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boop-le-snoot · 2 years

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what if...

the avengers met the multiversal trespassers & you were the assistant. crack fic. part 2. read part 1 here.

The initial briefing goes about as well as it can.

Clint is absolutely plastered from Dr. Banner's THC cookies and barely can string a sentence together much less offer any insight, the Peter trio abandons everybody in favour of pointing out the differences and similarities between themselves, Sam has to withstand Max's fanboying over him and The Falcon, Tony quietly converses with Dr. Octavius - or Doc Ock, as his Peter called him all the while Banner and Strange try to figure out a way to turn the Lizard back into a human man.

Steve and Bucky, while not giving you a direct reason for your headache, had done nothing but eat everything in sight since they got there. The good Captain doesn't even try to make sense of the situation, his jaw just keeps moving as he reads something on his tablet.

As usual, you get to do the dirty work. The newcomers' faces and other appendages have been plastered all over the social media; Twitter is blowing up, as usual when there is a superhero sighting, but it's not the argumentative 140-character posts you are worried about.

It's Tumblr. The inhabitants of the hellsite had gone absolutely mad over some grainy footage of Dr. Octavius and his four extra appendages: the fact that there's not enough pixels to even have a good look at his face didn't stop them. Within several hours of his initial appearance, fanart had appeared and some of it makes your cheeks heat as you hurry to lower the brightness of your screen.

"We should clear up the internet," Tony says offhandedly in your direction.

"Good luck with that," you scoff. "There's fanart already."

"Damn, they're quick," the engineer mutters, crossing his arms. "This lovely gentleman is from the year 2004 so he's got a lot to catch up on. I hoped we could start with Wikipedia or YouTube, you know," the warning in Tony's words is clear. Do not traumatise the old man.

Old Peter, however, had his own ideas. "Oh yeah, it's absolutely insane these days. I've seen some seriously questionable drawings of me."

Accompanied by baby spider's groan, Old Peter completely ignores Tony's rapidly widening eyes and subtle head movements begging him to shut up.

It seems like all Peters have a talking problem, because Middle Peter doesn't hesitate to add his own five cents: "Oh yeah, I was there for the great Tumblr ship wars. Almost didn't go patrolling one night because a few people were hell-bent on getting rescued by me just so they could accurately describe my... Abs."

"Interesting," Dr. Octavius remarks, a corner of his mouth tilting upwards in what you could only describe as pure mischief.

His face loses several decades of age thanks to that single gesture and you shudder, thinking of people's reaction when the internet Gremlins actually get a good at him in all his smouldering, tentacled glory. One crooked smirk and they're all going to be gone, lost in the desert of thirst for Doc Ock.

Of course, he notices you looking at him, his smirk growing into a toothy, teasing smile in an instant. "Don't worry, darling, I'll try my best to give you no trouble."

Tony's gaping like a fish, eyes darting between the two of you like he'd just witnessed a heinous crime right at the tip of his nose. You'd gotten immune to his antics ages ago, knowing that his flirting was nothing more than a conversational habit, but you had no doubt that Doc Ock's cheeky words are going to put Tony in an existential crisis in approximately twenty minutes.

Tony might have been a genius... Yet, his self-awareness was severely lacking.

You clear your throat, swiping away the tab with the drawings of agile, mechanical tentacles. "What's the plan, guys? I can't keep off the press for very long and the public relations department needs at least two hours to prepare a statement that will hold up to the masses."

Tony fiddles with the drawstrings of his hoodie. "We need to cure Dr. Connors and find two more of the stowaways."

You take note of the Lizard's government name, writing it down in your notes. "There's two more? Why aren't you out looking?"

Tony sighs and you feel dread slowly creep up your spine.

"One of them is man made of sand. Don't ask me, I've no clue how that works," the engineer raises his hands before you can even get a word in. "The other one is an incredibly intelligent, violent psychopath."

You carefully consider your options, weighing in the innate instinct to rip out your hair and scream against the logical solution to the current predicament. You're incredibly good at your job, so common sense wins. Nearly effortlessly.

"I'll get the PR guys," you sigh, before turning to the newcomers. "If you need anything - and I mean anything, clothes, a phone, food - just ask FRIDAY and she will relay it to me. I'll do my best to deliver quickly."

"Friday?" You hear Dr. Octavius ask, and Tony is immediately sidetracked, preoccupied with talking all about his cool AI, jealousy over his assistant long forgotten. To give credit where it due, Doc Ock himself looks like all his Christmases just came to be.

In about an hour, you finally get your hands on some food, after sending a small army of interns to get the multiversal trespassers their necessities. The PR department is already mid-way through cooking up a half decent cover-up and the crazy Lizard-man is not causing you any more grief, safely locked away in Bruce's hulk-out room. Your chest finally feels relaxed enough to fit in the appropriate amount of oxygen in it.

Suddenly, an explosion shakes the floor under you. You jump up, in alarm, your fried noodles flying all over your desk, and look at the city below, searching for the source of the small but strong earthquake.

"Ma'am, Sir kindly requests you not be alarmed. The explosion was due to an equipment malfunction." FRIDAY'S voice sounds almost apologetic.

"Is Dr. Octavius with him?" You rub your temple, knowing where this is going and refusing to accept it anyway.

"Yes, ma'am," FRIDAY's tone changes to near glee. "They just refurbished codes to Dr. Octavius' AI and now are attempting to make the actuators fully retractable. They have both agreed that their current state is unsatisfactory, considering the opportunities this universe provides."

Shaking off several soggy noodles off your shirt, you put a spring to your step as you huff and march towards Tony's private lab. "I'll show you two something unsatisfactory..."

#avengers crackfic #spiderman nwh #all aboard the thirst train choo choo #for doc ock of course #this is kinda meta

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dope-squish · 6 years

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Programmed And Damned [ RK800 Connor X Reader ] [ Detroit: Become Human ] - Chapter Three - I Am Alive

[ Goal - 90 Hearts/Reblogs ][ goalreached.exe has stopped working. next chapter delayed for a week ]

[ Comments are extremely appreciated so please do comment. it makes authors feel great, i promise. it boosts our confidence ] [ Please press the heart button, the reblog button and share this fanfic to anyone and anywhere, this way, we'll more likely reach our goal ] [ Special mention to @timelizzy21 , @angsty-otters-blog , @connorshero , @divadonadance1 , thank you so much for commenting *^* your comments made my day and i will continue making this story interesting so please keep reading on ][wanna make a fanart or soundtrack for the story? feel free to do so but if you ever do, please send them to me so i can post them in the future chapters so they can be appreciated]

You have claimed the victory over the current Clash even if it hasn't officially begun yet. You can already tell after scanning your android foes and learning that they were not used with what violence the battle holds. They were inexperienced, not compatible for combat and ultimately served a whole different purpose for the needs of human beings but it wasn't a foreign sight to see them standing idly and with little to no knowledge standing in the arena of an Android Clash - with an outstanding and jaw dropping amount of cash offered as the grand prize for the emerging winner, most android owners couldn't careless about such facts.

They were greedy for everything and anything, hungry for temporary and sinful happiness residing in this world along with wealth and fame, uncaring for their purchased and oblivious android who spent all their time and energy tending to them like loyal servants kissing their masters' foot.

But then again, money itself can easily alter much in the existing community. Take for example faithfulness, love, discipline, honesty, and logic. Those are just some human characteristics that could cease to exist once money comes into the question and no matter the circumstances, it will remain a known fact to the world. Most say that humans are to be considered kings among androids but in reality, the humans nor the androids nor the deviants run the world but rather, money. Oh poor humans, using their domesticated androids as their personal makeshift money puking machine.

Humans are naturally greedy. Is there anything else to it? You thought as you silently observed a group of huddling men exchanging currency to one another from a corner, occasionally sputtering a name, an android model (at times you do hear them murmuring something along the lines of "that combat android who always fucking wins"), and maybe a curse word with saliva coming out along with it or a not-so-affable shove to their seatmate as they animatedly fought over which android would most likely end up being eliminated first and it came to no surprise that they concluded it was the deviant - seeing as it was the only one standing out in the arena and shuddering in fear, dilated eyes darting to every existing corner of the place and hands clamming open and close.

"Three, two, one," The insufficiently dressed emcee exiting the arena through the hidden door only humans can access to with a flippant twirl and outstretched her open palm in the air. "Androids ready?"

This was normally the time you'd rid yourself off all distractions but you can't help but continue glancing over at the deviant, scrutinizing it like what a scientist would with a newly discovered strange specimen.

Your memory log instantly brought you back to the time the deviant had pitifully begged for you to grace it with your mercy, to not harm it, to not have it shut down out of overwhelming damage. A partial side of you wanted to retaliate, to inform it that killing it would be as painless as a soft feather cascading down your skin, that is - of course - if it deactivated its pain receptors. But you didn't, or rather, you can't.

[ SYSTEM ERROR ^ ]

Your eyelids fluttered down to cover your vision. Focus on the objective. There is nothing more important than accomplishing my objective. Just focus. That deviant is a distraction to you, forget about it.

But no matter how many times you've deleted that memory from your folder, it seems to keep recovering and recovering, like you were reminiscing a fond memory. And in what way can you focus and act on your purpose when your system error keeps amplifying, thirium pump thrusting surplus of thirium into your circuits, LED flickering from three different colors at the same time and the smoldering eyes fixated on your frame by the same RK800 android ay the upper bleachers?

"Fight!"

You didn't let the cheers of the humans register in your eardrums before your survival and combat instincts was automatically activated against your wishes. In a flash, your hands extended out and ruthlessly seized the nearest android within the vicinity of your form that has not yet prepared to take action and severely dug your fingers into its eye sockets, productively drawing blue blood from them and foreseeable fracturing its brown colored optics, its eyesight no longer functioning. Its body involuntarily spasmed as its programmig fruitlessly strived to adjust to the permanent damage, its system malfunctioning and protractedly shutting down.

Yet another android stampeded up to you with its hands outstretched, an intention for strangulation unmistakable in its eyes. In an immediate, you turned your first victim towards the assaulting android and used its mechanical body as a shield from the unrewarding onslaught of the other.

Its movements faltered by the second as it realized its strategy to spontaneously supply attacks wasn't working - clearly pondering over its next motion - you took this opportunity to deliver a swift kick on the back to your makeshift shield towards the direction of the offending android and swiftly swung your fist behind you, previously having been alerted by your system that another android was going to attack you from behind after sneaking to your back. Focus. Just focus.

Regardless of being preoccupied by the other androids carelessly throwing any kind of attack on you with little to no precise planning, you didn't miss the deviant's figure backing away from the violence presented right before his eyes before his back kissed the wired walls, fingernails digging into its palms and hands pressed against its chest as it powerlessly watched the commotion you were winning over with ease.

A thought crossed your mind and etched on it longer than necessary. Should I spare this deviant?

But your main task flashed once more in your vision, overlapping the system errors in your vision -

[ Current Objective - Eliminate All Foes ]

And you were positive that the highlighted word "all"did not exclude the deviant from the majority. You are a renowed combat android in the Underground Android Clashes but you are also renowed for another thing - pulling off your objective at all cost and you are not going to let this inconsequential android turned defective to get in your way. Or rather, your owner's way.

Detecting a punch hurtling your way, you instantly ducked down, slid across the cemented floorings and initiated a kick towards whatever android that decided to take you on to which caused it to tumble backwards and down, bringing the two other androids along with it. As they are in tangled limbs and too occupied gathering their wits, you whipped around and located another android - not the shaking deviant by a cranny of the arena - seemingly preparing its attack on you but before you could react appropriately to the situation, the android punched a bigger hole through the wired walls, curled its palm on an empty bottle of alcohol perched precariously on top of a stack of crates and didn't hesitate to smash it against its skull. Million piercing shards prodded on its skull, small and almost unnoticable sparks of electricity sprouting from its small wounds as thirium leaked out. The deviant screamed in utmost horror, hands flying over to its agape mouth as the deafening and fascinated clamors of the humans wracked the whole factory like an earthquake. Thirium splattered and painted all over the ground as the android fell, eyes fluttering open and close before inevitably shutting down with a thrumming hum, eyes wide open - dare to say lifeless - and lips parted in a silent scream.

You can't do anything else but mimic the android's dropped open mouth. You have never witnessed an android - or its in case - deviant begging before, but being a live audience to an android committing suicide, especially in front of you, was a surreal moment, never been heard in history or seen in social networks. Did it turn deviant just now just for it to end its short lived deviancy out of fear of being torn apart by its same specie?

[ SYSTEM ERROR ^ ]

"Hey, hey, hey! Watch out!"

Snapping out of your train of thought from Ruth's booming voice, you flimsily dodged an incoming blow from an android and caught its fist in your awaiting palm. Its LED turned red as you tilted your head, the corners of your eyes turning to slits. "Wrong move," You murmured under your breath and wasted no time pulling at its arm with all your encoded strength, your foot painfully wedging on its stomach. Sparks of electricity formed at the joints of its left arm as the wires connecting its arm to its body gradually gave out. With one final pull on the arm and one firm kick on its stomach, the arm was successfully removed from the android with its blue blood layering it. You watched it fall to the ground with a painful thud, twitching with its optic eyes appearing and disappearing. You saw it open its mouth to sputter something out but you didn't give it any chance to say its final words and brutally stepped on its head over and over and over until you were certain it was no longer active.

A triumphant grin etched its way to your owner's features, as if he already won the Clash even when you haven't crossed off every android yet. The other android owners, however, did not meet this blessing and cussed like a sailor would and threw a childish tantrum by either stomping their foot or shoving the poor person next to them.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" Edwin Williams hissed at its owned android - or deviant at this point - as it simply answered by slowly falling on its ass and delicately cradling its head in its hands, fingers running through its blond hair. "Get in there and do your fucking job, for fuck sake! Fight back, fight back! Kill that damned combat android!"

"No, no, no," The deviant drawled out through its quivering lips, head rolling back. "Don't . . . want . . . to die. Don't want to, don't want to, don't want to."

A smirk appeared upon your brims as frustration coursed through the veins of the man at his android's disobedience to his commands before facing the two remaining androids standing idly beside one another, emotionless and motionless, just like an android should. Haphazardly tossing the torn arm from your hold, you let it clang against the ground as you calmly took confident strides towards the two androids, aware of their exchange of looks. You cracked your neck, something you've seen action stars do in their starred movies or shows, to intimidate the androids but being immune to emotions and possibly void of any entertaintment knowledge, they didn't see anything out of the ordinary with your action.

A taunting smile adorned your face. "Who's next?"

***

"No doubt that's the same android we're on about." Hank mindlessly commented as he attentively paid attention to the occuring Clash and the combat android - trying to gain any information that could help them in case they fail to put to custody their suspects - and physically winced as he watched the combat android iniated yet another vile attack on its fellow android with no hint of regret or reluctance. "Fuck me in the ass, what is wrong with that one? Can't it kill the other androids in a . . . a less graphic manner? My heart can't take shit like this anymore - shit, goddamn it,"

As Hank covered his eyes to prevent from witnessing anymore gore imagery displayed it, Connor leaned forward even further to get a better view of the arena with his hands gripping on the railings. His eyes remained trailing on the female featured combat android efficiently terminating the other participating androids in the Clash with horrifyingly accurate and clean offense and flawless defense.

Connor's software instability was nowhere near stabilizing - this was prominent from the endless pop ups that never left the corner of his vision - his thirium providing too much of it into his biocomponents and LED flickering from the three primary colors and somehow, although knowledged by they're source, he cannot help but be drawn to the android. If he was a human, he could have considered himself completely fascinated by it. Everything about it was created to perfection - it was perfect, too perfect for it to be gracing its presence in an unlawful enviroment like this aged factory and participating in felonious activities such as this. But considering it didn't know any better than to follow its owner, he couldn't blame all the fault on it.

"It is an android specifically made for combat, lieutenant. It cannot be helped." Connor stated in a tone that could only be described as matter-of-fact (intellectual). "But I can see why you find this . . ." He paused upon seeing the same winning android throw its fellow android behind its back and pointedly shattering its joints, earning it a few cheerful hollers from the audience. ". . . quite disturbing."

"Quite is an understatement." Hank responded with a shudder before his eyes settled on the deviant caught up in an unwanted situation. His brows met and he shook his head, heaving a sigh. "Poor bastard. It didn't deserve to be in there."

Connor watched as the reigning android approached the deviant with confident and giant strides across the thirium covered arena. The deviant scampered away from its former position and ran about the whole premises of the arena, distraughtly trying to escape or delay its inevitable death as it hurtled any metallic remains of the other defeated androids it had already finished off.

"Don't do this! Please, don't! Don't kill me, I'm begging you!" The deviant pleaded as he lifted up his hands in the air, tears prickling the corners of its eyes. "I don't want to die!"

"You can't kill what isn't alive in the first place." It responded monotonously, stepping over a deactivated corpse of an android with its eyes fixated solely on the deviant.

"I know you don't understand why I'm like this. You're not like me, I understand that. You don't understand why I'm afraid . . . why I'm scared to die. I've seen it before." Connor narrowed his eyes as he registered the monologue spoken by the deviant and automatically, he began recording the whole scene through his advanced pupils. The deviant clumsily stumbled back to avoid your delivered kick and as soon as it fell, it got back on its feet and advanced backwards. "The child I was helping before, Emily. She was five years old and she was deaf. Her parents got me to help her communicate with others. I loved her the moment I saw her. She was the reason I became a deviant. Her parents treated me nicely but her . . . she treated me like I was a special android, a friend. She even gave me a name - Daryl. I liked it. Then one day I was walking her back home from school, an armed man blocked us and she was shot by h in the chest five times before he left her there in the streets, bleeding, suffering in a slow death."

Connor's eyebrows knitted. So it saw a human - a small child - die?

[ SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^ ]

And from the way it abruptly halted dead in its track and the significant dilation of its eyes, he knew it was experiencing the same . . . error as he was.

The deviant casted its gaze down, hands falling back to its sides. "I-I was there." It stammered brokenly as its tears fell from its eyes, its voicebox changing pitches as it dragged on. "I needed to help her, I knew that . . . but I couldn't."

"Why?" The combat android questioned suspiciously. Connor didn't miss its LED blinking three different colors, just as his LED was. "Because you wanted the child to die?"

The deviant's head shot right up, eyes wide in offense and hurt. "No!" It defended. "No, no. I don't want her hurt. If I could rewind time, I'd sdo anything to save her. I loved her, she was my first friend, the first and only human to treat me like . . . I'm human. I needed to help her but I couldn't because I was afraid, scared that the man will come back and shoot me like he did with Emily."

"You won't feel any pain so what's there to be scared of?" The other android snapped, its eyes glowering. "You'll just shut down like nothing ever happened, like you never existed. There's no such thing as heaven or hell for androids. When you're gone, you're just gone. No pain, no tears."

Connor can't help but agree with you. How androids could even think of thinking they were mildly worthy of feeling like humans is beyond his knowledge. Maybe CyberLife could help him with this dilemma.

"You don't understand." The deviant fought back.

"I don't have to."

Through the string of complaints from the audiences, a loud slam of a hand caught Connor's attention and as he looked down, he saw a feral looking man shooting daggers at the combat android. "Stop the chatting and start fighting, goddamit!"

***

It seemed instinctive when you charged towards the startled deviant but soon you found yourself holding its jaw, raising it up in the air with one arm. Your never growing fingernails hazardously punctured through the synthethic skin of the deviant's slender neck, graciously drawing out blue blood from its damaged part. Its face contorted to what appears to be agony, discomfort and lack of oxygen - which immensely perplexed you to no exact extent for no android - not even deviants - need oxygen to circulate in their system to function properly.

It was possible and not uncommon for androids to play pretend with emotions as to not cause discomfort for humans. When they are ordered to partake food in an event or even in a simple dinner for normalcy, they will do so. When they are asked to drink a certain liquid, they will do so. When they are asked to breathe, they will simply mimic what they've observed from humans and commence. But in this case, in this precarious circumstance where living beings' comfort doesn't apply for the time being, the deviant - its given name stated as Daryl - didn't need to continue acting like a marionette with strings. Yet here it was suffering in your hold like a human teetering in and out of consciousness, clawing on your hand with its projected tears cascading down its cheeks, begging for your mercy that will never come to its aid.

[ SYSTEM ERROR ^ ]

"Please," It rasped out the remaining juice of its voice box held in your grip. "Don't."

The clamors and insulting jeers of the non-artificial humans' sneering lips resounded in the coved interiors of the aged factory, combining with the distinct flutterings of cash and unevenly timed applause, you could hear them chanting one thing - "End it!"

"Sorry," You apologized monotonously and tightened your envelopment around its throat. "Nothing personal, I'm just accomplishing my objective."

Your eyes detected the frantic dilation of its pupils, the white enlarging as its body shuttered and frenzied, its survival instincts (Asimov's rule number three undoubtedly kicking in is instructions, overlapping its original objective which was to go against you). It thrashed around, legs kicking with no particular intent but to escape and arms flailing, trying to loosen your grip around it but to no avail - your thirium coated hand was unrelenting and strangling, overpowering for the deviant to accomodate and have its system adapt to the change.

The deviant's hues pleaded with you through his damp eyeballs, tongue lolling out as air left its biocomponent lungs. "We are the same,"

Your eyes shot open as your microcontroller unit processed its spoken statement and unintentionally saved the audio in your folders. Your thirium pump accelerated in speed, flooding your biocomponents with an overwhelming amount of thirium as your unit typed the word "unintentional" to a search engine and discovered its conceptual term. Upon conducting a brief research, you can unsafely but with sure certainty that you were not constructed by CyberLife with evidence of uncertain antics. But then how come you've done something unexistent in your instructions?

A glitch? A programming error made by CyberLife? Or worse, a will?

[ SYSTEM ERROR ^ ]

Paying no significang attention to your malfunctioning frame, you spoke with hesitant finality, "We are nothing alike."

A faint "yes"spewed out from your owner's lips was hiddden behind your hearing - unimportant - as a bloodcurling scream of terror in a form of "no" pierced through all coexisting noises followed by a startling sound of skin meeting thin metal ringing in your eardrums. A pair of amber orbs appeared behind the wired walls where you stood lifting the deviant by its neck, delicate fingers swathing around the smell of circles of the walls and throat contracting from - scanning - fear.

Recognition settled in your features and a familiar name appeared in your vision. "Autumn -"

"Stop it, [ Your Name ]. Just stop it. Don't kill him." Autumn's voice was demanding, commanding. Something you rarely hear leave her lips. "This is murder."

Your flickering LED turned momentarily yellow as overlapping instructions fused with your objective. "But Autumn, it's not ali -" She interjected sharply before you could properly construct your desired statement, to which you raised an eyebrow at.

"It is alive, he is alive." Autumn argued as she leaned further to the wall, the rusting metal closing in on her face. "And you are too!"

Her words shot right through your unwavering belief of the difference between androids and humans. Your grasp faltered for a moment or so until it returned to its original vice. "I am . . ." You trailed off reluctantly through gritted teeth. ". . . not alive."

From the corner of your eye, you spotted a seething Ruth practically radiating off a murderous vibe. "Autumn, what the fuck are you doing? Get outta here, now! That is an order!"

But your owner might have forgotten that his daughter was no android and had a desire of her own so she ignored him and continued on. "To me - this deviant - is alive! If you can't do it for yourself, then do it for me. He has a life, [ Your Name ]. Don't kill him."

Humans are the most intelligent and most simple minded of all beings created in this complex and wretched world. You knew better than anyone else that androids possess realistic features such as humans has, for you are one too. From the undiscrenable count of strands of hair to the unique fingerprints - androids are so similar to humans, in appearance wise, that humans themselves are deceived these robotic entities are alive - or was it in their nature to empathize? Either way, you've seen people fall for it and Autumn Judge was no exception to be a fool of this.

You begin, "But your father -"

Autumn snapped. "- doesn't care at all! He never cared for anyone, especially not you! To him, you're just a money making machine! But I care for you and it's because I care for you that I'm telling you to not kill him! You're not only killing your own, you're killing a human!"

A human. A human. A human.

[ SYSTEM ERROR ^^ ]

"It's a deviant!" You yelled as you aimed your sight on it, aware of its glistening tears. "Not a human."

It's not alive. I'm not alive. It's not alive. I'm not alive.

Her rigid features softened and she whispered, "Don't you want to be?"

A frown designs your face as yoy momentarily looked at her, brows burrowing in puzzlement. "To be what?"

She continues in a soft voice, "To be alive? To be . . . human?"

[ SYSTEM ERROR ^^ ]

An inaudible gasp escaped your lips as your hand unwrapped from the deviant's throat, releasing it. It inhaled sharply through its damaged throat to make up for the loss of oxygen after it landed on the cement.

Maybe it wasn't a will. Maybe - just maybe - it was a need - a need to feel. A need to be alive. A need to be human.

"I am . . . " You swallowed the thick blob of saliva dangling at the back of your throat, eyes blinking and system overheating from undetected reasons. With much hesitance, you continued, ". . . alive?"

[ MALWARE DETECTED :

I AM A L I V E ? [ YES ] [ NO ] ]

Before you could register the smile forming on the deviant's and Autumn's lips, a calloused hand appeared out of thin air and took hold of her beautiful locks, harshly tugging her back to which caused her to fall on her bum and cry out in combination of astonishment and pain. Her knees magnetted to her chest as her flailing hands flew up to the same hand causing her agony. Your eyes trailed up to the hand then to the arm then to the face of the assailant and what you saw didn't really surprise you, but it certainly made your LED color crimson.

"What have you done? What did you do to my android, huh?" Ruth snarled, teeth gnashing. "Tell me what fucking happened!"

Autumn turned her head up, glaring at her father. "Let me go, you asshole!"

But her begging fell upon unforgiving ears as Ruth merely yanked harder on her soft and silky locks. "You never know when to stop, do you? You jusy keep going on and on until you piss me off. Well, you got it, Autumn. You got me fucking pissed off."

Your LED flickered red and yellow. The glint in your owner's eyes - Autumn's father - was full of loathing and disappointment. He looked like he was prepared to disown Autumn as his family. You were sure a child would feel unwanted once seeing that kind of glower in their parents' eyes. It was - in your opinion - unacceptable for a father to look at his daughter like that. No child should feel unloved, unwanted.

A loud gasping caught your attention to which caused you to turn to the deviant who was holding its bleeding throat. It firmly looked at you right in the eyes. "You need . . ." It wheezed. ". . . to help that girl."

Ruth must have picked up the deviant's command for he directed his blazing gaze on you and pointed at your figure. "Don't you dare move." He snarled threateningly and immediately, your body stilled and waited for further instructions.

A realization got you grounded, frozen. Your body had a desire to move, to disregard the obedience CyberLife put in you, to defend Autumn from her own abusive and only family, but you were being held back by your programming. So there you stood rooted in your spot, watching helplessly as Ruth mistreated his daughter with physical and emotional harm.

Stop. Don't hurt her.

Current Objective - Don't move ]