Adam Jensen stood on the balcony of his apartment, the gold-tinted sky of the city reflecting off his artificial sunglasses. He rolled his shoulder, feeling the faint, rhythmic click of mechanical servos. He was more machine than man now, a walking testament to Sarif Industries' cutting-edge technology. They called it progress. Adam just called it Tuesday.

"Adam, we have a lead on the hackers," David’s voice echoed directly in his mind. "They're trying to expose the research. You need to stop them before they cause a panic."

He stepped off the balcony, his heavy boots magnetized to the metal fire escape. He had a choice to make. He could follow orders, protect the corporation that gave him a second life, and keep the world running on its dark, profitable tracks. Or, he could leak the data himself, plunging the world into a chaotic revolution where humans were truly free, but entirely unregulated.

Adam's phone chimed with a direct neural feed. It was David Sarif, his boss and the man who rebuilt him after he was nearly killed in a terrorist attack.