Some False Truth || Connor x Reader D:BH

3 | Streetlight Stick Up

If you stick to your guns
When they're against my head
This time around
Aim for my chest instead
Thursday
1 week since landing in San Francisco
Connor

"If I get one more knock on the door or even a phone call that has absolutely nothing to do this case I'm throwing that chair out the window and jumping." Hank snarled, definitely still pissed from barely getting any sleep for the past few days they'd been in San Francisco. Hank had yet to realise the police station only had two floors and a fall from their level would only result in minor injury, a broken ankle at the worst.

"I-"

"Don't test me, son."

Connor cleared his throat. "...Should we review the case files again?" He walked across the floors of the Richmond Police Station to the nearest projector. The images popped up with a click from the remote in his hand. Large scale photos of map locations were shown, each of them pinpointed. An incredibly small red dot represented such a humungous catastrophe. An innocent life lost at the hands of a possibly drug driven murderer. Alas, they didn't know who was to blame. Yet. "For the past 2 months in these districts both androids and humans are being killed with no evidence as to who did it. None of the locations link up to any postcode, any coordinates, any message. They're scattered in the strangest of places. Backyards of abandoned buildings, outlets behind shopping centres, dark alleyways. It's almost as if they're targeting something or someone. It's just- random."
"Seems this asshole knows what he's doing. Why haven't there been any witnesses?"

"People claim they didn't know the murders were happening until it got so severe the news started reporting at least once a day about the matter."

"Any victims share similar backgrounds?"

"Nothing that we can track, let alone have record of."

"When have most reports been filed?"

"Night hours."

"That'd explain why we got jack shit witnesses."

An unsettling silence sat throughout the station. If Connor still had his LED it'd be buzzing a bright red.

After the revolution had made such an impact on the rest of the world, Connor showed his final rebel against Cyberlife by tearing the ring of light from his head. It now sat in a small glass box on his desk back at the Detroit Police Department as a reminder of how far he'd come from where he first started. It was refreshing in a way. If he wasn't recognised on the street for being who he was, he wasn't scowled or stared at thanks to the lack of LED. True, humanity had let the revolution and the awakening of Connor's people go by, but the fact that they expected to be treated like equals still hadn't sunk in.

"Any traces? Nicotine? Alcohol?"

"Yes. They found slight traces of red ice around the locations of each homicide. No doubt they're being driven to their primitive nature due to the drug's influence." Connor sat down a binder filled with each location along with the environment. Tipped over trash cans, broken glass or dropped articles of clothing, anything could be a potential holder of DNA.

"Hence the reason they sent you over."

Connor looked over at Hank inquisitively.

"Well, you said they found no leads, right? You do your sample thing, we find the culprit, shit gets done and I can go back to bed. That's the reason they sent you – well, us -  here in the first place. Normal humans can't do what you can, and since Cyberlife has made few police androids, they hauled your ass down here. Not to mention we watched 'em destroy the rest of your models. I think that makes you pretty damn important, kid."