Control your movement using the WASD or Arrow keys, and press Space to unleash a force blast in the direction you're facing.
The air in the cargo hold was always the same—stale, metallic, with the faint ozone tang of suppressed energy weapons. Another day, another cred. The transfer to the dead-drop had gone smooth, too smooth maybe. I was just cracking the seal on a synth-whiskey back in my crib when the world glitched. Not the usual data-ghost flicker you see after too many hours in the net, this was different. This was a hard, cold seizure of my neural port. Felt like an ice pick driven straight into my cortex. Last thing I saw before the lights went out was the Militech logo burning behind my eyes, a brand of corporate betrayal. Woke up here. Wherever "here" is. It's a perfect loop, a prison made of memory and code. The same damn street, the same fixer giving me the same damn job, over and over. But something's off. I've run the loop so many times I can see the seams in this reality, tiny fractures in the simulation. They think they can keep me here, just another ghost in their machine, a asset on ice. They're wrong. I didn't survive the streets of Night City by playing by their rules. I can feel it, a real glitch in the code, a way out. I'm punching through. This is V. And I'm going home.
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