So, you've battled through the neon-drenched hellscape of Night City, dodged more glitches than you care to remember (especially back in the day), and finally carved out your legend. But what happens when the chrome comes off and the real world, a surprisingly mundane one, comes knocking? The Phantom Liberty expansion, the glorious cherry on top of Cyberpunk 2077's incredible redemption arc, offered an answer that was less of a bang and more of a contemplative whisper: The Tower ending. Fast forward to 2026, with whispers of "Project Orion" growing louder, and one has to ask: isn't this the perfect, bittersweet launchpad for the next chapter in the Cyberpunk saga?
The End of the Legend, The Birth of a Legend-Maker
Let's face it, most of Cyberpunk 2077's original endings were... well, dramatic. A blaze of glory, a one-way ticket to the crystal palace, or a desperate raid on Arasaka Tower—all epic, all leaving V's fate hanging by a thread (or a Relic chip). They were finales fit for a legend. But The Tower ending? That's a different beast entirely. By siding with the ever-enigmatic Solomon Reed and making the cold, hard choice with Songbird, V trades a legendary death for a painfully ordinary life. Two years in a coma, waking up to a world that moved on without you? Ouch. Your chrome is kaput, your closest friends have scattered to the winds, and your days of soloing Arasaka security are over. Sounds like a downer, right? Or does it?
From Solo to Schemer: V's New Role
Think about it. What do you lose as V in The Tower ending? The ability to get into a straight-up firefight. What do you gain? Arguably, everything else. V's brain is a veritable databank of Night City's darkest secrets. They've negotiated with corpo suits, brawled with gang leaders, and seen the city's underbelly from the inside out. They know which fixer pays on time, which ripperdoc won't sell you out, and which corpo middle-manager is one bad day away from needing a discreet problem solved. Who better to become the ultimate Fixer? This isn't a retirement; it's a lateral career move from the weapon to the one who points it. Imagine walking into a seedy bar in Project Orion, not to take a gig, but to offer one. The new protagonist needs a top-tier netrunner? "I know a guy." Need a quiet way into a Militech black site? "Let me make a call." V's value is no longer in their trigger finger, but in their contact list and their brutally earned wisdom. Isn't that the ultimate power in a city built on information?
The Other Path: Government Man (or Woman)
Of course, The Tower ending doesn't just open the door to the Afterlife's VIP booth. Remember that ticket to Langley? By working with Reed and the FIA, V is now a known—and presumably valued—asset to the New United States of America. This sets up a fascinating alternative. What if, in Project Orion, V isn't a free agent fixer, but a government spook? Picture this: the new protagonist gets tangled in a web of intrigue that spans from the Badlands to the orbital stations. Their only lifeline? A handler with a familiar voice, offering cryptic advice and "official" deniability. V could be the new Reed, a mentor figure operating from the shadows of Langley, using their unique, street-level experience to guide (or manipulate) the new hero. Talk about coming full circle!
Why The Tower is the Perfect Prologue for Project Orion
So, why should this specific, quiet ending be the canonical starting point for the sequel? Let's break it down:
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Narrative Clean Slate: It resolves V's personal Relic crisis definitively. No more ticking clock. This allows Project Orion to tell a completely new story without the baggage of V's impending death hanging over it.
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World-Building Goldmine: Those two years V was in a coma? That's a narrative playground. What seismic shifts happened in Night City during that time? New gangs? A fallen corp? A rising star? V waking up to it all allows the game to naturally exposition-dump the new status quo to both the character and the player.
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Legacy, Not Limelight: It allows V to transition from protagonist to pivotal supporting character with perfect logic. They're not the star anymore, but their influence is everywhere. They're the connective tissue between the old world and the new.
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Emotional Weight: Meeting V again, seeing them settled into a powerful but perhaps lonely role, carries immense emotional resonance for players who lived their original journey. It honors that investment without requiring a rehash.
The Verdict: A Fixer's Future Awaits
While the government spook path has its allure, the Fixer route feels most inherently Cyberpunk. Night City's soul isn't in its government offices; it's in its back alleys, its ripperdocs, and its bars where mercs and fixers make deals over synth-beers. V as the new "go-to" Fixer, perhaps even operating from a reclaimed and renovated Embers or a new establishment, is a poetic and powerful evolution. They'd be the living memory of the city, a curator of chaos. The Tower ending gave V a "happy" ending, sure, but in Night City, happiness is just another commodity. For Project Orion, it offers something far more valuable: a perfect bridge to the future, paved with the bullet casings and broken dreams of the past. So, when we finally get our hands on Project Orion, keep an ear out for a familiar name on the holo. Someone's got a gig for you.