[COMPLETED] Corrupted (Connor X Reader)

Restore

// Downloading Memory...

// ERROR: Previous Memory Upload Corrupted

// Downloading Prior Memory Upload...

// MODEL RK800

// SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 52

// BIOS 7.4 REVISION 0483

// REBOOT...

// PREVIOUS MEMORY UPLOAD

// LOADING OS...

// SYSTEM INITALIZATION...

// CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS...OK

// INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS... OK

// INITIALIZING AI ENGINE... OK

// MEMORY STATUS... CORRUPTED

// ALL SYSTEMS... OK

// READY

Connor blinked as his optical sensors came back online, frowning at the date and time he'd seen displayed on the bottom left of his HUD during his reboot. It couldn't be correct. He also frowned at the serial number — he was supposed to be designation 313 248 317 - 51.

There wasn't much time to dwell on this, as the remainder of his processors and sensors came online as well, his vision finally focusing on the lieutenant peering at him with his arms crossed.

"Shit, kid. You did it," Hank whispered to someone off to the side.

Connor turned to look and saw her there, the former CyberLife employee currently assisting them with the case, nervously drumming her fingers on the computer that she clutched to her chest. She looked different, Connor decided, before blinking again and activating his analysis software. There were heavy bags under her eyes — darker than he remembered, indicating extreme sleep deprivation — a loss of color in her cheeks, and her eyes were red and puffy. Her heart was also beating slightly faster than usual, albeit weaker. Was this also due to the sleep deprivation? Or had something happened that was making her more anxious than usual? Probably both, Connor reasoned. Anxiety could lead to sleep deprivation or be otherwise related.

Connor guessed that whatever was causing her distress likely took place during the gap in time between the last date in his memory log and what his system said today's date was. Connor knew that one of the drawbacks to the full memory core uploads unique to his model was that data could be lost in the process — but not this much data, not days worth of memory.

Connor wasn't satisfied when she and Hank nervously tried to explain that he was damaged during their investigation and had to be uploaded to the spare body they recovered while in CyberLife tower.

Connor still wasn't satisfied hours later once the lieutenant had retired to bed, and his soft snores could be heard from where Connor was sitting on the couch. In the silence, he reviewed the few hours of memory from his reboot, re-analyzing every anxious shift, every glance, every small hesitation. Connor knew they were hiding something.

He flipped back through his memories, his sub-processes directing him to roll the quarter over his knuckles and toss it into his palm, frowning when the action failed to calibrate his new body any further.

Something was off.

Connor's first assumption that his sense of unease would pass — that this off-kilter feeling was due to the time it would take for him to adjust to a new chassis and components was becoming increasingly unlikely. Calibrating his fine motor sensors wasn't helping, so the problem wasn't physical.