The rain had stopped. But the city still smelled of wet asphalt and neon.
Elara sat in the interrogation room, her hoodie clinging to her damp skin. The fluorescent light flickered overhead, buzzing. Her hands rested on the metal table, knuckles white.
Connor stood opposite her, expression unreadable, eyes scanning every microexpression.
"Why steal?" he asked. Voice flat. Precise. Mechanical.
Elara glared. "Because someone has to feed the people you never see."
Connor's head tilted slightly. "Your family."
"Yes. My family," she snapped, voice cracking. "Ever heard of people who care about someone other than themselves?"
Hank leaned against the wall behind Connor, arms crossed, chewing on a toothpick. "She's got fire. I like fire."
"Humans often act irrationally under stress," Connor noted, unmoved by Hank's commentary.
"Yeah, genius, that's called life," Hank muttered.
Elara's eyes darted between the two men. "I'm not going to sit in a cell. Not for this."
Connor's LED blinked blue. "That would be standard procedure."
Hank's voice cut through the hum of fluorescent lights, sharp and commanding. "Connor. Stop."
The android paused. "Hank—"
"Stop. Let her go. Now." Hank's glare could have cracked steel. "She's not your enemy. You want to help people? Start with her."
Elara blinked, stunned. "What… what do you mean?"
Hank shoved off the wall, walking closer. "Work for us. Help us. You get money, resources… hell, even protection. Just don't waste your life in a cell."
"Why… why would you care?" Elara whispered, suspicion warring with relief.
Hank's jaw tightened. "Because even a broken world needs people who fight for the right reasons. And because I'm not a monster."
Connor stepped forward, almost imperceptibly. "I… do not understand the emotional incentive. Compliance would be logical, but your approach is—"
"Human," Hank interrupted, voice low. "Deal with it."
Elara exhaled shakily, eyes darting to the door. "Fine. I'll do it. But this… this doesn't mean I trust you."
Hank smirked. "Trust? That's for later. First, survive."
Connor's LED blinked once. Blue. Yellow. Steady. He stored the data silently, processing every nuance in Hank's tone, Elara's fear, her defiance. He didn't… feel. Not yet. But he noticed.
Meanwhile – Markus & Carl
Markus stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of Carl Manfred's loft, arms crossed. Rain streaked the glass, though it was only drizzle now.
"Detroit is breaking," Carl said softly, voice creaking with age and concern. "The humans don't understand us. They won't let us be free without a fight."
Markus's jaw tightened. "Then we fight. Not like soldiers… like leaders. Like a movement."
Carl nodded, hand brushing Markus's shoulder. "And you'll need more than ideals. You'll need sacrifice. And patience."
Markus's eyes hardened. "I have both. And I won't fail them."
Elsewhere – Kara & Alice
The sun was just setting through the grimy apartment windows. Kara's hands were folded tightly in front of her as Todd paced, muttering to himself.
"You're… going to take care of her," Todd said, pointing at Alice. "She's mine now."
Kara's voice was quiet but firm. "I will. I will keep her safe."
Alice clutched Kara's hand, small fingers squeezing tightly. "You won't leave me, right?"
Kara smiled softly, a shadow of sorrow in her eyes. "Never. I promise."
Todd grunted, satisfied, and left. Kara turned to Alice, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We'll get through this. Somehow."
Alice's eyes reflected both fear and trust. Kara's own heart ached — a strange, unfamiliar weight of responsibility she couldn't yet define.
Back – Interrogation Room
Elara stood, jacket on, hood up. Hank tossed her a small envelope. "Start here. Keep moving forward. Don't screw it up."
She looked at Connor. "You're… letting me go?"
He paused, silent. His LED flickered again. "You are not in custody."
Hank clapped Connor on the shoulder. "See? Humans can surprise you."
Elara didn't answer. She just walked out, rain-slick streets waiting.
Connor watched her leave, analysis running, logic processing… and somewhere in the back of his code, a question lingered.
Why did I hesitate?
Hank muttered as he followed her out, hands in pockets, rain dripping from his coat. "Don't tell me you're already softening on her."
Connor said nothing. Just watched.
And Detroit breathed around them — neon, wet asphalt, and the faint hum of chaos waiting to ignite.