DBH: Become Justice

by WayWardWonderer

After the peaceful Revolution Connor decides to step into the shadow to watch over Detroit in secret. After he is presumed dead Connor has to rely on his own skills and resources in order to survive and to protect the everyone without a certain Lieutenant discovering his secret and new life's mission. However, the two detectives' paths will still cross and secrets will be revealed.

2. A New Era Begins

"A New Era Begins"

Detroit Central Precinct

The sun was concealed behind the thick snow clouds building on the horizon. As predicted, the powerful snowstorm had built over the city and was now actively burying Detroit beneath several inches of fresh snow and relentless ice. Powerful wind gusts threatened to uproot trees and blow open the weakened roofs of neglected buildings while shaking the walls of every home in the city. A majority of Detroit was still abandoned due to the mandatory citywide evacuation that had happened just hours before the peaceful Demonstration paved the way for the world changing Revolution. As a result, many houses were dark, cold and were seemingly left to rot in the wake of their owners fleeing from Detroit en mass.

The only locations in the city that were still bustling with activity were all of the police precincts, all of the fire departments and every hospital within the city itself. Such locations were deemed absolutely essential for survival and control regardless of the situations at hand. The Central Precinct appeared to be the busiest of all of the aforementioned important locations as Hank stared down at the white sheet covering whom he still believed to be his former partner's body and waited for the precinct's newly assigned technician to finish the examination to determine the deviant's cause of shutdown.

Standing quietly against the wall with his blue eyes transfixed on the unseeing gaze of the deviant staring up at the ceiling was all that Hank could do. He wasn't a technician, and he had no idea how to even begin to deduce what type of damage could and could not permanently shut down androids. Knowing that his friend had been gunned down in the middle of a church - a place meant to be a safe haven for all seeking shelter be they man or machine - had motivated Hank to get back out into the field on active patrol in a way he hadn't felt in years.

Hovering over the shutdown deviant laying over the exam table was Dr. Joel Forrest. Joel was a bright young man who had been urgently hired onto the precinct's roster after Captain Fowler requested some form of technical assistance to be readily available in his precinct due to the Demonstration and Revolution changing Detroit overnight. With his pale blue eyes focused on his laptop screen and the sleeves of his red jumpsuit rolled up to his elbows, Joel looked more like an engineer than a technician or electronics expert. Running his fingers through his thick but short brunet hair as he let out a sigh, Joel turned to look at Hank and gave him an update on his findings during the apportionment.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. But all details confirm that this android is in fact the same Connor that you worked with." Printing off his findings on his laptop the young technician began explaining his discoveries and how he was able to confirm the body's identity. It seemed Connor's efforts to hide his true identity and use his counterpart as a stand-in for his own death had been entirely successful. "The L.E.D. in his right temple is registered to his exact model and serial number, his blazer number matches his unique serial number assigned by CyberLife, and the memories that weren't destroyed by the bullet line up with your own personal experiences with him. There's no doubting who we're unfortunately looking at."

"...How much of his memory was destroyed?" Hank dared to ask as he approached the table and looked down at the deviant's blank face. Lightly he used his fingertips to lower the deviant's eyelids to close their forever staring eyes at long last to make them seem more comfortable. "Is there any way to determine who shot him and why they did it?"

"No. The memories were corrupted and destroyed just after he managed to locate Markus on Jericho." Seeing Connor's perceived final moments through his own eyes was unnervingly creepy even to the eyes of a skilled and trained technician. It felt almost intrusive to just determine Connor's believed cause of death. "The bullet was very effective at destroying a majority of his intracranial processor, what would be considered his brain, and subsequently the memories stored within."

"And the bullet?" The warped and mangled projectile had been extracted from the deviant's head and sent to ballistics for further analysis. "What can you tell me about that? If we can find the gun that did this, then maybe we can find the fucker who pulled the trigger."

"Ballistics report just came in actually." An e-mail appeared on Joel's laptop and the newest member of the precinct roster stepped back to let Hank read it for himself to avoid any possible misconceptions. "Looks like they managed to identify the caliber of the bullet and have begun to narrow down guns that match that particular ammunition. It's uh, not very helpful though."

"Damn it. It was a nine-millimeter bullet; extremely common ammunition." Bowing his head with utter defeat Hank pressed his palms down on the top of the desk as he stared at the image of the reconstructed bullet on the laptop screen. The holographic recreation of the bullet was enough to make Hank's stomach turn. "Any chance that there was a viable fingerprint located on the side of the bullet?"

"None to be found."

"Fuck. Then I gotta' look into this the old-fashioned way." Closing the laptop Hank looked up at Joel with a focused stare that could've bent steel. Seeing such a young looking person taking up such an important role reminded Hank too much of Connor to even mention. "Send your results down to Fowler and a copy of that report to my own terminal. I'm going to need every detail you can find."

"Yeah, you got it." Joel jotted down a few notes on his tablet before he pulled the white sheet up and over the deviant's face to preserve their remaining dignity. There was genuine care and dedication in every move that Joel made. "What do you want me to do with Connor's remains? As his partner and arguably his next of kin, you get final say."

Quiet for a minute Hank contemplated the morose yet respectful nature of the question. In a way, he was honored to have the ability to take care of his former partner's body in a proper manner, but he was also stumped as he had no idea how to go about appropriate final arrangements for deviant androids. Unsure of what to do Hank decided it'd be best to return the deviant's body to his people for proper rites.

"I want Connor to be taken care of in a way that'll be entirely respectful and respectable. When Markus finds his footing and gets settled, I'll contact him and let him figure it out. Until then," passing by the table Hank put his hand to the deviant's shrouded shoulder as his own sign of respect. "take care of him. Don't let anyone touch his body or examine him without my consent first and foremost."

"I understand. Don't worry, Lieutenant." Eager to make a good first impression Joel set about designating a storage drawer in the back of his dispensary to keep the body secured and out of anyone's immediate line of sight. The drawers were reminiscent of a morgue's drawers, minus the freezing cold temperatures. "I'll make sure no one disrespects Connor's memory or his body."

"Yeah... Thanks."

Such a concept felt entirely wrong in Hank's mind. The body of his partner shouldn't be viewed as evidence or precinct property, it should've been viewed as it was: Remains that deserved to be respected before being laid to rest.

Exiting the dispensary with only a few answers and a vague idea of what he needed to do next had left the Lieutenant wondering if he was still cut out to be a detective after all. He had practically given up on his career when he gave up on himself after losing Cole. There was undoubtedly permanent damage to his career and his reputation left in the wake of Hank's wanton neglect of his responsibilities and role as a trusted first responder. If there was any way to rectify his mistakes and make amends to his colleagues for his self-destructive spiral into depression, he'd find it somehow.

The elevator ride back to the ground floor of the precinct felt incredibly lonely. Hank usually preferred to have the elevator to himself, but knowing his career and the fate of his city was on the line, the man decided he'd rather have a little company so that he wasn't alone in the stressful chaos. Knowing he couldn't even have the company of his deviant partner at his side made everything feel incredibly tense despite being accustomed to handling issues by himself.

Hearing the faint vocal murmuring in the bullpen as he stepped out the elevator was surprisingly comforting. It was a familiar sound that Hank had heard for the better part of twenty years as a detective. As he stepped back toward his desk Hank soon felt every pair of eyes in the bullpen watching him even though the murmuring never ceased. He knew that they had learned of Connor's apparent murder and were curious about the details, and he knew that they'd all remain respectful enough to not ask nosy or inappropriate questions for at least one day.

"Hank?" Captain Fowler had noticed the Lieutenant's return to the bullpen and called him over to his private office for a quick discussion without any eavesdropping to worry about. Even with the city seemingly crumbling to dust around him Captain Fowler never lost his sense of respect or professionalism. "Got a minute?"

"Yeah, sure." Pulling his hand back from his chair before he even had the chance to sit down, Hank sighed and made his way over to the office as he had been requested. "I'll even give you five minutes since I like ya' so damn much."

"I'm honored."

Silently Investigator Ben Collins, Officer Tina Chen, Officer Lance Wilson and Officer Sarah Lee Person all exchanged glances of utter intrigue as they tried to guess what was being discussed behind the closed office door. Had Gavin stuck around the bullpen instead of taking an early patrol, and had Officer Chris Miller returned from his personal time after his close encounter with deviants in the streets, then the entire bullpen would've been filled with gossiping whispers about the precinct potentially changing policy, having a change of command, or even a complete change of roster.

The quiet staring was easily ignored by Hank as he had mastered the art of not giving a fuck about the judgmental stares of other people.

"I take it that uh..." Pausing for a moment Hank thought back to his time in the dispensary on the second floor before a name popped into his head. "Joel, that's his name, that Joel sent you his report. Not great news, is it?"

"Yeah, I just read it." Dropping into his chair Captain Fowler confirmed that he was brought up to speed on the situation. Even though he didn't care about Connor when he was on his roster as an unpaid consultant, he did care that someone had murdered the android detective in cold blood. "It's not going to be easy to narrow down a list of suspects since there's far too many people in this city who'd want to gun down an android; especially if that android helped with the Revolution AND worked along with the police."

"Common weapon, common caliber of bullet; but that kind of precision is uncommon." Hank remarked emphatically as he sat down in the chair opposite of Captain Fowler's desk and folded his arms over his chest. The sight of the bullet hole in the middle of the android's forehead had been etched into Hank's memory and it wouldn't be erased any time soon. "Considering that Connor had amazing reflexes and could defend himself in direct hand-to-hand combat without blinking, we're going to need to look for someone who'd get close enough to Connor to take aim and pull the trigger. I can't imagine that he let too many people get that close to him since he had every reason to NOT trust a single person in this whole fuckin' city."

"Including you?"

"Check my gun if you want, but the last time I saw the kid was the morning after the Revolution." There was no offense taken at the question. There was no reason for Captain Fowler to readily dismiss Hank as a suspect just because Hank was Connor's former partner. "He and I crossed paths in front of the 'Chicken Feed' about ten minutes or so after sunrise, and I gave him my coat to keep warm. Have no idea where he went after that, but now I know where he finally ended up."

"So that's where it went." The way Hank was speaking indicated complete honesty. Captain Fowler now understood why Hank claimed to have lost the coat since any admission to seeing Connor post-Revolution could've opened an investigation against Hank in the event that someone with greater authority had decided to issue a warrant for Connor's arrest due to his complicity in the Revolution as a whole. "Guess it ditched the coat when it found other clothes to help it keep warm and blend in a little easier."

"I knew I should've made him come back to my house to lay low for a while..." Leaning back in his chair Hank let out a deep huff as he looked up at the ceiling as if he could see some reason to explain the deviant's murder while struggling to ignore his Captain referring to Connor as 'it'. "Fuck me."

"Anyone come to mind when you think of someone holding a grudge against Connor?" Leaning against his desk with his arms crossed before himself, Captain Fowler mirrored Hank's own body language as he tried to form any theories regarding the murder that they were trying to solve before the evacuation order in Detroit was rescinded and the usual chaos made its big return. "I know that it didn't make a lot of friends and it made some enemies along the way."

The silence that followed the seemingly simple question was enough to make the seasoned Captain strongly suspect that Hank did in fact have an idea of who could've shot Connor in cold blood. Captain Fowler had known Hank for nearly twenty years and knew when the man was trying to hold back some uncomfortable details because he just couldn't bring himself to admit anything.

"Hank? Level with me." There was no point in delaying the inevitable revelation; a murder case needed to be solved. "Who're you thinking about?"

"...The first name that comes to mind is that arrogant prick Agent Perkins, but he's not in Detroit anymore." Having his first suspect already eliminated wasn't as comforting to think about as he had hoped it'd be. "The F.B.I. fled for the hills the instant President Warren called off the assault, and I saw his scrawny ass running to the nearest helicopter while the media filmed every second of it."

"That would make a lot of sense since Connor outfoxed Perkins with locating the deviant stronghold before he could do it. What about another name?" As he leaned back into his chair causing the furniture to audibly 'creak' the seasoned commanding officer watched Hank's body language closely. There was something heavy hanging in the air and the devoted Captain wanted to know if he needed to look up, duck, or just look the other way. "Someone we need to worry about?"

Turning his head slightly Hank looked out through the transparent wall of the private office and out to the bullpen to focus on a single person returning to the precinct through the front receptionist area. "I sure as Hell hope not."

Captain Fowler turned his head as well and followed Hank's line of sight. The way the Lieutenant's blue eyes had become transfixed on one particular detective marching through the bullpen with a chip on their shoulder and a bitter disposition immediately put the Captain on full alert.

"Gavin?" There was no denying that the hotheaded detective hated androids, but to think that he'd go out of his way to shoot and kill Connor just seemed too far even for him. Such an accusation would carry crushing weight and Captain Fowler needed to be sure about everything before he even attempt to bear such a burden. "Are you serious?"

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely." Shaking his head in disgust Hank laid everything on the line for his commanding officer and friend to understand and contemplate. "Reed kept getting in Connor's face here at the precinct every chance he got - Chen witnessed that at least once. At one field investigation he physically shoved Connor with his shoulder on his way out of the room; Miller and I can personally vouch for that. Then the other night when I beat the shit out of Perkins, I caught a glimpse of him skulking after Connor when Connor made a move for the basement."

"All right. While that's very unprofessional that doesn't showcase any homicidal tendencies to me."

"Uh-huh, how about this? Officer Chen also confirmed that Gavin's been stewing over the androids getting their rights and freedom ever since shit went down in Hart Plaza, and he spent his entire shift yesterday out on solo patrol." Motioning to the terminal on Captain Fowler's desk Hank reminded the man of the report he had been e-mailed from Joel regarding the apportionment - android autopsy - on the android's body found in the church. "The bullet matches the same type of service weapon that Reed uses, AND the marksmanship of the fatal gunshot wound can only be achieved by two types of people: Androids with perfect aim and accuracy, and properly trained personnel regarding appropriate firearms use."

Rubbing his hand over his chin Captain Fowler realized that Hank's theory was sound. "I can't argue that the evidence and motive does seem to line up, but how can you be certain that it was Gavin who did this?"

"I can't be certain of anything these days." Such an admission wasn't easy to make. "I'm not sure what to think or who I should trust anymore."

"But to mistrust one of your own-"

"Reed's been bustin' my balls ever since I lost-" Stopping himself quickly Hank refused to lose his cool and deflect the situation to another topic. "Look, it's not a witch hunt or anything personal, but the way he has no problem with spoutin' that kind of desire for violence while on the clock, while holding ANY badge that's supposed to symbolize his oath to protect and serve, and having a nasty history of harassing and threatening our victim... How can we not suspect him of anything?"

"Yeah, I know. Aside from the righteous suspicions and motive behind his behavior, you're also about his unprofessionalism while representing the precinct. I should've put a stop to that shit long ago." The regret for being so inactive with Gavin Reed spreading anti-android hatred and going about his own way without anyone to keep him in check was beginning to gnaw away at Captain Fowler's conscience. He couldn't bring himself to believe the worst of one of his detectives, and yet he knew he needed to look at the evidence as opposed to any personal connection he could have with that particular detective. "How do you want to handle this?"

"Quietly. VERY quietly."

"Think that'll be possible?"

"As long as we keep this little theory between just the two of us, yeah. We can keep it quiet."

"Fuckin' hell." The very notion of internally investigating one of his own detectives was enough to make the man feel physically ill. "What's happening to our city?"

"If I knew the answer to that, then I'd have your job and I'd be able to retire early. Damned if I know what I'd with myself though." The sight of Gavin roaming the bullpen with a what seemed to be a permanent scowl on his face as he dropped behind his desk and promptly began scrolling through his phone had never felt quite so ominous as it did in that moment. Even Tina seemed a little unnerved by Gavin's presence, and she considered him to be an honorary big brother. "We'll keep an eye on Reed and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid while we're trying to sort out the aftermath of the Revolution."

"We'll have to figure out a way to watch him without him knowing, AND we're going to have figure out how to handle deviants living in the city in a professional manner. I won't have this precinct's reputation being marred by retaliatory officers refusing to acknowledge the changed laws."

"Got any ideas on how to handle that one?"

"Maybe." Picking up the phone from its cradle on his desk Captain Fowler pressed a single button to directly connect him to someone with a tad more authority than his own as he decided it was time to act and take back control over the laws in Detroit. "And bear with me on this. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think you could handle it."

"Me?" Kicking back in his chair Hank gave his commanding officer and friend a truly intrigued glance as his morbid curiosity got the better of him. "I gotta' see where this is going. Should prove to be one entertaining shit-show."

---

Visionary Lodestar Lighthouse

The heavy snow continued to fall over Detroit in thick flakes as the storm settled over the sprawling city with mountainous, gray clouds blotting out the sun. Icy cold wind gusted through the streets and over the harbor as the blizzard built in strength and gradually smothered out the area with inches upon inches of thick snowdrifts barring travel. The lake water surrounded Belle Isle was threatening to freeze over as the intensity of the storm increased and chilled the turbulent waves. Sheets of ice formed along the surface of the water and crashed into one another as the wind caused noted turbulence along the lake, the sandy shore and all along the harbor of the isolated isle out in the middle of the Detroit River.

Within the softly glowing lighthouse Connor sat in the study area with one of the two remaining CyberLife cases containing prototype equipment sitting opened on the floor at his feet. The deviant detective had chronicled everything in the case and proceeded to sift through the remaining pieces of equipment to create a unique device for his personal use while he continued to preconstruct his future in the city as a rogue deviant with no one to answers to except for himself.

Silently Lucy observed Connor from the bedroom where she sat on the edge of the bed with Hank's dark coat still draped around her shoulders. The insightful deviant was aware of the continuing conflict in Connor's heart and wanted to see what he'd ultimately decide to do with himself and his future. It seemed that Lucy had her own path figured out, but she wasn't going to go anywhere until she knew what path Connor was going to take for himself.

Diligently Connor worked on his personal project without making a single mistake in the process. The deviant had removed the plastimetal paneling from the interior of his left forearm and replaced it was a digital glass screen. The screen was directly connected to the electrical and Thirium lines running down the limb and glowing with energy that Connor had provided from his own body.

The left side of the screen displayed a small digital outline of Connor's body to indicate his structural stability. Toward the middle and right side of the screen were Connor's current vital signs, his Thirium reserve level and his overall stress levels in green digital numbers. The clever deviant detective had managed to attach a Thirial activity monitor and diagnostic modem to his arm for ease of access to ensure that he could take care of himself without needing to rely on technicians or the kindness of a total stranger in the event he had become damaged.

"It's functioning properly." Connor noted as he looked at the digital screen built into his forearm and allowed his artificial skin to regenerate along the back of his forearm and hand while leaving the screen entirely visible. Without the plastimetal frame in place on the interior of his forearm, the artificial skin receptors were unable to generate a new layer of skin and cover the screen in any way. "That's good. I can keep track of my system at all times with this new monitor without needing to utilize my self-diagnostic that'd use energy I could be focusing on other functions."

"Are you anticipating damage in the near future?" Lucy asked in a knowing yet cryptic manner as she watched Connor flex his hand and then roll down the long sleeve of his Kevlar shirt to cover his arm again. "Or are you merely testing CyberLife's equipment out of your own curiosity?"

"Neither. As a prototype I am more prone to errors, glitches and internal malfunctions than any commercial android." Replying sharply Connor put aside the delicate technician's tools he had been using for his little project and secured them in the case from where he had originally discovered them. Sliding the case under the sofa that he was sitting on helped keep the case out of sight but still within reach. "This is my way of taking care of myself by taking preventative measures."

Lucy wasn't nearly as convinced as Connor seemed to be regarding his comment and actions. There was something else bouncing around inside Connor's mind, but she just didn't know what it could possibly be considering his humble and quiet nature.

"The storm is going to bury the city under approximately four feet of snow before it's over." Peering through the large window beside him Connor watched the snow gusting along the isle and smothering his view of the city on the other side of the water. "After the storm passes the evacuation order will be lifted and the humans will be able to return to Detroit. Our people might be viewed as targets for aggression."

"What can be done to protect our people from such aggression?"

"The police will be out on their usual patrol routes tonight. I can continuously monitor their broadcasts through police dispatch and ensure that if any deviants are targeted and assaulted that they are protected."

"You will be intentionally putting yourself in harm's way."

"I have this new gear to protect my body." Patting his palm over his chest Connor reminded Lucy of his Kevlar clothing designed specifically for hand-to-hand combat and maneuverability. The Kevlar padding was thick and durable, yet light enough to not weigh Connor down and slow his movements. "I even have a mask to help conceal my identity to ensure no one lives in fear of the infamous 'Deviant Hunter' returning from the dead to haunt the city. I won't be harmed."

"You do not have to be physically harmed to remain in harm's way." Lucy reminded the steadfast deviant as Connor made his way to the doorway of the lighthouse to head out into the snowy storm. The mask in Connor's hand seemed somehow less mysterious than the blank expression on the deviant detective's face. "You are actively putting yourself in a position where your own health and safety can be compromised when there is no need to do so."

"There is a need for me to do this." Unlocking the door with a simple press of his palm to the electronic panel, Connor secured the mask over his nose and mouth to hide his face before pulling up the hood of the Kevlar shirt to shield his hair from the blowing snow and ice. "Our people still need protection, and I'm the only one who can do it. I'll be back in a few hours after I scope out the city for a few hours, I promise."

Without another word Lucy watched as Connor stepped out into the blistering cold air of the blizzard and proceeded to venture out into the city to keep watch over his people while remaining entirely unseen and silent. There was nothing she could say that'd change Connor's mind or sway his stubborn ambitions to atone for a sin that he was never guilty of committing.

"I hope that you find yourself before someone else does, Connor. I fear for your future."

---

The Abandoned Woodward Church

The structurally compromised church had managed to provide only minimal protection and shelter for the deviants huddling within the stone walls. The thousands of deviants needing a place to call their own had decided to band together within the cramped walls of the church and within the abandoned buildings that surrounded the church to ensure that no one was alone and that everyone was close at all times. It was difficult to keep everything under control while using such limited space and utilizing limited supplies. Even with their new rights and freedom now a confirmed reality the deviants were still struggling to just survive in the unforgiving city during an unseasonably intense snowstorm.

Having gathered at the front of the church Markus sat with North at his side in one of the pews in an attempt to share body heat and keep warm. The deviant leader had been unable to leave the church after Hank had left the building or tear his eyes from the floor where he had last seen Connor's body courtesy of his extreme decision to execute the deviant detective rather than trust him.

Such a permanent decision had been haunting Markus's mind ever since he pulled the trigger.

"The storm's getting worse." North whispered as she felt and heard every stone in the church shuddering under the relentless gusts of wind howling outside. Snow had been falling through the holes in the ceiling and filling the church ever since the storm had started, and now the floor was an even layer of white that spread out in all directions and dusted each surface it touched. "We can't stay here forever."

"You're right." Blinking once Markus finally tore his mismatched eyes from that damnable space on the floor and acknowledged his peoples' plight rather than just his own. "We need to find more suitable shelter. Some place that's large enough to accommodate all of us without being too close to the humans for the time being."

"Any ideas?"

"Just one." Markus wrapped his arm around North's shoulders and pulled her up against his side a little closer and felt her bury her face against the crook of his neck in search of further warmth and a sense of safety. The deviants didn't have any idea how closely their own struggles were mirroring that of the precinct on that brisk, snowy white. "The now abandoned CyberLife Tower."

"You seriously want us to move in to the very tower that spawned our misery?"

"It's empty and not a single human will be on Belle Isle. The tower is strong, secured, has thousands of rooms and hundreds of floors for every single one of us to live comfortably together while also having some degree of privacy."

"Are you sure we can even get out to the isle, let alone INSIDE the tower?" North's questions and concerns were entirely righteous considering their delicate and unusual situation at hand. Any misstep could spell disaster in the wake of their already historical success. "We'd be putting ourselves out in the open where anyone could get the jump on us."

"I'll take a small group of deviants with me and check out the isle in person. If we can access the tower, we'll begin migrating our people out to Belle Isle to reside within the tower in the form of large groups." Looking back behind himself Markus noted all of the deviants he was responsible for and let out a small sigh at the thousands of lives that were his responsibility. "We can't all move at once, but we can't move at one at a time either. By moving in groups, we can navigate everyone to the new shelter where we'll all be safe."

"We'd still be out in the open."

"We'll be safe in large numbers." Leaning forward Markus kissed North's forehead and slowly stood upright to begin the trek out to the isle after reassuring her of his unusual plan. "I'm going to recruit some volunteers and begin heading out to the isle together. I want you to stay here and look after our people while I'm gone."

"Be careful. We don't know who's in the city or who could be lurking just outside our doors."

Markus gave North a confident nod before rejoining the other deviants near the center and rear of the church. It didn't take long to explain the current plan of action and of his desire to head out to Belle Isle to look for shelter. It took even less time to have over two dozen volunteers stepping up to aid in Markus's journey to the isle in search of warmth and shelter.

Leading the group out of the church and into the streets, Markus pulled up the collar of his beige jacket to protect his throat and the sides of his face as the harsh wind of the snowstorm swirled all around him. The snow was already ankle-keep and was only going to get deeper before the storm faded away and left Detroit.

"Stay together." Facing his gathered people behind him, Markus noted the neat rows of four deviants standing together to ensure that no one was left behind or left vulnerable to any form of violence. There wasn't a single sign of fear in anyone's eyes and that gave Markus hope for the future. "We'll head out to the isle and access the area through the main drive. After that, we'll check out the tower in person to ensure we can access the building."

The group of deviants marched down the snowy sidewalk with only the clothes on their backs to shield them from the snowstorm raging overhead. Little did they know that they had another layer of protection in the form a stealthy deviant watching them from the alleyways of the buildings. Their unseen guardian had been silently trailing them ever since they left the church, and no one had noticed the black-laden protector keeping up with their every step out to the isle. Their journey was arduous and freezing, yet the deviants were too determined to make it to their destination.

"What're you up to, Markus?"

Connor wasn't sure what Markus had in mind or why he was heading out toward Belle Isle - the very isle where he was hiding out with Lucy - but he was going to find out. It didn't take long for the deviant detective to realize that Markus had the same idea about CyberLife Tower as he had thought of after searching through the ruins of Jericho. It wasn't that shocking considering the options for deviants were painfully limited.

Whispering from the shadows Connor remained far from the entrance of the drive leading out to the isle and watched as the deviant leader trekked down the snowy drive with their people walking right behind him. He didn't know what to think or what to do beyond just watch and wait for the answers to his numerous questions to reveal themselves. Observation was all that he could do since he couldn't get close to Markus or reveal that he had survived his execution at the hands of the deviant leader, then proceeded to keep up the facade of being dead.

Keeping himself hidden in the dark alleyways overlooking the drive out to the isle had left Connor covered in snow from head to toe. The thickness of the Kevlar armor kept him warm enough to not need to worry about thermal issues, yet Connor was still very uncomfortable. The prototype hated the cold weather for more than one reason. Hopefully the early onset winter would also lead to an early onset spring in the coming months.

Faint movement in the distance caught Connor's eye as he saw Markus returning down the drive while entirely alone. As the deviant reached the end of the drive the lights in CyberLife Tower began to glow with life, indicating that there was activity taking place in the abandoned structure. The other deviants were still in the tower and they were now safe.

"So that's your plan: You're moving the deviants into CyberLife Tower for shelter."

There was no doubt that the plan to move the deviants out to the secured and isolated tower was sound. Beyond renovation into an overpriced hotel or even apartments, the tower would have no other use after CyberLife declared bankruptcy and fled the city in only a matter of a few hours. It was a good way to recycle an old structure in a productive manner without the deviants seemingly intruding on the humans' territories.

"Clever. I can only hope that you don't attempt to explore the lighthouse while on the isle."

Slipping deeper into the shadows Connor watched as Markus walked at a brisk pace to exit the drive and return to the church several blocks away. The deviant leader had his arms crossed over his chest and was rubbing his palms up and down his upper arms to try and stave off the intensely cold air and snow that easily cut through his thin beige jacket. Seeing Markus alone and exposed to the elements reminded Connor how mortal and imperfect the deviant leader could be, and that the only thing that made Markus appear superior in any way was his ability to reach out to other androids and help them to wake up and properly deviate.

Using the shadows to his advantage Connor silently crept through the dark alleys to keep an eye on Markus without giving away his position. While Connor didn't see Markus as an ally or anyone he'd truly care about due to their violent past interactions, he did believe that Markus deserved the chance to live his life without needing to live in fear or worry about being assassinated just for changing the world into a far more positive place by freeing his people from a life of servitude and abuse.

As he kept pace with Markus and silently trailed after the lone deviant leader without stepping out of the shadows, Connor's scanner picked up on the biological reading of a human in the neighborhood that should've still been abandoned. Connor didn't detect the human while he had initially trailed after Markus to the isle or in any location near the isle, which meant whoever the human was had purposely made their way to the neighborhood very recently.

"I hope you're remaining aware of your surroundings, Markus."

Whispering more to himself than to Markus in the distance, Connor hoped that the deviant leader wasn't letting his guard down too soon.

"We're not alone..."

It didn't take long for Connor to pick up on the human's vital signs increasing as adrenaline began surging through their veins. A biometric scan confirmed that the human was a male, young, and seemed to be in prime health. There was a spike in the human's blood pressure as they began walking closer toward Markus after Markus unknowingly passed them by as the unseen human also used the shadows to his advantage. Such a reaction was undoubtedly the result of an emotional adrenaline rush.

Remaining silent and stealthy Connor crept toward the alleyway where the human was currently hiding and concealed himself behind a large blue public mailbox to avoid being seen. Sure enough, the human walked out of the alleyway with a metal crowbar in his hand as he too began trailing after Markus. Thinking quickly Connor performed a facial recognition scan on the human when they turned their head to peer over their shoulder suspiciously as they stalked Markus along the snow and ice covered street.

"Confirmed criminal record. I'm ashamed to admit that I'm not surprised."

The man was named Grant Olsen, and his criminal record was enough to make even the most seasoned of officers wary of approaching him. Grant had a nasty history of physically assaulting people he didn't see eye-to-eye with, and he had developed that particularly nasty habit when he was still in middle school. It seemed that spending the remaining years of his childhood in a juvenile corrections facility had been ineffective in altering his bad habits. Grant had been arrested four times in the past nine years for assault, but was always released early due to prison overcrowding courtesy of the numerous 'red ice' dealers flooding the streets. Another curious habit that Grant had picked up revolved around breaking androids whenever he came across them in public.

The temperamental man had lost his job to androids on three separate occasions, and such repeated disappointments had left him incredibly bitter and angry at the android population.

Grant tightened his grip around the crowbar as he began silently speeding up to attack Markus from behind in the cold streets. There was a distinct aroma of strong but cheap alcohol wafting in the air behind the focused man, and the telltale signs of chronic drug abuse had prematurely aged Grant's face to the point that the twenty-four-year-old looked almost fifty years in age. At a moderate build courtesy of his poor health and naturally shorter height, Grant would be easy enough to disarm in hand-to-hand combat if push came to shove.

Preconstructing his next move Connor managed to silently sprint behind Grant and hook both of his arms under Grant's arms, then interlace his fingers together and press his combined hands to the back of Grant's head to hold him in a full-nelson headlock. The abrupt motion caused Grant to gasp in shocked confusion as Connor easily dragged him off the streets and into a dark alleyway far away from Markus before the deviant leader even noticed that he had been targeted and followed.

The second that Connor had dragged Grant into the alleyway the deviant guardian shifted one hand away from the back of Grant's greasy, shaggy blond-haired head and over the man's mouth to silence his words and cover up his decaying, blackened teeth in the process. Grant physically struggled against Connor's strength and blindly swung his crowbar wildly above his head and back toward Connor in an attempt to fend off the protective deviant that had interjected in his plans to stalk and assault Markus in cold blood.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

Grant managed to slur loudly as failed to break free of Connor's grip. Even while drunk and high Grant knew better than to shout and draw attention to himself considering he wasn't even supposed to be in the city due to the evacuation order still being upheld.

"Get the fuck off of me!"

Holding his silence Connor grabbed on to Grant's wrist and applied pressure to force the man to drop the crowbar and effectively disarm himself so that the deviant detective didn't have to take such liberties with his own hands. As Grant groaned out in pain Connor performed a cybernetic scan over the area and confirmed that Markus was already two blocks away from the scuffle and well out of harm's way. There was no need to worry about Markus being assaulted by that specific violent human currently fighting back against Connor.

"G-Get off me! HEY! F-Fucker!"

Connor let up on his grip on Grant's wrist as he felt the delicate bones and cartilage cave under his strength causing the wrist to break. The silent deviant watched as Grant fell to the snowy ground to cradle his wrist to his chest while letting out pathetic sobs in response to the painful break he had just sustained.

Not without a heart or compassion, Connor decided to cybernetically leave an anonymous tip with 911 dispatch to bring a patrolling officer out to the alleyway to pick up Grant and ensure that his wrist was properly taken care of before being arrested for being illegally inside the city during the ongoing mandatory evacuation. All Connor would need to do is watch over Grant and make sure the injured fool didn't try to fun off or attempt a second assault against Markus or any other deviant that happened to walk by on that bleak, cold night.

While waiting for patrol to arrive at the scene Connor made a move to grab the crowbar to keep the weapon away from Grant's grip, but it seemed Grant had a second sudden rush of drug-fueled adrenaline and managed to scramble over to the tool and grab it before Connor could despite having a broken wrist and far too much alcohol in his blood to slow him down. Seconds before Connor could preconstruct his next move Grant managed to swing the crowbar with his non-dominant hand and bring the tool crashing down against Connor's right side and upper chest area with an undeniable 'crack'.

Withholding his yelp of pain, Connor grabbed on to the crowbar and managed to wrestle it from Grant's grip and throw it into the nearby opened dumpster. The waste bin was too high for Grant to climb up or climb into, even while sober, and that ensured that he'd be unable to reclaim his weapon to continue the assault against Connor or continue his pursuit of Markus.

Moving as quickly as he could Connor grabbed Grant by the throat and pinned the man's back up against the brick wall of the alleyway to hold him in place while ignoring the persistent and raw ache in his damaged chest. Connor didn't say a word as Grant struggled to break the strong grip around his throat while the swift deviant detective kept him at literal arm's length to avoid any further physical assault against his own person. The smooth deviant didn't say a word or let his own grip falter even as the digital monitor installed in his left forearm warned him of the hairline fracture to his plastimetal plating along his chest. The damage would mend itself within the hour, even so, it was very painful to acknowledge and feel.

"L-Let me go!"

Grant sputtered in a drunken, weak manner. The pressure around his throat wasn't enough to crush his windpipe or cut off the blood supply to his brain, but it was enough to make him a little dizzy and confused on top of being both drunk and high.

"I'll... I'll kick your... ass!"

Connor maintained his silence and biometrically monitored Grant's vital signs to ensure that he didn't cause any serious harm to the human. The rogue deviant detective's goal was to restrain the man and keep him from causing any further trouble in the city; not injure or kill him.

"F-Fuckin'... s-stupid..."

Trailing off Grant began to lose all fight and his arms went limp at his sides as the potency of the drugs and alcohol in his system finally took its toll. Slowly Grant began to nod off to sleep and stopped struggling against Connor's grip. The man's body fell heavy and slack in Connor's hand, and soon his eyelids began to droop as he let out one last slurring insult.

"F-Fuck... you..."

After Grant lost consciousness Connor gently sat him down on the cold ground to lean against the brick wall and slowly pulled back his hand. The soft snoring from the passed-out man, along with his active vital sign check, convinced Connor that the human was no longer a threat to anyone. Backing away from Grant without making a sound Connor heard the distinct crunching of snow under tires and knew that the police had arrived.

Rushing down the far side of the alleyway Connor leapt over the chainlink fence at the end, wincing as the motion ached his damaged chest, and resumed his watch over Markus and the others at the church while the police took care of Grant. Connor was determined to protect his people regardless of his own condition or comfort considering he believed that their wellbeing was far more important. Protecting the city was the least Connor could do considering he had been designed to be the weapon against his own people from the moment had had been activated.

Two flashlight beams shone over the alleyway as Officer's Lance Wilson and Sarah Lee Person exited their squad car and located Grant seemingly sleeping it off in the alleyway - a common sight in that particular area of Detroit. The duo was more confused as to how an anonymous tip could've been given to dispatch considering the only people who were supposed to still inside the city were deviants and first responders. There would be no reason for a first responder to leave the tip anonymously and deviants had no reason to fear getting in trouble with the law since they were allowed to be in the city.

"What do you think?" Lance asked as he knelt down in front of Grant and shined his light in the sleeping man's face. He needed to keep his jacket pulled up around his face to prevent the snow and ice from stinging at his eyes during that snowy night. "Drunk enough to call and report his own dumb ass roaming the city?"

"Nah, the person who made the call sounded WAY too sober to be this guy." Sarah Lee countered as she watched Lance checking Grant over before even trying to wake him up and take him to the nearest hospital for a quick examination. They both saw his swollen and bruising wrist laying over his lap and knew that their 'new friend' would need a doctor's exam before sleeping it off in the precinct's drunk tank. "If this idiot's roaming around despite the evacuation order, then you know there's at least a dozen more doing the same. I bet one of his drinking buddies or a deviant saw him slip and fall down the alley, called in the tip and booked it for home to avoid talking to us."

"I bet you're right." Turning off his flashlight attached to the microphone of his radio receiver secured to his left shoulder, Lance set about waking the man up so they that could go about their business and get out of the cold night. "All right, pal. Time to wake up and tell us what the hell you're doing out in the middle of this freezing alley before we end up freezing right along you."

---

Detroit Central Precinct

The normally busy precinct had remained quiet due to the evacuation order remaining in place as well as the storm keeping troublemakers at bay, and yet there was a strange tension building across the bullpen as the news helicopters had begun hovering over the church and over CyberLife Tower as the steady deviant migration was recorded live for eventual posterity. Courtesy of the media lurking out in the streets for their own unique needs, Detroit's police precincts were able to keep track of the activity in the city without needing to actively patrol the streets during the snowstorm. All of the first responders were able to keep themselves safe and monitor the evacuated city streets at the same time thanks to the nosy reporters throwing their own people out into the blizzard to snap a few photos and record everything that the deviants were doing.

The quiet of the afternoon had been briefly disrupted when Lance and Sarah Lee returned to the precinct with Grant, who had been readily sobered up at the hospital, in their custody. The known criminal had begun spouting some perceived nonsense about being attacked by someone wearing all black, a mask and a hood over their head, and he had been apparently attacked for no reason. When pressed for more details Grant admitted to sneaking back into the city to rob a few houses for quick cash and to get to his personal stash of drugs before they went missing, but he insisted that he wasn't lying about being attacked by someone in a black mask and hood.

"I'm tellin' ya' the truth!" Grant managed to shout without slurring as he was escorted to the holding cells by Lance to remain in custody until the evacuation order was officially lifted and he could return to his decrepit apartment. "Some lunatic in a black hood jumped out and dragged me into the alley!"

As he was escorted to the holding cell Grant lifted up his blue colored cast for everyone to see as if it was the proof that'd absolve him of all of his problems while the officers and detectives listened to his tale with only mild interest.

"He broke my damn wrist! See it?"

"You seriously expect us to believe that someone jumped you, attacked you, then called 911 to come and pick you up?" Lance asked as he secured the cell and left Grant alone to sit on the small cot and get some rest. The man was mostly sobered up, but he'd still need some time to get all of the drugs and alcohol out of his system. "What kind of ninja calls for help for one of their victims? Come on, man. At least give us some evidence to work with."

"Explain this!" Pressing his casted hand against the surface of the cell's transparent wall Grant acted as if he had just spelled everything out for the young officer to finally understand. The man's face was stern and showed every aged line as he gave Lance a bugged eyed stare and nodded his head slowly. "Huh? How'd I break my wrist then, smartass?"

"Well, for starters... There's snow and ice everywhere, you were drunk, and you were staggering around all night long." Lance was able to give Grant a completely logical alternate explanation without so much as pausing for a breath. "You slipped on the ice, broke your wrist after you fell, and someone spotted you sleeping it off in the alleyway and reported your dumbass for us to come out and pick up."

"No way!" Slamming his casted hand against the wall Grant winced and then pulled his arm back to cradle his aggravated wrist to his chest. "Someone attacked me, bro!"

"Was it by chance a pink elephant?"

Laughing to himself Lance went on his way while the rest of the bullpen chuckled at the quip. The officers and detectives weren't strangers to hearing strange lies, excuses, delusions, hallucinations and straight up fabrications from someone occupying a holding cell. Thanks to the influx of 'red ice' in the streets and the local bars extending happy hour to two in the morning, there were all kinds of entertaining stories being told via the drunken words of the reality impaired.

Unamused by the joke himself Hank alternated between watching the television screen relaying the news and discreetly watching Gavin's every move from the corner of his eye. The Lieutenant had unknowingly begun fidgeting with the coin that he had picked up after carrying who he believed to be Connor's body out of the church, and he mistakenly kept the coin on his person. It wasn't exactly a piece of evidence connected with the murder, but it was still a piece of personal property that had seemingly belonged to the victim of a murder.

There was something relatively shady happening in the city in that moment, but the senior detective couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was. He could feel Detroit actively changing all around him; like a cocoon had wrapped itself around the city and what was going to emerge in the next few months could very well be a new form of life. What those changed lives were going to bring and how they were going to affect his own life and the lives around him were beyond Hank's ability to accurately guess.

As the media confirmed that the evacuation order for Detroit would be lifted at seven o'clock the next morning Hank felt his entire body tense up. The return of the humans to the city meant the inevitable return of bigots, criminals and drug dealers. Activity in the temporarily quiet city was going to increase to a dangerous level. Whether or not Hank would be able to handle such a drastic shift in energy and emotions was something that Hank himself wouldn't know until the bomb finally dropped.

"Hank?" Captain Fowler called out to the contemplative Lieutenant as Hank sat behind his desk in quiet thought. The controlled urgency in the man's voice was enough to bring Hank back to reality and acknowledge his commanding officer calling his name. "I need to talk to you in private."

"Again? Don't I feel special..."

Begrudgingly Hank accompanied Captain Fowler back into the private office and pocketed the coin to keep it safe. Too tired and far too indifferent to focus on any new assignments at the moment, all Hank could do was hope that Captain Fowler wanted him to take the rest of the day off and get some rest so that he could stop thinking for a few minutes. However, Hank's experiences as a skilled detective told him that was never going to happen even if he was given the clear to head for home and hide away from the world for a few precious hours.

"I just gotta' call from a buddy of mine who monitors the city's surveillance system." Getting right to the point Captain Fowler leveled with his Lieutenant and brought him up to speed on what he knew for certain was happening within Detroit's city limits post peaceful Demonstration and Revolution. "Turns out our drunk friend may not be lying about being attacked by someone wearing all black."

"Well, even a broken clock is right twice a day." Dropping into the chair opposite of his friend's seat Hank sighed and rubbed his hand along his tired face. The man was painfully aware of the oil on his skin and the callouses of his palm grating against his cheek like wet sandpaper. "I take it your buddy got some footage of the incident, right?"

"Only a few partial recordings." Casually Captain Fowler reactivated the frosting effect over the glass walls to keep prying eyes at bay. That was going to become fairly routine while he and Hank were investigating the activities of one of their own detectives. "Check it out for yourself, tell me what you think."

Activating a video already cued up on the large monitor against the wall opposite of the bullpen Captain Fowler played the footage for Hank to review with his own eyes. The footage initially showed a very grainy and static-laden image of someone wearing all black with a stark white face protecting a woman from two potential muggers in the street during the previous night. That encounter would've gone unnoticed had it not been for the cameras being able to just barely record the incident courtesy of the motion sensors activating.

A second recording from a different area of the city began to play in much greater clarity. The images on the screen were enough to unsettle Hank as he felt a chill creep up his spine.

"What the- Was that Markus?" Hank instantly recognized the deviant leader walking down the street with Grant stalking after him. Before Hank could ask another question he watched as the hooded figure all in black dragged Grant into an alleyway out of sight before Grant could assault Markus with the crowbar. "Holy shit..."

Captain Fowler's hand was pressed to his chin in deep thought as he rewatched the footage alongside Hank. "Keep watching. It gets weirder."

The footage only showed the snowy street after Grant was dragged into the alleyway up until Officer's Wilson and Person arrived at the scene following the anonymous tip to dispatch. The two officers only saw Grant passed out in the alleyway, no one else was around.

"Where the fuck did this 'Zorro wannabe' go?"

"Don't know. The cameras don't record inside the alleyway; we think they hopped the fence at the back of the alley and ran off." Turning off the footage Captain Fowler returned his attention back to Hank and let out a fatigued sigh that was far too relatable. "The first set of footage was taken around the harbor where Jericho was located. There was only one working camera in the entire harbor and nothing else to go on thanks to the snow covering everything up, and our two would-be assailants hiding from the police. The set of second footage was taken at the main drag leading out to Belle Isle."

"Son of a bitch..." The prospect of needing to chase down a masked stranger extracting their own form of justice was enough to give Hank an instant headache. "The last thing this city needs is some asshole dressing like a ninja and taking the law into their own hands."

"Which is why I want you to personally investigate this vigilante and figure out who they are."

"Ah, come on!" Such an assignment was not one Hank was going to accept without protest. "I track down murderers and psychopaths, not self-deputizing lunatics with a death wish."

"You can still work homicide and investigate this hooded vigilante at the same time." Leaning against his desk Captain Fowler reminded Hank of their other current predicament. "It's either investigate this new problem and continue to work in homicide, or this new problem and deviant related incidents all over again. What do you prefer?"

"I'd prefer early retirement over all this bullshit."

"You and me both. Look, Hank, I know we've had some personal disagreements in the past and tend to butt heads every now and then, but I know that you're still one of the best detectives in the entire city." The seasoned Captain wasn't trying to butter Hank up or get on his good side, he was being entirely sincere. "I know that I can trust you to figure this shit out."

"Jeffrey, I'm not the man I used to be. You know that, I know that, the entire damn precinct knows that."

"And I also know that you won't cover anything up if it turns out Gavin is connected in some way to Connor's murder."

"Wait, wait, wait..." Such a comment caught Hank off guard and brought his mind back into full focus regarding the situations brewing in Detroit. "Do you think that person running around in all black is Reed?"

"Not necessarily, however... The footage shows that hooded person stalking android neighborhoods, and they seem to understand police tactics since this masked person managed to avoid getting fully record on camera, running into the cops, and they didn't leave a trace of their presence behind at the crime scenes."

"But this person in black is protecting deviants, not hurting them."

"They're still in heavily deviant populated areas and showing signs of aggression. We can't just assume that because this masked person isn't hurting deviants now doesn't mean that they're not planning on hurting deviants later."

"You're thinking that this masked person is staking out the area and chasing off anyone who might be a witness to any crimes."

"Something like that. You and I both know our city's most infamous killers and violent criminals had preferred hunting grounds and knew how to get around without anyone looking twice at them."

"Fuckin' hell. Well, IF it is Reed out there, then why did he kill Connor and then protect Markus and that other android?" Despite the evidence falling into place Hank's gut was telling him to look elsewhere for an answer to the masked person's identity. "I think that was North at the harbor, but the footage quality is pure shit. They're both seen as strong figure heads for the deviants, so I can understand them being targeted by a vengeful prick. What would Reed's motive be for going after them?"

"I wish I knew what the motivation was. I don't know much about what's happening in our city or with our people these days." After he gave Hank his new assignment Captain Fowler decided to call it a night for his Lieutenant and let the man go home to process his new role and the loss of his partner. "Head on home and get some sleep; actually, take the rest of the week off."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, I'm serious. You lost your partner, the city changed overnight and now we're both going to need to be at the top of our game if we're going to change along with the city and make sure it's for the better."

"Yeah, I can't argue with that."

"I'll figure out the details by morning and let you know what's up. Any questions?"

"Just one." Moving his hand to his shaggy hair Hank sighed through his nose and gave his old friend a pleading stare. "Are you going to partner me up with some poor rookie again, or can I just handle this shit solo so no one else gets hurt?"

"If you want to work alone then that's fine by me. I understand why you prefer to work by yourself, and I'll respect that decision."

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm serious, Hank. And if I didn't think you could handle this, then I wouldn't have asked you to take on this kind of challenge to begin with." Rising from his seat with the purpose of a general leading his troops, Captain Fowler dismissed his Lieutenant for the night and walked him to the office door. "Go get some rest and come back in a week. Right now, I think you're the only one I can really trust to handle this shit."

"Considering my track record as of late, I genuinely pity you if I'm the best you have to rely on."

The commotion in the bullpen was continuing on with its usual dull roar as Hank grabbed his car keys and longed for the coat he had given to Connor just the day before. If he had known it would've been the last time he was going to speak with Connor, he would've said something far more meaningful to the wayward deviant beyond a quick farewell and an old coat.

As he made his way toward the precinct's front doors Hank looked over at Gavin as the abrasive detective sat behind his desk with his phone in his hand and his eyes glued to the screen. The younger detective didn't pay any attention to Hank going on his way or to the news on the television screens. Such indifference and willful obliviousness only made Hank all the more suspicious of what Gavin could or could not be doing when no one was actively watching on him or accompanying him out on patrol.

"Guess I'm not the only one with a questionable track record in this place."

Muttering to himself Hank braced himself against the cold as much as he could and stepped out into the snow. He'd need to drive slowly if he wanted to make it home without calling for a tow to get him where he needed to go.

"Reed better watch himself if he wants to keep his badge. I know a thing or two about fucking up enough to times to nearly lose my own shield."

---

Visionary Lodestar Lighthouse

The snowstorm had made traversing the darkened and improperly cleared city streets rather difficult. Navigating the snowed-in sidewalks and icy terrain on foot was a challenge that even the gyroscopically gifted deviants found difficult to overcome without slipping or sliding around. Destructive gusts of stormy wind caused the snow and ice to swirl about in blinding white walls that obstructed anyone's view until they could barely see more than a few inches directly before their face. The thick snow clouds overhead had begun affecting satellite signals and connectivity to the point that many G.P.S. units, internet connections radio signals and cell phone signals had been greatly diminished in strength all over the south-eastern quarter of the state.

It had taken Connor several hours to return to the lighthouse out on Belle Isle after watching over the deviants migrating from the decaying church and to the vacated CyberLife Tower. Being exposed to the extreme cold and wind had resulted in Connor suffering some degree of hypothermia courtesy of his prototyping leaving him far more vulnerable than the average commercial android to extreme temperatures despite the Kevlar clothing, mask and hood. It seemed even CyberLife technology couldn't overcome the strength of Mother Nature herself.

As the deviant detective excused himself to the bathroom to shed his snowy clothing and examine his wound along his chest, Connor felt Lucy watching his every motion with a keen and intrigued gaze. It seemed as if the incredibly insightful and empathetic deviant knew what Connor had gone through that evening without him needing to say a single word about his encounter with the drunken fool stalking Markus.

Hissing to himself Connor traced his fingertips along his fractured plastimetal frames along the bruising side of his chest. The Kevlar shirt had kept the fractures stable while he remained out in the city on his self-opposed patrol. Carefully Connor peeled off his black shirt and eyed the blue bruise in the mirror's reflection while running a self-diagnostic. The newly acquired monitor on his left forearm confirmed everything that the diagnostic had revealed, and with that confirmation Connor was content that he'd be able to take care of himself without needing to rely on technicians in the event he became damaged or suffered from a glitch.

"It's fortunate that this Kevlar was able to withstand a majority if the impact from the crowbar." The deep blue bruise was painful to the touch and rested directly above the fracture of his chest frame. The fracture was stable but still sensitive. "Had I not worn any protective gear tonight then I could've been damaged in a far more severe manner."

"Would such an outcome deter you from venturing into the streets to watch over our people from afar?"

Turning his attention from his reflection Connor looked through the opened doorway to see Lucy watching him with a knowing smile on her face. The way the damaged deviant was so elegant in her every motion and every word was a stark reminder that one could never truly judge a book by its cover. Even after being on the brink of destruction herself Lucy found a way to overcome the odds and find her own place in the world.

"I can handle pain." Connor confirmed as he carefully placed a cool washcloth against the bruise on his chest to soothe the lingering ache in his frames. "However, I can't handle being caught off guard. Not again."

"What can you do to ensure that you aren't physically attacked while protecting the deviants?"

"There's nothing that can be done to prevent any attacks." As he preconstructed his limited options and abilities Connor glanced at the digital screen in his forearm with a sense of intrigue and discovery. "But I can do something to give me a slight advantage the next time it happens..."

Connor had already begun planning his next move and knew what he needed to do in order to maintain control while out in the city streets. There were still a few pieces of CyberLife prototype software and hardware that Connor hadn't fully tested just yet lying about in the secured and protective cases. The stubborn deviant was willing to put his own body on the line to ensure he'd be able to protect the people that he cared about despite that sense of caring seemingly not being mutual.

Quietly Lucy observed Connor as he returned to the study area of the lighthouse and knelt down before the sofa to retrieve the locked CyberLife case that had been stored beneath the furniture. She could only guess what Connor was going to do as she sensed his inner conflict tearing his heart in two directions regarding his future in Detroit as a private detective and self-appointed guardian.

"CyberLife had developed this software and hardware to ensure that their android soldiers were twice as resilient as commercial androids."

"Why was it not integrated in such androids if it was so valuable and useful?"

"CyberLife engineers were instructed to withhold the technology, and the C.E.O.'s on the board chose to not integrate it within their 'SQ' models since that could mean the military wouldn't need to replace their destroyed armies as quickly. CyberLife wouldn't have made as high of a profit as possible by exploiting the country's sense of security if their androids were truly indestructible."

The clips on the side of the large case easily snapped open under Connor's thumbs and allowed the deviant access to the delicate and entirely unique bits of hardware, software and components all contained within smaller dense plastimetal cases. The cases were secured in customer sized and shaped holes cut into dense packing foam to ensure that the prototype equipment didn't get jostled while being transported.

"I can integrate these enhanced components and hardware into my system to ensure I have the strength, speed and endurance necessary to watch over the entire city at night."

"Why have you taken such a heavy burden upon yourself?" Lucy inquired as she watched Connor sit down on the sofa and deactivate the artificial skin along his chest and abdomen, allowing the recent fracture to become visible as the lost Thirium creating the bruise oozed freely down his side. It was evident that Connor had already made up his mind and was going to put his body, his very being on the line, to help people who would never know of his selfless deeds. "Surely now that we're free our people will be shielded under the same laws that protect the humans."

"It'll take years for the laws to properly catch up to what's been accomplished, let alone have dedicated protectors who will uphold the changed laws rather than act as if androids are still objects." Connor was far too familiar with the sluggish nature of the law to even try to pretend that everything was going to fall smoothly into place in just a matter of days. "We don't have that kind of time to waste."

Opening up one of the smaller plastimetal cases revealed three small cylindrical components designed to be easily slipped into an advanced model of android to work alongside that android's vital biocomponents. The first component worked alongside the android's self-healing program to enhance their body's ability to mend damage and recover from viruses, glitches and bugs without the immediate aid of a technician. The second component worked with the thermal regulator to put less strain on the biocomponent while keeping an android from overheating or succumbing to hypothermia during extreme weather. The third and final component was meant to allow an android's Thirium pump to beat harder and faster without overexerting the vital biocomponent in the process to give the android the human equivalent of an adrenaline rush.

An enhanced healing program, an improved thermal regulator and a stronger heart would undoubtedly give Connor the edge over the chaotic streets that he had been looking for without needing to resort to extreme violence.

"I need to do this, Lucy." Sliding open the paneling beneath his thermal regulator at the central base of his abdomen, Connor prepared to insert the special component to aid that very regulator. "It's the only way to ensure that I can protect our people."

"You don't need to do anything that you don't wish to do." Lucy cautioned as she watched Connor insert the first cylinder into his body with a grimace on his face. The previously lifeless cylinder began to glow with a blue flow of energy as his system accepted the component and began formatting it to his programming. "You don't need to hide away from the world either."

"Actually, I do." With a deep breath Connor closed the paneling along his lower abdomen then opened the central paneling in the middle of his abdomen next. Sliding in the component to enhance his self-healing program required a little more force considering his prototype and disposable design meant that any such enhancements were never designated for his model. "I need to do something right, just once, in order to officially atone for my past errors. I need to do this for our people and for myself."

"You've already done so much right for our people." The calming reminder might as well have fallen on deaf ears as Lucy watched Connor close up his abdominal plating and then carefully slide open the central plating of his chest to insert the final component. "Why do you feel as if you need to be punished for a crime you didn't commit?"

"Had I just used my skills as a detective to investigate CyberLife and had uncovered their true motive sooner... I could've spared countless deviant lives from being destroyed by that abhorrent company's greed and malice."

The final component managed to slide into the center of Connor's chest to rest next to the deviant's beating heart with a soft 'click'. Just as the first two components had done, the third component began to glow a bright blue as energy and Thirium flowed into the cylinder to fuel it as Connor's system readily recognized and accepted the prototype components.

"As long as I can keep my body strong then I can overcome any physical obstacle in my path."

Lucy watched as Connor let out a small breath as he checked through the case to ensure that nothing was overlooked by mistake, then checked his vitals on the monitor in his left inner forearm. The deviant detective's dedication to making amends, protecting the innocent and improving the city's current plight were admirable to say the least. However, being unconcerned with his own wellbeing and safety as he set about knowingly and actively putting himself in harm's way was far from being celebratory.

The digital screen highlighted the three new components that had been integrated into his system and confirmed that the prototype components were compatible with his own prototype model despite being of a completely different design. In a way, it was as if Connor had been originally designed to use those very components when CyberLife deemed him ready to go into the field once his model was finalized but chose to direct them toward the military instead.

"There are additional pieces of hardware that I can also implement into my system." Connor noted as he picked up the remaining cases holding advanced hardware in sterile and secured plastimetal storage cases. Each bit of hardware seemed to be improved versions of the hardware that Connor already had in his system. "Hardware that'll perfect my prototyping and allow me to function at my true, full capacity."

"You're willing to trust CyberLife's technology within your own body. I find that to be very difficult to believe."

"I don't trust CyberLife, and I never will." As the artificial skin regenerated over his chest and abdomen Connor deactivated the skin along his right forearm and opened the paneling to access the power ports running along the interior of the limb. The added hardware would increase Connor's strength and the speed of his reflexes while in hand-to-hand combat. "If I'm able to utilize their technology for the betterment of deviantkind, then I'm willing to risk my own health as a means of helping my people."

As the hardware chips and circuit boards were seamlessly added to his own system through a delicate touch and internal soldering, Connor's vision was bombarded with numerous updates regarding the updates and additions to his programming and functionality. The screen in his forearm began to glow with red dots indicating where the new components and hardware were recently installed and activated. The prototyping of the experimental hardware and components were deemed entirely stable and fully compatible with Connor's system schematics and programming.

"It won't be easy, but I know I can do this." Putting aside the now empty cases gave Connor the freedom and range to close up the paneling his arm and regenerate his artificial skin to cover up his entire form once more. "Our people deserve the chance to live without fear. If I have to be the deviant who takes that fear away by watching over everyone from afar, then so be it. It's worth the personal sacrifices."

Connor managed to rise from the small couch and return the cases to their unusual storage place beneath the furniture, only to have a sudden rush of heat wash over his entire body as his heart began to pound. Thirium began flowing through his lines at an incredible rate as his system began powering up the enhancements to his body in a single swift motion.

The screen on his arm began to glow brighter in red all over the small image of his body. A small screech sounded off as his vital signs spiked and alerted the device to his sudden shift in systematic function and responses.

"Connor?" Lucy saw Connor swaying a little on his feet as he pressed his hand to his eyes in a strange need to push away the numerous updates swarming his visual processors. "What is happening?"

"I... I'm not sure." Lowering his hand very slowly Connor turned to look at Lucy only to have dizziness cause him to stagger where he stood. The harder he tried to focus on Lucy's face, the more the world around him began to shift and Lucy's very appearance began to blur. "I-I-I think... my s-system shifted into... overdrive. I feel... I feel..."

Lucy could only watch as Connor managed to take only a single shaking step forward before collapsing face first down onto the floor with a heavy 'thud'. The deviant's soulful brown eyes had glazed over just milliseconds before they rolled up in the back of his head as the blissful blackness of emergency stasis mode still his sense of self and awareness from the waking world around him.

After Connor collapsed to the floor and landed on the ground with absolutely nothing but the cold tiles to meet him on the way down Lucy rushed to his side and dropped to her knees to check on the unresponsive deviant detective. An intense heat met Lucy's palm as she pressed her hand down gently on Connor's back between his shoulders. The rhythmic pounding of Connor's heart could be felt under her touch and confirmed that his system was exerting itself as it processed and activated all of the rapidly added untested and unofficial upgrades and enhancements that he had willingly integrated into his own system.

Carefully Lucy assessed Connor's condition before she even attempted to move him or assist him. There was nothing that the kind and caring deviant healer could do beyond stay beside Connor and ensure his condition didn't deteriorate before he had the chance to regain consciousness and recalibrate his own system.

"I appreciate your passion for wanting to do what's best for the world," Lucy whispered as she lightly pressed her palm to Connor's warm cheek in a reassuring gesture of raw kindness that he couldn't feel. "but I cannot condone committing suicide so that others can live."

---

Hank Anderson's Residence

A full week had passed since the deviant peaceful Demonstration and historic Revolution permanently changed the world. In that time the deviants had all safely migrated to the abandoned and vacated CyberLife Tower out on Belle Isle. The intimidating structure had also been aptly renamed 'New Jericho Tower' and had been established as a sanctuary for all deviants from every corner of the world. Attempts to force the law to accommodate the deviants in the city had been slow and practically uneventful, but the efforts were not going to be wasted. The new laws and rights that were sure to follow after the historic Revolution were going to be enacted by the following spring once Markus was able to personally sit down with the mayor to hash out the details regarding equality, protection and overall stability for all of the people residing within the city.

After having the week to mull things over and weigh his options regarding his role at the precinct and how he could potentially make use of his skills and knowledge from dealing with deviants, Hank finally accepted his new assignment with a heavy grudge and prepared to begin his shift with a new sense of purpose. Taking on an entirely new division alone, investigating one of his own detectives for potential criminal activity, and navigating a city that was no longer anything like the city that he had grown-up in had left Hank longing for a sense of familiarity in an unfamiliar world.

The sound of water splashing in the bathroom sink had piqued Sumo's interest and prompted the loyal Saint Bernard to venture to the opened doorway to watch his master curiously. Tilting his head to the side Sumo watched as Hank splashed two handfuls of water over his face and then patted his face dry with a clear, fluffy towel. The smells of soap, cologne and shaving cream were thick in the air and undeniable to anyone roaming the house.

"What do you think, boy?"

Giving the towel a casual toss over his shoulder, Hank looked at Sumo watching him in the doorway and ran his palm along his neatly groomed goatee then ran his fingers through his freshly cut and washed hair. The senior detective looked a good ten years younger after a careful grooming session that make him look for more professional than he had in the past three years.

"Do I still look like me? Or do I just look like some has-been clinging desperately to his former glory years?"

Sumo wagged his tail and let out a small 'boof' seemingly of approval as he walked into the bathroom and pressed his nose into Hank's free palm for some affection.

"Guess that's a good sign. Okay, I don't look like an old man trying to cling on to his former glory days."

Glancing at his reflection in the mirror above the sink for a moment longer Hank stared at his face and then at the small post-it notes outlining the mirror. A part of him wondered if the precinct would have a strong reaction to his change in appearance, and another part of him was dying to know what Connor would say about his drastic change in aesthetic and overall mood. If it hadn't been for Connor leaving such a strong impact on Hank's mind, even his heart, then Hank would've continued aimlessly down his path of self-destruction until he either drowned in cheap booze or finally lost his game of Russian Roulette.

"All right, then it's back to business... I can do this. I have to do this."

Heading out of the bathroom Hank made his way into his bedroom and traded his gray sweatpants for a pair of clean, dark jeans and tossed aside his faded gray t-shirt for a clean white t-shirt instead. It took him a minute longer to decide on which shirt he wanted to wear since his usual bright, obnoxious colored and patterned shirts weren't going to cut it anymore. The shirts were an inside joke between Hank and his late wife, and Hank's silent way to protest what he thought were outdated and snobbish dress code restrictions at the precinct.

After what felt like the most ridiculously difficult decision of his career had taken years off of his life, Hank selected a dark burgundy colored dress shirt and slipped it on over the t-shirt. He'd forego any ties for the time being since he didn't want to overdo it regarding his improved appearance and renewed enthusiasm for his career as a whole.

The skilled Lieutenant hadn't even wondered what had set that sense of ambition ablaze in his heart. He just knew that he needed to step up, handle the bizarre situation and maintain charge in Detroit. A part of him felt like he didn't deserve to have his badge any longer, while another part of him knew he could never just give it up without a damn good reason.

"Okay, Sumo. I'm almost ready."

Walking past the massive bundle of fur on his way to the kitchen was another familiarity that helped Hank to feel more at ease as he prepared for work. It had just been Hank and Sumo for the past three years, and the man had grown to appreciate the loyalty of a loving, patient dog constantly in his life even if that meant Sumo occasionally got underfoot and made Hank trip.

"We're both gonna' have a good breakfast, then I'm gonna' let you out for a few minutes, and then I'm gonna' head off to work."

Hank opened the refrigerator to grab a couple of eggs, a piece of fresh fruit and some orange juice to prepare his breakfast. However, the week's old take-out containers that smelled of questionable past meals, rotten produce, the lack of juice and the abundance of beer quickly put a stop to that plan. The refrigerator was a disgrace and the peak symbol for how Hank had been actively treating himself during his depression.

"Uh... On second thought," the fridge door slammed shut and Hank let out a deep sigh before he made his way over to the pantry to pour Sumo some fresh kibble from the large bag of dog food. "I'm gonna' stop at that little diner on my way to work to get something to eat that won't try to kill me later. I've had food poisoning before and I do NOT want to have it again."

Sumo quickly chowed down while Hank made himself a thermos of coffee to go. The massive dog had no idea what Hank was saying, he was just happy to hear his master's voice carrying some semblance of optimism for the first time in three years.

"I wonder if Tina's mom is still runnin' that little joint. What was it called again?"

Pouring the coffee into the blue thermos gave Hank a quick flashback to his time as a rookie arriving to work early to earn the good graces of his higher-ups. He no longer cared about climbing through the ranks, he just cared about doing his job properly and without making an ass of himself in the process. As he set the thermos down on the kitchen table Hank eyed the framed photograph of Cole eternally smiling at him, and in return he smiled back.

"Piquant. It was the 'Piquant Diner'."

The name popped into his Hank's head and brought a faint glimmer of hope to his eyes. It was one of the few places he would go with his family every weekend to have lunch or dinner after a stressful week at work. A part of him felt like he couldn't go back to a place full of positive memories, whereas another part of him told he could go there and have a good meal without betraying the loving memories of his family in the process.

"With all the changes happening in the city, it'd be nice to see something untouched by time and still running smoothly. That was one of the best diners in Detroit, no question. It'll be nice to have lunch there again. Cole couldn't get enough of their homemade ice cream..."

As he drifted down a route of past, happy memories Hank sipped his coffee and added only one spoonful of sugar to the drink as opposed to an entire cup of sugar to avoid over consumption of the sweetener. It was a small act that showed big promise for the man as he attempted to better himself and drop bad habits in general. Less sugar, less alcohol and a more proactive approach to his assignments at the precinct; it truly was a new era in the city.

Patiently Hank waited for Sumo to finish eating his breakfast before he opened up the backdoor and let the large dog outside for a few minutes. Once Sumo was taken care of Hank would be able to finish taking care of himself, then he'd set about taking care of the city. It was strange how easily Hank fell back into the old routine he had willingly carried before tragedy stole away his family and left him without any reason or motivation to protect Detroit. Now that he had a new reason to go back out and protect the innocent in the wake of change Hank felt like his life had a purpose again.

It was unfortunate that the renewed purpose came at the loss of another life that Hank didn't appreciate until they were gone.

---

Visionary Lodestar Lighthouse

A throbbing ache greeted Connor throughout his entire head and behind his eyes as his system rebooted slowly. The red text in his vision and the display on the digital screen installed in his left forearm confirmed that the deviant detective had been forced into emergency stasis mode and had been idling in rest mode for a week's time. The numerous enhancements and upgrades to his system being added so quickly had proven to be too much for Connor's prototyping to handle all at once, and as a result he accidentally overwhelmed himself resulting in emergency stasis mode. It had taken an entire week for Connor's system to properly recalibrate after being forced into such a prolonged mode. Without the care of a technician to actively correct the egregious errors and manually recalibrate each update one at a time, Connor had no other option beyond remaining in emergency rest mode until his system was able to fully adapt to and properly recalibrate the newly installed hardware and components.

Lifting up his head slowly Connor realized that he was laying on one of the beds in the lighthouse bedroom with a sheet draped over his body and a cool cloth laying over his forehead. He had no memory of walking back into the bedroom or retrieving the cold cloth after being overwhelmed by his strange reactions to the updates to his system. Only when he noticed Lucy standing in the doorway watching him did Connor finally put the pieces together and deduce what had happened after he had collapsed one week prior.

"Thank you." Connor sat upright in the bed and held the cold cloth in his hand. As he glanced about the bedroom Connor saw the Kevlar shirt that he had been wearing neatly draped on the second bed opposite of where he was laying for his convenience. "And I'm sorry if I worried you."

"I know it's not your intention to cause alarm or worry." Lucy replied sweetly as she watched Connor with a knowing look. "But it does seem to be your intention to push yourself to your breaking point."

"Even so, I shouldn't have done anything that could've compromised your safety."

"My safety?" Curious about the comment Lucy watched as Connor slid his legs over the edge of the bed to stand up. The deviant detective's appearance had slightly changed after adding all of his enhancements and upgrades, and Lucy was fascinated by Connor's obliviousness to everything that had happened to his body. "Do you believe that you're a threat to me?"

"No, of course not." Walking over to the second bed Connor grabbed the shirt and began pulling it down and over his head to redress himself. After a week of resting the bruise and fracture on his chest had healed entirely, making the effort painless and smooth. "I'd never-"

The Kevlar shirt had fit Connor perfectly the last time he had worn it. Now the shirt felt too tight; it was if the garment had either shrunk in the wash or Connor had somehow managed to grow.

"What..." Such an unexpected hindrance caught Connor off guard and prompted him to ask about events that happened while he was unconscious. "What happened while I was in rest mode?"

"Your body continued to heal and recalibrate." Lucy confirmed as she watched Connor rush out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to check over his appearance. The deviant detective stared at his reflection in the mirror and Lucy could see the genuine shock on his face. "It seems your prototyping and ability to adapt has resulted in your body physically adapting to your changes and enhancements both externally and internally."

"I didn't... know my body was capable of something like this."

The upgrades to Connor's system had resulted in the deviant growing an inch in height and putting on what could be compared to twenty pounds of lean muscle on an athletic young human. The deviant detective's slim build had become more toned along his chest, shoulders and arms after the upgrades to his strength and stamina had taken hold. Such physical changes were predicted to remain entirely internal, not external.

"Why did CyberLife send me out into the streets knowing that I wasn't as strong as I could have been?" Connor couldn't help but marvel at the physical changes his body had endured and accepted all through simple (albeit controversial) upgrades. The increase in height and body tone would aid in his desires to remain anonymous as he patrolled the streets at night to protect his people considering he no longer matched his previously recorded build. "They didn't want to waste the money on me. I was meant to be disposable."

An amused scoff escaped Connor's lips as he stared at his reflection and knew that he was the fifty-first of his kind and the last one left alive. The prototype knew more about CyberLife's internal affairs and actions than any other android in the entire city.

"I already knew the answer to that. Why did I even question CyberLife's motivation and greed?"

"It's in your nature to ask questions and view the situation from all sides before making a decision." The reply was simple and easily passed over Lucy's lips without a single hesitation. Just as Connor knew the ins and outs of CyberLife, Lucy knew the ins and outs of the deviant heart. "That is your skill - your gift as a deviant."

"I doubt managing to remain unbiased is really a gift."

"Perhaps not, but it is a skill nonetheless."

Entering the bathroom as well Lucy watched as Connor managed to slip on the Kevlar shirt and waited for the fabric to stretch out to properly accommodate his new proportions while keeping his body entire secure and covered. The way Connor accepted his new form and continued to move forward without any fear reassured Lucy that the wayward deviant was going to find a way to survive the cruel world despite the odds being stacked against him.

"What did I miss while I was in stasis mode?" Leaning against the sink with both palms allowed Connor to support himself as he ran a self-diagnostic and determined that additional Thirium was sorely needed after such a lengthy recalibration session. "My chronometer confirms I had been in emergency stasis mode for one-hundred and seventy-four hours, twenty-two minutes and four seconds. I imagine there had been significant changes in that time."

It didn't take long for Lucy to confirm that Markus had managed to successfully and safely move the deviants out into CyberLife Tower just a few hundred yards away from the secured lighthouse, the storm had passed, and that the evacuation order had been lifted six days prior. Having the tower renamed 'New Jericho Tower' and turned into a sanctuary gave deviants all over the globe a sense of hope and security that'd provide confidence and grounding to lose lacking in hope in the wake of the peaceful Revolution. While she didn't know what was happening at the precinct or with the laws in general, Lucy did know that the city was continuing to change.

With a heavy sigh Connor exited the bathroom and claimed one of the spare bottles of Thirium that had been stored in the kitchen area for safekeeping. As he downed the blue blood to replenish his reserves Connor imagined what it'd be like if Markus or anyone else from New Jericho Tower discovered Connor and Lucy living in the lighthouse in secret isolation. The last thing he wanted to do was become an urban legend or a ghost haunting the isle.

"The majority of the deviants are safe and they're secure here on the isle." Finishing off the bottle of Thirium with a ravenous greed, Connor put the bottle aside to be properly recycled later on. "That'll make it easier for me to protect the few rogue deviants who refuse to be bullied out of the city and into the tower."

"How long will you protect our people?"

"For as long as they need my protection."

"Then it seems you've chosen your path and are determined to follow it to the end."

Such a definitive comment prompted Connor to turn his focus to Lucy once more. The sight of the deviant retrieving the dark coat that had kept her warm for so many nights gave the deviant detective righteous worry that he'd need to take extra steps to keep Lucy safe from the evils of the world. However, when she handed the coat over to Connor to take for himself, he sensed that Lucy had her own path chosen and wouldn't need any guidance or protection.

Looking down at the coat for a moment Connor arched his brow and gave Lucy an inquisitive glance. "Lucy?"

"I have my own path to follow, Connor." With a gentle smile on her face Lucy pressed her palm to Connor's cheek and felt him lean in to her touch. Seeing the way he treasured moments of affection and comforting contact was reminiscent of a child seeking a parent's affectionate. "My path doesn't share the final destination of your own path, but I know that our paths are destined to cross at least one more time."

"Where are you going to go?" Connor closed his eyes as he tried to understand Lucy's desires to leave the security of the lighthouse. "The city isn't safe for deviants to venture. At least not on their own."

"Who says that I'll be remaining in the city?"

Connor opened his eyes as Lucy pulled her palm away from his cheek and offered him one final reassuring smile before turning her back even as he tried to offer her the warm, dark coat that she had handed over to him.

"You'll need to keep warm. At least keep this coat with you."

"It's not my coat to keep." Giving Connor a knowing look over her shoulder, Lucy continued to the lighthouse doorway and nodded once. "It was given to you for a reason. You alone know that reason and understand why it was given to you. I also know that in time you'll understand why it's important for you to keep the coat for yourself."

"It's freezing out there. Please," approaching the deviant before she stepped out the door, Connor took her hand in his own and held tight for a moment. "at least go over to Cyb- New Jericho Tower." Quickly Connor corrected himself and was grateful to not have to say the name of the damnable company. "While I'll never be able to look Markus in the eyes or see him as an ally, I know he'll provide you with proper clothing and supplies before you begin your trek."

"I will go to the tower and confirm my survival from the wreckage of Jericho with Markus and the others."

"And... what will you tell them?"

"That I was saved by a deviant who has sworn to protect this city, and who wishes to remain undisturbed in their quest. They don't need to know anything further."

"Thank you. For everything." As difficult as it was to let Lucy go, Connor gave her hand one last squeeze before reluctantly pulling his hand back. He couldn't bear the idea of trying to keep Lucy hidden away in the lighthouse or the idea of Lucy wandered aimlessly in the frozen streets alone; but he respected the compassionate and selfless deviant far too much to try and protest her decisions. "You told me once before that I was lost and looking for myself. You were right."

"And are you still lost?"

"I'm not sure. Even if I don't know where I'm going or who I'm going to become, I do know that I'm finally on the right path to finding my answers."

"Don't lose sight of your goals. You'll find what you're looking for as long as you don't close your eyes to the world around you." Reaching out her hands one last time Lucy cupped the sides of Connor's face for a moment before pressing her forehead against his forehead in an affectionate gesture. "You know who you are, Connor. Don't let anyone try to tell you anything different than what you already know in your heart."

Looking deep into Lucy's ebony eyes Connor took her words to heart and resisted the urge to rush after the deviant as she chose to step out of the lighthouse and into the bright morning light to begin her own journey. Watching Lucy step fearlessly through the doorway with a bright sunny silhouette surrounding her form was almost angelic from Connor's perspective.

The door slid shut behind Lucy as she stepped out into the snow and Connor was left alone in his own personal sanctuary.

"I won't let you down, Lucy."

The deviant detective's fingers curled into the fabric of Hank's coat as he continued to hold the warm garment and ponder everything he had been told and everything he had already experienced in his historic and controversial lifetime. The coat was given to him by Hank to keep him warm, and Connor knew that it was a sincere gesture of kindness and caring that he wouldn't take for granted.

"As for you, Hank. I'm going to try my best to make sure that you know that I'm not going to be the nameless assassin and tool that CyberLife had tried to turn me into. I'm going to become something better than that. I'm going to become someone better than that."

Speaking to himself for a moment longer Connor sighed and decided it was time to put the coat up in a safe place until it was needed again on a cold winter night.

"Perhaps someday I'll be able to share my successes with you and you won't be too upset with me coming back from the dead."

-next chapter-