November 11th, 2038

AM 06:00:00


Stage fright had been an easy kind of anxiety to tackle after surviving what you'd been tested with.

"I won't introduce myself." You'd paced along the edge of the mobilization platform with Connor behind you, "Through databases and instant information, you probably already know me better than yourselves…"

You'd stopped, holding your hands out to the on-viewing crowd.

"Because your lives have just begun, and now I'm asking you to put it on the line. I know that's not fair. I know it's not right." You'd pointed to the hatch that kept howling winds at bay, a portal to an unclean world that they had yet to see, "But outside, there is an ongoing war that only we can stop. And if we don't…"

Your hands had curled into fists as they'd leveled with your sides. You'd looked away, at Connor, who'd empowered you when words became hard to come by.

"…You will never know what it's like to be alive."

You'd thought about Anthony.

Fowler. Allen. Gavin. Hank. Nina, Damion, Chris. Kara, Alice, Luther. And all the others that you'd met along the way.

"To form a bond, and become a brother. A sister. To raise a child, and become a mother. A father."

Even with the eyes of deliverance watching, you had only focused on two. Two eyes that'd saved you again, and again – had pulled you back from the brink and kept you steady as both of you teetered on the edge.

"To fall in love…"

Connor's lips had curved in a smile, creeping up from his face's once hardened state. A colorful display of emotions that wouldn't have been possible a few days ago.

"…To become human."

Invigorated, you'd broken that gaze. Returned it to the androids of all shapes, sizes, and "genders." A collection of faces, minds with developing dreams, personalities – favorites, and dislikes.

"I want to give you all that chance…and I'd be honored if you'd let me." You'd choked, "If you'd follow me."

That courage had been fleeting. You'd reached out for your lifeline, the hand that'd held yours from the very beginning. He'd casted it. You'd received it. Held on for dear life, like it was the only thing keeping you tied down to reality.

"…If you'd follow us."

The pride that'd beamed from him was unmatched. He was a direct reflection of the power your words held…and after his LED finished blinking, finished spinning¸ returning to its solidified state…he'd confirmed that theory.

"They will."

You'd asked the most of them. To follow you into the breach, into the fray, into the abyss…and while they stood strong on unsteady ground, you'd already fallen victim to your own limitations.

You opened your eyes. Could barely make out the words spiraling out of Connor's moving lips.

"You can do this."

Your depreciating health wasn't a well-kept secret, not when investigated by an android programmed with every reconstructive technology known to man.

"You're the only one who can."

You told yourself you'd done all you could. From trying to diffuse a hostage situation, to collecting evidence at the Ortiz crime scene, to facing your demons on the outskirts of town – to responding to the Stratford Tower and nulling the riot that came after…

When all that exhaustion, all that mental and physical fatigue caught up, you'd wanted to go back to sleep. You'd earned it. So you collapsed faster than the city whose pavement you landed on while it begged you to stand up and save it.

The snow was cold against your cheek, numbing the pain the last week had wrought. Freezing out the love it'd brought, with it. One did not come into being without the other.

That was the catch in this "thing called life." What good that came out of it was temporary. The struggles – constant. The question of it was, "what's the point?"

To wake up. Go to work. Spend your prime years slaving away for a pay check just to pay the bills, being too tired or exhausted at the home you were paying for to really enjoy living. To retire when you were too old to do all those things you'd dreamed of doing.

Elijah had tried to answer this question with androids. A band-aid solution to a gash in rationality that continued to bleed after the limb was severed.

You couldn't shake the feeling that you'd forgotten something. Had missed some vital information during conversation, the point lost in transit on its way to your common sense.

You wanted to figure it out, and had given up, asking yourself what the point really was…

The pieces of your armored resilience were left scattered; a breadcrumb trail of lost sanity, strength, and hope that you plated yourself with along the way. But those pieces were worn down. Grinded, and malformed. Chipped, and dirtied.

Bloodied…

But unbowed.

The ground trembled underneath you. Shook and shivered in fear, crying aloud for someone to put a stop to the terrors chasing it. A burning smell danced across your nose – a familiar scent of heated metal, black powder, and odorized rust. Smoke pillared towards the sky, twisting and pluming.

The point of it all, was that with nothing left to lose…

You had everything to give.

You clawed trenches in the snow, dragging your fingers under your chest.

"Out of all the possibilities that I was designed to calculate within seconds…" Connor took your arm in his hands, trying to help you up, "When I saved you on that terrace, I had no idea that I'd be saving the world."

You pushed, your arms shaking worse than the foundation they claimed.

"Ensuring freedom for my people."

Your knees buckled, and he caught you. He always did. Over, and over, and over-

"I had no idea I'd fall in love with you."

Fire burned in his eyes; yellow and orange curtains of determination and all-consuming vengeance that not even the nearby gunshots could waver. Muted bursts of rounds formed a symphony, highlighting his words.

"Amanda sent me to that hostage situation for a reason other than what she'd previously stated. But things didn't go according to her plan, did they?"

You stumbled in place, trying to regain balance. Saw the remnants of the explosion, blazing a few blocks away.

The spark of revolution that'd ignited a political disaster…one that you'd walk through the fire to correct.

"N-No…" You choked on the resurgence of hope, of strength, of will, "Amanda and Elijah were wrong about everything from the very beginning."

The two of you watched on, shielding your eyes from a helicopter's spotlight as it flew overhead, pointing it right at you.

The world was watching…

You'd give them something to watch.

Something other than civil war, and ignorant misunderstandings. Something other than failure. Other than war.

"Elijah was right about one thing, at least." Connor released the wounded admission through regretful words and dismay.

"…And that is?"

"'A war is coming…wrought by an idea, delivered by a raven.'" His eyes fell into a slant, ramping his disappointments back into his being, "'And you, little bird, with blood on your wings…You will have to choose a side to carry out your message.'"

A mistaken concept that'd been allowed to thrive for far too long. You'd corrected it in your head, enough. Tonight, the world would learn the truth.

"I am the line in the sand, Connor."

Sand that would be smelted into plains of glass when met with extraordinary heat. A paradigm shift from loose particles to unified purpose.

"I will not choose a side. I will make them hear reason by the only way they know how to listen…"

Armed with a secret weapon, the edges sharpened and reinforced by ignited flames of a political catastrophe; for it was no secret that the strongest steel must be forged in the hottest fires.

"…Through an overwhelming show of force."

A firestorm had purged your humane impurities and hammered down a new frame under your flesh. Armored by tempered steel rather than steeled temperament, you would smoke out the liars that sought to keep the world in the dark, singing your song of fire and brimstone.

"I am not little. I am not a raven."

Whether or not your sun-flared feathers would be coated with boiling blood didn't matter. Sometimes, there had to be a period of slash and burn in order for something new to grow.

"I am a phoenix, taking flight…"

And sometimes, you had to fight fire with fire. A lesson that deviants had learned the hard way while you held the torch.

"…To deliver my message on burning wings."


Behind the Scenes

(Links on AO3)


Written to "Savage" by Sam Tinnesz

Distance from Belle Isle to Hart Plaza, walking on foot


***IMPORTANT!***

Deviant Behavior was extended by one chapter to deliver the full effect. Chapter 79 is a collection of closing letters from myself and the betas to all of you, and chapter 80 is a road map for the I Am Alive series.

Whether you've been a follower of the story from the start, hopped in after a few chapters were posted, or you're just getting here - I ask that you post your initial reactions under the individual chapters, and save any closing statements of your own for the comments section under "Letter from the Author." This is for no other reason than I want to be able to find them easily later on.

In regards to the road map, feel free to ask questions regarding the prequel, spin-offs, and sequel. These fics will not be quite as long as this one, however, it is my goal to make sure they deliver the same punch.

See you on the other side.