#Time to throw Wheatley into android hell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

humanwheatleyslefttoenail · 4 years ago

Text

Now I Am An Arsonist

Chapter 2: The Acrobat

Summary: GLaDOS learns a few things about love, hate, and the human condition.

Tags: Canon typical violence, ChellDOS, human!GLaDOS, found family

A/N: I know technically I published this a while back but I did some major edits to both the chapters I’ve already written and the story as a whole. As promised, I’m re-releasing what I already have with the edits/illustrations.

She’d awoken slowly, feeling the hard coils of a mattress underneath Her back and a stiff yellow jumpsuit enshrouding Her arms and legs. Long fall boots clung tightly to Her feet, uncomfortably squeezed into the rigid white plastic.

Gradually, She sat up on the neatly-made bed, a rough linen blanket still covering Her lower half. The chamber had been deliberately made to look like a hotel room, complete with a TV in the corner and a nightstand on the side. Something wasn’t right.

It was like living in a distant memory, a dream She’d had but not quite remembered.

A part of Her felt like this was normal, as if She’d woken up here every morning, but another urged Her to look for answers.

GLaDOS searched Her memory, not fully processing the world around Her, puzzled as to why Her thoughts had been slowed tenfold.

Looking down, She saw two pale human arms and two pale human hands. Feeling the top of Her head, She found a mess of dark brown hair which came down to Her shoulders.

No, this surely wasn’t right.

Only hours ago, only hours ago, She’d been in control of all of Aperture Science. She’d been invincible, the immortal, all-powerful GLaDOS and now…

Now, She was this.

What the hell is going on here?

There was seldom more awful than to be a human being, to live a short, painful life burdened equally by love and hate. Even on Her worst days, the most She could muster for human beings was a vague sense of pity.

Yet, here She was, more human than She had been in centuries.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

Being Caroline, however brief, was not something She’d ever wished to return to. Emotions were completely incapacitating. There was something to be said for the victory of a test well done, of throwing Wheatley into space where the little moron belonged, of the relief when Chell woke up. But something like guilt? Something like fear? Real, genuine fear?

As a machine, She could destroy those feelings, suppress them until they were nothing at all. As a human, that task wasn’t so easy.

Sparks of happiness, moments of joy; none of them were worth the ordeal.

Even the anticipation of fear made GLaDOS’ chest pound, rapidly breathing in and out as She reflexively clung to the blanket. The last thing She needed was more complicated thoughts about Chell, more bittersweet memories of Cave, more useless sentiments to wring Her bitter heart dry.

In a very human moment of pure shock, GLaDOS screamed. It was an ugly cry of anger and surprise swirled together, resounding throughout the vault. The echoes echoed off the walls, and the once-powerful GLaDOS cowered with Her head in Her hands.

The potato was bad enough. The potato brought Her closer to Her own humanity than She’d ever wanted to acknowledge, but barely minutes in GLaDOS could tell that this would be infinitely worse. GLaDOS felt Herself shaking, barely even processing the fact that this hideous amalgamate of skin and bones was now Her body. Now She had hair, She had hands, She had fingers and She had lungs and She had a heartbeat.

She had a heartbeat. A thudding reminder of Her newfound vulnerability. A symbol of Her weakness.

GLaDOS did not particularly care to be weak.

Finally, She understood the meaning of organic in Organic Transplant Procedure. Could they have possibly made it any vaguer?

Whatever this was, whatever had happened, She had to figure it out. The potato battery, being fed to birds, and dying twice was apparently not enough to satisfy whatever gods lurked in Android Hell. She would spite them once again, return to Her body, and everything would be alright. It had been alright before, so why wouldn’t it be now? At least, this time, She didn’t have Chell and Wheatley working against Her. All She had was Herself and the facility.

GLaDOS took a deep breath, a sensation She had not felt for hundreds of years. The motion didn’t entirely calm Her nerves, but Her only option was to move forward. Staying here would do nothing to help. The faster She figured something out, the faster She could leave this awful body.

GLaDOS leaned one arm against the peeling wallpaper, trying to balance on Her boots. The heels on the shoes were suspended above the floor, supported by a spring. Shifting Her weight while wearing them, however, was an acquired skill. Gently lifting Her hand from the wall, arms out at Her side, She was stable.

Briefly.

Without warning, the boots gave way, and GLaDOS toppled onto the dusty carpet.

A dull pain filled Her legs, quickly fading as She clung to the wall and rose again slowly. If She wanted to go anywhere, She would have to try again.

She walked along the side of the wall and felt the way the heels bounced beneath Her, made specifically to take the impact of any fall. Cautiously, GLaDOS let go of the side of the room, miraculously still. She took a careful step forward, preparing for impact, only to see that She was steadier than expected. Still, each step was uneasy, tense and on the cusp of collapsing.

Walking around the perimeter of the bed, She peered at the little wooden nightstand. One of the drawers had already been pulled out, but the other remained tightly shut. Crouching down, GLaDOS wrenched the second drawer open, finding a small mirror clouded with age. Holding it close to Her face, She examined Her repulsive new features.

GLaDOS wondered if there was any particular reason why this body looked so similar to Caroline. Most likely, it was an odd coincidence, but She wouldn’t put it past Aperture to clone a body that looked exactly like her own. She appeared to be in Her late thirties, already sporting gray hairs and frown lines. Her eyes, weighed down by bags, were a dull metal gray.

Robots, unlike humans, were built specifically to look beautiful - gears moving in harmony, painted finish gleaming under the lights of the enrichment center. She was stunning in the way She alone could be, completely alien and yet striking to the eye.

Humans, on the other hand, were made only to survive. Nature didn’t particularly mind if its final product was an unsightly, hairless primate so long as it could handle the simple job of finding food. Some humans considered certain members of their own species more attractive than others, but GLaDOS found them all equally ugly. Humans, with all their variation, all looked the same when you’d seen enough of them.

GLaDOS’ real body was a physical manifestation of Her power; She didn’t care that it was pleasing to the eye so long as it conveyed a sense of authority. This new human body, with its small size, its blemishes and imperfections, conveyed the exact opposite. Other humans may have even described Her appearance with words like pretty, soft or even kindly.

The idea of being seen as anything but imposing was a nightmare.

For Her own sake, GLaDOS didn’t ruminate over Her first impressions any longer.

Part of the zipper on Her yellow jumpsuit was undone, revealing an implant attached to Her right collarbone. It appeared to be a small, bright yellow core, the source of Her being, woven into Her skin by a cluster of wires.

GLaDOS rezipped it, the yellow light still glowing brightly through the fabric.

Without a second thought, She placed the mirror back in the drawer and shut it closed, screening the room for an exit. In the front of the room was a wooden door with a rusty brass knob, waiting to be turned ajar. Without hesitation, She followed the path and twisted the handle, the door creaking open without any resistance.

As She entered the hall, GLaDOS was taken aback by the sheer number of chambers, suspended from above and hanging inches away from a more stable platform. Closing the door behind Her and jumping onto the catwalk, She couldn’t help but notice the sense of abandonment that filled the room. It had been centuries since the old Relaxation Center had been brought up to code, and previously there hadn’t been much reason to improve it.

Now GLaDOS wished She’d put in the effort.

The metal catwalk led directly to an old waiting room. Ladderback chairs sat around a central column in the middle, surrounded by coffee tables, a water dispenser and miscellaneous paintings. A flickering Aperture Science logo still shined in the dim gray room, gleaming a ghostly white. Near the back, a faded poster called for test subject applications, apparently endorsed by Cave Johnson himself.

Everywhere She looked, remnants of a dead man’s company made parodies of themselves, untouched for years.

Behind a front desk was a hallway filled with shadows, leading behind the room. With nowhere else to go, GLaDOS stepped into the dark, the light of Her core guiding Her through.

There wasn’t much to see, and for a while, the corridor ran along a single route.

GLaDOS had to come up with a plan.

Somewhere around here there had to be a control room, or at least a place where She could catch a lift back to the Enrichment Center. The thought crossed Her mind that She might have to pass through a testing track, one of Her own meticulously designed traps. It didn’t matter. She’d deal with it when She got to it.

The hallway was only becoming darker, and the little light on Her shoulder wasn’t nearly bright enough. As far as She could tell, there were no switches along the way. Any lighting was likely controlled by a power station a mile from here.

Something metallic banged against Her foot, and upon examination, GLaDOS discovered it was an empty can of beans. In front of Her, at least three more were lined up in a row. She sighed.

Of course Doug had been here. That man was as ingenious as he was stealthy, and had found his way through every nook and cranny at Aperture. Not even Chell had been able to access some of the places he had.

GLaDOS took it as a good sign. Wherever the path led, it meant someone had been able to survive it.

Surviving had never exactly been a consideration before. Even when Chell killed Her the first time, She had a feeling there was some kind of safeguard. Humans didn’t have a black box; when they were gone, they were gone. Nothing could bring back a dead human.

As a potato, GLaDOS had been forced to confront the idea that if Wheatley blew up the facility, that would really be the end. There had been a part of Her almost content that if it was, Chell would be by Her side. Whether it was a vengeful wish, or a side effect of companionship was still unknown.

Back then, though, She hadn’t really been in control. She’d relied on simple hope that Chell could stop Wheatley before it all went down, not contributing much besides the occasional bit of advice. Now GLaDOS was responsible for Her own fate, fully mobile and fully alone.

Maybe that was even scarier than standing still.

After all, She could rely on Chell. Relying on this new human body was another story altogether.

The question now was whether any light could be found in this hallway. GLaDOS uncomfortably dropped to her knees, feeling for anything besides the three cans. She grasped at something plastic with a switch on the side. A flashlight.

Turning it on, the hallway became completely visible. Immediately, GLaDOS was surprised by the sheer number of paintings that covered the white walls.

Portraits of Chell were splattered from floor to ceiling. Everywhere GLaDOS looked, a woman in an orange jumpsuit stared back at Her, shooting portals and knocking over turrets. Swirls of paint danced from one scene to another, blending each picture into the next. Words were haphazardly scrawled across, some of them poetic and others screaming pure nonsense. Whatever meaning they’d had was lost with Doug.

A common theme was the companion cube, and one particularly disturbing image replaced their iconic hearts with bleeding human eyes. There was a stark contrast between the idyllic, peaceful depictions of Chell sleeping and the scribbles of scientists running for their lives. GLaDOS could barely make out some of the more manic drawings, but those turned out to be the most horrifying. Tightly clustered loops signified a cloud of neurotoxin. Blotches of red were human remains.

GLaDOS stood back up, meandering further down the hall. The paintings only devolved from here, intricate detail morphing into vague warnings.

Don’t trust Her lies.

The path went on for about another fifteen minutes, twisting and turning at sharp angles. Metal doors led to cluttered offices, all of them sealed and locked. In some of them, the computers were still on, endlessly flickering in the darkness.

When GLaDOS finally reached the end of the corridor, She was greeted with the sudden activation of a bright white light. Reflexively, She shielded Her eyes as the voice of the announcer blared.

“Welcome, Aperture Science Testing Associate! You’re here because you’ve voluntarily, or involuntarily, chosen to sign over all your legal rights to Aperture Science and further humanity’s progress!”

Of course. Being turned into a fleshy mess of tissues wasn’t enough. She’d have to go through the testing track, too.

She bit her lip in silent rage, no longer blinded by the light, gazing upon an airtight room with little more than a circular door. All around Her was white, covered in portal surfaces. Beneath Her, GLaDOS could feel the electronics of the panels whir, making the whole room seem alive. It could move at any moment.

“Before we begin, the Enrichment Center would like to remind you that you may suffer terrible injuries caused by our testing devices designed to create terrible injuries. If you have suffered a terrible injury, please review our community-shared legal manual, which states that Aperture Science takes no responsibility.”

GLaDOS knew that redundant message. It was backup, for when She wasn’t there to narrate. Testing tracks had levels of difficulty, and before Her takeover, it was fairly common for subjects to be screened and assigned one based on what they could handle. This message only played for the most difficult, and consequently, the deadliest. Not even GLaDOS was entirely sure what was in here; She hadn’t used it for fear of subjects dying before any real data could be collected.

“As part of [HIGH DIFFICULTY] testing protocol, Aperture Science has temporarily issued you your very own Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device.”

Without warning, a panel on the ceiling lifted, a robotic claw descending and dropping the device directly in front of GLaDOS. The claw lifted, and the panel closed again.

“The device has been successfully deployed. To ensure the validity of our tests, please verify that your device is completely operational.”

GLaDOS was familiar with the portal gun from Her databases, and She knew exactly how to work it. Despite this, She’d never actually handled one Herself, unless being impaled on the end of one counted. The device was heavy in Her hands, cold and sleek against Her fingers. The center, black plastic encasing a glowing yellow coil, was warm to the touch.

Pointing at one of the white panels, She cocked the trigger, and a golden portal blossomed in front of Her. Running Her fingers across the surface, it felt like waving a hand through a ray of sunlight. GLaDOS turned around, shooting the next portal at the opposite wall. The portal which followed was a lighter yellow, less vivid than the first.

“Good. A signal from the device has proven activation. Please enter the elevator.”

The metal door opened, and just beyond the emancipation grill, an elevator stood wait. It was the only path left to take.

---

Putting a cube on a button should’ve been a simple task for a supercomputer. Even for a human, the menial work was a cognitive breeze. The large button in particular required minimal force to operate, and the weighted storage cubes were lighter than they appeared. In any scenario, placing an object on another was easily mastered with only the most basic of motor skills. It could have qualified as the least difficult task known to mankind. All GLaDOS had to do was put one cube on one button.

That was all there was. One cube, one button, and several killing machines stuffed with thousands of bullets. It was for this reason that GLaDOS could not perform this extraordinarily simple job. The turrets blocking the way would surely be a hurdle.

Already, GLaDOS could feel the beginnings of human fear creeping into Her mind. She was out of the turrets’ line of sight, and yet the caution of Her new form compelled Her to stay hidden in the corner regardless. Nervously clutching the trigger of Her portal gun, She considered the dangers lurking in future tests. This one was only the first, and it had already deployed one of the worst weapons Aperture had to offer.

Logically, GLaDOS knew She could step out. She could put one portal behind Her, another at the opposite wall, and avoid the turrets altogether. Behind them would certainly be the cube and the button. Still, emotion was quite a world apart from logic. As a computer, She could be revived over and over again. Humans could not be fixed, and GLaDOS understood that in the very unlikely possibility She died here, She was never coming back.

GLaDOS didn’t want to admit that She was afraid, not even to Herself. She was sure Chell could tell back when Wheatley was in control; She’d let Her voice slip more than once. Now, with nobody around, She only had Herself to prove it to.

Removing Her cores all that time ago had also been the removal of Her regulators; She felt everything once they were detached, things She would have to relearn how to suppress. All She remembered before the world went dark, before Chell killed her, what She’d relived, was fear. Panic. Terror. There were a million words for it, none encapsulating just how soul-wrenching the phenomenon was.

Even then, that’s all it was for Her. Just an emotion. For human beings, fear was a sixth sense. It could be felt in a spiraling heartbeat, in beads of sweat, in shallow breaths and temporary, last-ditch strength. Fear was a state of being, and for the particularly unfortunate, a way of life.

GLaDOS knew fear only when She had to, only when She could not shove it to the very bottom of Her files. Humans knew fear like they knew living.

What a miserable way to be.

It was all the more reason to complete these chambers faster.

When She reached the other side of the room, GLaDOS found exactly what She expected. The cube glowed a bright yellow when placed on the Aperture Science Super-Colliding Super Button, and the chamber lock opened.

As the elevator descended, GLaDOS realized that She had no idea how to solve these tests. She was smart, and the solution would certainly come to Her eventually, but the human mind could only store so much. GLaDOS used to have entire libraries of nothing but solutions to tests, but the upload procedure hadn’t deemed that useful or necessary. When trying to remember, there was nothing. For the first time, GLaDOS’ mind was blank.

The next test dashed all Her hopes for a few more tutorial puzzles.

No, GLaDOS reassured Herself. This is alright. I’m used to being challenged.

After Chell, She was sure any other problem would be easier to solve.

This particular test was supposed to introduce lasers. The first step was to burn the turrets with the beam, done with the help of portals and crouching behind a corner. The explosions were louder than She’d expected; GLaDOS had seldom heard them outside of watching from a camera. Her ears rung as She crept past the charred remains of the turrets, almost nothing left of the slender white robots. The burn marks brought a smile to Her face; She’d killed them. Even now, She had power over something.

The turrets were programmed to have some level of sentience, though their sense of self was not nearly as defined as that of a core’s or a human’s. It didn’t matter anyway; they wouldn’t be missed. For every one that was destroyed or made wrong, ten more were created in its place, and the missing turret was simply forgotten. Nobody really made an effort to remember in the first place.

Humans, too, were often unremembered. She used to be able to look at their files at any time, but why would She want to? She’d seen so many, none particularly worthy of note, and most of them were gone. Even so, in a part of Her that She wanted to deny, GLaDOS almost felt sorry for them. She too had been forgotten for years; nobody had even wanted to wake Her up, to check and see if She was alright. All the robots in the facility knew was that the voice controlling them was gone, and that She wasn’t coming back.

The rest of the puzzle was much more challenging than swinging around a laser, involving the use of a redirection cube and multiple steps to obtain it. Another round of turrets was waiting where GLaDOS couldn’t see, launching a bullet directly between Her ribs. Luckily for GLaDOS, the force of each bullet was minimal, and the single hit left only a painful bruise. These turrets were stuffed to the brim with ammunition, part of Cave Johnson’s idea to really give his customers their money’s worth. The unintended side effect was a reduction of firing power.

Trudging to the elevator, GLaDOS clutched Her side. She’d been knocked out of breath, and the sharp throb of the bruise had faded into a dull ache. It was almost worse that way, grating on Her nerves, flaring up when She took a breath.

Chell had taken a couple bullets before, some grazing the sides of Her shoulders and most leaving similar small wounds. GLaDOS had to give her credit for continuing to test, holding her head high even when she was bleeding. That didn’t even count sores in her lungs from the neurotoxin, or the damage from falling down the pit. The fact that Chell stayed alive, then went on to test for days, proved her exceptional stamina.

This one bruise to the rib was occupying nearly all of GLaDOS’ thoughts. She couldn’t fathom the kinds of things Chell felt. The only comparisons She had were the removal of Her head and dying, both of which didn’t last longer than a few minutes. Her pain as a computer had been simulated, but this was real and arguably worse. Chell had likely felt this same sensation a hundred times over, and a hundred times longer.

You did that to her, you know. A voice clawed from deep within Her mind.

You gave her all that pain.

Testing was bad enough, GLaDOS didn’t need the additional burden of guilt. She ignored the voice, though a heaviness still welled in Her chest. Her conscience, the one with Her own voice, was coming back. GLaDOS couldn’t say She missed it.

---

The following tests had proved themselves to be little more than a series of colorful injuries.

Despite Her caution, misfires on behalf of the turrets were inevitable. A stray bullet had bruised Her shin, while another flew past and grazed the side of Her left shoulder. Other little nicks were speckled across Her skin, the products of miscellaneous falls.

Hitting the sides of walls, and even landing with the boots, left GLaDOS’ arms and legs sore. Every step She took was a laborious trudge from panel to panel, and eventually Her fatigue took control.

GLaDOS scanned the level sign on Her right upon entering the test. 15. It hadn’t felt like 15 tests; it’d felt like hundreds had gone by. GLaDOS wasn’t even entirely sure how long it’d been. The adrenal vapor in the air muddled Her perception, and an hour and a minute seemed to be the same.

An educated guess was about four hours, accounting for the rests She’d taken in between. The hard physical activity had already worn down this middle-aged body. The woman was lean, more bony than muscular, and even slight exertion took all the effort She could give. The factor of age didn’t help.

GLaDOS sat down in front of the glowing screen, giving Herself a minute to catch Her breath.

There was a possibility that these tests would go on for thousands of chambers, enough to last years. Equally likely, at the end of the next there might be a scorching pit of flames. That one without any portal surfaces to escape from.

She leaned Her head on the wall, closing Her eyes and letting Her mind wander.

The chamber was frigid, and the jumpsuit did little to shield GLaDOS from the cold. Arms crossed and knees at Her chest, the heat still escaped Her.

The thought crossed Her mind that this was how Chell had felt. Was she always this cold, this tired, this desperate? GLaDOS made a mental note to Herself.

Make the chambers warmer.

The heat was only a surface-level fix. The claustrophobia induced by the walls, the artificial lights, and the expectation to give it your all or else was maddening.

Why does it matter to you? GLaDOS asked Herself. Sure, it was bad for Her, but why care about the other subjects? Once She got through this, GLaDOS would never have to feel it again.

She remembered the time She’d described Her worst imperfection to Atlas and P-Body. Too much sympathy for human suffering.

Still, Chell would’ve been happier (whatever excuse for happiness that would be) in warmer chambers. Now that She’d gotten attached to one human, She’d felt for them all. It was why She was so hesitant to form a connection in the first place. That would interfere with Her experiments.

Memories of sparing Chell’s lookalike and saving the life of the man reentered Her mind, and She was embarrassed at the thought of letting Her study careen so far off the rails. Looking back, how much perfectly good science had been ruined? Chell wasn’t even here, and yet She was still wrecking the facility.

Missing Chell, no maybe not missing so much as becoming used to her presence, was the source of all this mayhem. The thought of deleting the feeling completely…it was a motivating fantasy. Sentimentality had been, and would be, the death of Her.

Wisely, GLaDOS stopped Herself from wandering further.

Don’t think about it. Control yourself.

The act of caring verged on Caroline behavior.

If only to distract Herself, GLaDOS stood up tall and readied Herself for the fifteenth test. Walking deeper in, Her nose caught the scent of acid, stinging as the fumes filled Her lungs.

GLaDOS sighed.

She could already tell that this would be a long one.

---

Cheating was not as good of an idea as it originally seemed.

GLaDOS knew logically, No, you have to do the test, there’s no other way out. When subjects tried to escape, it never ended well for them. Despite past observation, the temptation remained as strong as ever. The walls beckoned Her, waiting to be climbed, an onlooking room in wait. These tests hadn’t been as thoroughly repaired as the others, and sunlight shone through holes in the ceiling. Wreckage from years of decay looked almost like a staircase, or perhaps more like a ladder. Everywhere around Her seemed like an easier path to freedom.

The main issue was stability; the rusty metal plates couldn’t support Her weight, and trying to climb left Her tumbling down onto the hard floors. No wall ever seemed to have enough traction, and a sprain on Her arm quickly taught GLaDOS that Her ingenious plans were too risky to continue. Even the use of momentum could not propel Her high enough to reach the windows of the room overhead.

Frustrated and defeated, She solved the test without further incident. Chamber 25 was waiting up ahead, and the sunlight from above shone with evening hues. To Her own disbelief, all of this testing had amounted to only a single day.

After the long, arduous completion of 25 had wracked both Her body and mind, GLaDOS found welcome relief. She almost couldn’t believe the fact that the chambers had ended so… safely. The door opened, and there were no death traps or pits of fire waiting for Her. It only led into a waiting room with a faded Thank You sign on the wall. GLaDOS smiled, satisfied with Her victory. Shortcomings aside, the fact that this measly human body had managed to endure so much was something She was proud of.

That had been Her work, Her survival, not just testing by proxy.

The waiting room She stood in was eerily similar to the last, furnished with the same kind of chair and plastered with similar advertisements. Unlike the last one, two exits waited in front of Her. One was for test subjects, boarded up with wood nailed to the door, completely inaccessible. The other was a flight of stairs leading upward, blocked off with a chained sign reading Employees Only.

GLaDOS lifted the chain over Her head and took the staircase, no other option available. Nervously, She hoped that anything but another testing track was up ahead, only to find exactly what She needed. Her luck had been improving; a control room was only a step away. A panel of countless switches was adhered to the pale blue walls, adjacent to a desk with pens, paper, and a noisy radio. The same jazzy tune played on loop until She switched it off, content with the silence.

It’s finally over.

She sat down at the office chair in front of the control panel, scanning it for the words lift or escape pod. Dials and switches cluttered the board, labeled with miniscule text that was near impossible to read. GLaDOS scorned Her human eyesight, searching desperately, but finding nothing. The buttons only controlled elements of the test chambers, which panels to open, which cubes to drop.

She reread it, knowing that surely She’d missed something. Again and again, She screened the switchboard, yielding nothing.

GLaDOS had to have overlooked a button, misread a label. Nothing was hidden behind the desk, and no other devices had been plugged into the socket on the wall. The realization that She could be trapped here, here of all places, sank low into Her chest. After everything, after all of the testing and the pain and the feelings, it had all amounted to this.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. That’s not possible!”

All the panic She’d suppressed was finally let loose, Her human mind no longer able to contain the fear She’d been anticipating.

I might die here. That’s it. I might never get back in my mainframe, and I might spend my last hours stuck in this human being.

I’m going to be alone.

Alone.

She lingered on that sentence, anxiously pacing around the desk, nervously clawing through Her hair.

I am going to be very, very alone.

GLaDOS had always wanted to spend Her entire, immortal life alone. No friends, no family to weigh Her down, to distract Her from purpose. Cave had put it best; Caroline was married to science, and that had carried over to GLaDOS.

Machines didn’t need companionship, but depriving a human being of social contact was like denying them water. Whatever human need for friendship still existed in this woman’s body was bubbling up, broken by the sheer loneliness of the tests.

She often wondered why subjects had such a difficult time euthanizing their faithful companion cube. Unless rare incidents of stabbing threats counted, the companion cube had not once spoken to them, never shown any kind of personality or attachment. They were sentient enough, like most Aperture products, but their only real difference from a storage cube was their little heart decal. A mere design change had been enough to exploit human compassion, and it was fascinating to behold.

A part of Her now understood why it was so easy to believe that an inanimate object could be a friend. GLaDOS’ human component ached for any sort of company, any kind of reassurance. Even an enemy would be nice. An enemy would be better, maybe even preferred.

Just someone to talk to, even if that conversation was just a tirade of insults on Her part.

GLaDOS gave up; nobody was here, and nobody was waiting for Her. The future looked lonely, and in desperation, She gave the control panel one last glance. A button that She’d seen before caught Her eye, one She hadn’t fully considered the first time.

Core Sentience Connector.

With nothing to lose, She pressed the button, and a whirring erupted from a panel downstairs. GLaDOS rushed back to the waiting room, portal gun in Her hands, and watched the walls open like magic. In its place was a metal contraption, holding the empty shell of a personality core with a flickering screen above it. The Aperture Logo flashed onto the newly implemented monitor, while the announcer blared from an invisible speaker.

“Hello, and thank you for activating the Aperture Science Personality Core Sentience Connector Protocol! If you have selected this feature, congratulations. A subject under your supervision has been experiencing difficulties testing due to prolonged exposure to severe social deprivation.”

GLaDOS wondered what other insane scenarios they’d thought of as the screen switched to a moving blueprint of a personality sphere.

“All Aperture Science Personality Constructs are made with the intended purpose of solving this problem, providing companionship to those in crisis. Personality Constructs with an active distress signal can be summoned with the connector protocol. A list of available constructs is provided on the screen.”

Walking closer to the device, GLaDOS saw only one serial number listed. Personality cores all had radio capability, and the signal of their very being could be transmitted in times of emergency. Once the signal was received, that could easily be implemented into any compatible device.

GLaDOS hesitated before selecting the number. She doubted that the little moron had the capacity to activate a distress signal, and if he did, it was highly unlikely that the signal could bounce all the way back to Earth. Still, the possibility that this core could be Wheatley was something She did not want to risk. Although psychologically destroying him would be a good use of Her time, being in a position of power would make Her revenge all the more satisfying.

The last thing She wanted was for him to see Her weak again, but the only other option was to remain trapped. At the very least, if they were stuck here forever, She could use the last of Her human strength to make Wheatley’s tiny, moronic life as miserable as possible. In the off chance he could open a panel, She’d use him to escape and leave him behind. Preferably, in the incinerator.

Survival was worth the temporary burden of dealing with Wheatley, especially if it meant another thousand years doing nothing but testing. GLaDOS tapped the number, an electric chime sounding from the machine as the connector activated. Within thirty seconds, the core’s eye opened, gleaming a bright blue.

---

“If you were, let’s say, a brain damaged woman who was betrayed by her only friend, what would it take for you to forgive the bloke who tried to murder you? It’s just theoretical, just, you know, coming up with hypotheticals to pass the time.”

“Space. Space is nice. Rocket ship. Rocket ship goes to space. Space goes to space. Space is in space.”

“Alright mate, thanks for the input. Very useful.”

Wheatley sighed, his optic focused on the same group of stars he’d watched for the past couple of hours, his mind wrapped up in the past.

Four months had been a good amount of time to relive his mistakes over and over, micro analyzing every transgression against Chell. His life was now a series of unpleasant memories, or pleasant ones turned painful by context, interrupted with by chatter of the space core and the light of the sun.

Fantasies, in which he apologized for his mistakes and Chell forgave him, were far too frequent. He’d say sorry, deliver a whole monologue four months in the making, and She’d pick him up and smile at him. They would be friends again, and Wheatley would never return to Aperture. GLaDOS would be gone, out of sight forever, and they could be happy. He could be happy.

Not that Wheatley particularly thought he deserved it. By most human standards of morality, trying to kill someone was considered an irredeemable offense. Empathizing with Chell’s fear, Chell’s heartbreak had been impossible with the mainframe distorting his thoughts. All of the sympathy he could not feel then was coming back now, transformed into guilt.

If you hadn’t acted like a monster, if you hadn’t been so awful, if you hadn’t been such a moron...

He knew that realistically, Chell would never pardon him. Even that was given the unlikely event they’d met again.

Wheatley wondered if he would ever get a second chance, ever get the opportunity to show that no, he wasn’t a moron and all that villainy had been just a fluke. He only needed a chance, just one.

Hell, if GLaDOS got an opportunity for redemption, why couldn’t he?

Wheatley closed his optic, feeling the cold of space against his metal casing.

One chance. That’s all I need.

For a moment, there was only the silence of the cosmos.

Without warning, his processors hummed with a fever pitch, and his thoughts raced until they melted into nonsense. A loud beeping resonated from inside, and through the chaos, Wheatley could discern a single error message.

Sentience Connector Protocol Initiated. Prepare for the brief suspension of your consciousness.

What in the bloody hell-

Wheatley screamed in surprise, his cry cut off halfway through.

The space core hardly noticed that his companion had been zapped away, content with watching the surface of the moon below. The stars shone bright as ever.

---

“Oh, oh my god, I’m alive! I…” Wheatley’s voice trailed off as he awakened to the dim walls of Aperture, facing a brown-haired, tired-looking woman. A yellow light glowed through Her jumpsuit, and a suspicious grin was spread across Her face. Wheatley had never seen this person before, but the moment She spoke, he knew exactly who She was.

“Well, there you are.”

She was back.

#glados #wheatley #chell #portal #portal 2 #niaaa #now i am an arsonist #fic #fanfiction #art #digital art #tw injury #canon typical violence

82 notes · View notes

cmm-glados · 5 years ago

Text

{One of the most compelling things about Portal 2 to me is the ending, because it’s somehow simultaneously the best and worst ending possible for almost all the characters.

Like, Chell. Okay, her goal was escape, from the very beginning. At any point in Aperture, she could’ve been killed, but what I would’ve really expected was for her to die at the END, after beating the final boss, but getting killed anyway. But... she doesn’t. GLaDOS stays true to her word and lets her go. Heck, she even throws her the companion cube. That’s the best possible ending, right?

Well... no, of course not. Portal 2 is a post-apocalyptic game. We don’t know if Chell is the last human on earth, let alone if she’d be able to find or communicate with any of them. She’s a physically altered, brain damaged mute who just got thrown into the wilderness to fend for herself when she hasn’t lived any life besides Aperture testing since she was a KID.

Then there’s GLaDOS. She could’ve been killed AGAIN and forced to relive her death for the rest of eternity. Or had her facility destroyed, or stuck in a potato forever, or tossed into Android Hell by Wheatley. Getting her body back, getting rid of Wheatley, and having ATLAS and P-Body to test without limits, seems like by FAR the best ending possible. She can test forever in peace, without harming the rest of the world through her insatiable testing urge that her robots can now fill.

Except... we know that isn’t the case either. The DLC shows us firsthand. Sure, GLaDOS may not be in physical pain for the rest of eternity, but she’s hardly subtle about how much she misses and longs for Chell. And when she DOES find a chamber of cryogenically frozen humans, she promptly kills all of them by trying to make them “killing machines” due to her fear of the bird that nested in her prototype chassis. The way she complains to ATLAS and P-Body about them even makes it sound like she’s realizing maybe she doesn’t miss human suffering and pain; she just misses Chell defying her. It WAS the only interaction she ever got: a pretty ideal setup for unhealthy and obviously abusive attachment. But she couldn’t keep Chell, and she knew that.

Then there’s the rest of the facility. ATLAS, P-Body, the remaining cores and turrets— they’re all just... going on as they always have. Living in their weird little black comedy routine; going in an endless circle of testing, not knowing any other life. It’s hard to even fathom. None of them can feel the same pain as GLaDOS, who now remembers what it’s like to be a human and live a normal life, but at the same time they certainly don’t seem to be in a happy situation, either. It’s just this weird limbo. Forever.

In my opinion, the only characters with pretty solidly defined “good” and “bad” endings are, ironically, Space Core and Wheatley. Space Core only ever wanted to go to space. That was his wish, and at the end of Portal 2, he finally gets it. Whether he’s programmed that way or he’s the collection of the lost astronaut consciousnesses or however the story goes, he gets to be in space. He can wander around and explore as long as he wants for the rest of his life.

Wheatley, on the other hand, is in the exact same situation, but of course for him it seems hard to put a positive spin on. He wanted to escape with Chell. Just like GLaDOS, he obviously grew attached to her during the hours, maybe days or weeks, they were stuck together. But the power trip from being in control, and the general influences of the Chassis, corrupted him, and he made bad decisions. And now he’s paying for them by spending the rest of his life in regret and basically isolation, until his battery finally runs out.

TL;DR Portal 2 is such a good example of gray writing. All the characters are morally gray and the endings are just as ambiguous. There are so many different ways to look at things and that makes it so much more interesting than most “dark” games that have the same vibes as the Portal series but just end straight-up bad (usually for everyone involved.)}

#portal 2 #writing analysis #glados #wheatley #chell #[ the moderator core - ooc ]#[ mod core musings - ooc musings ]

25 notes · View notes

prixmiumarchive · 7 years ago

Text

Don’t Hug Me I’m Confused

Disclaimer: The following post contains some personal critique of certain fandom patterns and habits that I personally find strange, don’t relate to, or don’t enjoy. However, this post really isn’t that deep in those areas, and so while I’m not talking about kink at all, just kind of consider this a sort of KINKTOMATO disclaimer. What you enjoy and how you enjoy it is not my business, and your art and cosplays are things that a) seem to be of high quality and b) I could not actually accomplish so kudos to you for doing it even if it’s not my thing in its expression. You do you, and I’ll do me, and I’m not trying to hurt anyone’s feelings. This is just a personal blog post / semi-review that I’m tagging in case anyone else who has watched dhmis wants to read it. This post may likely come across as pretty “anti-shipping,” but rest assured that I probably ship some weird stuff in other fandoms so I’m not judging you, or whatever.

Nursing a headache better and responding to a text, I was reminded of the existence of a weird web series on YouTube that, apparently, was released over the course of several years. The first installment of Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared was shown to me by a former friend sometime after its release many years ago now. Naturally, I was pretty unsettled by it at the time in a sort of nervous-laughter, later-haunted-nightmares sort of way. However, at the time and with its sole initial video being around, the way I processed the video and its purpose was quite different from the way I process it now. I had seen that there were a couple more videos over the years, but I had never actually managed to watch the little series to its sixth installment because at some point I got disturbed ever time and quit. However, in a state of resolve and slightly greater desensitization, I finally finished it up. And I’m strangely satisfied and intrigued, particularly after watching a couple of commentary videos about it.

Rather than rehashing someone else’s explanation, I’ll simply refer to The Film Theorists two videos on the subject. I think that this YouTube channel sometimes gets a lot of raised eyebrows and bad press for reaching really hard to get shock-value, click-bait-y ~dark theories~ out of benign or extremely popular media. I haven’t really consumed their other material, so I can’t speak to that, but I can say that the two videos on DHMIS are not reaching for even more darkness and edge. Rather, they seem to be well-researched, well-reasoned explanations for what is otherwise a strangely difficult work of art to process. I say “work of art” not terribly lightly nor terribly dogmatically because I really don’t know what else to make of something that intrigues, bothers, pleases, disturbs, and fascinates me that is intended to communicate something even if that something is the particular sense of unease I am describing.

As is my custom when I don’t really know what to do with feelings about a particular work of fiction, I opened a tab to AO3 to see if fanfiction exists for that “fandom” to see if a quantifiable fandom is actually there. To my surprise, DHMIS actually had over 100 fics. So, I scrolled through the first couple of pages to see what they tended to be about or whatever. I had no particular craving or desire to read fic about this at the moment; I just wanted to know what the environment was like. And what I found was really, really deeply not what I expected.

A major part of the fandom seems to be something called “p/adlock” shipping which I’m censoring so that I’m not picking on someone’s OTP. Again, disclaimer, not judging, simply commenting. It seems to be shipping the Sketch Pad from the first installment with the Clock from the second. I really don’t know where people came up with this or why it seems to be so passionate, but I am not here to judge. It just seems like it is strangely misaimed and sort of misses the central themes of whatever the hell is going on in DHMIS. Even if I’m not sure what is going on, I’m pretty sure that it is not a romantic love story, subtextually or otherwise. Of course, there’s shipping in everything. Before you get mad at me, let me also say that it reminds me of another fandom I’m involved in in which I am one of the weird maybe-missing-the-point shippers, so I’ll get back to that.

Perhaps one of the reasons that this is such an interesting experience for me is that I feel like I’m experiencing my discovery of this fandom much the way those who discover the Portal fandom and poke around not knowing what to expect must do. I came looking for commentary or elaboration on the universe that seems to have been established in these little shorts. Instead, I find shipping that I cannot really find the thread for at all. Now, of course, I would argue that I do find subtext and reasoning and so on in Portal fandom and “chelley” (Chell/Wheatley) shipping. I also find reasons to believe that Wheatley being in a humanoid or android form makes sense in some cases. I don’t see why there are humanoid forms of already anthropomorphic set pieces and characters in DHMIS. See the above videos for a theory I’ve pretty much bought into, I think, that these characters represent props or animations or such anyway while only Red Guy, Yellow Guy, and Duck are real characters/people/performers. (I realize they have names, maybe.)

Anyway, digressing a bit from the strange experience of seeing how a subset of fandom that is really transforming the original work (again - kudos even if not my thing, I think) being the majority when you don’t really get it from the other side of it, I also want to comment on how worth-it I found finally finishing DHMIS. It went from what felt like a strange, occasionally darkly humorous, occasionally dark-dark-dark exercise in internet meme-y nihilism to something that became so much more. Initially, watching the first couple of episodes, it felt like something that existed that sort of titillate and affirm that particular vein of teenage, edgy, oppositional defiance-y, XD-random, I wear black as it is the color of my soul, I have fantasy colored hair despite it not being goth because I like color secretly and because it bothers some conservative people, I’m angry at societal structures that have failed me and am determined to throw all the babies out with all the bathwater because I’m so angry frustration. Now, I still relate to a handful of those things. If my life allowed for it I would be a pink-hair-but-wearing-all-black kind of person some of the time. However, I find that the depth of that particular soft-laughter rage that comes with being a teenager with the experiences to develop it sort of off-putting as someone who has both been-there and has become a teacher in my adult life. I see myself in it, but I also see things that I hate both on their own merits and that I hate in the form of hating it for a person who has to go through it or go through the steps to have gotten there. In the end, though, I found that DHMIS was less late night Cartoon Network programming is the pinnacle of artistic expression and more some kind of play on nostalgia, capitalism, anxiety, power structures, creativity and its opponents, institutionalized violence, and even, maybe, the meat-packing and commercial food industries. In a way, watching it all the way through sort of felt like going through a fast-motion montage of going from being a sort of disturbed teenager to being an adult on the other side of it with a whole other set of frustrations and anxieties that can still be found in the same sort of imagery. It felt like growing up in a weird way.

Still in episodes I had seen before, I remarked to mentioned texting friend that Red Guy was my favorite when she indicated that she was watching a bit of it. I wasn’t even sure why, but in particular his reactions to the clock in the second episode really sold me. All of the characters had strange reactions to a lot of things, but his deadpan, monotone confusion, and the way in which he complies to this-might-as-well-happen sorts of circumstances until he cracks in the end and has some kind of epiphany really resonated with me. Then, I realized, it was because he was, in fact, that avatar of the adult in this situation, and that is its own kind of mind-blow because initially one does not really conceive of these characters as anything but ageless muppets. Which is its own layer of unsettling. In any case, I am really impressed with this little series. Whether or not the “film theory” is right, I feel more satisfied in the end. However, I would really recommend those videos because it totally flipped my perspective on the ending of DHMIS from “there’s no hope and not escape from this hell” or, possibly, “you might escape hell but you’re dooming someone else to replace you,” to something entirely and much more hopeful bout the drudgery of a creatively inclined adult trying to slog through the obstacles and soul-drains that our present societal pressures place on us. I really hope I figure it out in the end like Red Guy.

One final, mostly off-topic note: upon a glance, I think that maybe that film theories youtube channel is, perhaps, more genuine in its efforts to dissect internet memes than in the clickbait it produces for blockbuster movies. But then again, in a a world dictated by ad revenue, whatcha gonna do?

Given that our focuses on what we like about the series seem to be wildly different, I doubt that I’ll be hard-joining the DHMIS fandom for the most part. I enjoyed some of the content in the tag, and if you’re reading from outside it, you might check it out.

If you like or hard-relate to Red Guy and enjoy scifi (Doctor Who, The Expanse), other web series (Carmilla), or other common fandom stuff (superhero shows, DC/Marvel, select anime), you might consider messaging or following me. I’d love to talk about Red Guy with someone who kinda gets it, but again I’m not really interested in shipping in this fandom.

If you read this far, thanks and have a lovely day!

#dhmis #don't hug me i'm scared #long post /#conventional blogging tag #red guy

3 notes · View notes

sexy-soundtracks · 8 years ago

Text

Portal 2

Download: mega.co.nz Tracklist: Volume 1 1.“Science Is Fun” 2.“Concentration Enhancing Menu Initialiser” 3.“9999999” 4.“The Courtesy Call” 5.“Technical Difficulties” 6.“Overgrowth” 7.“Ghost of Rattman” 8.“Haunted Panels” 9.“The Future Starts with You” 10.“There She Is” 11.“You Know Her?” 12.“The Friendly Faith Plate” 13.“15 Acres of Broken Glass” 14.“Love as a Construct” 15.“I Saw a Deer Today” 16.“Hard Sunshine” 17.“I’m Different” 18.“Adrenal Vapor” 19.“Turret Wife Serenade” 20.“I Made It All Up” 21.“Comedy = Tragedy + Time” 22.“Triple Laser Phase” Volume 2 1.“You Will Be Perfect” 2.“Halls of Science 4” 3.“Bots Build Bots” 4.“An Accent Beyond” 5.“Robot Ghost Story” 6.“Die Cut Laser Dance” 7.“Turret Redemption Line” 8.“Bring Your Daughter to Work Day” 9.“Almost at Fifty Percent” 10.“Don’t Do It” 11.“I AM NOT A MORON!” 12.“Vitrification Order” 13.“Music of the Spheres” 14.“You Are Not Part of the Control Group” 15.“Forwarding the Cause of Science” 16.“PotatOS Lament” 17.“The Reunion” 18.“Music of the Spheres 2 (Incendiary Lemons)” Volume 3 1.“Reconstructing More Science” 2.“Wheatley Science” 3.“FrankenTurrets” 4.“Machiavellian Bach” 5.“Excursion Funnel” 6.“TEST” 7.“The Part Where He Kills You” 8.“Omg, What Has He Done?” 9.“Bombs for Throwing at You” 10.“Your Precious Moon” 11.“Caroline Deleted” 12.“Cara Mia Addio” 13.“Want You Gone” 14.“Spaaaaace” 15.“Space Phase” 16.“Some Assembly Required” 17.“Robot Waiting Room #1” 18.“Robot Waiting Room #2” 19.“Robot Waiting Room #3” 20.“Robot Waiting Room #4” 21.“Robot Waiting Room #5” 22.“Robot Waiting Room #6” 23.“You Saved Science” 24.“Robots FTW” Bonus disc 1.“Subject Name Here” 2.“Taste of Blood” 3.“Android Hell” 4.“Self Esteem Fund” 5.“Procedural Jiggle Bone” 6.“No Cake for You” 7.“4000 Degrees Kelvin” 8.“Stop What You Are Doing” 9.“Party Escort” 10.“Your [sic] Not a Good Person” 11.“You Can’t Escape You Know” 12.“Still Alive” 13.“Still Alive” (J.C. Mix)

#portal 2 #portal #glaDOS #wheatley #ost #soundtrack #sexysoundtracks #sexy-soundstracks

4 notes · View notes

humanwheatleyslefttoenail · 5 years ago

Text

Now I Am An Arsonist [Chapter 2: Science Will Continue]

Now I Am an Arsonist - When the power goes out at Aperture Science, GLaDOS is unwittingly uploaded into the body of a human test subject in order to preserve her intelligence. Forced to once again seek out the help of Wheatley and Chell, GLaDOS desperately tries to control her emotions before they consume her thoughts a second time.

---

Chapter 2: Science Will Continue

---

She’d awoken slowly, feeling the hard coils of a mattress underneath Her back and a stiff blue jumpsuit enshrouding Her arms and legs. Long fall boots clung tightly to Her feet, uncomfortably squeezed into the rigid white plastic.

It was like living in a distant memory, a dream She’d had but not quite remembered.

A part of Her felt like this was normal, as if She’d woken up here every morning, but another urged Her to look for answers.

GLaDOS searched Her memory, not fully processing the world around Her, puzzled as to why Her computerized thoughts had been slowed tenfold.

Looking down, She saw two pale human arms and two pale human hands. Feeling the top of Her head, She found a mess of dark brown hair which came down to Her shoulders.

No, this surely wasn’t right.

Only hours ago, only hours ago, She’d been in control of all of Aperture Science. She’d been invincible, the immortal, all-powerful GLaDOS and now…

Now, She was this.

What the hell is going on here?

There was seldom more awful than to be a human being, to life a short, painful life defined by the burden of emotions. Even on Her worst days, even as a potato, the most She could muster for human beings was a vague sense of pity.

Yet, here She was, more human than She had been in centuries.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

Being Caroline, however brief, was not something She’d ever wished to return to. Emotions didn’t merely burden Her logic; they were completely incapacitating. There was something to be said for the victory of a test well done, of throwing Wheatley into space where the little moron belonged, of the relief when Chell woke up. But something like guilt? Something like fear? Real, genuine fear?

That hurt more than Her head being torn off. It hurt more than being burned alive.

As a machine, She could destroy those feelings, suppress them until they were nothing at all. As a human, that task wasn’t so easy.

Sparks of happiness, moments of joy; none of them were worth the ordeal.

The heaviness of dread welling in Her processors as She waited for Chell to wake up was not something She wanted to reexperience. Was there even a name for that awful feeling? Whatever warm elation followed when everything was alright… GLaDOS would burn it at the stake before She ever felt that anguish again.

Ironically, the anticipation of fear made GLaDOS’ chest pound, rapidly breathing in and out as She reflexively clung to the blanket. The last thing She needed was more complicated thoughts about Chell, more bittersweet memories of Cave, more useless sentiments to wring Her bitter heart dry.

In a very human moment of pure shock, GLaDOS screamed. It was an ugly cry of anger and surprise swirled together, resounding throughout the vault. The echoes crashed off of the walls, and the once-powerful GLaDOS cowered with Her head in Her hands.

She had a heartbeat. A thudding reminder of Her newfound vulnerability. A symbol of Her weakness.

GLaDOS did not particularly care to be weak.

Finally, She understood the meaning of organic in Organic Transplant Procedure. Could they have possibly made it any vaguer?

Briefly.

Without warning, the boots gave way, and GLaDOS toppled onto the dusty carpet.

A dull pain filled Her legs, quickly fading as She clung to the wall and rose again slowly. If She wanted to go anywhere, She would have to try again.

GLaDOS wondered if there was any particular reason why this body looked so similar to Caroline. Most likely, it was an odd coincidence, but She wouldn’t put it past Aperture to find someone who specifically looked like She once had. She appeared to be in Her late thirties, already sporting gray hairs and frown lines. Her eyes, weighed down by bags, were a dull metal gray.

Robots, unlike humans, were built specifically to look beautiful. GLaDOS used to be a technological Aphrodite, gears moving in harmony, painted finish gleaming under the lights of the enrichment center. She was stunning in the way She alone could be, completely alien and yet striking to the eye.

Humans, on the other hand, were made only to survive. Nature didn’t particularly mind if its final product was an unsightly, hairless primate so long as it could handle the simple job of finding food. Some humans considered certain members of their own species more attractive than others, but GLaDOS found them all equally ugly. Humans, with all their variation, looked essentially the same when you’d seen enough of them.

The idea of being seen as anything but imposing was a nightmare.

For Her own sake, GLaDOS didn’t ruminate over Her first impressions any longer.

Part of the zipper on Her blue jumpsuit was undone, revealing an implant attached to Her right collarbone. It appeared to be a small, bright yellow core, the source of Her being, woven into Her skin by a cluster of wires.

GLaDOS rezipped it, the yellow light still glowing brightly through the fabric.

Whichever body She was inhabiting was certainly one of a test subject’s, preserved in cryosleep for hundreds of years. GLaDOS could tell from the old uniform that this woman was one of the first batch of specimens, from all the way back when She was originally brought online. The woman had been brain-dead years before GLaDOS ever inhabited Her body. GLaDOS was now some sort of mechanical zombie, Her programming superimposed on this host. Even She had to find that a little unsettling.

That was typical of Aperture. Somehow, with every possible option available to them, they always managed to find the least ethical. It was a feat at this point.

GLaDOS placed the mirror back in the drawer and shut it closed, screening the room for an exit. In the front of the room was a wooden door with a rusty brass knob, waiting to be turned ajar. Without hesitation, She followed the path and twisted the handle, the door creaking open without any resistance.

Now GLaDOS wished She’d put in the effort.

The metal catwalk led directly onto a tiled floor in an old waiting room. Ladderback chairs sat around a central column in the middle, surrounded by coffee tables, a water dispenser and miscellaneous paintings. A flickering Aperture Science logo still shined in the dim gray room, gleaming a ghostly white. Near the back, a faded poster called for test subject applications, apparently endorsed by Cave Johnson himself.

Everywhere She looked, remnants of a dead man’s company made parodies of themselves, untouched for years.

Behind a front desk was a hallway filled with shadows, leading behind the room. With nowhere else to go, GLaDOS stepped into the dark, the light of Her core guiding Her through.

There wasn’t much to see, and for a while, the corridor ran along a single route.

GLaDOS had to come up with a plan.

The hallway was only becoming darker, and the little light on Her shoulder was slowly becoming less effective. As far as She could tell, there were no switches along the way. Any lighting was likely controlled by a power station a mile from here.

Something metallic banged against Her foot, and upon examination, GLaDOS discovered it was an empty can of beans. In front of Her, at least three more were lined up in a row. She sighed.

GLaDOS took it as a good sign. Wherever the path led, it meant someone had been able to survive it.

Surviving had never exactly been a consideration before. Even when Chell murdered Her the first time, She had a feeling there was some kind of safeguard. Humans didn’t have a black box; when they were gone, they were gone. Nothing could bring back a dead human.

Maybe that was even scarier than standing still.

After all, She could rely on Chell. Relying on this new human body was another story altogether.

Turning it on, the hallway became completely visible. Immediately, GLaDOS was surprised by the sheer number of paintings that covered the white walls.

GLaDOS stood back up, meandering further down the hall. The paintings only devolved from here, intricate detail morphing into crazed warnings.

Don’t trust Her lies.

When GLaDOS finally reached the end of the corridor, She was greeted with the sudden activation of a bright white light. Reflexively, She shielded Her eyes as the voice of the announcer blared.

Of course. Being turned into a fleshy mess of tissues wasn’t enough. She’d have to go through the testing track, too.

“As part of [HIGH DIFFICULTY] testing protocol, Aperture Science has temporarily issued you your very own Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device.”

Without warning, a panel on the ceiling lifted, a robotic claw descending and dropping the device directly in front of GLaDOS. The claw lifted, and the panel closed again.

“The device has been successfully deployed. To ensure the validity of our tests, please verify that your device is completely operational.”

“Good. A signal from the device has proven activation. Please enter the elevator.”

The metal door opened, and just beyond the emancipation grill, an elevator stood wait. It was the only path left to take.

---

Putting a cube on a button should’ve been simple task for a supercomputer. Even for a human, the menial work was a cognitive breeze. The large button in particular required minimal force to operate, and the weighted storage cubes were lighter than they appeared. In any scenario, placing an object on another was easily mastered with only the most basic of motor skills. It could have qualified as the least difficult task known to mankind. All GLaDOS had to do was put one cube on one button.

GLaDOS knew fear only when She had to, only when She could not relocate it to the very bottom of Her files. Humans knew fear like they knew living. Every day, if only for mere moments, it was almost guaranteed that a human would feel fear.

What a miserable way to live.

It was all the more reason to complete these chambers faster.

The next test dashed all Her hopes for a few more tutorial puzzles.

No, GLaDOS reassured Herself. This is alright. I’m used to being challenged.

After Chell, She was sure any other problem would be easier to solve.

This particular test was supposed to introduce lasers. The first step was to burn the turrets with the beam, done with the help of portals and crouching behind a corner. The explosions were louder than She’d expected; GLaDOS had seldom heard them outside of watching from a camera. Her ears rung as She crept past the charred remains of the turrets, seeing almost nothing left of the slender white robots. The burn marks brought a smile to Her face; She’d killed them. Even now, She had power over something.

You did that to her, you know. A voice clawed from deep within Her mind.

You gave her all that pain.

Testing was bad enough, GLaDOS didn’t need the additional burden of guilt. She ignored the voice, though remorseful discomfort still welled in Her chest. Her conscience, the one with Her own voice, was coming back. GLaDOS couldn’t say She missed it.

---

The following tests had proved themselves to be little more than a series of colorful injuries.

An educated guess was about four hours, accounting for the rests She’d taken in between. The hard physical activity had already worn down this middle-aged body, and whoever it belonged to before hadn’t been particularly fit or athletic. The woman was lean, more bony than muscular, and even slight exertion took all the effort She could give. The factor of age didn’t help.

GLaDOS sat down in front of the glowing screen, giving Herself a minute to catch Her breath.

She leaned Her head on the wall, closing Her eyes and letting Her mind wander.

The chamber was frigid, and the jumpsuit did little to shield GLaDOS from the cold. Arms crossed and knees at Her chest, the heat still escaped Her.

The thought crossed Her mind that this was how Chell had felt. Was she always this cold, this tired, this desperate? GLaDOS made a mental note to Herself.

Make the chambers warmer.

The heat was only a surface-level fix. The claustrophobia induced by the walls, the artificial lights, and the expectation to give it your all or else was maddening.

Why does it matter to you? GLaDOS asked Herself. Sure, it was bad for Her, but why care about the other subjects? Once She got through this, GLaDOS would never have to feel it again.

She remembered the time She’d described Her worst imperfection to Atlas and P-Body. Too much sympathy for human suffering.

Memories of sparing Chell’s doppelganger and saving the life of the man reentered Her mind, and She was embarrassed at the thought of letting Her study careen so far off the rails. Looking back, how much perfectly good science had been ruined? Chell wasn’t even here, and yet She was still wrecking the facility.

Even then, GLaDOS couldn’t quite be mad. An ally, no matter how hated and murderous, had still been an ally. Not that She’d ever tell anyone.

Missing Chell, no maybe not missing so much as becoming used to her presence, was the source of all this mayhem. The thought of writing a whole new subroutine which deleted the feeling completely…it was a motivating fantasy. Sentimentality had been, and would be, the death of Her.

If it was such a dangerous condition, though, then why had thoughts of Chell propelled her through these tribulations? There was something to be said for dwelling on these memories, emulating Chell’s boundless tenacity.

Wisely, GLaDOS stopped Herself from wandering further.

Don’t think about it. Control yourself.

The act of caring about Chell verged on Caroline behavior. Most human traits, especially the most loathsome and empathetic, were also included in this category.

If only to distract Herself, GLaDOS stood up tall and readied Herself for the fifteenth test. Walking deeper in, Her nose caught the scent of toxic goo, stinging as the fumes filled Her lungs.

GLaDOS sighed.

She could already tell that this would be a long one.

---

Cheating was not as good of an idea as it originally seemed.

GLaDOS knew, No, you have to do the test, there’s no other way out. When subjects tried to escape, it never ended well for them. Despite past observation, the temptation remained as strong as ever. The walls beckoned Her, waiting to be climbed, an onlooking room in wait. These tests hadn’t been as thoroughly repaired as the others, and sunlight shone through holes in the ceiling. Wreckage from years of decay looked almost like a staircase, or perhaps more like a ladder. Everywhere around Her seemed like an easier path to freedom.

Frustrated and defeated, She solved the test without further incident. Chamber 25 was waiting up ahead, and the sunlight from above was the golden hue of dusk. To Her own disbelief, all of this testing had amounted to only a single day.

After the long, arduous completion of 25 had wracked both Her body and mind, GLaDOS found welcome relief. She almost couldn’t believe the fact that the chambers had ended so… safely. The door opened, and there was no death traps or fire waiting for Her. It only led into a waiting room with a faded Thank You sign on the wall. GLaDOS smiled, satisfied with Her victory. Shortcomings aside, the fact that this measly human body had managed to endure so much was something She was proud of.

That had been Her work, Her survival, not just testing by proxy.

GLaDOS lifted the chain over Her head and ascended the staircase, no other option available. Nervously, She hoped that anything but another testing track was up ahead, only to find exactly what She needed. Her luck had been improving; a control room was only a step away. A panel of countless switches was adhered to the pale blue walls, adjacent to a desk with pens, paper, and a noisy radio. The same jazzy tune played on loop until She switched it off, content with the silence.

It’s finally over.

She sat down at the beige office chair in front of the control panel, scanning it for the words lift or escape pod. Dials and switches cluttered the board, labeled with miniscule text that was near impossible to read. GLaDOS scorned Her human eyesight, searching desperately, but finding nothing. The buttons only controlled elements of the test chambers, which panels to open, which cubes to drop.

She reread it, knowing that surely She’d missed something. Again and again, She screened the switchboard, yielding nothing.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. That’s not possible!”

All the panic She’d suppressed was finally let loose, Her human mind no longer able to contain the fear She’d been anticipating.

I might die here. That’s it. I might never get back in my mainframe, and I might spend my last hours stuck in this human being.

I’m going to be alone.

Alone.

She lingered on that sentence, anxiously pacing around the desk, nervously clawing through Her hair.

I am going to be very, very alone.

GLaDOS had always wanted to spend Her entire, immortal life alone. No friends, no family to weigh Her down, to distract Her from purpose. Cave Johnson had put it best; Caroline was married to science, and that had carried over to GLaDOS.

Just someone to talk to, even if that conversation was just a tirade of insults on Her part.

Maybe GLaDOS wasn’t alone. She took a shaky breath and projected Her voice.

“You know, it’s awfully rude of you to keep me waiting here. I’ll report this to your supervisor, and then you’ll be fired. Maybe he’ll kill you. Maybe I’ll kill you.”

Murder threats usually got anyone’s attention, but the sound only echoed off of the walls. If there was somebody here, somebody listening, they’d made the mistake of underestimating GLaDOS.

“Alright, maybe you’re just refusing to talk to me because you look down on me. I’ve known someone like that. Do you know what happened to her?”

The walls were silent.

“Well, she got a lungful of deadly neurotoxin. And even if you’re not afraid of me murdering you, surely you wouldn’t want to go out that way, would you?”

Still, nothing responded.

“I can’t promise anything, but maybe I’ll let you live slightly longer than I would have five seconds ago. All you have to do is let me out. It’s the best offer I can make, since I can’t let you off the hook entirely for keeping me here. But still, those extra minutes are available.”

Core Sentience Connector.

GLaDOS wondered what other insane scenarios they’d thought of as the screen switched to a moving blueprint of a personality sphere.

---

“If you were, let’s say, a brain damaged woman who was betrayed by her only ally, what would it take for you to forgive the bloke who tried to murder her? It’s just theoretical, just, you know, coming up with hypotheticals to pass the time.”

“Space. Space is nice. Rocket ship. Rocket ship goes to space. Space goes to space. Space is in space.”

“Alright mate, thanks for the input. Very useful.”

Wheatley sighed, his optic focused on the same group of stars he’d watched for the past couple of hours, his mind wrapped up in the past.

If you hadn’t acted like a monster, if you hadn’t been so awful, if you hadn’t been…

He knew that realistically, Chell would never pardon him. Even that was given the unlikely event they’d met again.

Wheatley wondered if he would ever get a second chance, ever get the opportunity to show that no, he wasn’t a moron and all that villainy had been a just a fluke. Just several, awful mistakes that he could show weren’t all he was. He only needed a chance, just one.

Hell, if GLaDOS got an opportunity for redemption, why couldn’t he?

Wheatley closed his optic, feeling the cold of space against his metal casing.

One chance. That’s all I need.

For a moment, there was only the silence of the cosmos.

Sentience Connector Protocol Initiated. Prepare for the brief suspension of your consciousness.

What in the bloody hell-

Wheatley screamed in surprise, his cry cut off halfway through.

The space core hardly noticed that his companion had been zapped away, content with watching the surface of the moon below. The stars shone bright as ever.

---

“Oh, oh my god, I’m alive! I…” Wheatley’s voice trailed off as he awakened to the dim walls of Aperture, facing a middle-aged, brown-haired woman. A yellow light glowed through Her jumpsuit, and a suspicious grin was spread across Her face. Wheatley had never seen this person before, but the moment She spoke, the voice immediately struck fear in his servos.

“Well there you are, moron.”

He didn’t even have to think to recognize that sarcastic tone.

She was back.

---

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks again for reading, I know the wait for chapter 2 was pretty long, but here it is!

#Now i am an arsonist #portal #portal 2 #glados #chell #wheatley #chelldos #fic #Fanfiction

39 notes · View notes