Dex lingered around for a moment, honestly he didnt have time for any of this, he would worry about it all after he dealth with the problems he left back in Neo-Tokyo. Time to head back and meet spectre. Activating the server portal key, he chose Neo-Tokyo and a portal appears before him. Without another word, he stepped in.
The portal collapsed behind Dex with a crackle of dying energy, leaving him standing in the pulsing heart of Neo-Tokyo. The city's electric breath filled his lungs—ozone, fried street food, the metallic tang of augmented reality overlays. His muscles unlocked.
Home.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[SERVER BONUS: "CYBER LORD'S DOMAIN"]
"The original Cyber Lord built this world in his image. Here, you are more."
[ALL STATS +50 IN NEO-TOKYO]
[PHANTOM JUMP: UNRESTRICTED]
A shudder of raw power raced down Dex's spine. He could feel the city now—every flickering neon sign, every security drone, every hidden data stream whispering against his nerves like static kisses. He exhaled, and the air around him glitched.
Then he laughed. Loud. Uncontrolled.
Nearby players flinched. A group of low-level Cyber Humans by a ramen stall turned, their expressions caught between confusion and secondhand embarrassment.
"The hell's wrong with that guy?" one muttered, eyeing Dex's panda hoodie and slippers.
His friend snorted. "Bro's wearing footie pajamas in the Redlight District. Let him be."
A third player—this one with a fabric-disintegrator pistol—grinned. "Nah. Let's give him a real reason to scream."
He raised the weapon and fired.
The blast hit empty air.
Dex was already gone, his body dissolving into a swirl of blue pixels.
He rematerialized on a rooftop ledge, the city's glow painting his silhouette in neon. The Origin Mask slid over his face unbidden, its eyeless surface drinking in the light. His panda hood stayed up, a few silver strands of hair escaping to frame the mask's edges.
Below, the players spun in dumbfounded circles.
"What the—?!"
"Did he just—?!"
A cyber-girl with holographic tattoos clutched her friend's arm, cheeks flushing. "That was… kinda cool?"
Her friend groaned. "Oh my god, you have a type."
Dex didn't linger. He stepped backward off the ledge—
—and vanished, teleporting through the city's unseen currents.
He never saw the figure in black leaning against a shadowed wall, their eyes bleeding liquid code as they tracked his exit.
But they saw him.
And when they pushed off the wall to melt into the crowd, their whisper was lost in the neon roar:
"Found you."
....
Dex swung his legs over the rooftop ledge, humming an old Mexican folk song under his breath as he typed out a message to Spectre.
[DEX: "Hey. I'm back. Sitting on top of Sakura Tower. You busy?"]
Her reply came instantly.
[SPECTRE: "How the hell did you get up there?"]
[SPECTRE: "And why does your level say 32??"]
He smirked behind the mask.
[DEX: "Meet me at the usual spot. I'll explain everything."]
[SPECTRE: "Uhh..We got a usual spot??"]
His eye twitches, attempts to sound cool failed, he replies.
[DEX: "The junkyard, were i had my first match"]
He closed the chat and glanced down at himself. The Sovereign's Slumber Suit was ridiculously comfortable, but Spectre would never let him live it down if she saw him like this.
Time for an upgrade.
He pulled up the Cyber Lord Shop, wincing as he saw his balance.
[CYBER CURRENCY (CC): 700]
"Damn. Auto-pilot mode really went wild with the spending."
Scrolling through the armor section, he settled on:
"Nightshade Jacket" *(Defense +15 | 80 CC)* – Black leather, silver stitching, reinforced shoulders.
"Tactical Cargo Pants" *(Defense +10 | 60 CC)* – Sleek, durable, with hidden pockets.
"Voidstep Boots" *(Defense +5 | 50 CC)* – Lightweight, sound-dampening soles.
"Nano-Weave Gloves" *(Defense +5 | 40 CC)* – Fingerless, grip-enhanced.
"Basilisk Vest" *(Defense +10 | 70 CC)* – Slim-fit white armored undershirt.
[TOTAL SPENT: 300 CC]
[REMAINING CC: 400]
Dex equipped the new gear in a flash of blue light, then leapt off the roof.
Mid-fall, he vanished, reappearing in front of a neon-lit store window.
His reflection stared back.
The Origin Mask clung to his face, its smooth, featureless surface giving him an eerie, unreadable aura. His silver hair, now longer after the gene evolution, spilled past his shoulders in loose waves, catching the neon glow.
The Nightshade Jacket hugged his frame, the leather gleaming under the city lights. The Basilisk Vest beneath it added a sharp contrast, the white fabric pristine against the dark outer layer. The cargo pants and boots gave him a tactical edge, while the fingerless gloves revealed the faint glow of his knuckles—residual energy from the Cyber Lord gene.
He tilted his head.
"Not bad."
The Mask hummed approvingly.
"Now you look like a proper heir."
Dex rolled his eyes—then vanished again, heading toward his meeting with Spectre.
The air crackled with static as Dex materialized from the old radio's speakers, his form reassembling from jagged blue pixels. The junkyard was just as he remembered—piles of rusted tech, flickering holographic graffiti, and the distant clang of low-level players dueling in the scrap-metal arenas.
Then he saw her.
A figure in a dark neon hoodie, the fabric pulsing with faint circuit-like patterns. Even with the hood up, he'd recognize that posture anywhere—tense, alert, fingers twitching like she was mentally typing commands into the air.
Spectre.
Dex grinned behind the mask and crept forward, silent as a shadow. He reached out—
—and tapped her shoulder.
She spun faster than he expected, her hand snapping up to twist the wrist of whoever dared sneak up on her. But Dex was quicker. He caught her wrist mid-motion, his grip firm but not harsh.
For a heartbeat, they froze.
Spectre's glowing eyes—pupils dilated with active code—scanned him up and down. Then they widened.
"Holy shit."
She yanked her arm back, stumbling a step. The usual ice in her voice was gone, replaced by something raw. "What the hell happened to you?!"
Her gaze raked over him—the mask, the longer silver hair, the way he now towered over her.
"You're taller. Your hair is different. And what is that thing on your face?!" She jabbed a finger at the Origin Mask. "And your level—since when are you 32?!"
Dex held up his hands. "Okay, okay—"
"No, not okay!" Spectre hissed. "After that ambush, you vanished. Pink Wolf's arm got turned into Valentina's spy drone, and now you show up looking like—like this?"
Her voice cracked. For the first time since he'd known her, Spectre looked... rattled.
Dex sighed. "It's a long story."
The Mask chuckled in his mind.
"And it's only getting longer."