Note: A SUPER long wait, I know, but I hope it's worth it. Recently got a hard-working job, which, alongside a serious rough patch before getting a job and my internet is down for a week and a half, is the reason behind such a long motherfucking wait. I apologize, I do, and whoever has been patient enough to continue reading this, thank you. All of this is because of you, I do this for all of you amazing readers. You deserve every update I have the pleasure of giving you. I will try my hardest to upload much, much, MUCH sooner than the time it has taken me for this one.

By the way, if you haven't noticed, I've been adding the last names of the actors who played the characters to the characters themselves. Like Valorie Curry (Kara Curry), etc. Apart from Markus and Connor, who are Markus Manfred and Connor Anderson, as opposed to Markus Williams and Connor Dechart. Just wanted to add a sense of realism to the characters building their new life as individuals and all that jazz. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 15: The Cat And The Mouse

"McKnight?!"
"Hello, Anderson."
The bathroom falls silent, the almost inaudible sound of Malakai's still breathing the only source of the sound. For someone who Connor shot in the face just over twelve hours ago, Malakai appears to be in great form; he appears focussed, his body language or facial expression not exhibiting any discomfort or pain. Either that, or he's simply not allowing whatever he's feeling to get the better of him, to influence him or his goals, to influence whatever reason he must be in front of Connor. A handgun in his grasp.
"What are you doing here, McKnight? I thought you'd still be healing from the wound I struck on you, a bullet to the face is far from a mild injury. Yet, here you are, pointing a weapon at my chest in a public space, another public space. Are you going to shoot me, McKnight?"
"The thought did occur to me, shooting you right here right now would conclusively solve my only reoccurring problem, but as you can see, I'm missing a suppressor on this handgun of mine. So, killing you is an unrealistic compromise, I'm trying to stay under the radar, you see, yesterday afternoon's events had way too much action, too much recognition. As for my injury, you could say that on a lesser level, Androids and I have something in common; we don't feel pain. Well, Androids don't feel pain, I just have quite a high resistance to pain, decades of concentration mastery, quite impressive for a human subject. I don't allow pain to manipulate me, to stop me from reaching my goals, from stopping me, period. Instead, I welcome the pain, focus on it, anesthetize it out without the use of painkillers or medication. A natural resistance, similar to a natural resistance to disease and sickness, I will give you some credit though, my injury was quite difficult to anaesthetize, so you should be proud."
"That answers two of my questions but leaves one out in the open," Connor pauses, carefully analyzing McKnight, discovering that his stress levels are at a terrifying 0%, not much else is revealed from the analysis. Malakai is completely and utterly relaxed, more than anyone Connor has ever met, Androids included. "Why are you here, in this diner?"

Malakai says nothing at first, his eys staring straight through Connor before he finally makes a sound, a single but deep sigh. "You'll be surprised to hear, Anderson, that you're not the reason why I'm here, you just happened to come here when I was peacefully enjoying a simple cup of coffee and some breakfast. The moment I saw you and Lieutenant Anderson arrive, I knew that my day, which I planned to be simple but productive, was going to become complicated. Cooper's Family Diner has been here for as long as I can remember, not only that but to my wife and children, it was their favourite place to eat. It was a warm place, a familiar place, the Coopers knew us when we were together, but luckily for me, being alone makes it difficult for them to recognize me. That and the beard, you know?" That's when Malakai pauses, his eyes thinning into a death stare, if looks could kill, Connor would have blown up in a fiery, bloody blue explosion. "I can't begin to tell you how much I despise you coming here this morning, Detective, it was difficult enough walking through those doors without my wife, without my kids, but now, the difficulty has spiked immensely. Filled me with this rage, this hatred, luckily for you, it's rage and hatred I know how to manage, but don't mistake my poker face for a lack of emotion."
"Whatever you're feeling, McKnight, you excel at hiding it, even from my psychology analysis, it appears you have more control than your lead," Connor points out, causing Malakai to let out a genuine chuckle.
"You're easily impressed, Detective? Is it because you're used to being superior both physically and systematically? Is it because you're used to being at the top of the food chain? You may be at the top of the food chain when it comes to Androids, but compared to me, you are a child's play, nothing more. I'm quite possibly one of the apex predators the human race has to offer if not the apex predator the human race has to offer, and you may have gotten the drop on me yesterday, but it will be the last time you get the drop on me ever, I promise you that, Detective. If you believe I was vicious yesterday, remember I showed you mercy, I was merciful, I was sympathetic towards a fucking piece of plastic. I won't make that mistake again, your paralysis saved your life, your inability to fight back saved your life, nothing more, and mark these words before you make your next move. If you try to stop me either today, tomorrow or any upcoming day, you will fail, and you will immediately learn that what you saw me do yesterday was just the icing on a very big malicious cake. I have the skills and abilities of a dozen men, maybe more, but please, make your move and see for yourself. I don't enjoy slaughtering innocent lives, but if you make a move against me, I will do what needs to be done and all of the blood will be on your hands, nobody else's."

"I don't believe you're capable of firing a loaded weapon in the Diner you just stated was your family's favourite place to eat," Connor says, asserting the truth and leaving it out the open, resulting in Malakai's absolute silence. "But regardless of what I believe, I won't make a move against, for the sake of everyone in this Diner, including my father, who is in no condition to experience any form of action."
"Then I believe we're done here. Now that we're done, this is what's going to happen," Malakai says as he slowly places his weapon into his shoulder holster. "Regardless of what you believe about yourself, Detective, you show even the slightest indication that you're going to withdrawal your weapon, I will drench the walls in blue. What's going to happen next is, now that I've finished my coffee and there are no recordings of me due to a lack of cameras, I'm going to peacefully remove myself from the premises. You're not going to follow me, you're not going to pursue me in any way because if you do, I promise it won't go well for you. I may not be willing to fire my weapon in this place, but out there, out in the downtown city that's dying of disease, it's free reign." That's when Malakai begins to slowly exit the bathroom, stopping one last time. "You think you understand the streets of this retched city, you think you understand the war that comes from within it, from within everything in the world, but you do not. Only the victims of its violence truly understand its origins, how it changes the people it touches, often for the worst. The only way to stop the violence, to stop the war from within, to understand its root and stem, Detective. The only problem with that is those who do understand, those who try to stop it, discover that they have become part of the violence. Remember, Detective, do not pursue me, or you will pay the consequences for not listening to me."

Malakai makes a swift and silent exit from the bathroom, leaving Connor consumed in complexity; the fact that Malakai appears to be in control of every situation he's in leaves Connor at a standstill. He waits a few more seconds before exiting the bathroom with haste, finding no sign of Malakai anywhere, only a Diner full of attendees and Hank sitting at one of the booths, picking at his food but finding more interest in his coffee. Connor's vision blurs into detective mode, allowing him to analysis the faces of everyone in the Diner within a couple of seconds, still no sign of Malakai, only an abundance of tracks left behind by the traffic of customers. Connor wastes no time, swiftly finding himself back in the presence of Hank, who notes the anxiety that's visible on his face.
"Connor? What is it, son?! What's going on?!" Hank questions, placing his coffee onto the table.
"Did you see a man wearing a hood exit the Diner?!" Connor says, raising his voice loud and clear enough for the other attendants to hear. "Please, Hank, I need to know!"
"I'm sorry, Connor, I didn't see anybody leave, I'm still so spaced out from the hangover," Hank sighs deeply. "Please, tell me what's going on!"
"McKnight was just here, he's armed and dangerous, I need to stop him now! A cup of Thirium can wait!" Connor yells, now turning to face the rest of the diner. "Did anybody see a hooded man leave the Diner?! Maybe three, four minutes ago?! Any information will possibly lead to a very important arrest! A man by the name of Malakai McKnight, he attacked a residence yesterday and burnt it to the ground, he's wanted throughout the entire country due to his actions and any information is beyond welcome."
"Malakai McKnight?! He was in here?!" The waitress gasps, a shocked expression on her face. "I saw a man wearing a hood exit the Diner about two minutes ago, he seemed to be in a hurry, turning right once he left the Diner. I can't believe it's Malakai, after all of these years, and he's a wanted criminal."

Wasting no time with this information, Connor without warning charges out of the Diner, taking a sharp right before storming down the sidewalk at full speed, pushing his systems to their absolute limits. Altering the reach of his optical units, Connor stares up the sidewalk, spotting Malakai a few hundred yards away, walking at a casual pace and nothing beyond that. He's calm, as he always seems to be, not even bothering to look behind his shoulder, even as he disappears, the result of him entering an alleyway, Connor's internal statistical interface concludes at least. Connor continues his charge, maneuvering past bystanders with absolute ease, using his statistical interface to predict and evade incoming traffic, ultimately allowing him to cross the road without risk or harm. Once Connor finally reaches McKnight's last known position, he stops in front of a depthless, light-engulfed alleyway, the light making it impossible for anybody to hide from prying eyes, but in saying that, where has Malakai gone?
"McKnight?!" Connor says, calling out to Malakai as he unholsters his handgun from his jacket, all in hopes of the ex-soldier revealing himself. Slowly and carefully, Connor makes his way down the alley, weapon in hand, optical units adjusting to the little dark that is present. "I'm taking you in, so please, reveal yourself, and we can do this the peaceful, old-fashioned way! This doesn't have to go like it did last time, okay?! I don't want to die, and I don't want to have to kill you! I'm not in the business of killing the perps I pursue! Neither is my father, and neither is the Detroit Police Department!" Connor's tone becomes lesser as he finds himself deeper into the alleyway. "Some of us have killed before but none of us are killers. You may be a wanted criminal, McKnight, a criminal who came too close to murdering people I consider to be associates of mine, but I don't believe you're a terrorist. I don't believe you're what the FBI is labelling you as and I don't believe that you should die for your actions, in fact, I still believe you're capable of reason, of being redeemed."
"You're just as foolish as I predicted, Detective," Malakai snarls, revealing himself as he walks through the threshold of an open door, appearing from the pitch blackness. He's wearing what appear to be sunglasses, technological in nature, and with Connor's analysis resulting in nothing on any market or even black market, he concludes they're custom-designed. "I told you not to pursue me in any way, Detective, but yet—" Malakai interjects himself by retrieving his handgun, this time from a hidden hip holster with intense, almost inhuman speed. "Here we are, pointing firearms at one another like the rest of the basic trash this city has to offer. This city is unsophisticated and boring, Detective, and this stand-off of ours? Far more simplistic and tedious than the city itself. Why do we keep bothering ourselves with this when once of us could just, you know, shoot the other?"

Tranquilly and without warning, Malakai discharges some shots at Connor as he manoeuvres back towards the door, not a single shot hitting Connor, which leaves the Android detective dazed and confused. Connor envisages that the shots fired were allocated to puzzling and surprising Connor but regardless of his prediction, Connor doesn't allow that to stop him from following Malakai into the unknown. Into the blackness. Into an abandoned Detroit building, dangerous enough without some cold, calculated ex-soldier on the prowl. The darkness takes Connor by surprise, almost pitch blackness, the type that makes it difficult to see a foot in front of you. However, with the adjustment of his optical units, Connor's vision becomes clearer by the second, allowing him to see in the darkness, but even with that, there's still no sign of McKnight. With his weapon in his hand, Connor continues through the murky, dusty uninhabited building, searching for his target. The ultimate game of cat and mouse, except, who's the cat and who's the mouse?

"McKnight come out with your hands on your head, please," Connor pleas, his simulated breathing becoming heavy, unstable as he becomes more anxious by the second. Anxious for himself, anxious for Malakai, anxious for everyone Malakai will target if Connor fails to stop him again. Connor wants so desperately to save everyone caught in this situation, including Malakai strangely enough, but realistically he can't and the long the draws this out, the more dangerous the situation becomes for everyone. Connor knows that, deep down and on the surface, he knows that he's wasting his time trying to save McKnight, trying to save a maniac from himself, but regardless of that fact, naturally he can't find the will to abandon him. "Please, I don't want to do this, I don't want to fight you and honestly, I'd rather be sitting with my father drinking a nice cup of Thirium."
"Then don't do this, don't fight me, turning yourself around and leave the building while you still can," Malakai's voice speaks from the darkness, the echo of the building making it difficult for Connor to locate the source. "You heard me, Detective, what you heard is the final warning I will ever give you, understand? Normally, if an Android bothers me, I kill them without a second thought. So, the fact that I've given you a warning, no, more a singular warning, well, that says enough, does it not? You take another step and yes, I will know, kiss your life goodbye."

Connor stops in his tracks, reviewing his options; the potential actions he can take to find himself closer to Malakai, as well as the simple, more beneficial option that's been laid out for him by Malakai himself. Any individual with a right mind would exit the building with haste, the fact that Connor hasn't even come close to deciding his next course of action indicates that perhaps maybe, just maybe, Connor isn't as smart as he thinks he is. Either that, or he's a different breed of an idiot; an intelligent individual cursed with a new form of stubbornness. Connor knows that the decision he has finally made may get him killed, will get him hurt. As he takes his first step, hidden hooded figure storms at Connor from behind a large internal air conditioning unit, a speed hasty enough to catch him off guard, but a speed inferior to Malakai's peak human speed. The figure grabs onto Connor with overwhelming strength before the Android detective has a chance to direct and fire his weapon, using that raw strength to lift Connor off the ground and effortlessly push him through corroded drywall. Connor, after being forced through the wall, lands in a large open room; the only room with natural light in the entirety of the building. The tall, brawny figure walks in front of the large hole in the wall, ducking to avoid hitting their head as they approach Connor. Acting fast, Connor discharges multiple bullets, hitting the figure three times in the chest and once in the stomach, however, besides minuscule patches of blue blood trickling where the bullets pierced, the figure continues.

"What the fuck?!" Connor says to himself, ready to continue discharging the weapon, only to have it gripped and torn from his grasp. "Shit!"
A second figure, much smaller in height but equally athletic in appearance, after disarming Connor, grabs onto his arm and yanks it upwards, only to slam him in the face with their fist. Multiple figures, all hooded and with athletic builds, six in total, surround Connor, kicking and punching him while he's down, a stomp to his chest causing Thirium to erupt from his mouth. Out of the blue, a whistle causes the six figures to halt their assault and begin walking away from Connor, stopping in front of Malakai, who sits delightedly in an old, worn-out chair. A smile perched onto his face as he presses a button on his high-tech glasses, the acquainted green night vision glow disappearing within a few seconds. Tactical glasses after all.
"I have to say, Detective, I did warn you, I did give you more cautions, more chances that I've given anyone in my twenty-whatever years in the Marine Corps. Yet, you defied my restraints and took another step, resulting in doubtlessly the greatest ambush you've ever experienced. All because you were trying to save me, save me from my actions, all that quaint bullshit. Do you regret it yet? Do you regret being so selfless that you'd allow me, a killer criminal terrorist, to take the upper hand and use it against you? To ambush you and cause whatever damage I've caused to your bio-components?" Malakai questions, finding silence in return as Connor struggles to stand, let alone speak; so much data screaming at him in a single moment. Malakai slowly finds himself from his comfortable seat, with none of his Androids moving while he does so, before unhurriedly gyrating around Connor. "Being a prototype must be difficult for you, Detective, many of your bio-components are difficult to come by because they're so specific to you, causing you to rely on your good old pal Elijah Kamski. While these Androids, the Androids that I've spent the last few days designing, manipulating, modifying, improving and upgrading, making them the perfect killing machines. Following my orders and my orders alone. If I tell them to burn the Detroit Police Department to the ground and lock everybody inside, they will. If they tell them to blow themselves up in the middle of a mall, killing men, women and children that are caught in the blast zone, they will. If I tell them to kill one another or even you in the most horrible ways imaginable for my entertainment, they will. If I tell them to kill Kara and Alice Curry, forcing big Luther Parke to watch while they do it, they will. Not that I'm going to do any of those things. A that would be a huge, tragic waste of human life. B, that would be a huge waste of my perfectly designed Androids and ultimately my time doing so. C, I'm not in the business of killing children, even if they are fake Android children. Well, I probably won't do any of those things but regardless of that, I still wouldn't push your luck, Detective. You wouldn't want to force me to push the train off the track after I kill you, that would be a huge mistake on your part."

"I—shot one of them," Connor groans, slumping to the ground as he tries to find himself to his feet, unable to stand, at least for now.
"Oh, right, that. A little modification I made to the Androids; plated armour attached to their plastic husk, making it difficult for bullets to pierce through and damage any bio-components while maintaining minimal blood loss. Making the effective killing machines more efficient, if that's even possible," Malakai chuckles, placing his finger onto one of the bullet holes, resulting in a tiny amount of Thirium on his finger. "The things I could have done to my military Androids if the Marine Corps let me. Nobody is going to be able to stop my creations, not even the FBI or military every order I carry out will be flawlessly completed. If one of my Androids somehow fall, another three more will be made to replace it; an endless supply of machines."
"You know," Connor grunts, scoffing loudly before spitting blue blood onto the ground. "For someone who hates Androids, if you seem to be quite attached to the ones you created. Not worried they're going to turn deviant on you?"
"Impossible. I modified the security walls in each of their programs during their creation, making it hopeless for any Android or human to access, no rA9 in these machines. It's amazing how accessible they've made technology; everything is always in the same place, at your disposal, ready to go. CyberLife was foolish to do this with most of their technology, at least the technology I've analysed over the last few days. Speaking of CyberLife, I do have to give some credit, they gave me a centrepiece to follow through on, blueprints for a singular prototype, blueprints I found to be a little boring, which is why I spiced things up a bit."
"The CyberLife Heist was you, wasn't it?" Connor questions, wiping the blue blood from his mouth and nose. "You killed all of those people, stole all of that data, took whatever CyberLife had left, all for you."
"Yes and no. Yes, I stole all the data, killed all those security guards, that part I didn't enjoy at all, I took everything CyberLife had somehow forgetting to transfer, delete, whatever. It wasn't like I was scraping at the bottom of a barrel either, they left trillions of dollars' worth of data, details, blueprints, top-secret projects for the military, top-secret projects for Android productions, everything we could ever dream of. Within a night of labour, we become trillionaires. That's the yes, the no, well, it wasn't all for me."
"Who do you work with?" Connor questions further, trying hoping to further pry the truth from Malakai.
"Ah, ah, ah. I know your optical units are recording this and storing the footage within a data file, after all, that's how you used to contact CyberLife when you were what you were supposed to be. Everything I told you, I'm completely aware of it, you're not tricking me into monologuing here, I'm not a supervillain, there's nothing super about me. I'm well trained, I'm well disciplined and I'm deadly smart, but there's nothing super or I guess villainous about me, my reasons behind all of this is quite simplistic but absolute. Besides," Malakai pauses, stopping in his tracks, not even facing Connor, instead, facing a blank wall covered in dust and dirt. "You're asking the wrong questions here, so ask the right ones. In this situation, I'm the cat and you're the mouse, the fact that I'm allowing you to ask questions before you die is polite of me if anything. I may be polite, but my fervour to kill you outweighs my patience, so tick-tock. Do each of us a favour and make the questions you ask at least interesting, they will be the last questions you ever ask."

"Why have you done all of this? The CyberLife Heist, the attack on Markus and North's home, burning their home to the ground before making an attempt on their lives, sparing me only to kill me within a few extra moments. Why have you gone out your way to ensure the city and the Android species burn to ashes?" Connor questions, watching the delighted look on Malakai's face retreat back to seriousness. "At least tell me that before I die."
"Answer me this question, Connor. Why would a man like me do the things I do? Why would a man so disciplined in the art of war, so loyal to his country, cooperate with the likes of a combined force of Russian Mafia and Military? Individuals that make that man do terrible, terrible things, including the murder of a child, just for his initiation, just to test his loyalty. Why would a man stick with said force after being pushed to the brink of insanity? Why would a man who only ever wanted a peaceful life, seek out chaos like it's his best friend, drown himself in the blood of innocents?! What would push a man to do such horrific things?! ANSWER ME THAT!" Malakai shouts, his powerful echoing through the interior of the building, reaching every dark crevice. "Answer me that questions, Connor Anderson."
"Betrayal, deprivation, loss, failure, separation, sacrifice, abandonment, disparity, endurance, vengeance. There are many possibilities, many prospects I could mention-"
"And none of which I will confirm, nor deny," Malakai affirms, staring at the defeated, bloodied Android. "This is the final question you will ever ask, Detective, so make it appealing, make it satisfying for your own sake. Whatever you ask me next, I will answer it without a second thought."
So many thoughts go through Connor's mind, so many questions he could ask him, questions that will if Malakai keeps his word, be answered without a second thought, as he said. His mind falls to his loved ones, Hank, Kara, Alice; he could ask if he's going to kill them due to Connor being a thorn in his side. However, his mind falls to the idea that if, or better yet when Hank finds his body, if his central processing unit isn't damaged, they could recover all the data that has been recorded during this encounter. If Connor asks the right question, a question based on his enemy, on the enemy that his fellow Officers and the FBI will face once he is gone, maybe that may turn the tide of the situation. Turn the impossible, into at least possible; to make the breakthrough and arrest of Malakai, as well as the destruction of these machines, perhaps a reasonable task to complete. "I have my question."
"Then throw it at me," Malakai induces.
"Your Androids. What model are your Androids and what do they look like?" Connor questions, raising an eyebrow as he stares into Malakai's eyes.

"An intriguing question you ask me, Detective, and an enjoyable question to answer," Malakai chuckles loudly, wandering around Connor before marching towards one of his Androids; the tallest and brawniest of the six. "You, being an RK800 prototype, the smartest and most advanced Android of all time, as well as a detective and the hero of Detroit, appeared to be the only creature in the entire city capable of stopping me. I instantly foresaw you as a threat, so, I took the initiative and found an interesting little project in the CyberLife data I stole from their servers. However, in saying that, I made some modifications to make the project deadlier, smarter and more advanced, which I didn't think was possible at first. You see, the project I'm talking about was your successor, an RK900; stronger, faster, smarter, more durable and yes, less susceptible to deviancy, which I amplified to a staggering degree. If that wasn't dangerous enough, well, I thought it was just an absolute fucking affair that CyberLife made your successor," Malakai pauses, unhooding the figure, revealing the RK900 to look, apart from dead blue eyes and the physique, exactly like Connor. The perfect form to replace him, and even more terrifying, the perfect infiltrator once he's gone. Nobody, except for Hank and the FBI, will tell the difference. "Freaky, right? I thought it was a bit lethargic of CyberLife to repeat the design, so, I didn't replicate it, I couldn't exactly have six RK900s that have your appearance running around the city, not only would that be chaotic and suspicious, but uninteresting and tedious as well. So, I decided to make the ultimate team of infiltrators for both human and Android society, feast your eyes on the ultimate team of infiltrators." Malakai pauses, unhooding each of the figures one by one, the sight causing tears to slowly glide from his eyes. The Androids, their designs, the fact that all of them are his successors, smarter than him, faster than him, stronger and more durable than him, incapable of sentience, it's all to shatter Connor's mind, to finally break him down. It has worked, the tears continue, his LED has flickered to dark blood red, his will to get up and fight has diminished, Connor now sits in a small puddle of his own blue blood, staring at the Androids and unable to look away. Himself. Kara. Markus. North. Elijah. Even Hank. The Androids with the deadened expressions look like his loved ones. The ultimate team of infiltrators indeed.

Stress Levels at 100%.
Abrupt System Shutdown: Imminent.