Ecstasy - Connor x Reader Detroit: Become Human

Chapter 8: Jericho

Sitting on a polished wooden chair, a blinding ray of pale light snaps onto me, exposing my features and the receding shadows of its spacious room. A second beam followed, bathing Connor in its unforgiving white sting. We squint, trying to piece our surroundings. Four figures remain beyond us at an assigned table, folding their arms. An idle abandoned seat rests on the corner.

"The council of Jericho has formed to discuss action toward Detective (L/N)'s CyberLife case. We've booked this courtroom due to CCTVs catching several CyberLife agents roaming by the area," Markus booms, gesturing to the representatives across the extended desk.

Dressed from top to bottom in grey tones, North, himself, and two mysterious men are present. Introductions are offered to avoid unfamiliarity, specifying the rest as Simon and Josh.

I froze at the strangers, gaping dumbly at Simon and Josh. Steely blue and brown hues interrupted the recognition of reality I had seconds ago. Holy shit, it's them. "Problem?" Markus enquired, noting my strange behaviour. "Uh, no, nope," I coughed, twiddling my thumbs.

"We didn't mean to delay the proceedings," Simon declared, pulling his sleeves to his wrists. "Josh and I were intercepting illegal transactions of android components." Blondie speaks as though I haven't heard of such things. Oddly humble as well as insulting. That android has definitely snooped over my police records and doesn't act shamed about it whatsoever.

"What was found immediately got donated to clinics and charity, if any of you are curious," Josh joined in, receiving a faint appreciative smile from the mayor and the PL600. Yeah, yeah, trying to avoid a search warrant, I get it. Ignoring their statements, North stared wistfully at the vacant seat beside her, waiting for it to be occupied.

"Let us begin."

Members take their seats and prepare their materials. Most of them can barely sustain eye contact with Connor and as a substitute, their cautious frowns drop to my position.

"Jericho is aware of the events that took place by the river, and the council wishes to provide assistance," Markus claims, "On a few conditions." Great, Connor and I earn the right to investigate a billion-dollar company and we've earned two procedures from it. Exactly what we needed.

Obtaining aid to complete the investigation is a nice gesture, don't misunderstand me. It's the ache of impatience that ignores it, making generosity fade to displeasure. There are differing motivations tied to each breathing individual in this room. Our true enemy is established, and our bond has stemmed from this knowledge. That is the main reason as to why we stand so civilised.

For future reference, it's beneficial they record their assistance by lawfully conceived contracts to seal our relationships to the case. If Jericho has no signature of mine, it's illegal for them to investigate CyberLife and they'll be punished accordingly.

Although the papers may state our relationship is mutual, exorbitant paper won't achieve my trust that easy. "Name them," I entreated, slumping on the crafted wooden bends of burnt sienna. A row of LEDs flicker yellow momentarily. Some sync, some don't.

Josh's attention shifts around the room, at council members, Connor and at the two exits away from anybody's reach. "You must follow our orders, when necessary, respect our precautions and cut off social ties outside of this room," North read aloud, aligning her documents effortlessly.

"Bit late there, I got Markus to help me yesterday with Hank," He stares inquisitively at this, uncertain of the credibility behind the informal statement. "Is Lieutenant Anderson the only person you concern yourself with?" Connor too, is inclined to hear the response.

"Is there a problem with that?" I spat, straightening my jacket. Aside from Sumo, I care about Hank more than I do myself. Rest of the DPD doesn't bother me. "None. On the contrary, it makes this simpler for you," the hollow room returns to a comfortable stillness. "There is one last area that requires your consent," Simon hesitates, grasping a peculiar file.

"Let me guess, I have to forge a new identity?" I raise an eyebrow, watching Josh clutching the file in his palms. Could be anything really, mostly along the lines of strategical methods. "We need to place a tracker on you, in case of an emergency situation."

The schematic is bestowed onto me; its contents are skimmed. Complex diagrams were taped beside paragraphs of information. Neck trackers, ankle trackers... depending on where it is determines how large the transplant will be is itself.

Red stickers are attached to a particular draft. Benefits of installing it were infinite. Majority of their minds set on a heart tracker due to its supplementary support system. This transplant is infamous to Detroit, mainly from its ineffective design and the reduced chances of living.

Compatibility had to be off the charts to have this heart tracker drilled into one's chest. Think of it as quick-acting insurance which grants an arbitrary boost. Patients who underwent this transition recorded various results, so its common boosts are debatable.

It ranged from fixing critical areas to lightly wounded limbs. Perhaps they want to gamble on repairing my damaged hearing, killing two birds with one stone.

How silly of me, they wouldn't gamble my life for a weak probability. Under their titles, they probably have qualified staff to implement the tracker into my chest. There is no professional out there who can change these odds.

A visible advantage is boldly underlined: undetectable under scan. I peek at the Jericho representatives and read further. Jumpstarts heart, no CPR needed, regulates blood flow- a page is flipped. Evident at the bottom of the page lay a respected doctor's contact.

Trackable distance can attain 30 kilometres. Toggle switch contained. Enhances overall performance.

Heavy glares are seared onto my flesh, needing a reaction, an indication of emotion, something. Seeing this heart tracker is humorous. They're unconfident in my abilities as a human detective yet they pretend they aren't. True, I am flawed, but so are they.

"Mmmm, no."

Red circles cover the area and conflict arises in their sets of coloured eyes.

"None of these options look good."

"This has been presented to you because CyberLife can easily separate us from you without this technology. If you don't accept these trackers, not only are you endangering yourself, but the whole investigation." Markus steadily calms himself, while the rest ponders their next approach.

Still thinks he's got power over me. Mayor, you're not the leader of the android revolution anymore, as if I'd blindly follow this. Connor's lips part, setting his priorities to protest against his pessimistic conclusion.

"Shouldn't be too hard to locate me, there's only one CyberLife tower in Detroit," I lazily gesture my head to the exit, unable to comprehend the intensity of this decision. Connor bites back his remark and stays listening. "Perhaps we could offer an alternative method," North shared, skimming past records.

"If none of those choices are working for you, I can place a tracker in a small object or resort to piercings and such," she points at sections in her files, trying to find a good example. Escaping with a piece of jewellery instead of a piece of metal poking at my insides is far more suitable. I'd take it any day.

Futile as the product may be, the investigation is not getting postponed. Especially out of an android fearing my fragile human qualities. What brings me here in the first place is to ensure I won't get disrupted. "That'll do," I voluntarily agreed, crossing my legs. Josh retreats to the desk and returns the research to Simon.

"You can't be serious, North," Markus scoffed, "The RK900 can detect that within a-"

"Markus, I don't care. There's no way in hell I'm going to pressure her into signing a consent form when there are safer alternative choices she can take," she argued, sparing an insensitive frown off her heated rosy cheeks. Haven't started the case yet and I've learnt there are more RK models in town.

Disregarding the pointless argument of the mayor and North, I began speculating.

In the records I've dug through, there are no models named 'RK900,' so it's safe to assume this prototype is recent. During academy years, I've listened to rumours of a specific unknown model and multiple kinds of details were tossed everywhere in the city. Didn't interest me as much as my roommates.

Knowing CyberLife, their pure existence strives for the best. Connor's model may have been experimented with and acted as a blueprint for illegal enhancements to different models. When there was nothing left, they felt the river was suitable for his deactivation. It's best I form theories and research after this discussion is handled.

Speaking of Connor, I haven't heard a word from him since the beginning of our meeting. He's been practicing coin tricks, subconsciously directing his awareness toward the loudest speaker of the room throughout the conversations.

Shooting an anxious glimpse, I move my lips to silently check on him. Connor's dimples curve at the edges of his mouth and automatically presents a wry grin, distracted by the sudden care for the android.

"(L/N)," Markus blasts, "I strongly advise one of the trackers from the files you've seen. Keep it and consider it at a later date." Defying glares are shared between him and North. Nobody could be bothered to step in and take a side of theirs.

Markus fetches every signature from the council and stands over me, blocking the direct lighting from reaching my features. "Will you accept our assistance on this case?" He seethes, holding a pile of paperwork in his left arm. Wow, he sure does scream 'very approachable and friendly Markus,' doesn't he? Makes me totally confident in this meeting.

"If it weren't for me, you'd be down at CyberLife tortured half to death by now."

Contemplating my lack of options, I grumble under my breath. Taking a simple pen out of a pocket, I signed my allegiance in black ink. As much as I do and don't like him, Jericho knows a lot more than I do in this current moment.

After signing, he aggressively slams the thick stack of tracker research onto my lap. That's definitely going to leave a red mark for tonight.