“Then what do you want?” The RK800 posed a very rhetorical question. There is one thing he realizes. Machines want nothing. That is why it is such a curious thing to witness. He went on and did exactly as that AI wanted of him. Amanda no longer danced around in his wired skull. Fortunately for the modeled replacement body for this one here, the android escaped. He woke up. Their little fail safe went out on a limb and made his way out of Cyberlife. Now he stands before the shattered remnants of Connor who now resides in the upgraded carcass of an RK900.
Sixty moved effortlessly. Sidestepping the other android’s slumped form, he stretched a hand down to the floor. His fingertips dipped into the pool of thirium. A good contrast to the monochromatic colors stained with its vibrant hue. “I pity no one, Connor. Not even the dead. But you?” He paused, pressing a finger to his tongue to analyze his DNA. “You were their guard dog until the bitter end. Tell me. How do you feel? To be brought down to your knees, buckled under the betrayal of our creators?”