Prologue

I jolted awake to the sound of clinking. Looking around, I was in some sort of cave. Clink, clink, clink. The last thing I remembered was going to sleep in my bedroom, how did I get here? Clink, Clink, Clink. It looked like the cave I was in had been carved out of the living rock of a mountain with a flourish. Clink, Clink, Clink. Fluted, Corinthian, Columns and semi-circular arches were carved into the rock by an expert hand. Clink, Clink, Clink. The floor was tiled with geometric designs in an expertly-crafted mosaic while flickering orange flames flickered in bronze torch sconces that appeared completely symmetrically forged. Clink, Clink, Clink. Looking up, a dome in the ceiling was inlaid with a perfectly made fresco of a shirtless man in a smith's apron hammering away at a volcanic forge. Clink, Clink, Clink.

"All right, what is that noise?" I questioned.

It seemed to be coming from down a hallway, so I pushed myself up and headed down that way. Aside from more bronze torch sconces with flickering torches set into them, the walls also were carved with bas-reliefs of various crafts and craftsmen. Here, a Woodworker carved a chest of drawers, there a Mason built a temple, while nearby a Smith forged a blade. Leatherworkers, Glassblowers, Clockmakers, and onward, every type of craft was carved into the walls, each practiced by a master with a master's capability. It wasn't just mundane crafts either, as I spotted an Alchemist brewing potions, an Enchanter imbuing power into a piece of armor, and a Runesmith carving runes into a door. I even spotted a number of science fiction crafts, a Cyberdoc installing a cybernetic eye, a Geneticist cloning an arm, a Roboticist creating an android, and so on.

I exited the corridor what seemed like hours later and found myself in a workshop. All sorts of workbenches, tools, and crafting stations lie around a single chamber, more packed into this non-euclidean space that was bigger on the inside like some kind of Tardis. At a forge lying in an alcove, looking like something you'd see out of a fantasy story, with molten rock fueling the forge and the like, was a Man. Bearded, apron blackened with soot, scars running along his legs, arms, and chest. As he worked, sparks flew off his anvil, blooming into galaxies and stars before fading away. As I saw him, I knew exactly who this was. My ancestors on my mother's side had worshipped him in ancient days whenever they required something crafted.

"Vulcan!" I breathed.

"That is one of my names, yes. A moment please." Huffed the Smith.

I felt like I held my breath as the God of the Forge hammered the blade he was working one last time, a beautiful thing of bronze and steel that he then pulled off the forge with tongs and quenched in a nearby barrel of indeterminate liquid with a hissing sound and a rush of steam. He pulled the blade out of the barrel, and inspected it closely, before nodding once as if satisfied. Then he set the blade aside and turned to me with a grin.

"Now, I suppose you're wondering why you're here, and how as well, yes?" Queried Vulcan.

"Yes. Please." I nodded.

"That's simple. You died." Responded Vulcan.

"What? How?" I asked.

"Gas leak. The mains under your home hadn't been inspected since they were installed in the nineties. That was thirty years ago. Shoddy work, that." Huffed Vulcan.

"Huh. So why am I here? No offense, Your Godliness, but I wasn't exactly expecting this." I questioned.

"I know. However, there are actually more things in Heaven and Earth than were dreamt of in your philosophy." Grinned Vulcan.

"Clearly. So what now?" I queried.

"I have need of you. Tell me, have you heard of the Omniverse?" Asked Vulcan.

"It's a concept. A sort of multiverse encompassing multiverses. Every conceivable universe packed into one umbrella, real life, mythological, fiction, and even ones no one thought of yet." I answered.

"Indeed. It just so happens that every few decades, all the pantheons get together and play a little game. We draw lots, pick champions, and have ourselves a little tournament with the Omniverse as the stage. It just so happens that I drew one of the entry lots this time around." Nodded Vulcan.

"And you want me to be your champion?" I pressed.

"You did believe in reincarnation, yes? Think of this as a way to put your finger on the karmic scales." Smirked Vulcan.

"What do I have to do? What are the rules? Who am I up against?" I demanded.

"I know you have questions, and I will answer them, but you must give me a chance to do so." Chuckled Vulcan.

"Right. Sorry." I apologized.

"So. To answer your first question, the Judges of the Great Game are the Fates. Not just the Moirai, but the Norns, Rozhanitsy, Matres, and so on. Every Fate Diety from every pantheon sits on the Jury, so as to be impartial. You must impress them, typically by solving problems in various universes or slaying other Champions. Each time the Jury will award points for the action and the Champion with the most points at the end of the Game wins." Informed Vulcan.

"What do we win?" I questioned.

"Why, godlike power and the right to travel the Omniverse as you see fit, of course." Intoned Vulcan.

"Godlike power? Explain please?" I queried.

"Each God grants their Champion a boon for the Game which will grow over time. As I am a God of Crafts and the Forge, should you accept, I will grant you a power you know of as the Celestial Forge." Responded Vulcan.

"Killer. So who am I up against?" I asked.

"There will be champions from Flidais, Irish Goddess of Agriculture and Animals, Caishen, Chinese God of Wealth, Loki, the Trickster of the Aesir, Heset, Egyptian Goddess of Food and Drink, Kubera, Japanese God of Trade, and Whiro, Maori God of Evil." Answered Vulcan.

"Only seven contestants? That's not much of a Tournament." I frowned.

"Seven is traditional. It's lucky." Insisted Vulcan.

"Still, I'd expect at least eight for a proper bracket. Sixteen is better." I pointed out.

"It's not that sort of tournament." Shrugged Vulcan.

"Apparently not. So, are there any rules aside from what you've already gone through?" I questioned.

"Yes. Should you accomplish something that nets you a load of points, you'll be jumped to a different part of the Omniverse. You can jump back, mind you, but only if you find something that can help you do so. This is done so the Game is kept fresh and Champions don't get to farm points without ever coming into conflict." Explained Vulcan.

"Right. What constitutes a jumpable score?" I queried.

"Generally? Solving a major problem, something that would be considered the plot of a game or a major event from a comic or similar, were this still something on your original Earth. So would killing another Champion." Responded Vulcan.

"Right. So how do we do this?" I asked.

"I will invest in you the power of the Celestial Forge, along with one thousand points, though those will have to be paid back on credit from your next upgrades. Effectively, I will be taking half of your power upgrades in points to pay back your celestial debt. Then, I will send you out into the Omniverse to a Universe of your choosing with an identity. You'll have an identity with each jump, by the way. We tried dropping people into Universes Ex Nihilio before and it doesn't work these days." Answered Vulcan.

"Good to know. Do I get to pick any universe?" I questioned.

"Within reason. I won't be sending you to someplace boring to live a Slice-of-Life story or something similar. This is a contest, after all, you're supposed to earn points." Huffed Vulcan.

"I figured. Have any of the other Champions already gone? And if so, can you tell me where they landed?" I queried.

"Fishing for a head start?" Asked Vulcan.

"Maybe." I admitted.

"As it happens, Heshet, Whiro, Kubera, Caishen, and Flidais' Champions have already gone through. You're one of the more inquisitive Champions this round. As to where they landed, I cannot tell you. The initial start must be a level playing field." Intoned Vulcan.

"Sucks to be them. You should understand the rules of any game you want to play. Very well, I think I'll pick Cyberpunk. Let's get this show on the road." I chose.

"You will be sent there in October of Twenty-Seventy-Six. Now, Brace yourself, this might hurt a second." Cautioned Vulcan.

I did so, steeling myself as best I could. Vulcan went back to his forge, limping slightly from the scars in his legs, to grab something. When he turned back around, he had the blade he had just forged, the one that had thrown up cosmic sparks, in hand. My eyes widened as he lunged for me with the blade. I tried to move away, but a God, even a hobbled one, was far faster than a mere mortal. The leaf-shaped blade plunged into my chest, sliding in without any resistance as my flesh, parted. I say flesh, but I realized moments before my mind caught up with me, that my body wasn't flesh, but soul stuff. The cosmic weapon glowed, imbuing me with the power of the Cosmic Forge. Then the pain hit me all at once and I screamed. I screamed for what felt like days as my very soul caught on fire, imbued with the power of the Cosmic Forge.

"Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!" I pleaded.

Vulcan merely turned away from me, not even removing the blade that was now pulsing with light regularly like a heartbeat. The last image I saw in Vulcan's Workshop was the blade flash one more time before discorporating into more little galaxies and stars that then began to merge with my soul as the pain intensified to an unbearable level. I screamed louder for a brief moment, unable to bear the renewed pain.

Then, mercifully, I blacked out, feeling and seeing no more. . .

XXXX

"Good Morning Night City! Yesterday's body count rounded up to an easy-as-pie five! Most of the City was still locked down after last week's high-speed chase and the terrorist attack on Arasaka Tower! Speaking of which, we've got an update that the Lockdown's supposed to end today, so I hope all you folks are ready for that 'cause you all know how that sort of thing goes! Word on the street is Sixth Street and the Valentinos are itching to resume their fighting just as soon as the lockdown ends! This has been your man, Stan, hope you're ready for another day in our City of Dreams!" Blared the Radio as I bolted upright.

Looking around, I found myself in a bed set in a little nook in the wall like in a Japanese Capsule Hotel. Unlike that, this apartment actually seemed to have a room. A combination living room and bedroom, a small kitchenette on one wall opposite the bed, while next to the bed-pod was a futuristic PC setup, and a pair of doors on the third wall led to a pair of small rooms, with the front door leading out into a hallway. It honestly reminded me of V's apartment somewhat from the Game. No window, though, however, a pair of S.C.S.M Vending Machines were set into the wall instead. I frowned as the strains of some Lazrpop Bullshit sounded out over the Radio. Some Japanese Idol Band bought and paid for by Kiroshi Optics. I slammed my hand down on the radio and it switched off obliging. Then I pushed myself out of bed.

"At least it wasn't Ponpon Shit. Still trash music, though." I grumbled.

I rolled my shoulders and headed for the miscellaneous doors. Somehow, I knew one would lead to a stash area while another would lead to the bathroom. Bathroom first, time to see what I was working with here. I strode over to the bathroom, checking myself out in the mirror. I'd gotten a race swap, apparently. I'd been a white guy, but now I looked vaguely Latino. I'd also been aged down to a fit twenty-something and given what looked like a basic set of Cranial Implants. One of my eyes had been replaced with a bionic optic while part of my skull seemed to have been removed to add plating, implants, and a small data port. Intuitively, I knew these to be the basic set of Cranial Implants for a Novice Techpriest. One who hadn't yet replaced a significant portion of their body with Implants yet. Intuitively, I knew that they also came with a number of biological enhancements that had been designed by a Magos Biologis to enhance the flesh as well.

Aside from the augmentation, which replaced a chunk of the right side of my head, including fully replacing my right temple, I looked fairly handsome. Broad shoulders, muscular build, square jaw, only a few tattoos on my muscular biceps, the kind of thing that made me suspect that the gene-sculpting done by the Magos Biologis had some knock-on effects for hormone production and the like, though I wasn't as ripped as someone from the Animals would be. After all, I hadn't been specifically juiced with designer hormones, just likely had my endocrine system goosed a bit. I got the sense that I could figure out how that'd been done fairly easily, too. Looking down at my sink, I spotted a few household chemicals I could repurpose into a hormone adjuster, and not only that but other types of chemicals too.

"Huh, that's neat." I mused.

I left my bathroom to check my stash, finding a pair of black cowboy chinos with a microplate mesh, an aramid weave red and black tank top with a Santa Muerte Skull on it, a black and dark red armorweave longcoat, and a pair of dark red leather combat boots. I showered, threw those on, and grabbed the single, Millitec Lexington sitting there. I was already figuring out ways to make it more effective by replacing it with various plastics, ceramics, and other materials. Blinking that idea out of my mind, I headed out of my stash to check my messages when my stomach growled. I looked at one of the Vending Machines and frowned, I could hack that to give me a burrito or slice of pizza for free, but I'd need to be careful to not set off an alert from the company. Once a day should be fine to avoid that, though.

Heading over to the Vending machine, I jacked in tirelessly with my Mechanicus Cranial Implants and began to hack it. A few moments later, I had my free burrito without tripping any alarms and checked my messages. As I did, details about this life I'd been dropped into came to me. Apparently, my name was Ernesto 'Big E' Manfredi, the son of an Italian-American father and a Latina Mother. Of the two, my Old Man had been an associate with the Mob who married a grand-niece of Sébastien Ibarra, Padre from the Valentinos. My Old Man was supposed to keep the peace between the Night City Outfit and Valentinos with his marriage, then he got knifed over a gambling dispute with a guy who was connected to the Tyger Claws, and the deal fell through. Not before I'd been six months old, though. I'd been effectively connected to the Valentinos ever since.

"That explains the Santa Muerte Shirt." I mused.

As I finished reading my messages, though, another one popped up. Padre telling me to get my ass down to the Coyote Cojo tonight when the lockdown lifts and keep an eye on Jackie Welles. He was planning something stupid with a Rayfield Arondight and Padre wanted me to keep him from fucking up. I couldn't say no to that. After all, it might be the night he met V, assuming V had the Street Kid Lifepath. Getting involved there would definitely net me points for the Game. I sent back an affirmative and sat down with an eye on the TV. As soon as the lockdown lifted, I'd head over to the Glen and stop by the Coyote Cojo. I, unfortunately, lived in Megabuilding H-Five over the border in Vista Del Ray, so the Lockdown was keeping me cooped up here for the time being.

As soon as it lifted at noon, I was out the door ready to get stuck in the mix. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, here's the Prologue for the new story taking the place of Autumn Road. It's a Celestial Forge Multi-SI, Multi-Cross, Jumpchain. We're starting in Cyberpunk Twenty-Seventy-Seven, about a week after Edgerunners wrapped up and just as the main game starts up. You should also expect some stuff from the Tabletop to be thrown in too. More tabletop boostergangs and corps, for instance.

I'm not rolling for perks, by the way. That would get me perks I don't understand from things I haven't seen, so I wouldn't be writing them properly. The goal is a hundred points every one-thousand-five-hundred words, with the first thousand points already purchased on credit, for which fifty points out of every hundred of the next thousand points are subtracted to pay down the debt. It's a unique system to be sure, but one I feel comfortable with writing.

I'll have a Perk list and picture up shortly, but the next chapter will be meeting Padre at El Coyote Cojo.

Stay tuned. . .