Steel and dust lay at Kurt's feet as he walked quickly towards the entrance to the Militech Museum.

Seven years ago, the corporation had moved heaven and hell to prevent Pacifica from being lost to the NUSA and he had worked his arse off to stop it. Now, after all this time and all the blood he had soaked the soil with, the answer had come to light.

His eyes scanned through the approaching light of the construction site illumination. He listened for every step, every movement.

But you had become like a shadow. His shadow.

Barghest men saluted him as he stopped in front of the large, armoured door to the cellar. Strangely well guarded for the fact that this was supposed to be a museum and there was nothing of any real value.

"Report.", he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest, still feeling the effects of your claws on the metal.

"Nobody's in or out, Colonel.", one of the men explained, stepping aside to allow him free access. "The troops are still working on the extraction."

He grumbled with satisfaction.

High up in the steel beams that held the concrete and glass ceiling together overhead, you sat in the darkness. Only tiny red lights revealed where you were hiding.

Kurt was the only one who noticed. You exchanged quick glances.

"Guard the entrance.", he ordered, and for a moment the soldier you had known was back.

You liked the tyrant so much better. Especially when he was lying at your feet.

Smiling to yourself, you lowered your gaze and slipped through a glass front that separated the two rooms. The two guards didn't notice you.

Only Kurt, who was waiting on the other side of the door, a cigarette between his lips. Thin wafts of smoke rose from the stump and brushed over your face.

You didn't particularly like the smell of tar, but he smoked so rarely that it was hardly noticeable. Only when he needed to calm his nerves. That didn't happen very often, thanks to your influence.

So why now?

Your eyes wandered over your surroundings. Nothing was perceived as a threat by scan. Everything was quiet, the only other men around were all known members of the Barghest.

Quiet as the wind, you followed over Kurt's head on one of the steel beams. He led you to the centre of the huge hall, down a staircase of iron, and then he stopped at the edge of a huge crater.

You nestled into the shadows, not far from him. Yuri appeared. The man was still a thorn in your side, but Kurt appreciated his work and that was enough not to kill him. At least for now.

"We're almost done.", Yuri said, still using the same thick accent he had seven years ago.

Kurt took the cigarette out of his mouth. The orange glow mingled with the strange red glow that lit up the crater.

Nevertheless, you couldn't see the floor.

A large lift led down into the depths. A group of men had just returned to the surface. In their midst they carried a slumped person. A netrunner, as your sensors recognised.

He was dead, all his neurons, including his brain, burnt out like a cheap hard drive. Impressed, you let out a low whistle.

Yuri's head jerked upwards. But he didn't find you.

Kurt calmly dropped the rest of the cigarette and stamped out the embers with his boot.

"You can go, I'll look at it myself.", he dismissed his best man with a pat on the shoulder.

Yuri raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Why all of a sudden?", he asked. "We're almost finished."

The colonel's white Kiroshi eyes followed the troops as they dragged the fried Netrunner back across the bridge to the entrance.

"We should cut our losses."

"What do we care?", Yuri shrugged, unconvinced, and gave his colonel a defiant look.

Kurt's eyebrows drew together. They had grown greyer over the years. He was approaching forty-five, not particularly than but older.

And you could see it in his eyes.

Lost in thoughts, you caressed your arm with fingertips. Chrome made people age more slowly, sometimes not at all. One day they just dropped dead, even though the body didn't look older than thirty.

There wasn't a huge age difference between you and the colonel, not by Night City standards at least. And yet you wouldn't know what it was like to grow old with him. Not in the natural way.

Again your hand returned to your neck, as it had so often in the last seven years. And again you couldn't suppress the feeling of digging your fingernails into the flesh.

Myers' killswitch was still inside you. The fact that Kurt was ageing, naturally and without a care thanks to your help, was like a mirror to your fear.

Every day could be your last, every dream the end. And yet you couldn't help but be greedy. You wanted more, so much more. Longer days, brighter nights, just a second more if it meant being by his side.

If it had been possible, you would have replaced every part of your body just to make sure that Myers couldn't create any nasty surprises.

But that wasn't possible. Because during a system change, Four's algorithm had noticed that the chip had been rejected. Thanks to the subliminal influence of the killswitch.

Myers had not only put a leash on you but also a limit, a cage. The body you had seven years ago, with all its cyberware and chips, was exactly the same as the one you had now. And if something had to be replaced or repaired, that wasn't an option.

The killswitch categorised anything new as a threat and aggressively rejected it. You were trapped in your own body. And it would also be your own body that killed you one day.

Not in old age, with greying hair and deep wrinkles like Kurt, but like a terrorist with sparks shooting out of your joints and breaking your neck.

Put to sleep like a wild animal. Yet you had spent years serving this woman faithfully like a dog.

"The Lady Sapphire will accompany me.", the familiar rasp in Kurt's voice cut through the fog of your thoughts.