Cerulean

Trapped and Underwater

Chell's boots and the metal walkway echoed like a metronome with each step through the emptiness, one small tink after another. Though her pace was steady, she wasn't exactly running, at least not anymore. No need to when one didn't really know which way they should've been going.

She had been trekking for a while now, and was on a dim catwalk that looked like every other dim catwalk behind the panels of The Facility. Grey, lifeless, and most importantly, perfectly manufactured to be completely identical no matter where you were.

It wasn't so bad... if Chell didn't think about how she had almost been free if not for her conscience. Unlike GLaDOS unfortunately, she couldn't delete her own. She also didn't have a portal gun anymore, that was probably orbiting the earth by now. So, it actually was that bad. On the bright side, she wasn't in any immediate peril, which is just uncommon enough in her life to be considered a small victory.

All she needed was one little sign of familiarity, just so she could get her bearings. A room she'd tested in or a door with a sign she'd seen before would be enough. Her patience was exceptionally thin as she continued upon more of the same catwalk.

I hope she does get the chance to torture him just for a minute before I save him. It's only fair.

— — —

"I said, wake up."

The words were almost indecipherable, as if one was underwater, or trapped in a jar. He might not have even heard it, if not for the momentary-yet-agonizing pain that streaked through him. He twitched and let out a small yelp, noticing how muffled he sounded as well. Panic returned just as easily as consciousness did, and he forced his optic open.

Woah, that's quite a bit of depth perception I seem to have.

Wheatley first found that he was, in fact, both underwater and trapped in a jar. The only difference was that the jar was quite large, and the water wasn't water at all, but some strange gel with a slight blue tint to it. He was also greeted with the sickly yellow of Her optic, staring upon him maliciously.

"I'm actually a little surprised that worked. Pity you were unconscious through the entire process, but I'm honestly glad you aren't dead. Tell me, how do you feel?"

After the initial horror, Wheatley's mind quickly briefed him on how he got here. He was more than glad he hadn't become a new satellite orbiting earth, but he was not at all excited about what he saw before him.

What did she ask again..? Oh right, how do I feel..? Well to start, I feel terrified- definitely terrified. If emotions were ranked, terrified is at the top of the list right now. I feel completely trapped, I feel very strange and worst of all I feel... cold? Why would I.. How could I feel that?

He noted he also felt disproportionate, almost as if he had more mass about him. Had she transferred him to another core? Was his original too damaged? What happened?

"I don't expect you to respond, of course. Even if you weren't encased in glass, I'm sure you wouldn't have the mental capacity to process speaking with a mouth."

He twitched.

A mouth? Why would my new core have a need for a mouth? Bloody disgusting that is- I've no interest in humans' nasty habit of eating, and my old speaker was plenty fine, thank you-