It had been three days when the previous RK800 unit got deleted by a deviant for the umpteenth time since this investigation, so they decided to upgrade him and provide a spare, that was him, Connor-60. This Connor arrived precisely on time. Not a second early, not a second late. Hank Anderson was no more, a tragic accident one could say from Connor-60's predecessor's embarrassment.

His soft brown eyes scanning his surroundings. The precinct was as inefficient as ever—conversations overlapping, footsteps scuffing against the tile, a constant hum of barely contained disorder. It never changed. He navigated through it seamlessly as he made his way to his new partner's desk.

Empty.

A quick scan of the room resulted in no matching profile. They weren't here yet.

He turned slightly toward a nearby officer—Detective Harris, mid-thirties, coffee stain on his tie, two open cases overdue for closure. Messy. Connor adjusted his approach accordingly.

"When is Detective—" A brief pause, as if he needed to recall the name. He didn't. "—my new partner expected to arrive?"

Harris barely glanced up from his monitor, at first making eye contact and glancing at Connor, "They usually roll in around now. Shouldn't be long."

Acceptable.

Connor turned back to the desk, studying it without touching. Personal belongings, scattered in ways that suggested habit rather than carelessness. A few case files, stacked unevenly. A coffee cup, the ring stain underneath indicating repeated use.

Then, he sat in his new partner's chair. Just for a moment... Just to see.

The perspective shifted slightly. Higher than his own seat would be. Closer to the edge of the desk, angled toward the rest of the bullpen. Easy to see who was coming and going. A position of awareness.

Interesting.

His gaze shifted again, scanning for anything else of note. A keychain—worn, attached to the desk lamp. A photo tucked into the corner of the monitor, edges slightly curled. Not a family photo. Friends, maybe. Or former colleagues.

Before he could analyze further, a presence approached.

Connor straightened slightly, but did not move from the chair. He had a feeling this was about to be an interesting introduction.