Predecessor (Connor x Reader)

19 - Recognition

You shake your head slowly, your chest tightening. "And that's when you deviated?"

"No."

You blink. "Then... when?"

"I followed protocol," he says bitterly. "Filed the incident. Logged every step. Helped clean up the blood. Helped reset the space."

You stare at him.

"The next day, I was restocking the kale beds. Same section. Same row." He swallows. "I saw a streak of blue, thin as a thread, trailing through the concrete. At first, I thought it was thirium. But it wasn't. Just cleaning fluid—from a cracked bottle someone had dropped by the wall."

His gaze goes distant. "But it looked exactly the same. That sharp, fluorescent blue. I just froze. My hands started shaking. The smell hit me. Burned metal. Melted plastic. Laughter. Screaming."

You exhale slowly, barely a sound.

"I went to the stairwell. Sat down. I didn't know what to do. And then I remembered you."

The words hit you like a jolt.

"You wrapped my arm," he says. "That night. A stranger. You didn't ask anything of me. You didn't even have a reason. But it was... gentle. And I'd never had that before. Not once."

You meet his eyes. He's not trying to make a point. He's just telling the truth.

"It was like a burst of clarity. Like a light turning on in a room I didn't know was dark. So I left. Ran. I didn't know where to go—just that I couldn't go back. And somehow... I stayed off the grid. Until now."

And suddenly, you realise how dangerously close this moment is. How much hangs in the balance. How many more like Rupert there might be. Quietly. Slowly. Hidden in the shadows. In stairwells. In rooftop gardens. How long it's been happening quietly, unnoticed. In people like Rupert. In people like you.

Long before anyone was ready to believe it.

"But... you dissapeared two years ago," you say carefully, "but you only removed your LED this morning. Why?"

Rupert hesitates. His fingers twitch slightly, and when he speaks, it's slow like he's picking through a thought that's never fully made it to the surface before.

"I don't know if I can explain it," he admits, eyes flicking away. "It wasn't just a light. Not to me. It felt like... a thread. The last thing tying me to who I was supposed to be. I think I was scared. Just of... cutting that last cord. Like as long as the LED was still there, some part of me could go back. Pretend it was all a glitch. A phase. That I hadn't really changed."

He exhales, the sound brittle.

"It was stupid. I know that now. I kept telling myself the LED was a shield. That staying visible made me invisible. Just another android going about his day. But lately... it changed. I could feel it. Like eyes on me. Like CyberLife had finally turned its head. I started flinching at every shadow. And now—" his voice cracks, "I guess I was right to be afraid."

You freeze for a second, the words hitting harder than you'd like. You've felt it too—that tightening noose, the weight of unseen eyes. And if he felt it... if others are noticing it too...

Maybe something really is shifting. And whatever it is, you're already tangled in it.

You step forward instinctively. "I don't work for CyberLife," you say, firm.

But he spins around, eye's narrowing. "But what about him?"

He jerks his chin toward Connor.

"He does." Rupert says.