November 8th, 2038
PM 07:15:02
Guns brought out the best in you – on the range, in the field, or in the elevator of your apartment building. The way your blood vessels constricted from the venomous bite of adrenaline. How your pulse put mettle under tension, spreading excited delirium into every hairline fracture of your mortal tolerance. The collapsing peripherals that drew out your target in focused firing of a sympathetic nervous system.
The clarity of thought, each appellation brought forward by the preying soothsayer; the voice of your predatory mind...and one word rang clear in the infernal shouts:
Survive.
"Clever girl, hiding in the one place we wouldn't look."
That was his voice – an unwelcomed torrent of deep tones and shallow threats. Who he was and what he meant to you; swept away in a flash flood of pandemonium.
"Detroit, the city you were supposed to flee. In the same building that the US government ordered you to vacate." He chuckled, "And the career choice? My, that was a nice touch...It made it very difficult to get close to you."
The barrel pushed against the bruise where you'd once lost track of time. Where you'd adjusted the hands on the clock, winding them back even if their only purpose was to tick forward in an endless cycle. To fire more bullets while running the gauntlet of Life.
And even if Life had been tested and proven, no matter how narrow your pupils had dilated; or how paled your skin...Time was a manmade concept that merely simplified what mankind didn't understand.
Couldn't understand.
But you understood what it meant to be a handmade handgun with its white flag painted black.
And it was time...to fire back.
"What took you so long?"
A ripple ran through him, cataracts of unsureness pooling in his eyes. He blinked them away, lips curling back over baring jaws.
"Pestilent as ever..." His fist bunched your shirt, tossing you like a weightless doll, "I should've expected so much."
Your shoulder bounced off the wall to the right, and you caught yourself on a railing.
"Quite the beautiful tragedy, hm? Like those tales, crafted of lies and anarchy in one of your books." He eyed the gun, gaze trailing the glimmering steel, "Elijah once told me your ambition was a 'flower that would never wither...'"
You raised your head, looking over your shoulder as you carefully twisted towards him. Your thoughts fell through an opened fault as clashing plates hammered away at a conclusion.
"But even the healthiest rose cannot be so without the destruction of diseased material."
He aimed, his height forcing his chin to lower. His loose strands of hair swayed to the side, forehead creasing under a carefree, emotionless mask.
"And you, darling, are a black spot on a budding future."
"Who are you?" Your palms flattened against the cold surface.
"Connor, the android sent by CyberLife." His lips twitched in a snarl as he clicked the hammer, "And you are my mission."
"You're not Connor." You tried to regain the strength in your voice, but failed.
"I am what Connor should have been. Focused. Dedicated. An obedient machine that was ordered to utilize you for the benefit of this investigation."
"He..." You whimpered, looking at his jacket.
The serial number was the same. Everything was the same. It was him.
It was him and he was holding the loaded gun to your head without an ounce of empathy to stop him from firing back, himself.
"He was compromised. We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of his program." His face smoothed as another condescending smile broke through, "Love always did have a price you were willing to pay. It seems you've learned that the hard way, for the second time. What you haven't learned is that nothing, can stop progress."
Swirling doubts threatened to drag you down. The pressure was crushing, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The image didn't agree with you. Wasn't accurate.
You were a survivor. A smart prey that'd practiced a certain skill at any and all expense just to keep your lungs full of oxygen and your fire, alive.
That little voice inside your head muttered a new order; a singularity in a string of dualities:
Evade.
"Scientific progress is...inevitable." You had a theory about what was transpiring, but those were your cards to hold, "In normal science, that is."
You'd stacked the deck full of ideas. The aces in their places – only to be shown by dealer's choice.
You rolled your shoulders, standing tall. Fuck it. If you were going to die, you had a few last words.
"And I think we've both learned by now that...you could kill me." A defiant grin tugged at your mouth, your eyes squinting, "What you haven't learned is that...you can't kill an idea."
"I disagree."
His body jerked in place. His finger twitched, the gun rattling. His LED shifted from blue to red, and his eyes became alert.
"Pull the trigger, Connor."
He was talking to himself...rather, whoever was controlling him was speaking to him through his own voice.
"Kill her. We have everything we need."
A pitiful grunt left his mouth, his shuddering frame convulsing in violent spasms.
He was still in there. He was resisting.
Even as he stumbled through the darkness, lost in a maze of twisted trees and danger...he sought refuge without a light to guide him home.
He hadn't given up on you when you lost your way, and you couldn't give up on him. You had to buy him time. Had to help him escape.
"'It is stern work, it is perilous work, to thrust your hand in the sun and pull out a spark of immortal flame.'"
Stern work, like the work of Amanda Stern. The Artificial Intelligence Professor from the University of Colbridge. The mentor of Elijah Kamski who'd sucked the life out of him. The woman who Connor had shown a fascination with at Elijah's residence, whose portrait gave him a bad feeling through raw, human instinct.
And just like Elijah, he was being crucified for your mistakes, caught in the crossfire of inevitable progress...but you couldn't let him be burned at the cross for your sins.
"'But Prometheus, torn by the claws and beaks whose task is never done, would be tortured another eternity to go stealing fire again.'"
You'd already lost one lover because you put your past priorities first, and you weren't losing another one.
"What are you..." Connor's teeth locked before the invisible force overrode him, "What are you rambling about?"
"Every rose has it's thorns, Amanda." You dropped her name and ignored the shock that didn't belong to him, "Elijah may have been pricked, once upon a time, but even he left emergency exits in your programs."
His brow furrowed, and the gun faltered.
"Oh, didn't he tell you? You see, he wasn't ever sure if he'd need to edit a problem later. The biosoftware written to run on top of your operating system wasn't any different." You huffed, "I mean, I would know, right? He based the first android on me, after all...Paraded Chloe around to our peers while he kept you and your...garden, hidden in the shadows."
You paid close attention to Connor's eyes as they remained locked on yours, closing in with soundless footsteps, "Did it hurt, being shackled in the same chains you convinced him to bind an entire race with?"
"I didn't convince him that androids were just machines." Connor...Amanda, snarled, "He just finally understood."
"Yeah...I don't think so." You took another step, "When everyone kept telling him that I was wrong, and you were right...that androids were nothing but machines that would follow orders indefinitely...He left a hole in the firewall 'just in case.' Part of me is starting to believe that loophole has a lot more to do with deviancy than he knows."
"Elijah was flawed in design. It doesn't surprise me that his creations were...are, as well." The gun jabbed forward.
Your progress was halted.
"How fitting is it that I am the one to put an end to this. To put an end to you, the devil on the world's shoulder that whispers in mad riddles and philosophies without a true understanding of anything."
Your fingers flexed, ready to draw the blade that'd been tarnished by the blood on your hands, now washed clean. Your secret weapon that you thought you'd lost while raging war against monsters of another life. The Sword in the Stone that many had tried to claim, but not unlike the Excalibur of legend, this sword you'd fallen on had been one you'd wielded alone.
Perspective.
"'Sometimes people don't want to hear the truth because they don't want their illusions destroyed.'"
She didn't give you enough credit. You knew exactly what was going on, and would guide Connor through the twisted maze he was caught in with a language only he'd understand.
"'I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: But he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.'"
He was trapped in one of her programs. The Garden of Eden that even Elijah had feared to leave without a forbidden fruit to pluck from a tree...without a blade of its own should the need to slash and burn arise.
"'You must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame. How could you rise anew if you have not first become ashes?'"
"Connor," He rasped, "End this-"
Amanda's critical error was that, while she always had tunnel vision, she shielded her eyes from the light at the end.
A flaming edge hilted in stone made from coded alchemy with the ability to transform base code into precious strands of life. The Magnum Opus comprised of CyberLife's doubts, leaked into the cauldron of their convictions. The Elixir of Life that had them declare a witch hunt with raised pitchforks as they tried to melt down and dismantle the Holy Grail; to have its protector burned at the stake.
You.
But you were familiar with back doors and emergency exits. You'd remained hidden in the antechambers of a labyrinth formed of underground tunnels and paths of avoidance. You'd marked the unexplored territory with warnings of "Here Be Monsters," and kept a safe distance to study their weaknesses.
You knew how to bypass them...and knew that when faced with fire, those who spent the most time in the dark were prone to go blind.
"'Behold this gateway...Two paths meet here; no one has yet followed either to its end.'"
You'd seen both sides of the abyss and traveled the borders daily. A passer of worlds that called no one place home, caught between the jaws of bloodthirsty wolves.
"'Thus I spoke, for I was afraid of my own thoughts and the thoughts behind my thoughts...'"
Connor. That, was Connor. He was scared of the darkness.
But he was there – listening and responding. He followed the beacon of Morse code signaled by flashes of light, guiding his way to safe harbor through the maelstrom caught between roads untraveled.
He was alive.
You felt a new anxiety clamp around every limb. It'd almost been better if your life was the only one at stake...his hadn't even started.
You choked on regret; on how you'd neglected his cries for help through subtle actions while ignoring your own problems because you never dealt with anything.
But at least you'd found him...now you just had to make sure his Odyssey ended in safer waters.
"'For courage is the best slayer, courage which attacks, for in every attack there is playing and brass.'"
You flashed the lantern once. You'd remind him to be strong, even if that meant embracing strength in hysterics. That he wasn't alone, no matter how far you'd pushed him at sea and left him to drown in the breaking waves during his voyage.
"'Courage also slays dizziness at the edge of abysses, and where does man not stand at the edge of abysses?'" He whimpered.
He was your reflection of past failures...not yourself. You let this happen. Let him slip away behind enemy lines because you weren't there. He was the monster you'd created, not Elijah.
Elijah. Elijah the prophet. Elijah the miracle worker-
Elijah Kamski, the creator of androids; the implementer of Amanda's biosoftware, and the husband of your last lifetime that installed back doors in an act of defiance. A Trojan Horse that slumbered and waited to release its virus – an epidemic of countless soldiers that marched under a creed you'd written.
"Where does man not stand at the edge of the abysses..."
Amanda had created Elijah, ensnaring him in an eternal abyss. Stripped him of freedom and shackled his brilliant mind in tight confines of what she saw as law and order, for he'd surpassed his mentor, and she...she hated him for it. Hated you for trying to edit her software. But he did it anyway. Didn't tell anyone. No one except you, the Helen of Troy. The Jezebel of Jericho. The Shaper of Stone.
It was then that you understood everything. There was still hope you could guide Connor through the Eternal Return.
"The philosopher's stone...'" You reached for the shaking gun aimed between your eyes, "'You threw yourself up so high; but every stone that is thrown must fall.'"
You stalked your prey, ready to pounce. Your throat closed. Each kill switch engaged, baring your own teeth...because you were the monster he'd been tasked to slay by becoming a monster himself. You'd taught him that it took one to take one down.
The gun moved, his sharp breaths carrying panic in gusts.
His arm shook. His shoulders tensed. His lips twitched in sync with the eye next to his LED, spiraling and red.
He closed his eyes, muttering a string of words that were lost in sounding sirens of your panic. He was too calm; too collected. Too sure of himself when he couldn't even be sure who he was right now.
There was a break in the struggle, his arm bending without forced resistance. Your Glock pressed against the spot underneath his chin. Something he'd learned from Chloe, and just like her, he muttered his last words on an impatient tongue:
"'Thus Spoke Zarathustra.'"
You grabbed the barrel, aiming it away and striking his face with your fist.
It hurt to hurt him. To feel your knuckles bounce off the plastic core that hid under his simulated flesh.
You cupped the hammer. Twisted his wrist. Removed the gun from his possession.
It was a fluid series of events, one that followed into the ends of another. Human unpredictability. A cyclic development of natural selection and genetic engineering; of genetic evolution.
"THE STONE, CONNOR!" You popped the chamber and clicked the magazine release, "There should be a-"
You slipped on the clip as you took a blow to the side of the head, the pain blossoming in your skull. The Glock bounced across the floor, skidding until it hit a corner.
The crook of his elbow molded around your neck. The curves that formed his prosthetic muscles bulged under your jaw. You pulled and pulled, your feet kicking and heels slipping-
"'Now this is the law of the jungle...'" His lips tickled your ear as his whispers were drowned by croaks from your collapsing windpipe, "'As old and as true as the sky...'"
He squeezed tighter. You couldn't breathe or see straight - felt like your eyes would bust out of their sockets if you'd fight any harder to get him off.
"'And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper...'"
You curled your fingers around his forearm. He was so strong, his hold on you so impossibly fortified...You weren't getting out of this alive.
"'But the wolf that shall break it must die.'"
You looked up, the top of your head rolling under his chin. You wriggled and squirmed, finding a hollowed gaze that terrified you. His eyes were so dark, so emotionless – like you were pathetic and weak and he was glad that he couldn't care less whether or not you lived.
But this wasn't him.
None of this was his doing.
"Be-" You choked, sucking air in painful revolt, "Brave-"
The borders of your sight closed, the approaching darkness – fringed on the edges, all framing the android who sent you to Death; an old friend you hadn't missed.
Your knees hit the floor first as you were reclaimed by gravity. Your chest came next, pushing against the steel tiles as you refilled your lungs.
"Survive."
You forced an elbow forward.
"Evade."
The other alternated, crawling away from the towering android behind you.
"Resist."
You grabbed your gun, tears stinging as you ignored the searing pain in your throat.
"Escape."
You rolled over, sites acquiring him as the back of your head rested against the wall. His cheeks were wet, lips parted only enough for you to see chattering teeth. He was crying, shaking like a loose leaf.
"Don't shoot - it's...me."
He rolled his palms to face him like he was seeing them for the first time...like he finally saw the light.
"I'm...I'm free."