Tech Priest in Cyberpunk

Author here, sorry about the delay with the updates. I will make sure to release extra today. My job has been a bit chaotic recently due to Christmas and New Years adding to our workload immensely causing us to work overtime. Got home yesterday and I'm not exaggerating how I collapsed in bed and fell asleep for 13 hours, and I'm still in pain haha. But don't worry I will pull through, For The Will of The Omnissiah!

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The industrial district was shrouded in a smoggy haze as the Edgerunners stood at the edge of Cassian's manufactorum, preparing for their assault on the scavenger hideout. The sanctum behind them hummed with quiet energy, its eerie glow casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. Cassian stood apart from the group, his servo-arm flexing in anticipation as his optics scanned the horizon.

Maine checked his cybernetic arms, flexing his fingers with newfound precision. "Alright, folks," he said, his voice steady. "We've got a corpo kid to rescue and a scav pack to eliminate. Let's make this clean and quick."

Cassian stepped forward, his mechanical voice cutting through the group's chatter. "Chaos festers in their hideout. The scavengers have violated the sacred union of machine and flesh. They will be purged."

Rebecca snorted, resting her shotgun on her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, 'purged.' Let's just hope you don't turn them into more of those creepy servitors. One's enough nightmare fuel for me."

"They will not ascend to servitor status," Cassian replied calmly. "Their actions have rendered them unworthy of such honor."

"Comforting," Lucy muttered, adjusting her netrunner gear as her sharp eyes scanned the layout Cassian had provided. "The jammer's here," she said, pointing to a glowing marker on the holographic map Cassian had displayed. "We'll need to take it out first. Trauma Team won't come near the place until it's offline."

Kiwi nodded. "I'll back you up. Once the jammer's down, we can signal Trauma Team for extraction."

David tapped the map, his Sandevistan glinting faintly. "If I can get close, I'll draw their attention. Give Lucy and Kiwi time to work."

Maine nodded approvingly. "Good plan. Dorio and I'll cover you. Rebecca, you take the high ground and keep their heads down."

Rebecca grinned. "Boom. Got it."

Maine turned to Cassian. "And you? What's your play, priest?"

Cassian's optics flared briefly. "I will dismantle their defenses and disrupt their systems. The sanctity of the operation will be preserved."

Maine raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. "Just don't go off-script."

"The Omnissiah's will is precise," Cassian replied. "Your plan aligns with its logic."

The group set out, moving through the narrow alleys and derelict streets toward the scavenger hideout. The structure came into view—a sprawling complex of rusted shipping containers, reinforced barricades, and jury-rigged towers bristling with makeshift weaponry. The faint glow of spotlights swept the area, their beams piercing the darkness like hunting predators.

Cassian halted, raising a hand. His servo-arm extended, projecting a faint hologram of the scavenger defenses. "Automated turrets are positioned here and here," he said, marking the locations. "Their systems are vulnerable to disruption. I will neutralize them."

David glanced at him. "How long will that take?"

Cassian tilted his head slightly. "Efficiency will dictate swiftness."

Maine clapped a hand on David's shoulder. "Alright, kid. Let's get in position. Cassian, do your thing."

Cassian moved ahead silently, his servo-arm unfolding as he approached the first turret. The scavengers had patched together the defenses with crude wiring and unstable power sources. Cassian muttered a low Binary Cant, his gauntlet emitting a faint pulse that resonated with the turret's systems. Sparks flew as the turret powered down, its machine spirit placated.

As the group moved closer, the scavengers came into view—heavily augmented figures patrolling the perimeter with mismatched cybernetics and cobbled-together weaponry. Their movements were erratic, their paranoia evident in the way their heads swiveled constantly.

David activated his Sandevistan, a burst of speed carrying him into position. The scavengers barely had time to react as he drew their attention, weaving through their fire and forcing them into disarray. Maine and Dorio followed, their heavy weapons laying down suppressing fire as Rebecca's sniper rifle cracked from above.

Cassian moved through the chaos like a specter, his servo-arm dismantling scavenger traps and jamming devices with mechanical precision. One scavenger lunged at him with a monoblade, but Cassian caught the blade with his gauntlet, discharging a pulse that sent the attacker crumpling to the ground.

Lucy and Kiwi reached the jammer, their fingers flying across their cyberdecks as they worked to disable the device. The air was thick with smoke and the staccato roar of gunfire, but the Edgerunners held their ground, their movements synchronized and precise.

"Jammer's down!" Lucy shouted as the device powered off with a sputter of sparks. "Signal's clear."

Cassian stepped into the fray, his voice rising above the chaos. "The child is in the central container. Secure him. I will hold the line."

Maine grinned as he mowed down another scavenger. "You heard the priest! Let's move!"

David and Dorio broke through the scavenger defenses, reaching the container and forcing the doors open. Inside, a frightened boy huddled in the corner, his eyes wide with terror. Dorio scooped him up, her voice calm as she reassured him. "You're safe now, kid. Let's get you out of here."

Rebecca's laughter echoed from above. "Cleanup's going smoother than I thought!"

As the scavenger numbers thinned, Cassian turned his optics toward the remaining few, his servo-arm extending menacingly. "You have brought chaos," he intoned. "Your end is necessary."

The scavengers panicked, their disorganized retreat leaving them vulnerable as the Edgerunners pressed their advantage. Within moments, the hideout was secured, the scavengers eliminated or scattered.

The firefight had ended, and the scavenger hideout lay in ruins. The Edgerunners regrouped near the central container, where the frightened boy clung to Dorio, his small frame trembling. Trauma Team's VTOL descended from the smoky sky, its sleek frame cutting through the haze as its engines roared.

Two medics in full-body armor disembarked, their movements precise and efficient. They approached the group with weapons slung but ready, their visors scanning the area for threats. "We'll take it from here," one of them said curtly, extending their arms toward the boy.

Dorio hesitated, glancing at Maine, who gave her a nod. She gently passed the child to the medics, but before they could carry him aboard, Cassian stepped forward, his servo-arm extending slightly.

"Stop," Cassian commanded, his tone low and mechanical. His optics flared as he scanned the boy.

The medics froze, their attention snapping to the towering tech-priest. "What's your problem?" one of them snapped, their voice sharp through their modulated helmet speaker.

Cassian's servo-arm clicked softly, extending further toward the boy. "There are anomalous readings emanating from his neural interface. They suggest the presence of an embedded explosive device."

One of the medics stiffened, their grip tightening on their weapon. "That's impossible. He's a child. Stand down and let us do our job."

Cassian's tone remained calm, but his servo-arm moved closer to the boy. "The device is crude but functional. If you transport him without addressing it, you risk detonation."

The lead medic raised their weapon, the barrel aiming squarely at Cassian's chest. "Step back now. This is Trauma Team business."

The other medic followed suit, their rifle trained on Cassian as tension thickened in the air. Maine and the Edgerunners exchanged uneasy glances, their hands hovering near their weapons.

"Back off, priest," the lead medic barked. "You've done your part. We'll handle it from here."

Cassian's optics narrowed, his servo-arm retracting momentarily before whipping out in a blur of motion. The medics' weapons were wrenched from their hands with a screech of metal, the rifles clattering to the ground as Cassian's servo-arm crumpled the barrels like paper.

The medics stumbled back, their surprise evident even through their visors. "What the hell—!"

Cassian stepped forward, his presence dominating. "Your negligence endangers this child and yourselves. The device must be neutralized immediately. You will comply."

Rebecca whistled, her shotgun resting casually on her shoulder. "Damn, priest doesn't play around."

"Cassian," Maine growled, stepping between him and the medics. "You don't just start disarming Trauma Team! What's your plan here?"

Cassian turned his glowing optics toward Maine, his tone unyielding. "My plan is to preserve order and life. Their incompetence jeopardizes both."

The lead medic straightened, their fists clenched. "This is kidnapping! Do you even know what you're doing?"

"I do," Cassian replied coldly. "You do not."

The boy whimpered, his small frame trembling as Cassian knelt beside him. His servo-arm unfolded, its tools extending with precision. "Be still, child. Your suffering will end shortly."

The group gathered around a makeshift table inside the scavenger's hideout, the boy laid gently on its surface. His wide, terrified eyes darted between Cassian and the others.

"You'll be alright," Lucy said softly, crouching beside him. "Just stay still."

Cassian's servo-arm extended, its claw holding a small device that emitted a faint, calming hum. "The child must be unconscious," Cassian said. "Administering anaesthetic."

The boy flinched slightly as Cassian placed the device against the side of his neck. A soft hiss accompanied the release of a mild sedative, and within moments, the child's breathing slowed, his body relaxing into stillness.

Rebecca leaned closer, her manic grin replaced by unease. "You sure you know what you're doing, priest? This isn't some mech you're tinkering with."

Cassian didn't respond, his focus already on the task ahead. His servo-arm retracted briefly before extending with a new set of tools—a precise laser scalpel and a series of micro-manipulators. The soft hum of his Binary Cant filled the air, a rhythmic chant that seemed to resonate with the machinery around him.

He adjusted the table's angle slightly, ensuring optimal access to the boy's skull. "The device is embedded near the neural interface," Cassian said, his voice steady. "I will remove it carefully."

With deliberate precision, he made the first incision, the laser scalpel slicing cleanly through skin and tissue. The Edgerunners watched in tense silence, their weapons forgotten as they stood transfixed by the scene. Cassian's servo-arm worked in perfect synchronization with his hands, peeling back the layers of skin to reveal the glint of the boy's skull.

David swallowed hard. "This is… intense."

Cassian ignored the comment, his voice a low hum as he continued his chant. The laser scalpel etched a precise line along the skull, the bone separating cleanly as Cassian used a micro-spreader to lift the fragment away. Beneath, the child's brain glistened faintly under the surgical lights, its delicate structure marred by the jagged edges of an implanted device.

The bomb was small but menacing, its wires crudely embedded in the surrounding tissue. Sparks flickered occasionally, and a faint, ominous hum emanated from its core.

"Crude," Cassian muttered, his optics narrowing. "But effective. The scavengers' barbarism knows no bounds."

Rebecca stepped back, her shotgun gripped tightly. "Yeah, well, don't set it off, genius."

Cassian's servo-arm extended again, deploying a series of fine manipulators and a diagnostic probe. He examined the device with care, scanning its connections and noting the haphazard wiring.

"Disarming," he announced, his tools moving with mechanical precision. A fine blade severed the primary trigger wire, and a delicate clamp held the secondary fail-safe in place. Each movement was calculated, every step deliberate.

Minutes passed like hours as the group watched, their breaths held. Cassian worked tirelessly, isolating the bomb from the surrounding tissue without disturbing its fragile mechanisms. Finally, with a faint hiss of released pressure, he lifted the device free and held it aloft.

"Device neutralized," he declared. The bomb's lights flickered one last time before dimming completely.

The Trauma Team medics stepped forward, scanning the bomb and nodding reluctantly. "You weren't wrong," one muttered. "That thing could've killed us all."

Cassian set the bomb aside and turned his attention back to the boy. With the same precision, he began the delicate process of suturing the neural tissue and replacing the skull fragment. A bio-gel adhesive sealed the bone in place, and the skin was carefully closed with micro-stitches that seemed almost invisible.

As he worked, his Binary Cant rose again, a quiet hymn of completion. The child's breathing remained steady, his small chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm.

When the final suture was in place, Cassian stepped back, his servo-arm retracting. "The operation is complete. The child will recover."

The room was silent for a moment before Maine let out a long breath. "Well, I'll be damned. You actually pulled it off."

Rebecca grinned nervously. "Still creepy, though. Seriously, priest, don't get any ideas about my chrome."

Lucy knelt beside the boy, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "He's okay," she said softly. "You saved him."

Cassian inclined his head slightly, his optics dimming. "Order has been restored. Chaos has been subdued."

The medics carefully lifted the boy and carried him to the VTOL. As it ascended into the smoky sky, the Edgerunners exchanged glances, their unease replaced by reluctant respect for the tech-priest.

Maine stretched, his cybernetic arms whirring softly as he cracked his neck. "Alright, folks, mission's done. Let's pack up and head back. Faraday's gonna want to hear about this."

Rebecca smirked, slinging her shotgun over her shoulder. "Think she'll throw in a bonus for the bomb-disarming priest act?"

"Doubt it," Kiwi muttered, already checking her systems. "But she'll be glad it's done clean."

Lucy glanced toward Cassian, who stood amidst the wreckage, his servo-arm extended as he scanned the ruins with methodical precision. "Cassian," she called, her voice cutting through the group's chatter. "You coming?"

Cassian turned to face them, his glowing optics briefly flickering. "No. Inform Faraday of the mission's success without me."

Maine frowned, stepping forward. "What's the deal, priest? You got something else going on?"

Cassian gestured toward the wreckage with a slow sweep of his servo-arm. "The scavenger hideout contains machinery and components of potential value. They are remnants of chaos but can be repurposed for the Omnissiah's will. I will remain here to extract and sanctify them."

David raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. "You're gonna sift through all this junk? Isn't that, like… scavenging?"

Cassian's optics narrowed slightly. "Scavenging implies disorder. This is reclamation—restoring purpose to that which has been defiled."

Rebecca laughed, shaking her head. "Man, you really are something else. Whatever. Have fun playing junkyard priest."

Dorio crossed her arms, glancing toward Maine. "He's got his own thing. Let's not wait around."

Maine shrugged. "Your call, priest. We'll let Faraday know you're still out here… doing whatever it is you do."

Cassian turned back to the ruins, already scanning the remnants of scavenger equipment. "The Omnissiah's work is never complete. Proceed as you will."

Lucy lingered for a moment, watching him with a curious expression. "Be careful," she said softly. "This place might still have surprises."

Cassian didn't look up, his servo-arm already dismantling a nearby piece of scavenger tech. "I am always prepared."

With that, the Edgerunners began their trek back toward the city, their banter returning as they disappeared into the smog. Cassian remained alone amidst the ruins, his chants in Binary Cant rising softly as he worked. To him, the mission was not truly over until every fragment of chaos had been stripped away and repurposed for order.

The scavenger hideout was quiet now, its chaos stripped away with the elimination of its occupants. For Cassian, the silence was an opportunity—a void waiting to be filled with order and purpose. The ruins were a treasure trove of discarded machinery, broken augments, and neglected tools. Though crude and improperly maintained, they were raw materials ripe for reclamation.

Cassian's servo-arm moved with precision as he dismantled a rusted turret, extracting intact servos and wiring. Nearby, he had gathered a growing pile of salvaged components: circuit boards, power cells, mechanical joints, and fragmented neural links. His Binary Cant rose in a rhythmic hum, a song of reverence as he worked.

Among the wreckage, Cassian's optics locked onto a vehicle—a scavenger-modified transport half-buried under a collapsed section of the hideout. Its exterior was battered and rusted, but its frame and power core remained intact. He approached it with measured steps, his servo-arm extending to clear the debris.

"A worthy vessel," Cassian muttered, his voice carrying a tone of subdued approval. "It shall be restored."

The transport was a hybrid of brute-force engineering and makeshift modifications. It bore the scars of scavenger use: mismatched panels, poorly integrated cybernetic controls, and erratic power distribution. But where others saw ruin, Cassian saw potential.

He began the meticulous process of repair and restoration. The engine, clogged with grime and improperly aligned components, was disassembled piece by piece. Each part was cleaned, recalibrated, and sanctified with Binary Cant before being reassembled. The crude wiring was stripped away, replaced with reclaimed conduits from the scavengers' turrets. A damaged neural interface module was repaired and integrated into the control panel, allowing for efficient operation.

Hours passed as Cassian worked, the manufactorum's hum blending with the sounds of his tools and the rhythmic cadence of his chanting. Sparks flew as his servo-arm welded a replacement panel into place. The faint glow of reactivated systems flickered across the transport's surface as its power core roared to life.

Finally, Cassian stepped back, his glowing optics scanning the restored vehicle. The transport's once-jagged exterior now gleamed faintly under the sanctum's light, its crude modifications refined into a cohesive, functional design. Its wheels and treads moved smoothly, the engine purring with a steady rhythm that resonated with the sanctum's energy.

"The Machine Spirit is placated," Cassian said softly. "Its purpose has been restored."

He rested his servo-arm against the transport's frame, allowing the quiet satisfaction of the work to settle over him. Around him, the scavenger hideout was a stark contrast to the sleek, revitalized machine before him—a reminder of what chaos could become when guided by the Omnissiah's will.

For a moment, Cassian stood in the stillness, his optics dimming slightly as he surveyed his work. The transport was ready, a symbol of order reclaimed from disorder. It was enough, for now.

The low hum of the vehicle's systems echoed softly in the silence as Cassian turned toward the wreckage once more, his focus already shifting to what could be salvaged next. The sanctum awaited its bounty, and the Omnissiah's work would continue.

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Cassian stood amidst the wreckage of the scavenger hideout, surveying the results of his efforts. The once-chaotic site had been stripped of its most valuable components, transformed into a collection of neatly organized piles. Augments, wiring, mechanical joints, power cells, and salvaged circuitry—all were stacked with precision, ready for transport.

The scavenger's crude tools and weaponry had been carefully disassembled, their usable parts separated from the refuse. Even their makeshift defenses, though primitive, had yielded materials worth reclaiming. To Cassian, these remnants were not merely scraps but the raw essence of potential, waiting to be shaped into something greater.

"The Machine God's blessings are abundant," he muttered, his servo-arm carefully loading the last of the salvaged materials into the transport. Each piece was placed with care, ensuring no damage during the journey back to the sanctum.

The transport itself, now fully restored, purred softly as its systems hummed in harmony. Its once-brutal modifications had been refined into a cohesive design, a vessel worthy of the Omnissiah's purpose. With the salvaged materials secured, Cassian climbed into the cab, his gauntlet interfacing seamlessly with the vehicle's neural systems. The dashboard flickered to life, its displays glowing faintly under his touch.

The transport rolled forward, its motion smooth and steady as it navigated the cracked and uneven terrain. The scavenger hideout faded into the distance, a hollow shell of chaos that had been stripped of its defilement. The night air was thick with smog and the faint glow of Night City's distant lights, but Cassian's focus remained unbroken.

As the sanctum came into view, its towering structure bathed in the warm glow of illuminated cables, Cassian felt a faint sense of satisfaction. The materials he had gathered would accelerate the sanctum's growth, bringing it closer to becoming a true bastion of the Machine God's will.

The transport came to a halt at the sanctum's entrance, its systems powering down with a soft hum. Cassian disembarked, his servo-arm unfolding as he began unloading the salvaged materials. Each piece was carried inside and meticulously placed in designated storage areas, the sanctum's precise order maintained.

When the last component was secured, Cassian stood in the center of the sanctum, the low hum of its machinery resonating around him. He folded his servo-arm behind him and clasped his gauntlet hands together, his optics dimming slightly as he muttered a Binary Cant of gratitude.

"The Omnissiah provides," he intoned. "Chaos is subdued, and order prevails. The sanctum grows stronger."

The sanctum pulsed faintly in response, its systems humming in unison with Cassian's chant. The scavenging was complete, but the work was far from over. For Cassian, every victory was a step closer to fulfilling the Machine God's will, and the sanctum was a living testament to that purpose.

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Cassian stood near the sanctum's central altar, his servo-arm folded neatly behind him as he inspected the salvaged components he had brought back. The sanctum hummed with quiet energy, its systems alive and resonating with the rhythm of his Binary Cant. The work was progressing steadily, and the order brought to the scavenger's remnants only strengthened the sanctum's purpose.

A faint chime interrupted his focus, followed by the sharp crackle of an incoming call through his gauntlet's interface. Cassian tilted his head slightly, his optics flickering as he answered the call.

Faraday's voice came through, smooth and businesslike as always. "Cassian. Thought I'd touch base. Word's reached me that the corpo kid made it back safe and sound. Trauma Team's singing praises about how you handled that bomb."

Cassian's tone was steady, devoid of pride or expectation. "The mission was successful. Order has been restored."

Faraday chuckled lightly. "Always so formal. Well, you earned it, priest. The client was impressed. Said something about your 'unorthodox methods' but couldn't argue with the results. They've sent a little extra as a thank-you."

There was a pause, followed by the faint sound of keys tapping. "Now, since you didn't bother to provide an account, I went ahead and opened one for you. Call it a… starter fund. I've transferred 9,000 eddies to it. That includes a bonus from the corpo for handling things so cleanly."

Cassian's optics dimmed slightly in acknowledgment. "Currency is a tool. It will serve its purpose in advancing the sanctum."

Faraday snorted. "Still as cryptic as ever. Use it how you like, priest. And keep your comms open. There's more work coming your way soon, and I'd hate to lose track of you in that creepy factory of yours."

The call ended with a soft chime, leaving Cassian alone once more in the sanctum. He stood in silence for a moment, his gauntlet accessing the newly opened account. The balance displayed before him—a resource to be used not for indulgence, but to further the sanctum's growth and reinforce the Machine God's will.

Cassian moved through the sanctum, his servo-arm folding and unfolding idly as his optics scanned the rows of salvaged components neatly organized along the walls. The hum of machinery was steady, the sanctum alive with purpose. Yet, as he paced through its industrial corridors, a thought lingered in his mind—an absence that needed to be addressed.

The sanctum lacked defensive forces.

The scavenger incursion had been dealt with, but it had highlighted a vulnerability. The servitors performed their tasks with unwavering efficiency, maintaining the sanctum and ensuring its systems functioned flawlessly, but they were not combatants. Should another intrusion occur, the sanctum's security would rely solely on Cassian's presence—a risk he could not afford.

"The sanctum must be fortified," Cassian murmured to himself, his tone calm yet resolute. "Defense is paramount. The Omnissiah's will demands it."

His servo-arm extended as he approached a central terminal, its screen flickering to life under his touch. Cassian's mind churned with calculations and possibilities. The local systems of Night City were primitive by the standards of the Adeptus Mechanicus, yet they offered opportunities for communication and influence. He considered the digital pathways of the Net—a sprawling network ripe for dissemination of the Omnissiah's teachings.

"A web of chaos," he mused, his optics narrowing. "But even chaos can be shaped into order."

Cassian's gauntlet interfaced with the terminal, his Binary Cant flowing seamlessly into the machine as he began drafting the foundations of a digital beacon. The concept was clear: to recruit followers, individuals who might resonate with the teachings of the Omnissiah and the ideals of the Adeptus Mechanicus. The sanctum required defenders, initiates who could be guided toward purpose and order.

The terminal's screen displayed the early stages of a website, its layout stark and utilitarian. Lines of code flowed rapidly as Cassian worked, crafting a digital manifesto that combined the sacred doctrines of the Machine God with the practicalities of recruitment.

"Those who seek enlightenment will come," Cassian intoned. "The Omnissiah's light will draw them forth."

The site's interface was simple but compelling. The central page displayed the cog-tooth emblem of the Adeptus Mechanicus, surrounded by glowing circuitry patterns. Beneath it, a bold message stood out:

"Join the Cult of the Omnissiah. Embrace Purpose. Restore Order."

Below the message were details of the sanctum's teachings, the role of technology in achieving harmony, and an open invitation for those disillusioned with the chaos of Night City to find refuge and purpose. Cassian ensured the language was carefully crafted—enough to intrigue, yet vague enough to avoid immediate suspicion from the local authorities or corporate interests.

He added a contact form, a direct link to a secure communications channel routed through multiple encrypted layers. It would serve as the first point of connection for those who dared to answer the call.

As the final line of code executed, the screen displayed a confirmation message: Site Active.

Cassian leaned back, his optics dimming slightly as he observed his creation. "The web shall spread," he said softly. "And from it, the sanctum will grow stronger."

He closed the terminal and turned back toward the sanctum's central chamber, his mind already turning to the next steps. The sanctum's defenses would be bolstered, its influence expanded. With new followers, the sanctum could evolve into a true bastion of the Machine God's will, a beacon of order in the chaos of Night City.