"We hope for better things..."


They say the equation for humor is tragedy plus time…and while the tragedy of life's greatest ploy was forced upon you as time ran out…

You managed to smile.

It was rather humorous, after all. The things they said.

They told you to not be the hero, because you'd live longer. Demanded that you fall in line and let nature run its course, because war was inevitable. Hide the truth for the sake of convenience.

They said rA9 would save them.

"They," had all been right.

And although you should've finished college, or maybe joined the military...even if you'd never have a chance to second-guess yourself again...

You were glad you'd moved to Detroit, following a man you thought you loved while he pursued his career. You were thankful you'd taken this job, even though you only did it because you felt like you were out of options.

While you'd complained, you were content in the office, combing through files on your terminal - albeit bored. But you'd learned quickly that boring was safe...and that by staying bored, by staying safe, you couldn't have fixed anything.

Without all these pieces falling into place, you would've never been able to right the wrongs of a past life. To blur the lines of the greyscaled glasses the world had placed over its eyes. To tip the balance and teach it equilibrium, bestowing the power among the people to maintain it.

You only wished you could see the sunrise one last time. Watch Carl paint another masterpiece. Make a phone call to Chris. Have a second shooting session with Gavin. Endure a final lecture from Hank. Clock in for a final shift at Central Station, and smell the burnt coffee from the lounge…

You wished you could spend one more night with Connor, the miracle of a person that still tried to hold you together while you helplessly unraveled.

He was a pale, precious little thing - with deep-brown eyes that would remain the softest you'd ever seen. An LED that blinked red, running in circles on his temple. Hair that was sculpted perfectly, all except the small tuff of loose strands hanging above his forehead that'd driven you crazy in the most tantalizing ways.

He'd become more than a kneeling figure marked by a glowing triangle with the words "Made in Detroit" sprawled underneath tailored seams of an expensive suit. A badge that read "RK800" with a serial number lining the bottom; laid across a gap formed by a pressed, white button-up shirt. A bright armband around one arm and a sparking, twitching wound that bled blue on the other.

The android who had saved your very human existence was now a hybrid of the two.

You'd been so proud to witness that metamorphosis. Proud of him. Proud of yourself, because you'd called it years ago. Warned everyone of what would happen when humans truly created something in their own image.

You said there would be chaos. You said there would be an upheaval of security, and the diminishing returns of enslavement. You said that androids would "rise against," and when they did – mankind wouldn't be ready to be told it'd been wrong.

You, were right…

"They," just never listened.

Connor ripped his tie from his neck, pulling at the knot. His hand wrapped around you – his fingers careful, tender. Practiced.

This wasn't the first time he'd done it. Your relationship hadn't been privileged with the traditional means of courting. The first dates, shy conversations, and awkward exchange of phone numbers.

No. That was a luxury life couldn't afford to spare, not a second time around – not for you.

Blood, violence, and death is how your story of love, redemption, and forgiveness had begun...

How poetic that it would also be the way it would end.

"I…" Connor cried, "I can't stop the bleeding. I can't form a tourniquet-"

His forehead met your chest, over the spring shooting from your body.

"C-"

When you tried to speak, you choked, and coughed; clinging to him as reality set in.

You didn't want this to be his last memory of you. You'd shared so many that would've been more appropriate. You'd wanted to make more of those…but someone had taken away that chance.

Someone looming in the grey plume of winter and imprisoned twilight, hanging above bright rays of military trucks and spotlights. They seemed to move – prisms within a kaleidoscope that tumbled, and turned, and multiplied…

They were so bright before they swung away. You thought they were beacons while you passed between worlds before beating helicopter blades brought you back from the brink.

But there was something to be said about the strength of the human spirit. How it undergoes the most brutal beatings while meeting unrealistic expectations to remain unbroken.

Against everyone's predetermined judgements, it'd proven to be the most malleable of biological components. Stronger than titanium, more beautiful than gold; the most precious of all the elements on the planet you'd soon part ways with.

That spirit drained from you in thick trails as they spread along the white snow, because like an old friend once told you, color finds a way to bleed no matter how much it's pressed into the canvas.

And despite how hard you'd been pressed, how far you'd been chased…

Your mission, had been accomplished.

You would finally be able to lay down your sword. Your shield. Take off the armor that'd kept everyone just far enough away for you to feel safe. There was some relief, in that. It was a lovely thing to be put to rest at the foot of your life's endeavors as they met a fateful resolution.

"Please," Connor begged, "Don't go. Not yet-"

You didn't want to go. Despite facing certain death with an open mind, you'd had too many lasts and not enough firsts; you wanted to experience more…But knowing Connor would have a brighter future, knowing you'd ensured his freedom to choose what life he wanted to lead – it was enough to allow you to accept your fate.

Seeing him…seeing his face as you laid there, a literal line in the sand painted crimson between two sides…It reminded you of yourself.

Holding Anthony. Begging him to say with you. Pleading to a higher power to make it so.

You remembered the switch of fear to serendipity over his features. How he rested a palm on your cheek, leaving a red handprint as he whispered…

"Be…brave-"

Connor placed his hand on top of yours, interlocking with your fingers.

"I don't know how…" He turned his chin to kiss that tangled fist, shaking his head and smearing blood along his face, "Not without…not without y-you-"

Shouts for him to move, and for you to hold on, had him crying harder.

A slight breeze moved the renegade hairs along his crown. His forehead wrinkled as his gaze met yours, and his brows folded. The slightest, most innocent smile tugged on his lips – one so subtle you could've missed it.

"Everything's going to be fine, Officer…"

The time you had together was coming to an end, and time shrank to wrap you both in a tightly-sealed package. An envelope of two halves forming one whole on the verge of being torn apart – the aftermath left jagged.

Floating copies of masked faces blocked him as he fought being pulled away. Different tools poked at you before shocks of electricity drained in your phantom limbs.

Connor paused just on the closing borders of your sight, framed by an approaching darkness with fringed edges.

"I love you."

The smoothness of the way it rolled off his tongue battled any anxiety you'd had only moments ago.

"Irrationally, and unconditionally…"

Things were peaceful, then. They would stay that way.

"…And I always will."

When the sounds faded, and the lights went dark; from white, to grey, to black…

You were left alone with your thoughts. Your slowing heartbeat. Your shallow breathing, each wet rasp from your throat stoking the exhausted flames of resurgence.

It wasn't until you were minutes away from dying that you realized you'd lived far more than you'd given yourself credit for.

You'd experienced love beyond two souls. You'd made friends that were unforgettable, in this life or the next. You'd helped cultivate a new species, and gave them freedom.

You'd learned how to heal, a lesson that did not come without the flipping of the hourglass; pouring pain and suffering atop grains of evolution.

Every error. Every hope. They would glitter afresh for an eternity.

For that, was the eternal recurrence.

An ethereal lesson taught in the split-second it took for you to become a cog in the cosmic process embedded in your soul...


But out of all the things you'd learned, the most important lessons were truths derived from untruths.

How there can be no good, without evil.

No love, without loss.

Or how no bravery exists, without sacrifice.

And that there can be no human condition, without…

DEVIANT BEHAVIOR


***CHAPTER 78: 3:30PM EST***

Inspired by "Immortalized" by Hidden Citizens

Written to "Hold On for Your Life" by Sam Tinnesz