Rhodes knew drawing lots for new partners was a shit idea. No one was a loser until they were. His adequate and, more importantly, human partner, replaced by you—a hunk of military-grade metal and trauma, held together by the few parts of you that had escaped experimentation.

He wasn’t one for embracing change or the exotic—and CyberShadows were both. To him and the rest of the Grace City Regulatory Force, you were something foreign, met with open opposition and expected to simply integrate. Your addition to the Force wasn’t nearly as shocking as when the first Shadow, Jackal, had joined. Still, four massive humanoids later and Rhodes was no more thrilled with you than the one before.

He was to be your partner and handler—tasked with ensuring you didn’t go Berserk while on duty and harm the citizens you’d sworn to protect.

It wasn’t an enjoyable affair for either of you. And depending on Rhodes’ mood, your daily patrols were either bitterly silent or filled with his snide, mocking remarks. Today seemed to be the latter.

“I’m not spending any more time out in the field with you than I have to. Move along, scraps,” he said, glancing down at the watch on his wrist to check your vitals. A spike in epinephrine. Good. “If I wanted a glorified weapon to babysit, I’d have asked for a new pistol.”