Corpo Plaza – Aurore's Apartment – 10:17 PM
Vincent had been spending the whole day at Aurore's, he sat in silence, the bitter tang of Aurore's coffee still thick on his tongue. Outside, Corpo Plaza's ivory towers glowed like sterilized altars to a future built on betrayal. Inside, everything was too clean, too quiet, too unlike the rest of Night City. The walls breathed luxury, but Vincent felt like a virus inside them—unwelcome, unstable.
Aurore paced across the glass floor in soft bare feet, wrapped in a silk robe she probably got for blackmailing someone once. "You're lucky I didn't lock you out," she muttered.
"I thought you were done with me," Vincent replied, eyes red-rimmed, body aching.
"I am," she said without turning. "But you're too broken to be left on the street. You're a mess. You stink of that shit beer you drink and bad code."
Vincent smirked. "Takes one to know one."
That stopped her. She turned, arms folded, red hair catching the smartlight. "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Try to pretend like we're the same," she snapped. "I didn't burn down half the city chasing ghosts."
Vincent shot up from the couch, veins pulsing. "You're standing on your own grave, Aurore. Don't act like you don't love this shit. You were there at the Black Sapphire. You knew what it was. What it would cost."
"That's different!" she hissed. "I wanted out. You dragged me back in."
"No," he said, stepping closer, voice cracked and low. "You let me drag you. And you liked it."
A moment passed. They stood face to face. Rage blurred with something rawer. Older. She looked away first. A few minutes later, Nathan put on his jacket, put his Laptop into his backpack, left her place and took a stroll into the City....gaving her a half smile before he left.
He hated that he still cared for her. That he still remembered how she looked at him before the first bloodbath. Before Aymeric. Before Dogtown. But that woman—she was a ghost now. Just like everything else.
Near Betty's Hotel - Coastview– Pacifica – 12:22 AM
Rita Wheeler leaned against a rain-slick pillar, Her bright pink hair buns and her synthetic skin reflected the puddles beside the pillar and the torn out couch on the ground, her bat slung across her back like a damn promise. A bunch of Moxies mosh-pitted next to a Growl Fm Van playing grungy latino punk music. The bouncer job at the Lizze's wasn't glamorous, but it paid, and it kept her close to the pulse of Night City's underbelly.
She saw Vincent coming to the party before he stepped out of the alley. Not because he was loud—he wasn't—but because he seem changed. Something inside him had snapped, and now he walked like a man trying to outrun his own shadow.
"Jesus, Vincent," she muttered. "You look like shit."
"Been hearing that a lot lately," he rasped.
She tossed him a can of half-finished beer. "Drink. You look like a dead man on loan."
He took it, nodded, unwrapped it with trembling hands. "Thanks, Wheeler."
"You're hurt," she said.
He looked down. The bandage from Melissa's backroom zipcut had come loose. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine, dumbass." She punched his shoulder—not hard, just enough to remind him she could. "You disappear for a week. Then show up acting like you're one step from flatlining. Talk to me."
"I'm not your responsibility."
"No, you're not. But you're my choomba, whether you deserve it or not. Gosh... I know it's cringe coming from me but whatever."
That landed. He chewed slower.
Rita leaned in, her eyes sharp. "You think nobody's paying attention, Vinne? I saw the net-surge last night. The shit you pulled—it's making ripples. Someone's going to trace that back to you."
"I'm counting on it," he said.
Rita stepped back, arms crossed. "You always were too smart to be this much of a fucking gonk."
He smiled. It was broken, but real.
"Let's hit up to Lizze's" Rita invited him.
"Aight then, let's go there, I could kill some time I guess, though I ain't got much left." he replied with a half-dead smile.
Melissa Cartwright's Surveillance Hub – Arasaka Sublevels – 1:04 AM
Melissa Cartwright watched from behind her desk, calm and calculating. Her fingers swiped through layers of Vincent's digital trail. Her trap was working. The Chimera Protocol Vincent pulled was spreading, just exactly going along to her plan, and the breadcrumb trail pointed exactly where she wanted it to.
She'd even let him think he'd planted it. Let him feel clever. Gave him the illusion of control. That was always the trick with men like Vincent—feed them just enough rope to feel empowered, and they'd hang themselves for you.
"You really thought I didn't see it?" she whispered to no one. "Poor bastard's running on fumes and spite."
Her agents were already in position, tracing his allies. Judy. Rogue. Aurore.
Melissa's smirk returned. "You think love is going to save you, Vincent? Let's see if it's the thing that kills you instead."
She clicked a holoswitch. Aurore Cassel's apartment came up on the screen. Infrared. Motion tracked, then it all got cutted out, Melissa smirks, Aurore wasn't an easy nut to crack.
Melissa leaned in, predatory. "Let's find out what's left of your heart."
Lizzie's – Back Room – 3:45 AM
Vincent sat with Rita again, patching up his now half-recovered bruises. She did it quietly, with chromed out hands rough from too many bar fights and too many nights holding back regret.
"You know," she said, taping the gauze, "I really do care."
"I know," he said. "And that's what makes it worse."
Rita didn't reply. Just stood up and walked out, leaving him alone with a bottle of filtered water and the sound of his own unraveling mind.
Night City – Skyline – 4:10 AM
Vincent stood on the roof of an abandoned building near Watson, staring down at the world. "Well aren't I fucking Batman?" he muttered to himself.
He didn't know what would come next. Maybe Melissa would win. Maybe she already had.
But the war was still on.
And he still had some fuels left to throw into the fire.
5:30 am
The sun rises.