It was funny how life worked. Two stories—similar beginnings, opposite endings.
Panam Palmer had offered trust and friendship once, only to have it repaid in betrayal and theft. Her truck and cargo were gone, her reputation cracked, and the dream of standing on her own after leaving the Aldecaldos felt like sand slipping through her fingers.
Meanwhile, Neo and Jackie Welles—two strangers who'd met on a messy job—had come out of it as brothers who could watch each other's backs without a word.
The difference between people, Panam thought, was sometimes the difference between a knife in your ribs and a hand pulling you up.
...
"It's not the end of the world," Neo said, "Debt has a face. Revenge has a name. The Wraiths stole from you, right? So we just take it back."
Panam gave a bitter laugh. "You make it sound simple. I've thought about hitting them a hundred times, but I'm one person. No crew, no backup, no family anymore. I walk into Wraith territory alone, I don't come back out. Maybe not even in a body bag."
She sighed, forcing the frustration down. "Forget that for now. Let's focus on your hunt. I know these lands well enough—I can help you track your guy."
Neo shook his head. "Hellman can wait. He's not going anywhere. Your problem's more immediate."
He smirked faintly. "It's just the Wraiths, right? Then we wipe them out."
Jackie let out a low whistle. "Now we're talking, hermano. You sure know how to light a fire."
Neo turned toward him. "Go back to Night City. Rally the crew. Tell them to stretch their legs—we're about to make a mess."
Jackie grinned. "Would you believe it, Maine was just telling that everyone's been bored outta their skulls lately. No gigs, no gunfire, just sitting around the base like pensioners. This'll perk 'em right up. Especially Maine—he loves a good excuse to go loud."
Neo chuckled. "Maine's not the only one. I'm betting Rebecca's been climbing the walls, too."
Jackie barked a laugh. "You got that right. If I don't bring her something to shoot soon, she'll start taking potshots at the damn ceiling. I'll go tell them to suit up. Drop me your location when it's go time."
With that, he revved up his bike and tore off into the moonlight, leaving dust and engine thunder behind.
...
Panam watched him go, her expression softening. "You and your crew... you've got a hell of a thing going," she said quietly. "You talk like family. You make decisions like it's nothing—no arguing, no second-guessing. Just trust."
Neo gave a half-smile. "Well, that's the perk of being the boss. I say it, they do it. No debates, no paperwork."
She rolled her eyes, amused despite herself. "Must be nice having people who listen."
...
By the time Jackie hit Night City's outskirts, Neo and Panam were already heading toward the Aldecaldos' camp—her old home.
She had explained it on the way. Leaving the Aldecaldos hadn't been a bitter exile. There'd been no blood, no betrayal—just friction. A clash of ideals with Saul, the clan leader.
"He thinks too small," Panam had said, voice quiet as the desert wind. "Always waiting, always compromising. I wanted to build something real, my way. Guess that made me the problem."
Neo had listened without judgment, only a quiet hum of acknowledgment.
Now, as the sun began to dip behind the shattered horizon, the Aldecaldo camp came into view—rows of tents, modified rigs, and flickering bonfire light cutting through the dusk.
They rolled to a stop at the edge of camp. Two figures were waiting.
Scorpion and Mitch—her old comrades—stood with arms crossed, silhouettes etched against the firelight.
Scorpion was the first to speak, his sharp gaze instantly catching the gleam of Neo's high-end bike. "Well, damn. What wind blows a big shot like you back here, Panam?"
Mitch grinned wide, brushing dust from his jacket. "Holy hell. Either I'm still drunk, or I'm looking at a ghost."
Panam smirked. "You're not drunk enough for that."
Then she punched each of them in the shoulder, hard enough to make them grunt. "And for the record, go fuck yourselves. It's nice to see you too."
They laughed, old tension melting into easy camaraderie.
Scorpion's eyes shifted to Neo, sizing him up. "And who's the pretty boy? Don't tell me you finally brought a boyfriend home. You never used to introduce anyone to the family."
Panam's eyebrow twitched. "Keep talking, Scorp, and I'll test-fire my revolver down your throat. Powder burns might do wonders for your breath."
Mitch snorted. "Still charming as ever."
Panam exhaled and gestured toward Neo. "This is Neo. We met at the Battle Run. After the race, some Wraith scum thought it'd be fun to tail me. If he hadn't shown up when he did, you two would be lighting candles for me right now."
At that, Scorpion and Mitch both sobered. Their teasing expressions hardened into concern.
Scorpion frowned. "You joined the Battle Run? That thing's a meat grinder, Panam! Why the hell would you risk that?"
Mitch shot him a look. "Because she's got guts, you idiot. Or maybe trouble. I'm guessing the second. What happened?"
Panam waved them off, a little defensive. "Don't start with the lectures. I'm not here to cry about it. I came to grab some gear I left behind—and to talk to Saul."
Scorpion tilted his head. "About?"
Panam's eyes flicked toward Neo. "About Wraiths. And payback."
The camp fell silent for a moment. Even the desert wind seemed to pause.
Scorpion and Mitch exchanged glances, then looked at Neo again—longer this time. The way Panam stood beside him, the quiet weight he carried, the faint gleam of steel at his hip.
Mitch finally spoke, low and serious. "If Saul hears you're planning to go after the Wraiths again, he'll lose it."
Panam smirked, all fire and defiance. "Good thing I stopped asking Saul for permission a long time ago."
Neo chuckled softly under his breath. "Sounds like we're going to get along just fine."
Scorpion cracked a grin. "Oh, this is gonna be good."
And just like that, the quiet camp buzzed with new energy—half anticipation, half unease.
Because everyone in the Aldecaldos knew one thing about Panam Palmer:
When she came back with a stranger at her side, it meant trouble was coming.
And this time, that trouble had a name.
The Wraiths.