The moment the words "2077" appeared behind Ethan Reed, the livestream chat exploded.
"2077? Is this adapted from Cyberpunk: Edgerunners?"
"The graphics are insane! There's no way a domestic studio made this!"
"Can this even pass censorship? The trailer literally starts with cultural opera-style music!"
"They've been developing it for a year?! Since before Stardew Valley launched?"
"Did Northstar Games even have AAA money back then?!"
"Ethan Reed, please! Stop talking and release it already!"
On BiliZone, comments flew so fast that the screen became a blur. What kind of move was this?
Northstar Games had been quietly cooking something massive.
And now, they had just thrown the lid open.
Ethan stood calmly at the center of the stage. Behind him, the giant screen was frozen on a neon skyline — towering buildings, holographic billboards, rain-soaked streets glowing under electric light.
"A year ago," Ethan said steadily, "to be precise — before we released Stardew Valley and Animal Party — we were already developing this game."
A ripple passed through the audience.
"2077 carries the combined effort of everyone at Northstar Games. It has consumed an enormous amount of capital. And it is a project we intend to launch to the world."
He paused slightly.
"Allow me to be a little bold."
He lifted his head, eyes bright.
"2077 will become a phenomenon-level work. It will be a cross-era masterpiece."
The confidence in his voice was not arrogance. It was certainty.
This wasn't just a remake. It wasn't a simple adaptation. This was a rebuilt, reimagined version — expanded sandbox systems, altered story paths, hidden mechanics, deeper character arcs.
Ethan had personally reviewed the demo overseen by Daniel Reed.
His evaluation?
One word.
Awesome.
Yes, there were optimization issues. Yes, during internal testing there were frame drops in crowded districts. But optimization was something Ethan had emphasized from day one.
"I would rather reduce special effects," he had told Daniel, "than allow players to suffer lag."
At the top of Ethan's internal game design pyramid, one principle ruled above all:
Gameplay first.
Then optimization.
Then visuals, story, music.
If a game wasn't fun, nothing else mattered.
He looked at the crowd now — some people had already stood up unconsciously.
"Talking is meaningless," Ethan said with a faint smile. "So now… come with me. Enter Night City. See what the future looks like."
Backstage, Vivian Frost raised her hand.
The venue lights shut off instantly.
The livestream cut away from the stage.
The world plunged into black.
And then—
Night City came alive.
"Buddy, are you done yet?!"
A man in a leather jacket leaned behind cover, dual pistols in hand.
"Move! If you keep stalling, I'm gonna get shot!"
Gunfire echoed.
The camera shifted from first-person to third-person.
The audience saw V.
Buzz cut. Black jacket. Chrome facial slots embedded across his skin. Submachine gun raised.
Across the alley — graffiti-covered walls. Spider insignias.
Maelstrom.
Someone in the crowd shouted—
"That's Maelstrom!"
"Cyberpsycho!"
Fans of Cyberpunk: Edgerunners instantly recognized them.
But this wasn't anime.
It wasn't live action either.
It was in-engine.
And it looked real.
One Maelstrom ganger stepped forward. Bald head. Glowing red cybernetic eye. Lower jaw replaced with metal plating.
He lifted a rocket launcher.
"Die, you bastard!"
V muttered instinctively—
"Damn!"
Explosion.
Black screen.
"In 2077, the city I live in was voted the worst place in America."
A calm male voice narrated.
"Violent crime is rampant. Poverty is everywhere."
The screen lit up.
V stepped out of a crowded subway train. Electronic music pulsed.
Airships glided between skyscrapers.
Neon billboards flickered across the skyline.
A city like a metallic jungle.
"This is a fact."
Cut.
Homeless veterans glaring from sidewalks.
Corporate executives in glass offices discussing mergers.
"But people still rush here."
Cut.
A cowboy in a pool hall spinning a revolver.
A wealthy woman descending from a luxury AV.
A beautiful woman applying makeup—
Zoom in.
Half her face was synthetic.
"This city always gives you a sliver of hope."
"Whether it's real or an illusion…"
"It feels close enough to touch."
Fast cuts.
Gun deals.
Street racing.
Back-alley surgeries.
A fixer exchanging encrypted data shards.
V starting an old muscle car.
Engine roaring.
Music escalating.
Neon reflected in rainwater.
Then—
The title slashed across the screen like shattered glass:
CYBERPUNK
Below it:
Please Visit.
Silence.
Black screen.
Light returned.
V entered a bar.
The camera followed him to the counter.
Beside him sat a bandaged man, arm in a sling, laughing loudly.
"Hey, V! Heard you turned Night City upside down while I was out cold?"
V smirked.
"One Johnny Silverhand," he told the bartender.
The red-haired bartender leaned forward.
"You sure you don't want a drink named after yourself? You're the only living legend in Night City."
V laughed.
"I don't want the guy next to me getting jealous."
Beside him—
Jackie Welles shook his head dramatically.
"Brother, I almost died! No Jackie Welles in the next life, what a tragedy!"
V nudged him.
"What're you having? My treat."
Jackie grinned.
"Give me a David Martinez. Something fizzy. Doctor's orders."
The audience collectively inhaled.
David Martinez.
Another nod to Cyberpunk: Edgerunners.
The camera pulled back.
V and Jackie laughing.
Glasses clinking.
Neon lights flickering over chrome and sweat.
Fade out.
The venue lights slowly returned.
No one spoke.
Not immediately.
They had just seen a world.
Not a trailer.
A world.
Ethan walked back onto the stage.
He didn't shout.
He didn't exaggerate.
He simply asked—
"Are you satisfied with this world?"
Silence broke into thunderous applause.
He raised his hand slightly.
"2077 is Northstar Games' biggest project this year. I don't know if we can fully complete it before year-end."
A pause.
"But in March, we will release the first playable demo."
Gasps again.
"Players will personally step into Night City."
He smiled faintly.
"Perhaps this can make up for our lack of a second Edgerunners."
That line sent the crowd into cheers.
Ethan bowed.
"This concludes Northstar Games' offline game conference."
Applause shook the venue.
On BiliZone, the livestream chat had already broken viewership records.
Industry insiders were stunned.
A domestic studio.
Building a AAA open-world cyberpunk game.
With this scale.
With this confidence.
This wasn't just ambition.
It was declaration.
Backstage, Daniel Reed exhaled slowly.
His team had lived inside Night City for a year.
They had rebuilt districts.
Rewritten quest chains.
Expanded sandbox systems.
Integrated reactive NPC routines.
Added hidden menus and branching endings.
All while racing against budget limitations.
Tonight, for the first time, the world had seen it.
And the reaction?
Electric.
As Ethan stepped down from the stage, Vivian Frost handed him water.
"You set the bar high," she whispered.
Ethan gave a small laugh.
"If we don't believe in it," he said quietly, "who will?"
Outside the venue, media vans were already lining up.
Headlines began forming:
"Northstar Games Challenges Global AAA Market."
"Domestic Studio Enters Cyberpunk Battlefield."
"Is 2077 the Next Cross-Era Masterpiece?"
Ethan didn't read them.
He already knew one thing.
The real test wasn't applause.
It was March.
When players touched Night City themselves.
When they tested the shooting.
When they explored the back alleys.
When they tried to break the systems.
Only then would the truth appear.
He looked up at the night sky beyond the venue's glass walls.
Neon reflections flickered faintly in the city outside.
Night City was fictional.
But ambition wasn't.
And now—
The world was watching Northstar Games.
The nights in the Afghan mountains were brutally cold.
The wind howled through the ravine, carrying fine grains of sand that struck the rocks with a faint, crackling rhythm. From the cave entrance, a dim yellow glow seeped through the cracks of the iron door, stretching distorted shadows across the ground like something alive.
On the leeward side of a jagged rock, Emily crouched silently, her gaze fixed on the surveillance feed playing inside her mind.
She let out a quiet sigh.
It had already been two days since she tracked Tony Stark to this location.
And honestly—
It was worse than she expected.
Inside the cave, Tony relied on a crude electromagnet powered by a car battery to keep the shrapnel from reaching his heart. The air was damp, suffocating, and filled with the constant threat of infection. There were no proper medical supplies, no clean water, and barely any food.
Ethan's condition was even worse.
His cough had grown heavier by the day.
Every breath sounded strained.
And yet—
They kept working.
Hammering steel.
Welding armor.
Playing cards with nuts under dim light just to stay sane.
The winner got one extra sip of muddy water.
Emily watched all of this for two days.
And in the end—
She couldn't just sit still anymore.
She had come here determined to be only an observer.
To not interfere.
To let the story unfold naturally.
But watching two men struggle at the edge of death without even basic medicine…
Her sense of "non-interference" finally cracked.
"Just some medicine… and maybe a little Coke," she muttered quietly.
"That won't change the plot… right?"
With that excuse, she made her decision.
---
Explorer II moved the moment her command was issued.
Invisible.
Silent.
Untraceable.
From the shadows deep within the cave, the stealth unit slipped forward and gently placed a small box in the corner where Tony and Ethan rested.
Inside it—
Broad-spectrum antibiotics.
Sterile gauze.
And two bottles of ice-cold cola, still covered in frost.
Then, just as quickly, Explorer II vanished back into darkness.
No sound.
No trace.
Nothing.
---
Inside the cave, Tony and Ethan froze.
They had been playing cards.
Now both of them were on their feet instantly.
Tony grabbed a wrench.
Ethan picked up a metal file.
They approached the corner slowly.
"What… is this?" Ethan whispered, picking up the medicine box.
He read the label.
"Antibiotics… gauze… How did this get here?"
Tony picked up a cola bottle.
The cold hit his fingers instantly.
He stared at the frost on the surface.
In a cave where even electricity came from a car battery…
An ice-cold drink was impossible.
He opened it.
Hiss—
The sound echoed loudly in the confined space.
Bubbles surged upward.
Tony and Ethan exchanged a look.
Confusion.
Shock.
Suspicion.
"Maybe one of the guards?" Ethan suggested uncertainly.
Tony shook his head slowly.
"Even if this is some kind of trick…" he said, taking a long sip, "this Coke is way too real."
The cold sweetness hit his throat.
For a brief moment—
The exhaustion disappeared.
He exhaled sharply.
"Damn… this tastes better than anything back in New York."
In the end, they drank the cola.
And they kept the medicine.
Ethan took one pill that night.
The next day—
His cough was noticeably better.
---
Over the following two days, the "miracles" continued.
Energy bars.
Clean water.
Chocolate.
Always placed in the same corner.
Always unseen.
Always silent.
At first, Tony and Ethan were cautious.
Then curious.
Then—
They accepted it.
They even started looking forward to it.
After finishing their work each day, they would glance at the corner to see what had appeared.
Eventually, they gave their invisible benefactor a name.
"The Santa Claus in the Cave."
Sometimes they even bet with nuts, guessing what "Santa" would bring next.
---
On the mountain ridge, Emily watched everything.
She couldn't help but smile.
She lifted her own bottle of cola and tilted it toward the cave in a silent toast.
---
Time passed quickly.
The day of Tony's escape arrived.
And the atmosphere in the ravine changed.
The guards doubled.
Weapons were loaded.
Extra locks were placed on the cave door.
The Ten Rings leader had issued an ultimatum—
One day.
Finish the Jericho missile.
Or die.
Everyone knew what that meant.
Blood would be spilled here.
---
Inside the cave, Tony and Ethan worked calmly.
Almost too calmly.
Ethan checked the electromagnet in Tony's chest one last time.
Battery—fully charged.
Operational time—just enough.
Tony stood in the crude Mark I armor.
Heavy.
Bulky.
Primitive.
But his eyes—
His eyes burned.
There was no fear left.
Only determination.
"Wait for the countdown," Ethan said quietly. "Then activate it."
His hands trembled.
But his voice didn't.
"I'll go to the control room. Buy you time."
Tony frowned immediately.
"No. We leave together."
Ethan smiled.
Soft.
Calm.
Resolute.
"If I don't go… you won't make it out."
He looked directly at Tony.
"Don't waste your life."
---
Watching this scene, Emily's fingers tightened slightly.
She knew what came next.
Ethan would sacrifice himself.
Tony would escape alone.
That was how the story had always gone.
But—
Not every story needed to stay unchanged.
Not every tragedy needed to happen exactly the same way.
Emily closed her eyes slowly.
Then—
She stood.
---
"Rigging Materialization Program Initiated."
"Mind Cube Synchronization Complete."
"Energy Core Ready."
"Quantum Link Active."
---
A pale blue light exploded into existence behind her.
A massive, translucent, jellyfish-like core unfolded in the air.
It shimmered like something from the deep ocean—beautiful, alien, and terrifying.
The Antix insignia glowed faintly at its center.
From beneath it, glowing tendrils of blue energy drifted like a flowing galaxy.
On both sides, black armored cannons deployed silently.
Energy gathered at their tips—
Stable.
Controlled.
Absolute.
---
Emily rose into the air.
Slowly.
Effortlessly.
She sat atop the edge of the core, her legs swinging lightly as if seated on a throne.
The storm of sand below could not touch her.
The wind parted around her.
From a height of over a hundred meters, the entire ravine lay open before her.
Every guard.
Every weapon.
Every movement.
Even the internal status of Tony's armor—
All of it was clear.
---
At this moment—
She was no longer just a high school student.
She was Observer Zero.
A being standing above the battlefield.
---
"Finally…" Emily muttered, glancing at the cave.
"I don't have to watch them play cards with nuts anymore. I was getting tired of that."
She looked at her rigging, then smirked slightly.
"…I look kind of amazing right now."
She tilted her head thoughtfully.
"Should've made a camera. This moment deserves a picture."
---
Then—
A voice spoke beside her.
Soft.
Gentle.
Amused.
"It is quite impressive… and very interesting."
Emily froze.
Completely.
Her smile didn't even have time to fade.
Her legs stopped mid-swing.
Her entire body locked in place.
Her Fire Control Radar covered kilometers.
Nothing had appeared.
No energy spike.
No movement.
No sound.
Nothing.
---
Slowly—
Very slowly—
She turned her head.
---
Beside her, floating effortlessly in the air—
Was a bald woman in golden robes.
Holding a fan.
Calm.
Smiling.
Her presence felt… endless.
Her gaze—
Saw everything.
The Ancient One.
The Sorcerer Supreme.
Guardian of Earth.
A being who could see timelines.
Dimensions.
Possibilities.
---
Emily's mind went blank.
One thought looped endlessly—
I'm finished.
---
How had she forgotten?
How could she forget someone like this existed?
A being who could observe timelines just like her—
Maybe even more.
She had been running around Afghanistan, deploying advanced tech, bending rules—
And now she had activated her full rigging—
Right in front of her.
Even worse—
She had just been thinking about taking a selfie.
Emily forced a stiff smile.
Her instincts screamed at her to run.
But she knew—
Running was useless.
Even space jumps might not guarantee escape.
She cleared her throat.
"…Sorcerer Supreme," she said carefully. "What brings you here?"
The Ancient One gently waved her fan.
Her eyes moved from the glowing rigging to Emily herself.
No hostility.
Only curiosity.
"I am the guardian of this world," she said calmly. "Naturally, I pay attention to variables that do not belong here."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"Especially one like you… who carries power from another dimension."
She smiled faintly.
"I have been observing you for quite some time, Miss Observer."
Cold sweat ran down Emily's back.
She knew it.
From the beginning—
She had never truly been hidden.
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