Judy: Cyber Eyes by Jade Gretz

https://www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai/art/Judy-Cyber-Eyes-1234288472

Judy: Cyber Eyes ANIMATION

Neon Ashes of Westbridge

Jude Alvara liked to say she belonged to the city the way a shadow belonged to a flame—never the star of the show, but inseparably tied to whatever burned. Tonight, Westbridge burned brighter than usual. Neon rain flared against windows like electric tears; holographic billboards blinked warnings she never bothered reading; and deep under the pulse of the nightlife, something hunted.

She stepped through the side-door of The Last Lane, a dive bar wedged like a bad memory between shuttered noodle stalls and a derelict braindance parlor. The neon sign flickered in blues and poisoned magentas, reflecting in puddles like smoldering oil. Inside, the air smelled of swallowed secrets and cheap synth-whiskey. Jude’s chrome-rimmed eyes surveyed the clientele: low-tier info brokers, washed-out mercs, a few street poets with neural jack scars. Harmless on a good day. Harmless tonight—if luck held.

Luck never held.

“Back again, Jude?” asked the bartender—an old man named Mercer, part human, part something welded decades ago. His metal jaw hummed as he spoke. “Trouble follows you like static.”

She slid onto the stool. “I’m here to meet someone. Keep the static down.”

He chuckled, filling a glass from a bottle labeled Blue Ash Distillate—the kind that tasted like it had opinions. “A quiet night,” he assured, “unless you brought fireworks.”

“Not tonight,” she lied.

A young woman occupied the far booth, lit by the hum of a pink lamp. She watched Jude with a mixture of envy and caution—the sort of look Jude received often. Jude’s reputation scuttled ahead of her like a scouting drone. Tech-artist. Data-witch. A woman who could slip inside locked networks as if through silk curtains.

But in Westbridge, whispers traveled faster than light. And someone else had whispered her name.

Jude checked her message stream. The job offer glowed in her retinal overlay:

Classified anomaly detected. Rogue NetGuard synthetics disrupting network flows. Location triangulated—Last Lane. Danger level: unknown. Reward substantial.

It came unsigned. Anonymous cred was almost always a trap. But traps sometimes led to treasure—or at least to answers.

She leaned close to Mercer. “Anything strange tonight?”

He wiped a glass with a rag. “Strange? That’s our happy hour special.”

“No. I mean the kind of strange that crawls.”

Mercer’s eyes glimmered. “We had a few tall figures in here about thirty minutes ago. Not exactly drinking. Standing still. Asking for you.”

“Corporate?”

He shook his head slowly. “More like… mechanical. The old industrial type. No faces. Just masks of light. They left something.”

“What?”

He pointed to the end of the bar. A small black prism, like a chunk of night itself, sat unattended.

Jude picked it up carefully. It vibrated minutely—almost eager, the way hungry things might tremble.

“Don’t plug that in,” Mercer warned.

“Relax,” she replied, tucking it into her coat. “Not that foolish.”

The bar lights dimmed suddenly. All conversation withered. Someone muttered about a rolling blackout. Someone else swore they saw shapes outside the windows—tall, insectile silhouettes sweeping red sensors along the street.

Jude’s fingers drifted toward the concealed neural cable at her temple. If she needed to jack into the local grid, she would. But she felt watched—by more than those across the bar.

A voice behind her whispered, “You should have stayed out of Westbridge.”

Jude turned. A lean figure in a trench coat slid into the booth nearest hers, face hidden beneath a hood lined with static mesh. His voice was gravel made electronic.

“And who might you be?” she asked.

“A friend. Once. Call me Grail.”

“People who say ‘friend once’ usually end up pointing guns.”

He raised empty hands. “No firearms tonight. We’re already surrounded.”

As if on cue, a tremor rippled through the building. Glass quivered. Neon flickered. The front door swung open, but nobody entered; instead, a cold wind gusted inside stained with metallic tang. For an instant Jude imagined distant servers groaning beneath invisible pressure—like a network screaming.

Mercer reached under the bar. “We close early tonight.”

From the shadowed hallway to the back, a soft clicking echoed. Not footsteps. More like claws.

Jude’s heart tightened. “Mercer, do you
...(more at https://www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai).
For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)