The brightest star in the night sky—
—was the explosion.
Groggy moments ago, Vela jolted wide awake, sitting upright and staring out her floor-to-ceiling window.
Parts of the city had lost power, plunging into darkness. The sky was dyed red by fire. Falling armored AVs trailed sparks and lightning. Gunfire tore through the industrial zone. Guided missiles spiraled into the air from hidden corners...
A complex mix of emotions flashed across Vela's face—like a spinning statistical graph.
Terror attack?!
How... exhilaratingly… disappointing!
Beep-beep-beep... beep-beep-beep…
"Please be advised: RED ALERT activated. Johannesburg city public infrastructure is currently under large-scale terrorist attack. For your safety, remain in your room. Hotel security is working to ensure your—"
The AI's alert blared throughout the hotel tower.
Before Vela could even fully digest the situation—still wrapped in her robe, just reaching the window with a face of disbelief and mounting rage—
BOOOOM—!
From her vantage at the top of Johannesburg Grand Hotel, with far superior vision than any normal human, Vela saw it all with terrifying clarity.
Outside the city, between the central power station and the urban grid, high-voltage transmission towers lit up like fireballs. Steel frames warped and crumbled, devoured by smoke and shockwaves. Citywide power supply collapsed in an instant.
Only the hotel remained powered, thanks to its emergency generators and massive backup batteries.
"I am Vela Adelheid. Someone notify the Johannesburg Security Division—ready heavy munitions and assemble riot suppression teams!"
It took less than two seconds for Vela to regain her composure and start issuing orders. Beep beep—she opened the virtual grid screen from her ocular implant. The unread messages from earlier hadn't even been checked before new alerts popped up.
She scanned them: security reports from the Johannesburg branch, updates from the hotel, frantic pings from the industrial park—even a red-tagged emergency brief from the Intelligence Division.
She opened the latter.
The video was grainy and dark—footage of the firefight raging inside the industrial park.
The report made it clear: the attackers were from Militech. Even if not officially sanctioned, Militech was clearly involved. Arasaka's covert security forces on-site reported they could hold out no more than 15 minutes. The enemy had come prepared, equipped with military-grade heavy weapons, and their objective was obvious—the Sonnentreppe Flower and the related research.
[Acknowledged. Hold for 10 minutes.]
Beep. Sent.
Shff.
Vela moved as she typed—dropping her robe, quickly changing into high-mobility combat attire while continuing to respond and delegate tasks.
"Prep the AV. Use the hotel's most heavily armored model. Destination: Arasaka Industrial Park. Send the route to them and have them depart immediately. I'll rendezvous en route."
Hotel AI: "Notification delivered. Do you require—"
"Plot a direct path to the rooftop helipad."
From bed to the hallway in under a minute, Vela burst from her suite fully dressed for action.
Unfortunately, most of her custom war-grade gear was back in Night City.
After all, she'd come to Tokyo for study—not field duty. Carrying a full arsenal would've made no sense. She wasn't supposed to anticipate any of this. She had to appear reactive, not proactive.
And still, she had always sensed something coming. Something like this.
Who was behind the attack?
It certainly wasn't Saburo Arasaka. If it truly was Yorinobu pulling the strings... then he was playing a far more dangerous game than she'd estimated. In that case, maybe she'd underestimated him.
Thud-thud—
The corridor outside her room was already in chaos.
She couldn't tell if the people following her were hotel security or covert Arasaka agents from other departments. Not that it mattered—Vela had no time to distinguish. She stepped into a cleared direct-access elevator and swiftly led them up to the rooftop helipad.
An armored AV, courtesy of the hotel's security team, awaited her.
Vela boarded, wasting no words. "Industrial Park. Now."
Whoooosh…
The vector thrusters howled as the AV lifted off, accelerating toward the Arasaka Industrial Park.
Inside the cabin, as soon as she was seated, Vela grabbed the high-grade personal combat armor and weapons prepared by the hotel's security staff. The gear included thickened aramid combat attire, a double-plated ballistic vest tailored for female physiology, shoulder pads, knee guards, tactical boots, and a high-tech helmet.
Hm. A bit snug.
Standard issue—obviously not as comfortable as her custom kit. But it would have to do for tonight.
Weapons? Vela gave them a glance, then turned away with a sigh.
Hotel security—don't blame them. Their setups were defense-oriented: sentry turrets and mechs. These personal arms were too lightweight. Uninspiring. She'd wait until the Johannesburg branch comrades delivered something with punch.
"This one'll do."
She picked up a massive, rugged, budget-built 'Carnage' shotgun. Just then—beep beep!—a friendly comm channel lit up. "Supervisor Russell, we've arrived." Onscreen, three armored AVs streaked in from the Arasaka Johannesburg Tower.
"Good. Ready for transfer."
Compared to the hotel's ornate, defensive-focused vehicle, the security department's AVs were one size larger and bristling with exterior autocannons, missile pods, and decoy flares.
The AVs hovered side by side. As Vela prepared to leap mid-air into one of the combat models—
Beep beep beep! The AV's AI blared a warning.
"Shit! Ma'am—we're being targeted—!"
A nervous voice from one of the Arasaka soldiers. Their combat discipline clearly lagged behind her Night City subordinates.
Vela noted it silently. Then she moved.
"Got you."
BOOM! A loud crash.
With tremendous agility and balance, Vela launched herself from the AV's open hatch. Her body flipped mid-air, then twisted downward.
Legs extended. Muscles tightened. Ankles braced.
Wham!
Air shrieked as her leap sent shockwaves. Even the AV tilted slightly under the force. Golden hair flying, her silhouette streaked like a fired bolt.
At that very moment—whoosh!
From a darkened alley below, a guided missile streaked skyward, its glowing warhead arcing toward the airborne AV.
"It's that Night City bitch!"
Militech infiltrators, hiding in the shadows to sow chaos and intercept reinforcements, spotted Vela's descent.
"Blow it—now!"
Beside the missile operator, a spotter clutched a rangefinder. But—
"Hey, you—"
No response. The operator's cyber-eye flashed red. Sparks burst from the interface behind his ear. His anti-jamming chip had been breached.
By then, Vela had already reached the missile in mid-air.
She touched the warhead. A flick. A push. The guidance system failed. The terminal correction unit went unresponsive. The missile veered off and slammed into a nearby building—
BOOM! A wave of searing fire erupted.
It all happened in an instant.
Before the spotter could raise his weapon, Vela—shotgun in hand—descended like a javelin, her terrifying form nearly upon him.
"Sometimes, high intelligence is easier to crack than mechanical reflexes."
Her voice, cool as steel, pierced their psychological defenses like a bullet.
Physically, she did the same.
CLANG—BOOM!
The clash of metal echoed like thunder. The entire alley cracked open, fractured concrete walls splintering, dust billowing skyward. Even the metal dumpsters shook violently. Blood mist mixed with debris shrouded the scene, blotting out the view of nearby watchers.
"Kenneth?! You guys—"
Shattered rubble clattered to the ground. Perimeter infiltrators stared wide-eyed.
Through the smoke, a slim figure cloaked in black and gold rose slowly.
Expression cold, Vela pulled her foot free from the sticky remains underfoot.
Splut.
She glanced down. A mangled corpse with a bent, broken rocket launcher still clutched in hand. Shattered cyberware jutted out of the meat slurry. One half of the torso lay fused to a pool of blood. Muscle and subdermal armor were torn open, ribs cracked apart, a still-beating organ visible through the gore.
Bzzzt. Her cybernetic eyes flickered orange.
Intrusion. Quick hack. Target acquired.
Bang!
Gunfire split flesh. The already cracked ground sprouted another dozen smoking bullet holes.
Vela looked away. "Eight left. Standard combat squad. Hah—chasing me from North America to South Africa? I'm flattered."
Militech—old rivals.
She'd made her name in Night City. Half her accolades came from dismantling their operations.
"Bitch! Arasaka slut—"
From one alley corner, a hulking soldier raised his MA70HB light machine gun. He barely fired the first round before his optic was compromised. Not fully—just enough.
Thud!
He staggered and slammed into the wall. Skull first. Blood spattered.
Vela retracted her palm. Her other hand chambered a shell.
BOOM!
Point-blank shotgun blast to his torso. The man became paste.
"Gahhh—urk!!"
Another adversary lunged with twin mantis blades. Vela's punch shattered his abdominal armor and organs in one brutal impact.
She tore through the infiltrators like the scythe of death—ripping into them with savage elegance, screams and curses fading into a silence stained by shredded meat.
Bzzzzzt...
Less than thirty seconds.
"Johannesburg branch, this is Vela Adelheid. Coordinates of several hostiles have been decoded and uploaded. Forget the explosion zones—don't let them dictate the fight. Pursue their infiltration units. Inflict maximum casualties. We cannot let them get away with a clean hit-and-run."
"Riot-control teams, with me. We're continuing to the Industrial Park."
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