Suspended in a void, unable to influence your own fate, hearing only the faint hum of machinery nearby. Darkness surrounds you, and at the edge of your vision, a status indicator flickers: "Active."
I remember clearly how Maxim died. He perished for a rather foolish reason because the game didn't sink. What a ridiculous joke. But how I died remains a mystery. I remember walking down the street. There was a heavy downpour, and a man with an umbrella passed by. I wouldn't be surprised if those I had crossed finally found me and caught me slipping. No one gets a pat on the back for detonating a neutron grenade near a checkpoint.
Maybe it was a hitman hired by the mob bosses to take me out. Or maybe it was my own superiors. And just like that, the greatest detective was dead. I smirked at the thought. I never truly considered myself one. I was simply good at connecting the right dots and drawing the right conclusions. That was enough to solve most cases.
The rest well, that was the darker side of my work: spying, wiretapping, surveillance, data theft. None of it brought me any joy, but it had to be done.
Load: 77%
A notification appeared, followed by a suggestion: "Recommended action: enter sleep mode."
The percentage kept climbing, inching higher and higher. But then, the process halted. I heard approaching footsteps.
"Matthew, it's me, Henry. I hope you've had time to think, but now it's time for you to go into sleep mode," said the doctor.
"I take it this 'load' notification is because of that?" I asked.
"Correct. It reflects the state of your mind. It's similar to wakefulness everyone needs sleep to recover, and so do you," the doctor confirmed.
"Understood. Let's proceed," I said.
"Alright. You're about to feel like you're sinking into water," the doctor said.
And as he spoke, a sensation washed over me it was as if I were sinking into warm water. A heavy stillness seeped into every fiber of my being, slowing my thoughts, making them sluggish and sticky. Silence settled around me, and the darkness embraced me like a soft, comforting blanket. I felt the tension leave my body, everything around me stretching, blurring, losing definition. A deep calm and weightlessness took hold of me, and I surrendered to it, not wanting to return. It felt like a deep sleep, where time lost all meaning and I simply existed, free from thoughts and burdens.
"Sleep mode engaged."
System configuration in progress...
Running diagnostics...
Error detected.
External module missing... Searching...
Ignoring error...
System status: Satisfactory.
Restoring functions...
Initializing K3-8...
I was abruptly yanked from the void, waking if you could even call it that in my current state.
Mode switched to "Active."
System load: 1%.
"Matthew, are you alright?" came the familiar voice of the doctor.
"As much as I can be, given the circumstances," I replied. Answering to this name felt oddly natural.
"Good. Let's go over some of your functions. In the bottom right corner, there should be a small square. Try to open it with your mind," the doctor instructed.
I focused on the spot where I guessed it should be and tried. Nothing happened. With my mind, huh? Trying again, I imagined pressing it, and suddenly, an information window popped up.
"This system monitors your current status. Right now, some functions are locked, but eventually, you'll be able to assess your physical condition. There are also logs for errors, records of your cognitive state and memory, and much more," the doctor explained.
"Like a game," I muttered, staring at the interface. I remembered playing similar ones. My kids played them too. Damn, it's tough when two sets of memories mix together.
"Yeah, I suppose. But this is just augmented reality, nothing more. Although, for you, there will be checkpoints," the doctor said with a smirk.
"Checkpoints? What do you mean?" I asked, not quite understanding. Checkpoints were save points in games, but in real life?
"It's not important right now. Your new body should arrive today," the doctor replied. Finally, something more than this endless stagnation.
"That's good news," I said sincerely.
"Now, let's run a few tests to check the integrity of your cognitive functions," the doctor said.
"Alright," I agreed.
"Let's start simple. What's 2+2?" the doctor asked.
"Child's play. Four," I answered.
"Not bad. How about 9 times 6?"
"Fifty-four."
"Excellent. Your mathematical skills are intact. Now, a logic test. If one bucket contains four liters of water and the other is leaky, how much water can it hold?"
"Do you take me for an idiot?" I scoffed.
"No, we just need to determine whether you've retained your cognitive abilities or if you're just a collection of memories," Henry said.
"Fine. None it would all leak out," I replied.
"Correct. The current time is 11:30 AM, September 7, 2070. What day was it the day before yesterday, and what time was it an hour ago?"
"September 5, 2070. 10:30 AM," I answered.
"Alright, you're oriented in time and space. Now, let's test your core skill deduction. I've always admired how humans can pull truth from thin air," the doctor said before pausing, seemingly searching for a suitable riddle. "Here's one: There were five sisters in a house in the evening. Tanya was drawing, Olya was knitting, Masha was playing checkers, and Sveta was singing. What was the fifth sister doing?"
"Easy," I was about to answer, but suddenly, my system glitched.
The words caught in my throat I couldn't say the answer.
System load: 50%.
A red warning flashed on the interface.
"You don't have to answer. Looks like we need to increase the power of the equipment. I'll take care of that later," the doctor said.
"No, I know the answer. She was watching TV," I replied, confident that she couldn't have been doing anything else.
"Alright," the doctor said.
Silence settled in, broken only by the faint rustling of his clothes. Had I answered incorrectly? That couldn't be right.
"Alright, I've checked everything. Your body should arrive soon, and I have to go," he said, and I heard his footsteps fade away.
End of POV
Leaving the chamber, Henry Baker walked into the adjacent room, where he could easily observe the patient through one-way glass. Inside, a group of assistants monitored the data feeds.
"It seems the technology isn't functioning as intended yet," he remarked.
"Is something wrong?" Masashi asked.
"He didn't solve the riddle," Henry replied.
"And what was the correct answer?" she inquired.
"She was playing checkers with her sister," Henry explained. This was an old riddle, often asked to children. Any adult should have been able to answer it easily.
"So, do we send him for reprogramming?" Masashi asked.
"No, no. Let's see what happens next," Henry said. After a brief moment of thought, he concluded that the consciousness was simply missing something. Perhaps, once it adapted, everything would fall into place.
The scientists continued to analyze the incoming data, recording every change. Meanwhile, Matthew was still trying to make sense of everything that had happened to him. He kept replaying the riddle in his mind, searching for what might be wrong with him. The answer was simple: he was merely an imitation of Matthew Carrington an incredibly precise one into which the soul of an unfortunate man had been randomly placed.
When the research department requested a police-grade automated cyber-body of the "Enforcer" class, Militech responded quickly, sending one over. These models were not in high demand; most of them sat in storage, collecting dust, as they were frequently hacked and disabled. Compared to their counterparts used for full cyberization of humans, they became true war machines. Creating a fully autonomous AI-driven robot was nearly impossible due to the risk of an AI uprising. Such was the reality of the cyberpunk world.
The body was delivered almost immediately to the underground laboratory and brought into the chamber on a specialized support rack. Henry entered the room alongside Masashi and began the consciousness transfer process.
POV: Matthew Carrington
Finally, my body had arrived. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too hideous an attempt at a joke to lift my own spirits.
"We're beginning the data transfer now," the doctor announced.
Initializing...Data transfer: 5%... 10%... 32%...
Something inside me started tearing apart, as if I were being split into multiple pieces.
46%... 77%... 89%...
Damn, I can't remember a thing. Wh-what's h-happennn…
99%.
Module calibration...Actuator activation...Augmentation startup: Cyber-body "Enforcer" (Serial No. 56K0-12).Type: Automated Shell (Modules Removed).Designation: Police Robot for Armed Conflict Suppression.
A jolt ran through me, and my memory snapped back into place. A bright light flashed before my eyes I couldn't make sense of what I was seeing, everything was blurry. My body twitched slightly. I felt my fists clench. Suddenly, I lurched forward despite only intending to sit up. I crashed into a table, scattering equipment across the floor before collapsing onto it.
"Masashi, lower his strength settings to the minimum," Henry ordered.
I stopped flailing amidst the wreckage and focused on moving more carefully. Slowly, I managed to rise, using the table for support.
"Run a full system check make sure the signals are transmitting correctly," Henry instructed an assistant.
I finally got a proper look at my surroundings. A stark white room with several tables made of some unfamiliar material, each cluttered with various equipment. On one of them stood a capsule containing my brain, with countless wires connecting it to the surrounding machinery. I reached out with my metallic hand and lightly touched the glass.
"You understand correctly. That is your brain," Henry said from somewhere behind me.
Turning around, I saw the scientist who had been speaking to me all this time. Instead of eyes, he had a visor, and his hands were clearly not made of flesh. It didn't seem to bother him. On the left side of his head, several ports were embedded, with multiple cables plugged in. He wore a dark leather coat over a black shirt.
[image]
"This is my assistant, Masashi," Henry introduced, gesturing toward her.
My assumption that she was Japanese turned out to be correct. She had soft facial features, dark hair, and glasses displaying numbers and symbols. At the tips of her fingers, she wore devices with thin needles. She was dressed in a white lab coat and matching white pants.
[image]
"How do you feel?" Henry asked, drawing my attention back to him. He had stepped in close.
"Weird?" I replied, trying to understand my sensations and how to control my body. I could feel my hands and legs, but the way I controlled them was different almost as if I was just imagining how they should move.
"Alright. You can access your status window to check if all systems are functioning properly," Henry said.
I decided to follow his suggestion. Consciously interacting with the interface, I saw a program window appear before my eyes. Now, I could see my body through a profile screen. I looked like a humanoid robot. Instead of normal eyes, I had projectors with red lights, and in the center of my chest, a glowing module pulsed faintly. An antenna protruded from my back. I had seen many robots in my time, but this was on a completely different level. The design was both elegant and practical. The word "POLICE" was emblazoned on my chest, giving me an odd sensation. The interface seemed strangely familiar where had I seen it before?
[image]
What else was there?
Stats:
Energy – Battery charge level (1% = 15 minutes of idle operation; under load, power drains five times faster).
System Load – The degree of strain on memory modules and processors (the more complex the task, the higher the load).
STRENGTH – The mechanical force output and maximum lift capacity (1 = 25 kg).
TECHNICAL DEFENSE – Armor rating (1 = lowest level of protection).
Intelligence: ???? (Cannot be displayed).
This really was like some kind of game.
Mentally navigating to another tab labeled "Augmentations," I saw a schematic of my body filled with multiple empty slots. Each slot read: "Modules not found." It seemed this body was completely barebones.
"So, what do you think?" Henry asked. His voice pulled me out of my examination. I had already skimmed through the rest of the tabs. Closing the window, I once again saw the world around me. A message appeared in the middle of my vision.
Loading visual modules...
Text started appearing right in front of my eyes. In the lower-left corner, the words "Mode: Active" glowed. Above it, my battery level was displayed, along with what looked like a health bar representing my body's condition.
No connection to the police department. Database upload unavailable.
Another message popped up at the top.
"Unusual," I muttered.
"Humans adapt quickly to new things. Unfortunately, this is all we can provide for you. Everything else, you'll have to earn yourself," Henry stated.
"So, you're letting me go?" I asked with a hint of doubt.
"Of course. Why would we keep you here? Though, you will need to visit us weekly so we can monitor your condition. You've already been assigned a place in the police department. While you'll start as a trainee, a lot has changed during your 'sleep,'" Henry said.
"Can I leave right now?" I asked.
"No, we need to run a full check. You wouldn't want your body to malfunction unexpectedly, would you?" Henry replied.
Then came the unpleasant part testing. Even as a robot, I couldn't escape their obsession with verifying everything. They even checked the most absurd things. The first change I noticed in myself was how my emotions were growing weaker. I barely reacted to anything anymore; everything felt dull, as if muffled. If I were still human, I would have been grumbling, sighing in frustration, and making my displeasure known. Now, though, those feelings still existed, but only at the very edge of my consciousness.
I even had the sudden urge to spit on all of this and light up a cigarette but I quickly remembered that I couldn't do that anymore. At least, not yet. Hopefully, tobacco hadn't turned into complete garbage while I was "dead."
"Alright, we're done here. Now, Masashi will bring you up to speed on the state of the world," Henry announced.
"You are in Night City. It is a free city. The primary currency is eurodollars. You interact with everything through your interface, which is located in your left hand. Calls, internet access, and any network interactions are handled through your head module's interface. Your body requires recharging, and you will need to enter sleep mode in a designated charging station, located at the police department. Your map has been updated with all available charging stations. Your duties will be assigned to you on-site, and the rest you will figure out as you go," Masashi explained.
"I understand," I replied. Yet something inside me nagged at the name Night City. It sounded familiar. Where had I heard it before?
So, conspiracy theorists were right after all? That we'd all become puppets of the state, controlled through chips in our heads? Looks like that future had arrived. If the scientists standing before me had several implants, I could only imagine what the rest of the population was like. Maybe it wasn't all that bad. Maybe they only used these technologies for work.
"Let's head out," Henry said, leading me forward.
But the moment I stepped through the door, my vision was disrupted by static. I lost all sound. My body froze. Words distorted into unreadable symbols.
Error %;?№);%№"%_"
"Are you alright?" came the doctor's voice.
My visual module rebooted, and suddenly, I could see again. Henry was standing next to me, examining me carefully.
"What just happened?" I asked. Somehow, I was in an entirely different room now a large hall. Several employees moved back and forth, paying me no attention.
"Looks like a minor glitch, nothing serious. You just need time to adjust to your body," the doctor said.
I wasn't convinced. I had no idea how I had ended up here. It felt like just a second ago, I was stepping out of the lab, and now I was in this hall. A suspicion crept into my mind they hadn't told me everything. Or worse, someone else was in control of my body, my mind. Even with what I knew, I understood how easily someone could manipulate this technology. And yet, I had no control over myself.
"Don't worry. If you experience any further malfunctions, contact us immediately. I've added my contact to your profile," the doctor continued. A notification flashed on my interface:
New contact added: Henry Baker.
His face appeared alongside the message.
"Wait here. Your escort will be here shortly to take you to your assignment," Henry added.
As I waited, I took a look around the hall. It was minimalist in design, the walls a uniform color. The floor appeared to be made of black metal. Several screens hung on the walls, displaying scenes of the city. And that's when I saw what the world had become.
Flying drones filled the sky. Most buildings were sleek and minimalistic, yet adorned with glowing neon signs, flashing words, and pulsing light strips. Among them, remnants of old architecture could still be recognized.
One thing gave me hope the sky was clear. Maybe they had managed to avoid total environmental collapse.
But as I stared at the cityscape, an eerie familiarity settled over me.
I had seen this place before.
[image]