I’ll never forget that soul-crushing moment when I finished Cyberpunk 2077 after 120 hours of blood, chrome, and tears. 😩 My V had clawed through Night City’s underbelly, made gut-wrenching choices, sacrificed lovers, and danced with digital ghosts—all for endings that felt like different flavors of despair! CD Projekt Red pulled off a miracle redeeming this masterpiece from its dumpster-fire launch, but now Project Orion (aka Cyberpunk 2) looms like a neon-lit colossus. It’s not just about topping 2077—it’s about fixing that existential betrayal where player agency evaporated faster than a braindance. We poured our souls into Night City only to learn our choices were decorative confetti in a corporate meat grinder. Project Orion MUST rewrite this dystopian gospel.
Let’s scream the ugly truth: Cyberpunk 2077’s endings were narrative cyanide. 💀 I romanced Panam, betrayed the Voodoo Boys, and maxed out my netrunning skills—yet every finale left me hollow. The ‘good’ ending? V either dies in six months or flees to Arizona as a shell. The ‘bad’ one? Enslaved by Arasaka or digitized into cyberspace limbo. Even the ‘secret’ ending with Johnny felt like swapping one ghost for another. CDPR hid behind genre conventions, muttering “high tech, low life” like a mantra. Bull. Shit. The genre’s bleakness shouldn’t mean our agency gets flatlined!
Here’s why it stung:
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Illusion of Choice™: Whether I sided with nomads or corpos, the endings blurred into grayscale misery. My 3AM moral dilemmas meant NOTHING.
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Emotional Blue Balls: That ‘bittersweet’ tag? Nah. It was like dating Night City for years only to get a breakup text: “U were fun but humanity’s doomed lol.”
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Replay Sabotage: Why bother? All roads lead to nihilism. Even Kerry Eurodyne’s sexy guitar solos couldn’t drown the dread.
Some apologists whine “But cyberpunk’s SUPPOSED to crush souls!” Fine. Keep the corporate overlords and chrome-plated despair. But if Project Orion lets us steer the narrative ship, why chain us to icebergs? Genre rules aren’t holy code—they’re suggestions written on wetware. The original Blade Runner had Roy Batty’s tears in the rain; even in darkness, beauty flickers. 2077 forgot that. Its world devoured humanity like cheap synth-noodles, reducing us to spectators in our own tragedy.
I need Orion to weaponize hope. Not Disney-fied rainbows—but ONE ending where my V’s sacrifices MATTER. Imagine:
🔥 The Rebel Victory: Rallying all factions to burn Arasaka to ash, carving a free zone from the ruins.
💡 The Net Prophet: Uniting AIs and humans to forge a new consciousness beyond corpo control.
✨ The Quiet Revolution: Using Johnny’s engram to ignite a city-wide uprising that outlives V.
Critics will screech “Unrealistic! Un-cyberpunk!” Yet what’s more punk than defiance? If my V dies, let it spark fires. If they live, let them build. 2077’s sin wasn’t bleakness—it was futility. Orion can honor the genre while respecting players. One meaningful ending changes everything. Suddenly, saving Saul or betraying Judy carries weight. Suddenly, we’re not roleplaying—we’re wage-warring for souls.
CDPR proved they listen. They resurrected 2077 from its glitchy grave. Now in 2025, Project Orion stands at the edge of greatness. Give us catharsis, not cosmic horror. Let my shotgun blasts echo in eternity. Let netrunners hack tyranny into oblivion. Let one ending—just ONE—feel like sunrise after a century of night.
I still love Night City. Its grime, its neon sins, its beautiful brokenness. But after tasting ash in 2077’s finale, I’m starving for a reason to return. Project Orion isn’t just a sequel—it’s redemption’s second act. So CDPR, I’m begging you: Let us fight for light in the dark. Let our choices blaze. Because if Orion copies 2077’s ending philosophy? Well... guess I’ll just rewatch those despair credits until my optic nerves fry. 🔥