The first thing Glory noticed at the first street doc she could find was the smell.

It was a noxious smell- an almost suffocating combination of cigarettes, dried blood, and cheap pine scented air freshener. Glory immediately knew she'd found exactly the right kind of place.

She sauntered on over to what passed for a front desk where an older looking elf woman thumbed through a magazine seemingly unaware of her entrance, cigarette in mouth. Glory waited for a few moments to see if the elf would even greet her before sighing and just stating what she wanted.

"I need the bulkiest cyberware you can spare. Don't care about the specs. The shittier the better."

"Huh," the other woman finally looked up from her reading and snuffed out her cigarette against the desk. "That's a new one. You sure about that, sweet pea? If you're hurting for nuyen I've got some real cheap shit that won't set you back too much. Or I know some some real nice people who might lend-"

"Don't care," Glory interrupted waving a credstick in front of the other woman's face. The elf rolled her eyes and mumbled something indiscernible, but snatched it from Glory anyway. "I want what I asked for."

"Fine, be that way. How shitty are we talking exactly?" she led Glory over to a room with an impressive collection of various cyberware on display.

Models of various arms, legs, and eyes that ran the spectrum from almost new to more than half a decade obsolete. Her eye was drawn to a pair of hideous bulky black cyberarms that looked way older than anything else in the room. First gen if she had to guess.


The elf caught her staring and shook her head slowly, "Man, tell me you're not seriously considering those? They're basically antiques at this point- I bought them for chump change because I felt bad for a customer."

She only sighed when Glory simply glared back at her, "Look, I know you're Awakened. These babies will eat up almost all your essence and then some. What could possibly be so bad you gotta resort to this, huh?"

Fire, so much fire.

Her poor mother reduced to a smoldering charred husk of a body. Glory's stomach churned and bile rose in her throat as the overwhelming scent of burned flesh and hair reached her nostrils. God, what had she done? What had she been doing?

The Adversary just laughed and laughed.

"Uh, hello? You there?" the elf waved a slim hand in front of Glory's face as she came back to awareness. "You zoned out, thousand yard stare and everything. Real creepy honestly."

"Just give me the ware and you can have whatever's on that credstick. I don't care what it does to me," Glory snapped. The arms weren't worth even a fraction of what she had saved on it but she didn't care. She needed this.

"Okay okay, yeesh. Some fucking people," the elf got to work digging, rifling through various drawers for her supplies. "If you turn into a some zombie, don't blame me and don't tell anyone I'm the one who installed your ware. I've still got some reputation to maintain," she called out over her shoulder.