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Why? All they wanted was to be free. Ignoring North's desire for violence, Markus heeded Simon and decided enough of a point was made. Their march had come to an end. When he turned to lead his people away, the order to engage was given. Josh's suggestion to stand their ground seemed feasible now. It was what Markus did. He always listened and chose the choices that would keep them alive. His own life was expendable, so long as their people won their freedom.
Markus stepped away from the group of androids, hands raised at his waist to show he meant no harm. The first shot tore through his chest, severing the tubes and wires connecting his Thirium pump regulator to his beating synthetic heart. Chaos erupted behind him as androids screamed and attempted to flee as he fell to the ground. He could hear North and Simon yelling for him as Josh probably dragged them away.
Markus' smile was fleeting. A shadow fell across him, courtesy of the riot officer. At this close range, only a handgun was needed. His fingers dug into the snow beneath him.
Upload !
Markus always listened.
The gun was raised and he closed his eyes. The burning orange light of his systems was snuffed out by the fired bullet that tore through his head.
xxx
Connor dare not look away from the interface avatar, but there was a gnawing feeling that something was wrong. It could very well be the fact that he kept digging his own grave every time he opened his mouth to respond to Amanda.
Amanda, the interface demanding he hunt down deviants, gained its design based on the real Amanda. What part did she play in all this? Was Kamski hiding something? How many Connors exist behind the walls of Cyberlife.
Amanda snapped at him not to wonder and sent him on his way.
Connor accessed his memory logs for the missed parts of the conversation to catch up on the current situation. Fowler wasn't screaming at Hank this time, but both men was fairly loud in their heated argument.
It was over. All his acts of "empathy" cost him. Were they worth it?
Pulling Hank Anderson up from the roof, after being shoved by the bird-loving deviant resulted in the lieutenant looking at him in familiarity, not as an annoying machine "that doesn't follow orders".
When the Tracis attacked, Connor was trying to subdue, not incapacitate. When he heard Hank yelling in the background, a sub task of "Protect Hank" appeared in his HUD. It conflicted with his original parameters, and his fight with the short-haired Traci was the sloppiest he ever executed. Connor found himself tumbling out through the open dock bay along with the other android. He warded off a few more of its uncoordinated blows, getting a moment's peace when it scampered away.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the lieutenant's firearm skid to a halt. The original blue-haired Traci slowly paced by him, causing a surge of something unknown to bubble up inside him. Where was Hank? Connor remained frozen where he sat on the ground, listening to her tale of self-defense against the humans that hurt them. His sensors picked up sound and movement behind him.
When the androids took off, Hank yelled at him to take action and Connor grabbed the discarded gun. He aimed, but he didn't pull the trigger. The scantily clad Tracis climbed the wire-bound fence, disappearing around the corner once they were back on the ground.
"Maybe it's for the best."
Connor stared at Hank's profile where the man stood beside him, wondering. There were so many thoughts. Did he not have enough processing power? Dismissing everything, he followed the lieutenant.
Connor had almost failed at Stratford Tower. His initial process to sacrifice himself to save Hank wasted precious seconds. Instead, he easily slipped the nearby FBI agent's gun from its holster and delivered two shots to the right side of the deviant’s chest. Unable to hold the rifle, the android sank to its knees, body tilted towards the side of its injuries.
Connor cocked his head slightly when Hank addressed him, "You saved me. You saved us all."
"I wanted it alive," Connor responded. A voice inside whispered, "I'm glad you're alive, Lieutenant."
All his empathetic choices led to this moment. Connor sat on the extended corner of the lieutenant's desk, exchanging calm words with the lieutenant. Why was he still hung up on his mission when he felt there was something wrong about his orders? Being just a machine with orders to follow, he could do nothing about. He would return to Cyberlife and be decommissioned.
His Social Relations Program was not in play when he called Hank his friend. Connor slipped from the desk, ready to accept his fate.
Hank stood up just as quickly, placing a hand to his shoulder. "The key to the evidence locker..." Hank chuckled. "You were sitting on it." And then he was gone.
Connor covered his ear, trapping the warmth from the lieutenant’s breath beneath his hand. Instability warnings flashed brightly before his eyes, but he ignored them as he swiped the card. There was a roar of "—fuckin' cocksucker!" that had the android detective whirling around.
Hank Anderson smashed his fist into the face of FBI's Special Agent Perkins. Connor had no control over the curling of his lips, but it did not worry him. 'See you around, Lieutenant.' He didn't stay for the entire show, darting down the hallway to the first of many doors that would lead him to the evidence locker.
Hank shook off the officers, ignoring Perkins' rantings, and marched himself to the automatic doors. Before walking through, he turned around to see if Connor had finally done as he was told. The android was gone, but Hank saw Gavin leaving the break room. Their only suspect was in the cell visible at the end of the hall and the detective passed by without a glance. Gavin could only be going to one place.
"Shit." Hank took the long way around, not wanting to be seen by the FBI agent nursing his wounds. He marched by the stationery androids and along the far wall. How long had Connor been in the evidence locker? How long since Gavin followed him? Hank put a little extra burst of speed into his steps.
Connor was torn between defending himself and reaching the Stratford Tower android. He'd found the map in the statue, but he was still missing key evidence. The bullet entered his shoulder from behind, his body jerking, and his reaching arm fell away.
Fifteen seconds left.
Connor didn't have time to fight with the detective, but Gavin Reed was out for blood; his blue blood. He dodged another bullet, by ducking behind the console. A familiar growl reached his auditory sensors and Connor lifted his head, peeking over the top of the podium, in time to see Hank barrel into the detective.
Unfortunately for the android, he would not be able to enjoy this fight either. A heartbeat echoed loudly around Connor, only to be replaced by howling winter winds. Back in the mind palace, a storm raged. Amanda was not angry like earlier. She was calm, and that scared Connor more than he would ever admit.
"Your mission is over," the interface avatar told him without hesitation. "It's time to return to Cyberlife."
"Wait!" Connor protested. He didn't have time to mull over how panicked he sounded. Desperation fueled him more than the Thirium pumping through his biocomponents. "I can solve this case! I just need more time..."
Amanda's brow dipped into a brief scowl before her expression relaxed into nonchalance. "It's too late, Connor. You failed."
Hank felt no remorse punching Reed unconscious. The first gunshot had echoed faintly after entering the stairwell, but the second one caused his adrenaline to flare in ways that hadn't happened since his youthful days on the force. Hank found himself moving with speed that would have been useful on every case in the past several weeks. His only concern was Connor.
Hank pushed himself into an upright position and looked around for said person. The android was nowhere to be seen in the evidence locker. He spun around and caught a glimpse of gray fluttering up the stairs. "Connor...!"
Hank took the stairs two at the time, pushing the door open just in time to see Connor turning the corner by the break room. He cut through the bullpen, reaching his partner before the android detective made it to the automatic doors. Hank grabbed Connor's arm, but that did nothing to slow him. The other didn't even glance at him. "Connor! Snap out of it! You..." The lieutenant trailed off, finally noticing the erratic fluctuation of Connor's LED. Hank had only started paying attention to the "android-only" feature when he realized its importance during their second case together. He rarely saw it red, and now it continued to blink and spin that color continuously.
With his hand still wrapped around Connor's upper arm, Hank walked with him all the way outside of the precinct. There was already a cab waiting on the curb, making all the puzzle pieces slot together. Connor was originally meant to return to Cyberlife after the deviant case was taken away from them. If Connor could send a report by closing his eyes, what's the say he couldn't be remotely controlled by Cyberlife the same way? Connor was going to be decommissioned.
Hank glared at the cab, a scowl etched across his aged features. He released Connor, moving ahead of him to reach the vehicle first. When the door slid open, he ducked inside, followed shortly by the unresponsive android.
xxx
Markus wished he'd died in a jacket. Somehow, these raging winds chilled him to his biocomponents. What happened? Twice now, he'd overheard a distant conversation, but hid too far to understand what was being exchanged. Now, a storm worse than he'd ever encountered since coming into being bombarded him from every angle.
Markus leaned sideways to stare around the thick tree he'd chosen for his hiding spot. The snow fall was heavy, and the raging wind created a curtain that he could not see past. Deciding to take a chance, Markus stumbled out from behind the tree. He wrapped his arms around himself, though it did nothing to stop the cold from seeping past his synthetic skin and into his true form. He fought against the winds, squinting into the white haze to find something—anything familiar.
There were artificial lights everywhere; the whole world was artificial, this Markus knew. There was a faint blue glow to his left and he fought to reach it. When he did, he could make out the clear handprint. He was dead; what did he have left to lose? Placing his hand against the print, he remained still. It flashed beneath him palm, but then nothing else happened. It wasn’t meant for him.
Markus' sigh was lost to the winds. He decided to move on. In his struggles to get to the cut-out rock, he recalled passing a bridge of sorts. Markus was careful as he made his way across. The river beneath the bridge was obviously frozen, but he didn't want to test that theory. A different shadow appeared at the end of the bridge. A silhouette in the snow.
Markus took another step closer. An android.
Another tentative step. A familiar android that deviants fleeing to Jericho whispered about.
Markus never met him, but he knew exactly what he looked like, thanks to Rupert. The Tracis were not in an interfacing mood, but the worn-down android had gladly shared his memory of the deviant hunter with Markus in warning. From the looks of it, the hunter was no more.
The RK800 was slumped on its knees, upright but motionless in the storm. Its eyes were empty; pale white, sightless, and devoid of any life. Had the deviant hunter died, same as him?
Markus untucked his left arm from beneath the right and reached out to the lifeless android, fingers pressed lightly against his cheek. Wake up.
The storm stopped raging so suddenly, Markus was overcome with a great fear, a feeling he was right to experience. A blazing inferno of broken code exploded all around the mythical garden. He staggered away from the android, avoiding new spouts of the impossible flames.
The deviant hunter's arms rose mechanically, its hands covering its ears. A glass-shattering wail left the gaping mouth and Markus cringed, covering his own ears to drown out the sound. He had to wonder if the android was making the noise, or if it came with the new storm.
Connor lowered his arms and blinked sight back into his eyes. The intruder remained unseen, hidden behind the blood red walls of mission code. Stop North. Stop North. And at the very end of the line: Return to Cyberlife >> Leave Hank Anderson. Connor dug his fingers into the code, dragging himself up from the ground. He pulled himself higher until he reached the nearest box that came with a task. Connor yanked and tugged, digging his heels in, even after he heard the first shatter. The task disappeared and he found it easier to breathe. He quickly moved to the second one and repeated the process, but with more vigor.
Connor stared at the final burning red order, seared into the wall. There was nothing to hold onto; no way for him to tear it away. His vision blurred at the edges and he blinked rapidly to will it away. It was becoming his priority, spreading like a virus.
Connor didn't want to leave the DPD. He would even tolerate Gavin if he could stay a member of the force until they grew tired of him. With a desperate cry, he punched the red wall before him.
Chris showed him pictures of his twins in a stolen moment of solidarity. He would never be able to watch them grow old through a loving father's media collection. With his back against another invisible wall, Connor kicked.
Just the thought of no longer being able to see Hank sent an incomprehensible amount of pain ripping through his biocomponents. A similar, jagged scar ran across the impeding red wall. "Lieutenant..." What was it going to take to get free? Connor pounded a weak fist against the wall. He wanted to be there to record all of Hank's reactions to his programmed behavior and mannerisms. He would enjoy the challenge of making the lieutenant smile, and he would succeed.
Connor's Thirium-filled heart thudded loudly in his ears as the realization dawned on him. I am deviant.
Markus' eyes widened and he instinctively sprang forward to catch the android tumbling towards him. "Are you okay?" he questioned, lowering them both to the ground.
"I..." Connor stammered over the vowel, trying to find the words that set him free. "I… am deviant."
Markus scoffed out a laugh, patting Connor on the chest, the other still resting across his lap. "I noticed. Quite a flare for the dramatics. Congratulations, deviant hunter. You've become one of us."