Omake — Inception (Part 2)

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Mikhail paused briefly, his gaze lingering on the family photo before discreetly inserting a chip into his computer's port. The ice protecting the corporate internal tech was weak, easily bypassed once inside the local network. Biotech's security system was carelessly built. Though Hirako was a formidable netrunner, the moment they initiated their sabotage, the defenses would kick in at full strength. They'd have exactly one hour before the corporation realized they'd been double-crossed.

As the virus infiltrated the system, Mikhail exhaled and began dressing hastily, checking his pockets on the go, particularly for the pack of potent stimulants once used on soldiers during the last conflict. The stuff was incredibly expensive and powerful—capable of pushing the human nervous system and perception to the point where one could track a bullet in flight. The downside, however, was severe. Even if the body survived, the brain could easily burn out.

Mikhail's first priority was to retrieve a working version of the drug, which was among the rejected samples. The surveillance cameras in the storage room had been hacked, displaying a looped image. He moved quickly, knowing he needed to act before they were discovered. The scanner's sensor had been hacked and discreetly disconnected from the main network, allowing him to enter the room unnoticed.

"Here it is… Gotcha, baby," he muttered, grabbing a small metal cylinder marked F.V.S. 129 (Failed Vaccine Sample) and carefully replacing it with another containing ordinary blood plasma. "Done…"

After erasing all traces of his tampering, Mikhail shook off the hair that had stuck to his forehead and shivered at the cold touch of metal against his warm skin. The lost limb from the war still haunted him. The implant was top-notch, but no piece of metal could replace a real hand. Mikhail couldn't understand the madness driving people to cybernetize their bodies, replacing flesh with cold steel that would inevitably fail—causing either immense pain or, worse, death.

Outgoing Audio Call - Hirako Volkova (Beloved)

Call Accepted - Establishing Connection

"Are you ready for me to pick you up?" Mikhail asked, leaning against his worktable with a hand to his ear.

"Of course, I managed to get ready," the woman replied, her voice hinting at a slight quiver as she barely suppressed the tremor in her tone.

"Good. I'll meet you by the checkpoint." Mikhail ended the call, clenching his hand as he opened a hidden compartment inside his cybernetic limb. Carefully placing the vial inside, he folded his fingers in a unique pattern, sealing the compartment from prying eyes.

Call Ended - Connection Terminated

Shaking his hand, the scientist cast one last glance around his office, his eyes lingering on the family photo. To the surprise of his colleagues, he hadn't opted for a holographic image but instead had chosen an old-fashioned photograph encased in a wooden frame. Many couldn't understand Volkova's affection for these "ancient" traditions, but Mikhail held a different view.

Approaching the frame, he lovingly ran his real hand over the simple glass. The photo had been taken five years ago in front of Biotech Corporation. It was around that time that the young scientist couple began to realize they had walked into a massive trap that was slowly closing in on them. Mikhail's hand trembled, and the photograph slipped from his grasp, falling to the floor. The fragile glass shattered into a web of cracks, causing the scientist to freeze unexpectedly as he tried to pick up the frame.

"A bad omen," he muttered, pressing his lips together as he carefully lifted the photo and placed it back on the table.

***

Not lingering any longer, Mikhail sighed heavily and slowly made his way to the first checkpoint. By now, the virus should have deeply infiltrated the system, allowing him to steal the vial without any difficulty. As he approached the first checkpoint, Mikhail took a deep breath and walked stiffly through the scanner arch, dreading the sound of an alarm. To his relief, nothing happened, and he continued on his way.

"Hey, Misha, heading home already? Did they let you off early?" called out a familiar guard, who was on duty for the day shift.

"Yeah," Mikhail replied, awkwardly ruffling his hair in an attempt to calm his nerves. "The boss decided to give me a day off to rest." He forced a smile. "Listen, Robert, can we chat later? My wife's waiting for me, and I'm not feeling too well." Mikhail was eager to shake off the chatty guard who had decided to entertain himself with a casual conversation.

"Sorry, chum, I won't keep you. You don't look so great — maybe you should see the doc before you go?" the guard suggested, concerned for his friend's health.

"Just tired. A good night's sleep will do the trick," Mikhail shook his head. "Thanks for the concern, Rob, but Hirako's waiting for me." His tone carried a hint.

"Alright, chum, take care," Robert waved him off, his attention returning to the monitor screen.

The second checkpoint was less of an issue. The guard there was a particularly unsociable guy who silently waved Mikhail through without holding him up any longer than necessary. Grateful for his luck, Mikhail turned toward the final checkpoint, which led out of the complex and connected to the open parking lot. His car was parked there, ready to whisk him away from this place as quickly as possible.

"Did someone hold you up?" Hirako leaned against the wall, patiently waiting for her husband.

"Sorry, dear, Robert turned out to be unusually chatty today," Mikhail smiled, greeting his wife with a kiss.

"Well, he is quite the talker," the brunette replied, covering her smile with her hand.

Mikhail shrugged and silently headed toward the last checkpoint, humming one of the old songs that the local youth probably hadn't even heard of. The younger generation's obsession with electronic music was growing by the day, and in another five years, it would likely push other genres into the background, taking the lead.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Volkova. I've been informed that you've been granted a day off, so please hand over your access cards," the head of security extended his hand, waiting for them to hand over the small plastic squares. He spoke in Japanese, but the translator chip handled the task efficiently. However, it couldn't help with the pronunciation of names and surnames — those had to be said manually. Despite several years, Yuichiro still hadn't mastered pronouncing Mikhail's last name correctly, but there was noticeable improvement.

"Thank you for your service, Yuichiro-san." Mikhail bowed respectfully, following the customs of the Land of the Rising Sun, earning the respect of the disciplined head of security. A former employee of Arasaka Corporation, Yuichiro had been raised with strict manners, and the local lifestyle weighed heavily on him. Meanwhile, Volkova calmly handed over the piece of plastic, passing through the final security checkpoint without a fuss.

"Hirako-san, I wish you a pleasant rest with your husband," Yuichiro said, bowing as he addressed her in his native language.

"Thank you, Yuichiro-san," Hirako replied with a respectful nod before calmly walking through the scanner arch, pausing briefly. The security at this point was much stronger, forcing her to speed up the virus deployment while standing near the security post. In hindsight, it was fortunate that Robert had delayed her husband—it had bought them just enough time.

"Let's go, dear. Alex is probably getting bored without us," Mikhail said, offering his hand to his wife as they headed toward the car together. On the way, Volkova quickly sent a message to the Delamain transportation network to arrange a ride, ensuring no time was wasted.

The young couple moved without making any sudden movements, striving to act naturally. The society they grew up in and the challenging situations they had faced allowed them to keep their composure, avoiding suspicion from those around them. Silently, they got into the car and left the Biotech Corporation headquarters, heading toward Charter Hill.

Charter Hill was one of the most prestigious areas in all of Night City. It was relatively safe and, most importantly, clean — unlike other parts of the city where chaos reigned. Litter strewn everywhere, rampant crime, and gangs of various levels were the least of the dangers that an unwary resident might encounter in the city's less fortunate districts.

The couple remained silent throughout the drive, fearing that even now they might be under close surveillance. Their home was safer in that regard, though it depended on how you looked at it. The massive megatower where Hirako and Mikhail lived was also one big trap. If something unexpected were to happen, Biotech would immediately lock down all the entrances and exits, so they had to move quickly. The virus had bought them enough time, but they couldn't rely on it any longer.

"We need to hurry — they've probably started to suspect something by now," Mikhail, the former soldier, wasted no time heading to the elevator, pressing the button for their floor. It seemed as though the cursed mechanism was mocking them, deliberately ascending at a snail's pace to the 27th level, where the young couple's apartment was located.

"Finally," Hirako exhaled loudly as she was the first to exit the cramped elevator, quickly making her way toward their apartment. Reaching the door, she placed her hand on the fingerprint scanner. After a few seconds, the metal door obediently slid open, allowing the Japanese woman inside. Mikhail followed closely behind his wife, cautiously glancing around. His paranoia was in full swing, and the former soldier, now a biologist, meticulously scanned every corner, fearing someone might be lurking.

"Mama, Papa!" A small child ran joyfully toward his parents.

"Sweetheart!" Hirako smiled and scooped her son up into her arms, holding him close.

"We don't have much time." Mikhail took a deep breath and revealed the vial he had been hiding in his hand. "I need to make a few adjustments, and then we can leave the city. I'm afraid we don't have any more time to waste," he shook his head, his voice heavy with urgency.

"We've bought enough time as it is. Now we should make the most of these remaining moments of peace," Hirako replied, shifting her child comfortably in her arms while watching her husband retrieve a pistol loaded with a tranquilizer ampoule.

Mikhail didn't hesitate long and injected the drug into their son. It was safer this way for everyone, especially for the father. A potential shootout lay ahead, and Mikhail wanted to spare his son from any traumatic experiences.

"I'll need a few minutes to prepare the vaccine for our son. Please stay with him while I finish my work." Mikhail offered a weary smile before heading straight to his small laboratory. He often used this space for minor experiments, occasionally involving his son, who was very curious and loved spending time with his father, who was often away at work until late in the evening.

"Misha, don't rush. Distractions could prevent you from focusing," Hirako offered her husband a gentle smile, stroking the sleeping child in her lap.

"You're right, I need to calm down. Rushing could do more harm than good," Mikhail agreed, feeling more composed. "Let's begin." He placed the ampoule in the biological analyzer, took a deep breath, and input a series of commands, inserting the vial containing Alex's blood into another slot.

"Beginning compatibility analysis, estimated time: two minutes and thirty-one seconds," the synthesized voice of the machine announced.

The wait didn't last long, and after a couple of minutes, the analyzer beeped, signaling that the process was complete. Mikhail studied the data, momentarily stunned, as he analyzed the graphs and summaries, his brow furrowing involuntarily. The test showed a 93% chance of success. It was a high percentage, but even such an encouraging figure left him feeling uncertain.

"There's no turning back now," Mikhail said firmly, pressing a button to fill the injector vial with the yellowish liquid. "No turning back." He took a glass of water from the table and, with a wooden gait, walked back to his wife. Kneeling before their son, he paused for a moment.

"Do what you must," Hirako gently guided his hand holding the injector closer to their son's exposed arm.

"Thank you for the happiest years of my life that you've given me," Mikhail whispered with a bittersweet smile and confidently pulled the trigger, injecting the substance into his son's body. The boy immediately began to breathe faster, but it was still within normal limits—a natural immune response to the foreign biocomponent. Mikhail, a scientist at Biotech, had seen this many times before.

"Here, let him drink this," Mikhail handed his wife a glass with a diluted vitamin solution, watching as she slowly gave it to their son. "Now we need to leave the apartment and head to Japantown. There's a car waiting for us in one of the parking lots. I'll call Delamain to safely take us there."

"Go ahead," Hirako nodded.

Outgoing Video Call - Delamain Taxi Service