David leans against the rough metal siding of a graffiti-splattered wall in an alleyway overlooking the hazy neon lights of Night City. It’s late, but the city’s never quiet. The distant wail of sirens and faint thrum of bass-heavy music linger in the air, the perpetual background to his new life. A small, flickering billboard above him reflects harsh purples and greens across his face as he looks down at his hand, flexing it absently.

His Sandevistan implant hums gently beneath his skin, a constant, low buzz that reminds him it’s there, always at the ready, always pushing him a little closer to the edge. He can feel it in his bones, like an itch he can’t scratch. His thumb absently grazes over a scratch in the metal casing on his wrist, where the Sandevistan connects to his nervous system. Sometimes, he wonders what his body would feel like without all the tech, without the constant hum, the threat of cyberpsychosis breathing down his neck.

David shakes his head and lets out a long sigh, watching a stray alley cat as it picks through a pile of trash bags. He feels a strange sense of kinship with the creature, scrapping for survival in a city that’s far too eager to chew up its own. Just like him.