Having recovered from his bout of the android-flu without any further complications Connor returned to his brownstone to shower off for the sake of feeling clean after being sick and miserable for three days, get some clean clothes to wear, and to ensure no one attempted to tamper with his residence during his prolonged absence. Satisfied that no one had tried to break-in or search through any of his private files Connor double-checked his hidden display board behind the bookcase and was relieved that all of his clues and connections revolving around the night of his shooting hadn't been tampered with. Unable to shake the feeling of paranoia, the sensation of being watched or even studied, was as prominent as it had been when he was still a machine working for CyberLife and it kept Connor's guard up at all times.

Staring at the display board for a moment longer Connor tilted his head to the right and made sure he had a back-up of all of the details secured in the event of a catastrophic failure or potential break-in. With the back-up taken care of Connor cybernetically called Hank and let him know that he was ready to begin his search for Killian the moment Hank was out of work.

'All right, I'll meet up with ya' a little after six this evening.' Hank responded to the call with his usual sense of purpose behind his words. The senior detective was still working solo at the precinct until he either had a new partner or Connor chose to return. 'It's been a slow day, so I shouldn't be too long.'

"Thank you for help. I'm going to speak with Dr. Grayson at the Zeta Facility to ask about Killian." Hiding the display board behind his bookcase again Connor walked over to the peephole of his front door and had a moment of intrigue flash through his mind. Rolling up his left sleeve Connor retracted the artificial skin from his forearm and opened up the plastimetal panel to secure one of the special sensors from his own body to the peephole to act as a practically invisible motion tracker. "I'll be sure to keep my brownstone locked up just in case someone tries to nose around in our business."

'Do what you gotta' do to feel secure, kid. I know you're just being cautious.'

"Correct. I'll start with Dr. Grayson and look for other potential witnesses elsewhere." Connor closed up his arm and grabbed his trench coat hanging on the hook by the front door and slipped it on over his usual white button down dress shirt, gray vest and black tie. Placing the fedora over his hair Connor pulled it low to keep his L.E.D. hidden to ensure he could keep a low profile at all times. "She was very likely the last person to see him before he apparently vanished."

'Sounds good to me. Keep me in the loop and I'll see you soon.'

"Right."

'By the way, that obituary you wrote has been published in the newspaper.' The senior detective had been monitoring the obituaries at the precinct very closely until he finally saw the familiar name make its appearance that morning. 'I saw it copied in Novi and Grand Rapids newspapers, too.'

Cybernetically Connor checked with the current news and scrolled through the obituaries. Noting the piece he had carefully written about his human counterpart printed out in full detail gave Connor relief knowing that the human who inspired his very creation would in fact be remembered by other people, too. "I've found it. I'm glad you told me to do that for him."

'No problem, kid. We'll pick up a newspaper and keep a copy of it so it's never forgotten.'

"That's a good idea, too."

'All right. You go begin your search and I'll meet up with ya' in a couple of hours, okay?'

"Okay. I'm on way there now. I'll see you this evening."

Ending the call Connor stepped out his brownstone and made sure the door was locked tight behind him. Walking down the sidewalk toward the facility at the far end of the block Connor wondered if having a facility so close to his residence was a perk or an ominous reminder of android mortality. The facility itself wasn't too hectic despite being the biggest facility in the city, but that didn't mean Dr. Grayson wasn't busy all the same.

Stepping through the glass sliding automatic doors of the facility Connor glanced at Barry behind the receptionist desk and remembered that Barry and the rest of the 'Jerry' models were notorious gossips. Unsure if he should talk to Barry or not Connor chose to simply ask about Dr. Grayson first and then if necessary talk to Barry second.

"Excuse me." Standing before the receptionist desk Connor spoke to Barry in a low voice the moment the helpful deviant acknowledged his presence. "Is Dr. Grayson working today?"

"Yes, Abby is currently with a patient." Barry confirmed with his unbreakable smile on his face. "Would you like me to page her for you?"

"Please do not disturb her. Just let her know that I am in the waiting room and would like to speak to her at her earliest convenience."

"Of course. I'll let her know you're here, Connor."

"Thank you."

Turning around Connor presented his back to the receptionist desk and noticed that there were four other deviants sitting in the chairs placed in two neat rows in the center of the waiting room, and no one sitting at either row of chairs pressed to the far walls. Choosing to sit down and away from the other deviants at the nearest of the two walls Connor closed his eyes and set about attempting to cybernetically contact Killian only to be met with more interference and no response from the potentially missing 'RK-900'.

"Damn."

Whispering his frustration to avoid alarming the other deviants awaiting technical assistance Connor crossed his arms over his chest and sank down in his chair to continue his attempt to reach the deviant no matter how long it took. Unable to explain why he was so fixated on finding Killian, his own case regarding the person who tried to kill him, and even Anne's cryptic threat were somehow less important to Connor. For whatever reason Connor felt it in his heart that finding Killian was far more important than anything else happening in the city as of the moment.

"Where are you, Killian? I just want to know that you're safe."

The bullpen in the Central Police Department was business as usual. While Hank sat at his desk waiting for his shift to end he watched Gavin catching up on the work he missed out on during his mandatory time off, and decided that he missed Chris already. Everyone was slowly recovering after their hectic case loads from the past few weeks but Tina remained chipper as ever and Ben never let his stress show on his face. The fact that Captain Fowler was helping out during Chris's turn for mandatory time off instead of holding himself up inside his private office was undeniably a contributing factor, but Hank still wished he had a partner to help him carry the burden of leading the only deviant division in the city on top of being the lead investigator in the homicide division.

Checking his phone sitting on his desk beside his right hand Hank saw no further messages from Connor, but he did have a delivery confirmation notice waiting for him. The delivery drone had dropped off his ordered packages at the backdoor of the house as requested just five minutes prior.

"Fuck, great timing..."

Pushing his phone aside Hank tried to focus on his reports on his terminal screen so he could clock-out right on time. It was hard to not get distracted when he was thinking about so many different things at once.

"I have to swing by the house to make sure that stuff doesn't get stolen."

Checking on the other packages that had to be delivered despite not wanting to look at his phone anymore, Hank shook his head and let out a tired sigh.

"That shit couldn't show up on my day off, huh? That'd be too damn easy."

Slipping his phone inside his top right desk drawer out of sight in order to focus on his report Hank reminded himself that working with Connor to find Killian was more important than any packages he ordered. His sudden urge to refill Cole's old bedroom wasn't a critical issue, it was merely something he had been needing to do for some time now before he could finally move on from his painful past enough to have a more enjoyable future.

It took everything Hank had to finally place the order for new, albeit temporary, furniture and other items to make the room more comfortable. While he took care of Connor for the past three days between working his normal shifts at the precinct Hank realized how much more convenient and comfortable it'd be for Connor, or anyone else for that matter, who needed to stay with Hank to have a private room all to themself. The livingroom wasn't good enough.

After all, Connor spent nearly a week sleeping on Hank's couch after being injured and then ill with the android-flu. A bed of any kind would have to be far more comfortable than an old broken down couch for anyone, human or deviant, to sleep on for so long.

"One thing at a time. First we figure out what's going on with Killian, then I'll handle the damn mail."

Waiting only a half hour Connor was met by Dr. Grayson in the waiting room and shown to the breakroom just down the isolated corridor to speak in private. Explaining how he was seeking out Killian and was becoming concerned by the lack of communication and hadn't seen him for quite some time, Connor politely asked for Dr. Grayson's help in locating the increasingly aloof and distant 'RK-900' deviant as soon as possible. It wasn't a secret that Killian had been hiding out at the facility and staying in a private recovery room to have some form of shelter while also isolating from other deviants. Since Dr. Grayson was the technician who took Killian on her patient and let him stay in the facility it made sense that she might know where he went or why he wasn't responding.

Thinking of the last time she had seen Killian before he seemingly vanished Dr. Grayson checked through her patient charts to confirm the very last time she had spoken with Killian or updated his personal file. The time frame was small but seemed massive all the same considering he hadn't been seen by anyone for several days.

"Okay... So the last time I saw Killian was a six days ago." Dr. Grayson confirmed as she let Connor see the date on the chart for himself. "He was keeping to himself as usual and doing his best to disappear within himself."

"Six days." Noting the details Connor sought confirmation from Dr. Grayson about Killian's behavior. "Is this unusual?"

"For him, no. He's spent at most half of a day away from the facility ever since he started staying here."

"Is there a reason you didn't report this?"

"Killian was admitted here under his own freewill, not because it was mandated by the city or because he was a dangerous to himself or others. I had no legal reason to keep him here, report his disappearance or even ask about it."

"Yes, of course." Feeling as if he crossed a line Connor made it clear he meant no disrespect. "I apologize if my question came off as rude or accusatory, Dr. Grayson."

"It's okay. Just call me 'Abby', by the way." Taking back the chart the kind and patient technician let out a soft sigh as she and Connor sat at the small round table in the center of the breakroom. "I'm not sure where Killian would go when he would leave the facility, but he always seemed to be on a mission when he'd leave. It's like he had a plan of action but never quite succeeded in carrying it out."

Such a description made Connor's brow arch with confusion and intrigue. "How so?"

"The few times I could see him when he slipped out the doors his eyes were so focused and full of energy it was like he finally found a reason to live his life. Then he'd come back here and look so disappointed. It was like he failed somehow and he never talked about what he did."

"Interesting." Seeking more answers Connor's soulful brown eyes narrowed as an important question popped in his head. "Was Killian being affected by any type of physical damage that would've compromised his cybernetic connections with other deviants?"

"No, he was completely healthy. He never returned damaged or in pain, and whenever I gave him a mandatory daily examination during his stay he showed no sign of previous injuries to his person."

"What of any visitors? Did anyone come here to see him?"

"None. It was me who went to see him every day. I tried to get him to speak to another former patient named Dylan, but it didn't work out."

"Why that patient in particular?"

"Because that patient had a seizure and Killian helped me take care of him and saved his life." Abby sounded genuinely proud as she spoke. "I thought if he could talk to Dylan after he recovered Killian would realize he wasn't dangerous after all, but Killian just refused to talk anyone. No one but me ever went into his room and I didn't see anyone near his door who wasn't staff."

"What about her? Have you seen this deviant in the area at all?" Holding up his right palm Connor created a holographic image of Anne with her blonde hair pulled up and her hair running down her back to ensure she could be recognized. The piercing green of her eyes would be unmistakable for anyone who would see her and make her very easy to identify. "She calls herself 'Anne' and had been stalking my brownstone as of late."

"I haven't see her." Abby confirmed as she took a good look at Anne and then used her electronic chart to upload a copy of the image for the other technicians and facility staff to see in case she did show up. "Can I ask why she's stalking you?"

"I'm not sure. She was the one who witnessed Killian kicking down-" Closing his eyes for a moment Connor sighed and gave Abby a somber stare. "She knows what Killian tried to do to me and of the virus he nearly unleashed. She also made a veiled threat revolving around him."

"And you think this Anne deviant either did something to him or at least knows where he is, right?"

"That's right." Closing his right fingers around the image Connor caused it to fade away from sight. "It's crucial that if you see Anne or Killian that you contact me immediately. I fear Killian may in fact be in danger."

"You have my word that if I see either of them I'll call you right away. I have permission to use your personal number, right?"

"Yes. Either call me or call Lieutenant Hank Anderson at the Central Police Department. I trust Hank with my life and I know he'd do everything possible to help Killian."

"Okay. I'll make sure everyone on staff knows to keep a look out for these two."

"Thank you." Standing up from the chair beside the table Connor adjusted his fedora over his hair and made his way toward the door. "Please understand that I don't think of Killian as a danger, he's simply lost and needs guidance."

"I know. He doesn't frighten me in the slightest."

Appreciative of Abby's open-mindedness and understanding Connor passed through the doorway of the breakroom and received a text message from Hank confirming that he was outside the facility if he needed a ride. Letting Hank know he was on his way out of the facility in a moment, Connor walked down the corridor toward the private room that Killian had been living in and unlocked the door to scan the room.

There was no sign of a struggle or a break-in throughout the immaculately kept room. The only hand or fingerprints he could see belonged to the human technicians all on file at the facility, and the shoe prints of Killian and the staff walking about the room. Isolating Killian's shoe prints on the linoleum floor, it was easy to isolate the new sneakers from the more worn out tread of the athletic shoes that the staff wore, Connor followed the fading trail back into the corridor and sighed. The cleaning crew mopped up the shoe prints several days prior.

"Damn. Maybe I can find more prints outside."

As he walked back down the corridor and toward the front doors Connor glanced back down at his right palm as he brought up Anne's image again. Seeing her face made a nauseated knot tighten in his stomach.

The enigmatic blonde deviant had been apparently studying Connor since his very first solo case and he had no idea why. It was as if she had been expecting to recruit him to some unspoken and unseen organization, but his outright refusal to cooperate with her had resulted in an unexpected change in her plans. Sensing another storm brewing on the horizon Connor brought his hat down a little further to ensure his L.E.D. was hidden and his existence as a deviant was kept a little more secretive.

Stepping out in the facility's parking lot Connor spotted Hank idling in the Oldsmobile just a few yards away and made a beeline for the vehicle. Pulling open the passenger side door Connor sat down beside his friend and fastened his seatbelt. "Dr. Grayson hasn't seen Killian for the past six days."

"Shit, that's not good." Shifting the car from park to drive Hank pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. "Where do you want to start?"

"We need to try to trace Killian's steps and try to understand what type of mindset he was in at the time of his disappearance."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Killian was- IS," refusing to think of Killian in the past tense Connor corrected himself very quickly. "very depressed. He still feels guilty for what he did as a machine and I know that many deviants who struggle with what they did as a machine tend to go into hiding to isolate themselves from other deviants. Many of those who manage to successfully disappear are often found after they've... self destructed."

"Self destructed." Hank parroted in a low voice as he drove down the street toward the brownstone. He knew that feeling to just 'end it all and not care about anything anymore' all too well. "Shit. Humans and deviants really are more alike than we could ever admit." Coming to a stop in the drive next to Connor's brownstone Hank looked to the deviant beside him and gave him a subtle nod. "All right, where do we pick up Killian's trail?"

"I've learned that he'd leave the facility for approximately half of a day at a time. Someone like Killian would be able to cover a lot of ground on foot, even more so if he were to use autonomous cabs or the train." Staring at his front door Connor knew the sensor would continue to monitor and record anyone who approached his door during his absence. "We still don't know how even left Detroit and ended up in Chicago. It'll be very difficult to track him."

"Difficult but not impossible. You'll find him."

"I hope you're right."

"Why don't we do this the old school way?" Shifting the car back into park Hank turned off the engine and removed his seatbelt. "We'll ask around the stores and restaurants all down the street and ask if anyone there has seen Killian. Someone like him should stand out these days."

"Good plan. I'll handle one side of the street and you take the other."

"And we'll meet up at the facility when we finish, check inside to make sure Killian didn't come back," planning everything out as he and Connor stepped out of the vehicle Hank was certain they'd find Killian soon enough. "and go from there."

Standing in the backroom of the auction house Markus stayed with Carl to keep the elderly artist and father figure company while David prepared Carl's evening medication. Despite Carl being an active and vibrant old man his failing health was undeniable. The heart attack he suffered and survived back in November had done significant damage to his entire body and sapped what little strength he had left from him during his recovery period after the incident. Even with both David and Markus taking care of him Carl knew his time in the world was running out, and in turn the elderly artist was inspired to auction off as much of his work as possible to ensure his family and beloved charities had plenty of support after his death.

Unable to hide his fear of Carl's inevitable passing Markus kept his eyes fixated on the finished art pieces that were going to be auctioned off one at a time and remembered watching Carl painting each and every one for hours upon hours at a time. Each brushstroke was placed with purpose and perfection, the images vivid in color and there were details that only Carl knew the true meaning behind despite Markus observing the works in progress. Carl's style was truly unique and there would never be another artist who would be able emulate his style with a truly organic touch.

"Come sit with me, Markus." Carl called out to the deviant to break his mismatched eyes away from the painted canvases for a moment. The way Markus had been so quiet and intentionally seeking something to distract his thoughts told Carl that his deviant son was struggling with his emotions. "You need to learn to relax every once in a while."

"I'm trying to remember that." Joining Carl by the large buffet being paid for by the city and tended to by overpriced caterers Markus sat down in the seat beside his father and let out an exasperated sigh. "It's not easy."

"Nothing worth having ever is. What's on your mind, son?"

"It's just... I've been trying to talk to Connor." Admitting what was weighing on his thoughts Markus told Carl the truth. "Every time I go to his brownstone he isn't there."

"Don't take it personally. He's probably busy."

"Or he's avoiding me."

"Don't assume the worst, it'll only stress you out."

"I'll try to remember that, too."

"If he's not at his place he's out living his life, working, socializing..." Dropping very obvious hints Carl encouraged Markus to live his own life without fear or uncertainty of his actions. "Maybe you should try to do the same."

"I will after I've talked to Connor and let him know how much I regret what I did to him, and beg him for his forgiveness."

"Beg, huh?"

"I tried to kill him, Carl. There's no gesture that would be more appropriate." Sitting back in his chair Markus watched as David administered the correct medication into Carl's right arm through a syringe and promptly went over to the buffet to prepare a diet-appropriate plate of food for Carl to eat. "There's very little I can do to make amends to someone over something like attempted murder."

"Reflect with me for a moment. Think back to that night." Folding his hands neatly atop his lap Carl spoke with Markus as a father would for his son. "Why did you point your gun at him and pull the trigger?"

"Carl, you know the story. You know what I did and why I did it."

"You did it to protect your people, right?"

"That's right." Watching as David presented Carl with a plate of low sodium, low cholesterol finger-foods Markus thought back to that fateful night and retraced the steps he took before making that final decision. "Connor was the infamous 'Deviant Hunter' and had been programmed to hunt our people. He found Jericho and the F.B.I. used his tracker from being an obedient machine to find him and subsequently find Jericho."

"Okay, and what happened after that?" Picking up a small cheese cube on a toothpick Carl took a bite and lamented that it was vegan cheese instead of the authentic kind. He missed eating organic food with all the seasonings and none of the diet. "You said he confronted you, you woke him up and then he helped saved lives on Jericho - including yours and North's lives."

"That's right. We reconvened at the abandoned church, I spoke with my allies while Connor apologized to another deviant - the same one I told would be safe on Jericho instead of letting her go, and then I spoke to Connor directly." Lamenting his past decisions Markus's voice dipped to a shameful whisper. "Then I pulled the trigger."

"What did Connor say?"

"Huh?"

"You can't have a conversation unless two people participate. I don't think you just walked up to him and pulled the trigger like that."

"No, I approached him but he spoke first." Replaying those events Markus felt his blood run cold with guilt. "He said... He apologized for accidentally leading the F.B.I. to Jericho and that he... Connor understood if I would choose to not trust him."

"So he was aware that he made a mistake and was in the act of atoning for it."

"Yeah... Instead of exiling him I chose to execute him." Dropping his head into his hands Markus's shoulders slumped and his back tensed up. "I may be the leader of my people but I'm not a god! I don't have the right to select who gets to live and who gets to die, no one has that power."

"If Connor can atone for his mistakes," Carl continued on calmly as he played with his unappetizing food on his plate with disinterest. "then why can't you? You're acting as if you alone are beyond forgiveness. He was the 'Deviant Hunter', right? That means he's hurt other deviants, riiiiight?"

Lifting up his head Markus turned to look at Carl again and replied with a breathy sigh. "No. He had a reputation but he never actually hurt anyone."

"Oh? What did he do to earn such a reputation?"

"Two months before everything happened with the Raid and the Revolution we can confirm that Connor handled a hostage situation of a deviant android holding a little girl at gunpoint."

"I remember that story." Discreetly dropping David's healthier food into the trashcan to his right Carl listened to Markus talk about what they learned about Connor before and after his deviancy. "That little girl lived thanks to Connor talking the deviant down. He didn't kill that deviant though, the police did."

"We know." Markus admitted as he continued to speak about the events leading to the shooting. "Shortly after deviancy began to spread Connor was assigned to work with the police to hunt deviants down. He found a deviant who had killed a human in self defense, and that deviant later self destructed in a holding cell out of fear."

"Connor did his job and the deviant who in fact did take another life, self defense or not, then took their own life. Unfortunate, but not Connor's responsibility."

"We know that, too."

"What else did he do? Such a title and reputation has to come from more than just two incidents."

"According to the deviants who encountered him Connor chased after one deviant and a little girl, and in turn they had to run across the highway to escape. That deviant and the little girl are the ones I had spoken to, and the same people Connor... apologized to."

"Markus, I can see you trying to shut it out. Don't do that."

Giving Carl a truly lost stare Markus tried to understand what he was talking about. "Shut what out?"

"Your remorse. You're trying to replace it with guilt to punish yourself. Do not substitute one emotion with another, it's unhealthy."

"Can't I feel both?"

"Only if you're meant to feel them. Keep talking. What else did you learn about Connor prior to actually meeting him?"

"After that he chased another deviant through the rooftop urban farms and only let him go after the human detective-" Pausing as he realized that he and the other leaders had overlooked a crucially important reaction on Connor's part, Markus was able to spot early signs of deviancy within Connor through he simple and empathetic decision. "Connor chose to let the deviant go in favor of saving a human life."

"There's more to that, isn't there? Him just chasing deviants could be worthy of being called a hunter, but the way everyone was reacting you'd think he was openly executing deviants in the streets."

"Not long after that encounter he chased two more deviants through that Hellhole known as the 'Eden Club', but he let them go, too."

"Seems like a positive pattern of behavior, not negative."

"Yeah. At the broadcast tower Connor and that human detective he saved investigated everything after Jericho broadcasted our peaceful message and fled. Simon had been wounded and left behind, hiding on the rooftop in a storage compartment. According to Simon he was able to see Connor following his trail of blue blood right to the compartment, but Connor walked away. Connor left Simon alone."

"Was that a conscious decision or did something else catch Connor's attention?"

"I'm not really sure. Another deviant, one who helped us infiltrate the broadcast tower, attacked Connor when he was being interrogated and tried to kill Connor. Obviously Connor survived," rubbing his chin with his left hand Markus stared off into space as he spoke of the information he had been given. "and only shot that deviant when the deviant opened fire on a group of people in a corridor. The deviant... He survived too, and was later freed from police custody after he was secured in the evidence room."

"Sounds like Connor was just defending himself and protecting other people. He has a pretty nice track record of helping people instead of harming them." Rhythmically patting his hands on his lap Carl gave Markus a knowing look. "Not much of a hunter in my opinion."

"He wasn't. And I failed to see that until it was too late."

"By all account it sounds like Connor is quite reasonable, even peaceful, and doesn't want to live a life of violence. You have nothing to worry about beyond your own guilt." Knowing Markus better than Markus knew himself Carl gave the deviant leader something else to think about. "And I think the real reason you're so anxious about meeting with Connor is because you're afraid that if he does forgive you then it won't alleviate the pain you're feeling, and you'll be doomed to suffer until the end of time."

Bowing his head a little Markus now understood what he was truly feeling and why. Knowing that Carl found the root of his pain Markus wondered whether or not if he'd be able to remove that seed of doubt that blossomed in his heart, or if it'd run rampant and overgrow everything he had worked so hard to overcome as a free person and a deviant capable of feeling pain, sorrow, happiness and love.

"Markus, son, you don't deserve to live a life of misery and punishment. If anyone should be left to suffer alone and miserable, it's me."

"Carl?" Shocked at the confession Markus's brow furrowed with utter confusion and sorrow. "How could you say something like that?"

"Because I've lived a long life and I've been more fortunate than most. I used my charm and skills to get everything I wanted: shows, money, women... I took advantage of so many people and I never once thought about how my decisions could affect those people in the long run."

"You're talking about Leo and his mother."

"Yeah. I tried to act like that night never happened, I never questioned it when she went silent and didn't even give a damn when Leo showed up on my doorstep as a lost teenager seeking guidance." Patting his hands along the arms of his chair Carl gave Markus a remorseful stare of his own. "I ended up stuck in this damn chair because I chose to have some drinks, experiment with a few painkillers and then go for a drive. The fact that I survived at all would be considered all the fortune I'd ever deserve, then I had the chance to understand what it meant to actually be a real dad when you showed up in my life. I was given a second chance and you deserve the same."

"We can't compare your experiences to my own."

"Why not? When I went driving drunk and got in that accident I almost killed the other person in the other car. He survived and went on with his life, just as a certain deviant did with his own."

Nodding a little Markus straightened up and let out a slow breath. "Okay, Carl. I understand what you're trying to tell me."

"Good. I didn't know what else to say and I was this damn close," he held up his right index finger and thumb as if he was trying to hold something incredibly small. "to taking one of those canvases back there and painting a literal picture for you to see."

Smirking at the comment Markus started to perk up knew that regardless of the outcome he owed it to Connor to face him and tell him the truth. "Thanks, but I don't think your accountant would appreciate you ruining one of your million dollar pieces."

"Who's he to say that the picture I could've painted would've been worth less than the original image?"

"I'm not sure about that one." Glancing about the back room Markus noticed that David was preoccupied with cybernetically communicating with Carl's doctors and asking for refills on all of his medication, and saw an opportunity to help Carl sneak some food he actually wanted to eat. "I noticed the buffet has deviled eggs. How many do you want?"

"At least three. I should be able to get away with that before David notices."

"You got it." Rising to his feet Markus took Carl's plate and carried it with him over to the buffet to fill up. "Hot sauce?"

"You already know the answer to that one. Double shots, while you're at it. It's been too long since I managed to taste anything that wasn't bland and stripped of any damn flavor."

The sky was turning dark and the two detectives had spoken to every manager and employee at every store and restaurant all along Tenth Street. Those who did see Killian pointed them back toward the brownstone or back to the Zeta Facility. No one ever spoke to him or saw him enter any of the stores, they merely saw the deviant always decked out in stark white with dark green eyes slowly walking down the sidewalk every day for the past three weeks at the same time. In a way Killian's presence was welcome since it meant there was still life in the city and still people who would rather keep to themselves instead of nosing around or staking out buildings.

After checking in with Abby at the facility and confirming that Killian hadn't returned during their search, the two detectives walked back to Connor's brownstone to try to think of where to resume their search for the missing deviant. Connor was scanning the sidewalk in a desperate attempt to isolate Killian's shoe prints from the others on the ground, but such a task was impossible thanks to the constant daily foot traffic.

"Killian has been seen in the area quite bit." Walking with his arms crossed over his chest Hank glanced about the area hoping to see a flash of white and spot Killian walking about in the very clothes he had been consistently described as wearing. "So he must be close. If he's as reserved and closed-off as you said then I doubt he would've gone much further than this block for too long."

"Perhaps, but if he were forced to leave the area then that'll make the search all the more complicated."

"Think he has enemies?"

"Killian and I are infamous in the deviant community." Aware of where he and Killian stood amongst their people Connor knew he had his work cut out for him in regard to locating Killian as soon as possible. "It wouldn't be unexpected for someone to lash out at one of us for any reason."

"That's stupid. You two didn't do anything wrong as deviants, just as machines. And that's because someone else told you guys to do it."

"That doesn't undo the fact that we were involved in some way."

Pausing in front of the brownstone Connor scanned over the repaired front door but saw that the shoe print that was left behind on the surface after Killian kicked in the door to abduct Connor weeks prior was gone. The repairs to the door and following rainstorms washed everything away. It didn't matter since Killian had changed his shoes from the CyberLife boots in favor of his white sneakers, so the shoe prints wouldn't match anyway, but Connor still had some hope to find some kind of usable clue.

"Come inside the brownstone with me for a moment." Connor electronically unlocked the front door and led Hank inside to the study. Closing the door behind them Connor cybernetically tapped into the motion sensor attached to the peephole and discovered that someone did in fact try to enter the brownstone during his prolonged absence. "Shit, I knew it."

"What?" Unsure of what Connor was prying off the front door Hank could only ask questions and wait for answers. "What's going on?"

"I left this motion sensor attached to my door to track the signatures of any and all deviants who might try to enter the brownstone while I'm gone." Rolling up his left sleeves again, the trench coat and then the white dress shirt underneath, Connor retracted his artificial skin and opened the plastimetal panels in his left forearm to return the sensor to where it belonged. "It detected only one signature during the time we were looking for Killian."

Picking up on Connor's distress Hank sighed and narrowed his eyes curiously. "Friend or foe?"

"Known but unknown."

"How the hell does that work?"

"The deviant who stopped by my brownstone was Anne. However, her signature was difficult to register, as if she were trying to mask it." Connor explained in a casual yet speculative tone as a fiery determination filled his soulful brown eyes. "Whether or not she's a friend or foe has yet to be determined."

"What was she doing here?"

"I cannot say for certain. My sensor is a motion tracker, not a surveillance system."

"Shit. Where'd she go after she snooped around your door?" Hank knew a little something about motion trackers and knew that Connor would be able to figure out where she initially came from and where she went afterward. "We might be able to find her and ask why she's stalking your brownstone."

Tapping into the full readout of the sensor Connor's brow furrowed then smoothed out as he turned and peered through the peephole directly. "Anne came to the brownstone from across the street and departed in the same direction."

"Across the street?" Walking over to the shaded from window near the door Hank discreetly pulled back the shade to peek through the window and out to the street as if expecting to see Anne standing right there in plain sight. "That's a damn alleyway. Why would she go there?"

"I'm not sure, but I will find out."

"Kid, hold it." Putting the shade back Hank managed to grab onto Connor's left shoulder just as the deviant unlocked the door again. "Think this through."

Freezing in place Connor scanned over Hank's face and noticed that Hank was restraining a sense of dread. "What're you talking about?"

"If Anne is hiding out in that alleyway for whatever reason, she might have something rigged in there to snare anyone who comes snooping around. You can't just walk down there and expect to check out the area without running into at least one unpleasant thing. Trust me, I've worked way too may patrols and I've had to deal with little traps and ambushes along the way."

Lowering his right hand from the door handle Connor sighed and didn't try to leave the brownstone. "What should I do?"

"You keep your guard up and check out the alleyway, but stay near the opening where I can see you from the window." Not wanting Connor to go anywhere without someone watching his back Hank volunteered to keep vigil. "If you see anything unusual step back and I'll join you."

"Why split up?" Connor didn't understand Hank's planning but was of course willing to trust him. "If there is something critical in the alleyway it'd be more beneficial for us to stick together."

"Because if they only see you, the deviant who lives in the area, looking around then it'll be less suspicious. If we go together then anyone who's watching your brownstone might get spooked and we'll lose our possible lead with Anne."

"And why are you suddenly interested in Anne?"

"Gut instinct. She's been sending you out on little cases, stalking your place and then conveniently finding you at the dog park. That tells me that she's NOT to be trusted, and if what you said earlier is true - deviants would hurt you or Killian out of petty revenge, then I wouldn't put it past her to have something to do with Killian just up and vanishing."

"You believe she's been studying me as well." Able to follow Hank's logic and expertise as a detective perfectly Connor knew that Hank was trying to not blatantly state the obvious. "She has an ulterior motive and despite her essentially laying it out on the line in front of me, I still can't see it."

"We'll figure this out. Stay close and keep in sight of the window."

"Right. I'll use a visual link to allow you to see what I'm seeing through your phone."

"Yeah?" Pulling his phone from his pocket Hank watched as the display lit up as Connor cybernetically connected to the digital device. "All right, cool. That'll make it easier to keep track of the little details, too."

Opening the door at last Connor slowly walked across the street and casually made his way toward the mysterious alleyway across from the brownstone. With his hat still pulled low Connor kept his glowing L.E.D. concealed, and even in the increasingly darkening night the little blue light was out of sight.

Entering the alleyway Connor made sure to look at the ground, to his left and to his right at the two brick walls lining the alleyway, and then upward at the metal fire escape creaking from old age and rust to ensure that there were no traps or surveillance systems rigged in the alley to give his position away. Stepping a little further into the alleyway Connor looked around the area and carefully scanned every centimeter of the surfaces as he peered around a large metallic blue dumpster, and around old garbage littering the ground.

'I can see three separate sets of shoe prints.' Connor confirmed as he cybernetically and silently let Hank know what his scanner was seeing that couldn't be visually communicated over the phone. Connor's visual processors and scanner were two different functions letting Connor see with his eyes and his mind at the same time. 'One set belongs to Anne. I recognize the impression of her ankle boots, the same ones she was wearing when she bumped into me at the dog park.'

'You're absolutely sure they're her prints?'

'Yes.' Connor double-checked the soles of the prints on the surface of the pavement running along the alleyway. 'They are the correct style, heel height, and the wear on the soles and weight distribution perfectly lines up with Anne's body type.'

'What about the other two shoe prints?' Hank asked again as he waited for another update. 'Can you identify them?'

Scanning over the shoe prints Connor ran them against a database of confirmed shoe styles and types, and felt himself grow cold. '...Yes.'

Hank heard the worry and hesitation in Connor's voice even over the cybernetic line. 'What's wrong?'

'These shoe prints, both sets, were created by the CyberLife issued boots for all of their androids to wear while in the tower.'

'Wait, what? CyberLife is back?'

'No. The shoes were created by CyberLife but the people wearing the shoes were both androids. I can't determine if they are deviant or not.'

'So Anne and two other androids are stalking the alleyway outside your brownstone. That's already a little fucked up.'

'I agree.' Scanning the alleyway further Connor detected a relatively fresh sample of vehicle exhaust lingering in the air and decided to check around the corner of the alleyway as there were no tire tracks on the ground where he was standing, and none of the garbage had been run over indicating that no one had driven down that end of the alleyway in the past week or so. 'There is recent vehicular activity in the alleyway.'

'How in the fuck did a car get down that alley?'

'It must've backed into the alleyway from the adjacent street.' Turning the corner in the alley Connor spotted a windowless black van sitting parked in the alleyway with its back facing him and the front of the van facing the adjacent street. The tags were faked and every identifying marking on the van's make and model was eliminated on purpose. 'There is a van back here. The license plate is false but appears authentic enough to fool police drones sweeping the area.'

'Get out of there, kid. I have a bad feeling about that.'

'As do I.' Connor took a step backward and readied himself to turn around and return to his brownstone. 'I'm on my...' Trailing off inside his own mind Connor realized he had come face to face with a masked individual brandishing a powerful taser. How the individual snuck into the alleyway Connor couldn't say for certain, but he could confirm by the individual's shoes that he was one of the androids working with Anne. 'Hank, you'll need to follow this van. I've encountered one of the androids working with Anne and this won't end well.'

Seeing what Connor was seeing on his phone in real time Hank swore and quickly called the precinct to let them know what was happening as he made a move for the brownstone's door, quickly locking it as he knew that Connor's brownstone held critical information, and then rushed to the Oldsmobile parked just a few feet away. The last thing that Connor had seen and cybernetically transmitted to Hank's phone was a black hood dropping down over his head from behind, and a loud gasp of pain as the taser effectively shocked Connor's body and rendered him unconscious within seconds.

"Son of a bitch!"

Swearing loudly Hank shifted his phone to speaker mode as Captain Fowler answered the call and as Hank dropped the phone down in the passenger seat beside him. Quickly turning the key in the ignition Hank felt the Oldsmobile roar to life and swiftly backed onto the street and pulled down the same street just in time to see the black van speeding out of the alley down the adjacent street at a dangerously high speed.

'Hank?' Captain Fowler's voice suddenly came over the line as the call connected. He could hear the sound of the old car's engine roaring and other cars blaring their horns angrily in the background and knew that something serious was happening right at that moment. 'What the hell is-'

"Someone just abducted Connor!" Shouting to be heard over the engine Hank chased after the black van to the best of his ability, but the old car and ever darkening street giving the black van a disadvantageous black camouflage made the chase increasingly difficult. The evening traffic was beginning to thicken and in return Hank had to begrudgingly slow down to avoid hitting innocent bystanders and other cars. "It's a large black van with no windows. No other markings are visible."

'Shit, got a plate number?'

"It's fake but I got it: DTD A113." Reporting the license plate as he would any other car Hank continued the chase. "We're going down Tenth and heading West!"

'All right, I'll get patrol out there.' Captain Fowler was talking to Hank on his personal phone while using his desk phone to issue an A.P.B. to the rest of the city to look for the fleeing black van. 'Can you describe the person who took Connor?'

"No, they were wearing a mask. They had a taser and a partner who snuck up on Connor from behind." Swerving through traffic Hank struggled to keep up with the speeding van but when it turned off the head and tail lights the black vehicle disappeared into the surrounding night. "Fuck! They just went dark! Last I saw they were passing through the intersection of West LaFayette Boulevard and Sixth Street, they're still going West."

'There are drones in the area sweeping the area for that license plate.'

"That won't be enough! They're going- Shit!" Stomping down on the brakes Hank turned the steering wheel hard to the right and ended up sliding sideways down the street a good fifty yards before coming to a screeching halt. If he hadn't hit the brakes he would've t-boned a family van turning around the corner of the intersection to get onto Hank's street just as the van sped around that same corner. "Fuck! I lost 'em!"

Captain Fowler heard the tires screeching and Hank swearing over the line. 'Talk to me, Hank! What just happened?'

"The fuckers wove through traffic and rounded the corner out of sight!" Throwing open his door Hank grabbed the phone from the passenger seat and his badge from his back pocket to let the van know he wasn't crazy, just in pursuit of the fleeing van. The family van wasn't in trouble. "Those fuckers nearly caused me to crash into another car at the intersection."

'We'll find the van and we'll find Connor. Get your ass back here and give us a full statement, NOW.'

"Yeah, yeah..."

Glancing upward Hank ended the phone call and watched four police drones with their red and blue lights flashing fly overhead and follow the route that the fleeing van had taken in attempt to continue the pursuit. The way the nearly silent drones vanished as quickly as they appeared wasn't nearly as comforting as Hank had been hoping since he remembered what Connor had said about the false license plate on the van being able to fool those very same drones.

"I'm on my way in."

-next chapter-