Connor had inspected what passed for manufacturing facilities. Had a... revealing chat with the proprietor. He'd even managed to acquire some confirmation of human's claims. While more recent work and traffic muddied the trail too much to properly reconstruct the scene, there was plenty of evaporated thirium throughout the premises.

No biocomponents, but if Stark was making use of his predecessor's parts, he doubts they would be out on display. He'd acquired the evidence he needed, and even a few possibilities to investigate next. Really, Connor meant to be long gone.

But there was something... pressing at his processors. A sense of lightness. A strange warmth, biasing his calculations towards the favorable, regardless of the numerous concerns. He'd run no less than seven diagnostics since he first noticed the malfunction, and not a one gave any indication of its source. Did Stark do something to him? Even that suspicion is... difficult to focus on. To consider with the proper weight.

Fingers curl just slightly at the android's side as he stares ahead—apparently, at a blank section of workbench. Thirium stains aren't visible to a human eye. Still, even a human could detect the upward twitch of Connor's lips. It's followed immediately by a frown—which in turn smothers under a perfectly expressionless facade. Only the steady spinning of his blue LED reveals any sign of agitation.

He's working perfectly.