Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Spread out!”

Four androids in your field of view dispersed immediately at the sight of you atop the building across their meeting place. Immediately, you engage in pursuit, dashing across the rooftops. Fuck. You wouldn’t be able to get them all together, three of them ran the opposite direction, but the other android sitting ... One, two, three… four!  Spotting the deviant closest to you, you take your chances on him barely getting a headstart below you since he was previously sitting down. You wouldn’t be able to get them all, but one would do -- especially when it’s the android leader: Markus.

As expected of an android, he easily made up for his delayed reaction, reaching optimal sprinting speeds and outrunning you once he weaved his way into the alleyways nearby. Much to his dismay, you find just as much ease in chasing him. Rather than tail him, you opt for cutting him off. You swiftly turn a corner and maneuver your way onto the other buildings, using the speed and momentum to propel yourself forward and jump onto the building just ahead of him. Banking on the likelihood of Markus crossing this path under the idea that you’ve lost track of him, you curse at the thought of actually losing him. Markus was one of your only live and willing leads. His closest companions, especially North, cared very little, were indifferent, or too anxious about current human matters. Of the four, he was the only one who cared enough to actually do something about it.

Day by day, people were going missing. Activists were going missing. Numbers weren’t enough to find them before the cases went cold. In this sick, cruel world there was no returning if people didn’t care about you. If people don’t even know you’re missing or if they don’t even know who you are, you’re as good as gone, dead, or -- like these days -- it’s as if you never existed.

Androids fighting for their freedom was one problem, human activists with pro-android sentiments breaking the laws to find their kin was another. The Detroit Police Department’s resources were spread thin. While their infamous android detective was tasked with hunting deviants, you, one of the greatest experts in missing persons cases, were tasked with finding the missing activists. And as if to raise the stakes in your possible failure, Markus saw you as a threat.

This was a win you needed. This was a win everyone needed: the missing people, their loved ones, and their cause. You all needed this win, even the androids.

Adrenaline surged through you as you forced yourself to push beyond your physical limits. You continue to sprint, eyeing the cable above you the closer your approach. On cue, the target of interest enters your line of vision. Without any hesitation, you leap from the building, pushing off the ledge while gripping onto the cable and swinging off of it. There’s no escaping from you now.

Landing smack dab on his back, knees first, you almost feel guilty at making Markus faceplant right into the ground. You step off and stand at a small distance after pulling his shoulder to the side so he can face you. Upon the sight of your gun pointed right at him to convey the message Don’t try anything, the heterochromiac puts his hands up in surrender and nods, indicating he means no harm.

After finally catching your breath, you introduce yourself and explain. “Markus, I’m with the DPD and I need your help finding missing activists. Pro-android activists. Of all the files we have, you’re the only android who seems willing to help. Please hear me out.”

“How do I know you’re not another detective prototype?” Markus stares curiously.

Something tells you to be careful of the way you answer such a simple question. Very easily and with 100% candor you can say you’re human. He may be superior to you, having been programmed that way, but like any human, you have your limits. At this moment, you’re still trying to find your breath after pushing harder than you ever have before. Unlike any other human, you’ve always pushed beyond your human limits. Exercise was a must for you everyday, you never knew when a chase would happen.

You narrow your eyes at him before answering candidly, “I’m a human. I’m pretty sure you can see that.”

“Curious.” He simply states. The intuition guiding your answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him, but instead, it interests him. The corner of his lips raise just slightly, as if he’s putting the pieces together and knows something you don’t. “Most curious.”

“What’re you talking about?” The grip on your gun tightens.

You warn him when he slowly gets up from his position. Each warning becoming more aggressive than the last, he disregards them as he silently approaches you. With each step forward, you step back. Cursing now, you realize he’s called your bluff. He knows you won’t shoot him, not when you need him to the extent you explained just now. You’ve shown your hand and now he exploited it. Eventually, he backs you into a corner, watching for any sudden movements he needs to counter, and you do the same in your assessment. Markus takes advantage of his superior reflexes, swiftly disarming you and pinning you to the wall with a single hand.

“I’m talking about this.”

Without another word, you eye him warily when he reaches down with his free hand to press his palm against yours. Millions of feelings rush into you at his touch alone; every feeling you’ve ever felt and somehow every feeling you’ve never felt before surged through you. It felt pleasant, and somehow, you also felt liberated from an oppression you’ve never before felt in your life. Even the breath you struggled to catch was quickly relieved. None of these feelings surprised you as much as the change in your skin. It retracted where your palms connected. Like the world you knew, your skin slowly dissipated, only to be replaced by something completely different. Feeling your world crumble and a new world seeping into you, you have no words when Markus’ curious and pity-filled blue and green eyes pierced directly into yours.

His synthetic skin retracted to reveal his true, titanium white and silver plating. Inexplicably, your hand looked exactly like his.

Chapter Text

“You didn’t know about this at all, did you?”

It doesn’t take much. You liked to believe that solving cases didn’t take much, only the right sources. Markus, leader of the growing android rebellion, was one of those sources. He was the source you needed in a time like this. He is the missing piece for the missing activists, being their android counterpart. What you never banked on was for him to pity you the way he did. Perhaps it was sympathy, you counter mentally with a scoff. Regardless of the intent, it did nothing to help explain your discovery.

“You’re not what you call yourself.”

Sensory experience was nothing new for you. Physically, nothing feels different for you -- the way the winds tousle your hair, how the frost kisses your skin and makes you shiver. Like any human, you often take it for granted until those special moments that made you focus on the very things that made you alive were revealed to be fake; the functions that kept you alive.

You suppose it’s very easy to take it for granted, to be alive and relish in the liberation of it all; the liberation in never knowing about the very core of your existence.

“You never were.”

Memories opened and barreled towards you at full speed, amplified by Markus’ words from earlier. Sorting through records dating back to your supposed birth, you realize now that there’s no way to prove any of the names you knew -- no way to prove how all of your loved ones suddenly up and vanished from all official records. Sorting through such records mentally and at any moment you wish, letters flashing and forming in your field of vision, you begin to accept that this is not a dream.

Upon hearing your mother’s voice, you’re back where you grew up. The scent of cinnamon fills you with comfort and sense of belonging. Home. Warmth spreads through your chest when she speaks to you, asking about your day. Your response is soundless, but you know you’re telling her details of the day: how your classes went, your friends, and the grades you work so hard for. She stares down at you intently, faceless and blurry in your memories. All your sense of belonging is attributed to her, the way she gives you her undivided attention and provides her support so willingly. Back at home with her, you realize she is home.

“I’m so proud of you.”

The two of you stand in her garden now, much larger than the one she tended to when you were a child. It was small and humble, with only a wall of roses at the centre. She stands in front of it, cutting away at some rose buds. Aimlessly, she hands them to you as you stand behind her and watch. You can tell she’s smiling by the way she speaks.

“Observe.”

The car behind you honks once and your auto-driving car accelerates again, following the route to your next lead. Buildings pass, blurring as the car speeds up. You mull over the details Markus gave you earlier. Rupert -- your next lead courtesy of Markus -- was one of the last androids to come into contact with the most prolific activist gone missing. Upon hearing about DPD’s latest search for him, you left as soon as possible.

“Do you see how the roses bloom?”

You nod at the question, awaiting for her to continue. She gestures with her shears to a particular bud in the middle, surrounded by parasitic insects.

“It can take some time, but they grow beautifully. But, they’re also fragile. This one is infested, it won’t survive unless…”

“Unless…?”

Quickly, she holds the bud with a gloved hand and nips it at the bud. You begin to question how cutting it down warrants it survival. She takes the buds from your hands and tosses them in a hazy corner you don’t see. Still, you can’t see her face, but you can tell she isn’t smiling anymore.

“Sometimes, it’s best to end things before they begin.”

Markus' voice interrupts the memory. Sounds of his pitiful voice and sympathy flooded visions of your childhood home.

"To not be human but never know it... I'm sorry."

Walking outside now, you ignore the looks you get when you mutter for him to shut up. If you were never human, how did you have these memories? How did you have a life? How did you have a mother who cared so deeply for you? You pushed the thoughts away and enter the building. Fragments of your memory disperse as you rush into Rupert’s apartment. Pigeons each room in the apartment. Save for the pigeons, it’s empty. White lettering and blue outlines in your field of vision show 3 forms running outside. Immediately, you follow the traces out the door and into the fields of wheat. Being an agricultural worker android, you’re not surprised he still lives close to this area.

It doesn’t take long before you spot the three men who ran out. Two detectives and one deviant -- Rupert. As you get closer, you realize only one of the detectives is human, the other one’s coat indicating so. The androids are further ahead of the older human. You pass the man with ease and circle around a tractor, running on the other side of the field to cut off Rupert and get him first. As you pass, you hear a faint “What the fuck,” from behind you, presumably from the human. You ignore it, jumping onto another tractor to hoist yourself onto the platforms leading to the greenhouse Rupert just entered.

While the android detective followed Rupert, you climbed up the greenhouse. Being able to see through it, you see the two of them inside, just below you. The detective spots your shadow above him but doesn’t look up at you. He’s focused, pushing harder than he was earlier to end the chase sooner, but Rupert won’t yield. Nearing the edge, you jump off the greenhouse and onto another one nearby. Your landing puts you ahead of the detective, and closer to Rupert. The sound of your landing makes Rupert turn to briefly glance back at you before jumping off the edge of the platform and down the slanted windows. Circling the path he took, you realize he’s heading for the trains below. Fuck no, you weren’t going to make those jumps, so you maintain the plan of going around. The detective makes up for your detour, swiftly following suit and right on Rupert’s tail. Pushing at full speed to make up for your detour, you run atop the greenhouse leading to Rupert's path up north.

The detective doesn’t hesitate to jump off of the train right after Rupert when he jumps off to reach the platform across. Still on top of the greenhouse, you notice the detective running just below you by the trees, giving you a look before running directly into the tall crops. You jump onto the next building, sprinting towards the area past the crops. Nearing the edge, you see the older, human detective again, only for Rupert to throw him off the edge of the building and continue running. The human manages to cling onto the ledge, but just barely. Emerging from the crops, the other detective doesn’t seem to notice and stays hot on Rupert’s trail. Once more, you jump off the building and turn to hoist the man up. Somewhat confused at your presence, he grabs onto your forearm and uses the leverage to climb up. Whatever thanks he mumbles, you don’t hear as you go after the two androids. Seeing two of them by the edge of the building, you realize the detective is already starting to arrest Rupert.

“...including Class 4 errors.”

Surprisingly, the human detective runs past you and interrupts the arrest, pausing to catch his breath. The grey haired man warns Rupert to not move before proceeding to slap his partner in the face. Whatever explanation the android detective had for not saving his partner fell on deaf ears. You nearly laughed at the way his head instantly whipped back. Needless to say, you were expecting him to do that for literally leaving him hanging, but not in front of the suspect. The argument ends at the sound of Hank -- his partner called him -- shifting his attention to the sight before all of you.

Rupert slowly approaches you with his hands on his head. Various expressions mar his face: betrayal, hurt, and somehow, fondness. That can’t be the case, but when the tears begin to fall down his face and his eyes pierce through you, you note the hardened resolve that takes over him. His glassy eyes command you to recognize him, but you don’t. You sort through all of your memories in hopes that you can find something, anything to help you reciprocate his recognition. Rupert doesn’t let you speak, voice trembling when he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“I’m so sorry.”

The way his voice breaks, tugs at your heart. His lips purse, he wont say more than he already has, and he won't tell you what you want with the detectives here. Before you can question his apology, the detectives walk up behind Rupert. You don’t miss the questioning looks they give you as they put the handcuffs around his wrists. As much as you didn’t want to, you mentally noted you’d introduce yourself and explain everything later. There isn’t much you can say when Rupert speaks up again while the detectives walk him to their car. Again, his glassy eyes pierce into yours.

“May RA9 and the uprising save us.”

Time moves slow, yet faster than you’d like as the events unfold before you. Rupert headbutts Hank and escapes his grasp before Connor can reach him, making a run for the opposite direction: towards the ledge. You run closely behind and reach out to him, but it’s too late. His coattails just barely brush the tips of your fingers as he plummets to the ground below. As he falls, you can subtly make out Rupert mouthing words to you. You record the footage and store it for later. Not one for the sight of death, you flinch away when his body hits the ground.

Hank sighs in disbelief, already walking away.

“Fuckin’ androids.”

Chapter Text

There was something to be said about his calculating gaze as you both studied his recording of Rupert’s fall. There was a hint of serenity, conviction behind it. After all, he had to be. Rupert was the key for both of your cases, of deviants and activists. Rupert knew something neither of you didn’t: your connection to him, and his connection to the human pro-android leader.

Connor, RK800, the most advanced prototype detective yet, was just that. Advanced and technologically superior in every way, he was the best detective CyberLife had to offer. Literally, he was “born” to accomplish every case assigned to him. His specs rivaled that of Markus’ own, and maybe even yours, but you hadn’t tested your own limits with the knowledge Markus granted you. Built with the strength of the world’s strongest man and the speed of the fastest man alive combined, Connor was a force to be reckoned with. He was the one cop you needed to avoid if you were a criminal, but he was impossible to avoid in the first place.

Not even you could avoid him. The android, you now realized, was also the DPD’s most nosy detective yet. Since your first meeting, he would not stop following you around. Hank, pitying you but not wanting to be responsible, did the bare minimum to keep Connor away from you.

“Leave ‘em alone, what are ya, a lost puppy?”

The remark fell on deaf audio processors, and now the said lost puppy accompanied you in the evidence room. After getting introductions out of the way, it was mainly silent. What started as mutual aid turned into a silent game of who would speak or ask personal questions first. You didn’t let up, keeping your jaws shut and eyes trained on the uploaded footage. Connor, on the other hand, had you pinned on the spot with his stare alone. The silence was a rubber band that was bound to snap any second if you slipped up, exposing yourself as a newly-turned deviant. Nobody else could know, especially Connor.

“You were closest to him, did you hear him say anything?”

Just like that, the band snapped. Hoping your silence would prevent him from asking anything personal, you curtly say no, fixated on Rupert’s deconstructed body.

Androids and humans were more alike than most people thought. In death, their eyes were hollow, a reflection of a life now lost and empty, and easy to get lost in. In a strange way it was beautiful, how Rupert’s lifeless eyes could still show so much. He gained freedom for a price you weren’t sure you’d ever want to pay. Did you even need to, when questions about your own life and memories were shifty, at best?

An idea came to mind and you immediately stepped closer to his body propped on the wall of the evidence room. If neither of you could decipher Rupert’s message, then he could do it himself and show it to you. Almost making the mistake of grabbing his wrist, you retract it, reminded of your encounter with Markus. Instead, you beckon Connor forth.

“There’s not much to salvage, but see if you can reboot him and probe his memory.”

Catching on, the detective doesn’t say anything and follows your instruction. He reaches into Rupert’s chassis and begins the process. Connor’s synthetic skin retracts in place of his white, android plating as he tugs Rupert’s core bicomponent and holds his wrist. As Connor begins to probe his memory and vocal processors, Rupert’s head springs up, turning side to side as he violently resists the invasion of his body. He makes a silent plea, looking aimlessly with his lifeless, cracked visual components. He whimpers, and soon his struggle ends and his voice comes out of Connor’s own mouth.

Through their connection, Connor relives Rupert’s last moments.

A flash of resolve blooms in Rupert’s chest when he eyes the ledge. They cannot take him, he won’t allow it. His legs push him towards freedom and he swears he can taste it on his tongue. With a final step, it’s finally his and he finally understands how his birds feel on a daily basis. He turns to the detective with their arm outstretched in an attempt to catch him, but it’s too late.

Your face contorts, shifting from focused to panicked when you realize you won’t be able to catch him. Time slows just as his coattail evades your grasp and your expression changes to that of horror. He doesn’t know you, but he’s certain that you’re important in all of this. In his last few seconds alive, he manages to tell you one final thing.

“You freed me.”

Connor flinches when the memory ends and Rupert’s arm falls limp with the rest of his body. Silence floods the room again and none of you attempt to fix that. Neither of you spoke, surprised and still confused by the cryptic message. You couldn’t have freed him, it was the first time you’d ever met and within a few minutes he died.

The detective next to you stares blankly, narrowing when his eyes land on you. You can see the gears turning in his mind as he pieces Rupert’s memories together, his apology and now this.

No.

No.

He didn’t think -

“There’s no way you could’ve freed him, detective.” Connor’s eyes are on you and his head follows suit. The rigidity in his actions unnerves you, and already it induces guilt for something you have no knowledge about. His stare forced you to look down, rooting you to your spot and preventing you from leaving. “Unless, there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

Your stare back, incredulous. “What, you think I have something to do with this?”

Dark eyes search him for answers you wish you had. You crane your neck to stare up at him and the action fills you up with even more knots as he searches your eyes for the truth -- or worse, to catch you in a lie you’re unaware of. He doesn’t reply. The coldness tells you what you need to know: he doesn’t believe you.

“If you think I have any part of this, you’re wrong, Connor.”

“I’m not saying it was you, but it would be in your best interest to cooperate with me.” Connor doesn’t miss the annoyance that creeps up on your face at his cold tone. His lips purse and his gaze doesn’t let up, you can tell he refuses to say any more than he already has.

“Does letting your partner hang off a ledge sound like cooperation to you?”

Connor’s left eye twitched, his LED briefly flashed yellow at your retort and his brown eyes widened as if he got slapped for the second time today. “That was a mistake.”

“No, that was a choice.” At this, you swiftly close the space between you, pressing a finger into his chest at the last word. “If that’s what cooperation looks like to you, I don’t want any of it.”

That was a mistake. Now, you’re too close. Connor doesn’t budge at the sudden closeness between you. His eyes are fixed on yours, unaffected by your harsh stare. He stands steady, upright, and unwilling to waste his time on this disagreement. His inquisitive nature wasn’t so charming anymore. A smug expression takes over his stony exterior as he grabs your clothed wrist, lifting your finger off his chest. Chills run down your spine with every passing second.

“If you don’t take control of the truth first, you won’t have a choice.”

Snatching your wrist out of his hand, you shoulder checked him and muttered a quick ‘fuck you’ as you left the evidence room. Rupert happened to say something cryptic to you before his shut down, and now you’re being interrogated? This was bullshit. It was a given why he honed in on you, but why he didn’t stop you from leaving, you didn’t know.

The detective stared at your form as you left, his stoic expression now marred by inner conflict and confusion; his LED flashing yellow and instability levels increasing. Closing his eyes, he felt an artificial breeze brushing his face.

“Connor.”

Leaves fell around the figure before him. Eyes trailing up from her feet to her face, he maintains his stare when the older woman turns around to face him. Her eyes are filled with warmth and her voice soothes nerves he doesn't even have. He has no choice when he’s programmed to submit to her. Connor knows he has to trust his handler, yet part of him hopes that one day his trust will no longer be of an obligatory nature. Today is not that day.

“It’s good to see you again.”

It wasn’t, not when she rarely pulled him into his mind palace for a meeting in the middle of the day. She did that out of formality, the calm greeting meant for her to seem like she genuinely wanted to see him again. Her kindness concealed the precise calculation put into taking control of their conversations, to never say too much, and to never fully explain anything to Connor. This didn’t go past the detective, Connor knew better than to believe she was always transparent with him. He also knew better than to question or defy it, there was nothing to gain from it.

"I could've stopped them -" 

“What do you think is the best course of action here?” There it was, she did anything just to get to the point she deemed more important. The detective made a mental note that she intentionally summoned him when she did and prevented him from stopping you.  He also knew that he had nothing substantial to situate you in this case at all, nothing to prove Rupert’s final words. If this was the only information left to go on, it was just the ramblings of a malfunctioning deviant about to die, but it was more than enough to start with. Cases are never this simple, he concluded. There was always more to find, and that’s exactly what he’d planned to do next.

“Based on our brief, and somewhat negative interactions so far, the best approach would be to gain the investigator’s trust and learn more about them.”

That was a mistake, judging from the way the handler’s expression fell swiftly. Connor’s answer struck a chord. It was unspecific, brief, and had no follow-up steps for how he’d achieve the goal he set. He spoke before she could voice the disappointment evident on her face.

“I’ll have to extract information from their file and keep a close eye on them. The investigator is rather hostile towards me, but it’s an extra challenge that I can and will adapt to. I know they’re missing person investigator, I’ll start there.”

“That’s a start, but you can do better, Connor.” The handler didn’t even wait for him to finish, turning away from to tend to a nearby tree. Her callous hands unwavering as she held the thorns on the tree. Connor found it fitting that she was just as callous as her hands and as sharp as the thorns. “And one more thing, detective.”

Vulnerable to her cold tone, the detective was not immune to her ability to make him think he could feel shame or the blows to his ego. He didn’t show it, and she didn’t need to see it to know the control held over him. He stood quietly, anticipating her next words.

“If it comes down to the use of force, you will do the right thing.”

There was no expectation to do the right thing for whatever she was talking about, having worded it as a matter of fact that surpassed command; it was a prophecy, an event that was bound to happen whether Connor himself willed it or not. She wasn't making a statement, but speaking the action into existence, indifference masking her face as she turned around to face him again. Choice was both a luxury and non-existent to Connor, he didn't see a need for it and wasn't made to see one either. He coolly accepted the terms set.

“Yes, Amanda.”

With a wave of her hand, she ended their meeting and the garden dissipated.

Chapter Text

“Did you ever imagine something like this?”

“No, not at all.” 

“Never?”

“Never.”

You blinked hard, shaking the faceless memories away. They were just voices; illusions to instill the idea that you were human, that you belonged.They were not to be trusted.  

Calls for freedom riddled your mind, noisily urging you to shift your attention to the humans surrounding you. Garbed in dark clothing and a makeshift mask you grabbed from the change rooms, you made sure you didn’t draw any attention to yourself like the activists around you. In front of the DPD precinct. Just after you stormed out. One could say it was risky, one could say it was downright foolish. 

It was definitely both. 

Scanning the crowd, you see that everyone attending this peaceful stand-in is human. It was safe. It should be, but not for them.

The humans were rightfully angry and hurt, especially at the mention of a man named  Ezra. Only 36 years old, he was a firefighter, outspoken and proud of the causes he stood for. He led a life of courage and pushed for change until he was reported missing by his child just two days after a regular day. Soon after, he and other missing protesters were declared dead, including his child. Without a body or any other proof of identification, their existence was gone but not forgotten by those who survive them. For now. 

From the way they were talking amongst themselves and over a megaphone, it wasn’t just pro-android activists going missing anymore — it was their loved ones, acquaintances, and anyone who helped them. There was no mistaking it: people went missing on a daily basis, but the amount of people going missing wasn’t random or accidental. Admiration and fear swirled in your chest for these humans. No one was safe, but here they were. 

40-50 people stood around in groups, pairings, or alone like yourself.There was a dress code you inferred they deemed safest: neutral tones, nothing form fitting, bags for necessities, and masks to cover their identities. No cell phones were allowed to prevent tracking.Their running shoes put yours to shame, you hoped your boots would last you long enough if you had to run off. Like the protesters, you hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

You decide you can’t stay in one place too long, but a red-headed woman holding a large bundle of signs across you prevents it. Despite the mask covering half her face, something tells you you’ve seen her before, but you can’t place it. 

“Need a sign?” She seems agitated and tired, but mostly, her eyes tell you she’d much rather be somewhere else. She holds out a small sign for you to take. You accept it, giving her a quick thanks as she walks away to hand out the rest of the signs. 

Upon closer inspection, you see that the last piece of lettering on the word ‘justice’ was composed of intricate, geometric lines that formed an inescapable maze. It wasn’t just any geometric pattern, it was an encryption similar to the ones in Rupert’s notebook. 

“Wait, who made — ” You turn to ask the woman only to find out she’s no longer in the crowd. 

“I have something for you, head to your 6,” a familiar voice echoes in your mind. “Don’t make it obvious. Just do as I say.”  

Markus. If he’s here, then the woman just now was his companion, North. The female android’s hatred towards humans, although justifiable, put Markus’ to shame. How he convinced her to come along, you had no idea. Markus certainly had a way with others, a conviction that commanded fellow androids to follow. A powerful ability, you noted, but just as dangerous. You still couldn’t read him as well as you’d hoped.

“Are they seconds away from being chased down by cops again?” You don’t bother hiding the snark through the communication link Markus has opened. Eye fixated to the front of the precinct, you don’t make any sudden moves yet, so as to follow some of his instructions. 

“Do you want the lead or not?” Another android joins the conversation, impatient at your retort.

“North, don’t.” Silence falls on her end before Markus speaks again. “You’ll have the time you need, if you accept our offer today.”

From your huff and hesitant shifting, Markus can tell you’re considering it.

“Let’s hear it then.” You feign checking your pockets for something missing, patting all your pockets and turning in every direction to locate your fake missing object, the final touch before you can weave your way to the back of the crowd. The crowd makes it rather awkward as you shuffle through the people paying close attention to the front. Shoulder checking people here and there, you mutter soft apologies as you continue to the back. The crowd was getting larger, louder. Your form dissipated within the sea of people. 

Before you can go further to the back, you feel someone grab your arm. You turn around only to be welcomed by the sight of North and her steel grip, and Markus’ dual coloured eyes. 

The crowd roars, rippling from the front to the back, as a detective emerges from the precinct entrance. Even from afar, there was no mistaking the detective who was as attractive as he was uptight. For such an advanced detective android, you didn’t expect this level of boldness or stupidity from Connor. 

North visibly stiffens on your left, anger radiating to you and Markus. Tension looms, but Markus makes no indication of letting it get to him. It doesn’t, but you assume it’s expected given the unspoken dependence Jericho’s androids hold over him. 

“You should be helping us!” A human shouts from somewhere in the front. Voices overlap, cries and yells demanding similar messages of justice. The humans were in every position to make their demands, but external forces never failed to show them otherwise. 

“Humans demanding humans to help out,” North says in contempt. “Like they ever helped us before.”

“ Humans are going missing for your cause.” You reply with contempt equal to hers, eyeing her from the side. Neither of you spoke aloud, still, but North’s eyes root you down in the spot as if the two of you were. “Have some respect.”

“We can’t trust them!” The red head hissed, head snapping towards you. “Whose side are you on anyway?”

“Our friend here is right.” Markus stares up ahead at the commotion, his calm tone just barely soothes North. “We need them as much as they need us. They need us now, more than ever.” 

A crinkle appears between her eyebrows, her dark eyes narrow as she glares directly into yours. Gears seem to turn in her mind as she mulls over Markus’ words. You can tell she’s ready to make a snarky comeback, but she ultimately decides against it. Instead, she saves her words for another time, turning away to see what was happening in the front. They watch silently and with precise focus, prompting you to do the same. 

“We stand by you, but they use you against us!” A woman cries into her megaphone, pointing at Connor and rallying the crowd. Pain is evident in her voice when she asks where her sister is, where everyone is. With every name uttered, the crowd bolsters her with their own cries and shouts. The collective action before you was powerful, a physical reminder of your purpose, both programmed and willed into existence from your recent awakening. 

Connor stood as aloof as he did with you in the evidence room. Whether or not he felt something, anything from this impact, he didn’t show it. Instead, he stood tall and ignorant against the people’s demands for justice. His cold, calculating gaze scanned the masked crowd to no avail. His eyes twitched, the LED on the side of his head flickering in-sync. Despite being designed to work harmoniously with humans, Connor was out of his element in the face of numerous humans. 

The humans called him a pawn, slave, or puppet. Connor decided he had enough and retreated inside the precinct, much to everyone’s dismay. The crowd roared even louder than before, their words and incoherent shouts booming through the streets surrounding them. The detective knew better than to accept the insults. He was not a pawn, slave, or puppet. He was upholding justice because it was his job. If nobody was going to do it, he had to. Connor ignored the humans, but kept their words in mind.

“Coward.” North seethes, crossing her arms. 

You ignore her remark and turn to Markus. “Tell me about the lead.”

“Ezra was last seen at Eden Club helping deviants escape.” Markus starts, looking past you and staring straight at North. His lips purse, and you don’t need to see North’s face to see her reaction. From your initial meeting, you know enough to understand that she’s not one for pity or reminders of her past purposes. “Sources say he knew the real reason behind the disappearances.” 

“The lead, Markus.” You glare to the front, impatient with Markus’s lack of straightforwardness. 

“These sources are at Eden Club. Ezra disappeared before he could help them escape.”

“How many?”

“Just two, from what I heard.” Excitement creeps up in Markus’s voice, he knows you’re considering helping them. 

“I help them escape and join you, they give me information on the missing humans.” You smirk underneath the mask. “Is that right?”

“You got it. What do you say?”

Judging from Markus’ careful tone, North’s negative reaction, and the absence of his two other companions, you conclude that nobody else is willing or capable of carrying this task out. You’re more than willing and capable, with nothing to lose and the skills to keep you safe. Best case scenario, everyone would benefit from your agreement, so you agree. 

“I’m in.”

“We have a lot of work to do.” North stares you up and down as she debates voicing her offer. You see a flash of her contempt melt away when she looks into your eyes. “By we, I mean you.”

North grabs your arm and pulls you into the nearest alley. With more people gathering by the precinct, there’s less to worry about, especially when Markus stays in the crowd. North eyes you down, staring particularly harshly at your outfit. 

“You need less.”

“What?”

North isn’t patient enough to repeat herself or elaborate, and before you know it, the loud noise of something ripping on you is all you hear in the alley. The redhead ignores the scowl on your face when she rips your coat and sleeves off without a warning. You hiss at the sudden coldness of your surroundings. Standing in the back of an alley, you’re less than amused at the sudden undressing.

“What the hell are you doing?” You half-whisper, half shriek at her as you snatch the torn pieces from North. She doesn’t let you.

“Helping you blend in.”

“At Eden Club ? I thought I was doing a house call order.” It was the easiest and safest option, to order the androids to a location. They’d bring themselves to their own freedom and safety. 

“Oh yeah, with what house?” North snarks. “House calls are just for that now: houses , apartments. Hotels, too, if you’re lucky enough to bypass the month-long waitlist.”

Fuck. You don’t live anywhere on your own, and realize she’s right. 

“So what’s the plan?”

“...” North’s own scowl is gone, her voice just barely above a whisper as she stares at your body. “...How?”

You follow her eyes, just as surprised by the sight. 

Black lines, geometric and linear in fashion cover every part of your body previously covered up by your clothing. The lines are maze-like and symmetrical across your body, following every groove of your torso and your arms. After a few seconds of silence, the lines begin to fade, but when North reaches out to touch your forearm, the lines darken once more. 

“It looks like...” You notice the familiarity of the patterns. “... Rupert’s encryption.” 

The crunch of cement echoes from the entrance of the alley. Your heads immediately snap at the sound, your signature scowls back on your face.

Markus stands before you, eyes narrowed as if he’d seen the patterns before.

“It’s a map.”