Rise of the Deviants

2038

The year is 2038, androids have pretty much taken over the work force, and oddly enough, it's kinda nice. Thankfully I'm still able to do my nursing job to help my grandfather, Carl, who was a famous artist in Detroit. His android, Markus, does the heavy lifting and errands around the house. He's also very sweet, for an android, he has a good personality. I should probably introduce myself: my name is Lila, I am twenty-three years old and I work as a nurse at St. Vincent's Hospital. Growing up, I never imagined a world where androids would be such a big part of daily life, but now I can't imagine things without them. Markus has been with my grandfather for years, and it's amazing how much he cares for him—even if he's just programmed that way. But sometimes, I can't help but wonder if there's more to Markus, something... beyond his programming.
I also found myself thinking how handsome Markus was, his hazel eyes were so dreamy. It felt silly, maybe even a little wrong, to think of an android that way. After all, Markus was just a machine, wasn't he? But those hazel eyes, warm and almost... human, held a spark I couldn't quite explain. When he looked at me, it was like he truly saw me, and not just as another task in his routine. Sometimes, I'd catch myself lingering a little too long when he smiled, wondering if he felt anything close to what I did.
I was one of the lucky few who still had a job, and I cherished it. Having a routine kept me going, especially with the anti-android movements that have been spreading throughout Detroit.
Every day, I saw more of those flyers and protest signs appearing around the city, each one more aggressive than the last. People were angry, fearful of being replaced or forgotten. Some even blamed androids for the lack of work and the city's struggles, but I didn't see it that way. For me, my job and my routine were grounding. And then there was Markus—a reminder that not everything about androids was cold or soulless. In the chaos of a divided Detroit, he was a quiet comfort, even if I couldn't quite put those feelings into words.