May 19, 2077 — Late night.
Outside Tavernier Suite, Tower 1 — Lobby.
Present.
...
David Martinez stood beneath the partition wall, his expression caught sowhere between awkward and tense as he stared into the wide eyes of Suneo Kawakami.
anwhile, Goro Takemura paced anxiously back and forth like an ant on a hot pan, his gaze darting repeatedly toward the closed suite door. The steady stream of reports about additional ard units arriving at Konpeki Plaza only deepened the furrow in his brow.
Sothing was wrong.
Takemura's instincts scread danger. His eyes swept the area, scanning for anything out of place, every nerve on high alert.
Then—
Rumble—!!
The sound of gunfire rolled in from afar, growing louder with every second.
David, Takemura, and the other Arasaka personnel—who had just monts ago been stiff with discomfort after witnessing the family drama inside—now froze, faces turning pale.
"What's happening?!" Takemura barked, seizing the nearby lounge manager by the arm.
"Unclear. The building's on full lockdown, red alert engaged." The manager dove behind the bar counter and began typing furiously. "Explosion reported in the Arasaka Coastal District... Militech terror attack? No—massive firefight?! That can't be—wait..." She looked up, face stricken with horror. "Mutiny!!"
"Kuso!"
Cursing under his breath, Takemura sprinted toward the suite door. "Martinez-kun, on guard!" he ordered sharply while moving.
"Roger that."
David nodded. The chain of command was clear—Takemura outranked him. Clack. He chambered a round in his Type-31 heavy machine gun, turning to tell Suneo to cover the elevator access—when suddenly:
Bang! Bang-bang!
Gunfire. Muzzle flashes. Blood splatter.
The shooters—Yorinobu's own bodyguards.
They had drawn blades and pistols, turning on their comrades without hesitation.
"Damn! Are you out of your minds?!"
"Shit—there is a traitor!"
Chaos erupted instantly. Curses and screams filled the hall as the lee broke out.
Blades and bullets tore through the air. The once-elegant lobby turned into a warzone—an internal bloodbath straight out of a street gang ambush.
"For the Eightfold Unity! For loyal death!"
The rebels shouted fanatically, attacking indiscriminately as they tore through furniture and walls, intent only on sowing destruction.
A Konpeki hostess with gilded skin took several bullets to the chest and fell screaming.
A hotel security guard in a butler's uniform was decapitated before he could react—his head rolling across the polished floor as blood fountained.
Executives who had gathered to pledge their loyalty were caught in the crossfire. So fell to blades, others to stray bullets—so didn't even have ti to scream.
It all happened too fast. In just a few seconds—
And yet, that was all it took.
Perhaps in the na of subtlety, Yorinobu's loyalists had only been equipped with light subdermal armor, combat stims, and minor cyberware. Ultimately, they were just light escort guards—no match for trained Arasaka operatives.
...
The on-site Arasaka Security Division officers quickly recovered from the initial confusion. Elite soldiers all, they regrouped within monts.
Though several fanatics had ambushed Takemura directly, the veteran reflexively activated his enhanced reflex boosters and full-body combat augntations—dodging gunfire and counter-killing in seconds.
Crash!
A decorative heart-shaped wall panel shattered as Takemura slamd one of the traitors against it by the throat, roaring, "Do you even know what you're doing?!"
Blood spread across the wall, but even as his face twisted and his nose and mouth bled, the dying man only coughed out, fanatical to the end: "You've already lost, Takemura-san... Arasaka... belongs to Lord Yorinobu... she... she can't take it..."
Bang!
A single, sharp gunshot ended the man's words. His skull burst apart into a wet, crimson ss.
David lowered his Type-31, releasing the trigger and letting the headless corpse slump to the floor.
He glanced over as Takemura, having fired the shot, rushed toward the suite without hesitation.
"Holy hell," David muttered. "Yorinobu's pulling a coup? So this is what an Arasaka family inheritance fight looks like?"
A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Well then... that's just perfect. Commander Vela's gonna co out on top for sure."
Still, duty ca first.
Pushing stray thoughts aside, David patted the shoulder of a nearby EMT. "Call for reinforcents. Treat the wounded—if it's safe. Stay sharp for traps."
Then, turning to Suneo, he barked, "Activate ergency power armor deploynt protocol. Set up a defensive line. Keep the route to the helipad open, no matter what."
Just then—ding! ding!
Six elevator cars arrived simultaneously.
As the doors slid open—whirrr!—a chanical hum filled the air.
David's pupils contracted sharply.
...
"Take cover!!" David shouted. "Enem—"
He didn't even finish the word before the sharp chanical clatter of weapon systems filled the air. A cluster of rotating tal barrels pushed through the elevator gaps—brrrrrrt! A storm of lead roared forth.
Right on its heels ca the whoosh of rocket fire.
BOOM!
Thud! Thud!
In an instant, gunfire, explosions, and the blare of alarms rged into chaos.
Walls shattered under the bullet storm, shockwaves tossing glass shards, masonry, and splintered wood into the air. Figures fell—grunts, screams, curses, and cries of pain erupted all at once.
"EXO exosuits—AST combat chs—infrared-tag smart grenades—damn, even adaptive grenades..."
Suneo Kawakami, having narrowly avoided the barrage thanks to David's warning, shook off the debris covering his armor. His face darkened as he ticked off the list of enemy hardware. The flying smart grenades pursued fleeing targets through the smoke, exploding with precision.
No doubt about it—these were all the latest-generation Arasaka weapons developed under Commander Vela's oversight at Arasaka Tower in Night City.
Baka! Just a short while ago, they'd been the ones using these very weapons against the New United States near Omaha. Now, those sa designs were being turned against them.
There was no mistaking it—this was preditated.
Grinding his teeth, Suneo spat, "Yorinobu Arasaka—you traitor!!"
...
Outside, chaos raged—but inside the suite, an eerie silence fell.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhhh—!!"
A scream—inhuman and warped beyond recognition.
Blood boiled; the brain trembled.
Yorinobu felt his entire body ignite—every sense afla.
The fusion virus's strength was far beyond what he had imagined. His muscles tore, his bones shattered, his organs twisted...
Endless agony consud every trace of consciousness.
[Holy shit, what did you take, man? So new brand of super-Viagra? Immortality juice this volatile—Christ, feels like sothing's crawling through your veins...] That was Johnny Silverhand's last snarky comnt before his voice cut out—whether from Yorinobu's system collapse or the Relic chip's malfunction, no one could tell.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Yorinobu tore at his own body uncontrollably, slamming his fists into the marble floor over and over.
"Good. Very good. Yorinobu—your folly leaves speechless."
The last ember of paternal sentint vanished from Saburo Arasaka's eyes. Turning away from the burning skyline beyond the Arasaka Coastal Complex, his chest rose and fell with cold restraint as he gazed at his youngest son's grotesque transformation—eyes rolled white, blood seeping from every orifice, flesh writhing, bones expanding, dark red veins spreading beneath translucent skin.
Yorinobu's fists pounded the floor again and again, blood splattering with each impact.
Though his hand bones were already twisted beyond recognition, each strike carried more force than the last—cracking even the black-gold marble tiles, leaving deep dents in the floor.
"Physical enhancent... evolution."
Narrowing his eyes, Saburo recalled Vela's earlier assessnt of the Tyrant-Ghoul-118-09 Fusion Virus project—T-G-Progenitor-Veronica-Ghoul Hybrid Strain. Her reports had described its "evolutionary potential," "new organogenesis," and "pathway to the new human."
Quietly, Saburo stepped back toward the door, widening the distance between them.
A pity—or rather, a disgrace. The untested prototype sample had been injected by this foolish son.
"What a waste."
Shing! Saburo drew the short blade at his waist—[Nirvana].
"You're no longer even worthy to serve as a Relic host. I only hope you haven't tainted too much of Vela's work. From this mont, my son—this will be the last ti I call you that—you will continue to exist only as an experint. A contribution to Arasaka's prosperity."
With that—clink!—he threw the blade.
The ultrafine nano-edged wire of [Nirvana] pierced Yorinobu's forehead clean through.
He collapsed instantly, blood gushing out across the polished floor.
"Arasaka-sama!" Takemura burst in with his n. The sound of automatic gunfire crackled outside like a thunderstorm.
"Yorinobu's rebelled! The troops are mutinying—his n are attacking the executive floor! You must evacu—uh!" He froze at the sight of Yorinobu's lifeless body sprawled in blood.
"Treat it according to biological experint disposal standards."
Saburo's voice carried no emotion. "What's the situation outside?"
"Security Division SAT's David—" Takemura turned slightly to report, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught movent.
"Arasaka-sama, look out!"
He lunged, tackling Saburo to the ground just as—CLANG!—a blade slamd into the wall, the hilt quivering violently.
"Impossible..." Saburo gasped, twisting around sharply.
Shock flashed across Saburo's face—then fury. A killing chill filled his expression. Ignoring Takemura's attempt to help him up, he clenched his teeth. "That... is mine."
Privately, Saburo had pored over countless experint logs from the Sonnentreppe Project. He knew the flaws of virus infection too well: common undead could be killed easily by destroying the brain or spine; as for variants like the T-series Tyrants, such mutations took ti—weeks, sotis months. And yet, here was Yorinobu, reanimating monts after a fatal head wound.
"This is... mine."
Staring at his "resurrected" son, the hunger in Saburo's eyes was unmistakable.
"Hahaha... I crawled back from hell, Father! And that's the last ti I'll ever call you that."
Yorinobu's skin flushed crimson, blood vessels glowing like molten tal beneath the surface. The wound on his face squird with regenerating tissue as he staggered to his feet.
Tilting his head, he wiped the blood from his lips with a deford, bone-encrusted hand. Steam hissed from his nose, mouth, and the cracks spreading along his limbs. His laughter was wild, deranged.
"Saburo Arasaka! You dogshit relic! Your dream of immortality... ends here!"
His voice was guttural, bestial—mocking Saburo with Johnny Silverhand's rough, rebellious cadence.
Saburo's fury ignited.
To hell with decorum or family na. His face twisted in rage. "Kill him!!"
The Lone Wolf Hundred—cybernetic ninjas loyal to the Arasaka Family Compound—hesitated for only a heartbeat. Takemura was the first to react.
Bang!
The tungsten-tipped bullet zipped past Yorinobu's head by a hair's breadth.
He grinned—a grotesque slit tearing his mouth toward his ear. "Heh..." His crimson eyes locked on Saburo's. The sheer heat of his killing intent seed to ignite the air.
WHOOOM! Yorinobu literally burst into flas.
Clothing burned to ash. Flas clung to his flesh.
Clink, clank—
tal clashed against marble. Takemura emptied his magazine while advancing, then dropped the gun and drew his blade, his expression steely.
"Lord Yorinobu—surrender!"
Yorinobu didn't answer. He didn't even seem to hear. With a burst of force—BOOM!—his shoes disintegrated underfoot, tiles cracking as he lunged forward.
A pale, clawed hand reached for Takemura's head.
Takemura twisted aside, both hands gripping his sword as he slashed at Yorinobu's neck.
But Yorinobu didn't even flinch. From his exposed white flesh, clusters of bloodshot eyes bulged, forcing their way to the surface and spinning wildly. Then, with a wet tearing sound—shhk!—four grotesque appendages burst from his waist.
They were deep crimson—half flesh, half sinew—shimring with wet light like living tails.
Two snapped together, lashing toward Takemura like steel whips.
"What the—?!" Startled, Takemura barely managed to raise his blade in defense. The impact struck like a cannon blast.
BOOM! He was sent flying into the wall, debris raining down in a cloud of dust.
The other two appendages swept across the room like a hurricane, shredding wall panels, smashing paintings and ornants into fragnts.
The bulky bodyguards accompanying them were impaled and torn apart in seconds.
"Hahaha!" Yorinobu cackled madly, seizing a fallen Quinque from the floor, crushing it in his jaws, and swallowing chunks of tal and bio-mass alike. Slick, steaming blood sared across his face, the stench thick enough to make one gag.
Bullets sparked off his skin.
Under the searing stimulus, Yorinobu's body seed to transcend itself—unlocking so feral, bloodthirsty instinct. His claws grew sharper, his speed faster, his strength heavier, his regeneration near-instant. His shoulders and back bulged and writhed with rapid cell growth until—shhk!—new organs burst through his skin.
Fwoosh!
The blood that sprayed out combusted on contact with air.
A cyber ninja caught in the blast didn't even have ti to scream. His face lted under the thousand-degree heat, and the mont he froze, Yorinobu's claw smashed into him with bone-crushing force. His chest armor and subdermal plating caved inward as ribs snapped like dry twigs, hurling him across the room.
BOOM! The entire suite trembled with the impact.
"Adaptive organs synchronized with the evolved supercell strain..."
As his guards pulled him back toward safety, Saburo's expression darkened further at the sight of the new growths sprouting from Yorinobu's waist and shoulders.
If Vela were here, she might have explained it to him—Kagune.
And judging from their structure, at least S class, by CCG standards—Koukaku and Rinkaku types.
"Arasaka-sama! It's too dangerous—please evacuate imdiately!"
The loyal guards ford a human wall in front of Saburo, unleashing suppressive fire with their Masamune rifles.
"SAT operative David Martinez reporting—our unit is under heavy assault from armored hostiles!"
"Arasaka Coastal Complex confirms—this is a mutiny. Multiple ASDF infantry regints have landed in Night City, rallying under their commanding officers with the slogan 'Divine Retribution!' They've turned traitor!"
"Latest update from Konpeki Plaza—the building's security system is under dual attack from both internal and external sources! Arasaka-sama, you must evacuate imdiately! Proceed to Arasaka Tower—Michiko-sama and Vice President Jas Thomas are demanding status updates!"
...
"Withdraw."
The word scraped out from Saburo's throat like steel dragged over stone. To retreat before his weak, unworthy son—he found it shaful beyond words.
"You can't run, Saburo Arasaka!"
In the grand hall, Yorinobu—arm shattered and regrown, half his face blasted off by buckshot—broke free of Takemura's desperate suppression and turned toward his father. His mangled back convulsed, bulging grotesquely before—splrch!—a geyser of blood and flesh erupted.
Out of the carnage, two irregular, fla-shaped wings of blood burst forth. Countless diamond-shaped crimson crystals solidified midair and shot toward Saburo's position.
"Arasaka-sama!"
"Protect Arasaka-sama!!"
The cyber ninjas leapt forward, shielding Saburo with their bodies. Splinters, shrapnel, and tiles exploded under the impact.
Debris rained down in a storm of dust.
"Arasaka-sama!"
All eyes turned toward Saburo. anwhile, Yorinobu—his face half-skeletal, half-regenerated—grinned through the flas.
"It's ti—move in!!"
The words had barely left his mouth when—fwoooosh!—the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Tavernier Suite lit up with searing light. High-frequency cutters sliced through the reinforced glass, several centiters thick, shattering it to pieces.
Jets flared. Shadows poured through the breach.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
It was Yorinobu's personal strike team—his most loyal soldiers.
Whether their master lived or died no longer mattered. They had taken the Arasaka Coastal uprising as their cue, striking when the defenders' attention was drawn toward the elevator-side firefight. With nearby aerial drones diverted to other sectors and patrol AIs offline, the unit—equipped with cutting-edge EXO exoskeletons—used magnetic gloves and boots to scale the tower's walls, breaching from a hidden service chamber mid-building.
Now, gunfire erupted once more.
Brrrrt! Brrrrt! Boom!
The hovering AVs parked on the rooftop helipad exploded in a chain of fireballs.
Dust cascaded from the ceiling. Through the haze, Saburo could hear Yorinobu's triumphant laughter.
"Saburo Arasaka! That's always been your fatal flaw—arrogance! You think yourself the most seasoned man alive..."
...
May 20th, 2077 — early morning.
News of the Night City mutiny began to spread.
At the sa ti—aboard the Arasaka USA Regional Executive jet, en route from the San Francisco Bay Area to Night City.
Inside the cabin, Vela tapped her finger against the table. The dim blue light from the holographic data board reflected in her indigo irises.
The screen showed a stream of live footage—so clear, so grainy:
Heavy fighting in the Arasaka Coastal District. The Russell estate in Westbrook under attack. Chaos at Konpeki Plaza. And, in Suite 1 of Tower 1—the warped silhouette trading blows with Takemura and the SP protection detail led by David Martinez...
"Rinkaku, Koukaku, Ukaku..."
As an expert in ghoul eradication, Vela instantly recognized the predatory appendages growing from that mutated figure.
"So... the hybrid virus combining the 'Mother' Rize Kamishiro and the Kakuja 'Owl' samples can rapidly generate a Kakuhou. Impressive. But... that single injection of condensed Rc cells won't sustain him for long. And those eyes all over his body... classic G-virus mutation traits."
"Just how much of the G strain's reproductive impulse has manifested, I wonder..."
Resting her chin on one hand, Vela pondered quietly.
That old fossil Saburo must've stumbled hard this ti.
"But tell , dear Uncle..." she murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "How exactly do you plan to get rid of now?"
—
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