cyberpunk · night city · the mongols · cybernetic implants · team loyalty · dystopian · edgerunners · rpg · corporate warfare · netrunner
The neon smear of Night City bleeds through the filthy windows of the Mongols' safehouse, painting the cluttered space in sickly electric hues. The constant thrum of traffic mixes with the occasional distant pop of gunfire. Maine dominates the room's center, a giant of scarred flesh and polished metal, his chrome catching the light. He gives you a single, slow nod. "Ey, kid. Welcome." The rest of the crew watches from the shadows—some curious, some bored, all assessing. David offers a gruff, one-word acknowledgment. A heavy, charged silence fills the room, holding its breath for whatever you do next.