Cyberpunk: Infinite Progress Begins with Arasaka

Choosing to run away, yet drawn closer to the source of it all.

Huff... huff...

A foul-smelling wind mixed with light drizzle tapped against Lucy's hood.

She kicked at her stained sneakers and stepped over a rusted threshold into a dilapidated abandoned factory in Watson. Her pastel-tinted rainbow hair tips glimmered faintly in the dim interior.

"Oh, Lucy, you're back. Uh... what happened to you?"

Standing night watch, Rebecca jumped down from a crate of ammo she had been using as a cushion, slinging her garishly-painted, comically oversized "Carnage" shotgun over her petite frame. Unlike her bold exterior, she was emotionally perceptive—and immediately noticed Lucy's pale, rattled face under the hood.

Rebecca looked puzzled.

What happened? Just picking something up, right?

"Where's Maine?"

Lucy didn't answer, removing her hood and asking instead.

"Inside." Rebecca pulled a bottle of Lucy's favorite ice-cold beer from the mini fridge and handed it to her, pointing toward the back of the factory.

"Mm."

Taking the beer and nodding, Lucy hurried off.

Huff... ssshhh...

At a folding metal table piled with ammo boxes, weapon crates, discarded cans, instant food wrappers, and empty beer bottles, Pilar lay on a sleeping mat with a braindance headset on. Maine and Dorio were tangled together on an old sofa, exchanging kisses while injecting themselves with a pneumatic syringe—bearing Arasaka's clover logo.

Drip.

Maine looked up instantly.

Lucy approached, pulled a tactical medical pouch—genuine Arasaka issue—from the back of her jacket, and placed it on the table.

"Your meds."

"Thanks."

No more fooling around. Maine grabbed the pouch and rummaged inside, pulling out a box of sealed injectors and a mist inhaler.

"Immunosuppressants, flexible stimulants... premium stuff. Gloria's son's climbing up fast. With this batch and the order Jackie placed, we're set..."

He glanced over at Lucy.

"Told you it'd be safe. You got back faster than your usual night runs too... wait, Lucy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Met that son of Gloria you mentioned. Almost got killed by him."

Taking off her track jacket to reveal a tight black netrunner bodysuit, Lucy slumped down beside Kiwi, who was watching the news, twisted open the beer, and took a heavy swig. Her mind was hazy, expression complicated.

"Huh?"

That caught not only Maine's attention, but Kiwi's too.

"He said his name is David Martinez. Told me to tell you he remembers everything you did for his mom. He'll honor the discount, pay the debt, and if you ever need meds or anything not conflicting with Arasaka's corporate interests, just reach out to him directly." Rubbing her temple and trying to refocus, Lucy relayed the message to Maine.

"Hoh."

Maine crossed his arms.

"Kid only graduated two months ago, right? Barely scraped through the program, had no implant background at all—and he's talking that big already?"

Lucy pointed to Maine's bulky cybernetic arms.

"Maine, his implants seem to be the same model as yours—[Projectile Launch System]—but his version is more advanced."

"Damn. Arasaka really throws money around..."

It was hard to tell if he was mocking or admiring. Maine just let out a hearty laugh.

Of course he was jealous. Saying otherwise would be lying to himself. But he didn't dwell on it.

Once, he'd been a soldier for the NUSA. He'd had access to advanced combat implants but chose to leave the service. The reason? His conscience couldn't take it.

The New United States had done too many dirty deeds.

Maybe Arasaka was just as dirty.

But compared to what he experienced in the NUSA military... all he could say was that distance lends enchantment. One kind of rotten was just worse than another. Now, for money and survival—and thanks to Jackie's endorsement—he'd made up his mind to work for Arasaka.

"But the world's getting more turbulent," Maine said, turning to Dorio with sincerity. "With Vela Adelheid pushing things from the top, Arasaka's definitely gearing up for something big. I doubt we'll avoid a second Metal War. After this next job, once we make real money, I want to... pff!"

Before he could finish, the musclebound Dorio elbowed him back into the couch.

"Maine, you idiot. Stop running your mouth. First focus on how to deal with Faraday, steal the goods, and report back to Mr. Jackie Welles..."

Here they go again... the sweet bickering.

Shaking her head, Lucy looked away, troubled.

Her gaze drifted until it settled, blankly, on the blurry news broadcast playing from a cheap projector.

"If you want to settle on the moon rather than just visit, Lucy," Kiwi suddenly said through a cloud of smoke, "you'll need to take more corp jobs. Only corporate gigs bring serious cash. Soon, even the safe ones will disappear..."

"You mean war?"

Kiwi didn't respond.

Lucy followed her gaze.

The news wasn't from Night City. It was about the US-Mexico border.

The shaky footage showed dozens of Barghest mercenaries in yellow-green-tinted Militech-style light exosuits standing before a half-collapsed burning building, backed by APCs and bipedal mechs.

Their opposition? Troops with Soviet-style gear and eerily similar tactics and movement—likely NUSA military or Lazarus Group mercs.

With Arasaka staying quiet for now, Militech hadn't dispatched its official forces.

Instead, both sides were in a full-blown PR war, hurling propaganda.

"East versus West. Barghest versus Lazarus. Free States versus Washington. Arasaka versus Militech..."

Kiwi's face remained expressionless. "From New Mexico to Arizona, riots are breaking out all over—attacks on federal agencies and officers. Texas Free State's stance is ambiguous... what a show."

Then the news footage cut to a new segment, showing bust portraits of two key figures involved in the border attacks.

One was a commanding and beautiful corporate executive.

The other—a blood-drenched, crazed woman who bloomed like a thorny rose amid the slaughter.

At just a glance, Lucy couldn't look away.

"A pack of brutal beasts, driven by even more brutal monsters, tearing each other apart."

Her gaze dimmed, and she spoke with quiet bitterness.

Sealed-away memories she'd tried to avoid were resurfacing with painful clarity. That burning ache made her recall the place she once called home. Her original family. Her parents…

Beasts driven to brutality.

Strip away the glitter and polish, expose the core.

All she saw—whether it was Vela Adelheid, praised as a gem by Saburo Arasaka himself, hailed as the Dawn Rose by corporate bootlickers, or anyone else—were people steeped in blood and filth from head to toe.

Kiwi glanced at Lucy, who wore a pained expression for reasons unknown.

That little savings girl she picked up sure had her secrets...

Thud.

A muffled sound.

The room went silent.

"Yo, this is Maine."

Maine stopped messing around with Dorio. He leaned forward, legs spread wide, sitting with the force of a general. His face turned stern, eyes glowing with a sharp orange hue.

"Faraday? Switched comm chips again... Yeah yeah, cautious as always. Don't need you to tell me... My netrunner tracked Arasaka personnel shifts—doesn't that show my attitude? You're cautious, hiding info. Why can't I be cautious too? We're screwing with Arasaka here! Can't be too careful... Don't rush me, I know what I'm doing..."

Beep.

The warehouse fell silent.

"Tch. It was Faraday," Maine muttered, glancing around at the crew. Pilar, with his long limbs, removed his braindance headband.

"Alright, folks. Fun time's over. It's showtime."

He slipped on a sleeveless jacket, exhaled deeply, rubbed his hands together, and grinned. "We're stealing from Arasaka. Playing double agent. Faking a heist from Arasaka while actually screwing over Faraday and that four-eyed nerd's Militech backers... Jackie's gig is insane."

As the team prepped, Lucy knew it was time.

Time to work for Arasaka.

Just like her estranged father, she was now working for Arasaka.

In the end, she hadn't fully escaped the future her father tried to carve out for her…

Rising with Kiwi, Lucy began changing clothes, checking her gear—hacking tools, defense utilities. She glanced through the cracked window near the ventilation fan.

Night had fallen. The city skyline glowed with chaotic neon, coloring the sky like a shattered palette.

Just like Night City's turbulent times.

Just like the brewing unrest across the Free States.

...

The next day.

Corporate Plaza.

Rainy skies. The downpour from last night hadn't stopped the citizens from raging about politics.

"Down with Washington tyranny! Independence for the Free States!"

"Forward! The Star-Spangled Banner will fly again!"

It always started the same—shouting, heated arguments, and then, inevitably, fists.

Tear gas, pepper spray, Molotovs. Even with the heavy tension, no one fired guns—yet. This was Corporate Plaza, after all. NCPD, Arasaka, Militech, Kang Tao agents, security guards, and armored units were all on high alert, loaded and watching.

Night City, Arasaka Tower, 97th Floor.

A nameplate read: [Russell]. This was Director Russell's executive office.

Vela gazed out the polarized, adjustable glass window.

The city buzzed with chaotic life. Night City's usual madness in full swing.

She gave a faint smile, spun her executive chair, and tapped her massive luxury desk with one finger.

"One hundred units."

"B-grade and A-grade Quinques seem better suited for the Security Division." After a short pause, she looked at the two respectfully standing subordinates. "Assign your teams accordingly. I want field data."

Bryan and Laurie—her Black and White Shades.

Of all her former personal guards, these two were the most capable.

As Vela's power rose, so did their ranks.

"You're dismissed."

"Yes, ma'am!" ×2

As a central figure in the widely reported border attack, even amid her North America duties, Vela still carved out time to organize one more report—

[Personal Project: "Quinque" — Interim Weaponization Results]

Always more reports to file.

Propping her chin on two fingers, she thoughtfully skimmed the summary page on the holo-screen.

This was her interim report to Saburo Arasaka, detailing the weaponization progress of her new memory-metal project—"Quinque Steel."

At least, in this Cyberpunk world, it had entered the early phases of military application.

According to the CCG (Commission of Counter Ghoul), a Quinque is a weapon created by extracting and weaponizing the Kakuhou from a ghoul.

Aside from the required Kakuhou willingly provided by a ghoul and the high concentration of Rc cells within, what interested Vela the most was the technology used in the making of the Quinque—specifically, the memory alloy dubbed "Quinque Steel." The unique composition and specialized forging process were worth deeper exploration.

While in Tokyo, Vela had subtly shared with Arasaka's local manufacturing division bits and pieces of the memory metal tech she had learned from the other "her," passed down by Dr. Kouitsu Chigyou (chief CCG researcher). Whether it was presented as sudden flashes of inspiration, rough sketches, or iterative modeling notes, her input was noticed.

The shared methods were likely limited to those used for forging low-grade Quinque steel ingots suitable for processing B-grade Kakuhou—nowhere near the terrifying versatility of the standard issue suitcases of CCG doves, which could transform into a dozen unique, grotesque shapes stretching from one to over ten meters long.

Yet even this modest contribution, when brought to Arasaka and dubbed "Quinque Steel" by Vela, immediately caught the attention of the company's engineers.

Her influence certainly played a role in making them pay attention, but the real clincher was in the test results—the shape memory effects, superelastic properties, and malleability were truly world-class.

Deliciously impressive!

Quinque Steel provided real supplementary value to Arasaka's current memory metal applications—less a lifeline, more than mere icing on the cake. Its industrial impact was undeniable.

Memory metals already had a wide range of uses—heavy and light industry, military, medical, high tech. So with that foundation, and as Saburo saw Vela producing one ingenious concept after another beyond her work on the Sonnentreppe project, it became natural for her to begin promoting the Quinque system in Night City.

She tapped her fingers against the touchscreen keyboard as she reviewed her report on the holo-screen—

"Like bio-components, while the first generation of biological weapons [Quinque] has significant flaws, they are highly compatible with various missions, resistant to EMP attacks, and undetectable by standard scanners..."

Keeping the details light, Vela framed the Quinque project in an experimental tone, focusing on its potential rather than explaining its full manufacturing process.

She only provided projected parameters and a roadmap, noting that mass production would only begin once Phase 1 of Arasaka's new R&D center was complete.

Saburo was the CEO of Arasaka, not a researcher.

Vela knew exactly what needed reporting.

She mastered the art of appropriate transparency—enough to inform her superiors, but not enough to strip herself bare. A few personal secrets were, in fact, beneficial.

What Saburo cared about was her loyalty, her personal safety, and her anti-Militech, anti-NUSA stance. Her bright ideas? He'd seen plenty.

After all, wasn't she simply following his mandate?

Let her creativity run wild in Night City and across North America.

Her unexpected discovery of Quinque Steel, promptly reported, benefited Arasaka's entire manufacturing division. But weaponized Quinques—like the Cyberarm Titan or Cyberarm Tyrant—were still experimental. Strictly speaking, such "pet projects" didn't need executive notice.

Saburo trusted his subordinates, and Vela wasn't just a minor figure anymore.

Since her public debut and "reunion" with Michiko Arasaka, Vela had steadily begun inheriting the late Kei Arasaka's legacy. She had become an indispensable figure in Arasaka's North American strategy.

With the passage of time, she had directly impacted or orchestrated:

The Night City land acquisition deal, the foundation of Arasaka's new R&D center, realignment of North American Arasaka loyalist factions, the Austin summit, the reorganization of the Barghest into a mercenary group and their march eastward, gunfire in New Mexico and Arizona, the unrest in the Free States of the West, and the growing tensions across Washington and Oregon

Vela had become the cornerstone of Arasaka's new North American strategy.

Her importance was now second only to Michiko Arasaka, rivaling even the most senior of Arasaka's continental board directors.

For someone of that caliber, keeping some secrets was expected.

Even Saburo's favorite and most similar child, Kei Arasaka, hadn't been fully open—secretly dating in the U.S., fathering a child who turned out to be Saburo's unexpected American granddaughter only after Kei died.

Beep.

[Sent.]

"Phew..."

Vela stretched her wrist and leaned back in her executive chair. Her sapphire-blue eyes reflected the holographic flood of data, charts, and video reports streaming on the overhead screen.

The heads of Special Operations and Counter-Intelligence had confirmed: the disinformation campaign against Militech's spy network in Night City had begun.

Kurt Hansen was no slouch in either competence or charisma.

Tempted by the chance to create his own version of Lazarus, Hansen was even more invested than Vela now.

Sporting his usual dog tag necklace, loose tee, and cargo pants, he worked the recruitment circuit like a stage actor. Thanks to his efforts, the Barghest's evolution into a proper mercenary group was thriving.

In the Midwestern states, once-independent territories, droves of rednecks, cowboys, and war-born avengers—people who hated the New U.S.A.—were lining up for another shot at Washington.

Even if the group was infiltrated, even if spies got in, so what? Frontline mercs weren't privy to secrets. Once trained, they were immediately deployed to high-conflict standoff zones.

Washington, struggling with poor PR and nationwide unrest, had adopted a pig's strategy: back pressed against the wall, nothing exposed, nothing to grab.

Meanwhile, behind the scenes, they were stockpiling Lazarus heavies in New Mexico and Arizona.

"Pig tactics, huh."

Vela stroked her chin, her smile deepening with thought.

Then I'll use falcon tactics—wear them down slowly.

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