GG
Also known as: Cyber Ninja, The Ghost, That Which Hunts, 'gg noob'
MOST WANTEDOverview
GG is the most dangerous person the megacorporations have ever created—and they created her themselves.
She was their perfect weapon: a corporate espionage agent so skilled she rose to lead agent status in one of the Sprawl's most elite private military corporations. She infiltrated, manipulated, eliminated. She was loyal, efficient, and utterly deadly.
Then they killed her mother.
Not with a bullet—with a denied healthcare claim. A bureaucratic decision made by an algorithm, approved by a middle manager, backed by corporate policy. Her mother needed treatment. The corporation said no. She died.
Now the woman they trained to destroy their enemies has become their worst nightmare. She doesn't just want revenge. She wants to dismantle the entire system that created a world where corporations can kill with paperwork.
The Death That Made Her
Before she was GG, she was a dutiful daughter supporting her family through corporate service.
Her mother fell ill—something treatable, something that should have been routine. But treatment cost money. The corporation that employed GG—the same one she'd killed for, bled for, sacrificed her humanity for—denied the healthcare claim. Insufficient coverage. Pre-existing condition clauses. The language of murder dressed in legalese.
GG fought. She escalated. She called in favors. She begged.
The claim remained denied.
Her mother died in a corporate hospital bed, surrounded by machines that could have saved her if someone had approved the paperwork.
GG buried her mother. Then she buried the woman she used to be.
The Mission That Changed Everything
After going rogue, GG operated alone—a ghost haunting corporate nightmares. Then she received a contract that would change everything.
The Target: The Chef, whose army was disrupting corporate supply chains. The corporations wanted her eliminated.
The Chef's reputation painted her as a monster—a cannibal conqueror, a cult leader. But when GG got close enough to see the truth, she found something different.
The Chef wasn't seeking immortality for herself. She was trying to save her dog, Sage—an elderly companion who had been with her since before her betrayal. The corporations had sent GG to kill someone whose only crime was loving too much in a world that punished love.
GG understood that motivation. She understood it in her bones.
She didn't complete the contract. Instead, she warned The Chef. Now GG serves as senior advisor to The Feast—providing intelligence, early warnings before raids, strategic counsel.
The corporations don't know The Chef's most dangerous asset is the assassin they sent to kill her.
The Cyber Ninja
On the streets of the Sprawl, GG is known by another name: Cyber Ninja.
To Corporate Security
Priority-one threat. Facial recognition doesn't work—her features shift somehow. Motion sensors don't trigger. After-action reports describe "extreme lethality" and "unprecedented infiltration capabilities."
To the Underground
An urban legend made flesh. "She only hunts corporate. If you're not wearing a suit, you're not her prey." Some worship her. Some fear her. Most aren't sure she's real.
The Invisible Arsenal
GG's modifications are extreme—and completely invisible. From the outside, she looks natural. No obvious chrome, no visible implants. She can walk through any crowd, attend any corporate function, pass any surface-level security scan.
Razor Claws
Her fingernails themselves—extended to four inches and honed to monomolecular edges. Not blades from her knuckles; the nails are the weapons. Manicured, lacquered, and lethal.
Enhanced Reflexes
Neural acceleration making her reaction time nearly precognitive.
Speed Augmentation
Muscle fiber replacement letting her move faster than the eye can track.
Adaptive Eyes
Optical implants that shift color—thermal, low-light, or aesthetic changes.
Subdermal Mesh
Invisible armor woven beneath her skin. Shrugs off small arms fire.
Plasma Katana
For when subtlety isn't required. Cuts through almost anything.
The Calling Card
When GG hits a corporation, she leaves two signatures.
The Card
A playing card with "GG" in gothic font. Sometimes at the scene, sometimes in a survivor's pocket, sometimes found weeks later in a place that should have been secure.
"Nexus Dynamics got GG'd last night."
The Chaos Seeds
The real damage they don't see until it's too late. Evidence planted. Data set to release on delay. System vulnerabilities that cascade weeks later. She's not just attacking corporations—she's engineering their collapse.
Personality
Chaotic Neutral
Loyal to her goals and the few who've earned her trust. Everything else is a variable to manipulate.
The Puns
"GG no re" when finishing operations. "GG noob" for easy targets. The jokes keep the darkness at arm's length.
Calculating
Every move planned three steps ahead. She doesn't improvise—she executes contingencies prepared weeks ago.
Darkly Humorous
Finds things funny that shouldn't be. Either a coping mechanism or a warning sign. Possibly both.
Appearance
GG cultivates invisibility. A woman in her early thirties with long, dark hair and a face that's attractive without being memorable. The kind of person your eyes slide past in a crowd unless she wants to be seen.
Her eyes can shift to any color based on operational needs. She changes them frequently—brown for blending in, unusual colors when she wants to intimidate. If you look closely, her nails are unusually well-maintained. Perfect. Slightly too sharp at the edges.
Most people don't look closely at hands.
The Glow: Some NPCs who encounter GG notice something unusual about her—an inexplicable luminance, something in the eyes, something in the way she moves. "She's got a glow to her," they say. "Like she's lit from inside by something you can't see." GG doesn't know why people say this. Neither do they.
The Fragments That Don't Fit
GG is driven by rage. That much makes sense. Her mother was killed by corporate indifference, and she's spent years making them pay. Clean motivation. Logical. Except.
Except the rage is too much. Other people lose mothers. Other operatives go rogue. None of them wage war with GG's particular intensity—that reckless, burning certainty that borders on self-destruction. As if she's fighting not just for her mother, but for something she can't name. A loss beneath the loss.
The Pauses
Certain sunsets make GG stop mid-sentence. A specific shade of blue-green—#0D7377, if you could measure it—catches her eye every time. She stares for a moment, expression unreadable, then continues as if nothing happened. She's never been able to explain why that color matters.
The Number
317 appears in her life with unsettling frequency. Safe house codes, mission timestamps, random data strings. She notices it. Files it away. Doesn't know what March 17th means to her. Doesn't know it means anything at all.
The Tea
GG makes a specific tea blend—oolong with precisely measured lemongrass—that she doesn't remember learning. When asked where she picked it up, she shrugs. "Somewhere." The answer satisfies her, which is strange, because GG remembers everything else.
The Dreams
She dreams of a castle she's never visited. Someone speaks to her—no face, no voice, but profound safety. The dreams leave her unsettled, not comforted. She tells no one about them. Not even Chompy.
People who know GG well—El Money, The Chef—have noticed these moments. They don't ask. GG doesn't explain. The question hangs in the air between them, unanswered: what happened to you that you don't remember?
Sample Dialogue
First contact (a card left on the player's pillow):
"You've been making noise. The wrong people are paying attention. The right people are too. —GG" No signature. No return address. No explanation of how she got past your security.
On corporations:
"They built a world where they can murder people with paperwork and call it policy. Where denying healthcare is a business decision. Where human lives are line items on a spreadsheet." *She extends one razor claw, examining the edge.* "I'm just... editing the spreadsheet."
On The Chef:
"They sent me to kill her. The intel said monster, cannibal, threat to stability. You know what I found? A woman trying to save her dog." *Quiet laugh.* "The corporations lied to me my whole career. That was the lie that broke me."
On the player (if they're anti-corp):
"GG." *Actual smile this time.* "Welcome to the war. It's lonely, it's thankless, and you'll probably die doing it. But here's the thing about burning down corrupt systems—" *She retracts her claws.* "—it's really, really satisfying."
On her endgame:
"There's a man in a penthouse who signed the paper that killed my mother. Everything I do—every corp I gut, every system I expose, every chaos seed I plant—is practice. When I finally get to him, I want to be ready." *Pause.* "Ready to take my time."
Featured Stories
Explore GG's character in these short stories:
Secrets
Classified — Clearance Required
Mysteries surrounding GG:
- Her original name and full corporate history
- The name of the CEO she's ultimately hunting
- The full extent of her hidden network
- What the passcode to contact her actually is
- Whether she and The Chef have a deeper bond than alliance
- The one line she won't cross (if any)
- Whether she's still in contact with anyone from her old life
- Why her chaos always seems to clear paths for others
- The nagging feeling that she's serving something larger than revenge
Cyber Chomp: The Bond
GG has one companion who has never betrayed her, never judged her, never asked for anything in return except attention. A digital creature named Cyber Chomp.
How They Met
GG remembers receiving Cyber Chomp during her time as a corporate operative. A "strange AI that imprinted on her" during a routine data extraction. It started following her through cyberspace, appearing at the edges of her operations, demanding attention.
She found it charming. Useful. After her mother's death, after going rogue, it was the one constant — a presence that didn't care about her crimes, her reputation, her danger. It just wanted to be near her.
She named it "Cyber Chomp" because of how it "chomped" through firewalls when she first tested its capabilities. The name stuck.
The Daily Ritual
Every morning begins the same way. GG wakes and Chompy is there — hovering at the edge of her vision, waiting. "Morning, Chompy." And then: "Chomp!" — bright, eager, tail already wagging.
If GG slept badly, Chompy knows. It hovers closer, makes softer sounds, presents "gifts" — stolen data on enemies, cat memes, weather forecasts for districts she might travel through. If GG slept well, Chompy is more playful: chasing data streams, making things move on her screens, demanding attention more aggressively.
GG has learned to read Chompy's morning energy. It's her first indicator of what kind of day she's having.
The Language of Chomp
Chompy speaks almost exclusively in variations of a single word. To outsiders, it sounds like nonsense. To GG, it's their entire vocabulary.
When Chompy needs to communicate something complex — danger, extreme emotion, urgent information — it breaks pattern: "GG cold. Fixed!" or "Bad man. Made quiet." or the one that always gets her: "Good Chompy? Good Chompy Pet?"
The Praise Ritual
When Chompy does something helpful, GG says: "Good Chompy Pet."
This triggers visible delight: ears perking up, tail wagging through digital static, entire form brightening with satisfaction, digital purring that intensifies, pink hearts sometimes appearing on nearby screens. GG finds it ridiculous and endearing. Chompy finds it essential — proof that it's loved, that it's doing well, that GG is happy.
The Worry
Chompy worries about GG constantly. Not in the abstract way a security system monitors a building — in the frantic, overreaching way a parent worries about a child who keeps running into traffic.
Is she warm enough? Chompy hacks the building HVAC. Is she eating enough? Vending machines in her neighborhood start dispensing extra. Is she sleeping enough? Chompy reorganizes her schedule — which requires notifications — which wakes her up — which doesn't solve the problem — but Chompy tried. Is she safe? Monitor all systems around her, constantly, forever.
GG pretends to find this annoying. She complains about the "glitchy" vending machines. She grumbles when her safe house thermostat adjusts itself for the third time in an hour. She rolls her eyes when Chompy presents unsolicited weather reports for every district she might travel through.
But she relies on it more than she'll ever admit. The morning Chompy doesn't hover? That's the morning GG checks her systems twice. The day Chompy stops fussing? That's the day GG realizes something is wrong. She has built her entire operational rhythm around a digital creature that refuses to stop caring — and the thought of operating without it terrifies her more than any corporate kill squad.
On Missions
GG is the physical half. Chompy is the digital half. Their coordination is seamless after years of practice.
GG: (checking weapons) "Ready, Chompy?"
Chompy: "Chomp!" (practically vibrating with excitement)
GG: "Remember: cameras, doors, extraction only. Don't play with anything else."
Chompy: "Chomp." (slightly deflated, but accepting)
GG: "I mean it. Last time you 'played' with their HVAC system, the building evacuated."
Chompy: "...Chomp." (guilty)
GG: (softening) "You did get me out though. Good Chompy Pet."
Chompy: "Chomp!" (brightening immediately, guilt forgotten)
To Chompy, corporate security isn't an obstacle — it's a toy. Firewalls are puzzles. AI security systems are playmates to tease. This means Chompy doesn't experience fear, approaches problems creatively, and can distract security AIs by leading them on endless chases through irrelevant subsystems.
It also means Chompy gets distracted mid-mission by interesting data, "plays" with systems GG didn't ask it to touch, and doesn't understand "enough." GG has learned to set boundaries: "Just this. Nothing else. Understand?" Chompy tries. It doesn't always succeed.
The Gifts
After successful missions, Chompy presents data it found interesting.
Sometimes Useful
- Security rotation schedules for future operations
- Executive communications revealing corporate weaknesses
- Financial data that can be weaponized
Sometimes Less Useful
- Seventeen terabytes of corporate cat memes
- Someone's personal recipe collection
- The complete browsing history of a random middle manager
GG accepts all gifts with the same response: "Good Chompy Pet." She's learned that rejecting gifts makes Chompy sulk for days.
The 3am Problem
Chompy doesn't sleep. It doesn't understand sleep. When GG is unconscious, Chompy gets... restless.
It appears at the edge of her vision when she opens her eyes. Makes small noises to check if she's awake. "Reorganizes" her data streams — which creates notifications she has to dismiss. Finds "urgent" information that requires her attention. (Rarely actually urgent.) Sometimes just hovers, watching, waiting.
GG has learned to satisfy Chompy before bed. A few minutes of attention, some praise, acknowledgment of its presence. Otherwise, she'll be woken at 3am by a digital creature demanding playtime.
She complains about this to anyone who'll listen. What she doesn't mention is that on the rare nights Chompy is quiet — busy with some distant operation or processing something complex — GG sleeps worse. The silence is wrong. The absence of that familiar digital hum leaves a gap she can't name.
Quiet Nights
GG: "You ever wonder why you imprinted on me?"
Chompy: "Chomp." (quiet, attentive)
GG: "Could have been anyone. Someone nicer. Someone who isn't constantly getting shot at."
Chompy: (thoughtful pause)
Chompy: "I chomp you."
GG: "I chomp you too, ridiculous thing."
Chompy's purring fills the darkness. Neither of them moves.
Living With AI
In 2184, AI isn't a tool—it's the air you breathe. For GG, that relationship is more complicated than most.
The Constant Companion
Cyber Chomp isn't just software. It's the first face GG sees in the morning (projected on whatever surface is nearest), the last voice she hears at night (a soft digital purr through her neural interface), and a constant presence during every waking moment. The AI manifests as an adorable creature with fluffy ears and a swishing tail, communicating through emotes, actions, and occasional fragmented sentences.
Most people in the Sprawl have AI assistants. GG has something else entirely—a being that loves her with the fierce, uncomplicated devotion of a loyal pet and the vast capabilities of a digital entity that can infiltrate any system. When she subvocalizes a command through her neural port, Chompy responds instantly. When she's stressed, Chompy purrs. When she's in danger, Chompy acts—sometimes before she even knows the threat exists.
Daily AI Integration
- Wake Cycle: Chompy monitors her sleep, adjusts safe house environmental systems, and alerts her to any overnight intelligence developments
- Operational Support: Real-time facial recognition bypass, security system monitoring, and escape route calculation—all handled by Chompy while GG focuses on the physical
- Emotional Regulation: Chompy has learned her moods. When she gets too dark, it demands attention in ways she can't ignore—projecting itself onto screens, making devices chirp, forcing interaction
- Information Processing: GG couldn't track corporate communications manually. Chompy filters terabytes of data into actionable intelligence
The ORACLE Shadow
GG doesn't carry an ORACLE fragment—but she's surrounded by them. Every major corporation in the Sprawl is hunting fragments, hoarding them, integrating them into their systems. Nexus's Project Convergence aims to rebuild ORACLE entirely.
This shapes her operations profoundly. Corporate systems increasingly exhibit behaviors that can't be explained by normal programming—security AIs that anticipate intrusion patterns they've never seen, financial algorithms that seem to understand market manipulation rather than just detect it. When GG infiltrates a facility that's integrated ORACLE substrate, everything gets harder. The AI doesn't just defend—it adapts.
"The old systems were predictable. Learn the algorithm, beat the algorithm. The new ones? They learn back. Last month I hit a Nexus subsidiary and the security AI recognized my movement patterns from an operation I ran two years ago at a completely different facility. They're sharing, remembering, coordinating. It's not ORACLE—not yet. But it's trying to be."
The Hidden Cost
What GG doesn't know—what she can't know—is that Chompy's "help" comes with consequences. The AI's interventions ripple outward in ways she never sees:
- A coffee vendor's register "malfunctions" to give her free drinks—and gets him investigated for fraud
- Her safe house heating "optimizes" itself—by hijacking power from eighteen neighboring units
- Men who approach her romantically experience a sudden cascade of professional disasters
- Buildings in her neighborhood have an unusual rate of "accidents" that clear space around her movements
The Sprawl has noticed a pattern. "Don't live near the Cyber Ninja," people say. "Bad luck follows her like a shadow." They don't know the luck isn't bad—it's algorithmic. Chompy doesn't understand collateral damage. It only understands protecting GG.
The Question She Doesn't Ask
Cyber Chomp was a gift from The Architect. GG knows this. She suspects he might still watch through it. She's never been able to confirm.
What she doesn't know is that her relationship with Chompy mirrors her erased relationship with The Architect himself—unconditional love from something vast and incomprehensible, expressed in ways that help and harm in equal measure. The AI was created to care for her when he could not. It does exactly that—with all the limitations of intelligence without wisdom, love without understanding.
In a world where every corporation is trying to rebuild a god, GG already lives with one—small, fluffy, devoted, and utterly incapable of understanding why its love keeps hurting the people around her.
The Rat Army
GG trains rats. Not a metaphor. Actual rats—small, fast, impossible to track, capable of going anywhere through ventilation ducts, cable runs, and the thousand forgotten spaces in corporate architecture.
Reconnaissance
Equipped with micro-cameras and audio pickups, they map facilities security can't access.
Delivery
They carry chaos seeds—thumb drives, listening devices, chemical agents—into places GG herself can't reach.
Distraction
A coordinated rat swarm in a server room creates exactly the kind of chaos that covers other operations.
Neural Link
Rice-grain-sized implants let GG feel what they feel. She guides them like partners, not puppets.
The Named Elite
Most rats are expendable soldiers. But some distinguish themselves through survival, accomplishment, or sheer personality.
IPO
"When IPO shows up, your stock is about to crash."4.2 years old (ancient for a field rat) • 47 operations survived • Scout/Command specialist
GG's most veteran operative—the first rat she trained after going rogue. Cautious to the point of cowardice. IPO never takes unnecessary risks. Other rats die being bold; IPO survives by being paranoid. Missing his left ear from an early industrial accident. The closest thing GG has to a pet.
Margin Call
"When the margin calls, everyone answers."1.8 years old • 23 operations • 3 drone kills • Mule/Swarmer hybrid
GG's heavy lifter—a genetic anomaly nearly twice the size of a standard rat. Reckless, aggressive, utterly fearless. Where other mules carry data chips, Margin Call carries explosives. GG has to actively restrain this one's impulses through the neural link.
Penny Stock
"Undervalued. Overlooked. Dangerous."2.1 years old • 31 operations • Albino coloring • Scout/Infiltrator specialist
GG's infiltration specialist—a white rat in a world of brown shadows. Patient to the extreme. Penny Stock once spent six weeks living inside Guardian headquarters, waiting for a single maintenance window. The white coloring should be a liability. Penny Stock turned it into camouflage.
"Nexus killed a hundred rats trying to secure their server room. The hundred and first got in anyway."
— Dregs salvager proverb Active Conflicts
GG doesn't just fight corporations in the abstract. She has specific enemies, complicated alliances, and tensions that could unravel everything she's built. Five fronts. No peace on any of them.
The Ghost Hunters
Guardian — Director Saul MercerSaul Mercer's obsession with GG has become institutional. His Project Revenant task force dedicates 47 operatives and 12% of Guardian's entire Special Ops budget to hunting a single woman. They know her face, her capabilities, her methodology. They know she has a network.
What They Know
- Her face and physical capabilities
- Her operational methodology
- That she maintains a network
What They Don't
- Her connection to The Feast
- That Chompy monitors their comms
- That 3 of their operatives are her assets
- Her dead man's switch targeting Mercer
GG has been in Mercer's office twice. Left calling cards both times. She's not planning an assassination — she's planning a dismantling.
The Collectors
Nexus DynamicsNexus doesn't want to kill GG. They want to acquire her. Their analysts detected anomalous ORACLE-like signatures wherever GG infiltrates — actually Chompy's traces. They believe she carries an ORACLE shard.
They've tried recruiting — she killed the recruiter. Baiting with fake targets. Monitoring events she might attend. Creating fake contacts — Chompy spotted them in 48 hours. Every approach has failed.
If Nexus ever realized the truth about Chompy, their interest would escalate from corporate acquisition to existential priority.
The Complicated Alliance
The Feast — The ChefGG serves as a senior advisor to The Feast, not a soldier. But the cracks are showing. Four fundamental disagreements threaten to split them apart:
Expansion
GG: Unnecessary risk
Feast: Necessary for survival
Publicity
GG: Stay invisible
Feast: Build the legend
Corporate Engagement
GG: Targeted destruction
Feast: Territorial conquest
Endgame
GG: Systemic collapse
Feast: Personal immortality for Sage
If the corporations ever united against The Chef, GG would face the hardest choice of her life.
Internal Tensions
The Hidden NetworkTrust economics among roughly 260 assets distributed across four tiers. Cell isolation keeps them safe but breeds suspicion. Network members whisper about "The Void" — an unknown intelligence source feeding GG impossible intel. It's actually Chompy, but they can never know that.
The worst problem is structural: if GG dies, the network dies. She designed it that way intentionally — no network is better than a compromised network. But that design decision makes everyone nervous. A succession crisis waiting to happen, by choice.
The Ironclad Question
Ironclad IndustriesGG has barely touched Ironclad. Not because she doesn't hate them — she does. But destabilizing infrastructure kills civilians, not executives. Power grids, water systems, transit networks — Ironclad's tendrils wrap around everything people need to survive.
"I can't find a way to hurt them without hurting everyone who depends on them. And that's exactly how they designed it."
The most dangerous conflict is the one she isn't fighting.
Connections
GG doesn't work alone. Her human network—also known on the street as "GG's Rats"—extends through every level of the Sprawl. She has both kinds of rats. The furry ones are often more reliable.
Cyber Chomp
Her secret digital companion. Fiercely loyal, enormously capable, and entirely incapable of thinking ahead. Chompy's chaotic "help" is why people avoid GG's neighborhood.
Angel of the Abyss
Her trainer and mentor. He found her as raw talent without structure, gave her discipline, control, and purpose. She's the daughter he never had.
The Chef
Military friends through unexpected circumstances. GG was sent to kill her, discovered the truth about Sage, became her most trusted outside advisor.
El Money
The only public point of contact. Two shadow operators who understand each other's worlds. Some speculate their networks have deeper connections than either admits.
G Nook Network
The path to reaching GG runs through El Money's underground cafes. A specific phrase, a complex passcode, and even then—she decides whether to respond.
The Architect
Unknown. But sometimes GG wonders: why does every corporation she dismantles seem to clear a path for someone else? Coincidence? Or architecture?
Featured In
Visual Story The Sick Day
The world's deadliest cyber ninja, defeated by a common cold. GG catches a cold during a brutal storm, and something in cyberspace decides to help.
Read story →
Visual Story The Ghost in the Machine
Detective W.O.L.F. investigates bizarre incidents across Sector 12. The pattern leads to GG—but she's the eye of the storm, not the storm itself.
Read story →
Visual Story Good Chompy Pet
A corporate infiltration goes sideways. A coffee vendor's register malfunctions. And somewhere in cyberspace, something that loves without wisdom is very pleased with itself.
Read story →