A jolt of electricity runs through his spinal cord, cybernetic implants humming back to life. A gasp of breath as autonomic processes reboot and he comes fully awake in a pool of blood and bullet casings, spilled like drinks and popcorn on a maya-net theater floor. The smoking ruins of some State Empire remote litter the alleyway; the machine that had nearly killed him. Grunting, he rises, using a concrete wall for support and leaving hand-shaped bloodstains over the advertisements plastered over every inch of the place. Sorry, Happy Panda Noodle, he thinks to himself.
“What the hell IS this stuff?” the paramedic mutters, looking at the syringe in her hand. Experimental combat drugs that control wanted field tested; their corp masters had some sick ideas of how to go about it. When they owned every bit of your flesh and silicon, it was hard to say no.
“Stow the questions, Security, we’re leaving. The reds have us in the spotlight.” Their oversight for the mission beckons to follow her, slipping her hacking device’s visor back over her eyes.
Sometimes u just gotta jab it in?