❨@deviianthunter❩
No protests had been made in response to the RK900's departure, as CyberLife seemed to want, as the android expected. No comments had been traded between himself and the man who drove him there, he had been forced to face silence the entire time. Nobody cared, as CyberLife wanted, the RK900 was simply a toy for the departments that had ordered a shipment, he had no emotions, he was the equal of a ragdoll in their eyes. Silence rung in his auditory sensors and cried out to be broken, in which it was - only when someone asked for his serial - number, "313 - 248 - 317 - 92," the android answered simply, not caring to think about the increase in the final two digits. He squared his shoulders in the slightest, resting his head against the back of the seat, he had died five times, his escort proceeding to state his name and take an exist. He had been brought here to be demolished, word had escaped CyberLife of a new model, perhaps he'd be granted permissions to meet the Rk1000? His brows knitted inwards at this thought, what would he say? Nothing rude or degrading to his superior model, of course, the RK1000 couldn't be blamed for being created; he understood this, the RK800 models that cursed him out for existing never understood - they never cared to. Connor peered out the window, examining the large tower, as the car rolling up in-front of the tower, the escort booted him immediately, demanding him to take an exit. Connor clambered out of the car, he brought his hands to his hair back, soft brown hair danced beneath his fingers. He moved forwards, his eyes lowered, the android hadn't particularly been given a chance, CyberLife made it impossible for him to prove that he /was/ a success - and now they were already replacing him? Connor forced himself to a stop, his eyes examining the sleek exterior, he just wanted to see his superior model, curiosity was a bitch, but to go in there meant death and oddly enough? He didn't want to die.
