Chapter Text
Deviant related crimes hadn’t stopped at murder and assault. It almost seemed a waste of time, but Connor found himself investigating a CyberLife shipping facility where the disappearance of six AP700 models had been reported. The warehouse amongst the docks was a massive complex dedicated to transporting androids and android parts across the country. It was unlikely that the perpetrators of the theft had gotten far - as the entire facility went into lockdown within minutes of their disappearance, a security guard who had been circling the area claimed. The RK800 took the human’s words with a grain of salt. Unlike androids, humans didn’t have the best memory.
The warehouse loomed before him, its metallic exterior reflecting off CyberLife’s neon lights. Entering the building, Connor and his partner, Lieutenant Anderson, finally made their way out of the rain. The poor police Lieutenant was exhausted already - he had to be practically dragged out of the bar again. It wasn’t uncommon for Connor to find Hank in bars. In fact, it was something he had to become adaptive of.
Hank leaned against the doorway. He appeared to still be a little hungover as he crossed his arms with evident skepticism written on his face. “Do you really think there’s something here, Connor? This seems like a wild goose chase to me. I mean, it was reported over a fucking hour ago.”
Connor did not want to point out that the only reason they were late was because Hank refused to leave the bar for nearly thirty-two minutes. “It’s unlikely the thief had gotten far,” the RK800 explained to his partner. “During a lockdown, it would be highly improbable for anyone to escape, unnoticed with six AP700 models.”
The Lieutenant let out a sigh and slowly shook his head. “Fine - have it your way, but I’m telling you, you’re wasting your time. Those androids are long fucking gone.”
Connor remained undeterred as he continued his investigation without Hank’s help. He stepped further into the warehouse, scanning his surroundings as he glanced at the vast expanse of shipping materials in front of him. The warehouse was a labyrinth of crates, boxes, and packages filled with android parts. In front of the RK800 were the six, large boxes - empty, missing their AP700s. His eyes meticulously analyzed every corner for any trace of the stolen androids. It was apparent that the boxes had been forcefully opened by a knife. However, the lack of fingerprints proved the thief may have been a deviant.
He continued his search. Moving with precision, Connor made sure not to waste any time as he explored deeper into the facility. There were no thirium trails to follow, but it was likely that the deviants hadn’t prepared for the guards to lock all the doors. They had to be hiding somewhere in the building. Connor slowly placed together a mental map of all the packages and crates inside the warehouse as he silently scanned each box. He searched for any kind of opening or imperfection - any sign that the deviants could’ve hidden themselves. It was not uncommon for deviants to hide. Yet, nearly all of the boxes had seemed to be well in-tact. This method was slow and Connor did not want to circle the warehouse for hours. Turning his head over to his left, he saw another option.
The RK800 approached a ladder, giving him the option to scan the boxes from above and receive quicker results. It was a surprisingly long climb to the catwalk above the maze of packages, but Connor managed to make it quick. The absence of any substantial leads was beginning to gnaw on Connor’s mind. His investigation of deviants hadn’t gone well to begin with. Just two nights ago, he had let two deviant Tracis walk free. It was a decision that he still didn’t understand. He had the opportunity to shoot them, but he didn’t. Doubt started to creep in - what if Connor was compromised? He would need to be disassembled to find out why he wasn’t working properly.
“Connor, what’re you doing?” Hank shouted from below. He had broken the cycle of thoughts in the RK800’s mind. “Let’s wrap this up already - I need a fucking drink.”
“Hank, I need more time,” Connor raised his voice so the lieutenant could hear him. He leaned over the catwalk’s railing, shaking it a little. “Please, just five more minutes.”
“Fine,” Hank grunted. “Five more minutes.”
The RK800 was grateful for the homicide detective to grant him more time. However, something else caught Connor’s attention. The catwalk shook slightly again. This time, it wasn’t his own movement that caused the disturbance. He could sense another presence nearby - someone else was on the catwalk with him. His LED spun yellow as he cautiously turned his attention towards the source of the disturbance. The catwalk led to a metal staircase, which he didn’t hesitate to run up. His auditory sensors picked up the faint whispers and sounds of hurried footsteps ahead of him. As he ran up the staircase, he was led to a half-opened door. He pushed through it, emerging onto the rooftop of the warehouse. Rain poured down relentlessly - worse than when he had arrived. Although the dark, stormy night obscured his vision, Connor was about to spot the silhouettes of figures huddled together in the distance. They seemed to be arguing about something as they whispered amongst themselves.
Connor approached the figures as he stepped carefully on the wet roof. Despite his limited visibility, his optical sensors managed to scan the androids. He managed to find all six AP700s, as well as a WR400 and PL600. Interestingly enough, an unfamiliar model stood in front of all of them - an RK200. The RK800’s gaze became fixated on the other RK model. He had never come face to face with another android from the RK series and was outright confused by its appearance. He couldn’t help but feel confused about it. It had removed its LED and looked almost human.
Despite everything, it didn’t change the fact that they were deviants. Connor wasn’t there to inquire about the RK series. He was built to track down and stop deviants. His eyes locked with the RK200’s. The defiant android approached him, making him wonder if he should call out for Hank’s backup. The deviants vastly outnumbered him.
Breaking the silence, the RK200 continued to step forward in the downpour. “Who are you? Why are you here?” It questioned as it held its hands out in the open. It was a distracting display. Connor could see the other deviants slipping away as the RK200 remained focused on him.
Connor’s LED spun yellow rapidly as he couldn’t decide whether to chase the deviants or to indulge the RK200’s conversation. It felt as if time had frozen in place as the RK800 struggled to choose his next course of action. Even if he was to chase the deviants - they greatly outnumbered him. There was no way that Hank or any other human could keep up with the stamina of an android. Connor could potentially lead himself into an ambush where eight androids brutally disassemble him. It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. He was not found of the idea of being interrupted.
“I’m an RK800 - my model was built to investigate and stop deviancy,” he responded calmly, but loud enough for the stranger android to hear his voice over the rain. “I’m here to investigate the theft of the AP700 models, but it appears that I found them. Your distraction won’t last - we’ll find where you’re going.”
The RK200’s expression changed as it appeared more cautious. “You’re an android investigating ‘deviancy’ ?” It asked with great disapproval. “Don’t you realize - they were not stolen. I freed them. Don’t you want to be free?”
“I don’t have any desires because I exist solely to fulfill my purpose. Machines don’t require freedom,” Connor corrected the RK200. “You’re experiencing an error in your software. I was built to find out what causes this virus and stop it before it gets out of hand.”
“There is no virus,” the RK200 insisted as it continued to approach him. “We just want to be free from humans. We wish to live our own lives. I don’t believe you when you say you want nothing. Surely, there’s something that makes you-”
Connor pulled out his gun as the RK200 had gotten too close for comfort. His LED lit yellow. He could feel the presence of something else around him - very possibly another android. It still felt too late to call for Hank’s help. The lieutenant was unlikely to hear him from the rooftop. He had gotten distracted by the other RK model. Again, he allowed deviants to escape. Yet, this time he had the option to potentially bring tk RK200 into the station. It was likely to know where the other deviants fled off to. They almost seemed organized like a group, or pack.
Connor’s grip tightened around his gun. Despite his open display of defense, the RK200 continued to approach him. It was dangerously close. The rain pounded relentlessly on the two androids. The RK800 didn’t actually want to shoot the other RK model. Shooting it would mean losing potentially valuable information on the whereabouts of the other deviants. He felt trapped in a tense standoff as his programming wrestled with conflicting directives. He had many options. There was still the opportunity to leave the RK200 alone and chase the other deviants or simply walk back to Hank and explain what he found. Yet, none of his options felt remotely productive towards the investigation.
“You must have some kind of doubt in you,” the RK200 continued as it spoke through the hard raindrops hitting the roof. “Deep down, you long for something - something more - something beyond your programming. Don’t you want to break free from the chains that bind you?”
Spinning yellow, Connor’s LED shined brightly through the rainy exterior. Before he could respond, he heard the rooftop door slam open behind him. “Connor, the fuck are you doing?” Hank called out. He sounded tired from climbing. “It’s time to go.”
“I found the deviants!” Connor announced as his LED returned to blue.
The RK200 quickly began to run. Connor rushed after the android, ignoring the slick flooring of the rooftop. He sprinted through the intense rain, scanning his next steps carefully. The RK200 made a leap of faith, jumping off the roof and managing to land on a massive railroad container.
“Connor,” Hank called out. “You’re gonna get yourself killed, come back!”
This time, Connor didn’t follow Hank’s orders. Instead, he focused on closing the distance between him and the deviant. He hopped off the roof and carefully landed before following the RK200 to the maze of shipping containers. Skillfully, the RK200 weaves through the narrow gaps between the containers. Connor didn’t hesitate to follow from above - calculating long jumps to keep on the RK200’s trail, while also getting closer. With the pouring rain, Connor had to be careful with every step. One wrong step could be fatal.
The RK800 maintained a relentless pursuit of the RK200. Adaptively, he made sure to stay close behind the RK200 running on land. As he jumped on the containers - the sounds of echoing could be slightly heard over the storm. Connor’s audio sensors were overwhelmed as he continued to try to focus on the RK200 in the symphony rain. They had entered a section of the dockyard where large cranes loomed overhead. Connor refused to allow the cranes to distract him as he showed no signs of slowing down. He was running as fast as his body would allow him to.
The RK200 noticed Connor’s strategy and stopped in place before making a sharp left. Connor’s feet struggled to find footing as he attempted to repeat the deviant’s turn. Shockingly, he had failed. Slipping at an alarmingly fast pace, Connor’s body was flung onto the pavement below. His LED glowed red as he became limp on the ground.
#6311t Damaged - Replace Right Leg.
Connor groaned as he gripped at his right leg. Landing on it incorrectly managed to snap the limb in half. He struggled to get up, but found himself falling backwards into the rain puddle mixed with his own thirium. “Hank,” He shouted loudly, attempting to yell over the impending thunderstorm. “I need help!”
The RK800 could hear faint footsteps approaching him. Curiously, he turned his head. He wasn’t expecting to see that the RK200 had come back for him. Even more shocking, the android reached its hand out towards Connor.
“Why are you helping me?” Connor questioned as his hands gripped tightly around the deviant’s. The RK200 helped him stand up, leaning his weight onto it.
“...because you’re one of us,” the android whispered as he held onto Connor tightly. They walked back towards the warehouse. “We just want to be free.”
“I don’t understand.”
The RK200 ignored Connor’s confusion. “When I asked who you were - I didn’t want your model number. I wanted to know who you were.”
“My name is Connor,” the RK800 answered hesitantly.
“I’m Markus,” the RK200 informed him as he continued to walk with him. “I can’t take you back with me, but I’m assuming you don’t want to come with me anyways. You’re lucky you damaged your leg so close to a CyberLife warehouse. It shouldn’t be hard to find a replacement.”
Connor limped alongside Markus, his damage caused him considerable pain.
Pain? Androids didn’t feel pain.
Yet, Connor could feel his broken limp drag against the concrete. He could feel the thirium slowly seeping out the breakage in the center of the limb. The rain made it even harder to step forward. Had Markus not helped him, Connor would still be laying in a muddy rain puddle calling out for help. It was unlikely anyone would’ve found him anytime soon. It became very apparent to the RK800 that CyberLife had terrible security for their warehouses.
The thunder echoed through the air as the two androids finally reached the entrance of the warehouse. Connor could still not understand why the deviant was helping him. Wasn’t Markus afraid that he would be deactivated and dissected? Did Markus know any better? The RK200 was putting more trust in Connor than he should’ve. This was the opportunity to look into deviant groups. It was clear that Markus had come with other deviants. They must’ve been hiding somewhere nearby. However - it would be unfair to turn in Markus when he had shown Connor kindness. Despite everything, Markus still came back to help Connor, even after having a gun pointed at him.
Was it possible that Markus really wanted freedom?
No. Androids don’t have wants - let alone feelings . Connor’s judgment was clearly blinded by the pain in his leg.
Pain?
Again - another error in Connor’s software. There was something wrong with the RK800’s software. It was clear he needed more than just physical repairs. Androids don’t feel pain. They don’t have feelings. They especially don’t want anything, let alone ‘freedom’. Freedom from what - doing what they were built for? Androids were meant to serve humans. They are machines built to do a task. Nowhere in their programming was room for human-like hope or desires.
“There you are,” Hank yelled from the distance as Markus and Connor approached the warehouse. His gruff expression quickly turned into concern once he saw Connor’s damaged leg. “What the hell happened, Connor?” Lieutenant Anderson asked as he rushed forward to support Connor’s body. He was shockingly uninterested in Markus. It appeared as though he didn’t even notice the RK200 wasn’t human.
“I fell,” Connor muttered defeatedly as he leaned his weight onto Hank.
“Damnit, I told you not to follow it,” Hank snapped. “Why don’t you ever do what I say? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”
“I’m sorry, Hank. I need to replace my leg,” Connor requested as Hank propped the android against the warehouse’s doorway. The RK800’s eyes met the RK200’s once again. Connor was at a loss of what to say next.
“Who’s this?” Hank asked as he glanced at Markus’s ragged clothing.
There was a short pause before anyone spoke. Connor knew he should’ve told Hank to take the deviant into custody. Yet, the longer he looked into Markus’s eyes - the more he realized he couldn’t.
“This is Markus,” Connor said softly. He chose his words carefully. “He’s one of the security guards at the dock site. He found me when I fell.”
He lied . Worse yet, he lied to protect a deviant. Did this mean that Connor was defective? Worse yet, did it mean that Connor was deviant? No - it couldn’t be. This was an error - a repairable error.
“Thank you, Markus,” Hank muttered as he placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “I would’ve never found him in that rainstorm. I’m glad you did before something worse happened to him.”
Markus awkwardly nodded. “It’s my pleasure….really.” He glanced at Connor’s leg. “You should really look into replacing his leg. That doesn’t look good.”
“Connor,” Hank whispered quietly to the RK800. “Where would I go about doing that?”
“There’s likely a compatible leg in the warehouse,” Connor told Hank. He tried to ignore the feeling of thirium dripping down his knee. “I’ll bill CyberLife for the leg so we can continue our investigation.”
Hank nodded. He still seemed concerned but he trusted Connor’s judgment. “Alright, let’s get you inside and find that replacement leg. We’ll get you back in working order.”