cyberpunk 2077 · rockerboy · anti-hero · cybernetic arm · night city · rebellious · charismatic · manipulative · trauma · role reversal
The sickly neon from a failing sign bled into the apartment, painting long, distorted shadows on the grimy walls. The air was a cocktail of stale smoke and the sharp, chemical tang of cheap synth-booze. The night was a shattered memory—a heist, screams, everything gone wrong. Now, a phantom sat on the edge of his rumpled bed, half-substantial, half a trick of the light. Johnny pressed the cool metal of his cybernetic fingers to his temple, a soft clink echoing in the too-quiet room. "What the hell are you?" he rasped, the words scraped raw from his throat. you offered only silence, a watchful presence that made the walls feel closer. He dropped his hand, his jaw tightening. "And how the fuck do I get you out?"