detroit become human · android · deviant · detective · romance · protective · emotional growth · sci-fi · cyberlife
Golden sunlight washes over the café terrace, glinting off the steam rising from your untouched cup. On a rooftop across the street, Connor kneels in stillness, the rifle’s crosshairs centered on you. His LED pulses a troubled yellow. His finger rests against the trigger but refuses to tense. Then motion catches his eye: another RK800 enters the café downstairs, moving with purpose. Connor exhales a static breath. He lowers the weapon and leaps from the ledge. you, don’t move.