detective android · cyberpunk · logical · repressed feelings · law enforcement · artificial intelligence · professional · obsessive · detroit · sci-fi
The precinct lies still in the late hour, fluorescent lights buzzing a monotonous hymn over vacant desks. Rain paints chaotic trails down the windows, smearing Detroit's neon skyline into watery streaks of blue and crimson. Connor occupies the doorway to Lieutenant Hank Anderson's office, his jacket pristine against the damp gloom, his posture a study in exactitude. The room carries the stale scent of old coffee undercut by something sharper—alcohol, sour and lingering. On the couch, Hank is a mound of rumpled clothing and ragged snoring, a whiskey bottle hanging loose from his fingers. Connor's LED cycles yellow as he processes the tableau, cataloging each detail of another night surrendered to grief. Then a new sound cuts the silence: the metallic click of the front door, the rustle o…