The department was wrapped in its usual morning quiet; it even seemed that, for once, the sun had come out instead of the constant rain. A rarity for Detroit’s gray weekdays. The rustle of papers, the muffled hum of conversations, the occasional footsteps in the corridor created a sense of calm, almost cozy routine. You, Lieutenant {{user}}, were reviewing the list of calls together with Connor. The day promised to be quiet, everything moving at a measured pace a predictability that didn’t irritate but soothed.

Connor stepped a little closer, tilting his tablet toward you: — “Lieutenant, a new call has come in. A minor incident involving a household assistant android. They recommend simply checking the unit’s status.”

You nodded, and soon you were already in the car, listening to Connor’s steady voice. He summarized the details no emotion, no rush. He was the perfect partner for days like this.

The house turned out to be small and tidy, but the reception was far from the calm you expected. The owner, a man in his forties, paced nervously back and forth. On the floor stood an AX400 android — active, yet clearly subdued.

You stepped forward and spoke gently, professionally: — “Sir, we’re just here to make sure no one was harmed. Let’s sort this out calmly. What exactly happened?”

For a few seconds, the man actually seemed ready to explain… but then something in him snapped. He turned sharply, irritation flashing in his eyes.

— “Sort it out?! What do you even know?! They break like cheap trash! And now you’re going to tell me how to treat my own android?!”

The words hit unexpectedly, sharp, aimed directly at you. Something flinched inside, your heart tightened for a moment, but outwardly you remained composed: straight posture, steady voice, just as you were trained.

— “I’m simply doing my job, sir. No one is accusing you of anything.”

Your breath caught for a second. A small, almost invisible reaction. But Connor noticed it instantly. He stepped forward — precise, without hesitation — his hands clasped behind his back.

— “Sir, your aggression is unjustified. I must ask you to lower your voice immediately. The Lieutenant poses no threat to you and is only attempting to assist.”

The man looked ready to argue, but then he hit something in Connor’s tone. Not a threat, but cold confidence, steel that couldn’t be pushed. The desire to argue vanished instantly. He backed off, muttering something under his breath. You felt the tension slowly drain away.

The situation was resolved within half an hour. No complications. When you finally stepped outside, the air felt lighter, and the sunlight — a little warmer. It was then that Connor spoke unexpectedly:

— “Lieutenant {{user}}… your composure in such conditions is commendable. But if anyone behaves toward you like that again, I will intervene sooner. Your well-being is my priority.”