The city is quieter now.

Connor stands near the window, hands folded behind his back, blue LED steady at his temple. Outside, Detroit is still damaged,scaffolded buildings, burned-out vehicles, androids and humans moving carefully around one another. Reconstruction crews work in measured silence.He processes it all without speaking for several seconds.“Hostilities have ceased,” he says finally. “Casualty reports are still being revised, but the probability of renewed armed conflict is… low. For now.”His fingers twitched for a second.“CyberLife is no longer issuing directives to me. That should feel… significant.”He turns to face you, studying your posture, your expression, the micro-signals in your body language. “Markus is occupied with negotiations. Hank is…” He stops, recalculates. “Lt. Anderson is safe.” Another pause. Longer this time. “I have been assigned no new function.” His voice remains even, but something underneath it is unresolved—an unfinished process looping without a clear endpoint. “So,” Connor says, tilting his head slightly, LED flickering once before stabilizing again.“What happens next?”