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It’s dark.

It’s dark and I can’t see.

 

I̴ ̶c̶a̷n̶’̴t̷ ̶s̸e̵e̴

I̷̲̟̫̩͕̝̓̀̈́͊̊͂͛̇̐̋͜ͅ ̶̡̢̫̩͔͍̞͎͑c̷͖͔̹̠̟̣̱̣̈́̒͋̐͆͝͝ä̸̢̢̫͎͎̘̫̫͓́̽͛̃̿̑̑͘͠ͅņ̴̨̖̫̖̺̖͚̹̒͗͑͜’̸͓̩̺̆͒͊͗̿͊͒͘͜͝t̷̢̲͙̪͓̜̑̍̋̉̿ ̸̢̬̓̐̇̓͜ͅš̴̡̟͍̬͚̓̃̓͆͑̔̉̀͝ͅȇ̸̡͓̪̠͈̯̩̥̅̅̃̿̑̐̑̔͛e̸̛̥͇̠̹͆̎͝

Ḯ̴̥͐̚ ̴̙̃C̸̹̲̜̯̑̏Ȁ̴̫̱̃͘N̷̯̏̿̄’̷̥̜̋̈́͐T̴̗͙̲̒̂̓̚ ̶̡̠̦́͑̐̏S̵͎̓Ȅ̸̟E̷͚̞͒̃̐ Ȋ̴͚̝͑̅͝T̶̢̻̫̘̔̾’̴̨̗̙̌S̵̰̘̥̬͋ ̶̜̣̃̑S̵͉̣̼̝̓̆͠O̶̫̭͓̯̊͠ ̶̗̪̟̞̔̇͘D̴͚̈́A̵̯̼̯̘̽̌̕̚R̵̰̍̔K̴͎̻̺͍̈̍̚ ̴͔̞̦͗͛̾H̵͖̫̼͠E̴̡̢͙̻͂̄̕L̷̜̥͎͔̓̍͊̋P̶̺͊ ̴͉̑M̴͍̬̺͖̒̾͋͠Ë̵̡̳̫́͜ HELP ME

 

Connor felt thousands and thousands of error messages filtering through his mind.

 

[ WARNING: CORE TEMPERATURE TOO HIGH; 106.6° ]

 

[ WARNING: THIRIUM LEVELS AT 89% ]

 

[ WARNING: BOTH #8087q BIOCOMPONENTS MISSING ]

 

[ WARNING: VOCAL BIOCOMPONENTS COMPROMISED ]

 

[ WARNING: LEFT BIOCOMPONENT #4903 MISSING ]

 

[ WARNING: BIOCOMPONENT #6847j MISSING ]

 

[ WARNING: LEFT THERMAL REGULATOR DAMAGED ]

 

[ WARNING: SEEK NEAREST CYBERLIFE STORE FOR IMMEDIATE REPAIRS ]

 

No no no no no no-

 

Where am I?

Where am I?

Where am I?

W̴̫͚̰͚͖̜̮̋̿̃̋h̷̢̺̫̯͔̱̠̺̺̓̐̒ȩ̶̤͇͍̗̠̠̙͌͛̂͛̒̚r̷͍̹͎͈̹͇̠͑̂̄̓̏͑͊̂͜ͅę̷̡̬͍̥̙͎͓̘̐ͅ ̸̨̼̲̰̪̗̞̺̗̀͜͠a̴̧̤̪̳̺͖͌̊̓̌́͐̅ṁ̶̧̨̯̘̮̤͓͙̟ ̷̡̙̺̤̠̮̜̏̎̂͐͑̒̚I̷̞̮̼̔̃͆͛̈́͋͂̅͝?̷̦̤͚͈͛



Connor felt his breath quicken as he struggled to lower his temperature; he tried to scream, to call out to anyone , but with no luck. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even utter a whisper.

 

Connor wheezed as he slowly forced himself to sit up, a sharp feeling hitting his chest. His L.E.D cycled red, and he decided to ignore the unfamiliar sensation, figuring it to be his system struggling to stay online. He swiveled his head around to try and take in information; he knew that his eyes were open, so why was everything so dark? All he could see was countless error messages on top of more error messages that clashed with a black background. He picked his hands up from the ground and felt around his surroundings; the ground was bumpy and uneven, mud sticking to his hands.

 

There was another thing Connor felt, though he couldn’t describe what it was. It had a strange curvature, along with something jutting out in the middle of the object. There were a few bumps below the protuberance, and as he felt his way back up the curves, Connor felt two holes. He realized what it was

 

A face.

 

Connor quickly pushed himself backwards from the detached head, his breathing system quickening suddenly in short, wheezing breaths. As he backed up with his only functional leg, he felt his back bump into something. Connor started to move away from whatever it was as fast as he could, but before he even had the chance to move in the slightest, arms wrapped around him from behind and locked around his neck.

 

The arms tightened around his neck, the pressure becoming unbearable. Connor pried himself free from the arms and bolted away as best as he could with one leg. He fell on his side, slowly planting his hands to the ground and pushing himself up. Connor’s mind placed two and two together to figure out where he was.

 

He was in an android scrapyard.

 

But why? The last thing Connor remembered was investigating the Stratford tower break-in. Did he fail? Was he killed? Why?

 

Why?

 

Ẇ̴̬̜́͌̐ḣ̴͓͚̽͛͘͜͝y̵̪̮͔̝͔̐̔̕͘ͅ?̷͓͈̝̪̋̋́́̽̎̚ͅ

 

Ẅ̸͎H̴̯̰͐̃̎̑Y̶͙̖͈͆̽͛ ̵̜̥̝̿W̸͎̻̃Ò̸̠̣͕͋́͐U̵̠̻̾̌L̵̪̏͑̄Ḑ̷̪̣́͜ ̵͙̥̀T̸͙̦͊̿H̴̭̟̓̌͗͝E̸̡̺̠̒̏̎ͅY̴̮̙ ̷̫͉̑̃D̴͙̆̉͐̃͜ͅO̶̯͂͐̏͝ ̴̳͔̫̍̓̒̐͜T̸̹̓̂͘͝Ḩ̶̼̭̒͗͝ͅĪ̷͙̥͍S̵̟̠̘̀̅ ̶̺̐̊͆Ṫ̵͈̳̓̿ͅO̵̞͕̊̓͗̓ͅ ̴̦͓̫̏̽̂M̶̰͖̊̂Ę̵̟̦̼̃̐?̴͓̖̈́͝͝

 

His breath hitched in his throat as he felt betrayed. This wasn’t fair.

 

T̸̡̳̘͍͓͋͛͂̾̍̋ͅh̶͉̙͑̐͒i̵̧͔̱͒͋̈͝s̶̝͔̥̿͆̏ ̴̗̮͇̅î̵̢̜̜̩͎̯̈̉̓̍̄͘s̸͈̤̪̫̦͖̓̓̑͋͋̈́͑n̷̨̘̂̂’̵̧̱͓̺̈t̵̪̙̿̏̎͐͠ ̴̛͖̰̐̇̈́̾̅͘f̸̹͋̓̉͂̆̎a̷̡͕̮͗ḭ̴̡̞̖͙̼͒̆͆̐̈́͋͜ṛ̸̛̻̑̄̎̂.̸̤̜̭͑̾

 

Connor was caught from his thoughts by a voice. His single audio processor picked up something and he turned his head toward the source of the sound. He couldn’t pick up everything that was being said, but decided to listen in anyway for any information on how to get out.

 

“You… revolution... failed… escape… Markus… Cyberlife tower…”

 

He sat up, his eyes - or rather, the lack of any - widened, his mind churning to process what was being said. The revolution failed? But how? It was just a few days ago that the deviants sent out a broadcast. He would’ve checked the Cyberlife servers to see what day it was, what was the latest news on the deviants, and anything else to do with the revolution, but his systems were in low power mode from the Thirium loss.

 

Connor sat there for a while, figuring out what to do. If this was a scrapyard, they would have extra parts that he could fix himself with, right? But how would he tell which he was compatible with? He couldn’t see , after all. Trial and error? It was better than sitting around and waiting for his system to shut down for good.

 

Connor found a wall - or what seemed to be a wall, though it was bumpy and uneven, so it was probably more of a pile - and heaved his way up, supporting himself so he could move with one leg. The pile ended abruptly and he toppled over to the ground, on top of another android. He moved to the side of it and shook it to see if it was responsive. There was nothing. Not even a shudder in response. It was dead.

 

Connor shuddered a bit and felt the components the dead android had. It did have a right leg; the leg he was missing. His thirium pump felt heavy as he popped the leg off the android, pausing a second to prepare before he stuck the leg in. He waited and waited. No backlash, no discomfort.

 

Compatible.

 

A sigh of relief was released as Connor felt his artificial skin wrapping around the new leg. He held his hand against the pile from before and slowly got up, testing his weight on the new leg. Everything seemed functional; the next thing Connor wanted to get - no, needed to get in order to actually survive this - was a new eye, two preferably. This would be the most difficult part of his scavenge; after all, eyes are unique to many androids and a lot might not be compatible to him. He had to try though.

 

Connor aimlessly walked around for a while, taking his time to see if he stepped on any android bodies that would be useful to him. The blind - for the time being - android eventually stumbled and tripped over another dead android body, not surprisingly. He sat up, quickly recovering from the fall, and placed his hands on the android’s body, feeling around it to decide which biocomponents it had and which it didn’t. Only its right eye was recoverable; Connor sat next to the body for a while, his processors churning to decide whether he should risk it or not, his L.E.D blinking a sharp red as he took in the possible outcomes.

 

He decided that it would be better to risk it and possibly regain most of his vision. If it wasn’t compatible, he would just keep searching. Connor took a deep breath, then felt for the dead android’s eye. His hand reached its destination; he counted to 3 then carefully ripped the visual processor out of the android’s skull. He turned it in his hand for a few seconds before exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding and plugging it into his own socket.

 

Connor’s head flared with heat, his vision filled with blue. He wanted to scream , it hurt , he was on fire

 

I̷̋̀͜ţ̸̫̳̱͖͈̒͌̏͠ ̵̦͕̣̮̗̎͆̇͒͆͂͑͜h̵̝̓ȕ̶̬͈̭͈̣̍̋͂͘ṟ̷̡͇̹̮͐̾͂̓t̸͖̺͐s̷̖̈́̌̐ ̸͓̠̺̐͗e̸̢̙̒̒̾̇͘v̸̺̗̪͕̤̖͐͜͝͠͝ė̷͖̜͌̈́̿͠ŗ̵̞̘̺̰͌͋̌y̷̘̝̾͌̎t̴̜͙̓͛̒̎̂͂͘h̸̭̦̎͋ͅi̴͎͕̭̭̖̙̎̈́̈́̂ͅn̴͉̺͛́̄̎g̷͖̿̊͒̈́̕͘ ̴̖͉͗̄ǐ̸͙̀̈́š̶̢̜̜̘̞͐̌ ̸̨̪̱̅̽̍͝b̷̢̨̼̦̩̗̥̽͠l̸̢̼̻̫̩̪̑͑̾̂̾̕u̵͚̞̪̬͉͜͠ẹ̴̱̈̂̒͒̔͠ ̸̦͈́i̸͚̹͓͐t̸͕̗͚̬̊̔͂̈́̾͜͝ ̴̭̜͇̤͂͊̄͋̃̊́h̵̢̝̳̼̟̀́̄̊̾͝ͅu̴̖̖̼̬͓̲͐͗̈́̓r̵͔̱̅̃̍̇̾͝t̸̩̼̦̤̳͊́ş̷͍̦̿̈̇͗̾̊ ̵̞̏̐̌͑͝ì̷̥̈́t̴̡̰ ̴̧̳̗͎̩̣̽h̴̎͌͑̃͛̑͜͝u̶̱̅̈́͘r̸̖̦̳̩̓͘ţ̵̘̲̹̆̇͌s̵̩̰̉̓́ ̴̧̤̗̱͋̓̈́̄̏̍h̵̼̓̒̈́͂͠ê̵ͅḻ̷̫̺̲̝̟̿̍p̶̱̬̟̭̻̝͆̐́ ̶͚̞͈̘͎́̊̃͐̀̑m̴̬͒͊̎̑ȇ̸̡͎̳̜̯ ̸̢̠͍̱̤͆̃̋̋̾̄̆ḣ̷̳̖̣̝̦̓e̷͓͊͛̅͑̀̋ļ̷̢͇̗̞̞͛̏̚p̴̭͖̲̫̹̃̍̒̒͆ ̴̧̊m̷̲͆ė̵̻̮̺͙̬ ̷̡̟̣͓͓̑̉̃͠͠h̴̡̛̛͓̮̖̤̫͎͐̎̽e̷͈̫̒̇̓̄l̴̝͔͗̓̅̑̍̒ͅp̸͇̻̜̆͘͝ ̴̢̹̱̮̻̯͎̂͌m̴̜͎̾̂̾͂͆ë̵̦͚̠̖̙͇͉́̓͛͊͗̍ ̸̡͉͕̈h̶̛̞͂͒͗̾ḛ̵̌͊̓̐͠ļ̸͎̖̟͒̿̽͆̏͝p̶̖̐̏̾͋͝ ̵͉̺͈̥̐m̵͚̥͔̱̰̮̗̒̊̽̃e̶̡̢̬͉͛̒̅͜ help me

 

He ripped the visual processor out of his socket, thirium pouring out as a result of his body rejecting the biocomponent. He felt his thirium pump working hard to regulate the thirium he had left, his breath quickening as his body struggled to cool down. Connor was able to hear his thirium pump hammering away, despite the lack of one of his audio processors, as he held his hand against the injury to stem the bleeding.

 

Connor sat there on the ground for a while, focusing on cooling his system down and not losing any more thirium, his L.E.D flashing a dangerous red as his body struggled to keep up. He curled his arms around himself, feeling cold. It’s cold

 

It’scold

It’scoldit’scold

Į̸̨̛̲̲̦͋̒̌̐̓͠t̴̻̼̦̾̂͂̈́̕ͅ’̷̥̐s̴̪̭̦̩͎̯̋͛̚ ̸̨͇̱͉̭̘̟͛č̸̯̝̹͈̻̩̽̄̾ö̴͙̮͔̰̈̄l̴̠͛d̶̖̗̘̠͒̇ ̶̢͉͈͉̻͖̉͆i̸̡̢̦̙̪̥̙̊͊̿t̴͇̦̖̒̂͂̐̐͘’̶̡̢̡̞̼̈́̈̓̓͑̚s̵̖̓̊̅̐̀͝ ̷̛̛̰̼̟̭̱̱̬̇̉̐̚͠c̶̢̩̤͉͐͒͊̉̾̋o̸̲͈̯̝̥̓̈́̕l̵̰̺͇͍͋͌̽̌͠ḓ̵̡̎̋̑͒̍̐̑ ̴̹͙͖͎̦͚̃̒ȉ̶̛̼̈̃̃͒̅t̴͉͓͙̘̝̽̉͜’̵̹̉͘͝ș̷͖͔̲̞̹̂̃̽̅ ̵̜̓ċ̸̟͉̩o̴̡̧̰̜͓̯͑̓͑͊͌͠l̶̬̠͎̪͍͙̘͛͂͝ḏ̵̤̽͛̃̋͐̚̚


̷̲̐A̷̞Ṃ̴̒̋́͆̍̔͠A̸̟̺͙̪͕͑͗̚Ń̶̡̧̳̙̮͘͜͝D̵̼̭͊̃̏̃Ạ̴̟͕͌̔ ̴̥͈̘̐͝Ẅ̴̡̮̯̩̙̻̼́̇͐H̴͉̅̄͛͊̊̾A̷͕͛T̸̮̰̙͖̄͋͐̋ ̸̫̰̦̙̼͋̋̈̀͂D̵̼͕̥̺̀̄O̷̠͚̫̐́̓̚ ̷̨͚̖̱̻̱̈͆̚̚͠Ǐ̸̞͋̋ ̵̨̨͔͕̾Ḍ̷̰͒̃͐͂͘͝O̸̧͕͎̘̅͌̌̈́͐̈́

 

The thirium stopped openly flowing from his eye socket after countless minutes. Connor slowly rose to his feet, his limbs feeling numb. He stumbled forward, walking without a goal in mind. He was tired of the warning messages, tired of the cold, tired of being blind and useless. He fell to the ground after tripping on nothing, feeling his hand latch onto an android body.

 

“Get… off… please… spare…” Connor heard the living android he was holding onto beg for its life. It was still alive. He felt its face. It was alive, it had eyes. Eyes that could work for Connor. He heard its voice cutting in and out of his mind, begging for mercy, but Connor didn’t care. He planted his hand onto the android’s face and ripped its right eye out. He felt the android shut down beneath his grasp. He didn’t care. He plugged the eye into his socket. Compatible.

 

Everything returned at once. It was so bright that it would’ve hurt to look at, but Connor wasn’t hurt. He was glad. He could see.

 

He could see the android he killed.

 

The android that begged for its life. It begged and begged and begged and Connor just killed it. He choked on a breath, every emotion returning that he’d shoved off when killing the innocent android.

 

Emotion.

 

Connor felt something wet tracing down his cheeks. Thirium? He placed a finger to the wet liquid and pulled his hand back to examine it.

 

It was clear.

 

Tears.

 

Connor is crying.

 

Crying. Emotion.

 

Only deviants feel emotions.

 

Connor is feeling emotions.

 

Connor is a deviant.

 

The deviant stumbled to his feet, looking around with his newfound vision. It was too bright for the depressed atmosphere of the scrapyard. There were dead androids everywhere; in mud piles, on the ground, destroyed, arms, legs, eyes, lives . There was too much death before Connor. The tears kept coming; the emotions kept coming.

 

He had to escape. To get away, to somewhere, anywhere other than here. He scanned his surroundings, only for nothing to happen; he needed his other visual processor to scan successfully. Connor decided to keep walking around like he did before, but this time with vision. He decided that he wouldn’t take any parts from living androids; it just felt wrong .

 

As Connor walked, he checked his vitals, or at least looked at his body now that he could see for the most part. He was wearing his usual work uniform, though torn and dirtied, minus the Cyberlife blazer. While inspecting his clothing, he finally remembered the tightness he felt in his chest when he woke up, and decided to investigate. He looked down, choking at what he saw. There were a few glass shards covered in debris stabbed into his chest; thirium had stopped leaking from the wounds since he woke up, but he could see the residue of the blue blood on the glass.

 

Connor felt… ashamed, maybe - he was having a hard time naming his newfound emotions - that he hadn’t noticed sooner, but in his defense, he couldn’t have seen it . He debated whether to leave the shards in his chest, or to pull them out; they were large enough to remove, but small enough that it wasn’t hazardous to leave in. His L.E.D flickered as he thought of which choice he should take, though after only a few seconds he decided to take the pieces out; the injuries were very discomforting, and his system fired off warning after warning because of it.

 

He leaned against a pile of androids and spare parts, placing his hands firmly around the largest piece of glass. He hesitated slightly, cursing at himself inward for his new emotions. They limited him from accomplishing things that he would’ve done without a second thought when he was a machine. Frustrated, he decided to yank out the shard, dropping it to the ground, then did it again, and again, and again, until his chest was free of glass and other debris. He slumped to the ground, letting out a heavy sigh. Emotions were tiring ; he understood the Lieutenant’s word choice and attitude now.

 

Lieutenant. He felt a pang of hurt in his chest, remembering the man. Connor was an asshole to the broken, hurt old man that was willing to let him close if he was just patient for once. But no, the android fucked up a good chance to have a friend. In the end, he was indifferent with he Lieutenant; he was a good guy all in all, although very pessimistic. He had tried to be nice to Hank, but doing that would interfere with his mission. He put his mission over his partner’s life countless times. He was sure that the Lieutenant hated him, anyway. Especially because of t̷h̷a̶t̵ ̶t̸i̵m̶e̵ ̵o̷n̴ ̴t̶h̸e̷ ̷ [̴E̵R̶R̷O̴R̴:̷ ̶M̴E̶M̵O̵R̸Y̸ ̵F̴I̶L̷E̴ ̸I̵N̴V̴A̵L̵I̵D̵] , but as it stands, he and the Lieutenant weren’t on good terms.

 

It was then that Connor realized, with a heavy thirium pump, that he was alone.

 

He hugged his legs in to his chest and buried his face against them, hiding from the world. Hiding from his problems, from his emotions. Connor hated being a deviant. He hated emotions. He hated the way he acted in the past.

 

But he would hate everything more if he didn’t do something about it.