The sudden blue light surprises Connor as much as anybody else in the room, he has no time to stay there surprised, and he assesses the situation immediately, after scanning the blue plasmic like floating entity, which was radiating a cold blinding light. He detects the temperature to decrease from a healthy 25 degrees Celsius down to a freezing negative 5 degrees.

Although he can work under these conditions, it is not optimal. The stillness of the alien light only lasts another second, when the stability rates of the light go haywire.

PROBABILITY OF SURVIVAL: ?
OPTIMAL PRIORITY: PREVENT_HUMAN_CASUALTIES

Connor shoves the two other people in the room out the door, before attempting to follow himself. Despite his efforts, both he and the Lieutenant are caught in the blinding light when it blows, in a plasmic blast pattern.

DETECTED: POWER_RECEPTORS_OVERLOADED_REDIRECTING_PRIORITY_POWER_USAGE_TOWARDS_PRIMARY_POWER_STORAGE_UNIT

His power unit already had enough to keep Connor online and working for another 180 years, at the minimum, and that was if he was functioning at full capacity for the entire time, the more added energy would just add years to that number alone.

INITIATE: SHUTDOWN_RECOMMENDED

His systems went offline.

—

When his primary power modules and systems came back online, Connor detected an unsavoury smell to the average human, and his nerve functions noticed a warmth radiating near him, to the left.

Connors vision came back online and saw that it was just Hank, and him, alone. Nothing was familiar and his GPS couldn't recognise a signal that was usually used by Cyberlife for the most efficient compatibility, and instead runs into a bunch of servers that are slow, and not optimal. They could work, for now, so he connects himself.

He hears a soft wheeze, and Connor realises Hank's gaining consciousness, and probably beginning to wonder about the situation, and for one of the first times ever, Connor doesn't know what's happening. Around them is an old warehouse, and the stench of sea salt plagues them.

"I can recognise the brand of shipping containers stored in this warehouse as a New York orientated shipping company, but this particular company had stopped production in 2022," Connor says, in his usual non-threatening voice.

Hank nods at him and squints.
"Can you get anything from local servers?" Hank asks him, not sparing Connor a glance. Connor blinks a few times before getting to the task right away, almost wondering why that hadn't been the first thing he'd done.

"Local services and online search engines say that it is currently in the middle of the year the year 2015. Our best plan is to imitate as normal civilians and earn wages. With that, we can purchase the equipment needed so that I can produce the technology needed to return us." Connor dutifully reports back to Hank, and he groans in frustration.

"2015? What the fuck?!" He says something under his breath, which Connor wisely ignores. "Can't you just hack and get us some property, and wire digital money or something?" Hank requests. He's not in the mood for this right now.

Connor opens his mouth to explain how it's not how it's done, but there is a possible way of fraud with only a 17% chance of detection. Connor decides not to ask for Hank's opinion and wires them a house nearby.

It's in downtown New York, and he's had the Landlord believe they've paid for rent for the next six months, by wiring money from a taxation office, making somebody believe that there has just been an error in calculations, and they had actually collected less than they believed.

The landlord turned out to be a landlady, as she meets them at the front of the townhouse apartment. It looks old, and by the way that Hank's nose crinkles it doesn't smell that great either. It looked like it hadn't been occupied in a few years, probably due to the fact it's on the bad side of town.

If she noticed the LED on Connor's temple, she didn't comment. She hands Hank the key and asks for their names.

"You'll have to sign here, and here," she points to the bottom. "And confirm your details here," she gestures to the top section of the paper. "I'll come by tomorrow, if that's okay, sometime around three, to see your passports and identification."

Connor nods, with a calm face on, not showing any panic or discomfort at all. He signs the papers as Connor… Anderson. He smiles and thanks her, before closing the door.

He finally gets a look around, whoever had lived here last was probably like eighty years old, shown by the furniture which was intricately hand carved out of a dark oak. There was a crucifix hanging above the inside of the front door, showing a catholic nature to the home. The walls were lined with empty photo-frames and a off-white paint.

Upstairs, the larger bedroom had been claimed by Hank, so that left Connor in the other bedroom, which had been stylised into an office space, but had a couch pushed against one wall.

Connor pulls out a computer he had bought along the way, quickly finding the deep web to purchase customised United States fake ID's, with his hacking skills he may be able to plant enough evidence that to anybody who checked, no matter how thoroughly, that they seemed like they had lived here all their life.

For education, he picked schools with a high student-teacher ratio, so the teacher wouldn't be a reliable source to ask if they recognised a person, and picked past jobs with high employment, as it wouldn't be suspicious.

Hank's new birthdate was now in the late 70's, and Connor had even gone as far as giving Hank a family history dating back to the 1800's. Connor was now his son, that he had when he married a woman, who Connor had also fabricated. Her name would be Kate.

Connor's birthday was now in the year 1998 even though he had only been developed and implemented into production less than a year ago.

A coverup to why nobody knew them was that Connor and Hank used to live in Detroit, before moving to New York a few days ago. Due to Connor's advanced skills compared to any human these days, he was able to implement their new ID's into the USA's government database as if they had always been citizens, after all, they already had three hundred million other citizens, so it was extremely easy to plant themselves into the system.

They would collect their passports tomorrow from their source, and Hanks new driver license tomorrow.

—

Hank had no problem adapting to the past, as it was in a time he had once lived through, but Connor, on the other hand, had never experienced the past but had downloaded a few files on local life.

He had enrolled himself in a school nearby, as it was said on his new identity that he was sixteen years old. The school was a government-run school that specialised in Science and Technology. Midtown School of Science and Technology.

The school had metal detectors you had to walk through before you walked in, so Connor remotely hacked them whenever it was his turn to go through, so his inner components wouldn't set off the detector.

After the collection of their passports, which were still manufactured out of paper and everything that Connor would have considered primitive, Hank applied for a job at the NYPD, claiming that he had experience as a Lieutenant in the Detroit Police Department, and they made him sit a paper test which he passed.

Hank was now a Lieutenant under Captain Stacey, through an interstate police transition. Connor had carefully deactivated and peeled off his LED, feeling uncomfortable with the fact, and decided he would get a beanie later and put the LED back on. He removed the obnoxious blazer he wore, that declared 'ANDROID'. The credit cards he had applied for had been verified and he had placed a few thousand in the bank account for Hank.

Hopefully, he wouldn't waste it on liquor and unnecessary purchases.

Connor bought appropriate school clothes for himself, or at least that they had abided by the dress code. He had bought a variety of button up dress shirts, dark blazers, blue jeans and dark dress looking shoes. The book-bag he purchased was a dark faux leather messenger bag, and the books he bought were also leather-bound.

He bought three blue pens and one red pen. He didn't need a ruler as he could already draw perfectly straight lines, and could determine the length of something just by looking at it. A protractor was unnecessary as he could determine the angle of something by analysing it.

He didn't need a calculator as he had one inside him, literally.

—

On the first day of school, Connor walked through to the office with a dark navy beanie over his head, enough that it covered his LED that he had placed back onto the side of his temple, but the beanie was far back enough that it showed some of his hair peeking through, giving him a cute hipster vibe.

The secretary of the office was an old woman with a floral pattern on her clothing. She looked up at Connor's youthful face, surprised to find one free of any acne and blemishes. Connor had a kind smile and gently told her that he was a new student, that had applied a few days ago. She fumbled around in a drawer and threw him a key, which Connor caught without flinching.

She handed him a timetable, which he scanned.

LANGUAGE: AMERICAN_ENGLISH_DETECTED

Connor scanned the map of the school and saved it to his database, before throwing it away. Since he had arrived at the school early, he had some time to set up his locker and make a few acquaintances too fit in properly. His locker wasn't difficult to find, and it wasn't too small.

Placing in his few textbooks, he put two notebooks in his book-bag, his science textbook and his pens. Thankfully it was the beginning of the school year for everybody else as well. Failing to find anybody he went to Homeroom, which was filled with children from various different years, and the teacher had asked him to sit at the back, as Connor was six foot tall.

Homeroom was extended as today was the first day of school, and 'Ice-breaker' introductions had to be made from all the new students. A boy, who looked around fourteen, stood up.

"Hello, I'm Peter Parker and I've lived in New York my whole life. I'm half Italian. I want to be a scientist when I grow up." Peter said, nervously. He looked excited and terrified at the same time. Connor did a quick analysis and stored away from the information in his data files.

He stood up next.

"My name is Connor Anderson. I was born and raised in Detroit and moved here a week ago. I would find it regrettable to not become a police negotiator when I leave school." Some of the girls in the classroom awed and got blushes. Connor didn't quite understand the human emotion. Maybe they were tired?

Once homeroom was over and a few more people had been introduced, Connor went to his first class, mathematics. The teacher had explained on the first day, there was a placement test so she knew each person's strengths and weaknesses.

Connor looked at the simple mathematics, and handed it in a minute later, finished. The teacher looked at him confused, silently asking Connor if he found anything too hard, but discovered that Connor had actually answered everything correctly. His handwriting was perfectly legible, and no mistakes were made anywhere in the paper.

Connor tilted his head as if he were a sad little puppy when she hadn't said anything for a prolonged time.

"Is there an error? I am sure that the answers are sufficient." Connor enquired. It would be alarming if there was an error, as his software was the latest of his time, he himself cost a small fortune to produce and manufacture. The teacher quickly shakes her head and then amends.

"No… that isn't the problem. The problem is that it's all correct! Some of these questions should've taken at least ten minutes! That's it, I'm electing you to represent this class in the science fair. It doesn't even matter that this is just mathematics, you must be a genius!"

Connor didn't smile but his face did seem to portray some kind of confusion.
"Thank you?" he offered. Back in 2036, no android was ever thanked for being able to do what they were designed to do. It was expected. Connor figured that school would be a great way of making sure all his systems were up to check, and if they weren't then he would remedy the situation immediately.

She directed Connor to the library, saying that there would be no point in him staying in this class, as she was going to teach them what the majority found difficult, and that studying would do him good for furthering his knowledge.

Connor was about to automatically reply.

AUTOMATED: Reply_rebuttal_cancelled

But he decided that if he told her that he already knew everything there were to know, then he'd be questioned, or considered as rude or arrogant. He didn't want to already cripple his reputation. People were giving him strange stares as he walked down the hallway to the library.

The library was as empty as he suspected, as it was during class time. He decided to log in to one of the school computers and study up on the current world around him and the current trends.

Then he looked for internships, as a way to gain experience before graduation where he would get a job, with the experience under his belt to boost his chances in getting the job he applied for.

The nearest and most convenient one was a Stark internship, directly under Mr Stark. There were two openings to the spot. Connor was almost certain that the esteemed Anthony Stark was only releasing internship positions for publicity reasons.

Connor quickly applied.

His interview would be at eight PM tonight, which he added to his current schedule.

—

At lunch that day was when the trouble came, somebody in his period one math class wasn't very happy with him outdoing the rest of the class and getting a free hallway pass to the library.

"I was hoping to get to represent Mrs Sicily's class in the Science fare! You and I are gonna have a go after school. Whole grade watching." The bigger boy, who Connor had scanned and recognised as James Thompson, living with a single parent, and has one younger brother 'Flash' Thompson.

Connor blinks once when the older boy shoved him into a locker, laughing when Connor decides not to retaliate. He'd rather not fight during school hours, as it was against the rules. Once the boy left, a few girls had fawned over him.

"Ignore him!" One of them said. "It's alright to be smart!" Another one tries to console. He smiles briskly and dismisses them, after hearing a few dreamy sighs.

"Isn't he just a dream?" A girl sighs to another one, who nods in agreement, blushes dusting their faces.

He sits down at a relatively empty table in the cafeteria, not collecting anything to eat, and instead of drinking out of his steel water bottle that he had brought from home. The bottle contained a thirium replenishing substance, that would be either ingested through the mouth component or injected into the thirium pump regulator.

The three people already sitting at the table introduce themselves, two of which Connor recognises from homeroom when he saved their details into his database.

"I'm Peter Parker. That's Ned Leeds and the other girl is Gwen Stacey." The other two people nod to acknowledge him, but Gwen questions his lunch.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" She says, worried and prepared to lend him money if he hadn't had any money for the cafeteria. Connor immediately put on a coverup, without hesitation.

"I'm on a diet." The girl nods before holding out her hand. Connor doesn't know what she wants. She rolls her eyes before asking.

"Can I see?" She asks Connor, and he almost reluctantly passes the metal bottle over to her. She looks inside and sees a blue liquid substance that she doesn't recognise. It smells coppery, almost like a mixture of blood and gasoline. She recoils at the smell.

"What is that stuff?" She exclaims, surprised. Connor looks at her before replying properly.

"A homemade meal replacement. It helps me function properly without the need of repair." It was mostly true, well the part that it helps him function for a prolonged amount of time before needing to be sent to cyberlife for repairs, and it was made by some things Connor had bought from the chemists' store, and the local automobile shop.

It would kill a human to try it.

—

After school, Connor used his cheapish touchscreen Stark Phone to send a message to Hank, about the internship he applied for. Hank said it was probably a good call, and went back to work.

James Thompson was waiting in the school roof courtyard for him, in a sort of fighting stance. Connor pursed his lips but didn't say anything, watching as James got more and more frustrated when he couldn't get a hit on Connor.

Connor retaliated by, to the surprise of everybody else, managing to get James down on his knees. He quickly calculates that it is enough to scare the boy off, and death or maiming would be unnecessary.

The boy looks just as surprised as anybody else, and doesn't bother getting up when Connor starts walking away, with an air of professionalism when he adjusts his tie and pulls down his beanie that had been slightly pulled back while he was fighting.

Nobody dares to comment except for a few girls that start giggling to each other. Connor would never the adolescent girls of this generation - Generation Z. Generation Z was much more advanced in the future, with many of them having high intellect required jobs in Cyberlife.

Time passes and Connor picks up more objects from the hardware store so he can make another bottle of Thirium regulator, which he wouldn't need to consume for another week, and nano-bots would be preferable. He walks past Mr Starks building on his way home and sees many nerdy looking teens in a long line. Since he had applied earlier today, he had gotten one of the last sessions so he wouldn't need to wait in a line.

All Connor had to do was show up at the allocated time that had been given to him, and ace the interview.

When it came around to eight PM, Connor showed up at the quiet building, well it was as quiet as it could be for a building in the middle of New York at eight PM, so his auditory components detected many other sounds that were filed away for short-term memory.

Short-term memory is where the undecidedly 'unimportant' details go, where he sorts through them while he goes into an idle 'sleep' mode. Back in Detroit, in his timeline, he would upload all the memory to 'the cloud' so nothing would be forgotten, but now he didn't have access to a Cyberlife cloud that was free for him to access and could handle all the storage he uploaded every second.

So he had to do things the old fashion way. Even though it was slow, it was still faster than anything a human could do manually, sorting through thousands of files per nano-second. It only took him an hour a week to sort through.

The interview was with a strawberry blonde woman, who looked like she was way too tired for this. She tried answering a few random science questions that Mr Stark had issued for her to ask the people applying, which to her surprise, he got all of them correct.

She picked up a desk phone and pressed "#574" and somebody on the other end picked up, to which Connor recognised as Mr Stark.

—

When the boy that Pepper said was genius walked in, Tony didn't expect to see a fresh-faced boy, who he couldn't distinguish from young adult or teen to walk in. He wore a beanie which Tony thought had to go. He looked like he could take you down, and looked curious with a calculating look on his face.

He blinked which made him ten times less threatening, even though he was never threatening to Tony in the first place.

"Connor Anderson… born and raised in Detroit. Your old man is a Police Lieutenant under Captain Stacy and you have never failed an examination in your life. Tell me, what do you like? What are your… quirks?" Tony asks the boy, Connor.

He nervously blinks, looking almost surprised that Tony would care about what Connor liked, or rather didn't like.

"I… I like to play with this coin a lot." Connor pulls out a silver coin from his pocket and starts performing mesmerising tricks that Tony could only dream of doing.

"It helps me… concentrate before a session of hard and long work." That surprises Tony as he expects something else, such as video games or comics. Or anything normal for a boy his age.

The ping that the coin makes when it's being fluidly flung from hand to hand and when it intertwines between Connor's fingers on one hand.

Tony knows as much as he needs, he wants this kid, he doesn't even consider any other possible candidates after looking at Connor. Connor is the one that he wants.

Tony gets up and walks towards the door, beckoning Connor to follow, which he does.

"So how much can you lift?" Tony asks, as a side note. Working around in his lab might need an extra pair of hands to help move heavy things such as circuit boards or parts of other projects.

"I have a maximum carrying capacity of 80 kilograms." Whatever the answer was, Tony didn't expect it to be in kilograms, didn't only Canadians use kilograms? A quick search on his phone made him realise that only America used pounds… literally, everybody else used kilograms as a unit of measure.

"So you use kilograms? Odd for somebody that lives in America." Tony commented.

"Where I lived was extremely close to the Canadian/American border. It wasn't uncommon for the metric system to be used throughout that area." Oh right, the kid used to live around Detroit.

"You say you aspire to be a police negotiator, although all your test and exam results say you have the potential to be anything you wanted to be." Tony raised an eyebrow, police negotiators didn't even get paid that well, unless they were super great at their job then they didn't really have much luck in securing a great job.