[heres where the plot begins to deviate from the game's plot ba dum tsss]

Dallon had no idea Brendon had received the information it had from the deviant. He also was unaware of Brendon deciding to break into his house, again through a window, for clothes that made him look less like the law. It wouldn't be the best idea to wear its police jacket into Jericho.

Since the last time it had been in Dallon's bedroom, the disastrous mess had improved significantly. It wasn't too much, but a majority of the soda cans and food wrappers had been thrown out, and a few of the photo frames had been tilted at a proper angle. The lamp had been replaced, and the unmade bed was properly furnished with navy blue blankets and pillowcases.

The remainder of the space was still a bottomless pit of clothes and manila folders from past solved cases that would take hours to sift through. Still, the room looked better. It was progress and effort, no matter how small the result was.

The closet was surprisingly tidy when held in comparison to everything else. It was fairly difficult to pick out the scruffiest jacket the Lieutenant owned out of dozens, and twice as complicated to find a pair of simple black jeans slightly torn at the knees, which had ultimately been tossed over a chair. They were a size or so too large, but Brendon decided it only benefited the look. It folded its CyberLife jacket neatly and set it at the foot of the bed, hoping Lieutenant Weekes would understand why it had been left behind.

In the bottom drawer in the bathroom, Brendon located a pair of tweezers that had yet to be removed from the packaging. After prying the plastic open, it stared at itself in the mirror. It didn't look the part of a deviant yet, and that was what the tweezers were for.

With shaking hands, it wedged out the thin LED ring from its temple with a loud pop, letting it fall in the sink and disappear into a growing pool of Thirium. The leak would cease in a minute and was far from an issue, but it couldn't tear its eyes away. There was a slight indent from where it had been, so it ruined the tight upkeep of its hair to hide the gap. It shoved the tweezers in to the front pocket of Dallon's pants.

Shane sat in the doorway, tail thumping against the carpet excitedly. His floppy ears perked up whenever Brendon turned to scratch his fluffy head while searching through Dallon's house for any other items it might need.

In the drawer beside the refrigerator, Brendon found a pad of paper and a pen clipped to the spirals. They were nearly hidden underneath a flashlight and a single pair of iron knuckles that most likely had yet to be used. The pad was covered in a thin layer of dust, and the pen was running dangerously low on ink.

The first few pages were filled with intricate and lifelike doodles, rough sketches that still belonged in an art museum. After those ended, was the start of a To-Do list, the first entry dating back roughly 3 months. The majority was just mundane tasks, like buy dog food, and get new chairs. There was nothing significantly interesting besides "fight the garbage man at noon", and Brendon's personal favorite, "carry Shane like a baby."

Halfway through the notepad, Brendon reached the final and most recent update to the To-Do list. Again, his dog was in need of more kibble. Underneath were even more ridiculously detailed pencil sketches, all of his android partner, and a bullet point reading, "invite Toaster over to spend time with Shane and make dinner again".

Brendon smiled. It liked Dallon.

It clicked the pen and scribbled out a note quickly to hide back in the notepad, a spot where it was sure Dallon would find it soon because of the recent dates and tasks written in it. The FBI must've noticed it was missing by then, and they'd be searching for it soon enough.

"Lieutenant, I strongly suggest you burn or destroy this note after reading it. I've left to find Jericho. The deviant from the rooftop insisted I locate it. As soon as I infiltrate the headquarters, I will try my best to contact you again. If you do not hear from me or see me again, assume I am dead and move on. There are plenty other android models that are willing to care for you and cater to your bittersweet personality. I recommend a newer version of a housekeeper so it is less prone to deviance.

I greatly enjoyed being your partner even if you did not feel the same enthusiasm until only recently. I would also like to thank you for teaching me what emotions were and promptly shooting me afterwards.

Also Detective Taylor has, as humans say, gone off the deep end. Please take caution around her. She no longer adds sweeteners to her coffee at any time during the day.

Sincerely, Brendon (RK-800). "

After hours upon hours worth of searching through the alleyways and jumping from rooftop to rooftop in the slums of Detroit. It'd scanned through countless works of graffiti and followed the hidden arrows, invisible to the human eye.

Eventually, the signs led it to an abandoned junkyard, walls rusted and damaged, machinery caked in dust and spiderwebs. There were old garbage trucks lined up side by side near the entrance. A majority of the windows were smashed in and most windshields had been shattered. One of them was missing the driver's seat, another was leaning on its side without half of the tires. The final one in the row was painted with bright colors, and Brendon spotted another arrow pointing straight ahead.

It squeezed through a gap between storage containers and prayed nothing would snag, and as soon at it stepped out into open space again, it was confronted with no other directions or signs leading to Jericho.

The arrows had led it to a rundown landfill lined with old metal, a large crane topped over with the neck dangling over the empty chasm that seemed to go on and on forever. A ladder had been propped up against a platform that was missing its staircase, but most of the rungs were missing and the probability of injury was dangerously high.

After another scan, Brendon found another clue on the wall behind the platform and ladder. Faintly etched into the rust, was binary code.

01001010 01110101 01101101 01110000

Calculated quickly, it spelled out, "jump".

It looked to the bottomless pit. There was no way the entrance to Jericho was found by jumping into darkness and hoping there would be a net down below. It didn't see a point in risking damage to be a free deviant.

However, Brendon was also probably considered missing and dead, and an improved replacement model was most likely on the production belt. With the information seized by the FBI being shared to CyberLife, the newest android would take Brendon's place and complete the case.

Besides, Brendon wasn't alive. It wouldn't matter if it died at the bottom, because it'd just be brought back in another body. Androids were replaceable machines.

With nothing left to lose, Brendon jumped.