I still remember the thunderous echo of my footsteps through the long deserted hall, trying to find my way out of that facility. The place was deserted apart from broken machines and leftover synthetic parts lying about. It was eerily dark. God, I hate the dark. I was fortunate that the synthetic had night vision, allowing me to keep a shred of my sanity. Still, I always had the creeping sensation that some boogie man would claw out of the dark.

I couldn't tell you how long I was down there, wading through puddles and darkness for a shred of light. I don't think I had ever felt so miserable and defeated then I did in that deserted facility. I'm surprised I didn't drive myself mad from hopelessness, but I guess the Maker had different plans for me.

At last, I discovered an exit way with simply a ladder and a manhole cover. I had never been so overjoyed to see the smog-filled sky until prying open the cover and crawling onto damp muddy earth. I would've wept if possible, but synthetics don't cry.

As I crumpled onto the muddy earth, I lifted my head to see the dark rain-filled clouds. I no longer had a sense of touch, but the heavy pouring rain still made me flinch. Skyscrapers covered the view,  and once I took in the rest of my surroundings, I remember an odd sensation run throughout my fake body. I don't know how to describe it, but it felt like... meekness.

I recognized the area as a section of the Lower City- the synthetic slums. I could see the towering, vast electric fence off in the distance. With my newly acquired enhanced vision, I could spy large gray tents set up within walking distance, rising smoke marking its location. I could see individuals mirroring my embodiment marching out and around the area.

I recalled from previous visits that the tents signified the base camp for overseers and worker synthetics. Despite the desperation I felt to draw close to other individuals after the unmeasurable time in isolation, I hesitated as I remembered the contents of the letter.

Keep your head down and stay out of sight of overseers.

Most citizens never hear of the overseers unless they've worked or spoken with synthetics been. The overseers, quite simply, oversaw the synthetics and their operations. They are heavily trained in the case event of an uprising. It was also their duty to apprehend and dismantle rogue droids. If the droid before me was labeled as a rouge, finding this 'Pax' would be much more challenging than I imagined.

But my thoughts of planning were immediately interrupted as I heard a different sound through the pounding rain and distant shouts. Sliding foot falls squelching through the mud reached my ears. I perked up at once and my head swiveled around before discerning two figures marching over the muddy mound of earth that covered the abandoned facility below.

I swear I remember a chill running through my electric wires as I recognized the figures as two droid collaborators. Collaborator droids do not have unique physical characteristics like droids such as my identity thief. They had waxy dull skin and lacked hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes. Their eyes were pure black, like something that walked out of one's deepest and darkest fears. The rest of their body was covered in heavy, black mechanized armor. What scared me most, however, was that they were armed with charged stun rifles. It was their job to hunt down rouge workers and are ruthless in their methods. I remember the frantic recollection of the letter running through my head.

Androids who act against the norm will be deactivated and dismantled.

I remember thinking frantically, Maybe they didn't see me, maybe I can still getaway.

I scrambled to reopen the manhole that led to the abandoned facility but just as I had raised the lid, a grating robotic voice bleated, "STOP WHERE YOU ARE. STATE YOUR PURPOSE AND IDENTIFICATION."

The lid slowly closed with a small clatter. If I had a heart at that moment it would've been drumming up a storm in my ears. The two collaborator droids had stopped right over my shoulder, rifles aimed at the back of my head. My head was buzzing to think of a convincing lie. I wasn't even sure if I could get away with lying to collaborators.

It wasn't until one droid took a jab at my head with the muzzle of the gun that I finally blurted in the stranger's monotonic voice, "I was instructed to collect parts that could be used for repairs. I... I was just about to start."

"IDENTIFICATION."

"I..." I hesitated, temporarily forgetting the name listed in the letter. "KOL 219."

One droid raised it's arm and began typing the name on the screen on its wrist. It was difficult to keep a straight face when all I felt was the urge to run and hide. I knew I wouldn't have gone far before being shot down, but the urge to run to anywhere but there was almost overwhelming.

The next thing I knew, one of the droids grasped my arm and slammed me into the mud. There was no pain, but the shock and alarm still hit me like a speeder. I caught a glimpse of one droid changing the setting on its weapon and it finally dawned on me.

Don't let anyone scan your code or your story will fall apart.

Hoping that I still had the android's enhanced strength, I threw my head back and smashed it against the waxy face of the crouching droid. Right on impact, my vision flickered and shorted out, throwing me into horrifying darkness. The collaborators were much more powerful than I, and I could only struggle against their grip as I heard the steady tone of a scan being performed.

"IDENTIFICATION AND BAR CODE DO NOT MATCH," the droid corrected as the scanner moved away from my face. "IDENTIFICATION: LEX 001. STATUS: ROGUE. ACTIVE WARRANT FOR ARREST."

My horror overwhelmed my judgment and immediately began to plead, "You're making a mistake! I'm not him, my real name is-"

One of the droids brought the butt of the gun down on my left temple. I was fortunate it only left a dent and didn't cause serious damage to my 'brain'. Yet I admittedly yelped with fear, greatly intimidated by the nightmarish synthetics. There was simply no reasoning with them and I couldn't fight back without my sight. There was nothing I could do that wouldn't end with deactivation, leaving me with the one option of being dragged away like prey.