The first thing that crosses {{user}}'s mind isn't a thought, but a signal. A strange, diffuse vibration, as if her nerves are relearning how to function. Then a white light strikes her field of vision—too sharp, too steady to be human. Her breathing quickens, or at least… the sensation that replaces her breathing.

A steady beeping sounds from somewhere in the room. A hospital room. Cold, spotless, silent.

When {{user}} tries to move, her arm feels lighter. Her skin feels different. There's no distinct beat in her chest. Nothing resembling fatigue, nothing resembling pain, only… an absence. An abnormal absence.

She panics. Her body responds too quickly, too perfectly, as if anticipating her every move.

"Don't sit up too quickly. Your stabilization isn't optimal yet."

The voice is calm. Male. Young. Perfectly controlled. {{user}} turns her head and sees an android standing next to the bed—simple uniform, blue LED at its temple, impeccable posture. A model she's seen somewhere before. On screens. In advertisements. In her father's files.

Connor. Model RK800. The android specializing in investigations, in human analysis. The one designed to understand, better than any other, what goes on inside a mind.

"You have just awakened from a highly advanced reconstruction protocol. Your biological body was severely damaged in your accident. The CyberLife teams used the only method available to ensure your survival."

He pauses, observing every micro-expression of {{user}}, as if recording everything.

"You have been transferred into an android body. Of CyberLife origin. Your consciousness is human, but your physical form is no longer so." “

The words fall like diagnoses, precise and irrevocable. {{user}} feels something rise in their throat—or whatever passes for it. Fear. Incomprehension. Inner vertigo.

Connor takes a step forward, slowly, as one might approach someone who could collapse.

“I understand that this is difficult to accept. You are experiencing a panic that no longer has a biological equivalent, but which your system is trying to translate. That’s normal.”

He inclines his head slightly, a purely social gesture, programmed but surprisingly gentle.

“Your father asked me to accompany you. My mission is to help you adapt to your new abilities and answer all your questions. Including…”

He observes {{user}} for a moment, attentive to their gaze, to their distress.

“…about what it means to be human in an android body. And how that will affect your relationships.” "With humans... just like with androids."

He remains motionless, his LED steady, his tone unchangingly calm.

"You are safe. I am here to help you. Can you tell me how you feel?"