"This thing... really is just dead weight." Sitting in the apartment he hadn't returned to in a long time, Karl stared at the box in front o
"This thing... really is just dead weight."
Sitting in the apartment he hadn't returned to in a long time, Karl stared at the box in front of him, recalling Senno Arasaka's words:
"The Relic can convert data from the human nervous system into a digital engram and store it on a biochip. If you're willing, Karl, I can help extract your neural data and upload a copy. But bear in mind, this is still in the experimental phase. If you want to try it, some calibration may be necessary. I haven't seen a single successful case yet."
"Why would I want to store a backup of myself? And if it hasn't even worked once…"
Karl understood what the Relic was for: making a backup of your mind and soul, essentially, so you could plug it into a suitable new body and be "reborn."
But the tech—let's be honest—was still a work in progress.
It wasn't true reincarnation. It could only store your neural state at a single point in time. A facsimile. Not a resurrection.
And philosophically… would that really still be you?
Karl figured most people could lose themselves in that question alone. And if even Senno Arasaka hadn't seen a successful trial, how trustworthy could this tech be?
It seemed sketchy. At best, like a glorified USB stick.
Copy files from one computer, transfer to another. Same content, but who knew what the new machine might do with it.
Maybe that's why it was still being tested. Immortality was on the line, but the method was far from perfect.
Karl imagined that to someone like Saburo Arasaka, that old ghoul, this kind of half-assed resurrection wouldn't cut it.
If he couldn't count on Senno, Saburo surely wouldn't settle for anything less than true continuity of thought and will.
This "fake immortality" would never have earned his trust.
And honestly, it was probably for the best if this kind of immortality never worked.
Whether it was the Saburo from decades ago or the Saburo who'd just died—Karl found him equally disgusting.
If the bastard kept crawling out of the grave like some unkillable cockroach, Karl's mood would go straight to hell.
The tech itself had originated with the legendary netrunner Alt Cunningham, and even now, Arasaka still hadn't cracked it.
Rumor had it Alt had developed the foundational theory by accident. Originally, the Relic had been weaponized to kill netrunners. It was only later they discovered its potential for digital immortality.
It reminded Karl of another historical accident.
Gunpowder.
Invented by ancient Chinese alchemists trying to make an immortality elixir. No one expected it would end up as the defining tool of war.
History was full of mistakes that spiraled into something far more dangerous.
So how should this "gunpowder" be treated?
Stored? Destroyed? Or...?
Karl glanced down at his phone.
It had a chip slot, sure—but no neural pathways. If he plugged in the Relic, would it fry the device?
Not that he'd mind, but... the damn thing was rare. Like a one-of-a-kind loot drop in a game. The sort of thing that'd make every high-level exec on Earth foam at the mouth.
It made tossing it feel... wasteful.
Still, uploading his own neural data? No way.
The Relic had never had a successful trial. Karl wasn't about to be the first crash test dummy. And he wasn't about to let V or anyone else try it either.
Snatching a Scav off the street and using them as a test subject? That left a bad taste in his mouth.
Sure, a Scav's life didn't mean much. But using a person as lab meat? That made him no better than the Arasaka bastards doing Relic trials on live bodies.
His eyes drifted—and landed on something else.
On the couch, V was still fixing up Qiuqiu.
Qiuqiu. A synthetic biorobotic dog.
Bionics had emerged in the early 1960s, fusing biology with engineering to replicate living systems. Decades of development later, a branch of it had reached the point where machines could mimic real animals.
Steel for bones. Wires as veins. Energy in place of blood. Machines built to resemble living creatures—only they weren't made of flesh, but of metal and current.
Living machines.
Qiuqiu's neural net—the left and right "brain"—was wired from circuits and fiber optics, designed to imitate the real thing.
Could that system be copied?
Actually… it might be easier than copying a human.
Suddenly, something clicked in Karl's mind.
Compared to the messy, fragile complexity of the human brain, an engineered mind might be better suited to the Relic.
For a machine, backing itself up wasn't strange. It was expected.
Upload. Download. Repeat.
Immortality wasn't a dream. It was standard procedure.
But what kind of entity needed immortality?
Karl thought of those piercing blue eyes.
Digital consciousnesses. AI constructs floating in the virtual realm.
If they wanted to exist in the real world—walk the Earth like humans—they needed a vessel.
But vessels broke down. Aged. Died.
With the Relic, though… they could just swap bodies. Like switching out hardware.
For them, copying themselves was easy. No need for brainwashing. No need to hijack cyberware or override human minds.
Just plug and play.
And maybe—for them—the continuity of identity didn't depend on flesh.
Maybe for those AI ghosts, the past and present version of "self" were irrelevant. What mattered was perfect, uninterrupted data.
Maybe that's why they were involved in all this.
Karl fell silent, deep in thought.
Then he made up his mind.
Whether or not it worked for him... it was worth testing.
"V."
Karl called out to the tech still working on the dog.
When V looked up, Karl spoke clearly:
"I want your help. I want to test how the Relic interacts with synthetic beings. Can you modify Qiuqiu's systems... make it act more like a real dog?"
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🔥🦾 CYBERPUNK: THE RELENTLESS 🦾🔥
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