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Summary
“RK800, wake up."
The darkness of forced stasis retreated faster than Connor could catch it. He grimaced; blinking his eyes, it took him a moment to focus, squinting as his optical units adjusted. He remembered… Being tailed. Slipping through the streets, never quite able to catch sight of his pursuant. Never quite getting a glimpse. But—he’d thought he’d lost them. Thought he’d retrace his steps tomorrow—figure out who was following him and why.
He’d gone home to Hank’s house. He’d been wrong.
