As of May 3rd, 2020, this chapter's been edited to clean up formatting issues.


November 6, 2038

Two days and numerous discussions with Captain Fowler later, and the Special Investigations Division was combining their red ice case with Hank's deviancy work. This meant sharing files and resources, which included the new android detective Andy had been hearing about from her handler all week.

He was stiff, according to the reports Lieutenant Richards had, but he was also very effective at his job. She heard a little about the FBI work Connor had been doing since August, and then there was the android hiding in the attic of Carlos Ortiz - that one particularly caught her attention, considering Ortiz was a face she'd seen almost regularly for the past five years.

She was close to getting the last piece of the puzzle against Nick Weaver, and if anything could help her, it would be CyberLife's prototype detective. Helping Hank was a bonus.

"Zlatko Adronikov. Aged forty-seven, six feet tall, 198 pounds. He was in prison for embezzlement and fraud, but there are no narcotics charges."

The android himself sat in the passenger's seat of Hank's Oldsmobile, reading off a file from the records he was allowed access to by the department. He was a walking encyclopedia, and Andy was almost jittery with excitement from that idea.

She sat in the backseat, ankle hooked on her knee. They were minutes from Andronikov's home, and if luck would have it, a warrant would be approved any minute before they arrived. "The guy hides out in his place all day. Sends droids out to do all his errands, tries to keep bystanders off the property. He's private," She described, resting an elbow on the door beside her.

From the driver's seat, Hank scoffed and threw her a glance over his shoulder. "I'm private. This guy's just scummy."

Andy smirked, asking, "So what's the plan?"

"Connor and I talk to the guy. We hand him the warrant when we get it."

That was not the answer she was hoping to get. If they did things her way, they wouldn't even need the warrant. Leaning forward, she pointed to him and offered, "Alternative idea."

"No," He replied immediately. She spoke with a tone he'd heard many times since she joined the force, and this was an argument he'd been expecting.

She would have been lying if she said there was a deep, emotional reason for her frustration. There wasn't. She was simply impatient, and being this close to Andronikov's property - this close to wrapping up her case - had her antsy. "I'll be brief," She claimed, almost petulantly.

Hank sighed. "We've already been over this with Richards. You're not endangering your narcotics work for this case- and you may not remember this, but you were also stabbed recently?"

"It's a flesh wound," She dismissed his comment, waving a hand toward Connor, "Robo-Doc over here even said so."

Connor was quick to interject. "I'm not a doctor," He corrected, looking up to the rear-view mirror to see her in the backseat. "However, I agree with the lieutenant. Your injury may slow you down or raise suspicion, and the state of your mission now directly affects ours."

Hank sat a little straighter, feeling smug. He glanced to Andy, musing, "See? Robo-Doc agrees with me."

She looked between them with a bewildered expression. Convincing Hank to ease up was one thing - she'd done it before. But an android? That was another ballgame entirely, and she doubted he would bend will as easily as the ones Weaver moved in and out of his place. She scoffed, resting her cheek against her fist and muttering under her breath, "Now who's getting tag-teamed?"

The car fell into silence after that. Andy hated silence. She bobbed her knee up and down as she tried to wait it out, but soon found herself caving.

"So, hey, I'm curious," She started, looking at the back of Connor's head, "You're not like any other models I've seen."

"You around a lot of androids?" Hank asked. He sounded less interested and more irritable about the topic. Andy knew about his distaste for AI, but she also wondered if he was just tired of the curiosity surrounding Connor.

"Weaver keeps 'em around like they're trophies. He likes to swap out his housekeepers once a month, says he gets tired of the same faces," She shrugged, her expression twisting into something resembling disgust. She let it sit for a brief moment, and then lightened. "Never seen anyone like Connor, though."

Connor nodded as though this was obvious. To him, it was. "I'm an advanced prototype designed by CyberLife. There's no model like me on the market."

He was the first of his kind. Having him on her case was an opportunity not many would ever get - not that many would want it. Half the department had to be spinning with Connor's arrival. Hank pulled up to a curb and parked as she mused, "Bet the whole android detective thing's got to be popular around the precinct."

Whether he noticed the sarcasm or not, Connor informed her, "On the contrary, many officers I've met so far have been quite hesitant of me." He looked into the rear-view mirror, and caught her staring. "Your disposition toward me has been a new experience, however."

At this, she smirked and joked, "I like to keep people on their toes."

A snort broke from Hank's throat. Before Andy could call him out on his response, Connor was speaking again, his LED flashing yellow. "Our warrant arrived."

"About time," Hank complained. Hearing a car door open behind him, he held an arm out to stop Andy from leaving. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

She stopped and looked at him as though it was obvious. To her, it was. "To search the house."

This was also something Hank was expecting. It'd been half a day and already she needed supervision. "With this asshole still in there? No, I don't think so. You sit here until I come to get you," He ordered her as he opened his own door. Pointing at her to stress his next words, he said, "That's an order."

She held up her hands defensively. "Did I argue?"

"You were thinkin' about it," He grumbled back, climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind him.

Connor followed after the lieutenant, and met with the man on the sidewalk beside the car. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing Andy slouch in the backseat. "I'm doubtful of Detective Hope's willingness to follow that order, Lieutenant."

Hank pulled at the collar of his jacket as he started to walk forward. "Yeah, get in line."


The Andronikov estate had seen better days. As they walked through the wrought iron fence that was missing half its length around the property, Connor took quick note of the boarded up windows, the abandoned yard, and the tarp covering various holes in the roof. It would seem after the last of his relatives passed, Zlatko failed to continue any of the maintenance.

This certainly wasn't for a lack of help, considering the significant amount of thirium Connor could see trailing across the walkway in the front yard. The blue blood of androids was vibrant against the concrete, and it mixed in with human blood splattering the middle of the yard.

He stopped to kneel down and run a finger through the blood. He brought his finger to his tongue, stirring disgust from Hank. The lieutenant grimaced and turned away, complaining, "Ugh, here I thought you were getting less unbearable to work with."

It was a comment Connor dismissed as usual irritability. He let his sensors scan the blood and looked up once he had a name. "It belongs to Andronikov."

"Least we know we're in the right place," Hank offered with a shrug. Despite the casual tone, he faced the house with a new tension in his shoulders, and his hand hovered near his firearm.

Connor stood to catch up to him, adding, "There's also quite a bit of thirium. I doubt it all belongs to one unit."

At the top of the stairs, Hank reached out and rapped his knuckles on the door. "Detroit Police Department!" He yelled out, glancing to the windows nearby.

No one was coming to answer them. The blood and thirium were enough for Hank to enter the premises even without a warrant, and so he tried to open the door. It was unsurprising to find it locked.

Connor was getting impatient. He moved away from the front of the house and approached a nearby window. Stretching up to peer inside the home, he could see blood of both kinds on the floor and the railing of the stairs in the foyer. His eyes followed it to a doorway, where he spotted a pair of feet peaking out from the room.

"Lieutenant."

Connor's urgent inflection caught Hank's attention. He joined him in the yard and looked through the window, seeing everything for himself. "Shit," He swore under his breath before rushing back to the door. He retrieved his gun before he finished climbing the steps, and a swift kick against the wood had the lock shattering and the door bursting open.

"Anrdonikov?" Hank called out, entering the home with a careful eye on his surroundings.

Connor rushed in behind him and went for the den, where Zlatko Andronikov lay on the floor. He approached the body, kneeling down to check for a pulse that wasn't there. His eyes scanned Zlatko's back, taking in the tears in his clothing and the markings on his arms.

Bruises and gashes. Small cuts, but nothing fatal. Beaten to death. Thirium laced with his own blood. Beaten by androids.

Rolling him over, Connor picked up one of his hands, bringing it closer.

Thirium stains on his hand, present longer than the rest of it. Confirms android tampering.

As Connor went through his examinations, Hank was moving around the first floor, checking each room and finding mostly layers of dust and cobwebs. He neared the stairs in the foyer, glancing up to the second floor and then down at the stairs leading to the basement. A light flickered from around the corner, and he could see droplets of blood on the steps.

Hank glanced up to the den where Connor was working. Andronikov was dead - he would have heard otherwise by now. Confident that his partner could handle himself on this floor, Hank went downstairs.

Whatever he expected to find down there, it wasn't that.

Numerous cages lined the right wall, each with recently broken locks. The shells of androids were piled up in the corners of them, deactivated and torn apart in several pieces. It was the sight of nightmares, no matter your opinion of the victims.

He neared the end of the hallway, which veered off to the left in another room. Before he could reach it and investigate further, the door of the last cage was thrown open. It pushed into him and knocked him off his balance, and as he caught himself, he saw an android halfway to the stairs.

"Hey! Freeze!"

On the first floor, Connor's head shot up when he heard the shout. A second later, an android had made his way upstairs. He stumbled to a stop when he found Connor in the doorway, but quickly took off out of the house. Connor wasted no time in giving chase, and he could hear Hank not far behind.

The deviant escaped down a side path, and into the trees behind the house. Connor remained on his trail, weaving around the forestry that had been left to grow untamed. Branches whipped against his arms and sides, but his goal was catching the runner no more than ten feet away from him. When the deviant veered right, he immediately did the same, hoping to cut him off before they reached the edge of the trees.

Just outside of this small woodlands was a main road, and that was not far from the regular traffic of the city. If the deviant could reach that, he had a chance to get away for good. Where he would go afterward with his skin disabled and numerous panels across his body missing, he had no idea - he just needed to get there first.

He broke through the border of trees and gave himself a brief second to collect himself and discern his location. If he ran back toward the estate, maybe he could throw them off his trail just enough to give him time. He turned down the sidewalk with the new plan in mind, but ground to a halt.

Connor jumped out onto the sidewalk behind him, skidding to a stop when he found the deviant standing nearby. In front of him was Andy, her gun raised against the escaped android. Connor slowly approached as Hank stumbled his own way through the weeds.

The lieutenant knelt over, hands to his knees. "I thought I told you to stay in the damn car!" Were his first words, a scolding glare in Andy's direction.

Her gun lowered as they surrounded the deviant, who looked between them like a wild animal, waiting to lash out. She scowled at Hank, stressing, "You're welcome?"

Before he could continue into what would have turned into a lecture, Connor delivered a compliment. "Thank you, Detective Hope. Excellent work."

At this, Andy beamed, her chest puffing out and her chin tilting upward. A smile and a nod. Proud of the recognition. My opinion pleases her.

Hank gave a loud scoff to break through the moment and threw his hands up, reaching for the deviant. "Let's just get this thing into the house before someone recognizes you."

Hearing mention of Andronikov's home, the deviant finally snapped. "No!" He cried, turning to bolt past Connor and Hank. The men jumped after him, grabbing hold and pulling on him. He thrashed against their grip, but they were both stronger than him, and he found himself being tossed back into the middle of the trio.

"Hey, hey, whoa!" Hank yelled as he held up a hand toward the deviant. He retrieved handcuffs from his pocket and tossed them to Andy, who stepped up to the android.

"Don't take me back there! I'll go anywhere else, just not there!" His eyes were wide and he shifted his weight from one foot to the next, ready to attempt another escape the second he saw an opening. He jumped as Andy grabbed his arm, but let her handcuff him without any trouble.

Violent reaction to mention of the Andronikov Estate. Fear. Andronikov is already dead. Fear of something else.

Connor's brows furrowed as he starting playing through what the deviant's distress could mean. "Where are the other androids?"

Hank perked up in mild panic. "What?"

"There was too much thirium in that house for just you, and it was recent. Where are the other androids?" Connor pressed louder, leaning toward the deviant to emphasize the urgency.

The deviant started to shake his head. He was hesitant, but also insistent in his denial. "No. No, it's- it's just me. It's just me."

Having looked between the group in front of her, Andy suggested, "They're still in the house."

Connor began to reply, but the deviant stepped away from him, expecting to be grabbed again. "No! Nothing's in that house, not anymore! Nothing but that bastard's corpse!" His gaze lowered to the sidewalk, and for a moment, he went still. "I'm alone," He mumbled quietly, as if just realizing it.

Expression indicating sorrow. This answer seems honest.

"Then where did they go?" Connor asked him.

Anguish changed to frustration as the deviant looked up with a scowl. "I don't know- There was a man- He-" He stopped himself, eyes drifting past them.

Connor turned to see what caught the android's attention. A truck was several yards away, driving down the road in their direction. From behind him, he heard the deviant whisper, "I can't go back."

Muttered in desperate declaration. Desperate. Self-destruction.

By the time Connor realized what was happening, the deviant had already lunged for the street. Andy still had a hold, so when he ran for it, the momentum yanked on Andy's arms. She kicked a foot back to counter him and attempted to pull him away from the street, but the two quickly stumbled over the edge of the curb.

Connor ran forward and wrapped an arm around Andy's torso. He put his full weight into pushing her to the sidewalk, perhaps hoping it would also drag the deviant back, but the deviant broke free of Andy's grasp. Connor and Andy fell several steps back across the pavement, and only a beat passed before the truck slammed full force into the deviant, managing to come to a slow stop seconds later.


The trio performed one last search through Andronikov's home and waited for CSI to take over before they left. It was a tense ride to the precinct, and even Andy had settled into silence.

Andronikov was dead, and that meant a lot of things for the department. He was Hank's best shot at finding not just individual rogue androids, but figuring out where they were all coming from and how. He was just as big a catch for Andy, who'd been counting on Andronikov's own criminal charges to sway him into helping her take down the rest of Weaver's network.

They now sat around Hank's desk, each of them pondering the day's events. To say there was a gloom hanging above them would have been an understatement.

"How is your injury?" Hank and Andy tuned back in to their surroundings. Connor was looking at Andy, and he gestured to her abdomen when she faced him.

She shrugged, lowering into the swivel chair she stole from another desk. "Well I didn't get run over, so I could be worse," She replied.

Connor hesitated a moment, then said, "I apologize for not being quicker. I should have stopped the android before it ever put you in risk of that."

"What?" She laughed a little and assured him, "That wasn't criticism. You did fine, Doc."

"I'm an advanced prototype. My work needs to be more than just fine," He argued. Shooting her one last glance, he corrected, "Also, I'm not a doctor."

Andy ignored the last comment and crossed her arms. She couldn't deny what he was saying was true, but she also knew how chaotic the job could be. "All cases have variables. You can't win 'em all."

Connor wasn't buying it. That may have been the case for humans or the patrol androids the department used, but he had to be held to a higher standard. So far he'd had two deviants escape his custody, and if you included the work of his previous model, Connor was looking more to be a defective prototype than advanced technology ready for the market. "That's precisely what I'm meant to do. I knew it was erratic and in distress, which meant self destruction was probable. I should have acted accordingly," He spoke, more to himself than anything.

"He was going to find a way no matter what you did," Andy stretched her legs out, which pushed her chair further away from their desks. "That's the thing about people, Doc - we're determined and nonsensical."

Now she simply had to be testing him, both with the inaccurate nickname and the comparison between androids and people. With a faint frown, he said, "We weren't dealing with a human, Detective Hope. It was a machine."

"I'd say 'erratic and in distress' is less machine than it is human, wouldn't you?" She squared off, a brow quirking in curiosity.

"Are you two done?"

They straightened, looking over to the lieutenant who was scowling at them both. Connor leaned back in his seat, trying to collect himself and move on from the conversation that was brewing moments ago. Andy's reaction was more nonchalant; she shot Hank an amused grin and asked, "Don't like our charming banter? I'm shocked."

"Smartass," He muttered back. Dropping a pen he'd been tapping on his desk, he pushed things along. "What the hell do we do now? That asshole had nothing in his estate that helped us understand what's going on or where deviants are running off to."

"I might be able to help with that."

Hank turned his chair and Andy looked at the man who approached the trio. He stood with salt and pepper hair, a black coat over a dark polo, and a cup of coffee in his hand.

Harvey Richards, lieutenant at the Detroit Police Department, Special Investigations Division. Thirty years of service. Dark circles. Light stubble. Slept in those clothes, likely in his office. An old wedding ring.

"Harvey," Hank nodded in greeting.

Richards returned the gesture, and looked down at Andy in her chair. "Don't stand on my account, Hope," He remarked.

"Wasn't plannin' on it," She quipped.

He huffed, but didn't appear offended. Finally his attention landed on Connor, and he gestured toward the android with his cup. "So this is the legendary prototype, huh?"

Connor nodded and introduced himself. "Hello. My name is Connor. You must be Harvey Richards."

Richards tilted his head and offered a small wave of confirmation. Hank cleared his throat, asking, "You said you could help us?"

"I said might," Richards stressed, "I have an idea on how to find those androids from Andronikov's place."

"Yeah?"

Richards pointed to Andy, telling her, "But first, you and I need to discuss it in my office."

Andy's brows shot up and with renewed vigor, she slapped her hands on the armrests and jumped out of her chair. "Confidential meetings. My favorite kind," She mused before following after Richards.

"Andy!" Hank sat up, waving to catch her attention. When she looked back, he pointed to her and said, "Nothing stupid."

Another cheesy grin flashed on her face. "Stupid's my middle name," She replied before disappearing around the corner.

Connor's brows furrowed at that. He turned to Hank with the question clear as day on his face, and with closed eyes, Hank quickly shook his head no. Together they watched Andy enter an office to the side of the bullpen, and they were left to quietly wait - and hope - for good news from SID.