Even in Night City, where regulations were loose and contraband rampant, the [Sandevistan]—a neural operating system-grade cyberware—remained a highly controlled luxury item.
On the market, the black market was flooded with cheap, castrated, inconsistent civilian versions. But finding a high-quality military-grade model in working condition? That was rare.
Getting one that was pristine—its serial number scrubbed, backdoors erased—was almost impossible.
Every circulating military [Sandevistan] wasn't luck—it was often a corporation testing 'volunteers' under the guise of opportunity.
For most mercs, installing one was no different from swallowing poison.
Powerful, yes—but the price was the abyss: a descent into cyberpsychosis, living perpetually on the edge of madness.
Maine was one of the lucky few who managed to snag an authentic one—even if secondhand.
Because of it, he'd come close to losing his mind countless times.
If not for his lover, his loyal crew, and the release of Arasaka's new immune suppressants and hormone inhibitors, he'd probably be retired—or dead in some gutter, shredded by MaxTac.
After getting rich and well-connected, he'd had every implant—his [Sandevistan] included—cleaned, replaced, and recalibrated to reduce the strain.
Now, Maine knew—it was time to burn it all.
...
"Fuck! Solomon Reed, you motherfucking son of a—!"
Maine roared.
His massive, hulking frame moved with impossible speed—so fast it left afterimages. Like a flicker of broken film, he burst from the flank straight into Arasaka's Special Operations security line.
Solomon Reed? Who the hell was Solomon Reed? Anyone know that name?
Behind cover, one of the security officers widened his cybernetic eyes—just in time to see the huge brown-skinned man charging straight at him. He tried to aim, but too slow. A grunt—and then he fell backward, dead before he hit the sand.
Nine left!
Ignoring the self-defense bots whirring to life, Maine saw only Abernathy's surviving security team.
His guns roared through smoke and muzzle flash. Enhanced by the [Sandevistan]'s hyper-accelerated reflexes and precision, his [Crusher] and [L-69 Zhou-Type] fired with lethal accuracy.
A flash from the [Crusher]—
At point-blank, the full-power slug slammed through ballistic armor. The target flew backward, armor crumpling like tin, crashing into a bot and knocking it over.
The [L-69 Zhuo]'s eight barrels flared—
Eight smart explosive rounds streaked through the air, crackling with static. A security officer in an EX0-1 exoskeleton raised his riot shield—too late. The blast twisted the frame, shattered the plating, and sent a mist of blood oozing from the cracks.
Maine didn't blink. He charged on.
He rammed one guard shoulder-first into the sandstone wall.
Then—smooth as clockwork—he yanked a grenade's pin and slapped it onto the man's chest, shoving him back into the rock face. As the man choked and gurgled, Maine spun away just as the explosion lit up behind him. His fist came down on the nearest bot's head—
Crack! The sound was like cracking an egg.
Maine kept advancing.
He marched through a storm of lead. Bullets shaved past his scalp, tore his clothes. Some were stopped by heavy armor. Some ricocheted off subdermal plating. Others drew blood—but he didn't slow.
Unconsciously, his teeth ground together. His eyes went hollow—emotionless, mechanical.
"Shit! Cyberpsycho! He's losing it!"
One guard shouted.
Bang! A shot—blood sprayed from his chest, and his head snapped clean off his shoulders.
Only when the crashed [Prospector] was within reach did Maine's eyes flicker back to awareness.
Without hesitation—clack!—his right arm's [Projectile Launch System] extended, the barrel locking onto the figure in black standing out starkly against the desert yellow.
The difference between the tailored suits of Arasaka's bodyguards and the tactical combat gear of the security team was stark.
"Not a chance!!"
At the very instant Maine fired, a figure clad in an EX0-1 exoskeleton blurred forward—matching his speed. The next moment, the grinding clash of metal-on-metal rang out, followed by a deep, brutal thud. The [Projectile Launch System] was knocked off aim, the shell detonating against the sandstone, scattering shrapnel that screamed against the vehicle's steel plating.
Then, the security officer raised his exoskeleton-powered arm and slammed a straight punch into Maine's crossed guard.
Thud!
The blow staggered Maine backward, his heavy combat boots crunching into the sand.
As the security officer drew his chainsaw shortsword to press the attack—bang!—a sniper shot forced him to throw himself into a clumsy roll, barely dodging in time.
The near miss jolted Maine back to awareness.
From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse—Panam. And Jackie's direction. No doubt, Panam was covering him from range…
"Pilar! Dorio! Falco! Provide overwatch—don't come closer! Damn it, that exoskeleton's tough. I'll make an opening for you!"
He spat, forcing down the nausea from continuous [Sandevistan] use. Dodging bullets left and right, he grabbed a handful of injectors from his tactical pouch—three immune suppressants, two combat stims—and jabbed them all in.
The security officer, catching his breath behind a rock, couldn't see what Maine was doing—but he was doing the same thing: reloading, dosing himself up.
Then both men roared, slamming into each other again like beasts—each flash of contact a blur to the human eye.
BOOM!
The grenade Maine had stuck onto a dying guard earlier finally detonated. A wet explosion burst through the dust and smoke.
Rattle…
A fresh layer of scorched yellow sand rained down. Behind her cover, Susan Abernathy lifted her head, face pale.
She'd heard someone shout "[Sandevistan]!"—and then, one by one, her security officers' and bots' signals had gone dark. She knew exactly what that meant. One wrong move, and she was dead.
"Solomon Reed… fuck Militech! Fuck the FIA! Fuck Washington!"
As the head of Arasaka Intelligence in Night City, Abernathy was well aware of the NUSA's so-called "greatest intelligence operative." He was on Arasaka's kill list.
Hearing that brown-skinned brute roar his name—it didn't sound like an act. He truly hated Solomon Reed. But why the hell was he attacking Arasaka? Why her? Was he being coerced?
She didn't have time to figure it out. Her bodyguards shoved her back down just as another volley thundered.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Nomad vehicle-mounted rockets and gunfire rained down.
Cough, cough…
Crawling low, Abernathy gripped her [Kyubi] rifle tight.
The Nomads had taken heavy losses after the Octant drone's last bombardment, but a few vehicles still fought on—anyone who could shoot or throw a grenade could still make a difference. It was enough to keep pressure on Arasaka's defenders, convincing Abernathy not to recall her heavy exosuit guard from the frontline.
Unfortunate—and fortunate.
Unfortunate that only three of her security team were equipped with EX0-1 exoskeletons, and only the team's chief officer had a [Sandevistan].
Fortunate that under Director Vela's leadership, Arasaka's Night City branch had recently expanded rapidly—even her Special Operations Division now fielded gear technically in violation of the Citywide Firepower Limitation Accord.
With the latest breakthroughs in implant medicine and procedure compatibility, high-load cyberware like [Sandevistan] was becoming easier to install safely.
Abernathy didn't sit idle. With the chief security officer pinned down, she made a quick decision.
"You four—support the officer!"
She turned to her four personal guards. "If I make it back alive, your families will receive top-grade compensation. I swear it."
It was, in her mind, the right call.
But she didn't know—someone was waiting for her to make exactly that mistake.
The moment her personal guard left her side, a thousand meters away—on the opposite side of Panam's sniper nest—
Beep-beep.
An encrypted transmission went through:
"Reed, you owe me for this. I've got eyes on Abernathy."