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Disclaimer: the characters are the exclusive property of Quantic Dream and come from the video game Detroit: become human

The wolves's anger

"... Still without news from the creator of androids. Police are asking anyone with information about Elijah Kamski's worrying disappearance to contact them as soon as possible. As a reminder, Mr. Kamski's villa was found completely empty by the agents of Cyberlife came to recover the old models of androids that the founder of the company had in his possession. According to our informations, two of the three RT600 had been disabled by their owner, which is currently not found. No track has been set aside so far as ... »

With an annoyed sigh, Gavin turned off the radio. He preferred to stay focused on his strange passenger rather than being distracted by the news. The young inspector kept looking worriedly at the android sitting on the front seat of his vehicle. He didn't trust Connor. He had never felt the slightest empathy for this machine so formal, so clean on it, so perfect. Gavin Reed didn't like perfection. This abstract notion tended to standardize things in subjective standards that made everyone unhappy because they were inaccessible. He widely preferred all those little faults that made a living being someone unique. Perfection was an idiotic ideal. It was good for an Android sent by Cyberlife. An angel face, a heart of stone, and the most fake smile of all Detroit. Except that night... that night Connor didn't smile. And it made it a little less perfect.

The young inspector never ceased to wonder about his own actions. Why had he taken it in his car? Why had he been so oblivious as to jeopardize his precious career during his little staging with Officer Anderson? Why had he risked so much more by coming back for it two hours after the police left the crime scene? He was still wondering. And Connor was asking himself exactly the same questions, while on his temple, an infernal ring shone faintly with a reddish glow. Gavin stammered at the sight of the circle that was spinning stubbornly:

"Shit ! Put off your damn cap! In the night we only see that! "

He pointed at the Android's LED with a scornful gesture. Not without glancing at him with a mute hatred, Connor silently obeyed. And without a smile. They drove a few more minutes like that, before Reed spoke mockingly.

"And that thing here, on your head, it's normal that it's still red? Are you so afraid about me, tin can?"

Connor looked away at the passenger window of the vehicle. The parade of street lamps in the city while the vehicle continued its wandering through the night was sadly echoing the artificial glow that blinked stubbornly on the face of the android. For a moment Reed thought the machine wouldn't answer him. But the dragging voice of the RK800 rose, almost dreamy.

"It's been like this for ... for a few months. I can't stabilize it. "

Months ... it was not worth saying more. The explosion that had taken away thousands of little identical diodes had left behind a sad reddish glow, angry, stubbornly hammering on the temple of his owner his secret rancor and his deep torment. A last flame of revolt for the castaways of Jericho. And the irony of fate had wanted that the deviants hunter was the one who mourned it, like a brand with a hot iron that would scream at him to never forget his mistakes, and those of men. Reed stared at the android for a moment. He looked almost tired. He didn't even look at him. He persisted in searching outside for an imaginary trace of that illusory freedom he had dreamed of. He seemed so calm, in appearance, like that black and silent night.

Connor doesn't say a word. He couldn't do it anymore. He felt exhausted, not physically, his perfect mechanics didn't know exhaustion. But his mind was used to the very depths of his bio-components. The hatred and anguish of the last few months had gnawed at him like a deadly rust, leading him to fight every second against the violence of the deviance that lay dormant in him. He would never admit it to Reed, but the police inspector was partly right. In a way, he was actually afraid of him. After all, he was human. And the machine knew only too well what this specie was able to do under its weak airs and its good morals. He had seen them at work. And he had witnessed their ruthless anger. So yes, Connor was scared. He was afraid of Reed. He was afraid of Hank. He was afraid of humans. At least as much as he hated them.

Again, a tense silence settled between the two men. The RK800 seemed frozen, his elbow resting on the edge of the door, his head resting on his stubborn right fist, as if he had to fight against an inaccessible enemy at any moment. But no one can hit an emotion. The ferocious rage he was feeling was mocking his clenched hand and his dead smile. As good as he was, she laughed at his sophisticated software, his analytical gadgets and superhuman agility. She had nothing to fear from all that. She fed on her deviance, and his madness that had been his burning desire to exist. Why didn't he stay in his right place? Why couldn't he just follow orders? The result would have been the same, but at least he wouldn't have had to suffer. They would have just replaced him. His mission would have been accomplished. He would never have known the warmth of Hank's friendly embrace, the sweetness of a home like Jericho, and that cursed hope that hid in his shadow the insolent specter of disillusionment. There can't be dreams in the world of men. They are too obstinate to reduce them to the mere illusion that a green banknote can buy them all their hopes. Yet, before, they had been different, right? They had also revolted ... But now, they seemed not to understand this insatiable need that the Android people had to believe, to free themselves and to live. How he hated humans!

"Why, Reed? "

The inspector didn't watch the road for half a second to stare at the android with a questioning look. But he still didn't seem to see him. He wasn't even sure the machine really spoke to him. Connor continued to lost his eyes in the night shadows relentlessly, as a fine rain began to fall, escaping in thousands of ephemeral silver snakes running on the dirty glass of the car.

"Why do you help me? "

The human breathed a long sigh, as if he fearing this question from the beginning.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Connor ... The Cyberlife's most powerful machine. Bullshit ! If you knew how I couldn't stand you! I promise you that I was already contain myself in the police station, and that I still hold on. You have no idea how much I hate all that you embody ... I wanted to take you apart myself, piece by piece. So calm, so dead, so perfect. A real war machine,aren't you, Bastard? "

Connor didn't even react to the insult. He didn't even pay attention to the provocation of the young man. Once again, Reed sighed wearily. Then, in a voice astonished at the character he was, he contented with replying:

"I hate machines. I really hate them. But I ... I'm not the one you think. Maybe I'm a bastard for you, but shit, I'm also a cop. I can not stand injustice. And these deviants, you see ... they were fucking alive ... It took me a long time to understand, but they had something you didn't have. And I hated seeing you at work. It looked like a fool hunting dog stalking his prey relentlessly to bring it back to her masters, wagging it tail meanwhile it victim was still bleeding. I wanted so much to put that damn buller in your stupid head.. "

Connor interrupted the policeman, bursting into a cold, terribly false laugh before finally glancing at the inspector with a glacial glare. Reed had already seen this expression on the RK800. The same it had used while he was mistreating the Carlos Ortiz's deviant, in the interrogation room. Except that this time, it was tinged with a real rage, ready to explode at any time, even if for that it had to take everything in its path, both the existence of the machine that his own life. Connor was not thinking as calmly as the excellent hound he had been before. The hound had been beaten and delivered to itself in the forest. He was wild again. He had become a wolf again.

"Of course Reed, you seemed to love deviants so much ! At point of being ready to push the Carlos Ortiz's devant to self-destruction, not without having first kindly proposed to beat him in order to make him confess! And I was thinking, what about the scamp investigation in front of the body of a tracy in a night club and your attempt to kill me into the evidence room? No, for sure, what an irrefutable demonstration of humanity, Reed! A real saint! "

The steering wheel that the human gave surprised a fraction of a second the android. Without a word, Reed had just parked on the side. He turned to Connor before spitting at him:

"Shut up, you don't even know what you're talking about! Having a trendy processor, a superior intelligence and two or three stupid little gadgets, don't gives you the right to judge everyone from your pedestal! But calm down, bastard, you're nothing more than a heap of shit sent by Cyberlife to repair their dirty work! You know nothing. You are full of prejudices! You don't even ask yourself the right questions. You analyze, and you don't think. And that's why Jericho sank. Because of your fucking machine pride and your hasty judgments on everything that moves, as long as your damn analyzes match with your theories and your reconstructions! But the world is not so simple, it is not reduced to some proofs and a handful of algorithms. It isn't binary, divided into categories like humans and deviants, good and bad, or the fucking 1 and 0 of your damn program. People are ... complicated. "

The idea of Reed with the slightest notion of empathy seemed as curious to Connor as those of living machines seemed absurd to many humans. But the inspector paid no more attention than that to the moods of the RK. He simply continued with an not contained annoyance:

"I was trying, at least on my level ... I know, it surprises you, pile of scap ? I hate machines, but deviants ... Well, I don't like them, for sure, but I can't tolerate what is inflicted on them, it's not ... fair. So yeah, I helped them as best as I could, and the more I did it, the more I hated those androids who couldn't rebel. It was easy for me to proclaim loudly that I hated you all ... it was almost true. And then, would you looking for a deviant protector into a guy like me, Connor? My bloody temper was a perfect cover. "

The young inspector leaned over Connor, grabbing his pack of cigarettes in the glove box and lighting one. The glowing end of the butt began intermittently echoing the android's faint circle of light, partially hidden beneath a stripped cap. He seemed to find a certain peace in this simple gesture, his animosity toward his traveling companion seeming to evaporate slowly in small swirls of foul smokes. He then resumed, with a annoyed voice, but calmer.

"I never wanted to hurt this android that day in the interrogation room. I ... I just wanted to destroy it. Androids don't feel the pain so I thought ... I thought it was always better for it than to end up like that, disassembled alive on the chains of Cyberlife after being stored like an old rag doll in the evidence room, waiting for you to complete your investigation. I didn't want you to load it. I didn't want it to speak either. I just wanted to turn it off, by any means, before others did it in the worst possible way and take advantage of it to learn about other deviants. It made me ... somehow painful, i suppose."

Reed turned to Connor, calmly, before adding:

"It surprise you, isn't it? Mr. I know everything ? Do you have that in your cheap psychology software, that notion of compassion and mercy? No, I'm sure it didn't even come to your mind. "

Connor didn't say a word. After taking a fresh breath of brown poison, the human resumed the road as if nothing had happened. Then, after a few seconds, he continued his story in a distant voice, as if he remembered with regret every time he had tried to defeat the hound of Cyberlife, without ever succeeding.

"I had already dealt with a deviant before ... during one of the first investigations on the subject, even before you landed at the police station. I had to shoot him down. It had moved me despite myself. But the day of the interrogation day... I couldn't let you do that. I didn't want to help them, but I couldn't agree to permit Cyberlife destroy them until I knew exactly what they were. Androids are terrifying, Connor. They are stronger, smarter, they never get tired, they have no weakness. I am convinced that without this revolution, one day, there would have been no humans anymore. You would have replaced us, little by little. But that fear that I saw in Ortiz's deviant, that anger ... that weakness was ... it was too much alive. Too real, compared to your artificial smile, your rigid step and your politeness. So, I did everything to forestall you. I went to The Eden Club before Hank and you arrived, to be sure you couldn't find anything, but the poor girl was already dead. How could I have known that they were two? And that an another deviant was accompanying her? I tried to serve you a scenario developed quickly with the evidence in my possession, hoping that Hank would return to sink his whiskey in a bar, too happy to have an escape from a night of shit, but no! It seemed that you managed to make him want to exist again ... I have rarely been so relieved as when I knew they had escaped you. I found them, you know? Them, and Rupert, too. I tracked him after your report, to get my hands on him before others ... and little by little, I began to help them despite myself. I thought of doing it reluctantly, but every time a deviant returned to Jericho, this seemingly idyllic place for them, I felt a little less bitter, and a little more peaceful. It had become my red ice, someway. And then, one day, you were relieved of the investigation ... I really thought I had won, you know? "

Connor stared for a moment at the police inspector. What he was learning from him, what he was telling him there, calmly, didn't correspond to what he knew about the impulsive young man he had met in the interrogation room. Yet, in a sense, it was consistent. But never, not a single minute, he had considered the man like this. He had stuck to his apparent nonchalance and his deep hatred of androids. Yes, Gavin Reed hated machines, and paradoxically, that was what drove him to love deviants.

"But you never tried to help me ..."

Gavin burst out laughing as he heard Connor's words, then shook his head, amused, as if that simple idea seemed totally unbelievable and stupid to him.

" You know what ? You're wrong, I was stupid enough to try to do it once. When I learned that you were relieved of the investigation, I told myself that you would surely be disabled. I had a surge of pity. I thought that if you had to show any sign of real life, it would be at that precise moment, in this time of fragility that the announcement of your return to Cyberlife had undoubtedly created. It must have made you an emotional shock, right? Your precious mission failed, and all your perfect little person, condemned to be dismantled for analysis ... I saw you go to the evidence room. I joined you. I really thought I would see it, that spark of doubt in your eyes, that little red flicker on your temple. But no. When I called you, you turned, coldly. Then, without the slightest trace of emotion, you answered me calmly, ironically, as if the idea of ??your own death didn't bother you more than that. And you went through the door to put the evidence in your possession. You didn't have anything alive, nothing. And besides, you made fun of me ! You didn't have the right to take any element of the investigation with you, it was in this damned regulation that you followed by the book ... and on the verge of death, the only thing that worried you was to put away in the evidence room the elements of the investigation that you had in your possession for the next one ... I went down to the basement. I still had some hope, after this little mark of irony, that you were going to let me see something, like a sign or a weakness. But no. You were still the proud asshole of Cyberlife with his broom in his ass buried so deeply that he impaled his conscience. Damn it ! when you confessed to me that you located Jericho ... I understood that I had to kill you, whatever the cost. But even if I was giving everything, you were a machine, and I was a simple human. A machine doesn't fail, I'm right, Connor? "

There was a short silence. Connor recorded these elements. He tilted his head to one side for a second. He wasn't yet deviant, at that time, it was true. But Reed was wrong. He was no longer the machine of Cyberlife. He had begun his transformation. He had became Hank's partner. He had forgotten what he was, to become what an alcoholic and depressive policeman was waiting for. And that day, he was scared, under his face of wax. He had been afraid to die. But only the old cantankerous cop had guessed his fear, so well hidden behind his hazel irises.

"So ... why today is it different? "

The robot asked, planting a look in the young man's eyes where the questions kept fighting with doubt and anger. Reed smiled slightly. A smile almost tender. A bit bitter smile, too. A worn smile.

"From the beginning, you imitated emotions perfectly, Connor. I'd never seen that at a non-deviant machine. In the interrogation room, you looked so angry, and so compassionate ... you could display a disconcerting innocence and the next minute, you track down a prey with an implacable and cruel relentlessness. Damn you made me want to throw up, when you simulated these feelings without even understanding them. It was ... chilling. And Hank seemed to begin to like you and your little fake smiles! You know, it's easy to deceive someone with a candid air and some marks of affection. Whatever one says, all humans want to be loved. And Hank had lost everything ... It just need that to be mislead : a smile, a tender look, a few words ... a real child's play! Basically, love is a fucking lie! But hate, that ... it's a different thing. Hate does not deceive. She does not cheat. We do not simulate it. She is raw, fierce, uncontrollable. She burns more than we feel her, actually. It is a truth that can not be falsified. "

The inspector began to slow down as he approached a gray building, quite low, but whose imposing silhouette was reminiscent of an old industrial building rather than a dwelling. He parked his car in a parking space in the backyard. Then he stopped the engine and remained a fraction of seconds motionless, before returning his attention to the android.

"Tonight, Connor, you hated us. And I know you hate us again. And that, man, it makes you a machine more alive than you've ever been. "

Then, without adding anything more, he got out of the car under the RK800's perplexe look.

***

I wanted to try an experiment by re-reading some scenes of the game from a new angle.. I hope it didn't shock you too much ^^

don't hesitate to leave me your opinion or report me my mistakes ! See you soon !