Cyberpunk 2077 - Deathstroke
Michael was never anyone special. An IT tech. An introvert. A man who helped where he could and asked for little. When he died, he expected nothing — and instead found himself in a shop at the end of everything, holding sixty thousand karma points and a catalogue that could make him a god.
Superman cost millions. Magic, bloodlines, entire universes — all far beyond his means. But tucked in the listings, absurdly underpriced, sat a single template: **Deathstroke.** The world's perfect soldier, for a fraction of what such a thing should cost. He told himself it had to be a glitch. He bought it anyway.
He is reborn in **Night City** — decades before the neon-soaked future he dimly recalls from a game in a life that no longer exists. His father is a respected soldier of the 6th Street gang; his mother, a schoolteacher who prays her son will be more than the world around him. He grows up in a fierce, loving, dangerous found family of gang kids who become his brothers and sisters — through backyard dinners, schoolyard fights, and the quiet disappearances no one talks about.
And he grows up *gifted.* Impossibly gifted. Everyone assumes he was simply born to fight. No one guesses the truth — least of all Michael, now **Slade Wilson**, who wants no part of the legend forming around him. He refuses the cyberware that everyone else lets carve them hollow. He refuses to become a leader of men who kill for a living. He only wants to keep the people he loves safe.
But there is a reason that template was cheap. And in a city built to grind the humanity out of everyone in it, the hardest thing Slade will ever have to protect isn't his family, or the woman he never expected to love.
It's himself.
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Disclaimer: I do not own Cyberpunk 2077 (CD Projekt Red) or Deathstroke / Slade Wilson (DC Comics). All characters, settings, and concepts from those works belong to their respective owners. This is a non-commercial, fan-made work of fiction.
AI disclosure: This story is written with the assistance of AI.