"Lucy, good afternoon! I'm glad you could make it. How's training going?"
"Director V."
Stepping into the vehicle, Lucy didn't let the Counter-Intelligence Director's friendliness make her arrogant. She knew her place and behaved accordingly—bowing politely before replying, "I just finished the system refresher courses and was about to begin advanced training. I didn't expect the war to break out so soon."
Click. V snapped her personal terminal shut, laughing heartily.
"Well, fortune and disaster are two sides of the same coin. If not for Myers' little 'gift,' you kids might never have had access to the FIA's—and the entire NUSA's—cutting-edge netrunning tech."
Tapping her fingers against the armrest, V leaned back into the leather seat, gesturing toward the red-haired Asian woman seated by the window.
"And this is?"
"You already know."
Swirling the champagne in her glass, Song So Mi glanced at the pretty young netrunner with pastel rainbow hair. "Your eyes tell me you recognize me."
Taking a sip, she added smoothly, "Allow me to reintroduce myself—Song So Mi. You may also know me by my old White House codename—Songbird."
"Lucyna Kushinada."
Lucy drew a steady breath.
Not quite reverence—more like genuine respect. The woman who had lit the fuse of the Fifth Corporate War was nothing short of legendary.
This was the woman who'd played everyone: the Voodoo Boys, the FIA, Myers herself… she'd fooled all of Militech's upper brass in one masterstroke.
And rumor had it—she'd even drilled holes through the Blackwall, making contact with rogue AIs.
Sure, that contact had nearly destroyed her body and mind, forcing her to seek asylum with Arasaka—but still. The fact she survived made her terrifyingly impressive.
To be personally trained by someone like her… so worth it!
Kiwi's going to freak out when she hears about this… Lucy thought privately, fully aware how rare top-tier knowledge—and mentors like this—really were.
"I've read your file." Song So Mi's voice broke the moment of awe. "Descendant of corporate elites—Paris Tower, Warsaw Branch, Arasaka Europe Division. You could've stayed on the golden path, but you ran away. Family shattered, ten prime years of development wasted."
It was as if she'd read Lucy's mind.
"Before we begin," Song So Mi said softly, "I have to ask—after crawling back through the mud, what have you learned? And don't tell me all you gained were 'friends.'"
Lucy froze halfway through taking her seat.
Song So Mi's calm gaze held her.
A moment later, Lucy sat down across from V, in section B. "Do I need a second background check for this 'advanced training'?"
"No," Song So Mi said, her tone tinged with weary amusement. "I already skimmed your records. I just can't help but think—some people beg for opportunities and never get them. Others throw theirs away without a second thought. This world's inequality never ceases to amaze me."
"..."
Sensing the shift in tone, V raised her hand lightly. "Let's move."
Whirr. The hum of the vector engines filled the cabin, cutting short the uncomfortable conversation.
As for Lucy's companions—Kiwi and Rebecca—they hadn't been invited aboard.
They weren't high-ranking enough for this car. They rode in another one.
Lucy, on the other hand, while holding no official title, had connections: a well-placed father in Arasaka Europe, personal rapport with Director V, and even a file in the hands of the Vela.
Naturally, Song So Mi's teaching roster included more than just her—but still, being chosen was no small thing.
With a faint whir, the Surveyor-class AV lifted off, entering cruise mode.
The brief tension had soured Lucy's good mood.
She turned her head toward the transparent optical window.
Below, the convoy swept past the northern industrial zone and the ever-expanding Arasaka Research District, its automated construction machines roaring tirelessly.
Farther beyond, the Arasaka Coastal Port—colossal transport ships and landing craft lined along the shore.
Beyond that: the Badlands.
Across the barren, lifeless desert stretched moving specks of yellow-brown—refugee convoys, nomad tribes halting work to take shelter, and perhaps a few desperate adventurers chasing their Night City dreams.
Seeing that desolation, Lucy couldn't help but think of Panam Palmer—the hot-tempered Aldecaldo nomad she once knew.
During that damned heist, she'd lost many of her Aldecaldo brothers. According to the updates passed along by Jackie Welles, Panam had torn into Maine and the others afterward—Lucy included.
For her rebellious youth—the ideological clash that led her to run away, tearing the veil of fatherly affection and resulting in a complete family breakdown—Panam's reaction had been… silence. After learning the full story of Lucy's imprisonment, narrow escape, and eventual survival through self-disclosure and return to Arasaka, the fiery nomad woman had simply muttered one word before walking away:
"Dramatic."
Dramatic, huh…
Lucy's expression dimmed slightly.
Admitting that the last decade of her life had been a failure—it wasn't an easy thing to swallow.
"Here."
A dark hand extended toward her.
It was Harry, the easygoing Black man seated across from her in Section B—one of the few genuinely good-natured types among Arasaka's scheming corporate sharks, and one of V's most trusted aides.
He offered her a glass of sparkling wine.
"In Night City, you can't make it alone. And even if we're headed to San Francisco now… here's to new beginnings."
He smiled.
"Thanks."
Lucy accepted the drink.
Friends, huh? she thought.
Yes. She'd gained friends—and after all the chaos, the wandering, and the pain… it was worth it.
She turned from the optical window and looked again at Song So Mi.
"So what if all I got were friends? Mine are stronger than you think."
"Bullets don't care whether you're strong or fragile," Song So Mi replied flatly.
But there was no malice in her tone—only a trace of nostalgia, maybe even envy.
V caught the subtle shift and quietly flashed Harry a thumbs-up.
Harry grinned and thumped his chest in response.
"Well," Song So Mi murmured, raising her glass and gazing into the fine bubbles rising within, "as my 'mentor' used to say—'If you're going to play adult games, you'd better be ready to face adult consequences.'"
"Your mentor?" Lucy asked curiously.
"Yeah," Song So Mi said. "My handler back in the agency. He's dead now. I even tried to betray him once—but he lived through it."
The sheer weight of that confession left Lucy speechless.
This woman was born defiant, Lucy thought.
Reading her expression, Song So Mi gave a wry, almost self-deprecating smile.
"We don't always get choices. But after I joined the FIA, every choice I made—good or bad—I never regretted. Joining Arasaka was no different. The only thing I've lost," she said softly, "is direction."
Draining her glass, she folded her arms and leaned back into the flight seat.
"The ones who never doubt, never hesitate… they're the ones you should truly fear."
It was unclear whether she was talking to Lucy—or to herself.
...
San Francisco Bay Area.
Oakland – Arasaka Tower Rooftop.
Standing before the panoramic window, Vela clasped her hands behind her back, gazing at the distant silhouette of the Golden Gate Strait—now missing its iconic red suspension bridge.
"Lost? No… those who stay true to their goal and push forward to the end—they're never lost."
The faint orange glow in her eyes dimmed as she smiled lightly.
Then—Ding-dong.
A digital chime. Incoming access request.
"Enter," Vela said.
"Ma'am," came the voice of a subordinate, stepping through the door. "The SAT units rotated off the Santa Fe front have just arrived in the Bay Area."