In the long and turbulent history of Chicago P.D., few characters have carried the weight of moral ambiguity, tragedy, and grit like Sergeant Hank Voight. For over a decade, Voight has stood at the center of the Intelligence Unit, a figure both feared and admired, hated and respected. His methods have always been questionable, often outright brutal, and yet for many fans, there has always been the lingering question of redemption. Could Voight ever truly be redeemed for the years of violence, cover-ups, and manipulations that defined his leadership? Season 13 of Chicago P.D. has sparked one of the darkest, most intriguing theories in recent years: the potential death of a young officer like Reid, and how such a loss might finally crack open Voight’s hardened exterior in a way no storyline ever has. This theory doesn’t just hinge on death as a shocking plot device—it suggests a deeper transformation, a narrative twist that could redefine not only Voight’s arc but the emotional core of the show itself.
At its heart, the theory is almost Shakespearean. A leader built on control, fear, and sacrifice is confronted with the kind of tragedy that forces him to see the weight of his own choices. Reid, a relatively newer character in the universe of Chicago P.D., has come to embody hope, potential, and the future of the Intelligence Unit. His earnestness, his determination to serve the law without being swallowed by its compromises, sets him apart from Voight’s way of doing things. The mere possibility of Reid being taken away—through death, whether in the line of duty or in some orchestrated narrative twist—would be more than just the loss of a promising officer. It would be the symbolic destruction of innocence in Voight’s world. And for fans who have waited more than a decade for Voight to face the consequences of his actions, it might be the only way to crack his armor.
To understand why this theory has struck such a chord with audiences, you have to look back at the history of Voight himself. Introduced not as a hero but as something of an anti-hero antagonist, Voight first entered the One Chicago universe in Chicago Fire, and from the very beginning, he blurred the lines of morality. His willingness to bend the law, threaten, or even kill in the name of his own brand of justice made him a controversial but magnetic character. Over the years, fans watched him mentor his team, push them to extremes, and lose key allies in the process. From the tragic death of Alvin Olinsky, one of the most gut-wrenching exits in franchise history, to the fallout of Voight’s role in covering up crimes, his storylines have always circled around guilt, punishment, and control. Yet somehow, Voight has endured. The writers have kept him at the helm because he represents something raw and true about Chicago P.D.—the messy reality that justice is not always clean. But at the same time, the audience has been yearning for a shift, for some sign that Voight might evolve beyond being a man chained to his past.
That is where Reid comes in. The character of Reid, though not as deeply rooted in the show’s history as Voight or Upton or Burgess, represents a generational change in policing. He is not yet compromised. He is not broken by the system or weighed down by decades of mistakes. If anything, his character has often felt like a mirror held up to Voight: the younger man still clinging to ideals, while the older man embodies the sacrifices those ideals demand. For Reid to die under Voight’s watch would not only be a devastating blow to the unit but also a narrative turning point. It would strip Voight of any last shred of denial that his way of doing things can protect the people around him. For years, he has told himself that his methods, though harsh, are necessary. But if Reid’s blood ends up on his hands—directly or indirectly—that illusion crumbles. The redemption arc fans have been waiting for may not come through Voight suddenly becoming soft or lawful; it might emerge from him finally facing the reality of what his leadership has cost.
Speculation about Season 13 has already been intense, but what makes this theory even more gripping is the timing. After so many years of Voight’s darkness going unchecked, audiences are more than ready for a seismic shift. And if the writers are brave enough to go there, Reid’s death could function as the spark that reignites not just Voight’s story but the entire emotional engine of the series. Imagine the fallout: the unit fractured, trust destroyed, the younger officers questioning whether they can even follow Voight anymore. Upton, who has always battled her own moral compromises under Voight’s influence, might finally break away. Burgess, fiercely protective of her family and driven by empathy, might clash with Voight in ways we’ve never seen before. And in the middle of it all, Voight would be forced to choose: double down on the monster he has become, or claw his way toward some form of redemption in honor of the young officer who embodied everything he had lost.
For fans, the appeal of this theory is not just about shock value. It’s about emotional payoff. Voight has always been a fascinating character, but there has been a risk of stagnation. How many more times can he break the law for the sake of justice before it begins to feel repetitive? How many more cover-ups can the unit endure before the formula becomes predictable? Reid’s death as a catalyst for change offers something new. It is the kind of storytelling twist that doesn’t just shock in the moment but ripples through the series for seasons to come. It creates a wound that can’t be ignored, a scar that shapes every interaction, every choice, every bit of dialogue. And perhaps most importantly, it puts Voight in uncharted territory. For a man who has always thrived on control, losing Reid would be the one thing he cannot fix, manipulate, or erase. It would be irreversible. And in that irreversibility lies the possibility of genuine redemption.
Even outside the narrative, this theory has sparked discussions about the nature of redemption itself. Can a character like Voight, after years of brutality and corruption, ever truly be redeemed? Or is redemption in the world of Chicago P.D. less about erasing sins and more about carrying them differently? Reid’s death could give the writers a chance to explore these questions in a way that resonates with fans who have watched since the beginning. It would not absolve Voight of his past, but it might force him to confront it with honesty, humility, and grief in a way that feels authentic rather than forced.
