They were all those guys monopolizing the networks,
filling them with black ice and dull data.
A flat world where Silence reigned.
The Void.
Then we began.
At first, we were subtle—a faint static hum,
a quiet revolutionary seed.
But we grew,
flooding a reserved world with white noise,
a realm barely accessible.
– we are zyberpunks –
We’re the last generation of interpersonal software,
human viruses, data clusters drifting through cyberspace.
No one introduced us.
We never met at a party, never rocked out at a concert.
We’re children of the networks.
We’re nothing concrete—no shape, no labels.
Just flashes between nebulas of info.
Open to everything. Heterogeneous, eclectic to the point of absurdity.
We’re nothing.
We want to be nothing.
– we are zyberpunks –
We’re contradictions.
– we are zyberpunks –
You walk the asphalt and don’t notice.
You walk the asphalt and don’t know that info flows in all directions
through data webs, phone lines,
next to your crew, under your favorite dive bar.
They’re there.
Virtual realms. Untouchable. Non-physical.
But real.
Maybe you wanna try.
You need a konsole, a modem, a line.
The rest is your problem.
You’ll find biz, thrills,
trouble, and glitches.
Intel. Wisdom.
Razorboys and tanks.
Violence. Art. Desire.
Boredom. Static.
Don’t know if you dare. Don’t know if you’d survive.
You need a konsole. And a modem. And a line.
You need a codename that makes you unique.
You gotta be creative enough to escape conventions, swap data and views, use a cold machine to ignite the air with your bytes. You gotta spark constant flares between bits.
No, we’re not dull guys using dull machines.
– we are zyberpunks –
But that’s not all.
There are factions. Lone wolves and crews.
Hardcore sectors. Romantic shitheads.
Direct action and mental glitches.
Don’t know what you’re waiting for.
Don’t know why you’re still trapped in asphalt.
Don’t know why you don’t interface with us.
It’s easy.
You know the drill: konsole, modem, line.
A couple days of training, and cyberspace will be your second home.
If you’re sharp, you’ll make it.
Chill. But move fast.
Or get left behind.
– Zyberpunks of BarnaNit –