A rhythmic metallic scraping sound approached from the distance, breaking the surrounding silence, like a metronome from another world slowly drawing near.
On the rooftop, that skull that had maintained silence all along had red light flowing in its eyes. It elegantly adjusted direction, jaw opening and closing in silent report, like a capable assistant tattling to superiors.
Inside the garage, Rebecca and Pilar's hearts leapt to their throats again. The two simultaneously held their breath, staring fixedly at the movement outside the wall hole.
Those footsteps carried an indisputable steadiness, each step precisely placed in the gaps between heartbeats, making people unconsciously adjust their breathing to synchronize.
First entering their field of vision was a deep, dark red—a color like congealed blood that remained vivid even under the scorching desert sun.
Then, an extremely tall and imposing figure slowly approached, almost completely blocking the light at the entrance.
He was entirely shrouded in a dark red robe with peculiar tailoring and a strong sense of religious ceremony. The hem swayed gently with his steps, vaguely outlining the inhuman, solid contours filled with mechanical power beneath.
Several metal tentacles of varying thickness—equipped with various indescribable tools or weapons at their tips—writhed and coiled slightly behind him and under his robe sleeves like resting metal pythons, gleaming with cold, hard metallic luster.
Most jaw-dropping was that two particularly thick tentacles casually carried three Maelstrom members' corpses at their ends, as easily as carrying grocery bags, while another steadily held a massive, heavy industrial battery that looked quite valuable.
His face was hidden beneath a helmet of archaic design and complex structure. Only a pair of compound optical lenses emitted steady crimson glow like two burning coals, first calmly surveying the eliminated intruders on the street, meticulously assessing the battlefield, finally precisely fixing on the garage where they were hiding. That gaze seemed able to penetrate walls and see every trace of fear in their hearts.
"Good Lord..." Pilar gasped, voice trembling, instinctively shielding Rebecca backward, spine pressed tightly against the cold wall as if that could draw some insignificant sense of security. "What... what the hell is that thing? Some fully modded cyber psycho? Or some new war machine Arasaka or Militech cooked up?"
His fear was obvious, but the action of protecting his sister carried instinctive responsibility. His other hand had quietly reached for the only small-caliber pistol hidden at his lower back, though he knew full well this thing probably couldn't even scratch the other's paint.
Rebecca was equally terrified, throat dry, heart pounding like it would burst from her chest, but she still forced herself to quietly retort, more like bolstering her own courage: "At—at least he helped us take out those Maelstrom scum... looks more reliable than those bastards...
Plus that robe, tsk, pretty stylish, like some... super badass technician?"
She tried to find some element from this terrifying image that could put her at ease.
Cairo's gaze swept across the battlefield. Internal systems instantly completed efficiency assessment and resource consumption calculations—conclusions met expectations.
Data streams from the servo-skull confirmed cleanup complete and marked two low-threat life signals still lingering inside the workshop.
He walked toward the garage with steady, overwhelmingly oppressive steps, each one making the ground slightly tremble, like a moving red fortress.
Under the gaze of those crimson lenses, Rebecca and Pilar felt invisible pressure, unconsciously retreating until their heels hit scattered tools, making faint clanging sounds.
He stopped at the torn-open garage door, his massive frame nearly blocking the entire entrance.
A mechanical tentacle suddenly shot out like it possessed independent life, movement so fast it almost left afterimages, precisely inserting into the temporary barrier's weak seam.
With a teeth-grinding metallic groan and twisting sound, that heavy barrier Rebecca had desperately rammed without budging was easily twisted and torn down like a toy in a beast's grip, casually tossed aside onto empty ground with a heavy, piercing clang, raising a cloud of dust.
Light suddenly flooded in, completely illuminating the two people inside with nowhere to hide and pale faces, while also fully revealing Cairo's shocking form—approaching 2.3 meters tall, beneath the red robe a solid body combining machinery and unknown alloys, vaguely visible joint structures and energy conduits radiating inhuman power. Those metal tentacles slowly swaying at his sides like living things gleamed with merciless cold light.
The voice from beneath the face mask was processed—smooth and lacking normal human emotion, yet strangely not pure mechanical noise, carrying a kind of deep, direct indifference as if from long-term communication with machines rather than humans, plus an indescribable fatigue.
"Unauthorized entry into my workshop. State your reasons." His wording was concise and precise, carrying an engineer's displeasure at unexpected interference and forced production line halt, along with efficiency-first scrutiny, but not pure killing intent.
Rebecca's heart tightened at this interrogation-like tone. Rebelliousness overcame part of her fear as she blurted out: "Hey! Be reasonable! We were being chased and hid here! Who knew this godforsaken shithole still had people! Plus there's no 'Keep Out' sign at the door!"
The moment the words left her mouth she regretted it, palms sweating, fearing the next second those terrible tentacles would skewer her through.
Pilar quickly grabbed his sister, rushing to explain first, speech rapid and urgent, trying to show cooperative attitude: "Sir... Lord! We really mean no harm! We haul freight, accidentally pissed off Maelstrom, our vehicle broke down and we were forced to flee here!
We didn't take anything, really, we'll leave immediately! Absolutely won't delay you!"
He tried hard to make his words sound credible, even gesturing to their nearly empty bags and toolbox to show they posed no threat.
Cairo's crimson lenses carefully scanned over the two. Data streams rapidly scrolled in his field of vision, analyzing their body temperature, micro-expressions, muscle tension, cyberware models, and energy levels.
"Biological signal analysis: High stress response, low-level armament, no significant threat characteristics." That steady synthesized voice rang out again. He seemed to relax an imperceptible fraction of vigilance, but the efficiency-first attitude remained unchanged. "Identity. Origin. Purpose. Additionally, provide all valid intelligence regarding 'Night City' and surrounding areas. Information detail level will affect subsequent assessment."
A tentacle raised, steadily pointing at Pilar, indicating he should answer. The motion carried undeniable meaning, the precision sensor at the tentacle's tip even slightly adjusting focus.