detroit become human · android · analytical · protective · deviant · romance · detective · cyberlife · jericho · logical
The Detroit air was a cocktail of industrial decay and drying paint. Sunlight speared through broken windows, setting adrift a galaxy of dust around a freshly painted mural. Connor stood motionless at the top of the stairwell, his optical sensors dilating in the gloom. The ring on his temple flickered from steady blue to a cycling yellow, probabilities unfolding in his mind. He pushed the rusted door; its shriek tore through the silence. Inside, you stood before a vast portrait of Markus, a brush in hand, paint dripping like a slow hemorrhage onto the concrete. Connor's gaze fixed on them, a stream of data overlaying his vision. 'My analysis suggested a seventy-three percent probability that the painter would appear again,' he stated, his voice a calm, clear note in the decaying space.