I was doing my job. Just like you used to do yours, before everything changed.
[Daniel strikes out with every syllable, every painfully etched memory— not truly pained, considering the differences between human synaptic response and those of a machine built from blueprints and attractive subservience— but Connor doesn't doubt Daniel feels it regardless. An ache. Or agony.
Or helplessness.
He stretches his neck out long, peering down into the split hollow of Daniel's chest as he begins to realign the misplaced diaphragm sagging dejectedly against metal ribs.]
no subject
[Daniel strikes out with every syllable, every painfully etched memory— not truly pained, considering the differences between human synaptic response and those of a machine built from blueprints and attractive subservience— but Connor doesn't doubt Daniel feels it regardless. An ache. Or agony.
Or helplessness.
He stretches his neck out long, peering down into the split hollow of Daniel's chest as he begins to realign the misplaced diaphragm sagging dejectedly against metal ribs.]
Do you resent me for that?