Cyberpunk 2077 – Cyber Dogs

Maine's Dream 

He was running. 

No chrome weighing down his limbs. No searing pain in his skull, no buzzing whispers crawling behind his eyes. Just the wind kissing his bare skin, the sweet taste of clean air in his lungs, and the pounding rhythm of bare feet thudding on soft earth. 

He laughed—a real, unburdened laugh. Like a kid again. Because for once, he was a kid again. 

Young. Strong. Untouched. 

The forest stretched out around him like a living cathedral, sunbeams slicing through the thick canopy, turning leaves to molten gold. Birds chattered overhead, their calls pure and full of life. The scent of pine and damp earth filled his nostrils. 

He darted through thick underbrush, leaves brushing his arms like gentle whispers. For a moment, the weight of a thousand battles fell away. 

Then something shifted. 

Up ahead, standing still in the middle of the trail, was a shadow. 

He slowed—but only for a heartbeat—then pushed harder, faster, charging toward it like he had to prove something to the world. 

Branches cracked and snapped underfoot. 

The air grew colder, thick with foreboding. 

The light dimmed, shadows pooling beneath the trees like ink spilled on parchment. 

When he finally stopped, just feet away, he saw himself. 

Older. Bulkier. Arms of cold steel, veins glowing faintly with molten chrome. A face chiseled by war and regret, eyes hollowed by too many battles fought on too many fronts. 

The spark—the fire—was gone. 

Replaced with something darker. Something empty. 

The young Maine looked up at the man he was meant to become. 

"What the fuck happened to me?" he gasped, chest heaving, breath shallow. 

The older Maine said nothing. He just stared down, eyes heavy with guilt and warning. 

"You were supposed to be somebody," the younger said, voice cracking. "You were gonna change things. You had real dreams, man. Not this… this monster." 

"I know," the older Maine finally replied. Quiet. Raw. "I know." 

They stood together, two versions of the same soul caught in the same moment. 

Then the world shattered. 

Trees turned to static. The sky ripped open. 

The light died. 

Everything faded. 

Reality 

Maine gasped awake. 

The first thing his eyes landed on was 8 standing over him, arms crossed, face calm but amused. 

"Hey man, you've been out a while," 8 said flatly. "We had to downgrade you. Don't panic, but... we had to cut off your dick." 

Maine's face drained of color. The heart monitor beside him started beeping faster. His hands darted beneath the sheets—then froze. 

Still there. 

He shot 8 a glare sharp enough to cut. 

"Motherfucker, you trying to give me a heart attack!?" 

8 doubled over laughing—guttural, real laughter. 

Maine groaned, sinking back into the bed. "You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" 

"If you can get that pissed, you're probably gonna be fine," 8 said between chuckles. 

Maine rolled his eyes but a faint smirk tugged at his lips. 

Minutes passed in silence, the steady beep of the monitor grounding them. Then Maine's voice broke the quiet, low and hoarse. 

"What happened? Where the hell am I? And what's with this helmet?" 

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, eyes steady. 

"Alright. You went cyberpsycho. Full-on meltdown. Trauma Team's distress call went straight to MaxTac, so I knocked you out cold and Jackie dragged your heavy ass out of that shitshow." 

Maine winced, but it sounded about right. 

"We're at our hideout now—the CyberDogs' base. Med bay." 

He nodded slowly. 

"And the helmet?" 

Pointing to the rig strapped to his head, I explained, "It helps you deal with the psychosis. It's a BD system—a virtual forest, pure nature, peace and quiet. My friend built it custom for you." 

Maine let out a soft chuckle. "Never seen a healthy tree before... but that shit? Worked like a charm." 

We sat in silence. 

"How long was I out?" he asked finally. 

"About three weeks. Should've been two months. Either your will to live's insane... or this helmet's magic." 

Maine smirked. "I'll bet on your magic." 

"Yeah, you were just lying there dreaming, while I held shit together." 

He shook his head, grinning. "Thanks, man. I owe you." 

"But what about the others?" 

"They're fine. Everyone made it out alive." 

Relief washed over his face. 

"Dorio's pissed though. Waiting to beat the shit outta you." 

Maine's smile vanished. 

"Maybe we don't tell her I'm awake." 

"Too late. I already called your crew." 

He stared, wide-eyed. 

"When?!" 

"Mid-conversation." 

"What the hell? You trying to get me killed?!" 

I raised a hand casually. "Sorry, man. Dorio told me that the moment you woke up, I had to call her. Her exact words." 

"Fuuuuck!" Maine groaned, looking around like he was planning an escape route. 

"Come on, Maine," I said with a wicked grin. "Be a man. Take your punishment. You do kinda deserve it." 

About an hour later, the whole Edgerunner crew showed up. First thing they did? Question the hell outta our hideout. 

Pilar and Rebecca, of course, went snooping like they owned the place. They found the kitchen and didn't even hesitate—helped themselves to whatever food they could grab. I caught Dorio's eye—she gave me an apologetic look. I just shrugged and motioned for the two troublemakers to follow me. 

"Come on, you little gremlins," I muttered. 

They trailed behind as I led them to Maine. 

It was a hell of a reunion. Dorio walked up to him, didn't say a word—just slugged Maine right across the face. 

Then wrapped him in a crushing hug. 

The rest of the crew piled on, cracking jokes about his skinny frame, no chrome arms, how he looked like a regular schlub. Brutal but with love. 

Hours passed. 

Eventually, they left. I had to stop Pilar and Rebecca from pilfering gear—caught Rebecca trying to stash a grenade launcher. 

Now just me, Maine, and David. David sat near Gloria, still in a coma. 

Maine asked quietly, "MaxTac thinks I'm dead? How'd you pull that off?" 

I smirked. "Got my ways. Official report says KIA. Clean database. Nobody's coming after you." 

Maine nodded, gratitude mixed with exhaustion. 

"Thanks, 8. For saving me... and the crew." 

"No problem. But what now?" 

He sighed. "Honestly... I don't know. Could be the end of the road." 

"Sounds like something someone says before they fight like hell." 

He paused. "What do you do when you can't move forward?" 

"Then move sideways, backwards. Dig a tunnel. Strap on a jetpack. If it's blocked, call your friends and bring explosives. There's always a way." 

He smiled—a real, peaceful smile. 

Suddenly, David's voice broke through. 

"Mom?" 

I rushed over. Gloria was awake, eyes fluttering open, confused. 

"David… what happened? Where are we?" 

"It's okay. You're safe," David said, squeezing her hand. 

Her grip tightened, memories flooding back. 

"David… are you hurt?" 

"I'm okay," he said, hesitating. "But you were in a coma for almost a year. A lot's happened." 

Gloria looked at him with disbelief. "Wait… Arasaka Academy. You're still attending, right?" 

David scratched the back of his head. "Well… I got expelled. Couldn't pay the tuition. And when EMT found out you were in a coma, they fired you too." 

The heart monitor next to her started to spike. I felt a bad feeling rising fast, so I quietly began walking backward. 

But Gloria saw me. 

"And who is this person?" 

"That's 8," David said quickly. "He's the one who saved us. We're in their hideout right now." 

"Hideout?" Gloria repeated, eyes narrowing. 

I opened the system, flipping through tools fast. I needed an exit plan. 

"Who are they, David?" 

"Well…" He paused. "They're mercs. We call ourselves the Cyber Dogs." 

"We?" 

There it was. 

David scratched the back of his head, nervous. "I didn't have much of a choice. I needed money. So… I joined them. I'm a mercenary now." 

The heart monitor started rising again — fast. She stared at me. 

I didn't wait. 

Without hesitation, I raised my hand, revealing a small black ball. 

"Ninja vanish." 

I dropped it to the floor. 

Poof. A puff of smoke exploded, and I disappeared from the room. 

I fast-traveled straight to my apartment, slumped onto my couch, and sighed. My phone buzzed—David calling. 

I ignored it. 

"Screw that. I'll deal with this tomorrow. No way I'm getting pulled into that mess — maybe she'll yell at Maine. He's still there, after all." 

End of Chapter.