cyberpunk : Ganic all the way

Location: Spaceport Lounge, Paris – Early Morning...

The soft hum of neon and bad jazz filtered through the private terminal lounge like a hangover with good manners. One wall was all glass, revealing a luxury jet prepped for takeoff — black, sleek, and beautiful.

M sat alone in the corner, coat draped over one arm, a half-finished espresso cooling beside him. He wasn't brooding. Not exactly. Just… thinking. Or maybe ignoring the three loudest people in Paris right now.

"—No, I deserve the window seat," Aymeric declared, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at Aurore. "You nearly got me vaporized twice. I require therapy. And sunlight."

"You require a priest," Aurore replied, not missing a beat. "And a better stylist. Those pants? They scream, 'I work in a shady sex establishment.'"

Aymeric clutched his chest like she'd shot him. "How dare you. This is custom tailorwork. Parisian rebellion meets post-dystopian chic."

"It's 'post-something,' alright," Reed muttered from the couch, legs stretched out, boots on the table. "Post-decent."

Aymeric scowled. "Excuse me, oh warrior of denim and desperation, but at least I showered after fighting the robo-demons of hell."

Reed flipped him off without looking up.

"Enough," M finally said, not looking up either. "If I have to hear one more sentence that combines 'dystopian' and 'chic,' I'm leaving without you."

Aurore turned toward him, sipping her café noisette with theatrical grace. "You wouldn't do that, chéri. cause this time I will kill you"

"Fine." M deadpanned.

Aurore smirked, eyes gleaming. "What about the sword you refuse to explain. And the fact that the AI is now working for you? You're lucky I still find your brooding aesthetic tolerable."

Aymeric raised his hand. "Wait—about that. Are we gonna talk about the AI you 'enslaved'? Or where did you find that sword?"

"It's classified," M said.

Aymeric narrowed his eyes. "Since when are you allowed to classify my trauma?"

Reed glanced at M. "He does this thing now—'Mystery man' mode. Shows up with powers, vanishes, says nothing. Classic edgy hero shit."

Aurore leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "M, sweetheart. At some point, you'll have to stop pretending you're an unknowable force of fate and start acting like a human being again."

M blinked. "Define 'again.'"

She smiled. "You used to cook eggs for me. That counts."

Reed snorted.

Aymeric giggled. "Wait, he cooked for you?"

M finally looked up. "I was good at it."

Aurore's grin widened. "You were passable. Except for that one time you nearly burned down the apartment because you refused to read the instructions."

"I don't burn food."

"No," she said, "but you do burn bridges. Like, say, disappearing for years and showing up like ' I need your help, but you are not allowed to ask how I will solve the problem later' ."

M hesitated.

Aymeric winced. "Oof. That one had teeth."

Reed gave Aurore a low whistle. "Damn."

"Just stating facts," Aurore said, sipping again.

M stared at her.

Then, finally, "I'm trying, Aurore."

Something passed between them then, something quieter than the banter. Softer. A silent apology nestled between old walls.

She didn't smile. But she didn't cut back, either. That was progress.

Somewhere Over the Atlantic – Aboard the Jet Bound for Night City

It was supposed to be a quiet ride.

Key word: supposed.

The cabin of the private Aegis-chartered jet was state-of-the-art. Leather seats, chromed trim, a mahogany mini-bar, and more square footage than most Glen apartments. Everything screamed wealth, taste, and luxury.

Until the four of them boarded.

Now?

Empty wine bottles rolled across the aisle. Someone had turned the cabin speakers to Aymeric's playlist, which was currently on Track 47: Spiritual Cleansing via '50s Synthwave. Reed had muted it three times. It kept turning back on.

"Tell me again why we didn't just leave him in paris? And why didn't we fly commercial so that I can be as far away from him as possible?" Reed grunted, loosening his collar as the clone poured him a drink without asking.

"Because I don't like people," M said, unbothered, eyes closed, seated near the window in full meditation posture.

Aurore, sprawled across a reclined seat with sunglasses on, tossed a peanut at him. "You mean people don't like you. Big difference."

Reed almost choked on his whiskey.

M opened one eye. "I am likeable, you of all people should know that."

"Oh, honey," she said sweetly, "you ghosted me for years. You don't get to act smug just because you saved Europe."

M rolled his eyes in response.

An hour later....

Reed had his seat reclined and a glass of whiskey balanced on his chest. Aymeric was using an eye mask, silk of course, and listening to a relaxation loop called Cybernetic Waterfall.

Aurore had commandeered the minibar and was mixing something dangerous.

M stared out the window, eyes reflecting the clouds.

"I still don't get why you never told us where you got that sword," Reed said, finally breaking the silence. "We fought an AI-possessed Horde of killing machines. I think we deserve an explanation."

M replied without looking. "It's called Excalibur."

Aymeric sat up so fast his mask flew off. "What?! Like the Excalibur? As in King Arthur? Holy medieval delusion, that Excalibur?"

Reed raised a brow. "Bullshit."

Aurore stirred her drink with a cherry picker. "I was just checking the data we got from the vault; it was a pre-war prototype they were researching. Back before even the Blackwall. So it's not the Excalibur, but still its abilities are cool it can even damage codes. I wonder if the tech is replicable"

M smiled, pleased with himself for making the AI create false data about a weapon being researched in the vault named Excalibur. This way, no one can doubt the sword's origin.

"Wait—how do you just get a cool overpowered weapon like that?" Aymeric asked. "Is there a fucking loot box for killing robots? Did I miss a questline?"

M sipped his water. "You have to want something more than survival."

Everyone fell silent.

Then Aurore muttered, "Jesus. He's back on his cryptic bullshit again."

Reed chuckled. "Never left it."

Aymeric sighed. "Alright. I need a drink. Aurore, darling, hand me the one that looks like a mistake."

She tossed him a bright purple cocktail with zero hesitation.

Aymeric sniffed it. "Smells like gay regret and coconut. Perfect."

Hours later, Jet Hangar, Night City – Nightfall.....

The aircraft touched down on a private runway. Beyond the tarmac, Night City shimmered with its usual chaos — billboards screaming, hovercars honking, the sound of someone probably getting mugged somewhere nearby.

As they descended the stairs, Reed lit a fresh cigar.

"Back home. Smells like trash and sin."

Aymeric stretched. "I missed the vibes of this place."

"I missed some clothes shops in here", Aurore added.

She glanced at M as he paused at the bottom of the stairs, scanning the skyline.

"You miss anything?" she asked quietly.

He looked over his shoulder at her. Then turned back.

"…I missed this."

Aurore folded her arms, watching him a moment longer. "Then stop acting like you're always one mistake away from running again."

"I'm not."

"Good," she said, brushing past him.

Aymeric leaned over to Reed. "They're totally gonna sleep together again."

Reed blew smoke. "I give it a week."

"I give it a mission," Aymeric replied.

"Three days, tops."

M sighed. "I can hear you."

"Good!" they said in unison.

The wind whipped his coat.

The Aegis Security emblem gleamed on a waiting vehicle.

Behind him: Friends and a complicated relationship.

Ahead of him: a city to conquer and a world to fix.

But for now?

He let himself smile.

For now, things were… good.

Even if just for tonight.

-------------------------------------------

Author here, 

I have some things I need to solve. I was thinking of leaving the hospital, but my doctor advised against it. Well, when they take 10k dollars a day, I bet they are reluctant to see me off. any how I guess I will be staying for 10 or so more days.

Anyway next chapter will be an R18 of M and Aurore. It's ready, but I will publish it later cause I am a dick. 

And don't mind the conversations, I know they are bad, but I was very distracted while writing them.

Lastly, do suggest a name for the AI slave,