Cyberpunk: STRAY

Luxor Heights, Dogtown

Melissa lit a cigarette as she leaned against the rusted railing of the rooftop, looking down at the streets below. The echoes of Dogtown's usual chaos rippled through the alleys—gunfire in the distance, a fight spilling out of a bar, a stolen car speeding down the street, barely dodging a group of scavengers looking for their next payday.

She had seen it all before.

But tonight, her focus was elsewhere.

Jago was dead. Chester had taken over, and while some might've seen that as the end of a story, Melissa knew better.

Jago wasn't just some disposable street rat. He had ties—deep ones. And those ties weren't going to take his death lightly.

The thing about people in Night City? They didn't believe in accidents. If you died, someone killed you. And someone had to pay.

Her sources had been whispering about movements in the city's underbelly. Former associates of Jago, people who had a vested interest in keeping their power secure, were already poking around. Asking the right questions to the wrong people.

It wouldn't be long before they landed on Vincent's name.

She exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching as the ember at the tip of her cigarette burned in the darkness.

Vincent had been careful. Smart. But even the smartest made mistakes. He thought he could play the long game, keep himself three steps ahead.

But the thing about being ahead?

It made you a target.

Melissa crushed the cigarette under her boot, turning on her heel and walking back inside. She had a lead. A name. Something to work with.

And if she was right?

Vincent's time was running out.

Corpo Plaza, Night City – Aurore Cassel's Residence

The sound of her holo ringing snapped Aurore out of her thoughts. She had barely slept. She wasn't sure if she even could anymore.

Aymeric's bracelet was still wrapped around her wrist, a cold reminder of the past she couldn't outrun.

She sighed, picking up the holo.

"Who is it?" she asked, voice sharp as ever, despite the exhaustion creeping in.

"Melissa."

Aurore's grip tightened slightly.

"What do you want?"

Melissa's voice was calm, collected. "We need to talk about the kid you were with, named Vincent.. Ring a bell?"

Aurore felt something twist in her chest, but she kept her tone neutral. "I told you, I'm out. I don't have anything to do with whatever mess he's made."

Melissa chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah, well. Doesn't matter what you want, because his mess is about to become your problem too."

Silence.

"Go on," Aurore finally said, leaning back in her chair.

"Jago's people are sniffing around. They're looking for who took him out. And Vincent? He left just enough breadcrumbs for them to start putting the pieces together."

Aurore exhaled slowly. "Then he needs to handle it."

"He will. But here's the thing." Melissa paused. "They're not just looking for him. They're looking for anyone he's been working with. Anyone who might've had a hand in it."

Aurore's eyes narrowed. "You're saying they might come after me?"

"I'm saying it's a possibility. Especially if they find out about that little altercation with the merc you and Vincent had at Nighthawks Stadium."

Aurore's fingers drummed against the desk. "V."

Melissa hummed. "That's the one. Some of Jago's people have been asking questions about what happened with her a month ago. It's only a matter of time before someone connects the dots."

Aurore clenched her jaw. This was exactly why she had walked away. Vincent had always been playing with fire, and now the flames were spreading.

"You have a plan?" she asked.

"I have leads. Vincent's gonna need to move fast if he wants to stay ahead of this. And you?" Melissa's tone sharpened. "You need to decide whether you're gonna sit this one out or get involved before it's too late."

Aurore closed her eyes for a moment. She had told herself she was done. That whatever happened to Vincent was his problem, not hers.

But if they were coming for her too?

She couldn't afford to be passive.

She opened her eyes. "Keep me updated. I'll handle my end."

Melissa exhaled through the holo. "Good. I'll be in touch."

The call ended, leaving Aurore alone with the city lights flickering through the window.

She reached for the half-finished glass of wine, then stopped.

Instead, she turned away, heading for her closet.

It was time to prepare for war.

Jig-Jig Street – Vincent's Apartment

Vincent sat at his desk, scrolling through the latest chatter on the dark net. He wasn't panicking—not yet—but the tension in his shoulders told him he was close.

He had known there would be consequences for Jago's death. He had planned for it.

But no plan was perfect.

His holo buzzed. Private channel.

Vincent answered. "Talk."

"We got a problem," Melissa's voice came through, low and serious. "Jago's people are moving faster than I expected. Word is they've already locked onto your last location."

Vincent swore under his breath. "How long do I have?"

"Maybe a day. Two if you're lucky."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "And Aurore?"

"She's aware. Doesn't mean she's happy about it."

Vincent sighed. "She never is."

"What's your play?" Melissa asked.

Vincent's mind raced. He had options, but none of them were good.

"I disappear for a while. Lay low. Let the heat die down."

Melissa snorted. "Yeah, because that's worked so well for you before."

Vincent smirked despite himself. "Got a better idea?"

Melissa hesitated. "Yeah. But you're not gonna like it."

Vincent leaned forward. "Try me."

"You need to hit first. Before they have the chance to lock onto you."

He was silent for a moment, considering it. It wasn't his style. He preferred to move unseen, untouched. Striking first meant exposing himself.

But maybe this time, he didn't have a choice.

"Alright," Vincent said. "Tell me where to start."

"Meet me, Afterlife(a legendary bar in little China) in 20, don't be late" she hung up.

Vincent sat up, grabbed his jacket and his backpack, took the metro there..

Melissa leaned back against the bar as he wandered in, watching him with a mix of amusement and satisfaction.

"Well, would you look at that little face..." Melissa gave him a smirk.. "See, most sewer rats who run errands for folks like Aurore don't ask questions, don't make themselves memorable. You? You were too careful. That made you stick out. Vincent..."

Vincent exhaled slowly, measuring his response. He had been careful, damn careful, but even careful wasn't perfect. Melissa wasn't a netrunner; she hadn't cracked some buried archive. She'd just observed, listened, and put the puzzle together piece by piece. A FIA detective with sharp instincts and an even sharper tongue.

"So what now?" he finally asked.

Melissa chuckled. "Depends. You gonna keep pretending you're nobody? Or are you finally gonna tell me what you're really doing in Night City?"

Vincent's pulse quickened. The name shouldn't have meant anything to her—he had made sure of that. His digital footprint was practically nonexistent. No government records, no street cred, nothing. So how the hell did she—

"You looks like you just chugged a bad batch of smash," Melissa quipped, tilting her head. "Relax. It ain't like I ran a deep-dive corpo-level background check. Just put some pieces together."

Vincent forced himself to stay composed, but he knew the mask had cracked. "What pieces?

She drummed her fingers against the counter, taking her time before continuing. "You don't talk like a street kid. You're too polished, too precise. Plus, that slightt small accent—ain't Night City. Ain't even Pacifica. Southeast Asia maybe? That narrows it down. You got no cyberware, which means either you got religious reasons, or you're trying to keep a low profile. And you're young—real young. Too young to be playing in this city without some serious backup. But I couldn't find any signs you got a crew. So that means you're alone."

"Cut to the chase and proceed the fuck on with whatever rhetorical thing you're trying to imply for shit sake" Vincent was impatient and anxious already...

She smirked at his silence. "Relax... hear me out first, So I start asking around. Not about you specifically—just in general. Who's been making runs for Aurore lately? Who's new in town, flying under the radar? Didn't take long to find out some kid's been taking odd jobs but keeping his head down. No aliases, no flashy rep, just efficiency. That meant I had to look somewhere else."

Vincent crossed his arms. "Where?"

Melissa tapped her temple. "Memory. See, I used to work logistics before this gig. Faces, patterns, habits—they stick with me. And yours? Familiar. Dug through some old smuggler routes, cross-referenced some old street chatter about a kid who turned up in the city with no past, no records. Not a runaway, not a corpo experiment—just... a ghost."

Her eyes narrowed. "And ghosts? They always have a story. Mr Saw Vincent?"

Vincent felt his stomach twist at the mention of his name. He had been so careful—no implants, no records, no paper trail. Yet here Melissa stood, smirking, knowing exactly who he was. His mind raced, trying to piece together how she could have dug him up.

Melissa read his silence as disbelief and chuckled. "Come on, kid. You think you're invisible? Nobody's truly off the grid. It just takes the right pair of eyes."

Vincent clenched his fists. "How?"

Melissa tilted her head. "Observant people talk. Little things add up. A kid with no implants but somehow keeps up in a city that eats people alive? You do business like a pro, but you never leave a trace. That's not something an average street rat pulls off. I asked around, cross-checked a few stories—nothing direct, of course. But every fixer, hustler, and barfly remembers that odd, well-spoken kid who runs errands but never gets his hands dirty. After that, I just had to wait and watch. When you showed up tonight, I knew I had you."

Vincent felt cold sweat trickle down his back. He thought he'd been careful, but Melissa had connected the dots with nothing more than street chatter and keen intuition. It was impressive. And dangerous.

Melissa leaned in, voice dropping to something sharper, more predatory. "Now that we've cleared that up, let's talk biz. You're going to tell me how to find Songbird."

Vincent's face didn't betray anything, but inside, he felt a storm brewing. "Never heard of her."

Melissa sighed, shaking her head. "Cute. But here's the thing, Vincent—I'm not in the mood for games. I don't have time to dig through the muck for scraps, and V is out of the picture. That leaves you. And trust me, you don't want me getting impatient."

She reached into her jacket, and for a moment, Vincent tensed, expecting a gun. But instead, she pulled out a holo-display and flicked it on. A blurry security cam feed from a few weeks ago played—a shot of Vincent walking past a Dogtown checkpoint. Just a fleeting glimpse, but enough to place him there.

"You were there. Right place, right time. Someone like you doesn't stumble into Dogtown without a reason. So, last chance—where is Songbird?"

Vincent took a slow breath. He knew how this worked. If Melissa didn't get what she wanted soon, she'd escalate. He needed to stay ahead, stall, figure a way out before she decided he was disposable.....