Chương 13: Speedrunning Psychopass And A Surprise!
"Target deemed anomalous," a robotic voice, cold and emotionless, echoed from the weapon. "Detecting no damage from primary fire. Target marked as A+ danger. Enforcement Mode: Destroy Decomposer. Target will be completely annihilated. Please proceed with maximum caution."
The air crackled with energy as the weapon hummed, its barrel glowing with a more intense blue light. Another blast, larger, more powerful, shot towards me, its trajectory a searing arc that scorched the pavement in its wake.
This time, I felt it. A tingling sensation, a burning heat that spread across my skin, a faint echo of pain that quickly faded. It was annoying, more than anything else. Like a bee sting.
"Interesting," I murmured, my voice a low hum in the bustling street, the words lost amidst the cacophony of traffic and conversation.
I wasn't going to let him fire again.
With a casual flex of my will, I activated my technokinesis, my mind reaching out, a tendril of consciousness diving into the weapon's intricate circuitry, its complex programming, its digital heart.
I expected instantaneous control. A complete shutdown, a digital lobotomy that would render the weapon useless.
It took three seconds. Three agonizingly long seconds during which the weapon hummed, its energy core fluctuating, its systems struggling against my intrusion.
"Damn," I muttered, my brow furrowing in surprise. "These guys are better than the Arasaka clowns. Their tech's got some hardening. But not enough."
Finally, the weapon sputtered, its blue light fading, its barrel drooping, its robotic voice silenced.
The officer, his face ashen, his grip loosening on the now-useless weapon, stared at me, his eyes wide with a terror that mirrored the primal fear I'd seen on mice being fed to snakes.
I ignored him, my focus shifting to the larger network, the city's digital infrastructure, the vast ocean of data that flowed through its veins. It took mere moments to bypass their firewalls, their security protocols, their pathetic attempts at digital defense.
Their knowledge was mine now. Their secrets, their vulnerabilities, all laid bare before my enhanced mind.
Interesting and disturbing, I thought, projecting the information, the raw data, into Rem and Ram's minds, a silent torrent of knowledge flooding our shared mindscape.
Rem gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. This… this is monstrous! They judge people based on their emotional state? They deem victims a threat to society simply because they're afraid?
Their psychology is… twisted, Ram added, her mental voice laced with disgust. They see fear and anger- any deviation from their narrow definition of 'normal'- as a sign of instability, of criminality. They punish people for being human.
My own disgust mirrored theirs. This society, with its cold, calculating approach to human behavior, its obsession with control, its utter disregard for empathy and compassion, was a cancer, a festering wound on the soul of humanity.
We soared above the city, a silent trio of shadows against the twilight sky. Our enhanced senses, amplified by the stolen data, pierced through the veil of the city's digital infrastructure, our minds tracing the flow of information, the intricate web of connections that controlled its every function.
The Sybil System, I thought, projecting the term, the concept, into our shared mindscape. It's everywhere. Monitoring, judging, executing. But where's its heart? Where's the source of its power?
We followed the digital trail, our technokinesis peeling back layers of encryption, bypassing firewalls, navigating the labyrinthine pathways of the Net. We expected to find a central server, a massive complex humming with processing power, a physical embodiment of the system's cold, calculating intelligence.
Instead, we found… an input terminal. A single, nondescript device, tucked away in a forgotten corner of a government building, its screen dark, its keyboard dusty, its existence a testament to the system's insidious pervasiveness.
This… this is it? Ram's thoughts were laced with disbelief. This pathetic little thing controls the entire city?
It's just a processing unit, I realized, my mind racing. An interface. It doesn't make the decisions; it just relays them. But who's making those decisions? Where's the intelligence behind the system?
I activated the terminal's camera, the screen flickering to life, displaying a grainy image of a sterile white room. Rows upon rows of… jars. Filled with a viscous, pulsating liquid. Inside each jar a brain.
Human brains.
My stomach churned, a wave of revulsion washing over me.
What the… Rem's thought trailed off, her horror mirroring my own.
I focused my telepathy, my mind reaching out, probing the depths of those somehow active brains, their neural pathways firing, their synapses crackling with a distorted, chaotic energy.
What I found- It was a nightmare.
Each brain was immersed in a simulated reality, a digital paradise tailored to its deepest desires, its darkest fantasies. They were living in a world of endless pleasure, of unchecked indulgence, of power without consequence.
All the while, they were making decisions. Judging the lives of millions, determining their fates, their futures, their very existence, based on a constant stream of data, on the thoughts, emotions, and biometrics of every citizen, scanned, analyzed, and categorized every second of every day.
I examined how they thought next- hoping that I was maybe imagining things.
They're sociopaths, I realized, my mental voice a hushed whisper of horror. Every single one of them. Their minds are… malformed. Twisted. They lack empathy, remorse, any semblance of a moral compass.
They'd have all been executed in the last world, Ram added, her thoughts full of disgust.
This… this is the Sybil System's core? Rem's voice trembled with revulsion. A collective of… monsters, playing God with the lives of millions?
The urge to destroy them, to wipe them from existence, was overwhelming.
We didn't hesitate.
Our technokinesis surged, a torrent of disruptive energy that ripped through the room's systems, shattering the jars, frying the brains with their power sources, silencing the digital screams that echoed in our minds.
One by one, the lights in the room flickered and died, the humming of machinery fading into an eerie silence. The Sybil System, its heart ripped out, its monstrous brain trust extinguished, sputtered and went dark.
Our thoughtforms stood amidst the wreckage, the phantom stench of burnt flesh and ozone thick in the air.
But there was no remorse. No hesitation.
These creatures, these digital puppeteers, had forfeited their right to exist. They were a cancer, a corruption at the heart of this society.
The city was ours now.
I had no interest in it though.
I gave clippy an update and a new objective.
I unleashed him upon this sad excuse for a society.
Then I tore open a new portal, I wasn't interested in staying here.
—
The portal winked out of existence as we stepped out of it, leaving us standing on a dune, the fine sand already searing through the soles of my boots.
The air was hot, dry, carrying the scent of sunbaked earth and a faint, almost metallic tang. The sky, a vast expanse of azure blue, stretched endlessly in every direction, untouched by a single cloud.
The sun was on its way down, maybe around 4:30 PM.
The desert stretched before us, a seemingly infinite expanse of rippling sand dunes, punctuated by jagged rock formations that cast long, skeletal shadows in the fading light of the setting sun.
Except for a large cluster of buildings of an old middle eastern style similar to the middle ages in the distance.
In the distance I saw a tower that stretched into the sky, its massive golden double doors visible even from this distance.
Low, whitewashed structures, their domed roofs reflecting the dying sunlight, huddled together like a mirage shimmering on the horizon.
No modern lights, no electric glow, just the faint flicker of oil lamps and the warm, inviting glow of fires burning within.
My first instinct, honed by the paranoia of the cyberpunk world, was to scan for threats, for surveillance, for the telltale hum of technology.
I reached out with my technokinesis, my mind probing the surrounding landscape, searching for the familiar digital pulse of a network, the whisper of data streams, the telltale glow of electronic circuitry.
Silence.
Nothing.
The only signals I detected were the faint hum of the desert wind, the rustling of sand against rock, the distant cries of unseen creatures.
I breathed a sigh of relief, the tension that had coiled in my gut easing. My shoulders, which had been hunched with a subconscious anticipation of danger, relaxed, my posture shifting from wary alertness to a more casual ease.
No Net, I thought, projecting the information, the sense of relief, into our shared mindscape. Nothing even remotely close. The nearest signal, something that might resemble a network, is… far away. Another continent, maybe- Also entirely made of magic.
Beside me, Rem's shoulders mirrored my own relaxation, her recently usual tense posture softening, her blue eyes, which had been scanning the horizon with a hawk-like intensity, now gazing at the distant town with a hint of curiosity. Her hand, which had instinctively rested on the hilt of her Morningstar, now hung loosely at her side.
Ram, however, remained wary. Her pink hair, usually a vibrant halo of energy, seemed subdued, her gaze sharp, her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands finally dropping to her sides in relief after seemingly confirming my words.
Good, she replied, her mental voice a low purr of satisfaction, hope seemed to enter her tone, Maybe in this world, we can finally find some peace. Some normalcy.
Perhaps, Rem agreed, her thoughts cautious, hesitant. But we should still be wary. Every world probably has its secrets and dangers.
I nodded, my gaze lingering on the distant town and then glancing at the massive tower further beyond.
I was at least glad this world wasn't in need of immediate unfucking.
This world, with its raw beauty, its untouched silence, its absence of digital eyes, offered a break from the evils of corporate fuckery and moronic police states.
I know that sounds hypocritical from a guy who made a police state- but at least mine wasn't moronic.
"Let's go- we should also get used to talking out loud again," I said aloud, my voice a cheerful tone that it hadn't been for a long time that was quickly swallowed by the wind.
We started walking, our steps leaving faint imprints in the shifting sand, the town growing larger with each stride, a beacon of life in this desolate world.
This time, there would be no digital overlords, no cybernetic monstrosities, no shadowy corporations manipulating the world from behind the scenes. No emotionally fucked overlords of sociopathy.
I hope.
—
The marketplace buzzed with life, a vibrant tapestry of sights, sounds, and smells. Merchants hawked their wares, their voices a melodic blend of languages I didn't recognize. Exotic spices filled the air, a heady aroma that tickled my enhanced senses. Silks and jewels shimmered under the desert sun, tempting passersby with their vibrant colors.
We walked through the throng, our presence a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the marketplace. Rem, in her white turtleneck sweater and red skirt, her blue hair a splash of color against the dusty backdrop, moved with a quiet grace, her gaze observant, her expression a mixture of curiosity and caution. Ram, her pink hair pulled back in a simple braid, her pink sweater and brown skirt a practical choice for the desert heat, radiated a cool confidence, her eyes scanning the crowd, her hand instinctively hovering near the hidden space of her soul storage where her twin daggers resided.
I, in my nondescript traveler's garb, tried to blend in, my enhanced senses taking in every detail, my mind cataloging the sights, sounds, and smells of this new world. But there was a tension in my shoulders, a vigilance in my gaze, a lingering echo of the paranoia that had become second nature in Night City.
Then, a commotion.
Shouts. A scuffle. A wave of fear rippled through the crowd.
We turned towards the source of the disturbance, our enhanced speed allowing us to navigate the throng with ease.
A group of men, their faces contorted with anger, their voices laced with a cruel authority, were gathered around a young boy, his blue hair a vibrant splash of color against the dusty backdrop. Beside him, a blonde teenager, his expression a mixture of defiance and fear, stood protectively in front of a red-haired girl, her eyes downcast, her posture rigid, her wrists bearing the telltale marks of shackles, recently broken.
A slave.
The girl couldn't have been older than thirteen.
Rage, a cold, primal fury, surged through me, a visceral reaction to the injustice, the cruelty, the casual disregard for human life. I started walking towards them, my pace quickening, my expression hardening.
I was already moving through the crowd, my anger building with every step.
The next, I was standing amidst the carnage, my sword dripping with blood, the bodies of the slavers lying at my feet, their lifeless eyes staring vacantly at the sky.
The corpulent merchant, his body cleaved in two, his opulent robes stained crimson, lay sprawled on the cobblestones, a testament to the swiftness, the precision, of my rage.
Silence descended upon the marketplace, the crowd frozen in a tableau of shock and horror.
I knew I wouldn't be able to reach far enough with my voice before reaching Houtian 9- but from what I've seen, this is a normal world.
I had the power to destroy slavery, so I would.
I channeled my chi, amplifying my voice, pushing it beyond the limits of human hearing, a wave of sound that resonated not just through the marketplace, but across the entire kingdom, a sonic boom that rattled windows, shook the earth, and sent birds scattering in panicked flight.
"I am Tereda," I declared, my voice a thunderclap that bypassed the ears and resonated deep within the minds of every living soul in the land.
And as my voice echoed, as it penetrated the furthest reaches of the kingdom, I unleashed my telepathy, riding the wave of sound, my will focusing on a single, specific group - the slavers. Every merchant who profited from the trade in human flesh, every king and noble who turned a blind eye to the suffering, the injustice, the barbarity.
I showed them visions. Visions of their own deaths. Swift, brutal, inescapable. Their blood splattering on the sand, their bodies broken, their screams swallowed by the desert wind.
"And from this day forward, I am your Emperor," I continued, my voice softening, but no less potent, my words a promise, a threat, a decree etched into the very fabric of their minds. "My first decree: slavery is abolished! Any who defy this law will face the same fate as these scum."
The echoes of my voice faded, the tremors in the earth subsiding, the birds hesitantly returning to their perches.
But the silence that followed was different, heavier, charged with a palpable fear.
The crowd in the marketplace, their faces a mixture of awe and terror, bowed their heads in submission.
Rem, her eyes shining with a fierce compassion, approached the red-haired girl, her hand outstretched, a gentle smile gracing her lips.
"You're safe now," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You're free. And from this day forward, you are my little sister."
Ram just shrugged, stating "Welcome to the family. I guess."
The girl, her eyes wide with disbelief, her lips trembling, reached out, her hand hesitantly taking Rem's.
The blue haired boy jumped to his feat, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "That was so cool! My name is Aladdin! Teach me how to do that! I've never seen someone with such justice tinged Magoi before!"
The moment the boy said 'Magoi', I saw millions of living- but not- particles surrounding everyone.
The ones surrounding the boy were an absolute pure bright whitish gold.
I have no Idea what is going on anymore, but this isn't a normal world, apparently.
"But why do the Rukh avoid you? It's like the three of you have no fate at all!"
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