Hey everyone, it's your average merc here, diving back into the neon-drenched hellscape of Night City in 2026. Even now, years after its release and countless updates, Cyberpunk 2077 remains a masterclass in crafting a world that's equal parts mesmerizing and utterly horrifying. Every shadow in this city seems to hide a new nightmare, and every gig can lead you down a rabbit hole of human depravity. As V, we've seen it all—but some missions stick with you long after the credits roll, haunting your thoughts and making you question everything. So, let's grab a synth-beer and revisit the absolute darkest, most gut-wrenching quests this game has to offer. Buckle up, chooms, because this is going to be a rough ride.
The Haunting Legacy of Johnny Silverhand
Remember that mission where we finally tracked down Johnny's body? Man, that was something else. After earning Rogue's trust and getting a lead on Adam Smasher, we ended up at the docks, facing off against goons like Jeremiah Grayson—the guy who had the audacity to wield Silverhand's old gun! Forced to spill the beans, he told us where Johnny was buried. What followed was a trip to the oil fields, a place of desolation with no marker, no memorial. Just... rubble. They tossed his corpse away like yesterday's trash. Standing there with Johnny's engram in my head, watching him confront his own forgotten physical form... it was a weirdly intimate moment of bonding amidst the bleakness. We weren't just memorializing a terrorist to the world; we were saying goodbye to the guy who, for better or worse, was literally sharing my brain. A dark quest, sure, but one with a tiny spark of something resembling closure between two unlikely friends.
Faith Shattered: The Monk's Cybernetic Nightmare
Cruelty and Night City are basically synonymous, right? But the "Losing My Religion" gig hit different. Finding that monk in the cargo bay, absolutely distraught because he'd been forcibly chromed up against his beliefs... my heart sank. His brother was captured by Maelstrom, facing the same horrific fate. In a city where kindness is a currency rarer than honest cops, helping him felt like the bare minimum. We could storm in, take down the Maelstrom gangoons, and be the hero. But here's the kicker: even after the rescue, the damage was permanent. The cyberware couldn't be removed. This man's faith, his entire identity, was shattered because of some gang's sick idea of fun. It's a stark reminder that in Night City, sometimes saving someone doesn't mean you can fix them. The scars here run deeper than flesh and metal.
The Ultimate Price: V's "Cure" in Phantom Liberty
Ah, the Phantom Liberty ending. The one that promises a cure. After all the chaos with Songbird and the NUSA, Solomon Reed offers a deal: a surgery with the world's best to remove the Relic. Johnny begs you not to do it—he knows it means being ripped from your head like a tumor, erased without a choice. But if you go through with it... you wake up. Two. Years. Later. 😱
The operation was a "success." The Relic is gone. But so is everything else. Night City moved on. Your friends? They've built lives without you. Judy's in Pittsburgh, Panam won't even answer your calls. And the final gut punch? Any cyberware will now kill you. You're back to being a baseline human in a city of gods, completely alone. You traded your legend, your connections, your very ability to survive in this world, for a "normal" life. Was it worth it? Becoming just another nameless face in the crowd after everything you've been through? This ending doesn't just ask a question; it sits on your chest and makes you feel the weight of that choice.
The Tragedy of Evelyn Parker
Evelyn's story is pure, unadulterated tragedy. Teaming up with Judy to find her, following leads through the city's worst slums, only to discover she'd been sold to the Scavs... it makes your blood run cold. The Scavs are the absolute bottom-feeders of Night City, and what they do for eddies is beyond sick. They don't just kill people; they strip them of their chrome and produce "X-BDs"—recordings of torture and abuse. Finding Evelyn in that state, broken and used, is one of the most viscerally upsetting moments in the game. It's a brutal exposure of the city's underbelly, where people are commodities to be consumed and discarded. This quest isn't about a big firefight; it's about the quiet horror of realizing just how cheap life can be.
Sinister Family Business: The BD Editors
Regina Jones sends you on a gig to retrieve a raw BD—the one showing the murder of Bryce Stone's son. Simple enough, until you get there. The editors working on this snuff film? A father and son team. 🤢 They're calmly editing a video of a child's murder for underground profit. The game puts their fate in your hands. Do you kill the father? The son? Both? Let them live? There's no "good" choice here. It's a mission designed to make you complicit, to force you to engage with the evil. Do you become judge, jury, and executioner, or do you walk away and let Night City's cycle of cruelty continue unabated? It's a chilling look at how corruption can be a family trade.
A Mayor's Stolen Mind: The Peralez Conspiracy
This one creeps up on you. Helping Jefferson Peralez in his mayoral campaign seems noble. But then the mystery deepens. You uncover a full-blown conspiracy to mind-control him and his wife, Elizabeth. We're talking subliminal wavelengths, drugged food, memory alteration—the whole dystopian package. The realization that they've never had a private thought, that their entire lives are being rewritten by unseen forces, is terrifying. And the mastermind? The enigmatic Mr. Blue Eyes. The worst part? No matter what you tell Jefferson, it's too late. The operation is too deep. You can warn him, but you can't save him. Their free will is already gone, sacrificed to a power far greater than any corp or government. It's a quest that leaves you feeling utterly powerless, questioning if anyone in Night City is ever truly in control of their own life.
Desperation and the Blackwall: Songbird's Fate
Phantom Liberty's "Somewhat Damaged" is an exercise in pure terror. If you side with Solomon Reed, you pursue Songbird as she taps into the forbidden Blackwall. The result? You're hunted through a crumbling facility by rogue AIs that manifest as a relentless, mechanical monster. The atmosphere is pure survival horror. When you finally find Songbird, the truth is worse than any monster: her mind is being overwritten, consumed by the very AIs she tried to harness. She's trapped, a hollow vessel. The choice she gives you is heartbreaking: grant her mercy (let her die free) or condemn her to an eternal prison in her own mind as a bargaining chip for the NUSA. There is no happy ending here, only varying degrees of tragedy. It's a mission that explores the cost of desperation and the horror of losing one's self.
The Crucifixion: Sin and Spectacle
Then there's Joshua Stephenson. A repentant killer who believes he can atone by reenacting the crucifixion of Christ. Yeah, you read that right. And a BD producer is right there, eager to film his death for profit. Joshua asks for your presence, for support in his final moments. The game then forces you to participate—you can be the one to literally nail his hands and feet to the cross. It's deeply uncomfortable, blurring the lines between genuine faith, twisted penance, and grotesque entertainment. Are you facilitating a sacred act or a snuff film? The mission offers no easy answers, just profound discomfort.
The Stuff of Nightmares: The Hunt
And we have to talk about "The Hunt." Just the name gives me chills. Partnering with River Ward to find his missing nephew leads you to the lair of the "Peter Pan" serial killer, Anthony Harris. To find the victims, you have to dive into the killer's comatose mind via BD, experiencing the abuse that warped him into a monster. It's a deeply unsettling psychological journey. The final location, Edgewood Farm, is a house of horrors disguised as a home. Protected by turrets and mines, inside you find the victims—drugged, malnourished boys being fed cattle feed. It's a visceral, sickening exploration of predation and trauma that stands as one of the darkest narrative threads in any game. It's not just about stopping a killer; it's about staring into the abyss of how one is created.
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Why Do We Keep Coming Back to the Darkness?
So, why do we, as players, subject ourselves to this? Night City is a brutal, unforgiving place. These missions aren't just side content; they're the soul of the game. They force us to confront questions about identity, morality, free will, and the price of survival. They show us that the real horror isn't always in the chrome or the gunfights—it's in the quiet moments of betrayal, the irreversible loss, and the chilling realization that in this dystopia, the system is designed to break you, one soul at a time. It's a powerful, if deeply unsettling, experience. What do you think, chooms? Which of these dark quests left the biggest mark on you? Let me know down below. Stay safe out there in the streets... as safe as you can be, anyway. ✌️