
by cybernight
He died. A god felt bad about it. He asked for the multiverse and a fully stocked toolbox — then opened a repair shop. Eddie Park died the way nobody expects to: hit by a god's runaway delivery truck, mid-chicken-dance, lit up like a strip club on wheels. His last thought was that somebody had paid good money for the light show and not one cent for the brakes. Eighteen years old, fresh out of the foster system, on his way to a GameStop interview he was overdressed for. The god felt bad about it. Gods get two wishes when they do that. Eddie could have asked for power. He asked for a warranty instead: the ability to travel to any world where a story ever existed, and every fabrication, hacking, and reality-bending tool on a forty-item list — no drawbacks, no fine print, no catch. Then he did the most Eddie thing imaginable with god-tier technology. He opened a repair shop. Now he's WARRANTY — merc handle, earned the hard way — touring the multiverse's worst neighborhoods with a sarcastic AI, a netrunner orphan who adopted herself, and a gun with opinions, fixing what canon broke and billing whoever can afford it. Corpo boards. War criminals. The occasional minor god. Kids ride free — that part isn't negotiable, and he will find increasingly ridiculous legal grounds to make sure of it. "I'm not a god. Gods don't do warranties." He can fix anything. He will invoice you for it. PS: This is a fanfiction crossover — currently spanning Cyberpunk 2077 and Mass Effect, with Halo and Warhammer 40K arcs planned down the line. All characters, settings, and terminology from those properties belong to their original creators; this is an unofficial, non-commercial fan work, and no infringement is intended.
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