With her newfound determination burning in her eyes, Sophie turned her attention to the scav haunt properly. The bodies of the dead scavs littered the floor around her, their lifeless forms twisted and broken in the light of the seedy room.

  The stench of blood and grime hung heavy in the air, but Sophie had long gotten used to it. The smell had been a constant presence during her captivity after all. With her freedom in hand, there was a temptation to simply leave. To get away from the traumatic memories of her time as a captive. However, there were resources, now abandoned, in the scav den. Valuable resources that would otherwise be difficult to acquire, especially in her current condition.

  Sophie approached the nearest corpse. The scav’s face and mask were broken, seemingly by a fist. The girl’s thoughts immediately turned to the massive guy that had wrenched open her cage door. It was probably him. She slightly grimaced at the bloody sight but reached down anyway, her fingers searching the man’s body. A handful of Eurodollars, a half-empty pack of cigarettes, and a rusted lighter later, she moved on to the next corpse. It yielded more Eurodollars and a combat knife. The blade was chipped and the grip worn, but it was better than nothing.

  She continued to loot the bodies, prying weapons and supplies from cold hands. A rusty pipe wrench, a damaged Burya, and a sparking DB-2 Satara shotgun were among her finds. Each new weapon was set aside in a growing pile on the floor. Her malnourished frame didn’t approve of the behaviour, protesting with each heavy item she dragged over. By the time she was finished, her arms ached and she was desperate for some rest.

  “I really need to get myself into better shape. I can’t do a fucking thing in this condition.” Despite her complaints, the girl continued her looting.

  Once she had all of the scavenged weapons laid out before her, Sophie knelt down to examine them. The pipe wrench was crude, more a tool than a weapon, but it would be highly effective if she needed to take someone down non-lethally. The Burya had definitely seen better days; the barrel was cracked and burned, likely from poor maintenance and intense use.

  Her gaze lingered on the DB-2 Satara, running her fingers over the battered shotgun. The memory of the ‘borg that had attacked Amber was clear. A shotgun would give her a method to combat such a person. It was tempting, but the weight and obvious signs of damage was a deterrent.

  Finally, she settled on a Nue pistol that was in relatively good condition. The Tsunami-made gun was high quality and dealt decent damage. She double-checked the magazine, which was full, and slid it into a ragged holster she’d found. A combat knife, dull and pitted but functional, joined the pistol in a similarly scavenged sheath.

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  A small bag sat nearby, and the girl grabbed it, dusting it off before stuffing it with food looted from around the den. She took as much as possible but a slice of cold pizza on a stained plate remained. It would be her first proper meal in the Cyberpunk world. She sat cross-legged on the floor, avoiding the stained furniture, eating slowly as her thoughts churned.

  Night City was an unforgiving shithole, especially for a fourteen year old. With no connections, friends or resources, some measure of safety was Sophie’s first goal. As she chewed the last bite of pizza, she began to think through her options for a safe place to hide.

  Considering she wasn’t entirely sure where exactly she was, only that it was an industrial area, her options were fairly limited for a safe place, at least in the near future. Most of the industrial areas in NC could be found in Watson, Santo Domingo or Charter Hill.

  If she was in Watson, escaping the area was her highest priority. The borderline cyberpsycho ‘borgs that made up the Maelstrom gang were some of the most dangerous people she could encounter in the city.

  Santo Domingo wouldn’t be too bad, though the veterans gang, 6th Street, weren’t an appealing group to conflict with. Sophie wouldn’t mind staying there for a day or two, but she wouldn’t stay too long. That left Charter Hill.

  Charter Hill was in Westbrook, meaning it was controlled by the Tyger Claws. Sophie recalled a specific gig, provided by Wakako Okada, that took place in an underground casino near the sewers. If there was an easily accessible entrance to the sewer system , it would make a very good place to hide.

  “Well, I guess I’ve got my plan. The sewers it is.”

  It was by no means glamorous, but it was secluded and gave her plenty of escape routes. How she got there would just depend on where the scav haunt she’d been captive in was located. She grabbed her bag, intending to leave immediately. However, a warm breeze washed over her body and she looked down. Right. I’m still naked. Having gone without clothing for weeks, Sophie had gotten used to it. Definitely need some clothes.

  She looked around. Most of the garments, both worn by the dead scavs or strewn around the den, were oversized and stained. In her current condition though, Sophie didn’t have the luxury of being picky. She pulled on a jacket that dwarfed her, the sleeves dragging past her hands. She tied them up with scavenged straps to make them manageable. A pair of pants were tightened with a belt, and boots several sizes too big completed her outfit. Ridiculous as she might look, it would provide some protection from the elements and prying eyes.

  Finally, she combed over the scav den again, checking to make sure she hadn’t missed anything valuable. A few more Eurodollars, some ammo, and canned food joined the bag’s significant weight.

  With her loot gathered and gear prepared, Sophie made her way back to the industrial furnace. She gazed into the heated hole, the place that had consumed Mia’s body.

  “I swear, I’ll never be powerless again. I’ll hunt until I’m the strongest. No matter who it is. Thank you, Mia. For everything.”

  As she turned to leave, the girl spotted a Nokota D5 Copperhead that she had missed, covered by a scav’s corpse. Her fingers twitched and eventually, she gave in. Sophie strapped the rifle to her back with a pair of belts.

  With one last look at the furnace, Sophie adjusted the bag on her shoulder and walked away. Her feet carried her through the scav den, allowing her to truly escape the place in which she had witnessed the true horrors of Night City. The air outside was just slightly less filthy than the den’s, but the open space felt liberating. She took a deep breath and looked at the night sky.

  “I’m free.”