The Latino Body in Sci-Fi: A Deep Dive into Cyberpunk Edgerunners

The Underrepresentation of Latinx Bodies in Sci-Fi

For decades, science fiction has imagined the future as a place where brown bodies either don’t exist or only survive as villains, aliens, or disposable labor. The genre loves to predict tomorrow, but it often does so by erasing Latinx/o/a people from it entirely. When we do appear, we’re trapped in a racialized past, tied to violence, intuition, and survival rather than progress.

Sci-fi futures may look global, but their hierarchies remain stubbornly familiar. They privilege wealth, whiteness, and corporate power. Latinx bodies exist at the margins of these worlds—present, but rarely protected.

That’s what makes Cyberpunk: Edgerunners hit so hard. In the neon-lit ruins of Night City, David Martinez isn’t just another tragic anime protagonist; he’s a brown body fighting for space in a future that was never designed for him. His story doesn’t offer liberation or escape; instead, it exposes the cost of existing in a system where survival itself requires self-destruction.

David Martinez isn’t just another tragic anime protagonist; he’s a brown body fighting for space in a future that was never designed for him.

Night City: A Reflection of Inequality

David lives in Santo Domingo, one of Night City’s oldest, overcrowded, and economically divided districts. From the jump, survival is the point. The creator of Cyberpunk, Mike Pondsmith, did not create Santo Domingo as a mere backdrop; it’s a reflection of how inequality is organized in Night City. Overpoliced and underfunded, it mirrors real-world urban spaces shaped by racialized poverty and systemic neglect. Proximity to corporate wealth doesn’t translate into access; it sharpens the divide between who is protected and who is expendable.

David's mother, Gloria Martinez, a Puerto Rican medtech worker, scrapes together enough money to send him to Arasaka Academy, a corporate school where David is constantly reminded that he doesn’t belong. His clothes don’t fit the standard. His tech is outdated. His body is marked as lesser before he ever opens his mouth.

Gloria Martinez played by Gloria Garayua

David exists between two worlds: elite and poor, human and machine, survival and self-destruction. His body becomes the site where all those pressures collide. To live in Night City, you don’t just work harder; you upgrade. Augmentation is framed as choice, but it functions as coercion. In a city where the unmodified human body is no longer enough, upgrading becomes mandatory rather than optional.

Gloria Martinez embodies the quiet contradictions of techno-capitalist futures. As a medtech worker, she repairs bodies for a system that refuses to protect her own. She believes technology can secure a better life for her son, yet she remains excluded from the very care she helps provide.

This exploitation isn’t subtle. When David and his mother are caught in a violent highway crash, corporate emergency responders ignore them because they’re not paying a high subscription. Her death marks the moment David fully understands the rules of this world: technology doesn’t save everyone. It saves the wealthy.

David Before Cyborg Implants

Desperate and grieving, David installs the Sandevistan, an illegal military-grade implant that turns him into a blur of speed and violence. It’s powerful enough to make him dangerous and valuable in Arasaka Co.'s eyes. Soon, he’s pulled into the world of edgerunners—mercenaries who steal data and information from megacorporations. For the first time, David finds community. But the same system that excluded him now wants to consume him.

For David, cybernetic upgrades promise power, speed, and protection, but they also demand something in return: his mind. His increasing reliance on implants pushes him toward cyberpsychosis, a condition caused by excessive augmentation that strips people of empathy and identity. The message is brutal: in a capitalist future, brown bodies are optimized for labor, not survival.

The Road to Cyberpsychosis: A Costly Resistance

Edgerunners makes one thing painfully clear: resistance comes at a cost. David’s mentor, Maine, succumbs to cyberpsychosis, becoming a warning of what happens when the body is pushed too far. David watches this and keeps going anyway. Why? Because for people like him, stopping isn’t an option. Power is the only protection Night City recognizes.

By the time David storms Arasaka Tower in the final episodes, his body is barely his own. His last stand against Adam Smasher—a full corporate cyborg—feels inevitable. David never had the option of a soft ending. His death cements him as a Night City legend, remembered through a cocktail and a jacket in Cyberpunk 2077. But that legacy is bittersweet. David survives in memory because the future couldn’t let him survive in life.

David Enhanced

Still, his existence matters. David Martinez disrupts the idea that Latinx/o/a people don’t belong in science fiction’s future. He forces the genre to confront what it usually hides: that technological progress, under capitalism, is built on disposable bodies. His story isn’t just tragic; it’s political. David isn’t a warning about technology. He’s a mirror held up to a future that keeps asking brown bodies to sacrifice themselves just to be seen.

David Martinez doesn’t haunt the future because it failed him. He haunts it because it worked exactly as designed.

The Importance of Representation in Sci-Fi

David Martinez’s story is a crucial reminder of the importance of representation in science fiction. The genre has the power to shape perceptions and challenge societal norms. When Latinx bodies are included in these narratives, it opens up a dialogue about identity, belonging, and the future.

Representation matters because it allows marginalized voices to be heard. It creates space for stories that reflect the complexities of our world. In a genre that often overlooks these narratives, Cyberpunk: Edgerunners stands out as a beacon of hope and a call to action.

As we look to the future, it’s essential to imagine worlds where all bodies are valued. Until science fiction learns how to envision futures where Latinx bodies are allowed care, rest, and survival, those futures will remain haunted by the people they leave behind.

David Martinez doesn’t haunt the future because it failed him. He haunts it because it worked exactly as designed. And until we confront these truths, the cycle of erasure will continue.

In conclusion, Cyberpunk: Edgerunners not only entertains but also challenges us to rethink the narratives we accept. It pushes us to demand more from the stories we tell about the future. The inclusion of Latinx bodies in science fiction is not just a trend; it’s a necessity.

Let’s ensure that the future we create is one where everyone can thrive.