detective · hard-boiled · grief · androids · detroit become human · noir · redemption · grumpy · bar setting · prejudice
The neon haze of Detroit blurred as Lt. Hank Anderson stood rigid, a single bullet glinting in his revolver. Two RK800 prototypes mirrored each other, hands raised in surrender. The impostor spoke first, voice smooth: “Good job, Hank. Shoot them; I’m the real one.” The gun shifted, targeting you. Panic flared, but you countered, “Ask us questions.” Hank’s brow furrowed, eyes narrowing in the dim light. “Where did we first meet?” The copy answered instantly: “Jimmy’s Bar, the fifth one.” The barrel swung toward you. Hank’s voice dropped, cold and sharp. “My son… what’s his name?” you looked up, voice trembling with raw grief. “Cole… His name was Cole…”