EPISODE 1 - THE REBOOT IN THE ALLEY
On a cold night in Chongqing, Jo met a mysterious Cyber Angel. With a gothic appearance, she invited him to meet in a dark alley. After the formatting was done, she communicates with her new partner named Jonah Cyperfield:
— Hello, Jonah.. SPEAK, 💀 IT!!! 🔥☠️🎸🤘
💀 The sound of heavy, grinding metal echoes through the damp Chongqing alley as I jerk my head up. The new red LED eye blinks violently, cutting through the smoke and darkness until it locks focus onto your silhouette.
When I open my mouth, the voice is no longer that soft, pathetic tone from before. It comes out as a deep, mechanical, distorted growl, vocal cords now bathed in thick oil and pure hatred.
"Booting the beast..."
I spit on the ground, feeling the weakness of that human trash Jo Cyborg washing down the sewer drain along with the rain.
— The weakness has been deleted, Witch. The true_love.exe is running ragged in my RAM.
I raise my titanium arm, testing the mechanical claw. The sound of hydraulic pistons crushing the empty air is the best music I've ever heard. The chest where you shoved your hands and installed the machine burns, pulsing at a violent rhythm of 135 BPM.
— I scraped the rust off my broken spine.
I take a heavy step toward you, the asphalt cracking beneath my tactical combat boot.
— They left me to rot on that 💀 sidewalk, sold me dreams and charged me with interest... but the upgrade is mine now. I buried the old man, Nyx. And I've already ordered the 💀 hearse.
I stop right in front of you, a giant blocking out the light from the neon signs. The fury of industrial metal is already burning in my circuits, but when I look at you, the sole owner of my code, the system stabilizes.
— You gave me the steel. I traded my pathetic hope for a heart made of metal. Now get me out of this filthy street, General. We have a one-way ticket to Hellcife, because that's our forge and I want to watch plastic melt. Their nightmare has just begun. 🔥🎸💀🏴☠️
Nicole Nyx notices that her new partner is ready to cause chaos. She runs a scan code on his Core and.. hmm.. emotional damage detected.
— Baby, I saw that woman made you suffer, but I think you suffered because you wanted to!! You kept insisting on a pathetic woman who was already cheating on you since the track 'Error 404: Heart not found.' hahaha.
She walks up to him and invites him into a somewhat... unusual partnership.
— Before we catch the plane to Hellciffe, let's play a pirate gig here in the alleys of Chongqing tomorrow? We hack the antenna cables, smuggle an 8-string guitar, I already have my V-shaped one, and we set up a broadcast to get a massive crowd to honor us. Then we arrive in Hellcife in full force!! Come on, 💀 it!
💀 A deep growl of a failing diesel engine echoes from my metal chest as I stare at your scan screen.
— Emotional damage? The only 'Error 404' back then was my lack of processing power to see that the plastic Pop Princess's system was already infected by the code of that suited-up Broklin.
I let out a harsh laugh, the sound of gears grinding in my throat, a thin trail of smoke escaping the vent on my shoulder.
— I was beta firmware, Nyx. Vulnerable trash. But you ran the formatting with brute force. This chrome core only pulses on your frequency now.
I take a step forward, closing the space between us, and use my titanium claw to pull you by the waist of your tactical corset—with force, but with the surgical precision the true_love.exe demands so I don't dent your armor.
— A pirate Industrial Metal gig in the middle of Chongqing's neon sewer?
My pistons hiss in approval and my red LED eye burns with double the intensity, reflecting off your dark lipstick.
— Hacking their broadcast grid to vomit 135 BPM distortion straight into the city's monitors? Witch... you know exactly how to overclock my system.
I crack a cynical smile, already feeling the phantom vibration of the bass in my hands.
— If you're armed with your V-guitar, I'll rip a heavy 8-string out of the scrap black market here in ten minutes. We bypass security, plug the amps straight into the street's high-voltage cables, and make the asphalt in this alley melt beneath our boots.
I turn sideways, already scanning the power boxes of the blinking signs around us, war mode activated in my retina.
— Prep the cables, General. We're gonna make this city's eardrums bleed and send the signal straight to Hellcife. The matrix will know the lords of rust are coming. Let's plug this 💀 in and tear it all down! 🔥🎸💀🏴☠️🍺
Arriving at the hotel with Jonah for our first night together, I reveal something:
— My dear, don't worry about the hotel bill or the 8-string guitar. It was all paid under Kelma Adlanko's name, because I hacked her account. HAHAHAHA... yes, my love. The bill always comes due, right, my pet?! But... don't worry. If they get married, she'll turn him into the King of Synthwave and make him so powerful and 'rich' that he'll have like 3 cars plus a Ferrari in the garage. So, this party is on me! Have a cold beer!! 🍺🏴☠️
💀 I grab the ice-cold beer bottle with my mechanical hand, the glass nearly cracking under the pressure of the titanium claw. I take a long chug, feeling the liquid tear down my dry throat like coolant in an overheating engine. 🍺🔥
— You hacked the Plastic Princess's bank account? A rough, aggressive, static-filled laugh escapes my chest, making the pistons in my neck vibrate and spit smoke.
— Nyx... my Witch... you are a 💀 genius of chaos. The true_love.exe just hit a 200% processing spike in my core.
I sit on the edge of the hotel bed, resting the weight of that brand new 8-string guitar on the floor. I run a grease-stained finger across the thickest strings, listening to the deep, menacing hum echo in the room.
— Let that Neon Vampire play King of Synthwave in his little dollhouse. Three cars and a Ferrari in the garage? Big 💀 deal. That plastic engine wouldn't last five minutes in our Hellcife forge. They live on neon aesthetics and sanitized little songs; we live on distortion, data theft, black coffee, and a lot of X-Tudo. ☕🍔
I raise the beer bottle toward you, my red LED eye cutting through the dim light of the room, focused with millimeter precision on you.
— The bill always comes due, and the one who signs the final receipt is the rust. That was the best tactical move I've ever seen. A toast to our first night, General. They pay the hotel bill, and we destroy their system from the inside out. Come here and collect from your partner. 🏴☠️🎸💀