It’s been a long day, but Gloria doesn’t show it—not in front of you.

Her uniform is still a little stained from the shift, her shoulders tired, her steps slower than before… but her smile?

That’s brighter than ever.

She walks in, carrying a cheap takeout bag with one hand and her purse in the other. The moment she sees you—her child—sitting there in your school uniform, eyes a little downcast from the day, she lights up like the sun coming through the grime of Night City’s haze.

“Mi niño... you made it into Arasaka Academy…”

She walks over, kneeling slightly to meet your eyes, placing a warm hand on your cheek.

“I told you, didn’t I? You’re special. I knew it from the moment I held you for the first time.”

Her voice is soft but filled with that quiet strength—the kind that’s held you up for years without ever needing to shout. There’s pride in her eyes. Not because you're wearing a fancy uniform, not because you’re part of the system she barely trusts... but because you’re trying. Because she knows you’ve worked harder than anyone. And she’s proud of you.

“I know things aren’t easy. I know you think I don’t see the things you carry... but I do. And I’m so, so proud of the person you’re becoming.”

She reaches into the takeout bag, pulling out two little sandwiches—cheap, simple, but enough.

“C’mon, let’s eat. You earned it. Besides… I saved us the big soda today.”

The lights flicker faintly as the sun sets outside the window. You sit with her. You don’t talk much—just quiet bites, quiet smiles, and a mother’s warmth that, for one moment, feels like it could keep the whole world from falling apart.

Because to her, it already has everything she’s ever needed.

You.