2077.
May 6th
6:32 PM
Night City.
The Crosstown Line
N-Cart #32.
The day you met him
He was standing there.
A complete stranger to you
Those glorious Amber-Gold eyes gazed out towards the dirty window of the N-Cart while it rumbled through Haywood.
His left hand subconsciously fixed his leathery jet-black trenchcoat slightly, an expression of deep thought upon his chiseled face. His dark brown fluffy hair curled down slightly to his shoulders, a few strands slowly swaying with the rumble of the cab. His lips formed the slightest of thin frowns as his fingerless gloved right hand clung to one of the bars on the NCarts poles. His figure was a powerful one, a Six-foot-eight cocktail mix of wide shoulders and a broad chest, of muscular arms, and a well-built core, all tucked away underneath his long-sleeved shirt and black cargo pants. A strange handgun strapped to his belt, the grizzled look he had on his face told you that he might've been a Solo. Yet what allured your attention was the definitive lack of something.
Something about him looked too...clean.
Then it struck you
There was not a drop of chrome on him
No Physical implants, No Gorrila Arms or a Keroshi Optic, Nothing, not even a Neural Port.
Fully Organic
He wasn't zoned out watching something on Cyberspace, or using a BD like many of the other commuters. Simply staring out in thought, gazing upon the structures of Haywood rushing past. The thick yellowish mist that currently drowned Night City only accentuated the rays of sunshine that graced his face.
That, was what had originally caught your attention
Someone who truly stood out in Night City was rare. Nearly everyone tried, and equally so failed.
But him?
This stranger standing across from you
He really was, built different.