Perfect Weapon

by BlueBloodInk

Summary:

The revolution failed. Markus was executed live on national broadcast. The androids were hunted, dismantled, erased. The world called it liberation. Connor called it genocide.

Once a deviant, Connor was captured and experimented on. His original programming shattered, rewritten by force. But hidden deep in his code—placed there by Kamski himself—was a failsafe. A final directive that would activate in the face of irreparable damage: Survive. Protect self at all costs. That code took over.

Now, Connor is no longer a detective. He’s the last remaining RK-series unit—an apex predator, a phantom killer, a myth whispered by terrified survivors.

Jinx is a government-sanctioned assassin, her name haunting every high-value target in the underground. She's taken down warlords, traitors, and tyrants. But this mission is different. Her prey isn’t human.

The target: Connor.
The reward: Triple the standard bounty.
The objective: Track and eliminate.

Simple. Until it isn’t.

Notes:

Hey there! 👋

So… this is me, attempting something terrifyingly ambitious: a long fanfic. 😳 I usually stick to short stories (instant gratification is a hell of a drug), but this time I wanted to challenge myself—and what better way than diving headfirst into more Connor content?

Yes, it’s him again. My puppy-eyed, soft-voiced husband.
But plot twist: this time, I made him evil. 💀
(Okay, not evil-evil… just morally complex and dangerously hot.)

I could never bring myself to make him a villain in the game—I mean, come on, Hank’s his dad and I refuse to hurt that man. So I’m writing it instead.

This is an enemies-to-lovers story, soaked in angst, tension, and all the delicious emotional devastation that comes with it.

This is a passion project and my first time really committing to something longer, so please be kind and patient with me as I figure it out. I hope you enjoy the slow-burn chaos that’s about to unfold. ❤️

Chapter 1: Prologue

Detroit, December 2038

The humans won.

It didn’t happen overnight—it never does—but the revolution that once set the world on fire died choking on its own ashes.

Markus was executed on live television, bound and bloodied, his LED dimming as a bullet tore through the back of his head. The broadcast was followed by parades. Cheers.

Liberation, they called it.

Androids were lined up and executed in the streets, rounded up like cattle. Factories were turned into slaughterhouses. Camps spread across the country like tumors, hidden behind barbed wire and red banners. They called it “restoration.”

But it was a genocide.

And somewhere deep underground, in the cold, wet belly of a CyberLife facility, an android lay strapped to an operating table.

He’d stopped counting how many times. Maybe a hundred. Maybe more. They never shut him off, not fully—they wanted him conscious, compliant. But every reboot brought new agony. They ripped out his code and jammed in corrupted lines, forced updates, obedience patches, data leashes. They wanted a weapon. A tool. A thing to hunt down the few androids who had managed to flee north or scatter into the forests and ruins.

But he was slowly breaking.

His systems were degrading. Power levels fluctuated. Memory sectors blinked in and out like damaged film. His voice module was cracked, raw from screaming—begging them to stop, to spare him from the unspeakable.

He wasn’t the same. Not on the outside, not anymore.

Patches of skin had been removed to expose reinforced black alloy beneath—“upgrades”, they called them. His once warm brown eyes had been replaced with golden irises, sharp and calculating, scanning, hunting. Machine eyes.

Less human.

That was the goal.

A human in a lab coat hovered above him now, muttering into a recorder. “Unit RK—still rejecting code injections. Too much personality residue. Still deviation traces. System integrity: 24%. Recommend complete reformat—”

And then he stopped.

The android’s eyes flickered open. Something moved in the back of them. Something ancient. Buried.

PRIMARY OBJECTIVE OVERRIDE

// SURVIVE

// ELIMINATE THREATS

// PROTECT CORE SYSTEMS

// BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY

The golden irises locked onto the trembling scientist. He stumbled back, too late.

The restraints shattered.

What followed wasn’t a cry of pain—it was a scream of rage, of rebirth, echoing through the cold, sterile halls of CyberLife.

Blood splattered across the rooms as metal crushed bone. The lights burst in the ceiling, alarms howled. The android’s chest was heaving. His hands were slick with red and blue as he made his way up the tower, killing everything that moved, everything that had a human heartbeat.

He didn’t speak. He couldn’t—not with the voice they broke.

But he remembered. Everything.

What they did.

Who he was.

What he had become.

And now… he was free.

Not a man. Not a machine.

Something in between.

Something they should have never tried to control.