[ Spoil the mood. Yeah, that's one way to describe it. But between being fresh off his latest death via Soulkiller (is he even human anymore, person to cyborg to code?), the gnawing dread he still only has six months left to live, and the whiplash of Johnny's loss then his (near) immediate return, all his nerves are shot. Taut, like a pulled rope holding by a few fibers.

Everything hurts. And it hurts that everything hurts, even when it shouldn't — weakness, in Night City's best merc, the guy who needs to hold it together for them both. ] 'M so tired, Johnny. [ He admits, the pain of existence overwhelming. ] I'm happy — happiest I've ever been — but I'm also so fuckin' tired. [ Can't even reciprocate what he knows is a monumental step — a soft kiss, vulnerable and true. ] I love you, and I gave it my all, but now I'm afraid got nothin' left to give. Just... a ghost, fadin' in this dying machine.