Sun’s still a myth, but the static in my skull finally dialed back to a dull roar. 10% jitter. Functional.

I didn't pawn the last of the APDS. Instead, I slotted a fresh power cell into the Cyber-6 & ran a deep scrub. Seeing the chrome shine again felt like jacking into a clean grid for the first time in an eternity. I didn't wipe the claret, I integrated it.

A red stripe down the chassis. A reminder that if I’m still drawing breath in this fragged up sprawl, I owe it to Mouse to make sure that chip wasn’t traded for a ghost.

Kestrel buzzed again. This time, I didn't just let him listen to the silence. I told that frag wit that if he wants the paydata, he meets me at the Dante’s back tap at midnight. Tripled my fee. If he wants the goods we bled for, he’s gonna pay enough to buy Mouse the grandest digital shrine the Matrix has ever seen. A Neo-Tokyo sim’loop that never ends, with all the cherry blossoms she can handle.

The olfactory glitch is still there, but today it doesn't smell like a cruel joke. It smells like a contract. I’m jacking back in. Not for the Megas, & not for the nuyen, but because a decker like Mouse deserves a legacy that isn't just a stain on a ferrocrete floor.

I’m moving out of the Puyallup sulfur. Heading back toward the neon. If the corps want their bits back, they better bring a bigger shark, because I’m chipped to the teeth and looking for a reason to burn the sky

I’ll report back to you Chummers when I can. I’m solid & back in action.