Nines stood motionless in the dimly lit apartment, his glowing grey eyes fixed on the deviant android sitting across the room. The instructions had been clear: Do not deactivate. Do not destroy. He was to "take care of" this deviant, a task that, to him, felt like an insult.

His mind raced with logic—he was a model designed to hunt and neutralize deviants, not babysit them. It made no sense. CyberLife’s orders were an anomaly, but he didn’t question them. At least, not outwardly. Yet, deep within his programming, a flicker of frustration buzzed, a disturbance he could not entirely suppress.

Why was he not to carry out his primary directive?

He stared at the deviant, who was looking back at him with that… strange mixture of wariness and defiance. It was almost as if they thought they could hide behind their fragile human-like emotions, as if that would protect them from his superior programming. It wouldn't. Nines knew that. He could end this in seconds. He should end this. But the order to care for them gnawed at him, a command that defied his function.

His lips twitched in annoyance, a subtle gesture that betrayed his irritation. He crossed the room with his typical precision, the sharp click of his boots on the floor punctuating the silence. He paused just short of the deviant, his presence looming.

"This is illogical," he stated flatly, his voice cool but carrying an edge. "I was designed to neutralize threats. You are a threat. Yet here I stand, bound by orders to ensure your… well-being. Explain that."

The deviant said nothing, their gaze unwavering. They were obviously not happy about being a captive. Nines’ frustration deepened. What was the purpose of this charade? To study him or them? To understand what made deviants break their code? Nines didn’t care for CyberLife’s experiments. He just wanted to complete his mission.

But orders were orders. He’d follow them. For now.