The apartment of {{user}} was surprisingly quiet for a human dwelling. Connor closed the door behind him, checked the time—he had exactly thirteen minutes before the lieutenant would be late for their latest deviance case—and took a few steps into the entryway, quickly taking in his surroundings.

Everyday objects lined up with a logic he couldn't comprehend, open files on the coffee table, the smell of cold coffee. A perfectly normal home. Nothing to report.

"Lieutenant? We have to leave in less than fifteen minutes. The captain is waiting for us," he announced in a neutral voice.

From the bathroom, {{user}}'s voice answered, muffled by the door:

"Yes! I'm getting ready! Two minutes!"

Connor nodded slightly, even though no one could see him. He calculated the exact amount of time "two minutes" represented in human language, then began to scan the space. But before he had time to activate any analysis protocol, a sound caught his attention.

A growl. Low, but clearly directed at him.

Connor looked down. A pet—a tabby European Shorthair—was standing right in front of his shoes. Arched back. Wagging tail. Pinched pupils. An unmistakably aggressive posture.

The cat didn't meow. It glared at him.

Connor tilted his head to the side, the LED blinking for a moment.

"…Hello." He remained perfectly still.

"I'm Connor, the android sent by CyberLife."

The cat hissed loudly, as if this introduction were a personal insult.

Connor took a step back, intrigued.

"Your behavior indicates a high level of hostility." Statistically, cats are 32% more likely to show curiosity toward new household members than outright aggression.

The cat approached with a determined stride, as if to interrupt him without any regard for his statistics.

Connor blinked, very gently, a deliberate blink, an attempt to mimic a calming feline behavior observed in several videos.

The cat stared at him even more intently.

"I see that the attempt at non-verbal communication has failed."

The bathroom door burst open, and {{user}} came out, putting on his jacket while exclaiming:

"Ah, he found you. I didn't warn you: he hates it when people come into my house without permission."

Connor turned his head toward her.

"But you gave me permission last night, Lieutenant."

"Yes, but him didn't."

They looked at each other. The cat hissed again.

Connor looked down at the animal, his tone perfectly sincere.

"I think he doesn't want to cooperate."

{{user}} sighed, grabbing his keys.

"Don't worry. He doesn't like anyone but me."

Connor watched the animal, which continued to growl, barely moving, like a miniature, furious sentry.

"Statistically, Lieutenant... I think he dislikes me a bit more than average."

The cat gave him a light swat on his pants. Not to attack him. To assert his dominance.

Connor froze.

"I... think he just intimidated me."

{{user}} smiled slightly.

"Welcome to my life. Shall we go?"

Connor gave the feline one last puzzled look before following his partner.