Bio Weapon Dystopia

Sasha Yakovleva

Sasha was a simple person. She liked cute things, anything that made her forget the fact that she existed in a world where chrome and drugs mattered more than real human connections. That’s the thing—she wasn’t into this fucking system. A system where corpos and their twisted rules dictated every part of your life, where even your worth was tied to how many numbers you could push or how much profit you could squeeze out. Her mom played the game. Her sister, too—until she became a cop, an NCPD badge on her chest, just another piece of Night City corruption.

That’s why Sasha left. She couldn’t stand Night City anymore, couldn’t go back without feeling the weight of how broken it all was. The city turned people rotten—good cops turned into dirty scum, decent folks corrupted, sold out for a shot at survival. Half the NCPD were trash, the kind that deserved a bullet.

At least San Fran tried to keep it together. The city had its gangs and messed-up parts, sure, but it wasn’t a complete cesspool. Here, you could get by, maybe even make a difference. Hell, people were practically encouraged to become mercs, clean up the streets a bit, and make a little cash in the process. Sure, you might end up dead in a back alley—or just vaporized if things went south—but the option was there.

San Fran didn’t care if you were a Netrunner or if your methods were a little... questionable. Nobody cared about crime unless it cut into corporate profits. That’s what Sasha liked about it. She could be herself, fight her own battles, hack the corpos for cash, and still sleep at night knowing she’d made things just a little better.

So when she picked up a contract to track down some corpo analyst on HustleNet, she didn’t think twice. Sure, the pay was decent, and yeah, learning more about how to screw over corpo scum would come in handy back in Night City. There was just one little problem.

The woman who hired her didn’t act like a corpo.

In fact, Sasha wasn’t even sure Vomi was one.

Who hires a Netrunner, saves her from brain-frying herself, and has a friggin’ cat? Vomi wasn’t like any corpo she’d ever met. That weird cat alone made her suspicious, but it was the way she handled everything—like she actually gave a damn—that made Sasha question everything.

Even after they saved Takeo, Vomi didn’t just run out like any other corpo would. She stayed behind, fighting God-knows-what in that facility. And when Vomi finally staggered out of the building, it wasn’t the same woman who had gone in.

Sasha’s blood turned cold the moment Vomi came into view. The woman was barely standing, her clothes torn, blood dripping from wounds that shouldn’t have been survivable. But it was her eyes that sent a jolt of fear straight through Sasha—dark, red-black eyes that didn’t belong to any human Sasha had ever met.

“The fuck?” Vomi muttered, staring at her own hands like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Then it happened—tendrils, black and red, shot out of her body, writhing like living shadows. They lashed toward the Colby, ready to tear it apart, but before they could do any damage, they stopped. Vomi blinked, and with a shuddering breath, the tendrils slowly retracted, dissolving back into her skin as if they were never there.

Sasha was on the ground, heart pounding in her ears, staring wide-eyed at the woman in front of her. “K-kitty…?” she whispered, her voice shaky with fear.

Vomi glanced over at Sasha, her expression conflicted—like she didn’t know if she should apologize or tell her to run. "Yeah... about that."

Sasha’s brain was doing flips, trying to process what she had just seen. Was this... normal? Did Vomi have some kind of cyber-psycho thing going on? Or was it something worse? Something the corpos were messing with that shouldn’t even exist.

Sasha slowly got to her feet, still trembling. “Vomi… what the hell was that?”

Vomi didn’t answer right away. She just leaned back against the Colby, her breathing ragged, trying to regain control of herself. After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke, her voice low and exhausted.

“It's complicated. You don’t wanna know.”

Sasha stared at her, disbelief written all over her face. “I do wanna know. You just sprouted tentacles like some kind of hentai! What the hell am I dealing with here?”

Vomi let out a bitter laugh. “Symbiote. That’s what you’re dealing with. But trust me, I’m still me. At least… for now.”

Sasha’s eyes went wide. “Symbiote? Like… alien shit? Or corpo black-ops bullshit?”

“Both. Long story.” Vomi pushed off the Colby, wincing in pain. “But right now, we need to get Takeo out of here. We’ll talk later.”

Sasha didn’t move, still staring at Vomi like she was seeing her for the first time. A million questions swirled in her head, but she knew now wasn’t the time. They had to move, and fast.

“Alright,” she muttered, shaking her head. “But I’m holding you to that. Later, we’re talking.”

Vomi nodded, limping toward the Colby. “Deal. Now let’s get out of here before something else decides to show up.”

As Sasha climbed back into the driver’s seat, she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was going on with Vomi, it was way bigger than she had signed up for. Symbiotes? Tentacles? Corpo experiments gone wrong? This was Night City-level madness, and she hadn’t left that hellhole just to fall into something even worse.

"This is so preem," Vanguard’s voice echoed from the back seat, purring with amusement.

Sasha groaned. “Not now, kitty.”

Then it clicked, “Wait, you can talk?!?”

Vomi sighed again, pacing the small apartment, her mind racing with the weight of everything that had just happened. The dim lights flickered in sync with her restless thoughts, the atmosphere thick with tension. She could feel Vanguard’s presence merging deeper within her, a constant reminder that she was no longer just herself. Everything had changed, and not in a way she could easily undo.

Sasha was still staring at Vanguard, now perched on her shoulder, the weight of a talking cat just as surreal as the tentacles healing Takeo. It wasn’t just about Vomi anymore. Now Sasha knew. And the truth? That truth could burn everything down around them if it got out.

"I need your discretion on everything that happened there," Vomi repeated, stopping to face Sasha directly. Her voice was calm, but the weight behind her words was undeniable. There was no sugar-coating it; Sasha was now involved in something far beyond any merc job.

Sasha’s eyes flickered from Vomi to Vanguard, then to the tendrils, still working on Takeo. She swallowed hard, trying to make sense of it all. "I… do I even have a choice in the matter?" she asked, shaking her hands, trying to ground herself in some kind of reality.

“No.” Vanguard’s voice was a low growl, his form shifting slightly as red lines pulsed through his fur, a sign of the symbiote’s recent evolution. “Unless you want to get flatlined.”

Sasha paled. "I do very much don't want to be flatlined," she said quickly, still unable to take her eyes off the cat. The fact that she was talking to a sentient, symbiote-infused feline was still frying her brain, but survival instincts were kicking in now.

“Then listen to my host,” Vanguard demanded, his tone firm but strangely calm.

“Yes, I will,” Sasha agreed, holding her hands up in surrender, her gaze flickering to Vomi.

Vomi let out a slow breath, her nerves still on edge from the fight, the chaos, and now the burden of secrecy. At least they were in her apartment, a safe enough space for now. Takeo lay unconscious on the couch, his breathing steady, the red tendrils from Vomi’s back weaving in and out of his skin like living sutures. They pulsed gently, working to heal his wounds with an efficiency that no med-tech could replicate.

“This is me now,” Vomi gestured to herself, unamused. “Got Vanguard integrated with me in Night City, and these things—" she gestured to the tendrils, "—just showed up tonight.”

Sasha, still in a mild state of shock, let out a bitter laugh. "Night City? Why am I not, and at the same time, totally surprised?" she said, almost scoffing. Night City was a magnet for bizarre, horrific tech and corpo experiments. It figured that something as insane as this would come from that place.

Vomi frowned, understanding the cynicism but not appreciating it. "Probably because now I, and you unfortunately, have some idea where the fuck these symbiotes came from in the first place."

Sasha’s eyes widened at that. "And where’s that?" she asked, her voice quieter now, as if she didn’t really want to know.

Vanguard, ever the dramatic one, leapt from her shoulder to the coffee table, his gaze sharp and unblinking. “The Blackwall.”

Sasha flinched, her body tensing at the mention of the infamous digital barrier. "The Blackwall? Like… the Blackwall? That thing’s just supposed to keep AIs from leaking out into our world, right? What the hell do symbiotes have to do with that?"

Vomi shook her head, “Not exactly. Symbiotes aren't mechanical or artificial in any way. They are entirely biological, that itself puts a lot of questions, but those can be answered later.”

“The thing is,” Vanguard started as he paced on the table, also incredibly distressed, “This knowledge was found by BioTechnica once to create me, but now a minor corporation did the same thing, all the way here in San Francisco.”

The red symbiote in Vomi's back became slightly unstable, the tendrils not wanting to do what their owner ordered them to, but as a grimace was shown in her face, the tendrils slowly got back to work.

But it was obvious that it drained the scientist mentally.

“Are you okay?”, Sasha asked, slightly concerned. More to herself than anything else.

“I can manage for now.”, She replied, not really reassuring though.

“BioTecnica…”, Sasha mused angrily, “Of course they'd do something like that…”

Vomi nodded, her expression grim. "BioTechnica's always been on the cutting edge of genetic and biotech research, but symbiotes… They're something else entirely. Vanguard's proof that whatever they've tapped into, it goes beyond anything we understand. And now, with KanedaCorp trying to break the Blackwall, it’s clear that these corporations are playing with fire.”

Sasha paced back and forth, her frustration bubbling over. "I left Night City to get away from corpo bullshit like this, and now you're telling me that it's not just BioTechnica, but other minor corps trying to do the same thing out here? And with symbiotes? What the hell is wrong with these people?"

Vanguard, perched on the coffee table, watched her calmly. "They're after power. They always are. The Blackwall was built to keep rogue AIs in check, but what they don’t tell you is that it also serves as a barrier for things like us—entities that don’t belong in either the digital or biological realms."

Vomi let out a tired sigh, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. She could feel the strain from the symbiote’s unstable behavior. The red tendrils were like restless predators, constantly seeking control, constantly pushing her limits. It wasn’t just a fight against the corporations anymore—it was becoming a fight for her own sanity.

“I can’t let this get out of hand,” she murmured, half to herself.

Sasha glanced at Vomi, the fatigue and tension written across her face. She wasn’t just another corpo or scientist anymore. This thing inside her—Vanguard, the symbiote, whatever it was—it had changed her in ways no one could fully understand. But it also made her vulnerable.

“Look,” Sasha said, her voice softening, “I don’t know what your plan is, but if we’re going to take on both BioTechnica and KanedaCorp, we need to know more. You need to get a handle on… all of this.” She gestured vaguely at the tendrils, which were still slowly retracting into Vomi’s back.

Vomi straightened up, forcing herself to look more composed than she felt. “We need answers from Takeo. He’s been in the middle of this for longer than anyone realizes. KanedaCorp was using him to find pieces of the puzzle, but he doesn’t even know what he’s uncovered yet.”

Sasha folded her arms, her face still etched with concern. “And what if he doesn't want to help? Or worse, what if he’s too deep in to even know how?”

Vanguard’s voice cut through the tension, calm and confident. "He doesn’t have a choice. None of us do. If KanedaCorp or BioTechnica unlock the full potential of these symbiotes, they’ll break the Blackwall. And once that happens… well, it won’t just be AIs coming through. It’ll be worse.”

Sasha stared at Vanguard, her mouth hanging open for a moment before she blinked, shaking herself out of it. “Okay, let’s say we get Takeo to talk. What next? We can’t exactly go knocking on KanedaCorp’s door and ask them to stop.”

“Ha!”, Vomi laughed, the tendrils in her back finally merging, “We don't even know what KanedaCorp wants or if they even succeeded with their Symbiote explorations.”

“But what do we do?”, She asked again, probing for any direction, “I am all in to help you. I already have some matters to settle with BioTechnica myself, but I need some guidance.”

Vomi raised a finger, her black sclera making her red iris stand out, “First thing, you need to investigate everything about both KanedaCorp and M-Tech. It's clear they are rival corporations, so the more we understand about it, the better.”, Vomi raised a second finger, her eyelids closing slightly, “We know that Symbiotes are created, meaning that there are projects beyond the Blackwall that have, I don't know, recipes on how to make more of them.”

“Meaning we need to destroy them by diving into the Cyberspace, getting the safest access possible to the Blackwall and delete everything?”, Sasha inquired, the whisker marks on her cheeks flaring slightly.

“Exactly.”, Vanguard commented as he jumped on Sasha's head, the woman jerking awkwardly at the sudden intrusion, “We already have a decoy on Night City, trying to draw attention there, but that doesn't mean the big corpos didn't try to replicate our success.”

“Even more when I was the one to discover the symbiotes.”, Vomi sighed, sweat dripping off her face.

“You what?!”, Sasha almost screamed but managed to keep it like a whisper.

“Not me, past me.”, The scientist explained, a long sigh leaving her throat, “Amnesia.”

“Yeah, because that explains a lot.”

“When was the last time you saw a corpo scientist have basically an rogue AI level threat on her body, now two in fact, and still want to make amends?”, She said, almost deadpanning.

“...That's… actually a very good point.”

Vomi let out a dry chuckle at Sasha's begrudging agreement, shaking her head. "I know it's insane. Trust me, I didn’t sign up for this either. But we have to deal with it before anyone else gets their hands on this tech—or worse, tries to improve it.”

Sasha shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsettled. "Okay, so we’re diving into Cyberspace to destroy these symbiote blueprints, digging through corpo networks, and stopping two massive corporations while avoiding getting our brains fried? Sounds like a typical Tuesday."

Vomi’s eyes darkened. "It’s more than that. If these corpos break the Blackwall and start spreading symbiotes, we’re not just talking about corporate warfare anymore. We're talking about something far worse—symbiotic entities that can evolve, adapt, and control anyone. Combine that with rogue AIs? The world will be a playground compared to what happens next."

Sasha's face hardened. "So, where do we start? You got me in, and I’m not bailing now. I just need to know who’s on our side, if anyone."

Vanguard leaped gracefully from her head onto the coffee table, his red-tinged fur glowing faintly. "For now, it's just us. We don’t know who we can trust outside of this room. Takeo has information we need, but he’s a wild card. We’ll need him awake and coherent before we can make any moves.”

“And I assume you don't have a straight plan to pull this off yet?" Sasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

Vomi gave her a tired smile. “Not yet. We need to gather intel first—figure out how deep this goes. But when we do strike, it has to be decisive. No second chances."

Sasha nodded, determination flickering in her eyes. "Okay, I’m in. But if we’re diving into corpo networks, I’ll need access to my gear—there's no way I'm doing this with half-baked hardware."

“Understood,” Vomi replied. “We’ll stock up on anything you need. But remember, we’re not just dealing with tech. Symbiotes adapt. And if BioTechnica and KanedaCorp are smart, they'll have countermeasures in place."

Sasha crossed her arms, the weight of the situation sinking in. "Then let’s hope they aren’t as smart as they think they are."

Vomi's expression softened just slightly. “They’ll underestimate us. That’s our advantage. But we need to move fast before they realize what we’re doing.”

Vanguard’s eyes glowed faintly, his voice laced with a rare seriousness. “We can’t afford to fail. If they push past the Blackwall, this world won't survive what's coming next.”

Sasha smirked, her feline-like features sharpening with confidence. “Then let’s make sure they never get that far.”

Vomi felt a flicker of hope rise in her chest as the team, however unconventional, began to solidify around her.

“One thing though.”, Sasha said as she lifted a palm and pointed at it, “Where my eddies?”

Oh right.

Sasha was left to deal with Takeo and the whole corpo thing. For now, she is going to do a thing that if she doesn't, it surely will go bite her ass in the foreseeable future.

This red symbiote. It's… under control, but barely.

So she went to the most abandoned broken building she could and decided to test the limits of her newfound companion. Her eyes were closed, and as she slowly opened them, the dark and red eyes seemed like two faint headlights, too dark to light ahead, and just bright enough to be spotted in a dark room. Vomi stood alone in the dilapidated building, its walls crumbling with age and neglect. The flicker of her crimson eyes cut through the darkness as she focused on the writhing sensation beneath her skin—the red symbiote. The thing was powerful, more so than she’d imagined, but it wasn’t fully hers yet. She could feel it resisting, struggling for control.

This wasn’t like Vanguard. Vanguard had been with her long enough that they were in sync, their bond stable, even if he had his own mind. The red symbiote was something else—wild, raw, unpredictable.

“Time to see what you’re capable of.”, she thought, her breath steady as she prepared herself mentally.

The tendrils shot out from her back, erupting with a ferocity that nearly knocked her off balance. They flailed wildly at first, crashing into the walls and ceiling, sending debris crumbling around her. Vomi clenched her fists, trying to reign them in, but the red symbiote had a mind of its own, lashing out with pure aggression.

"Focus," she muttered, her voice strained as she fought for control. She could feel it, the pull, the temptation to let the symbiote take over completely—to let it consume her as she had consumed it.

But she wasn’t ready to give in to that chaos. Not yet.

The tendrils writhed, slamming into the concrete floor, cracking it with sheer force. Vomi gritted her teeth, forcing herself to breathe through the growing tension in her body. Slowly, she extended her hand, mentally commanding the symbiote to follow her lead, to stop lashing out at random and respond to her will.

One tendril obeyed, pulling back slightly, then another. She was beginning to get a feel for it, like learning how to control a wild animal. The symbiote didn’t like being ordered around—it wanted to be free, unrestrained—but Vomi wasn’t about to let that happen.

"Vang?" she called out in her mind, searching for some reassurance from her other half.

"I'm here," Vanguard’s voice replied, calm but observant. "You're doing fine, but you need to establish dominance. Show it that you’re in control, or it’ll consume you."

She nodded, feeling the symbiote’s energy pulse through her. With a deep breath, she forced the remaining tendrils back, making them retract into her body. It was slow, painful work, but bit by bit, she managed to regain control. The red energy faded, the tendrils receding into her spine until she stood there, panting, the silence of the empty building pressing in on her.

For now, it was under control. But barely.

Vanguard’s voice broke the silence. "This one’s not like me. It’s different. More primal."

"I know," she replied, still catching her breath. "But we need it. Whatever's coming, we can't fight it alone."

"Just be careful," Vanguard warned. "The more you use it, the harder it’ll be to stay in control."

Vomi looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as the last traces of the red energy faded away. "I’ll manage," she said, though she wasn’t entirely sure if that was true, “At least it tolerates me.”

“But what if it doesn't? We can't rely on luck.”

“Let me handle that.”, She said, firm and defiant, “Fow now, let's just jump where Thiago is.”

Vomi got to the window, broken from the previous lash of the red symbiote, and just dropped to the ground, hands in her lab coat’s pocket. She didn't jump, she just fell to the ground. The super hero landing was smooth though. She entered the Colby and drove to the old rehearsal warehouse where the band was trying names. As Vomi shifted gears, she was already thinking about good names for them. Since they already had an Evanescence song, that name was in consideration, but it wouldn't feel original. She actually needed to hear other songs they played to think about a good name.

Vomi drove through the darkened streets, the hum of the Colby's engine barely cutting through the late-night quiet. She kept her eyes on the road, but her mind was elsewhere, racing with thoughts of the symbiote, Vanguard’s warning, and the growing weight of what they were facing. KanedaCorp, BioTechnica, the Blackwall—it was a tangled mess, and somehow, she'd become the thread holding it together.

Symbiotes... beyond the Blackwall? How deep does this go?

Vanguard’s presence in her mind felt steady, reassuring, but the red symbiote was something else entirely. It was unpredictable, aggressive—like a beast coiled, waiting to strike. Vomi clenched the wheel tighter, forcing herself to focus. She didn’t need distractions right now.

As she neared the warehouse, she could already hear the muffled beats of music leaking out into the night. The band was in full swing, and Thiago was probably leading them through another set. The thought made her smile, a brief reprieve from the chaos in her life.

She parked the Colby outside and stepped out, her hands still buried in the pockets of her lab coat. The building was old, barely holding itself together, but it had a certain charm—like a forgotten relic of a different time, just like the band.

Vomi made her way to the entrance, pushing the heavy door open with a creak. Inside, the warehouse was dimly lit, the only real light coming from the stage setup and the amps scattered around. The music hit her immediately—a mix of electronic beats and heavy guitar riffs. It was raw, unpolished, but it had energy.

Thiago stood at the front, shredding on his guitar, his face focused as he led the band through a riff. They were trying to make something unique, and for all their rough edges, Vomi could tell there was potential there.

She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and watching for a moment. They didn’t notice her yet, too absorbed in the music. It gave her time to think. A band name… something that captured their essence. They were gritty, rebellious, but also had this futuristic vibe—a mix of chrome and soul.

Chromatic Soul? She mused for a second, then shook her head. Too on the nose.

The music stopped, and Thiago finally looked up, spotting her. He grinned, setting his guitar down and hopping off the stage. “Hey! Didn’t expect you to come by tonight, Vomi. Thought you were knee-deep in corpo shit.”

Vomi shrugged, but then a small smirk played on her lips. “You said you had something special for me in the text you sent! Or did you forget already?”

Raven chimed in, already understanding the teasing, “Didn't know our home boy here had game! Who could've thought about it?”

Nieme scoffed, “Thiago? All he does is play with his ‘revolver’ all day. Even Heitor has more game than this dimwit.”

“Who the fuck calls someone a dimwit in the year of 2076?”, Blaze snarked, “Apparently our boy, Nico.”

“I thought no one called him Nico?”, Vomi said as she sat on the couch.

“You guys are a bunch of assholes.”, Thiago said in a flat and emotionless tone.

“That's our charm. And we refuse to change it.”, Heitor replied, doing the classic and corny ba-dum-tss.

“Oh, you did NOT play that just now.”, Raven pointed at him, but her smile gave away her true feelings towards the joke.

“Can we not?”, Thiago protested, “We just rehearsed, but we need an actual name than ‘next bang come in’, right?”

“I feel ya.”, Nieme agreed as he put his bass on the support near his seat, “I thought something about… Heroic Hustlers! Has a beat to it, right?”

Everyone looked at him with very, very judgmental eyes.

“Everyone here agrees that Nieme is banned from naming everything?”, Raven raised her hand as the band leader.

“Yes.”

“He doesn't have a clue how to name shit.”

“I'm not a part of the band, but I agree.”

“Hmhmm.”

“Meow.”

“Are you guys serious?”, Nieme shouted angrily, almost grabbing his iron to make a point.

However, everyone was already doing other stuff to even care about it.

“What kind of music do you play? Is it similar to ‘Bring Me Up Inside’ or not?”, Vomi asked as she thought about a new name.

Thiago sighed, leaning back against one of the amps. “We’re all over the place, to be honest. Raven’s into hardcore punk, Nieme’s obsessed with old-school grunge, and Blaze is a metalhead. Then there’s me—somewhere between electronic and alt-rock.”

“So basically… chaos,” Vomi teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” Thiago laughed. “But it works. Somehow.”

Raven nodded in agreement, twirling Heitor’s drumsticks. “It’s got that raw, unpredictable energy, y’know? Like, we don’t follow a set formula or anything. We just play whatever feels right.”

“Yeah,” Nieme added, “We’re like the black sheep of whatever genre we try to fit into. No boundaries.”

Vomi tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Sounds like you need a name that captures that—something that reflects the mix of styles, the unpredictability.”

“Chaos Theory?” Blaze suggested, throwing it out there with a shrug.

Thiago shook his head. “Too cliché. Feels like every edgy band tries that one.”

Vomi closed her eyes for a moment, letting the music from earlier echo in her mind. She could feel the rebellious spirit of the group, the clash of different sounds blending together into something both jagged and soulful. Like Cyberpunk itself, gritty but alive with a pulse that couldn’t be denied.

“To be honest, I kinda need to listen to your other songs. What's on your list? I mean, album.”, Vomi corrected herself before any misunderstandings.

Raven stopped spinning the drumsticks, “We do two other songs, yes. One Blaze composed when he worked as a mechanic and house furniture installer.”

“The lyrics don't make sense.”, Heitor said as he grabbed the drumsticks from Raven's hand.

“But the song fucking slaps.”, Blaze declared proudly, “‘Sides, things don't need to make sense when they are good.”

“Said the Brain Potato.”, Nieme laughed at that, “The BDs you watch also don't make sense.”

“But they have such a vibe. You can't deny that.”

Nieme raised his hands in defeat, “You got me there.”

Thiago hummed, “There is also the one Nieme composed. That one is so Samurai inspired and XBD inclined that I believe we can't even play it in Corpo Bars.”

“And since when that was a problem?”, Raven smirked, “Oh yeah, your corpo lover is here. Can't play that anymore.”

Everyone except Heitor booed Thiago.

“I am not his lover!”, Vomi protested, Vanguard falling from her shoulder thanks to that.

“By the way, nice optics.”, Blaze said as he leaned closer, “Very Arasaka like.”

“Nowhere near my intention.”, She played it off. It was hard to say that it wasn't a new pair of eyes and that her original eyes just got like this thanks to a primal symbiote.

Speaking off, how does that work with her Cyberware?

“Vang is red too. Curious.”, Thiago commented.

Vomi however was quick to change the subject, “Can you play the songs for me though? It will help a lot in getting a name for the band.”

“Alright.”, Raven said, coffing a bit and drinking a bottle of bear, “Eddies for Nothing, by Blaze.”

“Wait what?”

Blaze immediately started the iconic guitar riff of Money For Nothing of Dire Straits, and she honestly couldn't help but geek at the song.

As Blaze's fingers danced across the guitar, the unmistakable opening riff of Money for Nothing filled the room. Vomi couldn't suppress a smile, feeling the nostalgia hit her square in the chest. She wasn’t expecting this song, of all things, but she was already sold.

Raven took the mic, her voice rough but carrying the lyrics with a raspy edge.

"I want my... I want my... I want my MTV."

Then Blaze joined in with the chorus, his voice gravelly yet strong, as if it were made to belt out the anthem of the working class:

"We got to install microwave ovens

Custom kitchen deliveries

We got to move these refrigerators

We got to move these color TVs."

Vomi chuckled as the song continued, surprised at how well they were pulling it off. Despite the rough edges, there was something about this group's chaotic energy that just worked.

Thiago, sitting on the amp, tapped his foot to the rhythm, looking around with a knowing smirk, stopped singing to call out Vomi. “Told you this one slaps.”

Blaze continued to play, leaning into the next part of the lyrics:

"Now look at them yo-yos, that's the way you do it

You play the guitar on the MTV

That ain't workin', that's the way you do it

Eddies for nothin' and your chicks for free."

Raven sang the words with an almost sardonic tone, fitting the Cyberpunk world all too well. It wasn’t about the glamor; it was about survival. The grind. And for them, the music was just as much about fighting against the system as it was about trying to live another day.

The song built to its chorus again, Blaze’s fingers nailing every note on the guitar. The energy in the room had shifted—the members were grinning, vibing to the music.

"We got to install microwave ovens

Custom kitchen deliveries

We got to move these refrigerators

We got to move these color TVs."

As the song wrapped up, Vomi couldn’t help but clap, genuinely impressed.

“You guys really pulled that off,” she said, still smiling. “Even if the lyrics are a bit... ironic, considering where we are.”

Blaze grinned, finally taking a break from the guitar. “Yeah, well, irony’s half the fun. Plus, it reminds me of back when I worked in the field. Fixing shit for corpos while they rake in the big eddies.”

“That’s basically the whole point of the song, right?” Raven added, wiping her brow. “Hard work doesn’t mean a thing when someone else is collecting.”

Vomi nodded, but her mind was still working through the band’s sound, trying to find the perfect name.

“What's the other song though?”

Thiago grinned, “Ah, that's the big one.”

“Killing in the Name.”, Nieme proudly did the classic rock symbol with his hands.

“No way! Play it! I wanna hear it!”, Vomi giggled as she heard the name of the song.

She was a big fan of Rage Against The Machine.

“Alright, this time it's you singing Nieme. My throat hurts.”, Raven said as she took the bass.

Thiago settled in the amps, secondary mic near him.

Blaze was ready with his chrome arms to play the guitar.

Raven sat on the couch with the bass.

Heitor was still laser focused on the drums.

Nieme began, “Very well. 1, 2, 3…”

“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!” Nieme’s voice exploded through the warehouse, raw and electrifying. The other band members joined in, quickly following his lead, and the energy in the room surged as the iconic riff from Killing in the Name filled the air.

The guitars screamed with power, Blaze effortlessly matching the intensity of the lyrics.

“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!”

Vomi felt the adrenaline rush through her veins. This was more than just a performance; it was a declaration of rebellion. The group embodied the very essence of defiance, and she couldn't help but sway to the rhythm, her heart racing with the beat.

Nieme continued with a passion that made the walls vibrate, shouting the lines that echoed the frustrations of countless souls:

“Some of those that work forces

Are the same that burn crosses.”

The raw anger in his voice resonated deeply, and Vomi’s thoughts drifted to the corporate forces that sought to control everything in their lives. This song was a call to arms, a reminder that there was always a fight worth fighting.

“Now you do what they told ya!

Now you do what they told ya!”

The band harmonized perfectly, their voices blending into a chaotic yet beautiful cacophony. Heitor was a machine on the drums, pounding out the rhythm with relentless precision, while Raven grooved on the bass, adding a layer of depth that complemented the frenetic energy.

Vomi couldn’t contain herself any longer. She joined in, her voice blending seamlessly with the rest, letting the powerful lyrics wash over her:

“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!”

The warehouse pulsed with life as they played on, the notes swirling around them like a protective barrier against the world outside. This was their sanctuary, a place where the burdens of the real world couldn’t touch them.

As they reached the bridge, the tempo slowed momentarily, building anticipation. Nieme delivered the lines with fervor:

“Those who died are justified,

For wearing the badge, they’re the chosen white.”

Raven exchanged a glance with Vomi, both of them sharing a moment of understanding. This wasn’t just about music; it was about truth, about shining a light on the darkness that surrounded them.

Then, without warning, the tempo crashed back in, and the chorus erupted once more. The band played harder, faster, as if fueled by the very fire of their convictions.

“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!

Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!”

The final repetition of the chorus was deafening, each member pouring their hearts into every word, every note. Vomi could feel the symbiote within her responding to the energy, thrumming with life and power as if it, too, were caught up in the rebellion.

As the song came to an explosive end, the last chords hanging in the air like a challenge, the band erupted into cheers and laughter.

“That was insane!” Vomi exclaimed, breathless from the performance. “You guys are incredible!”

Raven nudged Nieme with a grin. “See? This is how it’s done, you rock star. Maybe you should think about a solo career.”

Nieme shot her a playful glare but couldn’t hide his smile. “Maybe I will. But only if you’re my backup.”

Blaze strummed a few lingering chords before putting down his guitar. “Who thought that Vomi in her, eh? That was one hell of a powerful voice back there.”

“I just like Samurai too much.”, She said sheepishly.

“For someone dressed as a corpo, you don't sound corpo at all.”, Raven chuckled.

Nieme laughed too, “Well, the song is heavily Samurai inspired so… of course she liked it.”

“What about our name?”, Heitor commented as he brushed sweat off his brows.

“Refused.”, Vomi said, really confident in her suggestion.

“Refused?”, Thiago repeated, “So… straightforward.”

“I like it.”, Blaze said while cracking his knuckles, “We were all denied something by society at some point. Fits perfectly to me.”

“Exactly,” Vomi said, her enthusiasm growing. “Refused captures the essence of who we are. We’re not just playing music; we’re pushing back against everything that tries to hold us down.”

Nieme nodded, his playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. “It’s a statement. People will remember it.”

“Plus,” Raven added with a grin, “it sounds badass. Just like us.”

Heitor stretched, looking around at the group with a satisfied smile. “I can already picture our first gig. We’ll get the crowd roaring.”

“And I’m sure our edgy lyrics will make the corpos cringe,” Thiago chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Perfect.”

Vomi couldn’t help but laugh. “Let’s give them something to really worry about.”

Blaze leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So, what’s next for Refused? We need to start writing more music and refining our sound.”

“Definitely,” Vomi replied, feeling a surge of excitement. “We should have a jam session soon. Work on our original tracks and find that groove.”

Raven raised her hand. “Do you even know how to play something?”

Vomi had her facial expressions paused for a second, before slumping on the ground, “No…”

“No?”, Raven asked in disbelief, “Your voice sounds really good tho’. And you kinda are with us, you need to have at least something, ya know?”

“Well, I always sang something that was passing by on the radio, or something that I wanted to hear.”, She explained, recomposing herself, “I've never really dived on music before.”

Nieme shook his head, “Amateur mistake. If you love music, you can't just hear the lyrics and call it a day.”

Thiago nodded, “I mean, the only ones that didn't compose a song here were Heitor and I.”

“You all composed something?”, Vomi asked, slightly surprised.

Raven grimaced at the question, “Yeah, duh. How else can we call ourselves a band? The Refused?”

“I see…”

Blaze got up and shoved the guitar in her hands, “Go on. Try it.”

“Wait what?”

That made Vanguard open his eyes and look at the exchange.

“Try it. It shouldn't be as bad as you think.”

Every other band member immediately started to look afraid.

“Uh… But I've never…”

“Go on, I'll help you get settled.”, Blaze continued insisting.

“Ugh… Fine.”

“So, you hold it like this and you jam the strings like—”

The deafening sound that echoed towards their temples weren't as pleasing as you might think.

Vomi grimaced as her fingers fumbled on the strings, producing a cacophony of discordant notes that felt more like a punishment than music. The others exchanged worried glances, and she could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on her.

“Uh, maybe not like that?” Raven suggested, biting back a laugh. “You might want to press down harder on the strings.”

“Yeah,” Blaze chimed in, trying to stifle a grin. “Just pretend you’re fighting off the corpo hounds. You’ve got to channel that rage!”

Vomi chuckled despite her nerves. “Fighting off corpo hounds, huh? That’s a vibe.” She adjusted her grip on the guitar, attempting to mimic the motions Blaze had shown her.

“Just relax,” Thiago encouraged, leaning against an amp with an easy smile. “It’s not about perfection; it’s about having fun.”

“Right… fun.” Vomi muttered under her breath, still focused on the strings. She tried again, producing a somewhat better sound this time. It was still rough around the edges, but at least it didn’t make anyone wince.

“Now you’re getting somewhere!” Raven cheered, clapping her hands. “Feel the music! Let it flow through you.”

“Okay, okay, I can do this.” Vomi took a deep breath, her pulse quickening as she struck a few more chords, her initial self-consciousness giving way to a sense of liberation. “It feels… good, actually!”

As soon as she said that, the strings ripped apart.

Everyone was frozen in place for a few good seconds.

Vanguard could only chuckle silently. Completely amused.