SEQUENTIAL ━ Connor // RK800 ✔️

ten ━ the mission

• • •

Connor flicked the coin into the air and caught it atop his knuckles, easing it to the side into a barrel roll, before nudging it back up and bringing it on top of his index finger, where it spun in perfect balance. These coin tricks, permanently on loop, were keeping a constant movement in the corner of his eyes while he walked through the large chicken's coop for the tenth time. His other hand, hidden in the pocket of his pants, clenched into a fist when he decided to scan everything once again, expecting of himself to piece together something, anything new.

But everything before his eyes remained the same — the disturbance in the hay on the ground signalling the spot where someone had sat and the scratches on the floor of the same symbol, 'rA9'. Nothing changed just to appease the conviction with which he looked at these clues repeatedly.

Waiting outside the den now since the smell of chicken droppings started making him sick, Officer Brady audibly sighed, "We are wasting time being back here, pal. We should try to find new android reports, or at least ask DPD for help now that our first lead has gone cold."

"The android was here," Connor restated.

"Yes, we've established that through your magic analysis about an hour ago. But we don't know where it went and that's what actually matters." After a short sigh, Brady looked inside the den, "Admit it, we've got no lead. We're stuck."

Connor's head dropped. This was his mission, his designation, his purpose. He couldn't just give up, leave the case unsolved, pass it on to someone else when he was supposed to be better, when Mia had so much faith in what he was designed to do and be. Though deep down he knew Officer Brady was correct, Connor knelt down in the hay and, after pocketing his coin, he ran his fingertips across the engraved letters — rA9. There was no mention of it anywhere on the internet, no significance associated with it within any databases he could gain access to.

His hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles dragged across the floor. The best he could do in such a moment was to start overanalysing, to look at the minute details the hard way.

This deviant did not leave a mess behind, he stated the fact inside his mind. Not like the one which killed Joel. That one was showing signs of fear. It was erratic. This one is calculated. It might have had the time to grow used to deviancy. A deviant no longer afraid. It's been a deviant for a while.

Connor looked up, blinking. His LED turned yellow while he accessed all the news outlets available online with the keywords 'missing android'. There were over two thousand articles spanning back five years and with each rapid blink, he got through another dozen of them, cross-checking the status of the investigation associated with each report, as well as the veracity of it, as many were just inconsequential. His LED started flickering from the exertion of running parallel search commands. Slowly, even a frown started forming on his expression.

"Connor!"

Officer Brady's hand clasping his right shoulder and shaking him rigidly snapped Connor out of his running program and returned his LED, after a long pulse, to blue. "You okay, pal?" The man inquired. "I've been calling your name a bunch. What the hell were you doing?" He looked down at that disturbing inscription whose meaning eluded him entirely still, but since it also elicited in him a dreadful feeling without explanation, he had to avert his gaze sooner rather than later.

With a sigh, Connor got up, "I was checking all the news articles of androids reported missing."

"Oh," Brady's expression was fighting a frown, seeing as he had mentioned they should go back to the station to do just that a while ago. "Found anything?"