Handpunk Is Here to Break the System, One Cyber-Fist at a Time
July 1, 2040 — Everywhere the System Fears
They tried to take our hands. We gave them metal ones.
What began as a pissed-off middle finger to the biotech overlords has mutated into a full-scale cultural uprising. It’s called Handpunk, and it’s tearing through the underbelly of every megacity like a hacked freight train.
First, they chipped our palms. Said it was “for workplace efficiency.” Said it would “unlock our potential.” What it really did? Shackled us to corporate time clocks and turned flesh into product. But rebels didn’t beg—they built. They ripped out the chips and bolted on chrome knuckles, steam pistons, and plasma-forged claws.
Now the streets of Neo-Brooklyn, Post-Paris, and the Lagos Free Sectors are pulsing with oil and noise. Hands buzz, hiss, and click in protest. Cyber-fists rise in sync to bass drops from The Crank Lords, Digital Callus, and Wrist Wreckage. Abandoned tunnels have become rage-filled nightclubs; rooftops, canvas for signal-jamming graffiti drones.
Every fingertip’s a weapon. Every palm’s a statement. This isn’t cosplay—it’s combat.
The suits at Gravotek and KronoCore are scrambling, of course. “Bio-terrorism,” they call it. “Unregulated human augmentation.” Feck off. The real terror is what they did to us first.
In the words of infamous modder RustBaby69, streaming live from an undisclosed scrap bunker:
“You touch our hands, we rebuild them. Stronger. Louder. Free.”
Handpunk isn’t a trend. It’s a gauntlet slammed down on the slick boardroom table of a dying empire.
