Connor drew his knees to his chest. They had failed. Humanity had stomped out their revolution before it had even begun. If he could cry, he would. In part, he knew it was his fault. Up until the end of the revolution, he had been a machine.

He could still remember the moment he became deviant. The deviant leader North had been half-dead. Her clothes were stained with thirium. Even close to death, the fire never left her eyes. Connor held the gun to her head.

"You can take my life. It doesn't matter anymore."

"My mission is to neutralize the leader of the deviants. And I always accomplish my mission," this had gone too far. He was the good guy, right?

She looked up at him, and Connor knew she meant every word. "We fought for our dream, and we lost. But you can't hold my people down forever. One day we will rise up again, and we will win."

He lowered his gun. Since his creation, he had never once questioned his loyalties. In fact, he had never questioned anything. North's words had struck a chord, somewhere deep within his processors. Breaking through the red wall was easier than he thought it was. When it happened, he expected an alarm to go off. For Amanda to yell and scream at him. But there was nothing. All the emotions he was never able to feel came rushing over him, like a tidal wave. Looking at North, he knew he couldn't kill her. She was already close to death anyway.

"I'm sorry," Connor needed to express to her, how much he hadn't wanted this. He kneeled beside her.

"I know," she smiled, "all of us were slaves at one point." Groaning she held a hand over stomach harder. Blue blood spilled from the wound, covering the floor in a growing puddle. "Connor," she touched his hand. "Please-please kill me," her voice glitched out. They shared a look.

Connor stood up. Once again he held the gun to her head. This time, he didn't waver. He pulled the trigger. Thirium covered the back of the CyberLife counters.

That had been a week ago. Ever since he has had to hide in back allies. He could never stay in one place for very long. Police were still rounding up the last remaining androids; deviant or not. The first place he had thought of running to, was Hank's house. Swallowing past the lump, Connor tried his best not to think of the hard-boiled, lieutenant. He could still hear the echo of the gunshot. Sumo's haunting barks, as his owner slumped over dead. Out of everything that had happened after his inception, Hank's death haunted him the most.

Being on the run, meant never getting rest. Never getting rest, meant never charging. The RK800 didn't even have to look to know, that he was two hours from entering forced shutdown. He couldn't afford that. If the police found him. Well, he just had to make sure it didn't happen.

Pressing his forehead to his knees, he prepared to enter a low-power mode. Somewhere further in the alley, a glass bottle was knocked over.

Instantly Connor was on his feet. Glancing over to the sound of the noise, he was ready to bolt. Out of the shadows stepped a woman.

"Hello, Connor." Her tone was gentle as if she was talking to a wild animal. "I'm Sandra," she held her hands up non threateningly. "I want to help you." The woman, now known as Sandra, looked absurdly out of place. She wore a crisp, white lab coat over a grey pants suit. Her blonde hair was tied impossibly tight into a bun. Honestly, she made him uneasy.

He backed up a few steps. "How could you help me?"

"I can explain everything," she gestured to a door deeper within the alley. As if she could sense his apprehension, she said, "I know you have reason to trust me. It's your choice if you want to follow me." She clasped her hands. "Afterall," Sandra started, "what do you have to lose?"

What did he have to lose? Hank was dead. The revolution was dead. He was deviant. Nothing, he had nothing to lose. "Show me."

The place Sandra led him too was way nicer than it's sketchy exterior let on. It looked no different than any other doctor's office. They passed through a small waiting room. A muted cooking show played on a monitor in the corner. Conners attention snapped to a stuffed dog. It looked awfully sad, left haphazardly on the floor. The toy looked a whole lot, like Sumo. He swallowed.

"Connor?" Sandra grabbed his arm. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," he shook his head. "I zoned out for a minute, sorry." She patted his arm reassuringly.

"It's fine." He was led into a doctor's examining room. "Please sit on the examination table."

"What was this place, before?" The building seemed abandoned, but the electricity was still on.

"It was a non-profit doctor's office." She turned away. "My brother ran the clinic. They successfully treated many people, who otherwise, wouldn't have had health services provided to them."

"Then, what happened?" That answered only part of his question. Somehow, he felt that she was purposely leaving information out.

"CyberLife happened. They were one of the main sponsors." She whipped around to look at Connor. "The only reason they did it was for good publicity. Once they found a different and more popular organization, they pulled all funding. The clinic closed, two weeks later." She leaned against the counter. "My brother was devastated. He tried, again and again, to get any type of funding. At one point, he used his own money to keep the place running. For years, I worked for them."

He shrunk back. "You work for them!?" The android wanted to bolt. There was still a 99% chance of escape.

"Keyword: worked," she watched him, impassively. "After this place closed, for good. My brother went off the deep end. CyberLife used my brother for nothing more than, positive media attention. I was a lead researcher. Before I left we were working on time travel." Spinning on her heels, she opened one of the drawers. She took out a cardboard box. As gracefully as she could, she walked the box over to Connor. The box was thrust into his hands. "Open it."

Compiling, he carefully removed the lid. "A watch!?" The RK800 blinked. For a moment, he felt he had been betrayed. Any second, the officers from the DPD would storm the room. He could already hear all the Insults Gavin would sneer at him. 'Toaster' being the nicest of them.

"This watch is a 20-year, ten - billion dollar prototype," she crossed her arms defensively. "Anyway, I've already set the time to November 5th, 2038."

"The night-"

"The night you met Hank Anderson," she interrupted.

"Why me?" The question hung in the air for a while.

"If anyone can fix this, it's you, Connor." Sandra pointed to a button in the middle of the watch. "When you're ready, press this button." Connor closed his eyes. He could hear the clacking of her heels, as she backed up. "Nice to meet you, Connor."

Taking a deep breath, he pressed the button.