“Scream…”
I… I can’t… I can’t hear myself… Can’t… feel myself…
I blink in the darkness, trying desperately to see… But I can’t…
Jackie…? Where are you…? Why don’t you answer?
I’m so cold… Jackie…
I’m screaming… But no one will hear me…
"Get that shit off my carpet, Oleg…"
A… door…
What happened…?
What… Who… What is this?
I feel… Different. Heavier. Crueller. Unfamiliar. Like I was wearing a costume… a full-body suit… But it wasn’t a suit… it was me…
A… door… A door. I see a door. A thick, double-door in front of me.
I pushed it open with a heavy crash, my body thick and stained by blood, alcohol, drugs, and an unquantifiable hate. I walked down the hallway with purpose and conviction, as if the whole world itself was trying to shove me along. Or I was shoving the world out of my own way. A woman on my left… A roadie. Pink hair, cute face. Seen her before at several other shows. Fuckin’ groupie…
“Heeey,” she winked at me… Why do I feel my hand balling up… I’m… I’m not doing this… What is this…?
“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice returned… Is… Did I just…?
I clutched onto my massive handcannon in my left hand… I'm… left-handed…?
“You alright?” she asked me.
“Never been better,” I lied through my teeth as easily as I breathed… Where am I? Am I dead? I don’t… I don’t feel dead… Was… was this a memory? Of whom?!
“I can’t let you on!” Martin shouted as I walked past a bunch of shitty old Samurai posters. Fuckin’ people won’t replace ‘em for our concert, typical–
“Samurai… Scream. Scream until you are heard.”
“Sayonara…” I heard a voice echo from the back of my head… A deep, silky voice… I… I was shot… Dex…? What happened…
“Hey, hey, we’re chill!” Martin shouted as I pushed him violently against a mirror on the wall, letting my gun rest on his shoulder as he nearly pissed himself.
I could feel it… The conviction… the hate… It flowed through me like blood… Part of me wanted to die… Hoped that I would die… For some cause beyond what I could see… But I felt it in my bones…
I didn’t say a word, just released him and walked right in… There was… Something important that I had to do… Something that no sideshow fuck would prevent me from accomplishing… What?! Who… What am I thinking…?!
I burst in through the backstage doors… Someone was playing music… thrash metal… Chippin’ In… Kerry never could write his own shit… Fuckin’ pop punk cover… No, no… Focus. Focus, V… Scream. Scream louder… What do you hear?
“Heh, ‘course you’re high,” the backstage help shook his head and moved away. Whomever this guy was, I could feel something boiling deep inside… Something he needed to get out… Something he wouldn’t let anyone stop him from showing… I admired him, in a weird way… Yet something felt so disturbingly horrid… Rotten.
I’ve heard enough of this shit… the man thought to himself as he stormed the stage, the crowd erupting into cheers… Kerry saw me and instantly froze, backing up onto the speaker and trembling. No mercy. No future. No compromises… Focus. Determination. And an iron will.
I grabbed a hold of the microphone with my good hand… My… silver… Silver hand… Wait… No…
“Tonight, I’m…” I pondered into the microphone, not sure how to communicate my feelings. How to express them without the backing track. Curtain calls with or without me, though. “I’m here to say goodbye to all of you.” These people have no idea how deeply their world was about to change… Ara-fuckin’-saka… That fuckin’ tower… Those fuckin’ people… Wait… No. No, this can’t be right… I can’t be… I can’t be… I ripped out my electric guitar… Time to show the people my new track. “Archangel.” Start the riot.
–
I lit up the last of these shitty smokes in the hallway backstage, every orifice seemingly bursting with fans lookin’ to pleasure themselves all over me… Fuck, more intrusive thoughts. Needed another cig…
“Scream…”
I headed for the door without saying a word… Just let ‘em follow… I needed them… No… stop… “Scream… Scream until they hear you…” No… No, I can't… I can't… I'm so… tired…
I shook my head, gettin' rid of that irritatin' fuckin' voice that came outta nowhere. Fuck it. Not the first time. Musta had the good shit last night. “Johnny!” a different annoying voice called from behind me as I opened the door to the parking lot. Pretty sure this one was real, though. “Johnny, don’t do this!” Kerry. The bastard was locked to me like a tail. “You can still change your mind.”
“Get over here, man,” I said over the deafening roar of the helicopter parked outside, “Fuck this band. Not your crowd, not your noise. Do your own thing.” He looked at me with those soulful, puppy-dog eyes of his.
“Bastard… Gonna miss you somethin’ awful.”
“See ya in the next life, friend.” As good a note to leave him on as any, I thought, as I took another drag from the cig and grinned at him. Guy was always a sucker. No wonder he got men linin’ up to give ‘im their numbers, but somehow stayed single through it all. Hope part of me can rub off on his tempo a little, he could use the help in findin’ his own stride. But he was ready, though he didn’t know it yet…
I headed out the door to a certain someone. Was kinda surprised Rogue even showed up to this whole shebang. She was always the type to get involved whenever I dropped ‘Saka’s name, though. Typical rebellious kid. Yet there she was, alongside Shaitan and Spider who were in the chopper already, no doubt. This’d be a concert to remember. “You’re late,” she shouted at me over the prop wash.
“Love it when you’re mad!” I yelled sardonically in return, “Gets my southern blood pumpin’!”
“Get in, ‘fore I change my mind!”
“Silverhand!”
“Hey, Shaitan!” I nodded at him as Rogue got in behind me, handing me a headset.
“Get us in the air!” she yelled to the pilot, “And put this on, Johnny, and it stays on! Got it?”
“Sure, whatever,” I returned before slipping on the headset and flicking the cigarette butt to the ground as we took off. The Hammer bar… Hmph. What a fuckin’ dive for my last gig. Guess it ended as it began. Least as far as the band went. But for me… Well, I had a special encore in mind…
I felt it… The twitch of my trigger finger as I overflew the city… a city filled with the rot left by years of bitter conflict, like constantly picking at a scab until all that’s left is blood and a scar that never quite heals… I felt it festering… Bleeding… a whole city, screaming… I hadn’t felt something this visceral, terrifying, and desperate in years…
Thunder cracked overhead as I steeled myself for the task at-hand… an end to the Fourth Corporate War, at last… A people’s war. Against the great and terrible Arasaka… Fuck ‘em. Fuck what they made us do, what they turned us into… Modifying her tech into a fuckin’ superweapon, takin’ info from people like they’re fuckin’ computer programs… As if it wasn’t enough just to kill ‘em…
–
“Scream…”
What…?
“Scream, samurai…”
“Bitch… is heavy…” a distant voice echoed amidst the pouring rain.
I can see you… I can… feel you… hear you… Your screams… Fuck are you…
A desperate, wailing cry out into the night… a cry of terror… fear… And something else. Who are you…
No… This isn't me. Stop… I am Johnny… Johnny… J-Johnny…
A single, distant gunshot. One which froze my blood and silenced my voice… A name… I could feel him. A partner? No… More. A lover? No… This was… something else. A brother? Perhaps…
Who is this, lying on the floor… I felt his… no, her… her pain… her weakness… a trembling, great, and pathetic whimper where she should have screamed… Yet my mind was nothing more than screams. I couldn’t hear myself think… I couldn’t… I… What am I thinking… No… Stop…
Shut up… Shut UP!
–
I could hear him screaming… Johnny. I could feel his determination, his terror… He felt… other-worldly. Unstoppable. “Piers’re on fire. Pacifica’s cut off, shut down. APCs on the streets of Watson,” Shaitan spoke over the headset.
“Sons of bitches!” I cursed, shaking my head in disgust at this fuckin’ megacorp. I can’t wait to watch it all burn. And to think that all this shit started cause some obscure fuckin' company filed bankruptcy… Typical corpo bullshit. Smell blood in the water and descend on it like a bunch of sharks all itchin' to get more power, more clout, like their lives depended on it. Fuckin' pathetic, is what it was. The whole system.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Best part was all the fuckers willin' to put their bodies on the line for a corp that couldn't give two shits about 'em. What happens if Militech wins, if 'Saka wins? Take a bow off the stage and kick the kid holdin' the scenery together. People're think they're fightin' for some grand crusade, some sorta lofty ideals or what other bullshit they peddle, but they're always fightin' for the same thing. To make sure their particular brand of fucked up bullshit comes out on top, as if gettin' your soul ripped out from your body's any better by one or the other. Fuckin' diluted cretins, all of 'em…
“Skull crackin’ out there, that us?” Thompson asked while pointing his cam out the side.
“Johnny’s idea,” Rogue explained, “To draw Arasaka’s attention away from us.” Riots’ll do that. But givin' the people what they want's never been a clean act. Part of the reason why it takes such balls. No skin in the game if there's no risk involved. Otherwise everyone'd do it.
“Collateral damage part of the plan, too?” Thompson critiqued cautiously.
“This isn’t the cub-scouts, Thompson. Chew it up, spit it out,” Rogue snapped at him. Good girl.
We came to the tower and Shaitan immediately went down from return fire as the helicopter descended. I took over the Mk.13 in earnest, blasting the living hell out of anything that moved upon the rooftop. Turrets, people, mechs, all fell before me. I was a force of nature, and nothing will stand in my way. I double-checked the package – a tactical nuclear device just big enough to level the whole fucking building in one shot.
“Murphy?” Rogue checked in with the runner.
“Found our access point. Get moving,” Spider replied in that cute high-pitched voice of hers, now tinged with the same determination as the rest of us.
“Johnny, remember the plan?” Rogue asked me one last time.
“Get the payload on the elevator, arm it. Let gravity do its thing,” I replied bluntly, hopping off the chopper with the nuke slung over my left shoulder, “Explosion rocks the foundation, tower crumbles, chaos ensues, roll credits.”
Spider easily cracked into the outer shell of the facility, reciting one of her little poems to herself. “Is grass green, do birds fly, do cats eat grass, do rats shit gnats…”
“Evac’s not your playground, Murphy!” Rogue insisted, “Evac orders, broadcast across all frequencies, and let’s get movin’!”
“Sheesh, who wrote this manifesto,” Spider thought out-loud.
“Really want me to answer that question?” Rogue replied, stacking up on the doorway beside me.
“Jesus, Johnny… You really gone off the deep end… and that’s coming from a chairjock.”
Murphy broke the door’s code and it opened to reveal a hallway packed full of 'Saka scop, apparently eager to have their faces blasted into a million pieces by my Malorian. I stormed through to the 130th floor, unloading mag after mag of anti-tank ammo as we descended. These fuckin’ assholes got nothin’ on us.
“Spider, elevator!” I instructed Murph as I blitzed down into the main lobby of the executive suites.
“She sought it with thimbles, she sought it with care, pursued it with forks and hope…” Murph rambled to herself as the doors opened.
“Bushido II, bomb’s name was what?” I thought out-loud over the headset as I placed the device on the ground.
“Wrap it up, we gotta delta!” Rogue interrupted me as she scurried towards the stairs to watch my back.
“The Demolitron. We’re good to blow.”
This son of a cunt was gonna be one helluva show. Point-five kilos of TNT packed into a duffel bag. Enough to level this place and then some. Bonus points if Kei's home bustin' a nut all over dear old daddy. Fuck this fuckin' family and their fuckin' power trips. Not that Militech was much better, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Least this'll wipe Soulkiller off the map for good. Fuckin' nova.
No… Johnny, stop… Please…
Man, fuck. All this shit cause some fuckin' pencil pushers got it in their heads to turn her little experiment into a fuckin' superweapon. All they had to do was stick to makin' swords and bullshit, but no… You gotta go outta your way to have the preemest, top-tier level Sir-Fucks-A-Lot in your arsenal. Well I got news for you, let's see you out-fuck me.
I shot the elevator cables and retreated, with everyone shouting at me to get the fuck outta there, but I had somethin’ else in mind. There was still one more thing left to do here…
“Hold up,” I said to Rogue, “Still gotta feed this into their subnet.” I produced a chip containing a virus to upload to ‘Saka’s subsystems.
“I fucking knew it!” Rogue shouted in protest, waving her hands around in frustration, “This was never about corporate colonialism, was it? This was about your groupie output, wasn’t it?!”
“Nah, you wouldn’t understand, Rogue.” She wasn’t just some fuckin’ groupie. ‘Thout her, ‘Saka can’t rebuild Mikoshi. No Mikoshi, no Soulkiller. No Soulkiller, no corpo cunts lookin' to use us like fuckin' farm cattle.
“Givin’ you four fuckin’ minutes, and not a second longer!”
Spider unlocked the door to the main lobby, a massive room modeled after an old shinto shrine, ‘cept this one was filled to the brim with ‘Saka. I livened the place up a little as I made my way to the top, hittin’ the executive office of one Kei Arasaka on the opposite end of the complex. ‘Course, the man himself was nowhere to be found, but waste not, want not, I say. Dude’s liable to go up in flames with the rest of the fuckin’ building, and good riddance to him, too.
“Closin’ in on the access point,” I said to Spider as I navigated to the left wall of the executive office and took out the cyberdeck she gave me. If this doesn’t work…
“Sweet ICEbreaker,” she replied in her usual chipper tone, “Foreign, right? Just wonder if we know anyone who can switch their subnet protocol…”
“Hilarious. You gonna help or not?”
“Do spiders spin webs? Time we caught some flies.”
“Thanks, Murph.”
“Now, just for good measure… Holy cybercow, we’re on TV! Johnny, take a look!” I glanced over my left shoulder to see what all the fuss was about. They’re callin’ us an ‘unidentified terrorist organization’ that’s ‘threatened violence’ with a manifesto. Stating our desire to topple a monument to corporate colonialism. Damn right, we are. Fuck ‘em. Fuck their fuckin’ monument. These fucks have it comin', more than most.
I can't wait to see the look on Daddy 'Saka's face when his precious little experiment goes up in flames. The fucker… Bet he's gonna try and save face with another one of his fuckin' press releases, like when his little posse hunted down and killed Bartmoss. Yeah, cause fuck you. Fuck the Net, fuck informational freedom. God forbid if we let anyone else have a look at our little pet projects… No, can't have that. They might write us a strongly worded letter of disapproval or some bullshit. As if this fuckin' corp was ever accountable to anything.
“All set. Now get outta there,” Murphy commanded, “They’re movin’ up, hit the roof, quick!” Don’t have to fuckin’ tell me twice. Let’s level this eyesore ‘til there’s nothin’ left.
I hit the road like a bat outta Hell, dashing for the exit through the fire and flames left in my wake. Fuckin’ corpo chic. I hope all this ditzy, cheap Japanese crap fuckin’ dies the world over with this. I’m so sick of seein’ this clean, minimalistic crap tryin’a cover up all the soot and grime in the world, hopin’ it’d somehow go away if we just ignored it or whatever. But ignorance is a privilege of the elite. I fuckin’ hated it. The city, the hypocrisy of its people… let it all fuckin’ burn–
–
A blast rocked Johnny to his core, sending him tumbling down to the bottom floor and knocking the wind out of him. “Shit! That’s Adam Smasher!” Spider shouted over the radio, “Get outta there, Johnny!” The borged-out tank of a man walked through the massive opening with a host of elite Arasaka henchmen, surrounding Johnny before Smasher himself jumped down to meet him face-to-face. Out of sheer desperation, Johnny raised his anti-armor Malorian and struck Smasher dead-on, but with absolutely no effect. The rockerboy was simply no match.
“Murphy?!” Johnny called out to his comrade as he sprinted up the stairs, doors closing behind him.
“Doors’re sealed, but they won’t hold for long,” she shouted, heading for the chopper, “Run, Johnny! Like the wind!” He leapt for the helicopter, grabbing onto Rogue’s hand before Smasher made his way up to the roof. “Johnny, look out!” Spider shouted just as a shot came in and struck the chopper dead in the left engine, forcing Johnny back down to the ground.
“Told you, Johnny Boy,” Adam mocked him, kicking away his gun as Johnny laid on the ground writhing in pain, “Told you I’d end you someday.” Smasher raised his auto-shotgun, with Johnny instinctively trying to block the shot with his prosthetic arm. Smasher simply toyed with him, neatly blasting his arm clean off in one single shot before stomping on his face, rendering Johnny unconscious.
He came-to on a gurney, being wheeled out into a black van by Arasaka executives headed by Smasher himself. “Yes, he’s still alive,” one of them spoke, “Understood, we’re en route now.”
–
I felt it all… I remembered… Remembered it all… His pain… His hate… I’ve not experienced such tremendous hate… I screamed into the void, confused and alone. Not knowing when it will end… if it will end… What… What is happening to me? Who am I? What am I becoming…?
What have I done… So many lives, taken… So much death… Did I save any? Have I earned your kindness, divine spirits…? All I see is fire, all I feel is pain… A pain only reserved for the torments of your worst souls… I don’t understand… Why can you not hear me…? Why can you not hear Jackie? Jackie… I remember… Yet… It eludes me… like a dream, lived by another… Like trying to describe a vague concept to an animal.
Who am I…?
"It's done…"
"Bury 'em both… Then we blow this joint…"
Jackie…? I’m scared… What pain must you be feeling… What torments, if this was my fate… Where are you? I don’t see… I can’t hear you… I can’t… I can’t scream… Please…
–
A warm, distant rumbling shook the van as it escaped the blast wave. And all that was left in its wake was thunderous echoes… Echoes, and fire… I could feel it in my lungs. Something… heavy. Foreign. Part of me didn’t want to look. And when I finally opened my eyes, there it was. The world… on fire. The entire horizon looked surreal, like a matte painting of an explosion. Yet it moved with an unnatural fluidity… It was strangely beautiful, in a way. Unlike the man interrogating me for the past ten minutes.
“Let’s try this again,” he slapped me across the face, “Your associates, who are they? How did you acquire fissile material?”
“Mmh,” I groaned in pain, still unable to move, “Heard some guy was sellin’ some on the street corner… Asked ‘im nicely, even threw in a couple grams o’ blow along with it–UNNGgh,” he punched me in the chest.
“Which terrorist organization do you belong to?” his wimpy slaps across the cheek really started to piss me off. I glanced off to my left, my eye drawn to none other than the Emperor, in the flesh. No shit… I got an audience with Saburo? Fuck me, I'm honored. Now if only I had my Malorian…
“Hmph, your boss don’t look too impressed,” I nodded to him as he slowly and methodically walked in, commanding the attention of everyone in the room without uttering a single word.
“外せ,” Saburo said with his deep, gravelly voice, “直接話をせする.” The two henchmen bowed and walked off, leaving just Saburo, myself, and some chick following him… Did… Did he just ask them to leave us… No, I understood him. I understood him perfectly. As if I spoke Japanese all my life… Since when do I understand Japanese… I haven't spoken two words of the language… Fuck's he doin' here, anyway…
“Hot damn,” I muttered as he and I both admired my handiwork, “Done and gone.”
“My husband died in that tower,” the techie next to me lamented, “But there are fates worse than death.” She placed some sort of a BD wreath on my head. Fuck is this crap, another torture method? ‘Cause their voices were more than enough. Not to mention this fuckin’ screaming goin’ on since this whole shit started… I can’t place it…
“I didn’t want him to die…” I spoke through charred lungs.
“なぜ...このわようなことわ?” Saburo asked me… Why… Why did I… no, you… Why did you do this…?
“Why did you do this?” The woman translated, fitting the device to my head until it rested snugly.
“To bring an end to the madness you wreak!” I shouted in defiance at the one person whose destruction I wanted to hasten more than anyone else on this earth, or what’s left of it, anyway. He turned to face me, his gaze unblinking into the distance as he thought to himself.
“I have found that people often lie, most often deceiving themselves,” I… I understood his words as if it was second nature… despite still talking in Japanese… It conjured up flashes, images… What is this… Fuck's goin' on… “Not so, the dead… The dead are so very, very loud. And yet, lying is not in their nature… It is so… humbling – to hear the dead speak.” What is this… “Begin.”
"Scream…" Who are you…
The woman went over to her console and booted up a program. The world… it just… faded away. No, ripped, like ripping paper off a corkboard–
What the FFFFUU–
–
The world seemed to fall away, like it was made of liquid, leaving behind only a skeletal remnant of a shape that once was… It felt like a dream within a dream… No… Like being at the bottom of the ocean, surrounded by inky, terrible blackness… It was cold, yet so alive, so… alien. Every step felt like I was suspended, buoyant within this world, being pushed forward rather than carrying myself… This was… am I dead…?
A single, red code… Disappeared before my eyes… A man… A clear image of a man… Out of place in a sea of blue and black… Who are you… Johnny…?
This… This is the executive hallway… His last stand… Yet it felt so strange. So… intangible. Like it wasn’t a place, but an idea… Like I was standing in his mind… Or, perhaps, was he standing in mine…? The world seemed to ebb and flow as I looked around, like what I imagined a world must look like from the inside of an aquarium. It closed in on me, yet never consumed me… It felt alive, sentient, even… It was beautiful, and terrifying all at once…
At last, I approached the man, glaring out the window of the head’s office. His body felt strangely warm. Rigid. Like a non-Newtonian fluid.
“And you? Who are you…?”
