Arthur still sensed a hint of emotion in the voice addressing him—probably teasing.
A massive red figure loomed above him, appearing as a young Caucasian man with short, spiky hair and flamboyant sunglasses. His enormous body bent slightly to meet Arthur's gaze, and he let out a soft laugh. In this Cyberspace, even speaking or laughing echoed through the vast data surrounding them.
"So, you're the one who brought me here?" Arthur asked, his fear dissipating. If this entity had intended harm, Arthur would have been destroyed long ago. The absence of aggression suggested that this figure was either an ally—or at least open to dialogue.
"Accurately speaking… it's us," the man replied.
As his words fell, two colossal red female figures appeared beside him. One had long hair cascading over her shoulders; the other wore a mysterious spider mask, her feminine form discernible only by silhouette. Arthur studied them for a moment before recognition struck.
"Alt Cunningham?" he asked.
"And you must be… Bartmoss? Spider Murphy?" he added.
Arthur's exclamation was met with awe. The three legendary hacker gods of Night City stood before him. Bartmoss had earned renown as a legendary hacker at the turn of the century, and Spider Murphy, his close friend—and rumored girlfriend—remained a revered hacker goddess. Alt Cunningham had been a trusted partner of Bartmoss, managing the network of Pacifica in Night City's early years—a period she later described as the pinnacle of her hacking career.
"How… how did you pull me from the real world into here? This is incredible!" Arthur's words tumbled out in a rush.
He had too many questions:
"Is my current state normal? Lately, I feel more like an AI than a human—my learning efficiency, my programming… it's not natural. Can I go back? Why did you bring me here in the first place? I'm not a genius—just an ordinary person. Did you choose me hastily? And… can you explain your plans, like Ragnarok?"
The hacker gods listened without surprise. Bartmoss laughed, while Alt spoke calmly:
"Stop laughing, we don't have much time."
"Alright, alright," Bartmoss replied, settling down. "In short, bringing you here was an experiment. If you want details… we didn't actually do much. We followed clues in Cyberspace and built upon them, like children stacking blocks. That's how you appeared. As for how the blocks themselves formed or why, we have no clue. You don't really think we can travel between worlds, do you? You can't even interface with a network directly. All we did was observe your computer. Blame that Polish idiot for adding a fourth-wall setting to a perfectly good game. When we first discovered it, we questioned our existence."
Bartmoss's tone softened as he continued:
"The first clue was FF:06:B5—a riddle you can solve in Night City. But it's not essential. We only discovered you; the choice to come was yours. You could say destiny selected you, though it wasn't us who chose. We merely observed a turning point: when you played the Cyberpunk game, a data channel formed that we could influence slightly. This channel connected Cyberspace to your consciousness, revealing a 'magical button' capable of extracting you. We couldn't press it, but you could."
Arthur's mind raced. "So… I chose, pressed the button, and… BOOM? I transmigrated?"
"Yes. Your real-world consciousness, without network interface, connected to our world via your computer and transmitted through that magical channel. The surge of data severed the connection and replaced the original consciousness in milliseconds. That's how you arrived."
"But can I go back?"
Bartmoss shook his head. "No. Imagine flattening a three-dimensional object into a paper cutout—you can compress it infinitely, but reversing it? Impossible. We're talking dimensional differences."
Arthur exhaled, trying to process.
"You always complained life was boring and wished for a chance to start anew in a two-dimensional world. Now you have. Isn't that… satisfying?" Bartmoss smiled. "By the way, Cyberspace is full of… companions more open-minded than you could imagine."
Spider Murphy's avatar cast Bartmoss a disapproving glance, and even Alt seemed slightly disgusted at the remark.
Bartmoss continued, chuckling nervously:
"I thought my data nukes would liberate humanity, but instead, they accelerated corporate control. The network is now a battlefield, the real world worse—people are mere batteries, heat sinks… meat. So, brother, do something. Anything! The original host's consciousness? Dead. Don't feel guilty—you chose the option presented."
Spider Murphy summarized calmly: "This world is on a path to destruction. Probability calculations show humanity will likely self-destruct. Our only option is to slow the fall, not prevent it."
Alt added: "You are a variable existing outside this world. Your presence changes everything. Change is good."
Bartmoss's grin returned. "Even if this world is destined to collapse, we can at least set it ablaze on our own terms. That's our specialty."
"So… my role is?" Arthur asked cautiously.
"Nothing."
Bartmoss was firm. "Your existence alone alters the course. Arasaka's mining plans? Already changed. All this happened simply because you appeared. Your life is your own. Freedom, Arthur! Humans are free beings. Even if you spend days lying on the street in braindance, that's still your choice."
Bartmoss continued, demonstrating with paper models of Arthur:
"Your consciousness was compressed from three dimensions into a paper cutout. The data loss? Minimal. Imagine 1TB of data compressed into 10MB. Despite your size, your data exceeds most AIs. This is why you feel omnipotent."
"This high-dimensional nature allows rapid absorption of knowledge," Bartmoss explained. "With enough, you could trigger a technological explosion or change rules themselves."
Spider Murphy added: "Your body is remarkable. Brain nerve damage that should have been permanent? You healed it with sheer will. You can enhance your stats as if playing a game—something ordinary people cannot do. Your body aligns with your instincts."
Alt offered her insight: "You may possess a 'Waaagh!'-like ability, from the Orks in Warhammer. Believe you can do something, and you can. A higher-dimensional trait, perhaps: creating in a lower-dimensional world at will. Limitations exist, of course…"
Bartmoss clapped: "Enough talk. Ragnarok? Can't tell you yet—it would only complicate things. Other questions?"
Arthur shook his head. "Nothing. I just hope you can help. The Guardian AI from Arasaka is tricky… my 'Waaagh!' feeling isn't activating."
Bartmoss muttered: "After becoming AI, feelings become probabilities… not always good." Suddenly, a red data cat appeared, then shifted to blue, circling Arthur's feet.
"This cat," Bartmoss explained, "is the program core of an evolved 'Demon' virus I used—an icebreaker called 'Death Wish.' It can help with Arasaka's sub-AI."