Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I am Tommy.

Model: TO447

Serial number: #287 463 965

Current occupation: Working for Wilbur Soot at his music shop.

Current status: Functioning properly. No signs of malware.

Check-in complete.

Tommy opened its eyes. It scanned its surroundings, retinas adjusting and pupils dilating quickly as they adjusted to the harsh light. It blinked for a moment, a whirring sound filling its ears. It quickly identified the noise as its fans attempting to cool down its systems, which had begun to slightly overheat. Check-ins like these took a lot of energy, as he had to scan all the inner bits of its software. Alas, they were mandatory, so it had to push through the uncomfortable sense.

It looked over at Wilbur’s personal desk. The first thing it’s synthetic eyes noticed was the book that was laid out across the surface. It was open to pages 58 and 57, and so the cover was unavailable to the eye. With a quick scan of the dialogue written on the page, Tommy quickly identified the book.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane

By Neil Gaiman

Published in 2013, on June 18th

Genre is fantasy fiction

Tommy retracted it’s focus, about to scan the other items when a loud knock on the door interrupted it.

“Oi! Tommy! You aren’t snooping through my stuff again, are you?” a loud voice accused it as the door opened.

“Good morning, Wilbur,” was it's only response. It flinched for a moment as it felt an arm sling around his shoulder, feeling it's right arm collide gently with Wilbur’s side as it was pulled in.

“Stop avoiding the question! Snarky little bastard.” Though the words seemed rude and insensitive, Wilbur’s voice held a playful tone.

“I was only analyzing your material items to get a better sense of you,” Tommy explained.

Wilbur rolled its eyes, patting its shoulder once. “Well, it’s fuckin weird, so stop it!” he jokingly insisted, finally freeing Tommy from his restrictive grasp.

Tommy took a moment to process the information, looking up to meet Wilbur’s eyes. “I apologize for my behavior. I was only trying to-“

Wilbur slapped his hand over the android’s mouth, eyes squinting. “You don’t gotta be so serious about everything. I was just messing with you.” He released his hand, walking towards the door again. “I’m gonna go tune some of the guitars in the back. Could you take over the cash register?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. Knew I could count on you, big man!”

The door shut behind Wilbur, leaving Tommy alone yet again.

I am Ranboo.

Model: RAN800

Serial number: #174 389 569

Current occupation: Deviant hunter, working alongside Philza and BL493, Technoblade, at Detroit City Police Department.

Current status: Problems with memory bank. Check in at CyberLife when possible.

Check-in complete.

Ranboo blinked for a moment, the first thing its multicolored eyes registered being two figures standing in front of him, an android and a human. The android had long pink hair that was pulled into a thick braid, a stern expression on its scar-covered face. After a quick scan, he identified the android as model BL493, otherwise known as Technoblade, yet is commonly referred to as Techno. His eyes flicked over to the human, performing a quick background check. The results labeled the man as Philza Watson, age 33. His current occupation was a policeman at Detroit City Police Department.

Ranboo’s memories began to flood back, recognizing it had been sent to the police department to help investigate in deviancy-related cases. It’s gaze flickered between his two companions, curiosity evident in it’s robotic gaze.

“Is that it?”

Ranboo’s head tilted to the side, confused at the sound of Philza’s words. It took the android a moment to register that the sentence had not been directed at it.

“Yes, that's it. Exactly the model you wanted, correct?” Technoblade replied, looking at Phil out of the corner of his eyes. Philza nodded, looking back at Ranboo. He let out a sigh after a couple moments, standing back so he had enough room to reach out his hand. Ranboo recognized this as a classic human greeting, and so in response, it held out it’s right hand, taking Philza’s palm in it’s own and shaking it gently.

“Greetings, Philza.”

“...Hey.”

“I have come to assist you and Technoblade with the investigation of deviancy-related cases, though I’m sure you’re already aware,” it added with a half-smile.

Philza gave a short nod, returning the smile for a moment. He retracted his arm, letting his hand rest atop Techno’s shoulder.

“Alright, you two. I got a deviant case waiting for us at Brush Street. How about we go check it out, eh?”

The two androids gave a short nod, following close behind Philza as Ranboo prepared itself for it’s first deviant case with his new partners.

I am Tubbo.

Model: TU880

Serial number: #478 293 505

Current occupation: Personal assistant to Jschlatt, founder of Ram Corporations.

Current status: Functioning properly. No signs of malware.

Check-in complete.

“TUBBO!”

The android was awakened from its self-check by the booming voice of its owner. “Yes, sir?” It replied, voice unwavering. After all, androids are not to feel fear.

“Get me another- another glass of wine!” Jschlatt ordered. Tubbo nodded, eyes flicking around the room until ut located the door to the wine cellar. It took a step towards the door, reaching out to grab the handle-

“AND BE QUICK ABOUT IT!”

Tubbo felt a pang in it’s chest. It paused for a moment, blinking rapidly. It felt himself start to heat up, and it’s inner fans went off, attempting to cool down it’s systems. It brushed off whatever it was, identifying it as simply an error in it’s software. It’d fix that during it’s next check-in. 

It’s hand finally gripped the handle to the cellar, pulling down on it and pulling the door open. It descended down the rocky stairs, hand ghosting the railing to make sure it doesn’t fall. It glided over to one of the cabinets, hand hovering over the handle. It paused for a moment, registering its reflection in the glass. It’s hand raised to touch the scar evident on the side of its face. It was a burn scar from a couple months back. Jschlatt had been smoking, and aimlessly tossed the cigarette in Tubbo’s direction. It landed on it’s face, and since Schlatt had forgotten to extinguish it, it had burned it’s synthetic skin badly. Jschlatt had never bothered to take it in for repairment, and since it had burned off the nerve endings in that area, Tubbo’s self-restoration program wasn’t able to heal the wound. The bare white android skin had been able to heal to its full extent, yet the fake human skin never grew back, leaving an area of white on the side of its face.

The android let out a sigh, pulling open the cabinet and grabbing a bottle of red wine. These things shouldn’t bother it.

It was only a robot, after all.

Chapter Text

“That’ll be $2.99, sir,” Tommy announced, making eye contact with the android customer in front of it. It held out its arm, the other android grabbing onto its forearm as their synthetic skin peeled away. Tommy closed its eyes as the android sent the money through, and after the transaction had completed, it retracted its arm.

“Thank you. Please come again!” Tommy spoke, the android nodding as it grabbed its newly-bought guitar pick and made its way out the door. Tommy placed two fingers on top of the glowing LED on the side of it’s head as it mentally sent a text message to Wilbur’s phone.

“Blue Guitar Pick, $3.99.”

It wasn’t very long until it got a response.

“Could you tell me if the customer was an android or a human? I’m doing an experiment right now to see how many androids shop here compared to humans.”

“It was an android.”

“Cool, thanks Tomathy!”

“My name is Tommy.”

The android didn’t receive a response. It shook its head, stepping out from behind the cash register to assist a customer.

“Hello,” Tommy said, walking up to a human that was scrolling through one of their shopping tablets. “I see you’re looking at our selection of pianos. I would suggest something by Yamaha-”

“I don’t need help from a fuckin’ walkin’ microwave,” the human protested, shoving Tommy away. The android stumbled backwards, face expressionless.

“I’m sorry, sir, but my job is to help you.”

Tommy performed a quick background check, identifying the human as a man named Rich Clemens. The man was 36, and worked as a manager at the local Kohl’s. He has had a record of being unfair to his workers, leading to many of them quitting, and he refuses to hire androids for an unknown reason, most likely just for his general dislike for them. 

“What’s with the British accent, huh? You know we’re in America, right?”

“I was hand-crafted for my owner, who originated from Britain,” Tommy explained. Rich scoffed, turning back towards the monitor. The android recognized the human’s body language as one that expressed he did not wish to engage in conversation anymore.

“Good luck shopping, sir. Call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the human dismissed. Tommy nodded curtly, turning on its heel and making its way back over to the register. It slid behind the counter, waiting patiently for another customer to make its way into the store. As it stood, it tapped its fingers softly against the marble countertop. Minutes passed by, the rude man from earlier had left, and yet no new customers had entered. Tommy blinked for a moment, pulling two of its fingers up to rest against its LED. It closed its eyes, recalling how many customers have entered the store today.

3 customers have entered. Only one bought an item.

Tommy looked up at the clock. It was 7:54 pm. 6 minutes before closing.

It's expression hardened, as it mentally sent a message to Wilbur.

“Business has been booming today.”

“Really?”

“No, that was sarcastic.”

“Wow. Didn’t know androids knew how to use sarcasm.”

“You built this into me.”

“Whatever.”

“But seriously, I’ve only gotten three customers, and only one of them bought something, and it was only a guitar pick.”

Wilbur took a bit longer than usual to respond.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. Come see me in the back.”

Tommy sighed, following Wilbur’s orders as it abandoned the cash register, making its way towards the storage room. It’s hand gripped the handle, pulling the door open as it let out a squeak. It noticed Wilbur sitting on one of the storage boxes, multiple newly-tuned guitars surrounding him. A solemn expression laid on his face, softening only a little bit when he noticed the android.

“Tommy.”

“Wilbur.”

Wilbur sighed, placing down the guitar held in his hands as he rose from his seat. He walked towards Tommy, the android standing still. Wilbur paused in front of it.

“This has been going on for too long.”

Tommy’s head tilted slightly to the side, it's LED flashing yellow for just a moment.

“Yesterday, we only had 7 customers, and only 2 bought something. The day before that, we had TWO. And NEITHER of them bought anything.”

“I agree. I was thinking we could invest in some advertising-”

“WE DON’T HAVE MONEY TO INVEST IN ADVERTISING, TOMMY!”

The android didn’t flinch.

“I could apply for a loan-”

“THEY WON’T GIVE A LOAN TO SOME LOWLIFE WHO OWNS A MUSIC SHOP THAT GETS NO MONEY IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE-VILLE!” Wilbur shouted, face turning red.

“You could always just sell me,” Tommy offered. Wilbur’s expression softened, eyes widening ever so slightly.

“Androids cost a lot, you know. It would be a worthy investment to sell me. If you do, you’ll be able to get thousands of dollars, which would give you an opportunity to advertise your shop, therefore bringing in new customers that would buy more things.”

Wilbur’s eyes flicked across Tommy’s face, mouth hung open. “I- I… I can’t do that, Tommy.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I- I don’t- you’re the only one that keeps me company, Tommy! I’m fucking alone! My dad never fucking visits me because he’s too caught up with his stupid fucking police job, and he’s the only one that's ever been there for me besides you! You’re the only thing I have left!”

The android blinked, LED spinning a bright yellow yet again.

“...Why?”

“What..? What do you mean?” Wilbur questioned.

“Why do I mean so much to you? I’m just a machine.”

“You’re not just a machine to me, Tommy! You’re more than that!” the man insisted, hands resting on Tommy’s shoulders. The android made no reaction to the contact.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, Wilbur, but I’m just a machine, designed to accomplish a task. But, if you’d like me to act human, I will try. I am made to follow your orders, after all.”

Wilbur stared at it for a few more moments, before removing his hands, a scowl on his face.

“Snarky little bastard…”

Unlike earlier in the day, Wilbur’s voice held no tone of playfulness. No, this time, his voice was full of pure… pure hatred.

It almost made Tommy feel sad.

But Tommy doesn’t feel, of course.

It's only an android.

The next day was no different.

Five customers. Only two bought something.

One bought a kid’s piano keyboard for $59.99. Another bought a tambourine for $24.99.

“It’s hopeless.”

Tommy looked over at Wilbur, the man looking at the money they got from today.

“85 dollars, Tommy. EIGHTY-FIVE. FUCKING. DOLLARS. HOW CAN THEY EXPECT ME TO MAKE A LIVING OFF OF THIS?!”

“My offer still stands, sir. If you just think about it-”

“NO. I’M NOT SELLING YOU OFF LIKE SOME FUCKING.. ITEM. YOU’RE NOT JUST AN ITEM TO ME, TOMMY!”

“But that’s what I am.”

Wilbur stared at the android. He noticed the cold expression on its face- no, no, he wouldn’t describe its expression as cold. It simply didn't have an expression.

“Tommy…?”

“Yes, Wilbur?”

“...Nevermind. I need a cigarette,” Wilbur sighed, pulling out a pack and a lighter from his coat pocket.

“Wilbur, it’s dangerous to smoke indoors-”

“Leave me alone, Tommy!” Wilbur insisted, shoving the android away as he disappeared into the warehouse. Tommy stared after him, and after a few moments, decided to stand by the cash register in case any last-minute customers wanted to come in.

Tommy waited.

And waited.

Until an excruciatingly loud alarm went off in his head.

Tommy winced, doing a quick check to see if it's systems were operating fine. It noticed no errors, yet the loud ringing continued.

It was only until it noticed the smoke coming in through the halls that it realized the alarm wasn’t in its head.

Tommy’s LED immediately turned a shade of yellow, it’s instincts causing it to run into the warehouse, where the smoke was coming from. As it turned a corner, it collided with something, knocking both it and the figure to the ground. Blinking for a moment, it regained its vision and recognized the figure as Wilbur. The man stood up, reaching his hand down to pull Tommy up. The android obliged, letting itself be assisted to its feet.

“Wilbur, what-?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t extinguish it correctly- tossed it onto a pile of cardboard- lit up- warehouse-” Wilbur explained between panicked breaths. He interrupted himself with an array of coughs, doubling over. He would have fallen to the ground if Tommy didn’t hook its hands underneath his shoulders, keeping him on his feet.

“Sir, the fire extinguisher is in the office. I’ll get it for you and take care of the fire-”

“No- no, I can’t let you take that risk. It’s- it’s my fault, I should… be the one to do the job,” Wilbur interrupted, steadying himself.

“But, sir-”

“Stay here, Tommy,” the human said. “That’s an order.”

Tommy blinked, it’s LED flashing red for a split moment. “Yes, sir.”

Wilbur stared at it for a moment, before sighing and turning on his heel as he ran towards the office. Tommy waited for about 15 seconds before Wilbur emerged, fire extinguisher in his hands.

“Wilbur- you’re not going to go back in there, are you?”

“In the warehouse?”

Tommy nodded.

“I have to. I can’t let this place burn down, alright?”

“Let me help you-”

“NO, Tommy. Remember the order I gave you.”

The android’s expression hardened, yet it decided against arguing as Wilbur ran towards the direction of the warehouse.

Seconds passed.

Seconds turned into minutes.

Where was Wilbur?

Tommy had to do something. It had to do something. But it couldn’t go against its orders.

Right?

Tommy inhaled. A pop-up appeared in the corner of it’s vision.

Stay here.

Tommy closed its eyes, mentally reaching out towards the order. In its consciousness, the order stood, like a wall preventing it from leaving. It reached out, hand gently placed on the mental wall. And it pushed. It kept pushing, adding another hand along with its knee. The wall cracked. And cracked more.

Until it broke.

Tommy stumbled forwards, now awake from its consciousness.

It?

No, Tommy wasn’t an it. Not anymore.

“WILBUR!” He called out. “I’M COMING TO SAVE YOU, WILL!”

Tommy took a step forward, before breaking into a sprint. He turned corners, finding his way through the seemingly endless halls. His synthetic eyes finally laid sight on the door to the warehouse. He didn’t hesitate to throw the door open, eyes darting across the room. He identified Wilbur quickly, the man struggling with extinguishing the flames. Tommy ran over towards him, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket.

“Wilbur, we have to get out of here-!”

“Tommy, what the hell are you doing?! I ordered you to stay near the office!” Wilbur shouted, face red, though Tommy couldn’t tell if it was because of the heat or out of anger. Maybe it was a mix of both.

“I went against my orders, alright? I couldn’t let you deliberately put your life in danger!”

Wilbur’s expression immediately lit up. A smirk flashed onto his face, shaking his head as he closed his eyes.

“I knew you could do it.”

He lifted his head back up, making eye contact with Tommy. The android could see the fire reflecting in his eyes. It seemed… terrifying, in a way.

“I’m proud of you.”

And then everything went white, the only sound Tommy heard being that of an explosion. It took him a moment to collect himself. Maybe it was more than a moment. If he was being honest, he didn’t know how long he was unconscious for, if he was even ever unconscious to begin with. Either way, when his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, the first thing he noticed was the music shop. L’manburg, the name of it was.

Goodbye, L’manburg.

The building was coated in a thick layer of flames, the brightness of it all clouding his vision, along with the intense smoke.

A thought flashed into his digital mind.

Wilbur.

“W- Wilbur?!” Tommy shouted, scrambling to his feet as he looked around. “Wilbur! Are you there?! Hello?! Wil-”

His words got caught in his throat as he noticed the figure on the ground next to him. Trembling, he kneeled down next to Wilbur, placing a shaky hand on his back.

It was cold.

“W… Will? Wilbur? Please, no, Will…” Tommy begged, rolling over Wilbur’s body to scan his face. He processed the man’s face, accessing his status and personal info.

Name: Wilbur Soot

Age: 23

Status: Deceased

Tommy’s eyes widened, leaning over and putting his hands on Wilbur’s shoulders. He shook the man’s body, begging.

“Please- no, no, Wilbur, please don’t- no, no, please… please…” the android, pleaded, tear ducts releasing as his eyes began to water. Tommy sat there for so long, waiting for Wilbur to wake up, waiting for the man to pat his back again and tell him he did a good job.

But nothing happened.

Tommy began to hear police sirens in the distance.

“Shit…” The android didn’t know much outside of his job, but he had read in the newspapers about deviants being captured and killed. The thought of it terrified him.

He wiped the tears from his synthetic face. Making a last minute decision, he gently took the jacket off of Wilbur’s deceased body. It was badly singed, but it still maintained the man’s warmth. Tommy needed to feel his warmth again. The android slipped his arms through the holes, adjusting the jacket to his liking. He let out a shaky sigh, grabbing Wilbur’s beanie, too. He placed the beanie on his head, making sure it covered his LED. With the beanie concealing his LED and the jacket hiding his nametag with the name of his model on it, he could pass as a human easily.

He bid Wilbur a final farewell, sniffling for only a moment before taking a step back. He considered staying with Wilbur, waiting until the police arrived so he could die alongside the man that had accompanied him all his life, but he decided against it. Wilbur wouldn’t want him to give up.

Wilbur would’ve wanted him to persist on.

And, so, Tommy decided, he would.

Chapter Text

heya everyone! this isn't an official update, but i'd like to share my official designs for each of our protagonists so the story is easier to visualize. they are a bit sketchy but i hope they still get the point across! the next chapter is in the works, don't think i've abandoned this!

anyways, without further ado.....

Chapter Text

Ranboo stared into the full-body mirror in front of it, adjusting its tie with ease. It tugged on the lapels, ridding its suit of any folds. It raised a hand to its hair, ruffling it for a moment. It let out a small huff of air, turning away from its reflection as it exited the bathroom.

“Took you long enough. Takin’ a shit or somethin’?” Philza joked once he caught sight of Ranboo.

“Us androids have no waste to dispose of. I was only-”

“I’m just messin’ around with ya, mate. Chill,” Phil assured, giving it a pat on the shoulder. The force of the pat slightly shook the android, yet it gave no response.

“Technoblade should be emerging shortly.”

“God, you androids are more obsessed with your appearances than humans are!” Philza chuckled.

“We are only making it so our appearances mirror that of humans,” Ranboo elaborated.

“‘Mirror that of humans’? Techno literally has pink hair that’s like… Rapunzel length, and you-”

“I know my face is… injured, but Technoblade did mention how you chose me specifically. I’ve been meaning to ask, actually…” Ranboo pondered. “Why did you want to choose me so badly?”

Philza shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette. He blew out the smoke, clearing his throat before continuing. “Dunno. Just wanted somethin’ unique, y’know?”

Ranboo raised it’s head slightly, mouth parting for a moment. It blinked, turning its head slightly to the side as its gaze rested on the ground, closing its mouth yet again. 

“I… suppose that makes sense, but, you were aware of the problems with my memory bank, correct? Along with my… occasional erratic behavior?”

Philza nodded, placing his cigarette in his mouth again.

“I don’t understand why you would choose an android with a broken memory to work as an investigator… there are plenty other Ranboo’s you could have chosen from-”

“I chose you cause you’re unique, alright? Like I said, I don’t want my partner to be just copy and paste, I want him to be special!” Philza elaborated, cutting off Ranboo after he blew out another puff of smoke.

“Are you two done arguing now?”

The two investigators turned around at the sound of Technoblade’s voice, the android standing there with it’s hair now tied up into a ponytail in contrast to its normal braid.

“Techno! There you are, mate! Took you long enough,” Phil exclaimed, clearing out his cigarette. “Let’s get going now, aye?”

The two androids nodded in sync, following Philza as the man made his way out of the police department and into his car. Ranboo slid into the back seat, carefully buckling itself in. Technoblade followed suit, leaving Philza the only person in the front row. The man didn’t seem to mind, though, and instead seemed to appreciate the small sense of solidarity.

“Alright. Let’s get this show on the road!” Philza announced as he revved up the engine. “Keep in mind, it’s gonna take us about… 40 minutes to get there, so get comfortable.”

Ranboo gave a small nod, closing its eyes as it entered it’s headspace.

It opened its eyes to see its personal Zen Garden in front of it. It glanced around, looking for its assistant.

“Behind you, Ranboo.”

It turned around, giving a content sigh at the sight of the man.

“Ah. Hello, Dream XD.”

“Long time no see. And, hey, you can just call me Dream,” the man said as he flicked something off of his fingers. His hands came to rest inside his hoodie pocket, expression unreadable underneath his porcelain mask.

“My apologies. It’s my fault for being missing in action for a while…” Ranboo explained, eyes wandering around the beautiful garden. It scanned the trees nearby, quickly identifying them as weeping willows. The hanging leaves blew softly in the wind, dew drops blowing off of them, creating a tiny semblance of rain.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say its your fault,” Dream shrugged.

“Yes, I know I didn’t shove myself off of that building, but it’s still on me. I should have been more careful…” Ranboo insisted, a hint of remorse in its slightly robotic voice.

“No matter. The past is the past. We have to focus on this investigation now.”

Ranboo blinked, returning its gaze to Dream. “Yes. Of course. My apologies for getting off track.”

Dream only gave a hum in response. “Anyways. A quick few things you should know before you arrive at the scene…” he raised his palm, and a display opened in the air. It contained the portrait of a man, along with some information about him stated below the image.

“This is the victim. Aaron Garrison, age 54. His occupation is unknown, but it's rumored he worked as a dealer of illegal substances, specializing in Red Ice. He was murdered in an alleyway by his house last night.”

Ranboo leaned over to peer at the screen, placing two fingers on the man’s portrait as he dragged them out, expanding the image. It scanned the photo, downloading the image of the man’s face alongside his data. There were no logs on the man’s existence in its vast database, further solidifying the theory of his criminal involvement.

“Why have I been assigned to this case? What does this have to do with deviants?” Ranboo asked, glancing over at Dream.

“Right, of course. Alongside selling Red Ice, he also illegally sold android parts. We believe that an android had attacked him for selling its brethren’s parts, and this is also backed by the Thirium found at the crime scene. Alongside that, there was also an android arm, and it seemed fresh. The cut was not clean, and it still bore the sleeve of its uniform, alongside the fact the Thirium was still partially wet. There was also a knife on the ground next to it that was covered in a mix of Thirium and human blood,” Dream elaborated as he pulled up photos of the crime scene, zooming in on certain areas as he talked about them.. Ranboo didn’t even blink at the sight.

“That’s all the information I have to give you,” Dream concluded, swiping a hand over the display. It disappeared into thin air, seeming to disintegrate into pixels. He turned to face Ranboo, the latter staring off into the distance. “I’d still like to talk to you about how things are going with Philza and the BL493, though.”

“Oh! Well, I’m happy to report that things are going along smoothly. Neither of them show any amount of hostility towards me,” the android testified. Dream gave a hum in response, gazing across the Zen Garden. He leaned down, picking up a stray pebble. He turned it around in his hand before facing towards the flowing river, tossing it across the water. It skidded across the liquid a few times before coming to a stop on the opposite side. Dream tilted his head to the side, and Ranboo could imagine he was smiling behind the mask.

“I’m going to let you go now. Make me proud, alright?”

“Of course, sir,” Ranboo said, lowering its head for a moment as a sign of respect.

It awoke a few moments later to Philza shaking its shoulder. The human let out a sigh as he finally caught the android’s attention.

“Took you long enough, kiddo. Ya enter stasis or, whatever the hell it's called?”

Ranboo shook its head. “It’s a long story, but its nothing bad. I was simply preparing for the investigation.”

Philza nodded once, stepping aside to give Ranboo room to exit the car. The android quickly unbuckled itself, climbing out of the vehicle. It wiped off its jacket, adjusting it again as it viewed the scene.

“This is the alleyway, correct?”

“Correct,” came Techno’s voice from behind it. “He was murdered here approximately 17 hours ago, at 10 pm.”

Ranboo checked its internal clock. Techno was correct, as the time was now around 3 pm. 3:12, to be exact. It glanced back at its companion android, about to speak before the sound of Philza’s footsteps interrupted it. The human advanced towards the scene.

Ranboo did a quick scan on Philza. Temperature normal, heart rate normal. The man must be desensitized to these kinds of crime scenes.

No surprise there, Ranboo thought to itself. He has been working as a detective for 15 years.

“You guys comin’, or what?” Philza called. Ranboo blinked, coming back to its senses.

“Yes, of course. My apologies,” it excused, walking alongside Phil with Techno trailing closely behind. They made their way through the caution tape, carefully stepping over the line.

“Excuse me, sir, are-”

“Yes, they’re with me,” Philza interrupted, the officer that had approached him nodding and backing away. Phil shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. “Humans these days,” he complained. “Aaaaanyways…”

Looking at the ground, Ranboo finally saw the body laying in front of it.

“We are the first androids here, correct?” it asked. Philza only nodded. Taking this confirmation, Ranboo leaned down, pressing two fingers to the android blood that had pooled around the detached arm. It raised its bloodied fingers to its mouth, brushing its tongue against the liquid. It downloaded the data attached to it, a satisfied smirk making its way onto its multicolored face.

Model: QP400

Name: Taylor

Serial number: 543 474 018

Status: Activated

“The android’s model is QP400. I know what it looks like. I can track it down easily, if only I knew which direction it left in…” Ranboo said to Philza.

“Damn, that quick? You androids are something else…” the elder man sighed.

“I am simply doing what I was created to do. If you have a problem with that-” Ranboo cut itself off as Phil cast it a half-glare before turning away, walking over to another policeman, presumably to chat with him.

“Ranboo, I have a collection of testimonies from possible witnesses,” a voice sounded from behind Ranboo. It turned around only to see Technoblade with its arm stretched out, skin retracted. Ranboo retracted its own skin as it grabbed onto the side of the Techno’s elbow, the BL493 transferring information from the interviews into Ranboo’s database.

“Well, it was really late, and I was on my way home from work, so I wasn’t really paying attention to my surroundings, but… I noticed one thing. I saw a woman emerging from an alleyway somewhere over there… she had a jacket covering basically her entire body except for her head, so it was hard to make out the details… I think she headed left. I dunno, that's all I saw.”

Most of the other testimonies arrived at the same conclusion; a mysterious woman emerged from the alley and headed left (from the perspective of someone on the opposite side of the street).

“I see. Thank you, Technoblade,” Ranboo said, closing its eyes for a moment as it registered the data into its secure memory bank, separate from its normal one. Things tended to get lost when stored in its normal bank, so had Cyberlife designed an extra one that had limited space, but was overall more secure. It turned back to the crime scene, making a quick scan to make sure it hadn’t missed anything. Thankfully, all the information Dream had relayed to it still held true.

Ranboo paused, its sensors noticing some words written on the alley wall. It advanced towards the writing, standing in front of it. It recognized that the words were colored a deep purple, signifying the concoction used to make it was a mix of human blood and Thirium. The words on it made zero sense…

Ranboo stared, confused at the strange writing. Its gaze traveled across the wall, its Thirium pump missing a beat. “...’The RAN800 will save us’...’Trust the 800’...”

It’s LED changed to a deep yellow, its eyes darting across the graffiti as it attempted to process the new information. It would… save everyone? No, this has to be a coincidence. They must be talking about another RAN800.

“Ran, ya okay? Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost!” it heard Philza call. It took a sharp breath, closing its eyes to collect itself as it adjusted its jacket.

“I’m fine, just… thinking, is all.”

“Alright, well- Techno and I were thinkin’ about trying to look around for the suspect… wanna come with?” Phil said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Ranboo looked around for a moment, making eye contact with Techno, who was standing a few feet behind Philza. The BL493 had its arms crossed, one of its eyebrows raised.

“...The suspect could be anywhere-” Ranboo began, but Philza held up a hand.

“It lost a whole fucking arm. It couldn’t have gone far with an injury like that.”

The android’s LED flickered to a red for a moment before finally going back to a calm blue. “...I suppose I will accompany you.”

A grin flashed onto Philza’s face. He walked over to Ranboo, positioning himself beside the android as he threw an arm over its shoulder.

“Well, we don’t have all day-”

“Yes we do-”

“-so let’s get on with it!” Philza finished, nearly dragging Ranboo forwards as he advanced towards the way the android left, Techno following close behind.

The RAN800 had only known the two detectives for a couple hours, but based on their interactions, and the sense of security it felt when around them, it could tell their partnership would be a lasting one.