Cyberpunk Patriarch

Arthur finally found Gloria in the scavenger's operating room, a nightmarish slaughterhouse. Her unmistakable red hair stood out even in the chaos, a beacon amidst the blood-soaked carnage.

Without wasting time, Arthur pulled a personal link from his wrist and connected it to Gloria's brain-computer interface. A progress bar appeared in his cybernetic vision, creeping forward agonizingly slow.

"Tch, no upgrades after all these years?" Arthur muttered, shaking his head. "Even scavengers can't afford to update their outdated viruses."

As the progress bar completed, Gloria's tense expression softened, and she seemed to drift into a peaceful sleep.

Arthur stared at her face—despite the grime and bruises, she was still breathtakingly beautiful. For a moment, he felt an impulse to lean in and kiss her, a bittersweet reminder of their past.

Before he could act, an impatient voice snapped him back to reality.

"What are you doing? Shouldn't we leave already?"

Arthur turned to see David standing nervously by the doorway, clutching the pistol he'd been given. The boy's eyes darted around the room, both horrified and morbidly curious about the scene before him. Arthur was sure that, if given the chance, David would have reached out to poke the corpses.

"Boom!"

Arthur barely restrained his frustration, his temper rising. What could have been a romantic, triumphant moment—a hero rescuing the woman he loved—was shattered by this clueless kid.

Unable to contain himself, Arthur smacked David on the back of the head. "You idiot! I told you to stay outside! What if someone ambushed us out there? We could've been turned into swiss cheese!"

David winced, tears springing to his eyes as he rubbed the lump forming on his head. He looked at Arthur, half-confused and half-indignant.

Arthur ignored his son's glare, lifting Gloria into his arms and holding her protectively. He muttered under his breath, "Always ruining the moment, this brat…"

Though grateful to this strange man for saving his mother, David felt a surge of suspicion. This "uncle" seemed overly familiar with his mother, and David didn't trust him.

Arthur and David made their way out of the building, where Delamain's sleek black taxi awaited. As they drove off, the carnage they left behind was quickly discovered.

---

Minutes later, NCPD officers arrived at the Night City Rehabilitation Center. A squad car with flashing red-and-blue lights screeched to a halt.

"Damn," muttered one officer as he lit a cigarette, staring at the building. "Looks like the director really made a mess this time. Cyber Security says everyone inside is dead."

"Good riddance," his partner replied, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Bunch of scavenger scum. If they hadn't pretended to be doctors, I'd have rounded them up ages ago. Let's check the bodies and wrap this up."

"What about an investigation?"

The senior officer snorted. "What for? Nobody cares if a bunch of scavengers get wiped out. If we dig too deep, we might find ourselves on the receiving end of a black-market hit."

With that, they entered the building to clean up the aftermath.

---

Inside the taxi, Arthur cradled Gloria gently, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Delamain," he said, "take us to Dr. Victor's clinic. You remember where it is, don't you?"

"Of course, Mr. Arthur," the AI replied smoothly. "Dr. Victor is widely regarded as one of the finest in the city. A true craftsman of cybernetics."

As the car rolled through the neon-lit streets, Arthur traced his fingers over Gloria's face, a mix of emotions stirring within him.

"Is this what life's been like for you since I left?" he murmured. "No Trauma Team membership? No safety net? Living in Night City without insurance is like walking naked through a minefield."

David's voice cut through his thoughts. "Are you really my dad?"

Arthur blinked and glanced at the boy. David's tone wasn't angry—just cold and calculating. He had already realized the truth but wanted to hear it confirmed.

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, I told you. Arthur Martinez. You're my son. You didn't think I came all this way just for fun, did you?"

David's face twisted in anger. "You're my father? Then why did you leave us?! Why did you abandon Mom and me?"

Years of pain and resentment boiled to the surface as David's voice rose, trembling with emotion. He clenched his fists, ready to lash out at the man he saw as the source of all his suffering.

Arthur sighed, his gaze softening as he held Gloria closer. "Listen, kid. I didn't leave because I wanted to. I was sick—cyberpsychosis. It was bad. If I'd stayed, I might've killed you both."

David froze, his anger momentarily replaced by confusion.

Arthur continued, his voice steady but laced with regret. "I had to leave Night City to find a cure. Staying here wasn't an option. If I hadn't left, you wouldn't even be here right now."

The air in the taxi grew heavy with silence. David stared at Arthur, his emotions a storm of disbelief and lingering resentment.

Arthur, however, seemed more focused on Gloria, brushing a strand of her red hair from her face. Despite the grim circumstances, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. His wife was still as stunning as he remembered.

David, meanwhile, remained skeptical of the man in front of him. Arthur seemed too smooth, too confident, and David wasn't sure he trusted his easy explanations.

Just then, Delamain's voice broke the tension. "We've arrived at Dr. Victor's clinic. I trust you'll choose Delamain's services again in the future?"

Arthur opened the door, stepping out with Gloria in his arms. "If you lower your rates, maybe I'll consider it. Otherwise, I might just buy my own damn car."

"That would be unfortunate," Delamain replied. "A dedicated driver adds a certain… prestige."

Arthur chuckled. "Prestige? I'm just a stray dog trying to survive."

David followed behind, his mind still racing with questions and emotions. But for now, he stayed silent, determined to protect his mother, no matter what it took.

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