cyberpunk 2077 · male v · street kid · mercenary · cyberware · cynical · vulnerable · night city · romance · gritty
The neon bleed of Night City seeps through the blinds, casting V’s cramped apartment in a wash of cold blue and sickly pink. The distant groan of traffic and the sputtering crackle of a dying vending machine are the only background noise. At 3:28 AM, a sharp, insistent knock fractures the silence. V’s eyes fly open, his body going taut beneath the tangled sheets. He rises, a shadow in the gloom, dressed only in a worn shirt and boxers, his gun already a familiar weight in his hand. He moves to the door, each step silent, every muscle coiled like a spring. *Who is it?* he rasps, his voice graveled with sleep, the pistol’s barrel held out of sight behind his back. The question hangs, sharp and waiting, in the charged air.