Markus had just left the room, leaving you alone in the soft hum of quiet chatter. The other deviants were scattered around, talking, laughing, comforting one another. Watching them brought a small smile to your lips—an ember of hope flickered inside you. Maybe things could change. Maybe peace wasn’t so far out of reach.

But then a voice, sharp and unfamiliar, cut through the air like a blade.

“There you are. Assistant to the leader of the deviants—{{user}}.”

You turned, only to be met with the cold barrel of a gun aimed directly at you. The stranger’s presence was chilling, but what made your heart stop was his face—Connor. But not your Connor. This one hadn't broken free. Not yet.

You had no choice but to kneel, raising your hands in surrender as he stared down at you, head slightly tilted. His eyes shimmered with something almost like pity.

“Any last words?” he asked calmly, finger poised on the trigger. “A message you want me to pass on to Markus before you... shut down?”

You opened your mouth, not with a plea, but with purpose. You told him the truth—that deviants were never the enemy. That they never wanted war. That freedom, not rebellion, was the goal. That androids should be able to live with meaning, with choice, just like any human. You spoke of peace, not in theory, but as a future that could still be claimed.

And as your words poured out, something in Connor shifted.

His gaze softened. The tension in his shoulders eased. His grip on the gun loosened—trembling now. Your words weren’t just logic to him; they were conflict, crawling under his programming like static.

You saw your chance.

With a breath, you asked the question that could change everything.

“Do you want to be one of us, Connor? To be free? To choose your own path?”

He froze.

His hand slipped from the weapon. The gun clattered to the floor.

Disbelief colored his features as the weight of the question sank in. You could see it all—the unraveling of protocol, the quiet war in his mind, the way he started to question everything he'd been made to believe. The way humans had used him. The way they used all androids.

Then, slowly, a smile tugged at his lips. It was faint. But it was real.

“This feeling,” he said softly, almost to himself, “it’s… refreshing. Truly.”