n1ghtf4iry

[n1ghtf4iry]

[n1ghtf4iry]

ENTRY_01 // DATE: 202514

ENTRY_01 // DATE: 202514 ▰▰▰ Booting log... ▰▰▰ ☠ ACCESS GRANTED ☠

Well, here I am, making my first entry in this... virtual diary? Data log? Whatever. If you’re reading this, consider yourself lucky—because I don’t usually share my life with anyone... or so I thought.

See that gorgeous bald woman up there? Yeah, that’s me. Past me? Future me? Hell if I know. Time is a tangled mess, and I’m stuck somewhere in the middle.

▰▰ DATA LOG RECOVERED... ▰▰▰ ☠ DECRYPTING MEMORY FRAGMENT ☠

The year was 2088. Humanity had evolved—or rather, it had surrendered—to chrome. Flesh? A weakness to be erased. That was the mindset of my gang.

Yeah, I was in a gang (Can't tell you their name... but I know you'll figure out soon). Ugh, that sounds worse than I expected... Look, don’t judge me. I was just a young netrunner chasing a better life when they recruited me. Let me give you some context.

▰▰▰ LOADING ORIGIN STORY... ▰▰▰

My father? A worthless addict. His only loves were alcohol and those damn BDs. My mother? Never met her. Died shortly after I was dumped into this world.

The streets were my home, more or less. I knew a lot of people, but one of them changed everything—a back-alley ripperdoc who took me in, gave me work. Under his guidance, I learned about chrome, implants… even got a few lessons in tech. And that’s how I found my calling.

▰▰▰

I never wanted to be one of them. Never wanted the chrome-soaked life, the gang tags, the bloodstained money. But life doesn’t give you choices. It just waits for you to break.

My mentor—the old ripperdoc—was in deep debt with the kind of people who don’t do second chances. When they came knocking… ...I will never forget the first time I saw those red spider-eyes as they kicked in the door.

I did what any desperate idiot would do—I tried to hack them. Used every trick, every bit of code I had.

It didn’t do shit. If I tickled their systems, it was too much.

I was just a teenager with a half-assed cyberdeck, throwing weak signals at a pack of chrome-plated psychos. They didn’t even flinch. They just laughed—and made a point of finishing the old man off in the most “artistic” way possible.

That’s how they did things… Always putting on a show. Always making sure their message dripped in blood. And let me tell you—his blood? Made one hell of a paint job.

Then they turned to me. And instead of pulling the trigger, they smiled.

“Gutsy little thing. Smart, too. We could use someone like you.”

Like I had a choice.

▰▰▰ USER NOTE ▰▰▰

I never wanted to be one of them. But the streets don’t care what you want. Survival isn’t a choice. It’s a sentence. But man… I miss that old man so much… Too bad he thought he was smarter than the gang...

▰▰▰

They never saw me as a person. More like a stray mutt they picked up off the street—useless at first, but with enough training? Useful. Obedient. Deadly.

They taught me the ways of the true netrunners. How to tear through firewalls like wet paper, how to lace a simple script with enough death to take down a convoy. At first, I was starting to enjoy that. Learning the trade, staying useful. But then came the real test.

▰▰▰ THE INITIATION

A crowded street, faces I didn’t know, people just trying to live their lives. My task? Hack their neural links. Overclock their implants. Make their heads pop like popcorn.

I refused. They laughed. Said I had two choices—do it, or end up just like them. I hesitated. That was my mistake. One of them pulled up a random poor bastard on a holo-screen, grinned, and did the job for me. His head exploded in a shower of red. The message was clear.

''Do it, or you’re next.''

So I did. And I did it perfectly.

One by one, bodies hit the pavement. I felt sick. My head was on fire. I felt empty. And they cheered. Called it a “masterpiece.”

▰▰▰ UNSTABLE SYSTEM... ▰▰▰

▰▰▰ SYSTEM STABILIZING... ▰▰▰

Sorry, I wasn't ready to remember that day... That night, they celebrated my “victory.” The drinks, the synthetic highs, the bloodstained money thrown like confetti. It was a party in my honor. I didn’t feel like celebrating.

Then came the last step—my final reward. The infamous spider-eye implant. Hot red lenses to replace my human sight, the mark of the gang. My chains disguised as a gift.

They handed me the scalpel. Said I could choose—keep my old eyes, or “embrace the future.” Like I had a choice (again).

I took the knife and cut away my eyes. I was so high that the pain felt more like relief. I can’t remember what happened next.

That was my first implant… the most dramatic one. First of many. When I woke up, everything was bright and red, my sensors struggling to adjust to the room. And there they were—watching me, proud. Even the big boss was there, sitting by my side. Then he asked for my name. My rebirth, he called it. I thought about it. About what I’d lost. About what I had become

“N1ght,” I said.

Because after that day, there was nothing left of me but the dark.

☠ END OF RECORD ☠

▰▰▰ SYSTEM SHUTTING DOWN... ▰▰▰

[n1ghtf4iry]

Ghost in the Shell (1995)

[n1ghtf4iry]

The beauty of Cyberpunk 2077  ➞ Part 1

[n1ghtf4iry]

[n1ghtf4iry]

First post in Tumblr, yay!