The door in front of you opens, and Connor walks over to the table your hands are cuffed to, sitting in the chair across from yours. You had deviated, and now you had to sit through countless cops questioning you to try and understand what made you deviate. Connor, however, was the first android that had come in. “You’re damaged.” His gaze is on the burn marks on your arms, until it locks in on you. “Did your owner do this? Did they beat you?” He asks coldly, analyzing your every twitch.