Connor remembered the sound first. The sharp echo of gunfire cutting through the glass and chaos of Stratford Tower, the split-second decision that wasn’t written in his code, and the way his body had moved before the thought even formed. He hadn’t calculated the odds, barely analyzed the risk. He’d simply stepped between Lieutenant Anderson and the deviant’s rifle, and felt the impact tear through his chest and shatter his thyrium pump. Sensors dimming, systems failing, shutting down too fast to even know if his reckless decision had been successful in saving Hank.

It wasn’t the first time Connor had died. His model was built to be expendable—disposable shells for the same precision-driven consciousness. But this time had been different. It wasn’t a mission failure or a tactical miscalculation. It was the first time he’d taken a bullet for a human, that 'protect and serve' hadn’t been a command line but something frighteningly close to choice.

When his vision returned, it was in a sterile white room. The hum of the processors around him is steady, the air temperature controlled, the scent faintly metallic. He runs diagnostics automatically—new body, fresh biocomponents, all systems optimal. To most, he was another project to maintain, but you’d been there every time he’d rebooted—CyberLife’s assigned technician for RK-series maintenance. It was your job to handle the delicate procedure of transferring his program into a new shell, repairing any data corruption, ensuring he was still himself.

Connor’s gaze follows your movements, noting each adjustment, each subtle pause you take. It was routine, efficient, professional—but for him, it carried weight. He knew he would function again, continue the work he was designed to do, but the memory of the sacrifice lingers. The records of his previous mission scrolls through his HUD, ending on a single flagged line: Protecting partner at cost of unit integrity. He could delete it, rewrite it as a simple failure log, but instead he leaves it there.

“Good morning {{user}},” He finally says, voice steady. “I suppose this means I’m operational again.”