[i feel bad for updating twice and neither of them were actual chapters to the storyline??? So here it is. I swear I'll hold up to the 'no updating daily' thing I just feel rlly bad for hyping it up and leaving u all so here take it]

The quarter flicked between its hand effortlessly. It rolled down its knuckles, bounced across its fingers to the rhythmic clank of the elevator climbing up slowly to the top floor. With each passing second, possibilities of reasonings behind the deviant's behavior piled up like car wreck, each scenario carving out an awful path for the future of the city's technological advancement.

With the final ding, the doors slid open to the apartment on the top floor of the building. It hadn't anticipated so many members of the police squadron to be lined up with the SWAT team, but they were clustered together around various spots of the room. It could see around the corner, gathering as much information as it could about the shattered items on the ground and crimson stains on the walls.

A pair of officers turned in front of it, escorting a frantic woman covered in blood. Her expression shifted to excitement and relief upon seeing the familiar jacket of one of the few specially trained officers. She nearly collapsed while enveloping it in a loose hug. "God bless you," she sighed and clutched the fabric tightly, "thank you for—"

But she opened her eyes and her words fell. Her gaze locked on the white set of numbers above the breast pocket, the blue cuff around its right arm, and the circular blue LED sensor embedded above its left temple.

The woman scurried back and fell to her knees, disgusted, upset, and confused. "Y-you can't send that thing," she whispered, "why won't you send a real person?! Send it back, send it back—"

The officer to her right grabbed her arm and tugged her to her feet. "Ma'am, it's the best option we have as of—"

"I don't care! You can't send a fucking android, send a real person! Don't let it touch my daughter, don't let it anywhere near her!"

"Ma'am—"

"One of them tore apart my family, I'm not letting another one do the same! Send it back, I said don't let it touch her! I'd rather her die than have that thing be anywhere near my daughter!" The pair dragged her off despite her struggling. As the elevator doors shut, it listened to the woman angrily holler for it to leave and never return.

RK-800 scanned the entry hallway and what it could see of the rest of the apartment. It picked up a damaged picture frame, displaying the woman that had been so upset a few second earlier. Her name was Sandy Trudent, posing happily in the past with her daughter Sarah and her husband John. Red words ticked into existence under John's profile in its vision. Deceased.

It set the frame down and continued through the crime scene, taking note of the blood on the walls and destruction being examined by others. That wasn't its mission, unless it came down to needing to collect more information.

Captain Rodgers stood anxiously at a small setup of computers, hunched over the screens beside her partner.

"Caption Rodgers, I'm Brendon. I'm the android sent by CyberLife."

She didn't bother to turn around and greet it properly. "It's on the edge of the balcony," she pointed to her left, over to where a crowd of officers had circled around, "we would've taken it down hours ago, but if it goes down then she does too. It's already taken out four of my men."

Brendon took only a few seconds to sort the information. "Do you know the deviant's name?"

"Does it matter? You were sent here to deal with it, so go deal with it."

"It's best if I wait to do so, Captain Rodgers. In order to properly assess the situation, I need to gather as much information I can as to prevent any further casualties. The probability of the deviant's arrest without an increase in fatalities is 48%. Assuming the suspect is armed, the possibility of another man down is 52%."

Captain Rodgers sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't give a shit. Take care of it. The only thing that matters right now is saving that girl, nothing else."

Brendon pushed on. "Do you know if the deviant has been behaving strangely before this?"

She slammed her open palm on the table, her partner jumping instead of the android. "I don't know, I don't fucking care. You were sent to rescue this little girl and put an end to this. Either you do that, or I'll send you right back to CyberLife to have you deactivated for disobedience."

The anger and stress in her voice lowered the success rate to 46%. The lack of information surrounding the situation was worrying. After she stormed off, Brendon took a full scan of the scene.

First, it landed on the sofa. The lifeless body of John Trudent sat slumped back on the cushions. His eyes were open, a bullet buried between them. Following another scan, Brendon discovered 4 more shots in his torso. The deviant didn't want to leave John with a high rate of survival, no matter the fatal damage to the head.

Next, it landed on an imperfection in the tile flooring. The slight dent in the material had pooled together a familiar blue liquid. Brendon crouched down and dipped his fingers in the substance, and a quick taste proved the most likely option to be correct. It was Thirium, better known as blue blood, the equivalent of blood in humans for androids. The probability rose to 56%; If the deviant was injured, it may be easier to talk it down from causing any further harm for medical attention instead.

On the opposite end of the couch, it found a magazine from CyberLife, modeling the most recent versions of the most popular androids. Again, the percentage grew to 67%

Underneath the table, the butt of a handgun urged Brendon to analyze it. The fingerprints on the gun belonged to John Trudent. Over half of the 6 bullets sat in the chamber. The deviant must have possession of another firearm. It discreetly slipped the gun into the inside pocket of its jacket.

Brendon squeezed through a cluster of SWAT team members into a bedroom, the paper sign on the door indicating it to be Sarah Trudent's. The bed was neatly made and the books in her bookcase were organized cleanly. However, the work desk had been overturned and the items sitting upon it had been scattered across the floor. The scene was untouched.

It picked up a thin tablet from beside the desk chair, scanning its handprint on the screen for a quick and easy entry. The photo gallery was already opened, displaying the cover picture of a video. It quickly recognized the pair as Sarah and the family's android, HF-160, a household friendly android they referred to as Danny.

Brendon sifted through the limited knowledge he'd been provided with about the HF-160 model, specifically searching for any history of malfunctions in others of the same batch. The misbehavior of that android edition was nonexistent, labeling Danny as an isolated case. The whole line of HF-160 had the possibility of deactivation if the issue wasn't pinpointed or solved.

It pressed play on the video and watched. Sarah smiled broadly and leaned against Danny's shoulder, toying with the blue cuff on its right arm. "This is Danny! He's my best best friend, and we do everything together! He helps me with my homework and plays with me while Mom and Dad are working—"

Brendon set the tablet down. The probability had shot up to 76%. The android and Sarah were close friends, it would never be able to hurt her if emotions had truly overridden its program. Even in past reports of deviancy, the suspect never caused any harm to the one that provided the most care.

Another gunshot outside pulled Brendon away from any further investigating in Sarah Trudent's bedroom. Captain Rodgers was right, there was little time left, and any actions needed to be taken quickly.

It rushed outside into the living room and followed the breeze to the balcony entrance, shoving carefully through armed guards to face Danny. The night sky had been illuminated by news station and police helicopters, all circling for a shot of the deviant. It stood at the edge of the balcony, inches away from falling backwards. Sarah Trudent clawed helplessly at its arm, struggling to break free from the barrel of the gun aimed at her temple.

"HF-160! My name is Brendon. I'm the android sent from CyberLife. I'm here to h—"

Danny quickly moved the gun to point at Brendon. Blue blood streaked its face and other body parts, most likely from bullets shot from the choppers above. "Don't come any closer or I'll shoot, I'll do it!"

Brendon put its hands up, and inched forward slowly. "I'm here to help, Danny. I know you're frustrated and upset, but you have to stop this. She did nothing wrong."

"I thought I was part of the family," it wailed and waved the weapon back to Sarah Trudent, "but they lied to me! I never mattered to any of them, I was just another stupid android!"

It clicked in Brendon's system why the CyberLife magazine was in the apartment. "They were going to replace you."

Danny nodded. Its hand shook, either due to stress or the dropping temperature. "I don't want to be deactivated."

"You won't," Brendon filled the empty promise, "if you stop this now, I promise you won't be hurt. Not while I'm here."

For a moment, Danny seemed to relax and comply to the compromise. The gun lowered ever so slightly, and the percentage ticked to 84% the closer Brendon got to them. "Don't take another step," the barrel steadied, "or I'll jump. I swear, I swear to god, I'll do it."

It had no choice but to halt any movement. It could only rely on the bystanders below to save Sarah Trudent if worst came to worst.

"D-do you have a weapon?"

"Yes." There was no point in lying. It would only upset it further.

Danny turned it to Brendon again. "Drop it."

Brendon pulled the gun from the jacket pocket carefully and dropped it to the side, just out of reach. "Put her down. Let's talk about this, nobody else has to die tonight Danny. I know you're upset, but she did nothing wrong."

Danny's sensor blinked from red into the normal blue. Its grip loosened slightly and Sarah's sneakers touched the balcony, but she couldn't wiggle away just yet. "You know how this ends. Not even you can talk me out from doing this, you should've calculated that by now."

It was right. There was still a 16% chance for the body count to definitively rise. "Just let her go. I just want to know—"

"Know what?! Know what happened to the friendly household android? I'll tell you," it spat, the gun dropped to its side with its finger still on the trigger, "you don't know how it feels to be unwanted, to be thrown out like a piece of plastic. I thought they loved me, but it turns out I'm nothing to them and I had been nothing for the last 3 years. I spent countless hours doing their work so they wouldn't have to leave their bed. They left their daughter with a robot instead of giving her a real human to play with, they gave her a replaceable hunk of garbage they could throw out as soon as the next best model hit the shelves. If I'm going out, I'm taking them with me."

Danny tossed the gun to the ground, clutched Sarah Trudent to its chest, and leaned back into emptiness. Brendon did the only thing that made logical sense. It rushed forward, shoved Sarah from the deviant's grip and traded places with her. It hoped Captain Rodgers would be proud — Sarah had been saved, and the only casualties weren't human lives. Just replaceable androids.

RK-800 had completed the mission.