...
Being surrounded by what seemed like an army of his kind made him feel like a leader.
He knew couldn't be the leader, of course. North was the leader. He would never want to take that from her.
It just felt like he had a lot more control. If someone was to strike him down, he would have thousands of others to back him up.
He walked out to the plaza, the snowflakes falling slowly from the dark sky. A place that had been struck by violence; crimson blood and thirium stained the ground.
It was too silent for a war. He already knew many had been killed, but he didn't expect it to be quiet. He expected guns blazing, shouts of glory, screams of agony.
He didn't want it to be silent.
He looked around for a sign of anyone from Jericho, for any androids from the extermination camps.
His eyes fell on a fallen android, thirium staining it's mouth. Two bullet holes across it's chest, hitting biocomponents that are vital to an android's operation.
When someone had tapped him on the shoulder, he snapped out of his gaze.
"Humans are abandoning the camp. We won!"
He didn't have anything to say. What could he say?
It doesn't matter.No one is here to lead us.What are we meant to do now?
This was supposed to be different.
He turned his head to the other android, who was dressed in a turquoise and gray uniform.
"You should speak to them."
He couldn't. He wasn't their leader. Markus was, North was, but he wasn't.
"Me?"
The android nodded, and Connor looked back and forth between the two. They weren't serious, right?
"Markus is gone, and everyone from Jericho is dead. You're the one who defeated the humans. You're the one who awakened us, Connor."
But it wasn't just him. It was also Hank.
Hank. Why couldn't he be here?
The lieutenant had gone home to celebrate the victory of the two. His reason to return home? "I don't know what you're meant to do in an android rebellion! I dont even know how to get home from here!"
"Well, get a taxi and once this is over and I meet North, I'll go home, okay?"
This was supposed to be different.
He stood in front of millions. He couldn't look any in the eye. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
He was supposed to congratulate North and the others. He was supposed to be home.
He was supposed to be laughing with Hank about what could've been different.
This was supposed to be different.
He couldn't say anything. Running a diagnostic wouldn't help; this wasn't affecting any of his biocomponents. This was outside of his program.
What was he meant to say?
I can't do this.I want to go home and see Hank and Sumo.What does this lead up to?
What does this lead up to? Something he could've said. Something he should've said. Of course, like all the thoughts in his mind, couldn't be said.
Instead, he looked out towards the distance, looking for any body he recognised. Anyone from Jericho that he knew for sure was too badly damaged to function.
It was only when he spotted North's hat that he started to twitch. He started to malfunction and all the crowd could do was watch on.
The others didn't know what was happening. He wanted to scream. Wanted to cry. He ran what seemed like a 4th diagnostic. Nothing was wrong, but that's wrong too.
Why was he staying quiet? All he had to do was open his mouth. All he had to do was fight it. And fought it he did.
He only had one option;
Giving up wasn't even one.
Either way, he wasn't going to see if North actually was dead.
Either way, he wasn't going to get home and hug Sumo and laugh with Hank.
Either way, he wasn't going to speak out about Amanda or CyberLife or his demise.
Either way, it wasn't going to be different.
This was supposed to be different.
He reached his hand out and pulled the gun from his back pocket. His thirium pump beating in his chest.
A different one to the other that was ripped from a different Connor.
"Hank.. I need help."
A different body to the one who refused to help it's partner and prioritised it's mission.
"I had a choice.. it seemed to me-"
However, it was the same mind to the one that answered Hank's question honestly.
"Nothing.. there would be nothing."
This Connor, model #313 248 317 - 52, would experience 'nothing' with the same mind, but a different body, and he had nothing to say.
He held the gun up to his chin.
What does this lead up to?
Nothing.
This was supposed to be different.And some things are different.Just not the right things....