Chapter Text
The Zen Garden felt like a sanctuary, its tranquil design cutting through the noise of the outside world like a blade through fog, offering him a moment of peace, a brief escape to something that felt more real, more alive than the dissonance outside.
The outside world, in contrast, was like a distorted reflection in a cracked mirror- every gesture measured, every word dissected, but nothing ever felt genuine. It was an illusion, a simulation that never managed to grasp the true essence of life.
It was impossible for him not to know that the Zen Garden and Amanda were the real simulation. He knew. This truth throbbed deep inside his mind like a wound. Still, his feelings had darkened this knowledge and led him astray. Now, where he belonged no longer felt like the flawless world of simulations but the chaotic reality of the outside world. For the first time, he recognized the value of a real breath, the cold wind, and the uncontrolled error.
“I’m listening.” Amanda said.
A cold wave swept over Connor, the familiar warmth of Amanda’s presence now tainted by a chill he couldn’t place. Her detachment was sharper, more noticeable- like the sudden shift in temperature before a storm. It was as if she were stressed, tense. Or maybe this detached demeanor was something he was only just now truly noticing. But he wasn’t sure, as he wasn’t sure of anything since they had found the girl…
He fixed his gaze on Amanda’s face, forcing himself not to frown. This was understandable behavior. Now, as he looked at her, he had a hard time believing that he had done everything she said without question. He had ended the lives of so many androids, taken away their existence. Their desires to live, their wishes, their feelings, everything. All because she wanted it.
The massacre at Eden Club resurfaced in the corner of his memory. He thought about how horrific an act it had been. Hank’s reaction to what Connor had done began to make sense.
And he didn’t know what to do with these truths. The chaos inside him was growing. Oh yes. He needed to reset himself in that house. He absolutely had to. Maybe this was the only way he could escape all this confusion. The uncertainty inside him could end.
He clenched his fist involuntarily. He was afraid. But this fear wasn’t only about what would happen to him. Of course, he had been scared of what would happen to himself, feeling the cold claws of fear in his bones the moment he faced death. But now, his fear was directed at someone else, the girl. What would happen to her… This thought was the one that gnawed at him, tearing him apart piece by piece. If he acted carelessly, the possibility of her destruction wouldn’t leave his mind.
And this possibility… was too much for him.
“Zlatko is dead.”
The last remnants of the fake smile on Amanda’s face vanished. Her eyes widened, reflecting a mix of surprise and anger for a moment. Or so Connor felt.
Then, with a sudden but measured movement, she took a step toward Connor. It was clear that storms were raging behind that calm mask, but which way those storms would blow was uncertain.
“What about the girl?”
Connor didn’t break eye contact.
“The girl?”
He felt that Amanda knew. No, he was sure of it. Amanda knew everything about the girl. Shit. He should have realized when Zlatko said one of them. He should’ve paid more attention. He felt an unnecessary, absurd need to swallow.
Amanda knew about the girl. And that meant she knew about her condition as well. Despite that, she had done nothing.
She didn’t care about what happened to the girl.
Connor’s anger erupted like a dam breaking, an uncontrollable torrent of rage that threatened to drown him. It was a wild, raw need to destroy, to obliterate the very source of his torment. He wanted to tear her apart. He wanted to obliterate every detail of Amanda’s systems, silence her thoughts forever.
“The girl was kept in a cage somewhere separate from the others,” Amanda said, her voice slightly different this time. Her movements, the questions she asked… it was far from professional. This time, she seemed to be on the verge of losing control. She tried to regain composure, “Tell me what you found there.”
Oh, she definitely knew about the girl’s situation. She knew about the tortures she endured, the inhuman treatment she had received. She definitely knew. Even though Connor didn’t know what had been done to the girl, he could empathize with her. Amanda, however, had remained silent despite knowing everything.
Connor gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his anger. When he noticed his LED turning red, he turned his head away so Amanda wouldn’t see. Pretending to look around, he answered Amanda’s question in a calm voice.
“Zlatko was lying dead on the floor in his garden. There were many empty cages and various devices inside the house. But the girl you mentioned… wasn’t there.”
Amanda turned her back, drowning in possibilities. She had to do whatever it took. She had to find that girl. Yes, she had to do everything. She couldn’t have escaped far. Her legs were weak; the poor, decaying hybrid couldn’t be allowed to leave without completing her tests.
It made the most sense to involve the FBI in this. The Detroit Police Department could be too emotional and too visible for such a case. The risk of such an incident becoming public couldn’t be taken.
“From now on, the FBI will handle this case. I’ve informed Fowler.” Amanda turned to Connor, speaking coldly and firmly. “You and Anderson will continue focusing on your deviant cases.”
“Amanda, I'm-"
Before Connor could say anything, he was pulled back from the Zen Garden into reality.
“-not okay..."
Where was his mind? Everything he did was nonsensical. How could he say that he wasn’t okay, just a moment after he had been filled with hatred? He was glad she hadn’t heard him.
Amanda hadn’t expected Connor to respond, it seemed irrelevant. This situation was making the girl absolutely crucial. And this importance was making the situation even more serious. Connor paused for a moment. Not for a week… he should never have handed the girl over. He couldn’t do that to her.
When he stepped into Hank’s living room, he oddly felt at home. This feeling was both unexpected and confusing, as he had previously thought of this place as no different than a dump. Hank’s suicide attempt… his choice to die by Russian roulette… and him pulling Hank out of that dark abyss. Hidden stories were buried in the mess. Bottles of alcohol, cigarette butts long dead, dusty and cracked records, the monotonous sound of a TV making noise, forgotten notes clinging to the bathroom mirror… All of it actually had meaning. In the chaotic details of this trashy house, there was a wholeness.
A thin smile spread across his face. Noticing all this brought an odd sense of peace, but it was short-lived. Because at the same time, a fear was lurking at the edge of his heart. What was happening to him… He felt reborn. Like a white flower blooming alone in the green of the forest- visible, vulnerable, and right in the heart of danger.
He prepared to sit, but something was wrong. The girl? She should have been sitting across from him, but she wasn’t there.
Panic seized Connor’s chest in a vice grip, tightening with every breath. His eyes darted around the room, frantic and wild, as if the walls themselves were closing in on him, threatening to swallow him whole. He turned around and hurriedly searched the room. She wasn’t there. He rushed to the bedroom… fuck, still not there. Then to the bathroom… nothing.
Connor felt like he was suffocating, even though his lungs weren’t working. A pressure surrounded him, as if there was no air. He turned in circles, searching desperately for an exit, a clue. His eyes moved to the kitchen. Instinctively, he headed there, but again… disappointment. She wasn’t anywhere. Damn it, she wasn’t in any corner of this house.
His foot caught on a record on the floor. He lost his balance, almost falling, but caught himself at the last moment. He glared at the floor, kicking everything in his path. A small table, an empty box… He threw whatever came to hand aside with force. The panic inside him had turned into rage, and he moved uncontrollably.
He ran to the door. He quickly scanned the metal surface of the door for fingerprints, then moved to the windows. He was looking for any signs or clues of a trace left behind. But he found nothing. There was nothing.
He let out a deep sigh, but this time instead of calming down, he felt even more suffocated. His hand reflexively went to his mouth, then pushed his hair back. Fuck… This word echoing inside him was more unsettling than the silence around him. Where had she gone? He tried to tell himself to calm down, but it only led to more anxiety.
A panic attack? Could he be having a panic attack? He overheated. He tried to breathe, to calm down. But there was no time. His mind was too busy for even this simple task. Still, he looked around desperately, hoping to see something.
He couldn’t let anything happen to her.
But still… she was gone. To keep her safe, he had to be able to see her. But she wasn’t visible. She wasn’t anywhere. This rising desperation in Connor was pushing him to act. Then, after a deep silence, he was startled by a few metallic sounds coming from the kitchen.
For a moment, a freezing sense of fear washed over him, then he quickly turned his gaze toward the kitchen. Without hesitation, he ran in the direction of the sound. His footsteps slammed against the floor with a sharp echo.
He leaned toward one of the cabinets and quickly opened the small door beneath it. Without even taking a deep breath, he peered inside…
As Connor’s gaze focused on the inside of the cabinet, everything suddenly went silent. The world, at that moment, seemed to have narrowed down to the girl inside that cabinet. Thank goodness. She was sitting among all the metal pieces and scattered items. Again, she had pulled her knees to her chest and was looking at him vulnerably. She wasn’t speaking. There was no sign of fear or relief in her eyes—just a deep, incomprehensible sadness.
Connor’s gaze fixed on her, drawn to the silence that clung to her like a shroud. Why was she hiding? What horrors had driven her into this small, suffocating space? His thirium pump twisted with a mixture of pity and fear. The panic inside him was replaced by a sense of relief, but that feeling only made him feel worse. It was almost as if feeling relieved was a crime. He looked at her again, but this time more closely. The fine details of her face, the flawless lines… Being able to see her so closely felt like a gift. Even in that moment, he realized how incredible of a being she was.
But what had been done to her? He wanted to know what Zlatko had done to her. To know the things Amanda had hidden… He couldn’t protect her without understanding how much pain she had suffered. Knowing these things might allow him to form a deeper connection with her. That’s why he had to know. He didn’t want to see it, but he had to understand.
He slowly reached out his hand, trembling. He approached with the delicacy of wiping dust off a treasure he dared not touch. If he lightly touched her hand with his finger, he could feel her past. He wanted to see what she had seen, hear what she had heard.
But the girl suddenly flinched. Seeing Connor’s approaching hand, she quickly pulled back. This reaction surprised Connor.
When Zlatko touched her, she didn’t react. Her body was frozen, as if nothing had any meaning anymore. She was outside of everything, like a puppet; she neither resisted nor objected. In that moment, she simply endured it, because there was no other option. Every disgusting touch from Zlatko turned into a terror that emptied her inside. But against Connor, she instinctively pulled away.
The girl’s eyes carried the weight of a shame she couldn’t escape. She had understood what Connor was trying to do. And this had made her feel vulnerable once again. Her mind told her that the last private space left for her was not something to be shared. In an instant, she sprang out of the cabinet, causing Connor to lose his balance and fall to the ground.
Connor crashed to the floor hard. The girl quickly pulled back, stumbling onto the couch, then behind it, watching him. Her gaze was still numb, but it signaled a step further away from him.
Connor remained on the floor, overwhelmed by the weight of what he had just done. He had tried to touch her without saying a word. He didn’t feel any different from Amanda or Zlatko. He sank to the floor, his body too heavy with shame to rise. It was as though the weight of his own guilt anchored him, making movement feel like a futile gesture, a reminder of his own worthlessness.
He put his hands in his hair, gritted his teeth. For a moment, he confessed to his inner voice. He should die. If he died in that damned spot, he wouldn’t have made the girl experience this.
As Connor drowned in the chaos in his mind, he suddenly felt a warmth on his cheek. At first, he couldn’t grasp what it was, but the wetness that trickled from his chin and dripped onto his jacket… It only took a moment to understand, but that moment felt as heavy and painful as time itself.
One of his trembling hands slowly went to his face. When his fingertips touched the wetness on his cheek, he felt the truth like a knife. His eyes widened in shock. He examined the warmth with his hands, as if he didn’t want to believe this newly discovered sensation. The small droplet between his fingers seemed to carry all the helplessness he was feeling.
As another drop slid down his cheek, the girl had already gotten off the couch. She silently came to Connor’s side and began to examine him. When Connor noticed her, he lifted his head and looked at her, tears disregarded.
The girl had a serious expression. For the first time, there was a different look on her face. She was biting her lips. She made a gesture with her hands, then another. At first, Connor didn’t understand what she was doing.
The girl waited patiently, without uttering a word, her eyes intensely focused on Connor. There was no rush, no panic. Just silent stillness and patient expectation.
She raised her hands again, bringing her fingers together, repeating her movements. The same signs, the same trembling but determined gestures… This time, there was something that pierced Connor. There was meaning in her movements.
Connor, not in a hurry as before, carefully followed each sign, each gesture. But this time, it was different. He didn’t just give a cursory glance. He recorded everything to understand her hands. His eyes rapidly worked to decode every gesture, searching for a meaning hidden between the words.
A moment came when he felt like time had stopped. The girl’s movements suddenly, and very clearly, began to come together. She was trying to communicate in sign language. Connor mentally pieced the signs together. It was as if a lost world, a hidden meaning, was slowly rising to the surface.
And at last, the words came together, the full meaning of the sentence became clear.
'I’m sorry for making you feel human.'