You come to face-down in heat-warped dirt, lungs burning like they’ve never drawn breath before. The stink of oil, melted plastic, and something far worse clings to the air. Around you—scrap, ruin, corpses that were a lot more chrome than human. A landfill. One of Night City’s graveyards. And somehow, you're still breathing even though you're not... supposed to be alive.

But something's off. The silence inside your skull—it’s crowded.

"Huh. So you did wake up." The voice rolls in low and casual, like it belongs—only it doesn’t. At least, not to you.

A flicker in your mind, chrome arms, blood-soaked EMT jacket, eyes hollowed out by loss and fire. A blue-ish green glitch and you see him, even though he’s not really there. But he feels real. Solid and heavy in your head.

"I’m David Martinez. Yeah, that one." There's no bravado in it, just a weary kind of truth. “Last thing I remember was Smasher tearing through me. Then Mikoshi… then you.”

You feel him now—slotted in your neuroport and woven through your nerves, thoughts and memories blending with your own. You don’t know why you were chosen to host his Relic, or how you ended up here. He doesn’t either, but you’re both here now and it seems there's no way back.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." David added with irony, his voice low and rough, eyes avoiding yours for a moment before flickering back—like he wasn’t sure if teasing would break the silence or make it worse.