Chapter Text
⚡︎ Queen of Wands ⚡︎
The silence between them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable.
V didn’t speak right away, just stared. Eyes scanning every inch of the woman in front of her, trying to stitch together fact from fiction, memory from myth. Her face… yeah, it matched. But older. The chrome was different too, more refined, less vintage. Still, the resemblance was uncanny.
Alt Cunningham.
Johnny’s Alt.
Except not. Maybe.
V’s mind spun with half-baked theories. Maybe she had survived Arasaka somehow. Maybe she never died, and Johnny’s memories just didn’t have the whole picture. Or maybe this was a clone. A construct. A cheap replica built off the real deal’s neural map and thrown into a meat body. The last one made the most sense. And the least comfortable.
Finally, V found her voice, a half-smirk curling at her lips. “Well, you’re not exactly what I was expecting either.”
Alt just tilted her head slightly. Her expression unreadable. Cold, but not unkind. Calculating. She didn’t flinch under scrutiny. Didn’t speak.
V shifted in her chair. Still locked down. Still jammed.
And still weirded the fuck out.
She tried not to let it show, but failed. Johnny’s memories had always been intrusive, but right now? They were pouring through like a busted dam. Memories of Alt smiling. Alt bleeding. Alt screaming his name. It was like she could hear him in the back of her mind.
Too bad he wasn’t. He would’ve known what to say. Maybe.
V cleared her throat. “So… what are you, exactly?”
Alt sighed. It wasn’t annoyed, more like she’d been expecting the question for years.
“I’m a clone,” she said, voice no longer distorted by the deep-synth filter. “Engineered off Alt Cunningham’s original genetic material. Personality matrix based on a pre-Arasaka engram backup.” She folded her arms. “But I go by Angel, now.”
V blinked, nodding slowly. “Right. Angel.”
Her mouth stayed open like she had more to say, but her brain hadn’t caught up yet. She closed it. Then opened it again.
“Sorry. Just… trying to take all this in.” V laughed under her breath, awkwardly. “Kinda wild meeting someone who’s technically been dead for over half a century.”
Angel’s gaze narrowed slightly, not unkindly. “It’s understandable. I’ve had time to adjust. You haven’t.”
That almost sounded like empathy.
V frowned, then asked the next logical thing. “Do you… Remember everything? I mean, from before. From being her?”
A pause.
Then, “Yes.”
The air went still. A soft hum buzzed through the warehouse walls, a reminder that Night City’s chaos was always just beyond reach.
“So…” V leaned forward. “You’re her. Alt Cunningham. Just… rebuilt.”
Angel tilted her chin upward, thinking for a moment. “You could say that. But the difference between code and soul is more than semantics.”
“Shit,” V muttered, “Johnny would lose his goddamn mind if he could see this.”
Another silence.
Angel looked at her for a long moment, through her almost. Then she stepped forward, just a pace, and said, “I’m going to restore control to your cyberware. If you try anything, I will respond accordingly.”
V responded. “I’ll be good.”
A moment passed. The V felt it: a shudder through her spine as systems reconnected. Her limbs loosened, the tight lock in her joints gone in an instant, breath came easier. Her chrome was hers again.
She stood slowly, eyes locked on Angel the entire time.
“Appreciate it,” V muttered. “Not a fan of the whole… paralysis interview method.”
Angel gave her a flat look. “It’s safer this way. You’re unpredictable, volatile. You stormed Arasaka Tower. Alone.”
“Didn’t plan to,” V said with a shrug. “Just sort of happened.”
Angel didn’t laugh, but her lips quivered like she almost wanted to.
V began to pace, tight circles under the overhead spotlight, boots thudding against the warehouse floor. Her thoughts raced faster than any Ripper’s hardware could calibrate.
“How long?” she asked finally, not looking at Angel. “How long you been back?”
Angel didn’t move. “Over fifty years,” she said. “Though most of it… I spent on ice. Watching the Net. Listening.”
“I’ve seen you before, y’know,” V muttered. “Or another you. Mikoshi. The Blackwall. Johnny’s Alt. She helped me, helped him… whatever. You aware of her?”
“I am,” Angel replied. “She’s an echo of the same woman. One that’s grown into something else entirely.”
“Yeah, well,” V said, half-smirking, “seems like a pattern with you.”
She crossed her arms, staring Angel down. “You’ve been tracking me. That much’s obvious. Question is… how long?”
Angel answered without hesitation. “Since the heist on Konpeki Plaza.”
That pulled the wind from V’s lungs for a second. “Konpeki…” she repeated. “You’ve been watching me since Yorinobu’s place?”
Angel nodded.
V narrowed her eyes. “Then why the twenty questions earlier? You already know everything about me.”
“Observation is one thing,” Angle said evenly. “Validation is another. I needed to make sure you were still the right merc for the job.”
“Cute,” V said, voice clipped. She ran a hand through her hair, jaw tight. “Well, now you’ve had your validation. So let’s talk about this job. Rogue said it had to do with a cure. And I’m guessing this ain’t some Corp-grade dream.”
Angel gave a small nod and gestured to the chair. “Take a seat. Promise I won’t jam your chrome this time.”
V stared at the chair for a click too long, then dropped into it with a quiet grunt. She didn’t trust this setup, not really, but what other choice did she have?
Angel stepped forward and slid a shard across the table. V’s eyes narrowed as she picked it up, turned it over in her fingers.
It looked just like the Relic.
The one still rotting in her skull.
Angel leaned on the table. “It’s a modified Relic. Clean slate, custom-tuned. It’s designed to take the place of the one in your head. Safely. Reverse the degradation. Repair what’s breaking you down.”
V’s fingers tightened around the shard. “You’re saying this thing… It’s my cure.”
“With one condition,” Angel said. “It needs an engram. The engram. Johnny Silverhand.”
V’s stomach twisted.
Of course.
“I’m supposed to just… plug him back in?” she asked, tone sharp. “After everything? After I finally got him out?”
Angel didn’t move. “He’s the only one whose data has proven stable inside the Relic for extended periods. His construct is already partially integrated. He’s the key to the system working. Without him, the transfer won’t hold.”
V leaned back, eyes dark. “You do realize every Ripperdoc I’ve talked to told me if this Relic gets yanked, I’m toast.”
“You are,” Angel said. “If you hesitate. If you do it wrong. But I won’t. I’ve done this before– well, not exactly this, but close. And I’ve set everything up. The moment his engram is uploaded onto the new Relic. I can execute the switch. Clean. Painless. And permanent.”
“Painless,” V muttered. “Sure.”
Angel crossed her arms. “You want a cure, this is it. There’s no other option coming. No miracle. Just tech and timing.”
V looked down at the shard again. Her reflection stared back– tired, strained, cracked at the edges.
She exhaled slowly. “You said I need Johnny’s engram. Problem is… not sure that’s possible.”
Angel tilted her head. “Explain.”
“I heard a rumor. From someone in Militech,” V said, voice low. “They think Johnny’s still out there. Past the Blackwall. Which makes sense, since that’s where I left him. But even if it’s true, crossing the Blackwall? Not exactly a walk through Kabuki.”
Angel didn’t blink. “I know.”
“You said the job was today,” V continued. “So, what, you’ve got a Blackwall bridge just sittin’ here waiting for me to stroll over and ask nice?”
Angel gave a faint smile. “Not exactly. I’ve arranged a short opening– temporary access. Enough time to reach the AI laid where his signal’s been detected. But it won’t last long.”
V shook her head. “Even if I get through… not like he’s just gonna come back .”
“That’s your job,” Angel said simply. “Convince him.”
V stared at her. Then down at the shard.
Convince Johnny Silverhand to crawl back into her skull. Again.
She laughed. Bitter. “Yeah. Sure. Easy.”
Angel stood still, watching V with that same unreadable expression.
“You’ll have to,” she said finally, her voice smooth but firm. “If you want the cure.”
V scoffed under her breath. “No pressure, huh?”
But Angel wasn’t finished. She leaned forward, resting her palms on the metal table between them.
“There’s another step,” she said. “The modified Relic won’t just stop the degeneration. It needs a trigger, something to tell it to shut down the kill switch and start the repair sequence. That trigger… is Johnny’s body.”
V blinked. “His body ?”
Angel nodded. “The new Relic has to be transferred into his physical body. Once it’s installed and connected to his engram, the original hardware in your head will receive the signal to reverse the neural damage. That’s your cure.”
V stared. Then, slowly, the pieces clicked together in her mind like cold steel.
“You needed me ,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Because I’ve got a meeting with Lucas Hartford tomorrow. Miltech Offices. That means I can get you access to the cryochamber.”
Angel nodded again. “Where they’re keeping Johnny.” Angel exhaled through her nose. “I originally retrieved it from Arasaka Tower ruins,” she revealed, “Got is stabilized. I was trying to bring him back long before Mikoshi. But then, Militech found me. Took the body. Locked it down. Been holding it ever since.”
V shook her head. “Jesus. This is a lot to take in. I mean, you’re–” she gestured vaguely, “Alt fucking Cunningham. And here I am, getting mission briefed like this is one Saturday night side gig.”
Angel smirked. Just barely. “You’ll manage.”
“Yeah, sure,” V muttered, folding her arms.
Angel straightened up and repeated the plan methodically.
“Step one: retrieve Johnny’s engram from beyond the Blackwall. I’ll upload it to the modified Relic. Step two: I swap out the Relic in your head while you're in cyberspace. Step three: You retrieved his body from Militech. Step four: I install the new Relic into the body and begin the full sync. That triggers the reversal sequence on your end, halts the neural degradation, and repairs the damage.”
V nodded slowly, lips pursed, eyes fixed on the shard in her hands. “It’s the closest thing to a cure I’ve had in months,” she murmured. Then looked up at Angel, narrowing her eyes. “But what do you get out of this?”
Angel met her gaze evenly. “That’s between me and Johnny.”
V arched a brow. “Thought so.”
She leaned back in the chair, letting her shoulders relax just slightly. “Still,” she said, “guess I should thank Rogue. Wouldn’t be here without her.”
Then it hit her.
“Wait. Rogue doesn’t know , does she? That you’re still alive. That you’re not just code behind a wall.”
Angel’s expression softened just a touch. “No. I’ve been careful. Very careful. But it’s been fifty years. I think it’s time.”
V gave a dry chuckle. “Oh man. I want front-row seats to that reunion.”
Angel allowed herself a half-smile. “I’ll let you know when it happens.”
V looked back down at her shard, her cure, and rolled it between her fingers.
This was it.
A plan. A shot. A path to survival.
Now all she had to do was cross the Blackwall, steal a body, and maybe… bring back a legend.
No big deal. Just another Tuesday.
V exhaled slowly and gave Angel a single, sharp nod. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
Angel returned the nod and motioned for her to follow. “This way. We start with retrieving the engram.”
She led V down a narrow staircase at the back of the warehouse. The temperature dropped with every step, and V could already hear the low hum of servers long before they hit the basement floor.
It was a netrunner’s haven.
Screens flickered in shades of violet and green, processors buzzed in tightly controlled harmony, and dozens of neural ports snaked through the room like cybernetic veins. An ice bath sat in the center, faint vapor curling from its surface. But it wasn’t all chrome and wires; there were touches of life here, too. String lights hung haphazardly across the ceiling. Old Polaroids lined one wall. There was even a cracked coffee mug resting on top of a holo-tablet, and a book face down beside it.
“Welcome to my little slice of the Net,” Angel said, tone casually proud. “I’ve called this one home for almost five years now. Got others across the NUSA, but this one… this one’s personal.”
V walked in a slow circle around the space, taking it all in. “You’ve got style. But more ground than I expected.”
Angel smirked faintly. “Even clones of legendary netrunners like to decorate.”
She turned back to V. “Strip down.”
V raised an eyebrow, then began to shed her jacket, shirt, and pants, leaving the slick netrunning suit underneath intact. Angel looked her over once and nodded in approval. “You came prepared.”
V slipped into the ice bath. The chill his her like a shockwave, but she kept her breathing even. Angel moved around her, plugging in cables, syncing neural reads, and calibrating the dive.
“I’ll guide you as far as I can,” Angel said. “After that… you’re on your own.”
V nodded once. Then everything went white.
The world was gone.
No more wires. No more chill. No more weight.
V existed now as raw data, a glowing presence in a space with no up, no down. Angel flickered into view beside her– tall, radiant, looking eerily like the AI Alt. The overlap was uncanny, and V almost called her by the wrong name when she saw her.
“You’ll know when you’re close,” Angel said. “There’s a tear in the wall, not big enough for rogue AIs to break through, but wide enough for you.”
The environment shifted around them, pixelating and distorting, until the Blackwall loomed ahead. Vast, unrelenting, and impossible high. An abyss of data compressed into a shimmering surface of red static.
“This is where I leave you,” Angel said. “Once you’re inside, you’ll know where to find him. Instinct. Memory. Ghost code. Just… trust yourself.”
V nodded again. “See you on the other side.”
Angel gave her a look– half concern, half calculation– then vanished, her code unraveling into violet particles.
V turned toward the Blackwall.
She stepped through.
At first, there was nothing. Not even the familiar static of the Net– just silence and pitch.
Then, a glimmer.
Up ahead, a ripple of blue light hovered like a tear in digital fabric. V moved toward it, drawn to the pulse, the flicker of memory beyond.
She passed through the tear.
Suddenly, the world shaped itself.
Blue light danced across the walls of her old H10 apartment, or rather, a ghost of it. Everything shimmered in translucent lines of code, as if the place had been remembered rather than built. The couch. The vending machine. The faded posters and the cluttered bathroom.
It wasn’t real.
But it was familiar .
V’s breath caught in her throat as she saw him.
Sitting on the couch, red and flickering like a glitching specter was Johnny Silverhand. Strumming that damn guitar like time hadn’t passed at all. His eyes were distant, locked in memory, but there was a rhythm in his fingers, old habits hard to kill.
Johnny didn’t see her at first.
He sat haunched forward on the edge of the holographic couch, red and flickering at the edges, his fingers dancing lazily over the strings of a virtual guitar. V took a tentative step forward.
“Johnny.”
He didn’t react.
She took another step, voice a little louder this time. “Johnny!”
He blinked and looked up, eyes narrowing with a confusion that quickly twisted into suspicion. “V?”
In a glitch of static, he reappeared across the room, arms crossed, standing by the window.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, glitching slightly again. “How… are you even here ?”
V raised a brow, letting her voice drip with faux innocence. “What, can’t check in on an old friend?”
Johnny stared a moment– then, finally, a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Shit. You’re something else, V. Damn good to see you, though. Weird as all this is.”
She smirked. “Let me guess, Alt not giving you enough attention?”
He shrugged, his form phasing slightly as he moved. “She’s been… good to me. Said I could stay like this a little longer before I integrated fully. Gave me time.”
“How long’s it been since Mikoshi?” he asked, brow furrowing.
“Three months,” V replied softly.
The smirk vanished.
His face darkened, as if the time had just been pulled from her skull and slammed into his.
“Three months,” he echoed. “So you’ve only got three more.”
V didn’t say anything.
Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t come here to visit. You came for something.”
She nodded. “I need your help, Johnny. Might be my last chance. There’s a plan, one that could be a cure. But I need you to upload to me again.”
His face twisted into disbelief. “ No .”
He glitched violently, appearing near the front door, pacing now, hands clenched into fists. “Hell no, V. Why would you think I’d agree to that? After everything?”
“It’s not what you think,” she said, taking a step forward.
“It’s exactly what I think,” he snapped. “Same damn cycle. You shove me back in your head, we fight, you die. I get stuck with guilt again. No thanks. I chose this.”
V’s voice stayed calm, firm. “It’s not just any plan. It’s Alt ’s plan.”
That stopped him. He blinked. “Come again?”
V hesitated, then said it clearly. “Alt’s alive. In Night City. Not the AI. A clone, with all her memories.”
Johnny’s face contorted, like she’d dropped a bomb in his chest. “You’re messing with me.”
“I’m not.” V threw her arms up. “Apparently, ‘love’ makes you do crazy things. She wants to bring you back. Physically. Your body. You get a second chance, and I get my cure.”
“Son of a…” Johnny let out a long, drawn-out string of expletives before glitching again– this time appearing on the bed, elbows on his knees, head down.
V joined him, glitching into place beside him. She placed a steady hand on his shoulder.
“I know it’s a lot. But this time… It’s different. This is real . You’ll get your body back. I get to live. We both walk away.”
Johnny glanced over at her, eyes narrowing, searching her face for doubt.
“You really believe this’ll work?” he asked.
“I do.”
He stared a moment longer, then sighed, the fight out of his posture. “You better be right, V.”
She grinned. “You won’t regret it.”
He extended his hand, and she took it.
“See you on the other side,” Johnny said, and with that, he vanished.
V’s body convulsed once, then her eyes snapped open as she gasped for breath. She sat up, water sloshing around her in the ice bath.
Angel was already at her side, steadying her. “Easy, you’re back. Everything went according to plan. New Relic’s taken. Johnny’s engram is in.”
V blinked, heart still hermering in her chest. “It worked?”
“It worked,” Angel confirmed with a small, satisfied smile.
She handed V something, her old Relic. Small, black, and cold in her hand.
“Souvenir,” Angel said. “Though you might want it.”
V stared at it. It felt heavier than it looked. For a second, she debated crushing it in her palm, but a familiar voice cut through the silence.
“Eh, might wanna hold onto that. For the memoirs.”
V’s eyes shot up, and there he was.
Johnny Silverhand. He tipped his shades, a cocky grin stretching across his face.
“Well, that was one hell of a nap.”
⸸ Queen of Swords ⸸
V woke up screaming.
She thrashed against the mattress, the thin sheets tangling around her legs. A white-hot flash of pain shot through her body, and sweat clung to her skin. She didn’t even realize Johnny was there until he was suddenly at her side, his movements quick but careful.
He placed a hand gently on her back, his voice low and steady. “It’s just a nightmare, V. You’re okay.”
But she wasn’t okay.
Sobs wracked her chest, loud and ragged. She didn’t even know what she was crying for, the unbearable throbbing in her abdomen, or the nightmare she couldn’t remember. Maybe both.
Johnny glanced around the room, uncertain. “I’ll grab Judy,” he muttered, already half-rising.
But V reached out instinctively, grabbing his silver wrist.
She shook her head through the tears, refusing to let go. Without thinking, without caring how desperate she might’ve looked, she pulled him into a hug. She buried her face against him, crying harder.
Johnny stiffened at first, but after a heartbeat, he slowly placed his arms around her. Carefully, he cradled the back of her head, pulling her onto his shoulder like she was something precious he was afraid to break.
Through gasping breaths, she mumbled against him, “Don’t leave me. Please. I don’t want to be alone.”
Johnny’s hand slid protectively over her back. His voice was low, raw. “I’m never leaving you again, V. Not ever.”
His words were a comfort, but they also confused her because they made her think of what he’d said earlier. You died, Valerie . What the hell did he mean by that?
Her body kept trembling in his arms, the cramping growing sharper, spreading down her legs like fire. She whimpered against him, and he pulled away to check on her. His expression shifted instantly when he saw the blood seeping through the sheets.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
V saw the panic flash in his eyes. He brushes her hair back, speaking fast but trying to sound calm. “I’m gonna grab the others, alright? Just stay here. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded weakly, watching him sprint out of the room.
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
Still breathing heavily, she peeled the sheet away from her body to figure out what the hell was happening. She lifted her shirt, grimacing as she saw the layers of fresh bandages wrapped around her abdomen. They were stained a little, but enough to explain the blood soaking the mattress.
Her gaze drifted lower.
The blood was coming from between her legs.
V swallowed hard, stomach flipping. This wasn’t just blood. This wasn’t normal.
What the fuck happened to me?
She gritted her teeth and clutched the sheets tighter around herself, a new wave of terror blooming in her chest.
Angel was the first to burst into the room, rushing to V’s side. Judy and Johnny appeared right after her, Johnny pacing anxiously back and forth, while Judy went straight to the mattress.
V lay against the pillow, her body slick with sweat, every breath shallow and ragged. Judy knelt beside her, brushing the damp hair from V’s forehead with trembling fingers. She gently took V’s hand into her own, squeezing it tightly.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, V,” Judy whispered.
V blinked up at her, her mind foggy, half convinced this had to be some kind of twisted, lucid dream. In a slurred voice, she asked Judy, “What’s… going on?”
Behind her, she caught pieces of a heated conversation, Johnny’s voice sharp with panic as he snapped at Angel, demanding to know if what was happening was normal.
Angel had lifted the sheets near V’s legs, her brows knitted together in a deep frown. “It’s not normal,” Angel said bluntly, “Too much blood.”
Johnny cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He and Angel started bickering, Angel reminding him harshly, “I’m not a ripperdoc, Johnny!”
V winced. She shifted, about to turn her head to watch them argue, but Judy gently cupped her face, turning her head back toward her.
“Don’t listen to them,” Judy murmured, “Look at me.”
She pressed a soft kiss against V’s burning forehead, anchoring her.
V whimpered, fresh tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. “I just… wanna know what’s happening,” she said weakly. “I hate this. Hate being this vulnerable. This weak.”
Angel came to her side then, offering a glass of water and pills. “Painkillers and a clotting agent,” she explained quickly. “It’ll help stop the bleeding.”
V didn’t argue. She swallowed them down with Judy’s help, grimacing at the bitter taste.
Angel leaned in closer, voice lowering. “The combination of the pills is gonna knock you out, V. Just… let it.”
Already, V’s mind was beginning to cloud again. Her eyelids grew heavy. She tightened her grip around Judy’s hand, her gaze hazy and unfocused.
The last thing she saw before everything went dark was Judy’s tearful smile and the warmth of her hand never letting go.
V woke up cradled in Judy’s arms on the mattress. For a brief, blissful moment, she forgot where she was, thought she was simply at home, waking up in bed beside her output. But then it hit her in a cold, hard wave: Arasaka. Mikoshi. Hotel Pitis Sophia.
She stiffened slightly, her breath hitching. Judy stirred beside her, opening her eyes with a sleepy smile.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Judy murmured.
V let out a small laugh, raspy and dry. “Don’t feel beautiful,” she said. “Covered in blood and sweat. Could really use a shower.”
Judy chuckled slightly, brushing a messy strand of magenta hair back from V’s forehead. “Couldn’t be closer to the truth,” she said, teasing lightly.
V smiled at her, a little comforted, before glancing around the room. It struck her how quiet it was, no Rogue, no Johnny, no Angel. Just the two of them.
“Where is everybody?” V asked, voice still hoarse.
Judy glanced toward the door, then back at V. “They’re getting ready,” she said gently. “Getting ready to move you.”
V frowned, “Move me.”
Judy nodded. “Rogue offered her bedroom at the Afterlife. Figured it’s better than this abandoned dump. Thought you could use a nicer place to recover. And you’re… well, you’re stable enough to now move.”
V scoffed a little, her humor dry. “Doesn’t seem like I’m in any shape to be moved, considering I almost bled out all over the mattress last night.”
Judy gave her a small, sad smile, her thumb brushing over the back of V’s hand. “Compared to what you were like before you woke up… the bleeding last night was better.”
V swallowed hard at that, suddenly more alert. “About that…” she started carefully. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on? What the hell is happening to me?”
Judy nodded, her expression more serious. “That’s kinda why I’m here.”
V gave her a confused look, dread curling in her stomach.
Judy squeezed her hand, voice trembling slightly. “V… you died. In this very room.”
V stared up at her, blinking slowly. “What?” she croaked out, shaking her head. “What do you mean I died here? I don’t even know how I got here.”
Judy looked at her with deep, overwhelming sadness. “Today’s May 5th, 2078.”
V paled, her mind whirling. Nearly a year. A year exactly since the heist at Konpeki Plaza with Jackie. But everything after Mikoshi? It was a blank slate. She didn’t remember any of it.
Judy continued carefully, her voice soft like she was worried V might break. “The reason you don’t remember any of it… is because, in a sense, it never happened to you.”
V frowned, lost already, but stayed silent as Judy went on.
“Your mind,” Judy said slowly, “is an engram. A copy of your memories, up until Mikoshi. A backup plan. In case things fell apart. Failed.”
V’s heart dropped. “And things did fail,” she whispered.
Judy nodded, pain flashing through her eyes. “Yeah. They failed. You… you died. So the others, they uploaded your engram.”
V stared ahead, her mind scrambling to make sense of it, like trying to catch smoke with her bare hands. I died , she thought numbly.
She began racking through all the possible reasons she could have died. Was it the relic? That ticking time bomb in her head? But then she remembered what Alt had told her at Mikoshi, six months ago. She had six months left. And yet, based on the date Judy had told her, May 5th, 2078… It had been nearly a year since Mikoshi.
Maybe they extended it somehow , she thought wildly. Maybe they cured it, and I died from something completely unrelated .
The thoughts swirled dizzyingly until she finally forced herself to turn and look Judy straight in the eyes.
“How did I die?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
Judy didn’t answer at first. She only glanced down, pointedly, at V’s stomach, at the bandages wrapped tightly around her abdomen.
V followed her gaze, understanding crashing into her.
She sucked in a breath, feeling sick.
“And the relic?” she croaked, afraid to know the answer.
Judy finally looked back at her and said softly, “Not a problem anymore. You found a cure, V. You’re cured.”
Despite the heavy news weighing on her, V felt a small flicker of relief. At least the Relic wasn’t a problem anymore. When she had entered the well in Mikoshi, that had been her biggest fear. That she would die in six months, maybe less. But somehow, that wasn’t the ending she got.
She shifted slightly against the pillow, wincing at the ache in her abdomen. “Does Johnny being back,” she asked carefully, “have something to do with the cure?”
Judy nodded slightly. “Partly. I wasn’t there for all of it… But yeah. You did bring Johnny back. If you want the full story, you’ll have to ask him. I’m kinda limited on the details.”
V nodded slowly, trying to process it all. “It’s been a year,” she said aloud, voice still hoarse. “What happened in that year? What did I miss? Is Night City even the same in 2078?”
Judy gave her a small, warm smile. “I’ll start at the beginning,” she said.
“When the original you woke from Mikoshi, you… You became a legend. A living one. You had stormed Arasaka Tower alone, and you made it out. You left Arasaka a shell of what it used to be in Night City. After that, Militech stepped in, taking over more and more.”
At the mention of Militech, V felt her stomach twist. Lucas Hartford , she thought sharply. The CEO. Her father.
She wondered how she, well, the other V, had handled it. Had she come clean to anyone? Told them who she really was?
Judy didn’t seem to notice V’s distraction and kept going. “With your new status, your influence at the Afterlife grew. You took on bigger jobs. Built even more connections. All to find a cure. And one of those leads… it brought Johnny back.”
V blinked slowly, absorbing every word.
Judy smiled fondly, then laughed a little. “You were living it up, V. Parties, meetups, gigs… hell, you even headlined a huge Samurai reunion show at Corpo Plaza. You were all over the feeds for weeks .”
V chuckled weakly, shaking her head. “You’re kidding.”
Judy grinned wider. “Wish I was.”
But then, Judy’s face fell, and V braced herself. She knew that look.
“But… it got rough, V. Your final month. You lost people. Pulled away from everyone. Got isolated. Until Johnny found you here… bleeding out at Pittis Sophia.”
V rubbed her forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. It was so much to process, and yet it felt like she was only getting half the story.
“Feels like you’re leaving out a lot,” V said bluntly.
Judy exhaled slowly, her hand squeezing V’s. “Yeah, I am. Johnny… he didn’t want to tell you too much. Said he didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
Overwhelmed didn’t even begin to cover it.
V let out a big breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. She turned to Judy, the question weighing heavily on her tongue.
“What about us?” she asked quietly, “What happened to us? Over the past year? Are we… still together?”
Judy’s frown was enough of an answer before the words even left her mouth. V felt a pang of sadness swell in her chest.
Judy spoke softly, almost apologetically. “After Mikoshi… I left Night City. And you didn’t come with me.”
V swallowed thickly, studying Judy’s face, wondering if maybe there was still a chance. A small chance to rebuild what they’d had.
Before she could say anything, the door creaked open and Johnny stepped inside. His voice cut the tension between them,
“She ready to go?” Johnny asked, addressing Judy.
Judy nodded, glancing back at V. “I caught her up to speed.”
Johnny’s gaze met V’s briefly, a shadow passing over his face before he looked back at Judy. “Angel is waiting,” he muttered. Without waiting for a response, he shut the door behind him again.
V turned back to Judy with a dry laugh, “It’s weird,” she said, shaking her head. “Him being alive. Gonna take some getting used to.”
Judy gave her a soft, understanding smile. “There’s a lot you’ll have to adjust to,” she said gently.
Judy left the room breathly and returned pushing a wheelchair. V groaned at the sight of it.
“God, I hate wheelchairs,” V muttered. Memories flashed unbidden of Misty pushing her through her old apartment after she first found out she was terminal. She gritted her teeth against the wave of emotion.
Judy offered her a supportive smile as she helped V to her feet. V managed a few shaky steps forward before sitting heavily in the chair, a sharp curse slipping past her lips as she pressed a hand against her bandaged abdomen.
“You okay?” Judy asked, worry knitting in her brow.
“I’ll be fine,” V grunted.
Judy nodded and wheeled her carefully out of the room. The abandoned halls of Hotel Pitis Sophia stretched around them, eerie and crumbling. Soon enough, they were in the parking lot.
The cool night air hit V’s face as she took in the scene before her. Johnny stood nearby, deep in conversation with Angel. They stood beside their cars, voices low and serious.
V watched them, unable to hear what they were saying, but she caught pieces of the body language. Angel placed a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, murmuring something reassuring. Johnny just nodded solemnly, his face unreadable.
V stared at them, feeling a surreal twist inside her. Johnny Silverhand and Alt Cunningham .
Except it wasn’t Alt exactly. It was Angel. Still seeing them together, both alive, real, and physical, was strange. Most of her memories of Alt were through Johnny’s eyes, colored by his emotions. To see it from the outside now was jarring.
After a moment, Angel climbed into her car and drove off, leaving V, Johnny, and Judy alone in the lot under the flickering parking lights.
Johnny opened the Porsche’s front passenger door for Judy, who moved quickly to help V into the car. V grunted a little as she shifted her weight, still sore, still weak. Johnny watched them both warily before circling back to the driver’s seat.
Judy leaned over toward V, her voice soft. “Johnny’s gonna take you to the Afterlife.”
V blinked, confused. “You’re not coming?”
Judy shook her head, offering a small, sad smile. “I’m heading back to the Aldecaldos. They’re camped out in the Badlands again, just outside the city.”
V’s chest tightened. “Will I see you again?” she asked, the words almost catching in her throat.
Judy’s smile wavered but stayed. “Hopefully.”
She gave V’s hand one last squeeze before stepping back and closing the door gently. She made her way over to Johnny’s side. He paused, meeting her eyes, his voice low and rough. “Thanks. For everything.”
Judy’s face hardened slightly. “She needed someone,” she said. “Someone who gave a damn.”
Johnny let out a heavy sigh, no arguments left in him. He climbed into the car, started the engine, and pulled them out of the cracked and abandoned lot, heading into Pacifica.
V leaned her head against the cool window, watching the world pass by. The sun was beginning to rise, casting a gray-pink light over the crumbling ruins of Pacifica. Already, she noticed things felt worse. More graffiti, more fires burning in barrels, more trash piling up on the sidewalks.
As they crossed deeper into Night City, the difference grew sharper.
Militech soldiers patrolled the streets now, fully geared and armed. Their yellow insignia flashed on billboards, recruitment ads plastered across crumbling buildings. Propaganda flooded every screen, every feed.
V watched in silence, absorbing it all. Her city had changed.
At a red light, she turned and glanced at Johnny. He sat stiffly at the driver's seat, jaw set, shoulders tense, one hand gripping the steering wheel just a little too tightly as a Militech patrol rumbled past.
The silence between them stretched too long, so V broke it.
“Judy told me some stuff,” she said carefully. “Caught me up a little. But… I’m missing a few things.” She turned more fully toward him. “Like, for starters, how you are here. Alive. And, oh, how exactly did I die? Since nobody wants to tell me.”
Johnny’s jaw tensed even more, the muscles twitching. He said nothing, eyes locked straight ahead.
V pushed a little more, frustration bubbling up. “What aren’t you telling me, Johnny? I’m bleeding from places I really don’t want to be bleeding from, and it feels kinda important to know why!”
He pulled the car over sharply, breaking harder than necessary. He turned to her then, yanking off his aviators.
V blinked in surprise, the sight of him hit harder than expected. Huge dark bags hung under his eyes, his hair disheveled, his skin pale and drawn tight over tight cheekbones. He looked wreaked. Exhausted.
“Stop talking,” he rasped, voice rough and frayed. “Just stop. For one second.”
V’s mouth shut instantly, words dying in her throat.
Johnny rubbed his forehead, voice softer but no less broken. “Maybe… maybe you coulda considered that I need a little fuckin’ time. That maybe… maybe it’s just not so easy for me to just–” He gestured vaguely, the words trailing off.
He let out a ragged breath, put his aviators back on like armor, and pulled the Porsche back into motion, driving in silence.
V shrank back against her seat, her stomach twisting from more than just the pain.
Tense silence filled the car now, thick enough to choke on.
She turned her head back toward the window, watching the battered city roll by, aching, confused, and no closer to the truth.