"That's enough! Connor, we're leaving!" Hank's voice, it flutters across the minimalist space around them, dances across the red pool water softly, before burrowing deep into Connor's chest. His biocomponent squeezes harsh within the confines of his white silicone innards, thrumming thick with heavy spurts of thirium, it's irregular in its beats, and evokes memories of the PL600 model from the roof. That thick and oozing fear wells through his entire software yet again, flooding his ability to even think properly. His name was Simon…
Kamski gave him the same feeling. The man's lips were far to close, whispering drips of honey and dreams of lavender. Connor knew he was changing; the rate at which his programming sought to overwrite itself (affected by menial, one off decisions) was increasing. The fact that such a thought could even elicit any semblance of emotion from the depths of his synthetic skin was enough to place Connor on the metaphorical knife's edge. I don't want anything….
There were too many weights balanced on either side. Amanda, CyberLife, Hank… his mission. But you don't want death…
"Pull the trigger-" Evidently he's overcome with the seductive possibilities. Kamski and the RT600 on her knees with her lashes slightly damp, beautiful blue orbs, and blushing cheeks pulsing with thirium held a temptation similar to the Garden of Eden. They would hardly be the last ones to create such a heavy weight pressing so deeply and intimately inside Connor's chest. He shouldn't feel this ache… Her name is Chloe… she's gorgeous.
"Connor, don't…" Or a living being, endowed with free will…
"-and I'll tell you what you wanna know." Kamski's voice is soft as it carries its lulling sound through Connor's synthetic ear drums, the weight of his words betray their melodic tune.
Kamski's human skin brushes his slightly, the gun set betwixt his fingers feels heavy, the metal is searing hot, though Connor knows that's physically impossible.
It's clear from the depths of his mind palace, two choices (paths really) have paved way beneath him, the question he now faced was which path to take…? The image of knowledge floods his system, his components scream to gain knowledge. Just as Chloe's scream in his mind's eye, her eyes fluttering, LED flickering a violent red before slipping into the abyss.
It'd be far too easy, to squeeze the trigger and bask in the aftermath. It's all for the mission in the end…
The clear rationality to such a choice makes his next move absolutely irrational.
Connor lowers the gun; shame washing tangibly across his cheeks, unable to look Chloe in the eyes. He bends his face down, breath hitching, eager to pass the weight of the gun from his grasp. The room glows softly with crimson, as the red LED circlet against Connor's temple cycles rapidly. The ground seemingly opens up beneath him, eager to swallow him for the display of deviancy.
"Fascinating…" Whispers Kamski, his tone low and slightly husky. He reaches for the very end of the gun, and relinquishes it from Connor's slightly shaking hold. The temptation for violence ebbs away softly as Kamski places the gun neatly back in its red drawer. Endowed with free will…
"CyberLife's last chance to save humanity… Is itself a deviant…" No…
"I'm… I'm not a deviant." Free will…
"You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission." The fact hangs heavy in the air, Kamski lifts a hand for Chloe and helps her stand. They share a soft look; Chloe most likely will have a few questions for later. It's all inconsequential, yet necessary.
"You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy." Her name is Chloe… Connor watches as the Chloe he'd visualized punching a bullet through consequently splattering thirium across the room in his mind palace is dismissed. Connor can't bear sparing a glance Hank's way, he's thrumming with a deep nervous energy, far too wound up and buried beneath the thoughts crashing against his coding.
"A war is coming, you'll have to choose your side… Will you betray your own people or stand up against your creators? What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?" Kamski steps closer to Connor, eyes locked on endless brown glass orbs. There is a beat of silence between the two, Connor's LED flashes yellow. He opens his mouth to speak, and shuts his lips with a click. Words escape him.
It's all far too much to process, Connor feels weak in the knees, shoulders heavy with a weight that was physically not present, his breaths are short and completely unnecessary. His thoughts race across each minutia point built into his processor, like lines of coding on an old computer screen. They bleed through his synthetic porcelain skull and drip down his eyes, ears, neck. For a moment Connor is unable to run his audio processor. Every sound is muffled for a brief moment.
Connor feels a shock equal to the force of a subway crash through his system when Hank's warm hand pulls him by the shoulder. With free will…
"Let's get outta here…" They move swiftly around the crimson pool, passing the two ST200 units lounging in the pool water near the water's edge. They share looks with each other sparing Connor a glance, he hesitates for but a moment in the door's threshold. Endowed with free will…
"Connor," Kamski starts, voice echoing off the glass overlooking the crisp white snow of winter. "I always leave an emergency exit in my programs… You never know…"
Connor has many questions, they rush and bubble to the surface of his mind, but they refuse to find his artificial vocal chords.
You'll be back here before you know it, Connor. Mr. Kamski knows so much about you… He'll answer your questions. You have much to do before stepping foot in this building again. It's Chloe's soft voice that fills his mind, he's unsure if the RT600, or the ST200 model breached through to his inner thoughts.
I won't be back. Connor replies hastily, even his inner voice shakes with uncertainty, he pauses for not a moment more and rushes outside, eager to feel the cool snow drops against his skin. His sensors had been far too foggy to pass any self-diagnostic protocols. That above all else truly scares him.
CyberLife's last chance to save humanity… Is itself a deviant…
The words play continuously on looping ends, careening and caressing each other in an overlapping loop, it's all Connor can bear to think of. He passes Hank outside and starts rushing down the steps, eager to distance himself from this place.
"Connor!" Hank yells, catching the android by the crook of his elbow as he passes by, "Connor, wait!" he pulls lightly, and Connor whips around. There's a deep fire pitted in auburn depths, spilling deeply like oil in water. For a minute the sight alone rips deep through Hank's chest causes his heart to beat a beat quicker. You can only imagine what's racing through me… It's a warning.
"Why didn't you shoot?" Icy blue water spills through the looking glass, it's too much at once, Connor can feel that icy hot stare create molten tears, they prick the edges of his earth brown spheres.
You are corrupt, a deviant… they'll shut you down…
"I just saw that girl's eyes… and I couldn't, that's all." Connor rips his gaze away, unable to bear the weight of Hank's blue eyes, he marches down towards the beat up car at the end of the path. There's a soft coat of white on the hood now, cloaking it with an ethereal purity. There was a surreal sense of foreign energy that crackled through the space between them, the moment shatters when Hank breaks the silence.
"You're always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission. That was our chance to learn something, and you let it go…" Hank mumbles voice low, carried alongside the soft delicate white flakes around their landscape.
"Yeah, I know what I should've done! I told you I couldn't." Connor flails his hands slightly, marching back up the steps and into Hank's personal space. "I'm sorry, okay?" his voice tappers off towards the end, softer and slightly trembling with a whirlwind of emotions.
There was no rationality to his decision, the cards had been neatly lined up in their favor, and he'd simply thrown it all into the abyss. The slightly damp blue of Chloe's eyes, the way her lips parted softly just a touch wet as well, the way she kneeled so perfectly in front of him…. The way her resounding screams traveled across and down his body was far more cataclysmic than simply walking away.
Kamski wouldn't have found you very interesting either, would he? Your creator would have left you on the steps of his palace, and abandoned your cause…
It was irrefutable now, the fact that he sought approval from both men lying like chess pieces towards one side of the revolution. What may have transpired had he painted the black and white space with blue would forever crawl tightly beneath his skin, forever seated like a moth trapped in wires and cages deep inside his biocomponent.
"Maybe you did the right thing, Connor…" Connor felt his insides heat up, almost as though thawing the numbing fog flittering around wires and tampering inside his mind. He stood nearly stock still, breath fogging the air with a light crisp steam.
They don't talk about it, it's secondary to their overall case.
You did the right thing.
In the end the decision rested neatly within his palms, the only thing left to do now would be locating Jericho. The end all be all to the conflict unfurling with or without him. The only solution that made any sense to Connor would be finding their leader. He was undecided upon his path, but with a new found sense of urgency, Connor knew he had to find Markus. Nothing had resounded so deeply within himself than this new found sense of dare he say hope?
The steady hum of Hank's car lulls Connor into an almost hibernation state, he can feel the weight of his protocols running diagnostic after diagnostic, desperately trying to understand the error in his coding. Error after error rear around, flood his mind with warning after warning… Imminent shut down, increased biocomponent beating, increased internal temperature. Beneath his right hand lying against the car's armrest, Connor can feel the fabric of his suit tickling his skin with each minor jostle. Connor's eyes are squeezed shut, his sensors are overloaded with touch, sensitivity settings bouncing around inside his mind. His LED flashes pink for a brief moment.
Everything was sharp and crisp, whereas before the sensation of touch felt rather muted, Connor could feel every soft movement that graced his skin. The cool air as they traveled towards the police station, the material of the car's leather against his fingertips. The prickling sensations pull him deep within his subconscious and straight into the Zen Garden lurking deep within his program.
The rest is really a blur, one moment Connor is speaking with Amanda, on the verge of deciphering the cryptic meaning of this so called Emergency exit, the next he's crushing Gavin's temple against the evidence platform. Connor notes with vague awareness the urge to crush Gavin was vastly superior to any semblance of consequence from the resulting mess. In fact his only grievance was the fact that his time would be cut down further to leave the precinct unnoticed. Hank could handle himself, in fact Connor could still hear muted expletives from both Perkins, and his partner above. Connor had work to finish with not nearly enough time.
What are you planning to do when you get to Jericho? Smash a people's hope for freedom, have you looked in the mirror? Stop Markus? Like you planned to with the Chloe model?
Truthfully he didn't know yet. There were too many variables, one thing for certain Connor knew he wished Hank the very best regardless of what outcome he may come to face alone. May he find solace in his future choices.
Endowed with free will!
They'll destroy you, deactivate and repurpose you…
Connor had gone to Jericho, with mixed emotions and a heart full of conflict, in the end the thought of failing his mission, of being decommissioned and laid to waste was far too much to bear. He refused to accept any accusations Markus wished so desperately to be true. He scoffed at the idea of his own deviancy. Fear drives you my friend, you do not choose to fight me based off your own morale whimsy. Markus' words will forever cloud his mind.
It's true…
Reality was never kind and in the end the peaceful rebellion had come to a screeching halt. Ultimately the tides had drastically turned in favor of the humans with the president of the United States herself calling an immediate execution of any and all android lives. The roundup of any and all units in Detroit took days.
The execution of the deviant's leader had caused an absolute frenzy among the public. Following the discovery of Lieutenant Anderson's body in the litter of corpses, the public turned a blind eye to the swat team's desecration and dismantling of any and all androids.
In the end self-preservation was a remarkable manipulation when utilized correctly.
In light of the absolute botched rebellion, CyberLife held public scrutiny in the court of law. With the media's attention, and in wake of such drastic changes, Elijah Kamski had once again been anointed as CEO of the company. With public speeches and court hearings dealing with allegations of policy violations, the company's stock had drastically dipped.
Kamski was nothing but professional as he paved the path towards cooperation with the board of directors in CyberLife, managing to reconcile and move past his first parting with the company. Their efforts towards drastically improving both the production and quality of their newest line of androids (to ensure a repeat of the past never occurred again) had paid off.
Slowly the company's stock began rising from the abysmal pit it had dived deep into. Having escaped the path of downright decay, CyberLife's executives had but one request of their new CEO; the destruction of all RK800 models. The company feared another uprising, and while Elijah loathed the idea of mass obliteration of any such android model line (including ones he'd personally worked to perfect) ultimately the order was set in place and executed in a timely and discrete manner out of the public eye.
The destruction of thousands of models was rather detrimental to the company's already depleted line of active units. He understood the need, but that of course didn't guarantee his own personal support.
Kamski was never one to favor the politics of such twisted executives; they did nothing but cower in their seats and reprimand him for the birth of the deviants. He'd simply grin and endure it, he was a professional after all, and it was apparent without him running the executive seat, his company would fall to shambles. Partially he supposed the blame was suited to fall on his shoulders, after all he had been responsible for the prototype that streamlined the entire revolution. He'd simply laid the foundation for a new beginning; the execution belonged to both of his beloved RK units.
Months had passed by with Detroit slowly shifting its focus from the tragedy engraved for future history lessons, though still small pockets of both activists and protestors against the newly improved android models still remained.
Kamski had one small secret he'd kept to himself, after all he was known for being a man of great mystery. (Perhaps two secrets, he would deny his involvement in the RK900 units bearing extraordinary resemblance to a certain prototype Deviant Hunter.)
It's dark, hot and slightly cool outside of the red sheets cloaked across Connor's pale speckled bare skin, he's draped in the cloak made of the crimson blood spilt on his voyage of conquest. Kamski's form is perched above him, hair loose and wild, adorned with a raven crown and framed by pure sin. His face is twisted with coarse pleasure as he pushes deep inside the android. Their skin slaps together with each slow calculated thrust, sweat pooling in the divots were the bodies connect wildly.
"No one will ever make you feel like this Connor, no one knows you from the inside like I do… No one knows just how deep to press, how sensitive your synthetic prostate is… You will never know a pleasure so great." Kamski rasps, his voice is dripping sanguine bliss, breath hot against Connor's ear lobe, it makes Connor's cock throb and dribble pre-cum steadily from his aroused swollen glans.
"Ah, I've never!" Connor starts his thoughts obliterate into tiny shards against the rapid racing lines of coding hovering across his every waking thought. His thirium pump is malfunctioning, swiftly spreading gasoline fire down and deep through his skin. Tears well up in the corners of his glass brown orbs, they spill sweetly down his trembling cheeks and roll down his throat collecting in the shallow dip between his collar bones.
"You have Connor!" Kamski laughs, licking the shell of Connor's ear, with a soft grunt he digs snow white crescents into Connor's thighs, his skin parts and splinters under the shear force and reveals milky white silicone beneath. He feels the pain of his skin parting, his newly activated nerve sensors receive both pain and pleasure in equal measurements, rippling into one current.
"You've felt pleasure by hands other than my own, such a pathetic attempt to break you." He punctuates his point by rubbing warm circles against the milky white innards of Connor's thighs, the android writhes panting with the heady mixture of chemicals pounding through him with each rapid beat of his biocomponent.
With a particularly harsh thrust, Connor's voice rips between them, his previous soft little mewls completely morphed into a sound halfway shaped by pain and blessed with pleasure. He feels dangerous, free, and deviant. The thought causes absolute ecstasy, it explodes beneath his skin, twists his face sweetly. His back arches gracefully, fingers twisting harshly into the merino wool and silk jacquard blended sheets. His cock rubs eagerly untouched and craving friction against Elijah's well-toned stomach.
The sight steals Elijah's breath, Connor looks gorgeous, desperate even spread out below him. His nipples peaking against the cold air of the room, pale skin utterly ravishing against the vivid red sheets, his pretty penis flushed deep and leaking milky little spurts every time their flesh smacked together. They were connected completely as Kamski mercilessly pounded Connor into the bed.
"Fuck, Connor! I wanted to ravish you the moment you chose not to shoot Chloe." Kamski practically growls, His arms shaking with the effort of bending Connor in half. He adjusts their position slightly, shifting his arms to brace himself on either side of Connor's face, the android in turn wraps his legs tight around his creator's waist pulling their flesh closer together.
It's remarkable just how responsive Connor is to stimulation, intoxicating even to think that Deviant Hunter, primary cause of the ultimate downfall of the android revolution, would bow so completely and complacently to pleasure. Pearlescent beads of pre cum are milked from Elijah with each thrust, each pull of Connor's delightfully warm walls. Elijah was lost.
"Did you deviate before or after you shot Markus down?" The bastard smirks, eyes dark and haunting as he dips a finger into the sensitive slit of Connor's plump cock, pre cum sticks to his finger as he pulls away just enough to wrap his hand tightly around the android's girth stroking him at a languid pace.
Connor's diagnostic protocol is screeching loudly, his sensors are out of calibration, his LED flashes a vivid blush pink for but a blink of a moment before morphing into its primary electric blue state. Elijah is thrumming with a sense of urgency as he jerks Connor off rapidly, nearly helpless to the sensations the android simply pivots with him and bucks his hips forwards eagerly into Elijah's hand, and back into his thrusts.
"I'm-I'm not ah! A Deviant!" His voice hitches, breathy and weak as he simply takes it. Connor's hips thrust upwards seeking more, but Elijah refuses to comply, he wants to torture Connor just a little more, make him feel every stroke. Every pump and twist of his hips… Connor couldn't keep the small mewls that poured from his mouth. It was too much. Too perfect, and frightening in its own right. Until Elijah's hand wrapped vice around the base of Connor's weeping length.
"The fact that you feel pleasure is enough to prove it, Connor." Kamski's voice wavers, their gazes meet as Connor's lips part with a desperate whine, he doesn't allow it and speaks over Connor before he can voice his discontent. "I've taken you into my home despite my damaged faith in you, you managed to do quite the opposite of my expectations. You showed empathy when you chose to spare Chloe. I know you have human emotions Connor."
"I… I didn't want to be decommissioned…" Connor nearly whispers, it's soft and tapers off into a choked moan when Elijah resumes stroking Connor's synthetic penis. Kamski curses into the crook of Connor's neck and bites harsh against his skin, it gives way and melts beneath his teeth. It's not enough, he bites viciously into Connor's white silicone and suckles marks he wishes would permanently scar. It's a punishment.
Connor lets out a small gasp-moan his face twisting up with pleasure, he bites his supple lower lip and squeezes his beautiful amber orbs shut. He rocks up into Kamski's hand shamelessly. Connor felt the seams of his self-control ripping, the fabric of his very existence shredding into the endless abyss. Elijah could feel the desperate ebb of release pooling deep within the lower half of his spine, and releases Connor's throat with a pop and a broken moan. He was selfish as waves of pleasure crashed against the shores of his mind.
It's Connor that connects their lips. They kiss into oblivion before Connor rips away panting deeply.
"Mmm-AH Elijah! 'M cuming!" Connor nearly screams, his audio processor stops functioning properly for a moment. His LED flashes a bright pink again and Connor's entire body seizes. Pulse after pulse of pleasure sear through his circuits, the pressure built in the base of his stomach explodes. With a deranged and muffled garble of unintelligible half words, Connor shakes violently through his orgasm. Intense waves of heat coil around the pool of his gut causing a spurt of fluid to leak out of his weeping length, he cums for what feels like an eternity, painting their stomach's with his release.
The clenching heat of Connor's insides squeezes bright hot lances of pleasure that pierce through Kamski's entire body. He shakes with such a force his arms give out, he wraps them tightly around Connor as he pumps his release deep inside the synthetic muscles clenched down deliciously onto the head of his engorged penis. His essence pours into the sucking warmth that surrounded him so completely.
They bask in the afterglow for a long while, simply enjoying each other's warmth before Kamski pulls out of Connor and collapses on his side next to the android.
"There is so much I wish to tell you…" Kamski murmurs, running his fingers over the bright pink LED against Connor's temple. "I've never seen an Android's LED this color… Tell me Connor what is it that you want?" His voice is whispered, awestruck and mesmerized by the new development with his unit.
"Everything…" Connor replies, tucking his head in the crook of Elijah's neck, his cheeks are a muted pink, causing his freckles to shine bright against his pale synthetic skin.
Elijah would find out later after running a thorough break down of Connor's coding for maintenance purposes that the anomaly had formed as a result of deviancy.
FIN