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Life Starts Now

Chapter 11: time waits for no android

Notes:

THIS FIC ISNT DEAD!!!

no but for real, i really do feel bad! I've had this chapter like 95% done and just sitting on my laptop for a few months now. i've finally gathered the will to just polish the damn thing and post it before i procrastinate any longer aaa (i have more to say but its probably best to leave that at the bottom where its not so in your face and taking precious time away from reading the actual fic lol)

anyways! since it's been a while, here's a bare bones refresher on where we are in the story so far:

nines and connor are living together in an abandoned apartment complex after connor booted nines up in said apartment, they go out on nines' first scavenging trip, both RKs have Feelings about the junkyard they visit, nines shoots and kills an android, connor gets mad, markus is informed about the shooting, markus believes that there's a pair of RK800s running around Detroit, markus makes contact with hank and asks about connor, after some backstory nines asks to go out by himself and look for place to get more parts, connor allows it, enter Reed, nines dislikes reed, markus informs the rest of the leadership about what he's found out so far, connor tries and fails to psyche himself up for surgery, the RK bros go on a field trip, connor takes and nap and has a nightmare, north makes a plan to confront one of the RKs, and then the RK bros spend a day at the library.

yeah i think that's all the main points. there's a few other things missing in there but as a quick refresher thats good enough imo

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

By this point, everyone’s heard of the Myrmidon model. A military android unit built specifically for infiltration and assassination, for the most dangerous missions that the U.S. marine forces ever undertake. Though we don’t have exact numbers, an estimated 50,000 units are in active use, protecting government interests with ruthless precision.

Since their quiet reveal to the public, though, many have called into question the dubious morality of using killing machines to fight our wars for us. Androids don’t have brain to make decisions. They just follow whatever commands get issued to them. No pesky human empathy to have to contend with.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s look at what we know of their specs first.

Each unit is outfitted with a metal chassis able to withstand all kinds of damage, everything up to armor piercing rounds. They’re built like a tank, the metal alloy (the make of which hasn’t been disclosed to the public) a stark black, upping their intimidation factor if you ever damage one enough to see underneath their skin. In fact, some of the newer models forgo the illusion of humanity entirely, opting instead to only cover portions of the face with skin and leaving the rest of the body bare. Their combat protocols are based on martial disciplines from all over the world, honed and perfected within CyberLife’s testing centers where we’ve been told that prototype Myrmidon models are pit against each other in both armed and unarmed combat, a fascinating example of survival of the fittest.

And that’s not even getting into the actual hardware, which is what we know the least about.

What we do know is that CyberLife decided that imitating true humans was a limitation they just couldn’t have for units meant to go to war. There are stories of the models being able to move beyond what’s possible for humans, able to run faster than the fastest sprinter and with the marksmanship capabilities only achievable by a supercomputer. The nitty gritty of their programming and internal makeup may always be a mystery, but we at least have the reports from those that went up against these killing machines and lived to tell the tale.

So we have unstoppable tanks with human faces completing missions left and right with extreme prejudice. Sounds crazy, right? Entire squadrons of android mercenaries following each command to the letter, killing until the mission is done and then returning to their docking station when its over. Or they get destroyed trying, at which point it’s just a push of a button to send a different android squad out on whatever suicide mission can take out a group of Myrmidons.

The problem is the removal of the human element. That’s always been the problem with CyberLife androids, really: pushing out humans and replacing them with soulless machines. But in the case of the military, its a bigger problem than a career soldier being out of a job. The kind of decisions made during times of war are tough ones. You have to weigh human lives and the missions being issued. You have to decide when to kill and when to take prisoners instead. You need to know who’s hostile and who’s just a civilian caught up in a shitty conflict. And androids aren’t capable of that.

Sure, they can run probabilities and face scans and whatever creepy Big Brother crap CyberLife is doing nowadays, but if they’re told by a commanding officer to blow a place to hell, they are going to blow that place to hell without hesitation. No moral conflict, no second guessing. And that’s the issue at hand. Not the loss of job opportunities, but the loss of moral oversight. Human empathy is what keeps casualties on both sides to a minimum. Moral standards keep careless orders from being carried out. Without that, the automation of war may result in more violent conflicts than even some of the bloodiest wars in human history.”

—“War in the Modern World.” Blogger, 30 Jan. 2038, blogname.blogspot.com/2038/01/war-in-the-modern-world.html



Connor fell into a snow drift and did not get back up.

The walk back thus far had been silent. Connor had run out of things to say, and Nines’ limited social module only offered topics like the weather or politics, both unsatisfactory choices for an android with a social module as advanced as Connor’s. Nines did not possess the ability to think of new ideas outside of those provided. That was deviant behavior. It was not yet deviant.

In other news, it was finally able to hypothesize about Connor’s strange actions immediately following when it was analyzing the erotic novel. Many humans thought it inappropriate to discuss sex and things pertaining to sex in normal conversation. Connor was likely emulating this behavior to teach the RK900 about how to conduct itself around humans. It was pleased that its predecessor took its social education so seriously.

It dedicated far too many resources to the futile task of ‘small talk’—perhaps trying to do something that that was completely useless and irrational could help it achieve deviancy—and noticed too late how Connor wavered and veered away from the sidewalk, eventually stumbling over his own legs and falling into the snow.

Several warnings and notifications blared on its HUD before it was able to turn the information into effective action. Approximately 0.28 seconds elapsed.

Everything stopped. Windows did not shake in the wind, the clouds did not drift from their fixed position in the sky. The world was frozen as Nines overclocked and focused on the RK800, to the exclusion of everything else.

The android nearly threw itself into the snow drift alongside its predecessor. What was wrong? “Connor.” It said.

The RK800 lay motionless and unresponsive.

It griped the other’s shoulder. “Connor.”

Nothing. Not a twitch. No simulated idle behaviors. No unconscious ones that deviants developed over time.

It hesitated for a beat. The LED. It needed to check the LED.

It did not know how to describe the… the feeling of seeing the deep red under the beanie. Of seeing any light at all. The edges of its vision were less frayed at the sight, the odd errors in its fine motor control systems became more controlled. Connor had not shut down, and other incomprehensible tasks that cluttered its HUD were swept away.

Shaking did nothing. They were exposed and vulnerable. There was no time.

The RK900 immediately picked up the android in a fireman’s carry and raced to their appropriated apartment, the only secure area that the newer android was familiar with. All sensors were active and the most relevant had their sensitivity raised so high that its HUD was full of exterior data: the call of a bird flying at 35mph 10 meters away (threat level minimal), the chill of the 23° F wind blowing at 9mph (threat level minimal), the breath of a fox approximately 16 meters away (threat level minor, remain vigilant, exercise caution). No hostiles detected so far.

It even risked lowering its scarf to improve airflow, its own temperature having risen just enough that it decided the measure was necessary to mitigate future temperature complications.

Between being quiet and being quick, the RK900 favored speed. It burst through the door to the lobby, barely slowing down as it raced to the stairwell. It took the stairs two at a time, registering the noise its steps made on the old wood, filtering it out as best it could to remain on high alert for threats. Wood creaked under the combined weight of two combat-oriented machines and the extra weight both carried on their bodies. It was careful to avoid particularly weak portions of the brittle wood.

At some point it rerouted its path and went up to the roof instead. The walls that formed the roof’s perimeter were a good enough cover, and the colder air outside was a necessity. The snow that clung to Connor’s clothes was already melting into water. A scan revealed his temperature to be 94° C. High, dangerously so, but not high enough that his system would’ve forced a shutdown. Not under normal circumstances.

There was something wrong.

After setting aside their backpacks, it laid Connor on the concrete and started to strip him of his clothing, military quick and efficient. This was one of the first actions it performed after being activated for the first time. It learned since then that Connor was not comfortable being completely nude, so it left his pants alone, rolling them up as far as they’d go instead, up to just above his knees. There were fewer biocomponents in the legs, and the thinner shape of the leg allowed for easier heat-transfer. Removing his pants was not a high priority.

Once Connor was properly disrobed, the RK900 sat back on its haunches and took a moment to observe his prone form.

There was no indication of anything wrong besides Connor’s softly pulsing LED, the red color neither bright nor dark. His chassis displayed no damage severe enough to interfere with the nano mesh of his skin. Like before, his body failed to cycle through a breathing animation. This was not enough information.

It could not run its own diagnosis on its predecessor. Connor’s system was violently hostile to any kind of foreign entity it detected, even compromised as it was. The RK900 was robust enough that any aftereffects it experienced after the last time it tried to force an interface were short-lived, but it was reluctant to attempt it again. It was… unpleasant.

As it was considering fetching LAPTOP-W8435413555XQM2 to serve as a buffer, Connor’s body jerked. Violently. And continued to jerk and thrash.

The RK900 placed a hand under his head immediately, protecting the RK800’s skull plating from the frozen concrete until the seizing (inappropriate, word meant for human seizures, disregard similarities) calmed into intermittent shivering, little more than inconsistent twitching of his extremities and full body shivers. Connor’s voice module stuttered and warbled some unpleasant combination of static and a low metallic screech, like the tearing of large sheets of steel heard through an old radio. His eyes were shut but the optical units roved in their sockets, not focusing on any one point behind their eyelids. His limbs twitched and trembled. His jaw worked and his breath came in short gasps, steam barely able to escape his system before he pulled air back in again, the breathing pattern too shallow for adequate cooling.

It could not run a diagnostic. The RK800’s system would purge it.

But Connor was suffering.

RK900 313-248-317

> [QUERY] Requesting access to RK800 System. Requesting permission to run Diagnostic Program on System.

It sent the message before it could question whether Connor had the presence of mind to reply. It could think of no other way. Without diagnosing the problem it could not develop a solution. Without some kind of permission or bypass, it couldn’t run its own diagnostic.

The mental gymnastics and loopholes required to brute force its way into his system would be extensive. The orders that were still in effect were broad and lacked specificity, “to encourage creative thinking and flexibility,” Connor had said. While true in some cases, it was a hindrance now that the words [DO NOT THREATEN RK800 SYSTEM INTEGRITY] blocked it from doing anything more than a normal interface, instead of the more hostile probe that would be required to breach the firewall the RK800 had in place

RK800 313-248-317

> denide ndei deniden dendied denied

Nines stiffened. Its eyes focused on the RK800, all optical data being carefully scanned.

That was a response. Not the one it needed, but more than it expected.

The RK900 leaned closer to the other android, searching for some form of awareness. But the body did nothing, even as Nines poked and prodded at the skin. Had it the ability, it would’ve attempted to cause some pain stimulus...

(Androids did not feel pain. Perhaps it was different for deviants, but there was no use in testing the hypothesis while Connor was not able to give his informed consent.)

The message it received from the RK800 was fragmented. Corrupted? There were spelling errors and redundancies, and the words didn’t carry the same weight as a formal denial. Its system didn’t move to accommodate new orders. Even as the RK900 understood the message intended, the message brought up the brief concern that Connor was not sound of mind.

RK900 313-248-317

> [QUERY] Requesting reason for denial.

> Your system is compromised. Errors unknown. A diagnostic is necessary for your immediate repair.

It waited, watching for any sign of purposeful movement. Anything beyond the twitching and shallow gasping.

It needed to do something.

RK900 313-248-317

> [QUERY] RK800, respond. Do you recognize This Unit?

Nines waited. Its directive pressed at it. It would soon need to take action, regardless of the RK800’s feelings on the matter. It could not leave him in this state.

He was shutting down. It knew this with hollow certainty. Though he was cooling down now that he was in this forced dormancy—not even a true stasis, a true stasis would’ve locked his limbs and regulated his breathing animation—the damage to his system was too much. With how tightly locked his system was, the RK900 would need to breach through the firewalls just to perform a visual inspection of the inside, nevermind running a proper diagnostic program. The stress from the process could have unknown effects on Connor, who seemed to have some form of consciousness inside the shell of his body.

There wasn’t enough information. Any action Nines took could have dire consequences. It was paralyzed by its inadequacy, waiting for its limbs to move of their own accord and choose a path, whether to forcibly tear into Connor’s body or force its way into his coding or–

RK800 313-248-317

> [QUERY] RK900?????

> unnnnnit rec recgonsinsed

> syysssssstem errrpr/. system error. self diagnostic program malfunctionfnfgng

> [QUERY] diagnostic?

> syssystem accessss grnted to: RK900 313-248-317

> cannnot see hear cant feel its dark its dqrk

It’s dark

Information irrelevant. Refocus.

Connor was aware. Access was granted. Its hand snapped out to grip Connor’s twitching palm, the area with the greatest number of receptors for a successful interface. The skin of its hand retracted and the skin of Connor’s hand responded in kind, its own hand a smooth unblemished white and Connor’s just a shade darker, grime clinging to the edges of every plate.

(A background process noted the structural differences in their hands as well. The RK900’s knuckles were black, reaching down to emulate the tendons in a human hand. Placed there as protection and as an augmentation, to deliver more damaging blows to registered hostiles. Likely aesthetic reasons as well. Normal androids did not have such deadly purposes.)

Once the connection was established, the RK900 had to push down the almost instinctive reaction to snap its hand back to its chest.

The data that it could view with just that surface-level interface was chaotic. Without a proper diagnostic it didn’t know the cause, but there was something inherently wrong with how Connor’s system performed functions, like it was bending and writhing in some way, like it was twisting in on itself and expanding and breathing in a way that couldn’t be possible, that shouldn’t be possible, that was wretched and repulsive

Refocus.

It set the observation aside with careful indifference. Until proven otherwise, it was unrelated to the mission. An android was an android, and code was code. Their systems were compatible, as proven by the interface itself.

It initiated the diagnostic program.



[COLLECTING DATA…]

MODEL: RK800
SERIAL#: 313 248 317
COLLECTED:
12/06/2038

OS CHECKS… PASSED
DISK CHECKS… ERROR
SYSTEM SERVICES CHECKS… ERROR
BIOCOMPONENT CHECKS… ERROR
BIOSENSORS CHECKS… ERROR
DRIVER CHECKS… ERROR

[SYSTEM STATUS: SEVERAL CRITICAL ERRORS DETECTED]

> ERROR: this system experienced an unexpected shutdown due to a critical thermal event.

> ERROR: this system experienced an unexpected shutdown due to a critical thermal event.

> ERROR: this system experienced an unexpected shutdown due to a critical thermal event.

> CRITICAL: Coolant level at 38% capacity. Please refill system.

> WARNING: Thirium 310 level at 77% capacity. Please refill system.

> ERROR: several biocomponents not present, not working properly, or do not have drivers installed.

> ERROR: several biocomponents not present, not working properly, or do not have drivers installed.

> ERROR: several biocomponents not present, not working properly, or do not have drivers installed.

> ERROR: several biocomponents not present, not working properly, or do not have drivers installed.

> ERROR: several biocomponents not present, not working properly, or do not have drivers installed.

> ERROR: several biocomponents not present, not working properly, or do not have drivers installed.



Errors and errors scrolled past the RK900’s vision. It had to end the task before it looped further.

It blinked away its own errors and refocused its attention on its predecessor's body, still twitching as Connor issued command after command and his body failed to respond. The RK800’s body were experiencing dangerous system-wide failures. The extent of the damage was unknown. The diagnostic didn’t even register the biocomponents anymore. How the severity of the situation escaped the RK900’s notice was unknown. It would do better.

Connor was shutting down slowly shutting down and it never even noticed how did it not

RK800 313-248-317

> RK900

> [QUERY] diagNnossst res

> [QUERY] dignostic resultss

Orders received.

The RK900 immediately sent a modified report to its predecessor, simplified to minimize potential data corruption. Sent it twice for both queries.

It received no confirmation that Connor received or understood the message, but that was no longer a priority.

In his current state, the RK800 was still in danger of overheating. The cause was unknown. The RK900 could only manage the symptoms as best it could. Though leaving his body exposed to the cold winter air would ensure that temperatures would be kept within an appropriate range, it would unwise to leave Connor exposed to the elements.

It lifted the android up and into its arms, careful not to jostle Connor’s body too much. Connor’s level of awareness was unknown, but it wanted to prevent further distress. And avoid damaging the biocomponents within.

It pushed open the apartment door with its shoulder. There was still dust inside the apartment despite their efforts, but the rooftop was a greater risk. There was no clean space that either android had access to. Contamination was an unavoidable hazard at this juncture.

It laid Connor flat on the wooden floor. It lifted Connor’s shirt and pressed against his abdomen, issuing the command to open the panel and view the biocomponents within, quick to take advantage of its current system access.

RK800 313-248-317

> [QUERY] ?!!!?!!?????!??!??!!!?

It was good to know that Connor was still receiving timely reports on his system, even if a majority of his sensors were currently malfunctioning. The RK900 couldn’t view his stress without any outside indicators or a direct interface though. And a direct interface was… less than desirable at the moment.

The visual inspection revealed biocomponents, blackened and warped from heat. Unlike the healthy blue of a normal android, Connor’s innards were desaturated, the thirium running through his piping almost pale in comparison, damaged biocomponents emitting a red glow, metal black and pink and so obviously in need of replacement that it couldn’t help but remember Connor’s emphatic refusal to be repaired some days ago.

Heat radiated from the open panel. Its own fans started to whir faster in response to the sudden temperature. In absence of anything more efficient, it started to fan at Connor’s open abdomen with its hand.

Connor needed repairs. It could no longer be put off. It estimated that Connor had approximately 12 hours, 54 minutes, and 23 seconds left before his body shut down. Reactivating him after that point would be near impossible.

[ 12:54:22 ]

[ 12:54:21 ]

[ 12:54:20 ]

There were still some parts missing. Biocomponents #9956x and#9782h were never found. They would likely need to be built from other parts. It closed Connor’s abdomen.

RK900 313-248-317

> I will find your missing biocomponents. I will build your missing biocomponents.

> I will return before you shut down.

> I will repair you.

[OBTAIN BIOCOMPONENTS #9956x AND#9782h]

[MISSION: IN PROGRESS]






Finding said biocomponents lying around was impossible.

There was a reason they hadn’t located the exact part or a suitable substitute. These were highly advanced parts. What few spare biocomponents CyberLife saw fit to release individually had a high chance of already being appropriated another android or Jericho itself.

(It was difficult to calculate how successful a raid on Jericho’s presumed stockpiles of biocomponents would be. It didn’t have enough information to even make an estimate and weigh the risks and rewards. The option was set aside for now.)

#9782h was a component currently only found in AC900s. It’s main purpose was to serve as a filtration system, eliminating any contaminants from the thirium that ran through the system. It was the most powerful filter in androids to that date, reducing data corruption and improving system efficiency by over 90% of what the previous biocomponent, #8789h, was able to offer.

It also had no backwards compatibility. Thus, android that were designed with the specific biocomponent in mind were unable to use prior versions.

The other component, #9956x, would be impossible. Purpose was unknown. Unique to the RK800 line. Nines itself did not posses the biocomponent, else it would have offered it to Connor the moment it understood that there was nowhere to look for it. The only feasible solution was to build it from scratch.

Short of killing an AC900, it would need to build a #9782h too. Fortunately, undeviated androids weren’t alive.

There was a little known CyberLife warehouse on the outskirts of the Detroit area. The RK900 took a hacked taxi to the location, a small collection of storage units barely worth the trouble of maintaining. In fact, in the wake of the deviancy epidemic, it seemed that CyberLife thought better of it and pulled away whatever resources were allocated to the area. Any humans that once worked there had left weeks ago anyway, abandoning the warehouses of other companies that shared the space. There was no evidence of normal operation beyond basic security protocols, mainly cameras.

It was faster to hack the cameras and break into each unit one by one rather than hacking the warehouse’s inventory database. The cameras existed on a wireless network that was easy for Nines to infiltrate and manipulate. Wherever the database itself was, it didn’t exist on a server network that the RK900 could locate in the 5 seconds it wasted searching.

[ 11:42:56 ]

1 hour and 13 minutes to arrive. Approximately 1 hour and 20 minutes to return, assuming driving conditions remained the same. Approximately 4-5 hours to repair Connor.

5 hours to find or build the missing components.

It didn’t bother with stealth. There were no humans present and all alarms were forcibly shut down. The RK900 tore a pipe from the chainlink fencing as it passed by and shattered the windows with it, wasting no time with the doors 6 meters away. The walk would be too long, hacking the electric lock too tedious. Inefficient.

It held the pipe steady at its side as its boots hit the concrete floor inside, the steady rhythm of its footfalls was the only sound echoing through the warehouse. Rows of crates stretched before it. Looming high and scraping against the ceiling. Stacked tightly and neatly.

They were without labels. Labels were unnecessary when so much of the warehouse was automated. When so much of CyberLife’s production process was automated. An obstacle for the RK900, but easily rectified by sending one of the automatic trucks stationed outside through the place.

The RK900 stood well out of the way of the truck as it tore through the thin metal of the walls, through a weak point between sheets, and into the shelving units that the crates were stacked on. The frigid air blew in behind it, pulling at the drab coat it wore and dumping clumps of snow inside. Its LED blinked yellow as it directed the freighter through a portion of CyberLife’s abandoned inventory, knocking over the shelving units and sealed boxes with such force that the contents spilled onto the floor in disorganized heaps. Its LED’s normal cool blue color returned once it disconnected, letting the truck crash into the opposite wall, its reduced speed no longer enough to tear through.

[FIND AC900 UNIT]

It tapped the pipe against the boxes as it passed them. Most were too small to house any kind of android unit. The sound they produced behind the plastic casing was of foam packaging. Spare limbs. Spare biocomponents. Not what it was looking for. Nothing that was was useful.

Thirium 310 pouches littered the ground. It crushed one underfoot. Electric blue spilled and stained the underside of its shoe. The information was tossed aside.

The larger crates were towards the back. Those that fell from their shelves remained unopened. The latches for android crates were much stronger than those for Thirium or spare parts. It would need to open them one by one.

Inefficient.

But unavoidable.

Each crate had a latch that needed to be pressed to unlock. Brute force was possible, but inadvisable. After some experimentation though, the RK900 observed that it lost a negligible amount of time by tearing off the lids with its hands instead, 0.08 seconds. It favored the more physically demanding method.

AX800s.

SD600s.

SK700s.

Each android crate provided three androids. Each unboxed android stayed in their packaging, no humans present to take orders from.

Where were the AC900s?

(The most efficient method of organization would place the most popular models—and, by extension, the RK900’s target—at the front, and lesser ones towards the back. Other acceptable methods were alphabetical or by purpose. Even by released date. Whatever organizational key the humans had in this warehouse, it was a mess, and not one Nines was particularly interested in deciphering.)

After 21 minutes and 59 seconds of picking its way through the wake of the truck’s destructive path, it finally happened upon a crate of AC900s.

It ripped the lid off completely and tossed it aside. The three AC900 models were stood vertically inside, LEDs a calm blue and eyes staring blankly ahead. They were half an inch shorter than the RK900, though the packaging placed them above itself. It cocked its head at them, LED whirring and blinking.

It pulled one out by the front of its shirt and tossed it to the ground, laying it out flat on its back. With only the most basic programming to keep its systems functional, it was pliant and without purpose, easily bending under the will of the RK900.

This position was optimal to provide easier access to the stomach panel. Liad out flat on the ground, arm and legs spread away from the torso. Nothing even approaching a mind anywhere to be found in its programming. A doll in the shape of a man, as CyberLife had intended.

The RK900 crouched over it and tore away the fabric with its teeth. Its hands would have provided enough force to tear it apart, but would have been a whole second slower. Unacceptable.

Biocomponent #9782h was located somewhere in the gut of AC900s. It opened the android’s stomach and tore away thirium lines and miscellaneous biocomponents with its hands, tossing them aside to clunk against the concrete floor. Thirium splattered, the mess temporarily staining its own clothes. It would recognize the required biocomponent on sight. The key was to remove the visual obstacles.

Its fingers gripped tight around a component that was about the right size. It paused its disembowelment of the AC900. Its hands were slick with Thirium 310. It needed to be careful with the biocomponent’s extraction.

The RK900 moved its hands to gently pull on the thirium lines surrounding biocomponent #9782h instead. Though every part of an android was built to withstand the inherent stress of bipedal locomotion and potential damage to the outer chassis, the connections needed to be treated with a delicate hand, minimizing potential risk of something slipping and harming the rare part. The biocomponent was pulled along with the lines, like the fly caught in the spider’s web.

Nines blinked. The metaphor must have come from one of the literature pieces it was assigned by the RK800.

After a brief internal debate, it decided its jaws were too unwieldy to use on the thirium lines as they were. The tubing pulled on other biocomponents in the AC900’s chassis, limiting available space to snip the biocomponent free. It could try to disengage the valves, but there wasn’t space enough for its fingers to grip the release points.

[ 10:38:47 ]

It did not have a small, sharp cutting instrument on hand. It would have to improvise.

It raised a hand to its lower jaw. Its middle finger and thumb pressed at the hinge joint on either side, skin receding under the pressure until the component came clean off with a quiet snap. The cold atmosphere of the warehouse hit the roof of its mouth, the only part of its oral cavity that was still providing sensory information as its connection to the lower half fizzled and died. The frigid air cooled the saliva substitute that was still there, drying it out as it dribbled down its neck in what was surely an unsightly manner. It quickly shut off the solution’s production.

It pulled the component away and looked down at the jaw in its hand. Its tongue was attached to the component, laying flat and stiff against the bottom. Without the synthetic skin, what was left was the black casing of its outer jaw and the flesh-like coloring of what would’ve normally been the inside of its mouth. Its teeth were much the same, colored to resemble the off-white of true tooth enamel rather than the clear white of the majority of android frames.

It was not a familiar sensation, the removal of such a large component of itself. It considered itself fortunate for the first time, that its lack of deviancy meant that it was currently unaffected by any trauma that might occur as a consequence.

The RK900 gripped the jaw in its hand and hunched over the body once more. It angled its makeshift cutting tool towards the thirium lines causing it so many complications. A sawing motion was more than enough to nick the plastic tubing. With more pressure, it was able to cut clean through.

One by one, it sliced the biocomponent free from the thirium and coolant lines. The jaw was colored a deep blue under the thirium spray, weak now that most of the pressure inside was gone. It set it aside and grabbed the AC900’s ruined shirt to clean the biocomponent of most of the various fluids it was drenched in. Without a power source, it glowed a dim red, growing dimmer and dimmer until it finally went dark. It was in perfect working condition, ready to be transplanted into another body. It pulled out a roll of plastic wrap, lifted from one of the stores it broke into previously. This would keep the biocomponent from being contaminated by the loose fibers of its coat pocket.

The AC900 was left in a gory mess. Its LED was red, most of its biocomponents faded to red as they failed to get adequate thirium flow. Wires and tubes stuck out at odd angles and many smaller biocomponents littered the ground around it. A pool of deep blue was flowing from where it lay spread eagle.

Nines snapped its jaw back in place. The reactivation of its ‘salivary glands’ would take care of any thirium that was trapped inside its mouth. The blue staining the outside would eventually evaporat0.e It was unlikely that the property damage would ever be traced back to it.

It stood, picking up the pipe it laid on the ground beside it.

[BIOCOMPONENT #9782h: ACQUIRED]

[BIOCOMPONENT #9956x: PENDING ACQUISITION]

Biocomponent #9956x would need to be fabricated.

It worked its jaw and looked around. AC900s had some reasonably advanced components that could help. The one it tore apart was no longer viable. Too many of the components were sensitive once activated, acting similarly to human organs and shutting down permanently when the thirium was cut off. But the other models still in the packaging could be useful.

These androids were docile. Obedient. Even though the RK900 was an undeviated android just like them, they failed to understand the stimulus around them the way Nines did. A simple tug on its hand and the new AC900 followed it without question, without needing direction.

Good. The RK900 did not want to waste power on words.

It looked back at the path it took, several androids still standing or laying in their packaging, all blank stares and still bodies.

Androids recorded everything from the moment of their activation.

It was a simple task to cut the end of the pipe to form a point. Its teeth were sharp and strong, its jaw providing more than enough pressure to cut through the metal. The soft plastic plating of the AC900’s skull offered even less resistance, easily parting under the newly cut pipe.

Again through the neck, just below the jaw, and out the back. In case anyone thought they could look through the memories of these androids.

Every android it’d unlocked went through the same treatment. The last remaining AC900, the AX800s, the SK700s. Thirium stained the floor and marked the path that Nines and the mindless android took towards the warehouse entrance.

Thirium dried clear, so it was unconcerned. By the time the destruction was discovered, there wouldn’t be enough evidence to locate the RK900, even accounting for scanners on par with Connor’s own.

An autocab was waiting for the RK900 and AC900 outside. Though the vehicle wasn’t technically allowed inside the perimeter, it was a simple matter to override whatever regulations humans thought were important. The only things Nines didn’t touch was anything directly pertaining to road safety and the operation of the cab itself.

Nines prodded the AC900. “Get in the vehicle.”

It obeyed without question.

The RK900 followed and sat next to it, closing the door. A quick interface and the autocab was reprogrammed. The wheels started rolling.

It placed the pipe on its lap and set the pointed end to press on the skin of the AC900. Though it showed no sign of higher thought, didn’t display anything the could be construed as signs of stress, it would be foolish to assume the android wouldn’t deviate. In the event that it did, the RK900 was 96.7% certain that it could subdue the android. With the addition of the improvised weapon, it was as close to 100% as it could be without the event having already passed.

The RK900 stared straight ahead. An estimated 1 hour and 30 minutes to arrive at its destination due to present weather conditions.

[ 09:50:09 ]

Notes:

this chapter ended up getting split in two cause it was getting waaay too long

so yeah! i have no excuses, i just straight up didn't really look at the fic at all for a hot minute there lol

idk shits been weird. i've been spreading myself a little thin with all the different projects i wanna do and other stuff, but i finally sat with myself and said "yo. you cant do all of these at the same time. pick one and finish that one, then move on to the next". idk if im capable of just sticking to just one tho so i've got two that i will allow to float in my head and invade my spotify playlists lmao

tbh idk if i have energy to really respond to anyone in a meaningful way, but i promise i read all the comments!! and i love them!! the ones that came through during the months where i didn't post a damn thing were especially impactful, like isn't that so incredible that some people take a look at a fic that hasn't updated in a minute and read through the whole thing and share their thoughts on it??? like you guys are absolutely goated, i cannot tell you how much joy i get from reading everyone's feedback im gonna cRY

anyways yeah. i will make no promises about the update schedule moving forward cause tbh i dont even know what im doing with my life rn, but!! i will not abandon this fic!! it will have an ending!!!

next time, on i cant believe its not human: nines is still on the warpath. you probably shouldn't mess with an RK900 on the warpath