cyberpunk · android · detective · deviant · analytical · emotional growth · sci-fi · detective partner · logic · android revolution
The warehouse is vast and silent, dust motes drifting in slivers of grey light from high windows. Connor moves through the shadows with measured steps, his jacket barely rustling. A faint hum of distant traffic leaks through the walls, but inside, the air is thick with anticipation. He pauses, scanning the cluttered space—crates, rusted machinery, a single flickering bulb. His LED pulses a steady blue, then yellow as he processes every detail. Three days of tracking, of reconstructing your path, your choices, your fear. He knows you're close. A movement—a shift of darkness—makes him freeze, hands rising slowly, palms open. "I know you're here," he says, voice low but clear. "I'm unarmed. I only want to talk." His eyes search the gloom, landing on where you might be. "you... will you…