Chapter Text
Normal text → Narration
"Text" → Speech
TEXT! → Noise
Text → Inhuman
Text → Emphasis
‘Text.’ → Thoughts or Air Quotes
[Text] → In-story reading (Signs, screens, or documents)
David Martinez hated going to Arasaka Academy. For most of his life, all he wanted was to be an Edgerunner, to live fast and die hard. But as long as he was stuck here, he would at least try. For his mother.
And he did. He worked hard, and he actually managed to outrank most of his class.
Take that, Corpo brats!
The only one he wasn't able to surpass, in terms of both performance and tests, wasn't a Corpo brat at all. In fact, from what David heard, he wasn’t anyone’s brat.
David had just finished class and made some eddies selling XBDs immediately after. As he walked across the hall, his eye caught his biggest rival in the academy.
The boy wore the same uniform David did, had short brown hair, a medium complexion, and no cosmetic modifications. Even his hair looked natural. His most notable feature was the eyepatch over his right eye.
Mortimer Smith: the smartest student in Arasaka Academy.
No one knew exactly where he came from. Rumor had it that he just popped out of nowhere and offered Arasaka a mountain of eddies just to enroll. He was also the youngest student in the building… and the shortest. While everyone else was at least sixteen and stood over 5’5, this guy was only fifteen and, as David assumed, barely 5’1.
Now, normally, one would assume he was just a spineless wimp who got lucky, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Smith was a genius, that much, David could admit. Every test, exam, and pop quiz, he managed to ace seemingly effortlessly.
"Hey, David."
David turned around and was greeted by his only friend in this hellhole.
"Hey, Jessica."
Jessica Herpson was the exception to his bias against corporate kids. She was nice, and she was the only one who didn’t judge him for his upbringing.
"Staring at Mortimer again?" Jessica asked with a sly smirk. "You know you could just go and ask him out, right?"
"What?" David could have sworn his neck cracked from the speed at which he turned it. "Ew! No! I’m straight!"
"Could have fooled me," she teased.
"Seriously, I watch graphic BDs of being fucked by women every day before school!"
Probably shouldn’t have said that.
A couple of girls near the two took a glance at him and immediately left with very judgmental looks. The entire city was filled with ads about MILFs and Mr. Studd upgrades, and this was where they crossed the line?!
“I’m not the problem! She assumed I was gay! Isn’t that super offensive nowadays?!” David tried to defend himself, but the girls were not listening. “This girl assumed my sexuality! She needs to be cancelled!”
“Asshole.” Jessica laughed and harmlessly punched his arm. She looked toward the retreating girls and shouted, “Don’t listen to him! He’s just a white guy who thinks women are a problem!”
“You racist bitch, I’m Hispanic!”
“Shut up!” a walking student, annoyed by the two’s banter, exclaimed, making the two friends snicker.
He liked hanging out with her. He almost felt guilty for being discriminatory towards corpos, but they were rich, so it was okay.
David looked back at Mortimer, who sat on the floor, leaning against a plain wall as he tinkered with a device David had never seen before.
“What do you think he’s working on?” he asked Jessica, who also seemed curious about what the smartest student in the academy was doing.
“I don’t know, but I know what he’s going to do next.” She pointed to the right and… oh, this was going to be nova.
Katsuo Tanaka and his two back-up dancers were approaching Mortimer Smith.
Again.
David and Katsuo had been thorns in each other's sides during their first few weeks in the academy. One was a rich but idiotic asshole, and the other was a poor but smart street rat. Why they were at odds was simpler than the plot of Peppa Pig.
The show was still running, weirdly enough.
Anyway, when Smith transferred a few months ago, Katsuo tried his usual ‘Alpha Male’ bravado to intimidate the new kid. It didn’t work. It just led to the new kid outing his chrome-plated ass as an XBD addict who focused on butt-fucking corpses. It was both the greatest and grossest thing to ever spread across, not just the school, but the entire goddamn tower.
Smith earned David’s respect that day.
“Hey, Smith!” Katsuo called out as he and his goons got closer.
Smith ignored them, though.
“I still owe you for that slander.” Still nothing.
Man, Smith must either be really into what he was doing, or he’s really good at blanking out Katsuo.
Oh, how David wished to have that power.
“Motherfucker, I’m talking to you!” Katsuo damn-near yelled, which caught the attention of the surrounding students who didn’t notice his approach to Smith.
Everyone knew Mortimer Smith. Anyone who messed with him, student, teacher, or executive, faced consequences.
A student got their browser history leaked, a teacher their criminal record, and an executive their shady dealings. No one was safe from him unless he was just left alone.
But some leadheads are too much of what they are to learn their lessons.
“And, motherfucker, I’m ignoring you.” Smith sassed, not even taking a glance at Katsuo.
“You’re going to pay for what you did, Smith. I’ll make sure you’re never coming here again.” Katsuo threatened.
“You said that fourteen times in the last fifteen days.”
Katsuo had been suspended by his dad’s orders for some time to save face, but he was back now, and clearly hadn't learned a thing.
“And I’m still here," Smith continued. "Want to call your dad to help? I’m sure he’d have better luck than you.”
“Maybe I will!”
“Good, do it. Be the daddy’s boy everyone says you are.”
Smith wasn’t wrong. Whenever Tanaka faced an issue, he always bragged about how his dad would take care of it.
“Fine—” Katsuo cut himself off. “Wait, everybody?”
“Yeah.”
“Like everybody-everybody?” He double-checked. “Even Jessica?”
“Yes!” Jessica spoke aloud. “Everyone!”
“Wha-” He turned to his lackeys. “Even you two?”
His two bootlickers looked away, hands behind their necks.
‘Yeesh, at least they're honest enough not to pretend.’ David thought to himself. Cringing only a little bit.
“I- you- I AM NOT A DADDY’S BOY!” Katsuo screamed. “You, me, today, Memorial Park, 5 o’clock sharp. Let’s get lacey.”
“You, me, never, respective homes, in-your-dreams:30. Fuck off.”
“How dare you, you nameless punk!”
Katsuo’s face turned a shade of red that almost matched the picture I’ve seen during the time of red. He looked like he was about to blow a fuse.
“Be there, or you’ll be known as a yellow-bellied coward.”
“If I’m a coward, that makes you the brainless bull chasing red.”
David was taking notes.
“Just be there!”
“No.”
Mortimer didn't even look up from his device. The sound of the mystery tech snapping into place was louder than Katsuo’s desperate threats.
Katsuo huffed and turned away, his ‘blowjob squad’ following close behind.
At the same time, Smith stood up and walked in the opposite direction.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Jessica asked.
“Follow Smith and see if he’d accept the ‘vite from Katsuo?”
“I was thinking of getting some Buck-A-Slice, but yours is more interesting.”
The two of them began to tail the shortest kid in the academy, keeping a safe distance. Their footsteps echoed in the hallway, muffled by the sounds of students heading to their next corporate-mandated torture session.
Jessica found Mortimer Smith interesting, almost as much as her friend David.
When she and David first met, he was the single most depressing kid she had ever met. Jessica wanted to change that. Their first meeting was… less than pleasant. David had immediately shut her out.
It took days, but she finally made progress when David said yes to her thirtieth ‘invite’ for a study session.
Ever since then, they had been close.
They had no romantic interest in each other; their friendship was 100% platonic, despite the rumors circulating at school.
“Where do you think he’s going?” David asked.
He and Jessica were hiding behind building corners and taking small peeks at Smith.
Smith held the device he had tampered with, and it looked like it was giving him directions.
They had been following him for roughly an hour, but neither was complaining nor giving up. They were currently at the edge of Santo Domingo, nearing the Badlands.
“I don’t know,” Jessica replied. “Maybe it’s something illegal?”
“No shit, it’s Night City. I think my mom kleps cyberware from stiffs.”
Night City was an ecosystem built on human misery. It was a place where the air tasted like copper and ozone. In the streets, people were murdered for a pair of second-hand sneakers or a handful of eddies.
A trauma team AV roared past the window, its sirens wailing as it rushed to save someone rich enough to matter.
“Look!” David pointed. “He’s going in…there?”
Jessica looked at where David was pointing.
Smith was entering a massive blue building whose paint had dulled from years of rain and sun. The yellow letters on the front were still recognizable, though several were cracked, stained, and partly hidden beneath streaks of grime.
The wide glass entrance doors stood crooked in their frames, some shattered, others stuck half-open. Faded posters still clung to the walls beside them, their colors bleached and peeling.
Jessica read the large, yellow text. “IKEA?”
“Yeah, the place has been there since before Arasaka got their grubby little hands on this city. And it's been abandoned even longer.”
David had lived in Santo Domingo his whole life. He was part of the community and had heard stories from everyone in the district, so Jessica trusted his information.
“Why do you think he’s going in there?” Jessica asked. “Is that like a squat spot for Valentinos?”
“Exact opposite, actually. No one ever goes there.” He shook his head. “Ghost stories all across town say never to go in there.”
“What? You tellin’ me you believe in ghosts?” The redhead teased.
“Last guy who got out was a ‘Tino missing for twenty years,” David remarked. “He was screaming about Slenderman-lookin’ motherfuckers. You tell me.”
Now Jessica was hesitant.
She was about to drag her and her friend into a place that had cold-blooded gangers go crazy.
But, wouldn’t it be considered ‘noble’ to assist a classmate if they were ever to get into trouble? So really, she was doing Smith a kindness by risking her life to pull him out of this IKEA.
“...Let’s go in.” She started walking to the abandoned building.
“Did you not hear a fucking word I said?” David raised his hands as he followed her. “The IKEA is one of the most avoided places in Santo Domingo for a god-damn reason! No one really knows what the reason is, but it’s still a reason!”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does for a Santo Kid,” He defended. “Trust me, you do not want to go in there.”
“I trust you, but shouldn’t we help Smith out?”
“Okay, we followed him because we were curious, not because we have a death wish!”
Man, what was David’s deal? Usually, he’d be all in for this type of shit. Were the stories really that scary?
“Relax, choom. I have a platinum plan on Trauma Team.” Jessica waved off.
“I don’t!” He retorted.
“I can pay for it, don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”
They arrived at the broken entrance.
Looking closer, Jessica saw the interior was surprisingly well-kept. The grimy glass doors opened into a spotless Self-Serve area lit by rows of bright ceiling panels that still hummed softly overhead.
Past the Self-Serve Area was the Market Hall. And they wasted no time running inside it.
Clean tiled paths guided customers through staged living rooms, kitchens, and bedrooms arranged exactly as if the store had opened that morning.
Shelves stood neatly stocked with folded towels, boxed cookware, lamps, and plastic storage bins, all organized by color and size. Fake plants remained trimmed and dust-free. Price tags still hung from displays in crisp blue-and-yellow holders.
There were no signs of looting, no scattered trash, no water damage, no collapsed ceiling tiles, nothing that matched the ruined shell outside. Even the polished handrails and escalators gleamed under the lights.
Jessica glanced back at the stained, decaying entrance behind them, then at the pristine furniture displays ahead.
“Okay,” she muttered. “That’s weird.”
“Yeah.” David agreed. He stepped closer to a pristine leather sofa. “Thought this place would be more… murder-y.”
He ran a hand across the cushion, then jerked it back like he’d touched a hot stove.
“What? Something wrong?” Jessica asked, suddenly alert.
“This…” He stared at his fingers, then looked back at the couch. “This is real leather.”
“WHAT!” She hurried over and pressed both hands against the armrest.
As the rich one between the two, Jessica knew the difference between synthetic blends and the genuine thing. The surface was cool, soft, and slightly textured, with the faint natural grain no cheap imitation could copy. It even carried that subtle smell only real leather had.
She immediately shifted her attention to the coffee table in front of it and laid a palm flat on the surface. Smooth varnish. Solid weight. Natural grain lines beneath the finish.
“This is real wood!”
“No fucking way, really?” David crouched beside her. He knocked on the side of the table and got a dense, solid thud instead of the hollow clack of particle board. “Nah. Nah, that’s impossible.”
Jessica stood and looked around with new eyes. The bookshelves lining the mock living room were thick timber panels with visible knots and seams. The dining chairs nearby had wooden frames that actually felt heavy. A kitchen display used stone countertops instead of printed composite. Even the rugs underfoot were woven fabric, not cheap synthetic mats.
Genuine, organic material became a luxury and a rarity in the world. Pollution and wars destroyed virtually everything that’s considered organic except for humans and some bugs.
Companies like Biotechnica have made an effort to revive them, but they cost a fortune.
Everything in the store was basically a goldmine.
David turned in a slow circle, eyeing the endless rows of immaculate furniture stretching deeper into the store. “So why the hell is all of it in an IKEA in Santo Domingo? Shouldn’t this play have been raided to hell and back?”
“I don’t know, but we are so taking all of this back and selling it,” Jessica smirked. “After we find Smith.”
“Oh, one hundred percent.” He excitedly nodded. David hopped on the leather couch and slouched as if he had finally released the world's weight off his shoulders. “Oooooohhhhh, fffffuuuuuck.”
“....Are you cumming, right now?”
“No, but I might as well be, this feels fucking amazing.”
“Huh, didn’t expect something like this here,” Morty said to himself as he scanned the interior of the IKEA. “But anything’s possible.”
Mortimer Smith of Dimension 7זト⊇V, more commonly known as Evil Morty, or just Morty, arrived in this dimension for one reason and one reason only.
There was nothing else worth doing.
After breaking out of the Central Finite Curve, Morty thought everything would be smooth sailing from there.
And it was.
That was the problem.
Everything was working too much like clockwork. Sure, the dimension outside dimensions was chaotic, but it had no structure in it that made things interesting. Dangerous, yes. Unpredictable, surely. But chaos is only interesting when it contains challenge, novelty, or leverage.
Once he escaped the Central Finite Curve, he achieved the thing that defined his existence: freedom from Rick-centred realities.
But after that, direction became unnecessary and intolerable.
He built a mansion in space. He built Mr. Belvegear, his robot butler, to handle routine tasks and conversation when necessary. He specifically chose a region with constant conflict and shifting power balances of sorts to place his space mansion, but that wasn’t enough.
One day, while looking through the infinite dimensions outside of Rick, he discovered one he can only describe as promising.
It offered ruthless power structures, corrupt megacorps, exploitable technology, human desperation, systems that can be manipulated, and probably even smart enemies with ambition.
He designated this dimension as MCΩ-1.
When Morty first arrived, he didn’t really react right away.
He just stood there for a few seconds, taking in the place.
MCΩ-1 wasn’t surprising in the way he expected. It was loud, crowded, and violent-looking. But in its core, he knew it was just like the citadel.
Before he took control.
The discrimination and the indifference all reminded him of his former presidency over senior ego-maniacs and whiny pushovers.
Which made it all the more interesting.
All he wanted was freedom from interference. But its uneventfulness made the outcome less satisfying than expected. Only slightly.
After some digging that lasted for days, he knew more about this dimension than the natives.
He discovered that there was no Morty Smith here. This gave him the chance to put himself in the government records.
Morty created a false background, including implant records, fingerprints, and a birth certificate. A background so detailed, suspicion would be deemed foolish.
And now, weeks after enrolling himself in Arasaka Academy as part of a long-term cover identity, he discovered a fucking IKEA in Santo Domingo that emitted a strange energy.
Dimensional energy.
He stood in the Cookshop & Tableware section of the store.
The area around him was filled with kitchen displays, shelves of utensils, cookware sets, glassware, and neatly arranged dining setups. Bright signs hung from the ceiling, marking sections like Cookware, Utensils, and Dining.
The section never seemed to end.
Rows of kitchen displays stretched far into the distance, repeating in identical modular segments. Each aisle ended normally, but when Morty passed a boundary point, the space reconnected into another segment with the same layout, as if the structure had been copied and misaligned across an invisible grid.
The ceiling was high and lined with endless fluorescent lights that continued so far that they faded into tiny white dots. The walls could not be seen anywhere. No windows showed the outside, only more display sections pretending to have them.
Signs pointed in different directions, often contradicting each other. One arrow said [Exit] and led to another aisle of cookware.
No matter where he looked, there were always more aisles beyond the next set of shelves. More pots. More pans. More neatly stacked plates.
He took out a device that read;
[DIMENSIONAL ANOMALY DETECTED]
TYPE: NON-LOCALIZED SPATIAL INCONSISTENCY
STABILITY: HIGH
BOUNDARY FAILURE: CONFIRMED
“Non-localized Spatial Inconsistency?” Morty pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. That meant the exit probably wasn’t going to be easy to find.
Reaching for his pocket, he grabbed his portal gun and fired.
Or at least tried.
BZZZT!
Much to its creator’s annoyance, the golden pistol with toxic liquid short-circuited and sparked electricity.
“Shit, the spatial inconsistency is interfering with the gun. I need to make some adjustments if I wanna get out of here.” Morty noted to himself. “I don’t have the materials.”
Wait.
The route to the upper floor was visible. According to the hanging signs and the map he had glanced at earlier, the path from the Cookshop and Tableware curved directly toward the stairs leading up to the Showroom. From there, the Kitchen room sat along the main route.
Electrical appliances.
“That’ll do,” Morty muttered.
He holstered the disabled portal gun and started walking.
He moved past the last rows of miniature plates and glassware shelves, then followed the painted arrows toward the upward escalator. The steps carried him out of the endless room and into the upper floor.
Then he noticed another sign overhead.
[SWEDISH RESTAURANT & CAFÉ]
Upper mezzanine access.
Food courts usually meant seating, outlets, tools left behind by staff, maintenance access, and, unlikely, employees.
That made it worth checking before he started tearing apart blenders for components.
At the top, the space opened into a cafeteria entrance lined with trays, railings, and promotional posters of meatballs and salmon plates.
He paused.
He heard voices. Familiar ones.
“Holy shit, this bread doesn’t taste like styrofoam!”
“Choom, try this rice! I only had this stuff at parties my parents drag me to!”
Jessica and Martinez? Did they seriously follow him here?!
“Meatballs! They don’t taste like shit!”
Right. Food quality in this dimension was generally terrible. This was probably the closest thing Martinez had found to an actual meal.
“They have real lemonade!”
Huh. Jessica sounded pleased, too. Less enthusiastic than Martinez, but that made sense. She’d probably eaten food like this before.
“How the fuck did these not expire?”
Good question, Martinez.
“Do you care?”
You should, Jessica.
“No way, this is nova as fuck!”
Martinez, you’re an immediate disappointment.
Morty stopped just outside the kitchen entrance, listening with a blank expression. And somehow more annoying than expected.
He glanced at the doorway, then adjusted his posture and kicked the door down with enough force to tear it off its hinges.
The metal door crashed inward and skidded across the floor.
Evil Morty stepped through the ruined entrance.
What the fuck?! How can an entire kitchen be so empty?!
And how the fuck was there still food?!
Jessica and Martinez froze mid-motion, startled by his sudden appearance.
Jessica sat at a prep table with a plate of ground beef and rice in front of her. In one hand, she held a translucent glass filled with yellow liquid, the lemonade she had been praising moments earlier.
David Martinez was the worst sight of the two.
His face was smeared with red sauce. He was halfway through devouring a baguette while grabbing fistfuls of spaghetti straight from a Gastronorm pan with his bare hands.
Both looked at him for a long second.
“…Seriously?”
Martinez slowly stopped chewing, and Jessice used a napkin to wipe her mouth.
“Heyyyyyy, choom.” The redhead awkwardly greeted.
“Hff Shmth!” The Latino….greeted? With a full mouth. Morty couldn’t tell for sure.
“It’s unlikely our meeting is coincidental.” The eyepatch-wearing kid stated. “You two followed me here from school.“
“That’s not what’s important right now!” She said as she stood up. “How could you keep all this and not sell a thing?”
“Sell?” What were they talking about?”
“Yeah!” Martinez agreed, finishing his food. “You can dump this to Arasaka and be the richest motherfucker in class!”
Oh, the contents within the IKEA. He supposed that made sense. A lot of the goods here are platinum in quality by this world’s standards.
“Because it’s not mine?” Morty asked rather than stated. “I came here for another reason.”
“What other reason?” Martinez asked.
“Not sure how that’s your concern.”
“Oh come on!” Jessica whined. “Tell us!”
Annoying. He’d underestimated how distracting she could be. He’d need to dampen activity in the ventral tegmental area later so as not to let affection get in the way.
“Fine,” Morty said, annoyed he’d answered at all. Reheads, an old preference he should have edited out by now. “I came here because I detected something weird with my Anomaly Detector.”
“You mean that thing you were bugging with earlier?” The street rat asked again.
“Yep.”
“So what’s so anomalous about this place?” The local variant of his former object of affection stepped closer. “Y’know, aside from shit that’s practically made of eddies.”
She wasn’t wrong, but he had enough money to spare.
It was easy to hack into government banks when you ran one staffed by the smartest people in their respective universes.
“If you want, take’em.” Morty shrugged. “That is, if you can.”
“The fuck that's supposed to mean?” Now it was Martinez’s turn to get closer.
“The exit’s gone.”
“WHAT?!”
Damn, they were loud.
Jessica grabbed Morty by the collar, shaking him hard.
Morty didn’t react. “Stop doing that.”
Martinez stepped forward, alarmed. “What do you mean the exit’s gone?!”
Morty exhaled through his nose.
“The anomaly I detected was this building,” he said evenly. “I discovered that this building doesn’t maintain stable connections to external space.”
Martinez frowned. “Translate that into normal language.”
Morty paused briefly.
He didn’t know why, but he would indulge them with answers.
“Inside each section, everything behaves normally,” he said. “Rooms, corridors, escalators, all of it is physically consistent while you’re in it.”
He tilted his head slightly toward the direction they came from.
“But the layout between sections doesn’t stay fixed. So moving back doesn’t guarantee you return to the same connected route you entered from.”
Jessica blinked. “So we just retrace our steps.”
“You can try,” Morty said. “But didn’t you hear me? The problem is that the connections shift. What you remember as a path may no longer lead to the same place once you return to it.”
Martinez scoffed. “That sounds like bullshit.”
“It isn’t,” Morty said flatly. “The structure repeats in modular segments, but the connections between those segments aren’t stable. Over distance, the map stops being reliable.”
Jessica’s grip on him loosened slightly. “So the exit… doesn’t exist?”
“It exists,” Morty corrected. “But it doesn’t remain anchored to a consistent location long enough to reliably reach it.”
He stepped past them toward the corridor.
“You’re dealing with a structure where the door doesn’t stay connected to the same place.”
Martinez shook his head. “C’mon, Jess. This is obviously bullshit.”
Morty didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he nodded once toward the cafeteria behind them.
“You’ve been eating here,” he said.
Martinez frowned. “Yeah? So what?”
“That food didn’t come from any traceable supply chain,” Morty said. “And this building is supposed to be abandoned.”
“Yeah? And?”
Morty looked at him directly.
“Then explain why everything is intact. Lights, food, furniture, none of it worn down or rotted, none of it is restocked in any visible way.”
Jessica slowly glanced back at her plate, uncertainty creeping in.
“So it’s just… restocked?” Martinez asked.
Morty shook his head once.
This was his second in class.
“It doesn’t get restocked,” he said. “It remains in a continuous state of preservation.”
He gestured slightly toward the corridor.
“We saw no one here that maintains this shit.”
A pause.
Martinez’s confidence faltered. “So where does it all come from?”
Morty’s expression didn’t change.
“That’s not the important question,” he said. “The important part is that you didn’t question it until now.”
He turned slightly away.
They walked out of the restaurant.
The aisle stretched ahead, rows of furniture displays, long aisles, and overhead lighting that hummed steadily. Everything looked normal at a glance.
But not quite.
They moved toward the large glass panels separating the dining area from the rest of the store.
Outside, the layout didn’t match what they remembered.
Martinez stopped. “Hold up… this doesn’t look like the way we came in.”
“Yeah. It’s the same setup, but the layout isn’t connecting properly. It’s like the path changed.” Jessica stepped closer to the glass.
Ah, they were finally getting it.
Morty joined them.
“That’s because it did,” he said. “As I said, the structure doesn’t preserve fixed routes between sections. What you remember as a path is only valid while you’re inside the same local segment.”
Martinez turned. “So we’re walking in circles?”
“No,” Morty said. “Circles imply a closed loop. This is closer to re-linked segmentation. The space reassigns connections between identical layouts.”
Jessica looked down the aisles again. “So how do we get out?”
“First, we need to go to the Kitchen aisle,” the former President of the Citadel said.
“Why there?” Second place asked.
“I have something with me that can get us out of here,” Morty said. “But it requires specific components. That aisle has what I need.”
“This’ll be fun,” Martinez said sarcastically.
“Then let’s have fun.”
David, along with Jessica and Smith, had been walking for roughly thirty minutes through the IKEA. He followed his male classmate, hoping he’d eventually find whatever they were supposed to be looking for.
What exactly that was, David couldn’t say.
They were still in the Children’s IKEA, and the repetition was driving him cyberpsycho. He could tell Jessica and Smith were feeling it too.
“Hey!” David called out. “What do we do now?”
“Keep walking,” Smith said flatly.
“We’ve been doing that for half an hour!”
Smith stopped and turned to him. “What do you suggest, then?”
David didn’t answer.
As much as it pained him to admit it, they couldn’t do anything.
Smith was right. This store felt never-ending, practically infinite. And David had a feeling that turning back would only get them more lost.
Taking the silence as an answer, Smith walked again, with David and Jessica following behind.
“So,” Jessica said after a moment, “Anomaly Detector. What exactly does it do?”
“It’s a scanner I built to detect foreign dimensional energy,” Smith said, taking a right turn without slowing. “Things that don’t belong in this reality.”
Jessica glanced around the endless rows of children beds. “Wait. You mean this IKEA came from another dimension?”
“Would explain why this place is like this,” David muttered.
“Probably,” Smith said with a shrug. “I checked local records. No records of this place being built. According to rumor, it just appeared one day.”
David looked up.
“Actually… yeah,” he said. “I’ve heard people talk about it before. Thought it was just that. Stories.”
“Never dismiss stories outright,” Smith said.
He pressed a button on his eyepatch. The black patch glowed orange and revealed a hexagon pattern..
“Sometimes they’re badly explained facts.”
With an audible PING, Smith turned a full 360 degrees while moving his head up and down.
‘It looks like he’s scanning.’ David guessed.
“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Jessica started. “Why the eyepatch?“
“What do you mean?” Smith asked, finishing his sweep.
“I mean, everyone’s got cyberoptics implanted in them when they were kids. I doubt you’re so poor that you can’t get some from a ripperdoc.”
David had to agree. Cyberoptics were about as common as neuroports.
Using his own optics, he focused on Smith again. The only visible chrome on him was a neuroport connected directly to the patch. Whatever the patch itself was, it wasn’t broadcasting much. All David could confirm was that it interfaced with a standard port.
“Didn’t start augmenting myself until last year,” Smith said, continuing to walk.
“You’re kidding,” David said, staring. “Were you raised by monks or something?”
“Or something.”
Okay. Smartass.
“I built and installed all my chrome myself.”
“Whoa, seriously?” David said, suddenly interested.
That explained the lack of branding. Most cyberware had corporate names part of their code that made them visible to scans.
“Yep.”
Jessica sped up until she was beside him. “You planning to be an Arasaka chopdoc?”
“If I wanted to be a ripper,” Smith said, “I would’ve gone to NCU.”
“Planning to be a corpo, then?” David sped up, too, suddenly more interested in his classmate than the endless aisle around them.
“Aren’t you?” Smith asked, raising a brow.
“Ha!” Jessica barked out a laugh. “David Martinez? Dedicated corpo? That’ll be the day.”
Smith glanced at David. “I’m guessing no.”
“You guessed right,” Jessica said before David could answer. “Gonk’s always wanted to be an edgerunner.”
“Hey!” David snapped. “Could’ve let me say that myself.”
Jessica only smirked.
And why wouldn’t he want that life? He’d literally been delivered by one when he was born.
“A cyberpunk?” Smith said. “What for? You’ve got decent grades.”
Well, this was embarrassing. Then again, it wasn’t exactly a secret.
“I’m poor as fucking dirt, and I hate corpos. Why else?” David scoffed.
“But… you’re in AA.”
“My mom’s the one keeping me in school,” David said. “If it were up to me, we’d already be rich.”
“To be fair,” Smith said evenly, “if your kid wants to become a criminal for a living, discouraging that is basic common sense.”
“It’s Night City! Who the fuck isn’t a criminal?!” He yelled the ridiculously obvious. “We’re technically committing a crime right now by trespassing!”
“On whose property?” Jessica placed a hand on her hip.
“Shut up!”
Right when he screamed, every light in the Infinite IKEA shut instantly.
“Was… was that supposed to happen?” David asked Smith, his nervousness only half-hidden.
“How should I know?” Smith said. “I’ve already told you everything I know. I’m just as lost as you are.”
Preem. The guy who knew the most knew nothing.
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
“Who said that?” the only girl in the group asked. David could hear the fear creeping into her voice.
“Wasn’t me,” he replied at once.
“Me neither.” Eyepatch raised a hand.
STOMP!
STOMP!
STOMP!
The heavy noise echoed through the aisle.
All three slowly turned toward the direction it was coming from.
At the far end of the hallway, David couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
A tall figure stepped out, dressed in a yellow employee shirt and blue work pants. It looked human at first glance, but only at first glance.
Its arms were too long. Its shoulders too narrow. The legs bent wrong with each heavy step, as if the joints had only a rough idea of how they were supposed to work.
Where its face should have been, there was nothing.
No eyes. No nose. No mouth. Just smooth, pale skin stretched across a blank head.
It took another step.
STOMP!
“What the fuck is that?” Jessica asked.
David noted the blameless fear in her voice when she did.
Fear he was feeling too.
The frightened teenager scanned the freak he was looking at and picked up nothing.
That…thing…was totally blank. His optics couldn’t get a single reading from it. In fact, it was like the creature’s outline was glitching slightly.
Could it be that someone quickhacked them that made them see this thing?
“This can’t be real, right?” David turned to his companions with sweat beading off him.
The creature placed its freakishly long arms down with its fingers firmly on the floor.
“We should probably run,” Smith said, stepping back. “Because real or not, I doubt that thing getting close is a good idea.”
Just as he said that, the creature placed both of its freakishly long fingers on the ground. And like the beast it appeared to be, it charged.
The way it moved was reminiscent of one of those apes David had seen in movies.
“OH SHIT!” He screamed. He looked back and saw Smith and Jessica already running.
Those assholes!
Composing himself quickly, David ran and caught up to them.
“Why did you leave me?!” David gave his friend a pointed, yet terrified glare.
“Not my fault, you were acting on horror movie logic!” Jessica hysterically screamed, running as fast as she possibly could.
“Seriously, who the fuck just stands there when a monster charges at them like a bull?” Smith’s voice was frustratingly steady.
“Apologies for being frozen in fear, I wasn’t expecting Slenderman’s broke-ass, blue-collar cousin suddenly appearing out of fucking nowhere!”
They took a hard right. The creature, hot on their tail, slid and crashed into a living room display.
That should give them some time.
David hoped Smith could get them out of this.
Morty should have anticipated hostile threats, especially in Night City.
Unfortunately, he overslept and left his sidearm on the kitchen table.
How careless of him.
‘Modifying my portal gun is going to take some time,’ Morty thought to himself as he ran at top speed. ‘Better take care of that thing first.’
Looking back while still running, he saw the creature chasing them, though with a noticeable lack of balance.
‘Probably still disoriented from the crash,’ Morty theorized. ‘But damn, if it isn’t driven.’
He looked around and had an idea. He hadn’t noticed it before, but they were out of the Children’s IKEA and in the Workspaces aisle.
Morty activated his eyepatch.
His HUD highlighted several electronics, none of which he could use for his portal gun.
But…
[SYMFONISK Lamp]
He could use that for their new friend.
Morty quickly maneuvered toward the lamp and away from his recently acquired company.
“Smith!” Martinez called out, pausing briefly in his tracks along with Jessica. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
They should be useful.
“Quick! Throw stuff at it!” Morty ordered as he dismantled the speaker lamp. “I’ve got a plan!”
“What?!” Jessica’s eyes widened.
“Just do it!”
They followed his orders, albeit hesitantly.
Jessica was the first to move, grabbing a nearby chair and hurling it down the aisle. It skidded across the floor, slamming into a display rack and toppling a stack of organizers.
“Go, go!” she snapped, already reaching for something else.
Martinez swore under his breath but joined in, ripping a metal desk lamp from its base and chucking it straight at the charging figure. It clipped the creature’s shoulder and sent it staggering a half-step off course.
It didn’t slow down.
STOMP!
STOMP!
STOMPI
“Yeah, that did nothing!” Martinez yelled, grabbing another object, this time a plastic drawer, and throwing it harder out of frustration than strategy.
Behind them, Morty was already on the floor, hands moving fast.
The SYMFONISK lamp came apart in seconds. Remove the outer casing. Exposing the internal speaker. Rerouted the wiring.
He worked on it, barely looking at what Martinez and Jessica were doing.
“Keep it busy!” he called out.
“We’re trying!” Jessica shot back, kicking a rolling chair into the creature’s path. It tangled briefly in its legs, buying them a second. Just one.
Morty adjusted the internal driver, overloading the output channel. He ripped a cable free, rewired it into a crude trigger, then reinforced the housing just enough to keep it from detonating in his hand.
Unelegant, but functional.
The creature closed the distance again, its long limbs slamming against the floor in uneven rhythm.
“Anytime now would be great!” Martinez shouted.
He twisted the final connection into place.
The device let out a faint, rising whine.
Then he stood, turned, and raised it toward the oncoming figure.
“Move.”
He knew he said it faintly, but he also knew they heard him.
Jessica ran to the left while Martinez rolled to the right, leaving Morty slap-dab in the center of the creature’s eyeless gaze.
“Boom boom, motherfucker.”
He pulled the trigger, and-
BOOM!
The makeshift weapon fired a sonic blast.
The blast was powerful enough to decimate everything in its path.
The tiled floor and the surrounding furniture were crushed and torn apart, and every light bulb on the ceiling shattered.
The creature was not spared.
The shockwave hit it head-on.
Its entire frame snapped backward as if yanked. The impact folded its body in on itself, joints bending past anything natural.
Its elongated arms took the brunt first. The limbs twisted violently, compressing under the pressure before whipping outward at unnatural angles. One shoulder collapsed inward with a sickening lack of resistance, the arm hanging even as the force continued to drive through it.
The torso followed. Its chest caved slightly, the smooth surface of its skin rippling like stretched material under strain. The blast distorted it, warping its proportions. The structure underneath wasn’t meant to withstand that kind of force.
Its legs lost whatever balance they had left. Knees buckled, then inverted, the creature forced off its feet entirely as the shockwave carried it backward.
The faceless head snapped to the side, then jerked forward again, the blank surface remaining intact, but not unchanged. Subtle indentations formed and vanished across it, like pressure was passing through something hollow.
Then it hit the ground.
Hard.
THUD.
Morty let out a sigh of relief, the weapon in his hand destroyed by its own power.
It was a one-shot deal.
“So Nova!”
“That was so preem!”
He’d forgotten about them.
Morty turned back and saw Martinez and Jessica, wide-eyed in awe.
He had to admit, it was a great boost to his self-esteem.
“How did you do that?” Jessica asked, rudely taking the damaged weapon from Morty’s hands and inspecting it. “How did you make this?”
“I doubt you’d understand.” Morty crossed his arms.
“Try us.” Martinez challenged.
“How about we continue this after we get out of here?” The young inventor suggested. “I don’t think that was the only one. And if it wasn’t, the loud-as-hell blast probably attracted others.”
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.” A more muffled and distant voice announced. A voice similar to the creature’s.
“Let’s keep quiet, shall we?”
“Yep.” Jessica hurriedly whispered.
“No argument.” Martinez did the same.
David was in awe.
He thought the day would be like any other.
But so far, after school, he’d followed the smartest guy he knew into an infinite IKEA, had an amazing meal, been chased by a faceless monster, and watched that same boy blast it into nothing.
Everything today was just so preem.
Their little group finally arrived in the Kitchen aisle.
Smith, with Jessica’s help, was working on a strange golden gun. It was bulky, assembled from mismatched components, with parts Jessica had never seen before.
The most eye-catching feature was a vial attached to it, filled with a glowing yellow substance spinning in a tight vortex.
Around them were electric kitchen appliances stripped to their bare components. Some had missing parts, courtesy of Smith.
David was on lookout, armed with a gun that Smith made for him.
It was built from a hollowed-out microwave shell, with a flickering [00:00] display still active on its side. Inside were repurposed heating rods wrapped in copper wiring, forming the core of the system. A small speaker unit acted as the stock, cables holding everything together, with a kitchen handle used as the grip. A compact milk frother was attached along the side, buzzing occasionally as a crude cooling system.
He really wanted to try it out.
“How’s it going over there?” David whispered, loud enough for them to hear, but not enough to attract the attention of the creatures.
“I’m halfway done. Just give me some more time.” Smith said.
He couldn’t see it, but he knew Smith was working as fast as he could.
So far, David hadn’t seen any of those creatures yet, which was a relief. As much as he wanted to try the gun out, he also wanted to get out of the IKEA.
As long as they were quiet, everything would be fi-BANG!
The sudden noise snapped David’s attention around.
Smith was standing there with an annoyed expression, glaring at a sheepish-looking Jessica, who was holding a small blackened screwdriver. The gun also had scorch marks.
“Whoops?” Jessica said, rubbing the back of her head.
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
Oh no.
David raised his gun toward the voice.
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.” Another, slightly altered voice said
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.” And another.
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.” And another.
Four figures stepped into view, each one different in size and proportions.
The first was tall and stretched thin, its limbs elongated and uneven, moving with stiff, delayed motions as if its joints weren’t fully aligned.
The second was shorter and bulkier, its frame compressed and wide, shoulders too broad for its torso, giving it a hunched posture..
The third was angled strangely, its posture slightly twisted to one side, as though its body had been assembled incorrectly and never corrected, forcing it to tilt as it walked.
The fourth was the smallest, compact and rapid in its movements, its limbs shorter and closer to its body, twitching slightly with each step.
All four wore the same yellow staff shirt and blue work pants.
All four repeated the same phrase in near-unison.
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
David gulped, his hands shaking in fear.
“Martinez.”
Shakily, David turned and saw that Smith wasn’t even looking at him, still focused on the weapon.
“The chamber is on the top; it reloads using broken pieces of plate and glass,” Smith said. “Now stop shaking and shoot, because they’re coming our way.”
Wait, what?
David turned again and saw the creatures coming in hot.
‘Okay, Martinez. LIGHT ‘EM UP!’
He pulled the trigger.
THUNK!
A glowing shard of ceramic tore down the aisle like a comet. It struck the nearest creature dead center, erupting into a burst of white-hot fragments that ripped across its frame and threw it backward into a display rack.
“Still moving!” David shouted, stumbling back.
The tall one didn’t fall. It just kept coming, slower, but persistent.
Behind him, Smith and Jessica didn’t even look up. They were crouched over the device, hands moving fast.
“Hold them off,” Smith said flatly. “I’m not done yet.”
“Cool, cool, yeah, easy,” David muttered, backing up as another shot loaded.
He fired again.
THUNK!
The second shard hit the bulky creature mid-charge, snapping it sideways into a shelving unit. Kitchenware exploded outward in a metallic crash, but it dragged itself forward anyway, limbs scraping across the floor.
“Why are they still-?!” Jessica started.
“Because they’re not normal, I don’t think they feel pain,” Smith cut in, not looking away from the wiring he was adjusting. “Keep shooting.”
David swallowed hard.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, already reaching for another plate fragment.
The twisted one slipped between aisles, movement wrong and uneven, closing the distance faster than the others.
David pivoted.
THUNK!
Too late.
The shot grazed it, tearing a glowing line across its side, but it kept coming.
“Guys, slight problem-!”
“Not now,” Smith said immediately.
“Yeah, I noticed!” David snapped back, stepping behind a display counter as the creature slammed into it, shattering wood and glass.
Smith tightened a connection in the device. “We need thirty more seconds.”
“THAT’S A LOT OF SECONDS!” David yelled, firing again.
THUNK!
The shot caught the smaller creature mid-leap and blasted it backward into the floor, where it spasmed under a rain of molten ceramic shards.
For a moment, the aisle was quiet.
Then-
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
Not four voices anymore.
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
“The store is now closed. Please exit the building.”
More voices repeated the phrase, overlapping slightly.
David looked down the aisle.
More of them were coming in. Not just four anymore, at least eight, maybe more, stepping out from between shelves and display gaps. Different heights, same uniforms, same blank faces. All are moving toward them at a steady pace.
“Yeah… that’s not good,” David said under his breath.
He fired.
THUNK!
A heated shard launched and hit the closest one in the torso. The impact snapped it backward, fragments scattering across the floor and nearby shelves. It slowed, but didn’t stop.
David adjusted his stance and fired again.
THUNK!
Another hit, this one to the leg of a second creature. The limb bent at an unnatural angle, but it kept moving, dragging slightly as it advanced.
“They don’t go down!” David said, stepping back.
No response.
Smith and Jessica were still behind him, focused on the device. He could hear metal shifting, parts clicking into place, and the faint rising whine of something powering up.
David reached for another plate shard.
Nothing.
He checked the hopper. Empty.
“…Seriously?”
He looked around, and there were no more broken ceramic shards to use.
The creatures were closer now, maybe ten meters away. They had spread out slightly, not rushing, just closing the distance from multiple angles.
David raised the weapon anyway, even though it wouldn’t fire.
“Smith!”
“Almost done.”
“Now would be a great time!”
One of the taller ones sped up, its stride lengthening. Another moved around a shelf to the side, cutting off space.
David stepped back again, nearly bumping into the counter behind him.
There was a sharp click behind him.
“Done.”
David turned.
The gun looked fully repaired. The outer frame was intact, with some exposed wiring. The vial’s contents were still rotating.
Jessica blinked at it. “That’s… finished?”
Smith didn’t answer. He raised the gun and aimed.
He fired.
A circular opening formed instantly in front of them, about two meters tall. The edge was a thin, glowing ring. Inside, the surface looked like liquid under constant motion, with a yellow coloration.
Jessica froze for a second. “Wait-”
“Go,” Smith said.
One of the creatures closed to. Its arm extended forward.
David moved first. He stepped into the opening, pulling Jessica with him. She hesitated for half a step, then followed.
Smith entered last.
As soon as he passed through, the opening contracted and disappeared.
Jessica passed through the yellow portal and landed face-first on the ground.
Ouch.
“Guuuugggghhh,” she groaned.
This was still a very preem day, no one could say otherwise.
“Aaaagggghhh.”
She lifted her head slightly and saw David on his back, also groaning.
“Don’t be overdramatic.”
Sitting up, she looked Smith in the eye.
She glanced around. They were outside the IKEA now, in a back alley behind the building.
Smith looked completely unbothered. This clearly wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with something like that.
“Sorry,” Jessica said. “It’s been a hectic day.”
“Mhm,” Smith hummed. He dragged over a trash bin and sat on it. “So why did you follow me?”
…How was she supposed to answer that without sounding like a creep?
“Same reason you went into that building,” David said, getting up and answering for her. “We got curious.”
Smith raised a brow.
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Satisfaction brought it back,” Jessica shot back.
Smith stepped closer, leaning down until he was inches from her face.
Up close, she caught his scent, clean, sharp, almost sterile. It reminded her of an airport terminal’s filtered air, faint metal, something processed.
Weirdly enough, she liked it.
“Tell me, kitty.” He spoke huskily, the heat of his breath making her blush slightly. “Were you satisfied?”
Is she satisfied?
Most of her life, she’d been told she was destined for great things as an Arasaka executive. In banking.
Would she be rich? Yes. Would she be happy? Maybe, if she found the right person.
But satisfied?
No.
She wouldn’t be.
Like David, she wanted something more than being another Arasaka dog. Not an edgerunner, but not that life either. Something else.
She just didn’t know what yet.
But with Smith…
Maybe she’d find it. Maybe she’d figure out what she actually wanted to be.
Maybe this was the start of it.
“No,” Jessica answered.
It was an answer that surprised the boys.
“I’m not. I want more.”
“Elaborate.” Smith crossed his arms, interested.
“I don’t want to be an Arasaka executive.” She stood up and looked Morty dead in his singular eye. “I don’t know what I want to be. But I do know this, Mortimer Smith.”
She gave the bravest grin she could to the most interesting boy she had ever met.
“I want to be your friend.”
Jessica caught the confusion on his face. It was… kind of cute.
“I’m… sorry?”
“You heard me.” She planted her fists at her sides. “I want to be your friend, and I want you to be mine.”
“Is… is this a tactic?” Smith asked. “So I’ll back you up after graduation?”
Oh god. Are guys just gonks by nature?
“Didn’t you hear me?” Jessica said, frowning. “I don’t care about being an Arasaka executive. I want to be your friend. What’s so hard to understand?”
“Motives?” Smith and David said at the same time.
David, why-
“Choomba?!”
“What?” David pointed at Smith. “I’m just as lost as him!”
“Listen,” She started. “There are no hidden motives, you’re just so interesting!”
“Damn straight.” Her friend agreed, pushing himself up and stepping beside her, brushing dust off his jacket. “Is it always like this with you?”
Smith didn’t answer right away. He just looked between the two of them, expression flat, like he was trying to decide if this was worth dealing with.
“…Which answer gets you two to leave me alone?” he said finally, raising a finger slightly.
Jessica crossed her arms, unimpressed.
You’re not getting away that easy, One-eye Smithy.
“None.”
There was a brief pause.
Smith let out a quiet breath through his nose.
“Damn.”
Jessica didn’t drop it.
She stepped closer, just enough to stay in his space without crowding him.
“Look, I’m not asking for anything complicated,” she said. “No deals. No favors. No ‘back me up when we graduate’ nonsense.”
Smith didn’t respond.
“I just… want to be around,” she continued, more direct now. “You go places. Weird places. Interesting places.” She gestured toward the IKEA behind them. “And I’d rather not go back to pretending school is the most exciting thing in my life after that.”
She shrugged. “You don’t even have to like me. Just don’t ditch me.”
David snorted. “That’s your pitch?”
Jessica shot him a look. “I’m being honest.”
Smith studied her for a moment.
Then-
“You realize,” he said, “that following me tends to result in situations like that.” He nodded slightly toward the building.
Jessica didn’t hesitate and just nodded. “Yeah.”
“…And you’re still asking?”
“Yeah.” She nodded again.
Smith exhaled lightly. “Morty.”
“Huh?/What?” She and David vocalized respectively.
“I prefer Morty.” Smith….Morty clarified.
“Okay, Morty.” David tested it out. “I prefer David.”
Morty looked at Jessica, expecting something from her.
And she knew just what he was looking for.
“And I prefer Jessica.”