Portal 3

Dark Secret

"Umm, ok, err..." Wheatley glanced around, "Yep, we are, er - utterly lost..." Chell peered around too. There was nothing she recalled of the place - completely uncharted territory. She wandered ahead. Neither of them could shake the feeling they were being watched. From the darkness, desperate music stole. Turrets. Neglected turrets. The duo pressed on. Darkness never seemed to fade away.

Somewhere far ahead, a door drifted into view. Where does that go? Thought Chell, hoping Wheatley might answer that question, albeit he couldn't read her mind. But he didn't. The little sphere barely spoke. A few seconds later, she heard him sigh.
"I... I'm sorry," Wheatley caught her eye, "I should have told you about Ian. Before we met him, just as a heads up... and before we tried to escape - er, you know..."
I know, She continued down the quiet, shadowy corridors. At the door, she carefully opened it, the light inside widening silt.
Chell's jaw dropped as Wheatley gazed into the room, "Oh... my... God..."

A catwalk hung high above a descent that curved off to somewhere. The catwalk went in four directions, from where they were to ahead, to the left and the right. Along the walls, was a set of four railings that followed the descent down, and upwards to a strange machine. Above, there was something that appeared to be a collection of pipes... or wires. Either which way, it had these ports for canisters, filling them up with something; a fluid of some sort that glimmered. Once one of these canisters was full, it was placed into the track along the wall, where it was automated to descend and curved around to who knows where.

"Wow..." Wheatley's cute voice echoed around before fading out. He waited for it to fade before continuing, "What IS this?"
Now that, I do not know... Chell stepped in, carefully shutting the door behind them. She peered at the machinery, busy on filling and removing the canisters. It was not in uniform fashion. One canister was taken out, as another was half full and a third had just been set in. So, they fill up at different rates. The two of them stood in the middle of the catwalk.
"Er, which way?" Wheatley asked her. He knew she wouldn't answer verbally, but wanted to ask out of chivalry. That Chell knew. She glanced to the end of each catwalk, a door at each one beckoning. Deciding on straight ahead, she went to the door and opened it. Wheatley looked into the room. "Whoa..."

This room appeared to be some sort of control room for the unidentified machinery. The sphere peered in, "What the...?" Three stations lined the walls, filled with buttons, dials, sliders and measurements. The office chairs were abandoned.
How old is this place? Chell stepped in, taking a look towards the measurements. They seemed to change in erratic patterns, dramatically changing in the blink of an eye.
"So, what we know is that, er, these fluids of some sort are being loaded up into canisters," He glanced from one shifting measurement to another, "But, we don't know why or what these are." Chell shrugged, careful while he was in her arms. "Worse, we don't know what she is using this for."

I think we seen all we can here, Chell carried Wheatley back onto the catwalk, We can always look back in if we need. She went to the door on the right side of exit, quietly opening it open.
"Wow...!" Wheatley glanced in, immediately noticing a large canister opposite them being held. Most likely, this one was a greater collector of the fluids and analysed samples. Taking an office chair, Chell sat down and placed Wheatley on the desk in an empty spot. "Can you get into the system? Or can you just accesses it or..."
I know how to get in, She looked to the monitor below. It displayed a detailed analysis of various chemicals within the sample. Dopamine, serotonin... peptides? Neurological chemicals. In simpler terms, the hormones flowing around a brain, amongst the electrical charges that fire to create memories and actions. Chell couldn't believe it, But these can't be hormones! Something surfaced in her own brain... a memory previously drowned in other neural patterns.