David was the first to break the silence.
"Wait, Johnny Silverhand's dead, right? Like, nuked-to-ashes dead. So how the hell is he standing right here?"
Maine shook his head slowly, still staring at the place where Johnny's hologram had vanished. "I… honestly got nothin'. This one's beyond me."
Dorio crossed her arms. "I think we all wanna know, boss."
"Yeah," Pilar added, twirling his chrome fingers. "Add me to that list."
Neo sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You guys and your curiosity… Alright, one answer, covers it all."
He leaned against a rusted table, his voice dropping low, deliberate.
"Johnny did die. Back in 2023, during the nuclear strike on Arasaka Tower. Adam Smasher put him down. For good."
Everyone was quiet now—really listening. Even Rebecca stopped fidgeting.
"But what you just saw," Neo continued, "wasn't a ghost in the religious sense. It's what's left of him—a digital construct. His soul, if you wanna call it that, turned into data. A 'soul-data construct.'"
Lucy's eyes flickered faintly. "That's… the Relic project."
Neo nodded. "Exactly. Arasaka's pet project. The dream of immortality through technology."
He looked out the broken window toward the horizon, the setting sun staining his reflection crimson. "The Relic was designed to copy a person's entire consciousness—their memories, personality, everything—turn it into code and upload it to the Net. Later, that data could be transferred into another living brain using a neural chip."
Rebecca blinked. "You mean… possession?"
"Yeah," Neo said simply. "Digital reincarnation, corpo-style. The chip rewrites the host's neural patterns until the original consciousness is gone. Only the uploaded one remains."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "Arasaka wanted to sell it to the rich and powerful. Eternal life—for those who could pay."
Jackie let out a long whistle. "So that's why the relic chip job was so damn shady. Makes sense now. Dex didn't give us the whole picture."
Neo nodded slightly. "He couldn't. That chip we stole—it wasn't just data. It was him. Johnny Silverhand himself, the prototype test subject. Arasaka's first real success in digital immortality."
Rebecca blinked, stunned. "So you're saying… the relic was carrying his soul?"
"Exactly."
Even Maine looked uneasy. "You're telling me the corpo suits spent fifty years perfecting a way to play god—and they used that guy as the test dummy?"
Neo smiled faintly. "Yeah. The irony's delicious."
Lucy crossed her arms, voice tight. "You kept all this from me."
Neo shrugged. "Wasn't much to tell until now."
Panam exhaled slowly, shaking her head. "I thought I'd seen crazy before. Guess I was wrong."
"Same," Dorio muttered.
Pilar raised his hand weakly. "Yeah, I didn't understand half of that, but I feel appropriately terrified."
Neo clapped his hands once. "Alright, enough history class. We'll unpack it later. For now—get back to prep. Everyone has a job to do."
The team scattered back to their tasks. The ghost town of Rocky Ridge buzzed with low, purposeful motion.
...
Minutes later, Johnny's digital form flickered back into being beside Neo, arms crossed, smirk already in place.
"You're insane, you know that?" he said. "You're risking a full-scale firefight with a psycho gang… for a girl. Worth it?"
Neo didn't even look at him. "You act like it's the first gang I've erased. Remember the Maelstrom?"
Johnny barked a laugh. "You wiped out the Maelstrom?"
"Every last one of them," Neo replied. "Nightwalkers are just next on the list."
Johnny whistled. "All that over a chick. You're either the biggest romantic alive or the dumbest bastard I've ever met."
Neo smirked. "Please. Don't project. You're just mad your mouth was always louder than your aim. You couldn't even finish the job with Smasher. I did."
Johnny froze mid-sentence. "…You really know how to kick a guy when he's already code."
Neo chuckled. "Let's talk business. I didn't pull you out just to banter."
Johnny's smirk returned. "Yeah, I figured. You're not the sentimental type. So what's the real play?"
Neo's tone turned sharp again. "I'm looking for someone—Anders Hellman. He was one of the key designers on the Relic project. The one who handled its earliest phase."
Johnny's expression darkened immediately. "Hellman, huh? I remember him. Corporate lab rat. He monitored my construct for months—ran signal wave tests to keep me stable inside the Relic. We talked a few times."
Neo's brow lifted. "Talked?"
Johnny's voice dropped. "He used encrypted code bursts to communicate. Smart bastard. If anyone knows how to dismantle the Relic safely, it's him. But good luck finding the guy—Arasaka's not stupid. When he left the company, every megacorp from here to Tokyo wanted a piece of him. They'd bury him deep."
Neo nodded, thoughtful. "I figured. But hard-to-find doesn't mean impossible. Everything leaves a trace."
Johnny tilted his head. "You really think you can pull it off?"
Neo's grin was razor-sharp. "I always do."
There was a pause—an unspoken understanding between two men who had both fought Arasaka in different lifetimes.
Finally, Johnny said quietly, "You're a real piece of work, you know that? Fine. I'll help you. But when this is over… I want something."
Neo glanced at him. "What?"
Johnny's voice softened, a rare flicker of nostalgia threading through the digital rasp.
"I wanna see her. One last time."
Neo raised a brow. "Rogue."
Johnny's smirk faltered into something almost human. "Yeah. Rogue."
Neo smiled. "Then it's a deal. She's alive—running Afterlife. Queen of the underworld, still as sharp as ever."
Johnny blinked, almost disbelieving. "She made it…?"
"More than made it," Neo said. "She owns Night City's merc scene. You'll see her soon enough."
For once, Johnny didn't have a comeback.
He just nodded, his expression unreadable as static flickered across his face. "Alright, choom. Guess I'll hold you to that."
...
By the time they finished, night had fallen.
The first streetlights of Rocky Ridge sputtered to life—one, then another, then another—filling the ghost town with an eerie, golden glow.
Power lines hummed. Windows flickered awake after decades of silence.
And from the hills beyond, engines began to roar to life.
The Nightwalkers had seen the lights.
Neo rested his hand on the katana's hilt, the faint hum of energy vibrating under his palm.
"Showtime," he murmured.
And somewhere deep in the network, Johnny Silverhand's voice echoed through the comms—half laughter, half snarl.
"Alright, kids. Let's make some noise."