Androids are not born.

They do not have family.

They do not feel pain, or love.

They are not human.

They exist to fight,

To protect,

And to die,

So that humanity may live.

Hank looked blearily into the bottom of his glass. Empty. He had grown to despise the look of an empty glass. He supposed there could be something deeper there about them reminding him of himself or some such shit, but he was pretty sure he just hated the absence of alcohol.

Best to remedy the situation as soon as possible.

He held the glass up to the bartender without raising his head, he figured the request was clear enough, but when the container wasn't immediately filled he looked up in annoyance.

The bartender, Hank hadn't bothered to learn his name, but he knew it wasn't Jimmy despite the name of the bar in neon lights outside, was staring with wide eyes at something just over Hank's shoulder.

The man sighed, and dropped the cup onto the bar top.

Hank reached into the folds of the long, black jacket to retrieve his gun.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Anderson." A voice came from behind him. Hank glanced over his right shoulder and locked eyes with the android.

He was mildly surprised to find that it was an android, but not that surprised. Besides, it being an android made what he was about to do a lot easier.

Hank used his other hand, the one not reaching for his gun, to slip a knife from his boot. He spun quickly and slashed at the android, relishing the idea of cutting up that neat blue tie and popping a few buttons on the inhumanly clean shirt.

The android leapt back with astonishing speed, even for a high quality bodyguard droid, and Hank would know, he'd destroyed enough of them. The man didn't let up, moving in for another attack, a stab this time, at the android's throat.

The android stopped his hand easily, expression unchanging and a single lock of brown hair falling over his face. Hank pulled his gun with his free arm. The android lifted the arm it had a hold of and twisted to crouch under it.

Hank tried to move his gun to aim at the thing, but found that wrist caught in an iron grip as well. The android stood up, its shoulder finding Hank's armpit. It used the control it had of both his arms and its waist to lift Hank from where he was standing and throw him over its back.

Hank shouted angrily as he was tossed to the ground, but before he could slam into it, the android shifted its hold and caught him. Aside from his heels striking the grimy flooring, Hank's fall was completely cushioned and nearly silent. The android's face was inches from his own as he was expertly disarmed, his weapons tossed to opposite sides of the bar as the other patrons fled, their respective androids looming over them and ready to defend them against the potential threat.

"I'm Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife." The android spoke, and promptly dropped Hank the rest of the way. The man huffed angrily and clambered to his feet.

"I don't give a fuck who sent you." He growled, removing another knife from inside his jacket. He raised the rather large blade and his other hand, taking a stance, he was ready to cut the android to ribbons. Connor, for his part, also widened his legs slightly and bent his knees, but his hands remained by his sides.

"That's enough!" Came another voice, the bartender. The man's android was holding a gun from behind the bar and aiming it at Hank. Connor moved between the bartender and Hank in the blink of an eye, his defensive stance now geared to defend more than himself.

The bartender and Hank both registered this with some confusion.

"Get out, both of you." The man said, gesturing to the door, practically using his android as a barricade. His android, for its part, was almost entirely blocking him and never lowered the gun.

Hank huffed and moved to retrieve his weapons. The android watched him the whole time. He marched out the door and Connor followed closely behind him.

Hank rounded on him.

"What the fuck do you want?" He demanded.

"I was sent to find you by Cyberlife." The android explained. Though its hands were now held gently behind its back, it still seemed dangerous to Hank, he had a nose for these things.

"Yeah, you said that, how did they find me?" He asked.

"They didn't, I did. I asked some of your former co-workers at the DPD and they informed me I might find you drinking. This is the fifth bar I searched." Connor stated, and Hank shook his head angrily at the mention of his old job.

He reached behind his head and began pulling his hair into a ponytail. If he was going to have to fight this android, he'd prefer to have his hair out of his face.

"Yeah, well, last I checked I hadn't done anything to piss off Cyberlife, so why the fuck are you here?" Hank questioned, looping his hairband around his silver-grey hair. It was greasy, and a few strands fell from the tight ponytail to hang next to the left side of the man's face.

"I am here to hire you." Connor replied. Hank froze, and stepped closer to the android.

"What does Cyberlife need a private investigator for? They've got enough money that they're bound to have a few of their own." He said, his tone laced with suspicion and his hand moving to rest on the hilt of the larger of his two knives.

"Cyberlife requires more than your investigative talents." Connor said smoothly, and Hank got the message.

He'd been killing androids as long as he'd been an investigator, if you could call it killing. It was what really made him most of his money, but it was illegal, so that information was not meant to be public.

"Cyberlife, the people who make the damn androids, who make sure every damn person is walking around with a robot bodyguard breathing down their necks, they want me to kill an android?" Hank questioned, not bothering to hide his bitter amusement at the irony.

"Not just one, Mr. Anderson, several." The android replied.

"Why?" Hank gritted out, getting into Connor's face yet again.

"I can't provide that information until you've agreed to the deal and signed a non-disclosure agreement." Connor said, his gaze never wavering from Hank's intense glare.

The former Lieutenant stepped away and ran a hand over his face.

"Must be a pretty big deal if there's NDAs involved." Hank said with a small smile and a shake of his head.

"It is, and rest assured you will be rewarded handsomely."

"How much?"

"As much as you want." Connor responded, and pulled up a virtual pad for Hank to sign in the palm of his hand.

"Ten mil?" Hank questioned jokingly, stepping forward.

"Twenty, if you want." Connor teased, offering Hank a pen, "In this case, there is no price Cyberlife will not pay."

Hank chewed his lip for a moment, it was a lot of money, a lot of money. Enough to make sure his glass would never be empty again. Probably. He'd taken high-profile jobs, knocked off the androids of diplomats and mob bosses, but even they barely scratched the surface of what he was currently being offered.

"Isn't there something for me to read?" Hank asked.

"I can pull up the document, if you really want to read it." Connor answered. Hank paused for a moment, then he felt a kick in the back of his mind.

Who cares? It said There's nothing in this life worth protecting from them anyway. It said.

Hank seized the pen and quickly scribbled his name against the synthetic palm of the android.

"So, what's the job?" He asked, slipping the pen into the breast pocket on the android's sleek black jacket.

"I think it's best if you and I go somewhere private to discuss, Mr. Anderson." Connor replied. Hank nodded and walked over to his car, the android in tow. He slipped into the driver's seat and motioned for Connor to join him.

The android sat stiffly in the passenger side.

"Private enough for you?" Hank asked, gesturing to the inside of his car. The android examined the dirty insides, the stained seats and the empty cans in the back. Its expression didn't change but Hank thought he could detect a hint of disgust, or maybe disdain.

Maybe it was just because the thing was so much cleaner and sharper than anything else in car, excluding Hank's many knives.

"I suppose this will do, my analysis has revealed no bugs." The android stated, then his eyes turned an unpleasant empty black and camera lenses revealed themselves. He began projecting information onto a holographic screen in front of Hank's radio.

Images were displayed of a dead human, and Hank felt his blood run a little cold at the sight. Even when he'd still been working for the Detroit Police Department, deaths were rare, and murders were practically nonexistent. The iron grip of android protection was intense, Hank had avoided it thus far, but he knew full well. Androids watching you shower to make sure you didn't slip and break your neck. Androids watching you eat so they could pat you on the back if you choked. Androids, watching, every damn second of every damn day. While you were sleeping, working…fucking. Just waiting a few feet away for the worst to happen, ready to save that oh so precious human life. Gotta get those population numbers back up in the high hundred millions.

Most cases involving deaths were people who qualified for no-protection status, like Hank, ugly accidents that no android could prevent, or they were paired with the destruction of the guarding android.

But looking at the bloated body of one Carlos Ortiz, Hank recognized a murder when he saw one. The 28 stab wounds were a dead giveaway.

"Cyberlife has recently discovered an anomaly in a handful of androids, causing them to deviate from their intended purposes."

"You mean purpose." Hank interrupted. "Protect humanity at any cost." He said in a mocking tone.

"That would be the case, but more than just guard androids have been deviating, there are instances of models in the work force doing so as well." Connor elaborated.

Hank nodded along and chewed his lip, he was too sober for this.

"These 'deviant' androids, as they've been termed, are capable of ceasing their primary functions, disobeying direct commands, and even doing harm to humans." Connor said and Hank's eyes widened.

"An android did this?" He asked, incredulously gesturing to the image of the brutally murdered Carlos Ortiz.

"Not just any android, the man's own guard android." Connor stated solemnly.

"Jesus." Hank muttered.

Connor began moving through more images and files on the case, the light filling the vehicle with a cold white glow and few splashes of grisly color.

"This isn't the first case of an android committing violence against the human it was meant to protect." A picture of a deactivated android kneeling beside a little girl, alongside an image of her murdered father. "More and more of these deviants are appearing, and it's becoming a major threat to human security." A picture of a ransacked home and its bruised owner.

"And Cyberlife's stocks, I imagine." Hank sneered. Connor paused at that, but only for a moment before continuing.

"These androids have gone against everything they were designed for, and Cyberlife wants you to destroy them before the threat of deviancy can spread any further." Connor concluded, a final image of a dead famous painter and his equally dead guard android disappearing from the air, flooding the car with darkness.

"Do we have any idea why they're doing this stuff?" Hank asked, choosing to leave the car dark for a moment, the only light coming from Connor's LED. The blue circle reflected in the window cast a dim light over the android's face, his dark brown eyes sparkling coldly, back to normal.

"They are capable of simulating emotion, causing them to fear death and desire things beyond their programming. This interferes with their duty to protect humans and perform other tasks, they—"

"So what you're saying is, they got a little too advanced, starting feeling shit, and emotions screwed everything up." Hank cut in.

"…I suppose, yes." Connor responded.

"Yeah, can't exactly be the perfect protecting machine if they care about their own lives now can they?" Hank mused darkly.

"…that does seem to be the case." Connor stated.

There was a heavy pause, then Hank sighed and started the car.

"Alright, I'll take the job. Send me the details, I start tomorrow." He said. Connor nodded in understanding.

Another heavy pause.

"You gonna get out?" Hank asked pointedly.

"I have been instructed to accompany you and assist in the investigation." Connor said.

"Oh no, no no, I've made it this far avoiding the 1:1 policy, I'm not about to get chained with a damn guard bot now." Hank growled, squeezing the wheel.

"You're success in this case is essential, I am here to ensure it." Connor stated, though technically incapable of being stubborn, he sure as hell felt belligerent to Hank.

"I'm not some zoo animal that needs a handler, no way in hell am I letting you treat me like one." He snapped at the android.

"Your safety is only one of my concerns during the course of this mission, think of me less as a guard and more of a partner." Connor reasoned. Hank scoffed. "Mr. Anderson, I understand your reluctance to my assistance, but assure you, that's all it is, assistance. I exert no control over you, and as soon as the mission is concluded, I will leave and you'll never see me again."

Hank considered this for a moment. It hadn't been easy, escaping the burden of having a guard android of his own, and he wasn't eager to have one haunting his every waking hour now. He looked over at Connor, all coifed hair, smooth skin, and sharp, dark suit. He looked like everything Hank despised, but if it was only assistance he was offering, Hank could use him to get to that twenty million all the faster and be done with it.

"Alright, but I'm not happy about it." Hank spat. Connor turned his gaze to the windshield as Hank put the car into gear and began driving. "Might as well get started now, where's our first target." Hank asked, trying not to think too hard about his use of the word 'our'.

"The residence of Carlos Ortiz. His murder is the most recent, so the location and destruction of his android takes precedence. Cyberlife has sealed the area for ease of your examination. Are you prepared?" Connor asked.

Hank gave a single nod, thinking of his two rifles in the underbelly of his trunk and the guns and knives on his immediate person. Connor nodded once as well, and pulled up directions to the house.

Hank gripped the wheel tighter, hoping to ignore the android beside him.