❝Who even needs to rule the world when you can just learn to deceive it?❞
[Cyberpunk AU]
In which Connor kills himself to prevent Amanda from stopping the Android revolution and wakes up in a whole new world 30 years later.
Warning! Contains foul la...
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All systems operational Jan. 22nd, 2064 Time: 8:34 PM No signal, additional data unavailable
Connor blinked, adjusting to the white light that shone into his eyes.
Everything about him was sore, slow, and unresponsive, as if his whole being was plagued by something similar to rust, making every movement heavy and difficult.
The air was thick, stagnant — just like his surroundings. Dark grey concrete walls, with a rather impressive amount of computers and other machinery sprinkled around the room.
"Aah, shit." A deep, gruff voice mumbled, followed by languid steps.
Connor was laying on an operating table of some sorts, a lamp hanging above him.
Connor heard something shuffle, the sound of a limp body being dragged. That was exactly the case: right beside him, on another table, laid a girl, with messy (h/c) hair with neon blue tips, stripped down to a dark olive tank top and black, baggy pants.
Something was...attached to the back of her nape, digging in deep into the skin, hooked around flesh, her blood staining the table. A young man approached her passed out form, lifting it up, and propping her against him. He removed the object on her nape, discarding of it on the table carelessly, then began running his hands over her body.
Upon closer inspection, the Android realized that the 'young man' had similar components to himself, and that only the girl showed traces of a biological heartbeat and steady breathing.
He heard the rustling of thin plastic foil, realizing that the other Android had stopped groping the woman, and was instead focusing on a small bag he had pulled out of her pocket.
The body of the girl was quickly discarded, left to collapse onto the floor, the bag being the machine's focus. A smile settled on its lips as it opened the small bag's zip and dipped its finger into the fine, purple powder inside, then licked it off.
A certain numbness and pain settled in Connor's abdomen, as if he had watched something disturbing. All his senses were tingling with danger— something was wrong. And he just knew he had to step in.
He scanned his surroundings further, then began preconstructing his plan. A weapon, most certainly a gun, though a model he couldn't exactly recognize, was set on a tray of various instruments, right beside the table he was on. That could make for a good start.
He saw his own, schematically drawn silhouette stumble to his feet, take the gun from the table, and aim it at the other android.
『▹COMPUTE 』
He rose to his feet, ripping out the object stuck inside the nape of his neck, a painful, hot electric current coursing through him as he did. Involuntarily, the deviant let out a wince.
That was more than enough to gain the other Android's attention.
"Oh shit. Oh shit, it's fucking alive!" He exclaimed, dropping the bag he had been holding. His eyes darted to the gun, at the same time as Connor's, before their gazes connected again.
The RK800 model had one thing in mind, yet his body was disobeying. He was slow, painfully so, however had the advantage of being in closer proximity to the weapon. He stumbled towards the tray of utensils, accidentally knocking it over as he picked up the gun.
The stranger had come dangerously close, a rough 50 centimeters away. Connor was quick enough to aim the gun at the other Android's head.
"Back off!" He barked, and was pleased to find out that his voice hadn't been altered.
"Alright, fuck, don't shoot!" The stranger took a reluctant step backwards, raising his hands. His eyes were blown wide in fear, staring directly at Connor.
"Where are we?" The RK800 asked firmly, still aiming the weapon at the man. He deactivated the safety lock upon realizing that the stranger refused to cooperate, which was enough to convince the other man.
"Detroit, Michigan." He answered shakily. "We're...underground."
That somewhat soothed Connor. He was still in a familiar place. Below it, technically, but still. As soon as he would manage to get out of...whatever bunker he was in at the moment, he'd just have to find Hank, and everything would return back to normal.
Unless...well, unless his inner clock was right. He really hoped it wasn't.
"What year is it?" He continued his interrogation.
"2064."
The feeling that settled in his stomach was cold and heavy, strikingly similar to one of detective Reed's punches. Shock?
He had to take a deep breath to calm himself before looking back at the stranger, who was slowly dropping his arms.
"Hey, hands where I can see them!"
"Same goes for you." A female voice firmly demanded from behind his back, and before he could react, something cold, metallic was pressed to his back, right between his shoulder blades.
Only a millisecond later, a heavy, burning electric current flooded his entire body, strong in his knees, elbows and wrists, causing him to wince in pain and drop the gun. All his synthetic muscles tensed, rock hard and unmovable.
The woman from behind him was quick enough to take the weapon before he or the other Android could react.
"(Y/n), thank god. I thought this thing was gonna fucking kill m-"
"Shut up, Zlatko. I know you took my portion of Axyfomodium." She gestured to the small bag with purple contents that he had dropped seconds ago. "Give it back."
Connor moved one arm to prop himself up against the floor and get up, however was surprised to find out that another, burning electric current coursed through his spine as soon as he did. What was going on with him?!
"No, that's my payment!" The other Android retorted, squeezing his fist around said object.
"Did I stutter, Zlatko?" She hissed, then wanted to remove the safety switch, only to realize someone already had. Connor had. Her eyes went wide, immediately focusing on the chocolate-eyed Android. "Who deactivated the switch?"
"I...did." Connor forced out, even his jaw refusing to move. Whatever the electric pain in his body was, it refused to let him make even the smallest movement.
