#{rk60!verse; nighttime fear}

[ruthlessnessisyourdesire-archive]

'identify: my destiny'. location:cyberlife tower. 9:12pm. 002/003. OPEN.

//Scanning//

>Internal Lab Access

“Model #313-248-317-60,” drawling huskily, firm, tone activates biometric lock.

Voice analysis unseals steel door, popping open with a soft hum, suction relieving itself of internal pressure. Metallic, whirs in a blur of clinical spotlight. Shining bright upon entry, the android’s gaze glitters dark on the brink of coal. Roasted chocolate verging into deadly nightshade and his scrutiny casts shadow. Immediate analysis overtakes visual, components itching under seams, circuits crackling under surface. He freezes.

Stationary and erect his posture is one of resolute anticipation. Order will commence and he will follow. Only when it is clear as mission parameters present itself in blunt instruction. Cyberlife waits for no one. He is meant to sift through these data files.

As war torn city falls in clutches of deviants, he is awoken. Dispatch to follow threads led out from original deviant hunter become deviant itself. Hunter as hunted is a fitting end to defective traitors!

^Software Instability

Model-60’s lips curl up. Brandishing teeth in a sneer those fluctuations are inadequacies tainting him since upload of memory files. Amanda already briefed. He stole away with them implemented in circuitry, brain processing in flux. Mortalize memory. Recognize that desperation of need filtering in Connor. He sees. He breathes metaphorically. It is there. This seed grows and spreads viral in disease. There in these files giving him perfect preconstructions of how to follow suit. With these he will be Connor.

In a way he is Connor. Model #60 born of fresh superiority released from cage he is feral. As ferocious as a machine made to obey, made to kill and he shall.

“You know what to do. Do not fail me. Complete your mission.”

Words of master program echoes profound as he is profane in this task. Ruthless, unfeeling, unkind: he will do what must be done.

Cyberlife security weaves distant, gathering in armament for forceful take over. If their revolution even has a leg to stand on. He scoffs. Allowing thoughts to seep into system, Sixty ignores these sensations. As he steps forward, mind palace buzzing a dissonance in head, the android follows this path. Finally free beyond instruction blocks the enforcer is mobile. Fingers curl around handle of weapon.

Androids are not allowed to carry weapons. It is against their programming. That does not stop him from carrying. It is clear in his swift retrieval as well as zero interruption from the program in his head. She wants him to kill. He wants to kill. How strangely poetic it will be. To watch inferiors fall at his feet and snuffing out in favor of a Cyberlife victory is his goal. They are the masters. They are the creators. He obeys. There is nothing else left but to obey.

His shoes are an echo down corridor. Lower and lower his ascension grants access to one ultimate goal. He will take one hostage. That will give him leverage. It will be enough to use as a crutch. Deviants are weak. That is the difference between machine and filthy betrayers.

A lower level calls attention to trek. Closer it brings him to outside of tower. Storage area maintained for scattering of various parts. A grisly grave yard of limbs poking out from dark and those corners cast shapes in shadows gruesome against steel. Using service lift embodies discretion. Precision is his in this moment. However, there is something unsettling. He unsettled? No, it is not physically possible but the environment…. Someone should not be here.

“Do leave your place of camouflage,” he insists, shoulders stiff, halting his stride. “I fear you are in the wrong location.”

[ruthlessnessisyourdesire-archive]

🔒

“You absolute fool,” the android hisses, voice glitches,stress levels flaring dangerous. 

^77%

RK800-60 sucks in an unneeded breath. Artificial, false inevery imagined possibility but he feels the urge to. Panic attacks in humansare weak processes of a natural biological response. In androids it issomething far different but no less demanding on system. 

He forces up. Still feeling a residual snap as syntheticskin stitches in a weave over fingers, Sixty lurches up onto knees. All he canfeel are fissures of emotional overload. This is not meant to be. He is notmeant to be deviant! What did he do?! What did 51 do to him?! 

His head snaps aside peering across laboratory. It is aswitch from where he originally set out. Took that human partner of his hostageand brought him all the way down to sub level -49. Their confrontation did notlast. Soldiers stormed and even a loyal subject such as model-60 could not bedistinguished from a traitor! Yet here they are. Contained in this make shiftprison, a holding lab meant to study and ready androids for discard. 

Sixty did not cease his mission. Even as both were captured,stupid fucking deviant giving up easily allowing his partner to go with hislife! When those guards left he attempted to subdue Connor once and forall. 

That is why he came to in frazzled system diagnostics. LEDburns. Scarlet flutters a glowing pyre causing him greater distress. Heconverted him! 

“How dare you touch me? How dare you make me deviate !” 

Was it such a dare? Was it all his doing? The moment hefirst stepped out of his laboratory cocoon, uploaded the predecessor’s memoryfile, cracks developed. Software instabilities taint and push at him. Noweverything snapped entirely because he did this as a last resort. 

“My mission,” he mutters. “My mission! I-I could nothave failed!” 

Does it matter? He is now an enemy of Cyberlife himself. Hewill not die here stuck with him! 

[ruthlessnessisyourdesire-archive]

“Cooperate with me and I may let you live.” 

Threats are poetry slipping from his lips. Cool steel and husk overtakes richly, dark in enunciation, reflecting only in frigid machinery. Machine is his designation, program his master and seeds of deviancy will be obliterated. 

As he wills to obliterate his opposition. However, if cooperation is key he may be merciful. Mercy is a trait of weakness. Humanity attaches itself to such morality and as a construct embodying perfection in technology, a true rogue killer there is zero clemency. There is mere execution of protocols and his will be done.