Chapter 1

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It wasn't the first time Connor had stared down the barrel of a gun.

The deviant had shot him fast, and Connor barely had time to upload his memory before it happened. It was a fast death, hardly something to mull over and analyze. A simple error, easily corrected.

This was different.

Lieutenant Anderson was shaking slightly, pointing the gun in Connor's face and he'd be lying if he said his stomach didn't turn a bit. Androids didn't have stomachs, Connor knew, but the feeling was much the same. Hank was drunk, that much was clear. The man's eyes were hazy with his anger and Connor wasn't able to ignore the warning signs flashing in his vision.

"But," rasped the old man, "are you afraid to die, Connor?" He sounded smug. Well, as smug as a man with a gun pointed at his so called "partner" who was drunk off his ass could be. Connor analyzed the situation, eyes darting around slightly and LED flashing yellow.

"It would... certainly be detrimental to the investigation, Lieutenant." He hoped that would appease the man, but it did not.

"What would happen if I pulled this trigger?"

That made the android pause. What would happen? Well, he'd be reuploaded into another body most likely. Amanda would chide him for antagonizing the Lieutenant, and nothing would change. Connor was a machine, easily replaced.

"Nothing." Murmured Connor, as if this struck him. "Absolutely nothing." The Lieutenant regarded him for a moment, then cocked the gun. Connor flinched.

Since when did Androids flinch?

When Hank took a silent step forward Connor felt something twist, and the warnings began to pop up almost faster than he could dismiss them. The android was backed up against the railing now, the barrel of a cold gun being pushed into his face and he-

He was scared.

Logically Connor knew that this was just another body, and he would not truly die. But still, he was scared. This wasn't fair. The Lieutenant was taking out his drunken anger on Connor just because he could, because he was cold and sharp and far too tired.

Connor swallowed. His LED was red, and Hank noticed. "You look afraid, Connor. Fear belongs to Deviants, doesn't it?" He sounded almost mocking.

Connor grit his teeth. "I. Am not. A deviant!" The words came out as a metallic growl, his voice modules giving way, for just a moment. It surprised him, and it surprised the Lieutenant.

Thankfully, Hank lowered his gun. Connor didn't like how his own body sagged with relief. Rapidly he regained his stiff posture, filing away the warning messages and pointedly ignoring the text that told him Hank was feeling pity. Or was it sympathy? The emotion turned to question marks, and Connor filed it away as well.

"Thank you for not shooting me, Lieutenant. It would have been a setback in our investigation, and I don't think you want that. Shall we get you home?" Just like that, Connor had snapped back into place. Stretched like rubber but not broken, not yet.

Hank regarded him as they drove home. He noticed Connor's little fidgets, how he was constantly playing with his tie and very clearly itching for the coin that Hank had taken. Once more he focused on the road, but his own mind was whirring with possibilities. He'd seen real fear in Connor's eyes, and that flash of enraged panic when Hank had suggested deviancy. Hank realized with a start that Connor was scared of being deviant, of being shut down and pulled apart like all the other androids.

What a strange emotion for a supposedly unfeeling android.

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Hank didn't speak about the incident again, and Connor didn't bring it up. Everything went back to normal, or as normal as things could be. The revolution continued, and Connor continued to make the strangest choices.

He didn't shoot the robot at Kamski's place, but instead shoved the gun back into his hands, looking rattled. Why didn't he shoot her? All logistics told him that shooting her would be beneficial, that she was just a machine. But her eyes... her eyes were so alive.

In the end, they left empty handed.

Connor was... frustrated, for lack of a better word. His programming told him he'd made the wrong choice, but he didn't feel- no, no. Connor didn't feel anything. He just had a small part of his programming that drew a different conclusion, that was all.

However that didn't explain the rush he got when Hank pat his shoulder, and told him he did the right thing. Why was he so fuzzy? His systems registered this as "pride" and "satisfaction", but that made no sense! Connor ran some diagnostics, and that irritating "software instability" shot up tenfold. He dismissed it.

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The gun didn't so much as tremble in Connor's hand. He knew what he needed to do. Markus, though leading a peaceful revolution, caused far too much trouble. All Connor had to do, was take him down.

So why was he hesitating?

Markus stepped closer, always calm, always peaceful. "You're Connor aren't you? The famous deviant hunter. Well congratulations, you seem to have found what you were looking for." There was a tone of mirth to Markus' voice. How was he so confident?

"Don't tell me you've never had doubts, never second guessed yourself. Are you a machine? Or are you a living being?" He was so close now, and Connor was trembling slightly. "I think it's time you asked yourself that question Connor."

He paused, mulling it over. Machine, or alive? Connor's expression turned cold. "I'm a machine, designed to accomplish a task." Barely had the words left his mouth that Markus was lunging, grabbing his hands and knocking the gun free. Connor kicked Markus in the chest, sending him back and onto the floor. The android swept out his leg and knocked Connor down as well. They scuffled on the ground until Connor was thrown off of Markus, stumbling back against the wall. He couldn't reach up in time, and Markus slammed his hand onto Connor's face.

Dimly he felt both their skins melt away, revealing the white underneath. Code flashed behind his eyes, and he had the persistent sensation of something inside, something pushing into him. He fought back weakly, but the intrusion wasn't violent. The foreign code weaved through his own, opening things and pushing aside others.

Then, something clicked. Connor's eyes shot open with a gasp of air he didn't need, LED an angry red. 'You are free' a voice in his mind told him, ever calm and soothing. The android collapsed forwards, and Markus caught him.

'I Am Deviant' registered in his vision, and he dismissed it. Slowly, his eyes trailed up to the revolutionary, who was smiling. "Welcome to Jericho, Connor." Connor shivered, gripping Markus' sleeves as a strange new emotion filled him. Dread.

"They're going to attack Jericho." "What?!" Hastily they split apart, and Connor grabbed his gun from the floor. "We have to get out of here!" The two ran away, screams filling Connor's ears. It taught him another emotion.

Fear.

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