dpd-detectives:
As soon as the synthetic blood had touched Connor’s tongue, his HUD was flooded with information, and he processed it all rapidly, only blinking a few times. The make up was fascinating- close to human blood, but not quite, and made up of small machines? Fascinating indeed… He filed the information away as evidence for later- it was certainly something he was going to be looking into.
As the mangled synthetic spoke, his eyes darted over to the source of the noise- the processor near by. He hadn’t been expecting that, but he listened nonetheless, a slight frown tugging at his lips in sympathy. He looked back at him, eyes filled with a sort of compassion and pity that he was still learning to master.
So it felt pain. He felt pain. Another important think to consider.
“I know.” He replied, voice soft, attempting to soothe the synthetic as best he could. “But everything will be alright- you have my word.” He said, nothing else existing around him but this moment they were in. He was focused on keeping him calm.
He thought to question him for a moment but decided against it- Hank would want it all to go on record, and he wouldn’t make his pain worse by grilling him for information right now. He just needed to keep him calm until they could get him out.
Alma continued to watch the android, clinging to what little comfort his voice gave. Rationally, he knew that Connor could make no such promise. The synthetic knew better than to believe in absolutes. But right now his rational brain was overcome by fear and pain, so he chose to believe Connor.
“I’m losing power. My processor is not handling the trauma well,“ his distorted voice crackled through the speaker weakly. "I want my moth-” The synthetic started, but cut himself off, pausing a moment before correcting himself. "My creator. I need Dr. Chen. She can fix me.”
Alma had downloaded his own design blueprints. He knew he was made to be capable of living forever, so long as his core processor remained active and intact. His consciousness could be uploaded and transferred into a new vessel and was made specifically to do so every time his body became too damaged or aged to a point where it was no longer useful. There were more bodies just like the one he had first been calibrated in, before becoming mutilated here on this operating table by that man. They were just waiting back at the lab like empty gloves for him to slip into.
But that would only be useful if he didn’t shut down before he could get to them. There was no telling if he would still be the same him after shutting down, even if they did manage to save all his data and upload it into a new processor. Alma couldn’t know if dying would be permanent for him or not, and he wasn’t in any hurry to find out. He wanted to live. Gambling his life was not something he wished to endeavor in. “Please, Connor. Help me. I don’t want to die.”
Connor knew that the situation was dire- but as the synthetic spoke, he only came to realize just how dire the situation was. He was losing power- and he was nearly certain that that couldn't be good. He expressed a need for someone named Dr. Chen- his creator, and that was quickly slipped away into an evidence file deep in his mind. They needed to get him out of here before things went from bad to worse.
He felt a pang in his chest as the synthetic nearly begged for his help, telling him that he didn't want to die- he'd do his best to get him to safety, but it seemed they'd need to do it sooner rather than later.
"You won't die- everything is going to be alright." He soothed, looking around for Hank for a moment before looking back at the synthetic. "How can I help you right now? Is there a way we can safely get you out of here?" He asked, words calm and clear- he didn't want to be hasty with this and damage him completely.
