Night City don't have gods or kings, not even citizens. Instead, they have electric sheep under surveillance machines, whose movements are algorithmically combined within Big Data barns. They are people without history or roots. They're network people. They have aerials.

In the middle of her capsule room, Saoko’s eyes stare at the web. Sugar and sodium overdosed, connected to Night City. She never sleeps, she lives in the game… lost in the glow of the screen, neon lights and shadows.

She’s Level 6000 in Warcraft, the Pythoness on Fire from the Horde. Her visions come from the forbidden past, from the dark ages.

All she needs is a thoughtful, somber, even analogue book that honors the past and resurrects electrical ancestors to the current chemical frenzy.

She likes living simply. And she likes living alone. She has grown up disliking physical affection.