Following the first chapter, the origin story of VIP3R continues with REL3ASE. Like the previous, this also originally appeared on Twitter as a thread and a choose-your-own-adventure poll to allow followers to guide the story. This chapter is now collectable via Mirror. Join VIP3R’s community for more stories and resources to mobilize the future marketer with web3 and AI.

-- Reggie

▸▸ ᴅᴀᴛᴀꜰᴇᴇᴅ ɪɴᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ.

The signal had to have been alien.

The terminal used old, foreign code, nearly impossible to decode. But a good hacker has a program for everything.

The signal points to a map: Mega City shipyards.

The shipyard is popular for the import / export of illegal weapons and cyberware.

The runners settle on a netrun for a frictionless infiltration. Which meant two options: cut the shipyard power, or turn the ship turrets against 'em?

Despite a long debate over newly discovered pre-war vodka, minimizing risk made the most tactical sense.

Hack the turrets, geek everyone off the board.

Messy. But it works.

---

Outside the shipyard, a hacker jacks into a service area in search of security nodes.

ICE (node defense) typically isn't an issue for a good runner. It's the black type that make 'em worry.

It's done. A simultaneous sound of mechanical rotations. Gunfire lights the yard.

Turrets cease, and the hacker shuts down the security system and wipes their tracks before jacking out.

Blood litters the shipyard. Better them.

En route to the signal, an ajar shipping container is seen ahead, bright beams shooting from inside the steel walls.

The immovable door blew off the shipping container. A well placed C-6 will always leave a clean cut.

Inside, the runners discover hundreds of brand new cyberdecks worth millions of cred.

Cha-fragging-ching.

Leaving a tracer behind, the runners continue for the signal.

Stepping inside the hull of an abandoned shipping vessel, the runners encounter a containment cell, flanked by a string of dead security guards.

Inside, an entity sits quietly, eyes closed, head down.

It isn't human.

In a world full of disorder, there's no hurt in unleashing the unknown.

Shutting the defenses down, the runners ask who he is.

"Razer", as he stands. "And it's about fraggin' time you mudboys arrived."

The runners have only heard about the ancient race, the Skulls.

Manipulator of worlds & unceremoniously defiant, their alien species has been mostly wiped for their mischievousness.

"Need those cyberdecks you found. Bring 'em to the hideout. I'll explain more there."

"Haven't seen this fraggin' dump since the Uprise."

Razer materializes through the wall.

Skulls are not only intangible, but are said to be telepathic.

Shifting his gaze to the runners, he snarls, "You're all part of VIP3R now."

VIP3R, he describes, is a rogue band of hackers and mercenaries waging silent wars with oppressive governments and corporations.

In previous conflicts, Razer led VIP3R against countless corporations.

Skulls are behind most global turmoil.

The Uprise saw the destruction of leading corporation RelCorp, at the expense of Razer's freedom.

He had been contained since.

RelCorp rebirthed as Rel Media Group (RMG -- the red pyramid), extorting and murdering their way to monopolizing all advertising in Mega City.

"Got them decks?", referring to the hundreds of cyberdecks recovered from the shipyard.

"All you mudboys and dirtgirls. Wire your ass up. RMG have zeroed enough lives", slamming his metallic fist into a terminal.

"Training starts now."

▸▸ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ.