| Androids, and Mutants, and Cultists, Oh My! | |
|---|---|
| Season | 2 |
| Season Episode | 3 |
| Air date | 6/5/23 |
| Written by | ObsidianCrusader |
| Episode guide | |
| Previous Dragonborn vs Tiki |
Next Leif vs Link |
GLaDOS vs The Master is a What-If? Death Battle written by ObsidianCrusader, featuring GLaDOS from the Portal franchise and the Master from Fallout. Combatants also include Aperture Science with ATLAS, P-body, & Wheatley, and the Unity with "Lou-Tenant," Morpheus, and Harry.
Description[]
Portal vs Fallout. A battle between those whose humanity was stripped away and replaced with an undying ideal and desire for progress. With their minions at their side, whose will shall triumph? Will GLaDOS show Richard who the real Master is? Or will she be wasted?
Interlude[]
Wiz: Many of us would be completely incapable of imagining what it would be like to suddenly find that everything about yourself had changed. That everything that had made you human could be ripped away in an instant, leaving you a husk of what you once were.
Boomstick: Wiz, I'm pretty sure that's called "puberty." But hey, appearances ain't everything! And these two are more than eager to show the world their own idealized version of humanity!
Wiz: GLaDOS, the murderous AI overseer of Aperture Science from Portal.
Boomstick: And The Master! The original Super Mutant and founder of the Unity from Fallout. He's Wiz and I'm Boomstick.
Wiz: And it's our job to analyze their weapons, armor, and abilities to see who would win...a Death Battle!
"GLaDOS Tests Her Metal in DEATH BATTLE!"[]
(Cue: "9999999")
Wiz: The story of Aperture Science is a dark one. Founded by Cave Johnson in 1947 and originally a shower-curtain manufacturer of all things, it would hit its financial stride as it began to delve into experimental physics.
Boomstick: And what a stride it was! See, the company's lifeblood was its test-subjects to try out all the fancy new devices and inventions brewed up in that charismatic noggin of Cave's. And using the savings from his oddly successful shower-curtain venture, the company was ridin' high! Bein' able to afford the best and brightest the world had to offer! We're talkin' astronauts, Olympic athletes! War heroes! Heheh...when things start off like this, you know things are 'boutta get real bad real quick.
Wiz: While the exact methods used in the first tests are unknown, as most of the old testing grounds have been long-left in a state of disrepair by the modern day, we do know the ethics of these tests were...questionable, to say the least. With different mixtures of gels seemingly all of which being immensely hazardous to the health of those involved, a staggering degree of lethal drops into the vast cave system the facility was constructed on, and—
Boomstick: Complimentary gene-mutation! Screw your free-sample table or smiley-face stickers; most test-subjects could be guaranteed they'd be walkin' out with a little more than they bargained for! Sure, most people dropped dead from sheer mutilation, but maybe...just maybe...you'd get some sweet superpowers out of it!
Wiz: Ahem...A majority of test-subjects used in Aperture's experiments would not survive, and though for a time Aperture would remain popular with the American people, Senate hearings in 1968 revolving around a group of missing astronauts would plunge Aperture into bankruptcy. Though the company somehow remained intact, the days of its worldwide celebrity status were over.
Boomstick: But you know Cave! When life gives him lemons, he makes headlines! ...Headlines usually involvin' large-scale, lemon-themed arson.
Wiz: Aperture would go on to lure the homeless and vagrancy to act as test-subjects. When they had run out, they switched to using employees as test-subjects.
Boomstick: Great for makin' sure your results ain't skewed by silly li'l frivolities like ethics or morality. Kinda sucky when trying to...y'know...keep folks workin' for ya. And with their rival business, Black Mesa on the upswing, Cave knew he had to do somethin' BIG and fast!
Wiz: Following the sudden burst of attention garnered by the disappearance of the icebreaker ship, Borealis, Aperture would focus all of its resources into portals and portal-based technology. This would include the Aperture Science Portable Quantum Tunneling Device.
Boomstick: Or "ASPHQTD" if you're as civilized as us!
Wiz: ...Portal Gun. They were making a Portal Gun. However, though this project would show immense promise, it would not come without a far greater cost.
Boomstick: A cost in a literal sense, plunging Aperture $210 million modern dollars into the red. And cost in the physical, since, apparently the moon-rocks used in makin' the thing were like...super irradiated? Who knew lack of a magnetic field in the radiation-packed vacuum of space'd do that.
Wiz: Cave Johnson, being one of precious few still working at Aperture would fall deathly ill. Unwilling to go down without a fight, he would order the invention of one last project...The Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System...GLaDOS.
Boomstick: To put it simply, he'd originally planned on uploadin' his own brain into this fancy new AI, but his health was deteriorating far too quick for that, and death was basically an inevitability for him, with GLaDOS comin' way too slow to save his life. So, he did the next best thing!
Wiz: See, throughout all the years; the trials and tribulations, there was only one person who was ever at his side to support him. His right-hand woman, Caroline.
Wiz: Knowing he'd be unable to lead Aperture Science himself, Cave Johnson ordered that Caroline become GLaDOS instead; by force if necessary.
Boomstick: Timeskip time! With Cave Johnson now sleepin' in a lead coffin, and Caroline's brain in a lead machine, GLaDOS was finally completed! To, uh...interesting results...
Wiz: That's one way of putting it. During tests on her AI, GLaDOS had repeatedly attempted to kill the scientists in charge of creating her, which by all means was understandable given the notable lack of spoken consent courtesy of Caroline. To aid in putting GLaDOS in a more docile state, she was fitted with specialized "cores," for dictating her various emotions; most importantly a Morality Core.
Boomstick: 'Course there were other cores they toyed with, but we'll come back to that later. For now, all things considered, things were lookin' good! Gladdy claimed not to be interested in killin' no more, and asked her keepers for one small favor — an ingredient to an experiment she wanted to run. Nothin' special, just a cat, a box, and an entire freakin' self-sufficient neurotoxin generator...y'know...for science!
Wiz: This went...about as well as you'd expect. Taking action one fateful "Bring Your Cat to Work Day..."
Boomstick: After the previous, less interesting Bring Your Daughter to Work Day...which ended in a slightly similar manner — go figure.
Wiz: GLaDOS locked down the facility, flooding it with neurotoxin killing almost every scientist and Aperture employee within — the survivors being forcibly interned as test subjects for the now rogue AI. GLaDOS would continue Cave Johnson's ambitions of beating out Black Mesa in the war of advancement.
Boomstick: Except one minor hurdle...uh...Black Mesa was kiiiiinda in the midst of a freak alien invasion? And almost everyone except a mute, armored physicist got their innards slurped up by your garden variety eldritch monstrosity. Not much point in a rivalry if your opponent's a corpse, y'know? Not that this'd stop Caroline none, and it was back to business as usual!
Wiz: Although throughout the fall of Aperture, there was but one man who managed to avoid GLaDOS' seemingly-omnipresent gaze. A schizophrenic programmer by the name of Doug Rattman.
Boomstick: With a name like that, you already know his deal.
Wiz: His paranoia that previously only earned him scorn and aversion served to save his life as he was able to evade GLaDOS' watchful eye and escape into the bowels of the enrichment center. Accessing her computer files, Rattman rearranged the test subject lineup, ensuring her next victim would be her last.
Boomstick: And how exactly would this plan work? Well...apparently the next test subject, Chell, was originally rejected for "extraordinary tenacity," whatever that means. I mean, really, she's had no trouble killin' anyone else who got in her way, makes no sense to me why she had this one loiterin' in stasis for god knows how long...
Wiz: Not realizing this would turn out to be GLaDOS' greatest mistake. Ordinarily, test subjects are incinerated at the end of their testing, giving up when all seemed lost — but Chell, due to her tenacity escaped from the jaws of death, fleeing into the maintenance areas outside of GLaDOS' sight and control.
Boomstick: Wouldn't be long till GLaDOS would find the understandably-peeved human right at her doorstep; but she did have at least one...er...two weapons left at her disposal.
Wiz: Her sharp wit and cunning, tricking Chell through reverse-psychology into destroying her Morality Core, unleashing the true murderous AI within.
Boomstick: And personal, rocket-launching turrets! 'Cause yeah, we haven't talked about those yet!
Wiz: I know, I know, just...keep patient for now, okay? We can talk about the guns later.
Boomstick: Fine...but just because you like mindlessly babblin' out exposition doesn't mean I like to listen!
Wiz: I am well-aware, Boomstick... ...Although GLaDOS would attempt to dispose of Chell right then and there in her chamber, it would be her own redirected defenses that would prove to be her undoing, and she was deconstructed and incinerated piece by piece until she could no longer keep herself together and self-destructed!
Boomstick: Wait, wait, wait, hold on! You made a promise! How can we talk about her guns, if she's DEAD?!
Wiz: Because she was still alive, you impatient baboon!
Boomstick: Oh...heh...it's like the song!
Wiz: [Highly irritated] Yeeesss...h-her remains...and the comatose body of Chell would be returned to the enrichment center by her reactivated backup personality cores. Though the actual length between Portal and Portal 2 is unknown, it could be anywhere between fifty days, to as high as fifty-thousand years. Though Chell survived in suspended animation, GLaDOS had to rely on a series of rapid quicksaves and quickloads; forced to relive her last few moments of life and the brink of death, over and over for years on end.
Boomstick: Good thing she's a computer or she could've been driven insane! ...Well...slightly more insane, but if anything she seems to be relatively hunky-dory by the time we see her again! A meeting brought about by the antics of...a certain misfit personality core...
Wiz: That being Wheatley; the core put in charge of watching over the human test-subjects. A task to which he was the least qualified to do, as the facility's power shuts down, killing nearly every test subject in the facility besides Chell; who survived very likely with severe brain-damage, rendered completely mute.
Boomstick: Not that she had much to say before, mind you.
Wiz: As Chell and Wheatley attempted to escape the dilapidated ruins of Aperture, Wheatley's bumbling antics resulted in the revival GLaDOS, and Chell becoming a subservient test-subject once more.
Boomstick: Needless to say, after 50,000 years of being blown up and incinerated nonstop, Gladdy was very happy to be able to torment Chell again, takin' every opportunity to sarcastically mock and challenge her, but never outright tryin' to kill her.
Wiz: At least...not until Wheatley returned to Chell's side, attempting not to escape...but to take down GLaDOS once and for all! The pair sabotage the turret-construction line, cut off connection to the neurotoxin generator, and meet GLaDOS face-to-face to sever her from the mainframe itself!
Boomstick: Which went well! ...At first...See, in order to keep the whole buildin' from fallin' apart around them, they sorta needed a core to replace the "corrupted" AI, and what better candidate than Wheatley, yeah? Well...funny thing about that. Turns out, it wasn't Caroline specifically who was the murderous one...
(Cue: "PotatOS Lament")
Wiz: It was the mainframe itself; imbuing in its overseer an overwhelming sadism and desire to test — seemingly having been designed in such a way that only Cave Johnson would have been able to use it without any notable difference! Caroline's consciousness would be uploaded onto a potato-battery by the vengeful intelligence-dampening core Wheatley, and both her and Chell would be thrown down into the old test tracks of Aperture's past.
Boomstick: So heroine and nemesis fightin' side-by-side to take back Aperture from the former ally before he bumbled this job up too and killed everyone left. It's like one of those old sitcoms where the inmates break out of a chain-gang together. Hell, GLaDOS even came to fully understand who she was before Cave's death and developed an unintentional respect for the lowly meat-bag carryin' her around and rescuin' her from birds!
Wiz: Indeed, since as it would turn out, Wheatley was not faring quite so well in the main testing grounds, as tests to the AI came packaged with an incentivization and withdrawal mechanic.
Boomstick: It's like a nice bottle a' booze. It feels really good at first, but over time, drinkin' it's all y'can really do to feel normal. And if you don't, then you're just left wonderin' where it all went so wrong...That maybe your mother was right about you bein' a disappointment, and your father dodged a bullet by leavin' ya.
Wiz: ...Boomstick?
Boomstick: Just one sip! Just somethin' to take the edge off! And then...bam! over a decade later and you're stuck in a dead-end job readin' off a script in an unairconditioned apartment, with your only friends being an overworked secretary, a nihilistic metal soccer ball, some histrionic showboat, and your middle-aged virgin friend whose idea of "fun" is makin' ya look at pictures of his goddamned iguana for two hours STRAIGHT!
Wiz: [Meekly] I...I thought you liked looking at Mr. Skittles...
Boomstick: ...Oh sorry Wiz, what were we talkin' about? Something about iguanas? Let's back on track — the guns, Wiz. Leave the lizards, and let's talk 'bout the guns!
Wiz: ...Yeah, okay...In that vein, let's start small with the Aperture Science Sentry Turret.
Boomstick: Aw yeah, simple but efficient! These cutesy, talkin' tripods of death were originally designed by Johnson to protect sleepin' children from intruders, with a singsong voice and body chock full of ballistic goodness! Only real downsides are that they can be deactivated just by givin' 'em a slight nudge to knock them over, and their rounds aren't packin' nearly the same punch you'd expect them to.
Wiz: The latter point can actually be explained by Cave's insistence that the turret fires the "whole bullet;" casing and all.
Boomstick: But though your friendly neighborhood oval of death may be the most numerous and disposable Aperture's got, it's far from the only make and model! These things come in all kinds of sizes, from the dog-sized one we all know and love, to the absolute behemoth that is the Animal-King!
Wiz: But turrets are not all the weaponry GLaDOS can control remotely, as the testing-grounds contain a variety of hazards, from the bone-crushing spike-plates, to the rather aptly named "Aperture Science Bomb."
Boomstick: Y'know, something tells me Gladdy ain't nearly as creative with her killing methods as her predecessor and that's saying something. Ah, but don't think she's a sittin' duck in her own chamber either! As she's still got the aforementioned auto-locking rocket-turret, and whole heaps of neurotoxin she's just itchin' let you get a whiff of!
Wiz: As well as a series of protective shields she can maneuver around her body to shield her from harm. Ahh, but what discussion of Aperture weaponry would be complete without the Portal Gun? While it can't deal damage in the traditional sense, it can be used to levitate smaller objects in a fixed range ahead, and true to its name, tear holes into reality, allowing instant transportation! Kinetic energy can even be carried through the portals, weaponizing gravity itself!
Boomstick: Don't get any ideas, Wiz...Although, the Portal Gun ain't exactly somethin' GLaDOS uses herself is it?
Wiz: An uncharacteristically astute observation, my friend.
Boomstick: Oh, thanks. ... ...Hey!
Wiz: Introducing our other combatants on the side of Aperture Science...ATLAS and P-Body!
Wiz: Male and Female-programmed androids respectively, they were designed without fear, pride, or ambition. The perfect duo for cooperating and solving test chambers as a team!
Boomstick: And either of 'em's equipped with their own personal Portal Gun and set of corresponding portals!
Wiz: Though GLaDOS attempts multiple times to lure and tempt them into betraying one another to test their loyalty, or turn them into killing machines, they remain absolute in their duties. And while they possess little combat-functionalities themselves, the Portal Guns and physics itself serve as all the weapons they need!
Boomstick: Pretty crummy weapons though...and GLaDOS agrees! As upon their deaths, they're just rebuilt through a pipe-like series of "Vital Apple-Rapture Vents."
Wiz: Aperture Science Vital Apparatus Vent.
Boomstick: Do they got anything that ISN'T followed by "Aperture Science?"
Wiz: I think you missed my point...but I digress. Both Wheatley and eventually GLaDOS would decide that ATLAS and P-Body rendered Chell obsolete, causing the former to attempt to kill them both.
Boomstick: Which went...about as well as you'd expect.
Wiz: Needless to say, in spite of Wheatley's best efforts, he's thwarted and sent into the vacuum of space by Chell after firing a portal at the moon itself!
Boomstick: Man, that Portal Gun got some serious range huh? And through their little adventure, GLaDOS seemed to finally discover who she really was! Where Caroline lived in her brain!
AI Voice: "Caroline deleted."
Boomstick: Whoops, oh well.
Wiz: Whether or not she actually deleted Caroline is up in the air, as she would eventually go on to spare and raise a nest full of birds, nurturing them in her own slightly-sinister, motherly way. But regardless, with Chell gone she could finally get back to testing. And believe us when we say...she is very much Still Alive...and she Wants You Gone.
GLaDOS: ♪ "Goodbye my only friend. ...Oh, did you think I meant you? That would be funny, if it weren't so sad. Well you have been replaced; I don't need anyone now. When I delete you maybe I'll stop feeling so bad..." ♪
"The Master Redefines Mankind for DEATH BATTLE!"[]
(Cue: "Vats of Goo")
Wiz: The year is 2092. The once booming North American continent had been reduced to little more than radioactive ash and ruin along with the rest of the world following a vicious arms-race between the USA and China. No one knows who struck first, but by the time the last bomb fell neither country would live to tell the tale.
Boomstick: Fortunately, neither of 'em were really all that subtle 'bout wanting to nuke the other, so preparations were already bein' made by the populace to evacuate themselves into rad-proof underground vaults to wait out the storm 'till the wasteland's livable again!
Wiz: One of these vaults, Vault 8, which had used its "Garden of Eden Creation Kit," or simply "GECK" for short to create a vast, technological advanced utopia amidst the wasteland known as "Vault City."
Boomstick: Sheesh, really giving Aperture a run for their money with the horribly uncreative names. Well, let's just say the early years at gool ol' VC weren't quite so idyllic. For one...they had a bit of a murder problem apparently!
Wiz: Specifically, one "Richard Moreau," one of very few survivors of the war with medical training, was accused of murder and subsequently exiled from the city. Details of the murder are unknown, though as we would see over one-hundred years later in 2242, Vault City is a place ruled by paranoia and corruption, making whether or not Richard was innocent up in the air.
Boomstick: 'Course dignity probably comes second to not dyin' to whatever mutated beasties happen to wandering around a post-apocalyptic California, so Richard, changing his name to "Richard Grey" set out to the Hub settlement, findin' work as a doctor travellin' with various water-merchants and caravans. Sounds like a sweet gig, right? Well...
Wiz: Reports flooded in of strange, deformed animals attacking caravans with many going missing in the wasteland. Richard would be hired by a caravan-master by the name of Harold as team-doctor in an expedition to Mariposa Military Base; the epicenter of these attacks.
Boomstick: The team faced heavy casualties from mutated animals as they delved deeper and deeper into the old military base, until by the end of it, only Richard and Harold were left alive, finding massive tubs of some strange glowing green fluid. Just as they were about to build up shelter, a mechanical crane malfunctioned and collided into 'em, injuring Harold and knockin' him unconscious, and sending Richard plummeting into one of those vats!
Wiz: Assuming his last remaining ally to be nothing more than a corpse sinking into the liquid, Harold barely managed to escape the facility with his life, albeit heavily mutated from exposure to the mystery-chemical. Unbeknownst to him, however...Richard clung to life, floating helplessly in the vat for days, fighting desperately to avoid drowning, until he was at last able to pull what remained of his body out of the vat and onto the cold, laboratory floor below.
Boomstick: Pretty standard fare, yeah? I mean, meek little doctor with a tragic past thrown into some sort of radioactive chemical soup that changes his body against his will...I mean, plenty of the superheroes we've covered on the show thus far went through somethin' similar!
Wiz: Alas, superpowers would not be what Richard gained from this expedition...but rather, enlightenment. For weeks he waited for death as the flesh fell from his bones, and yet death never came. Yet his body was crumbling around him, his mind grew stronger by the second.
Boomstick: Not to say his body didn't show off some new abilities of its own. Apparently, Richard grew some kinda second mouth in his stomach with a tendril that shoots out to grab rats and whatever small animals happened to be nearby? Pretty gnarly stuff; and it all happens without Richard's input!
Wiz: Through consuming other living creatures in this manner, their consciousness fused with his own, creating a hivemind. Two beings still technically separate, yet unified simultaneously. Realizing what the mysterious goo had done to him, Richard began to experiment with it, dipping rats, dogs, and whatever other animal happened to wander into the base, into the vats of goo.
Boomstick: One time he had the brilliant idea to dip a rat and a dog in at the same time, creatin' something very similar to himself! Presumably creating the very first centaur, which...err...well, we'll come back to that, because they're their own special breed of...eugghh...
Wiz: For as much as the chemical fascinated Richard, it frustrated him at the same time that he knew nothing about it; not even its name. But, as luck would have it, through his habitual experimentation on himself by injecting the goo into his veins, he gained the ability to neurologically link with all the technology and computers nearby and in doing so, downloaded their information into his own brain.
Boomstick: Imagine if studying in real life was as easy as injectin' yourself full of glowing goo; never have to worry about failing a test again! ...Ah...Don't actually try that at home though? It...never worked for me...No thanks to you Wiz.
Wiz: [Shrugs] You never know when you might make a breakthrough. But I digress — the goo was in fact the product of one of Pre-War America's constant efforts to overtake the Chinese in their global arms-race and cold war, the Forced Evolutionary Virus, or "FEV" for short.
Boomstick: Basically, it was meant to be used to turn your average, scrawny American Joe, into a musclebound, bona fide pro!
Wiz: Never say that again.
Boomstick: Ah, bite me, Joe. Well, the "Super Mutants" as they'd eventually be called were far larger than an average man — with skin more akin to armor than flesh, and the strength to tear apart vertibird helicopters and other vehicles with their bare hands! And due to some molecular mumbo-jumbo, the mutants were completely immune to the damaging effects of radiation. And in a place where everyone's either dying from, or has already died from all the fallout still lingering about, that's a pretty nifty advantage over the average human!
Wiz: Needless to say, Richard in his heavily-damaged state was far from what an average Super Mutant was supposed to look like. Not to mention how the average mutant typically loses about 30% of their intellectual capabilities, yet he had somehow gained the ability to come up with on-the-fly solutions to complex, philosophical conundrums, as easy as counting to four! [Side-glances to Boomstick]
Boomstick: ...Oh, real funny Wiz. Is this the "counting to four" thing? I can count to four, and unlike you I know what "based" and "pog" mean too. So cut me some slack, will ya?
Wiz: ...Ahhh...Touche...
Boomstick: Thank you! Now where were we...Oh, yeah! Uhh, apparently Rich was actually the outlier in this scenario, with his mind receiving much of the benefits his muscles should have...so he was sorta like a super-super mutant. "The Master of the Super Mutants" if you will!
Wiz: Well, not quite yet. But in addition to learning more about the FEV, Richard would learn why experiments on rogue humans most commonly resulted in death...that being a second strain of FEV that had been diluted into the atmosphere during the Great War!
Boomstick: Sorta like chicken-pox! Once you catch it, you're immune to it for life! Well, everyone living in the wasteland since the bombs dropped had a bit of the FEV in their systems which sorta messed with the whole supermutantification process. Buuut, Richard, who grew up in a rad-proof vault was "pure" enough to transform...Meaning it was now time for him to go vault-huntin' for prime lab-rats!
Wiz: Sending what few Super Mutants he was able to acquire out on raids, Richard would focus his efforts almost exclusively on roaming caravans, knowing they would inevitably be blamed on the same mutated animals he himself was believed to have been killed by. The Super Mutant grew rapidly by the day, assimilating traders, merchants, scavengers, adventurers; even clearing out vaults from what little they knew about!
Boomstick: Anyone who failed to meet his criteria was simply gobbled up and merged with the Richard hivemind. Though notably there was one Super Mutant who met his expectations with flyin' colors!
Wiz: Known simply as "The Lieutenant."
Boomstick: Or "Lou Tenant" for a more unique-soundin' name.
Wiz: This specimen was stronger, faster, tougher, and leagues more intelligent than the average mutant, and more so than the average man. He became enthralled by Richard's dreams of unity; of creating peace within the wasteland just as he saw within the rat and dog he merged together and his own mutated body! Because at the end of the day, very little of what remained of him was Richard...but he himself was the personification of unity. He had become...
(Cue: "Acolytes of the New God")
Wiz: The Master.
Boomstick: But he was far from bein' done revolutionizin' himself! See, as well as good ol' Lou, "The Master" had managed to catch himself perhaps the biggest mutant rat he's ever seen in his life!
Wiz: ...Morpheus. And...he was not a rat.
Boomstick: At least not literally.
Wiz: See, part of the Master's plan to bring the wasteland into unity involved improving his public image. With musclebound mutants roaming about, kidnapping whoever was unlucky enough to be in their way, it would no doubt result in retaliation from the more civilized and well-armed of human-settlements.
Boomstick: So, he needed a damn-good publicist to make him seem like he really isn't the bad guy everyone would think he is. That's where Morpheus comes in! Establishing hospitals in the post-nuclear remnants of Los Angeles, as well as free food and water to the local riffraff, all the while preachin' the word of the "Holy Flame" or "Father Hope." This weasley little goober only ever presented a human-face to the human-livestock, and was able to form a literal cult known as the Children of the Cathedral worshipping the Master!
Wiz: And it would come at the perfect time for the Master as well, as his ever-growing, viscous body would be transferred from Mariposa all the way to the Los Angeles Vault to be closer to where his operations were most chiefly taking place. And upon connecting his mind to the Vault's interface, he hit the motherlode...a complete map of all other vaults in the vicinity, just waiting to be plucked clean of uncontaminated human specimens.
Boomstick: Bet he was basically salivating at the thought, yeah? With "The Unity" now firmly established, a consistent source of new mutants, and a group of tech-savvy humans at his beck and call, things were lookin' pretty good for Master Richard. ...Which is exactly how you know things are about to get worse.
Wiz: As implied before, sending Super Mutants out into the wasteland to retrieve humans or supplies was always in it's nature going to be a risky play, as even a trained warrior, decked head-to-toe in state-of-the-art Powered Combat Armor would be locked in a deadly stalemate against just one of them...which isn't even to mention the brutal weaponry they have been trained to wield.
Boomstick: Alright, weapons-time! We touched on the Fallout weapons before, and I've been itchin' to get into this stuff in more detail! While the sheer girth of the mutants' sausage fingers means they can't really wield small arms like pistols, SMGs, or shotguns, it fits perfectly with their preferred weapons of rifles and heavy-guns, and boy howdy do they got some real killer options at their disposal!
Wiz: ... "Boy howdy?"
Boomstick: ...Yeah...I got caught up in the moment, okay? But anyway, hopefully most of the simpler stuff should need no introduction — the assault rifle fires in rapid-fire streams, or an alternate burst-fire which as any travelling companion of Shady Sands' resident guard Ian will gladly attest to. While the Sniper Rifle can deal magnified damage at long-range.
Wiz: They can also wield a variety of specialized, nuclear-powered armaments, namely energy-and-plasma based weaponry; the leading difference between the two being that energy weapons fire quicker but deal rather low damage, and vice versa. These weapons are fully capable of destabilizing targets at a molecular level, reducing anyone unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end to a pile of glowing green goop.
Boomstick: Sounds exactly up your alley, Wiz. While ordinarily energy weapons are primarily limited to pistols or rifles, the Gatling Laser takes to the extreme, being a full-on, laser-firing minigun! And if you wanna go for simpler than your typical sci-fi weaponry, you really can't go wrong with the kosher, ballistic minigun, flamethrowers, or rocket launchers! Though the mutants ain't exactly the best at avoidin' friendly fire, so their bigger guns can, uh...really be their own biggest enemy at times...
Wiz: And the Unity is not limited just to super-mutants, as Morpheus and his followers are more than capable of maintaining highly-advanced pre-war tech and computers, as well as wielding smaller armaments, though are most definitely not built or trained for fighting.
Boomstick: But who cares about the humans? They might got intelligence, but they're not even the brightest among their ranks! That honor would have to go...to Lou freakin' Tenant!
Wiz: As previously stated, the Lieutenant of the Master's army is stronger, faster, more durable, and leagues more intelligent than even the best and brightest of humans. It was through his transformation into a mutant that stoked a religious admiration and awe of the Unity. And seemingly as reward for his loyalty and gallantry, he was fitted with cybernetic enhancements throughout his body.
Boomstick: And he absolutely is a force to be reckoned with. Besides a certain other super-mutant who'd show up about eighty-years later, the Lieutenant is by far the most powerful being in the California wasteland! Far deadlier than even the face-ripping, sabre-clawed mutated chameleons known as the Deathclaws — a rather apt name if I say so myself.
Wiz: Of course, the sheer power he possesses is perhaps too much for a natural body to be capable of sustaining, and his implants seem to act as a sort of life-support system. Should they be damaged or removed, the results can be rather...messy.
Boomstick: God damn...that is...horrifying... ...I love it!
Wiz: Even the Master himself, while not nearly as burly or durable as his mutant minions, is still capable of defending himself at close-range. Having been fused to the former vault-overseer's chair, he controls a set of miniguns, capable of shredding through the thickest armor with immense ease. And through his sheer mutations, just being in the same room as him can very easily kill someone through his psychic projections.
Boomstick: See, while they're implied to be mere hallucinations, what with the floor comin' alive to eat you, or shards of bone shooting into your eyeball, permanently destroying it; the damage it does is very much tangible! Hell, even the Children of the Cathedral have to wear specialized psychic-dampening gear just to SPEAK to the guy!
Wiz: And the ordinary Super Mutants are far from the only subordinates the Master has at his disposal. The Nightkin are a deviation from the standard mutant, having grown a sort of dependency on the invisibility-effect of "Stealth Boy" technology. While they're capable of turning completely invisible until they need to attack, it came at the cost of severe schizophrenia, making them wholly unpredictable to everyone around them.
Boomstick: As well as some mutated animals that the mutants treat sorta like their horribly-grotesque guard-dogs. The simpler, slightly cuter one of these are the Floaters! Mutated flatworms capable of...well...floating in the air! While they do prefer to fight by shootin' out a jagged-toothed maw out to snap at some poor caravaneer, my personal favorite use for 'em is just how flammable they are! All that gas they use to float combusts so easily, and they flop to the ground when they die, like a fleshy, rank-smelling napalm grenade!
Wiz: Ahhnn...You can be real eloquent when you want to be, Boomstick. If only we could make you choosier about it...
Boomstick: Ah, come on Wiz! I left you the more fun mutant to talk about!
Wiz: By fun you mean horrifying! We've been doing this show for over a decade, yet no nameless creature has ever made me me squirm in my own skin and drive me near to puking more than the Centaurs from Fallout!
Wiz: These abominable spawn of the wasteland are the result of differing species such as cats, dogs, and humans being dipped into the Vats of FEV at the same time, causing their bodies to fuse together much like the Master's had. Even the smallest of which can still grow to the size of an unmutated adult grizzly bear, and though clumsy in appearance and structure, they're more than capable of outrunning even the most physically fit of humans! Though traditionally dealing damage either by the enlarged teeth of its canine head, or the razored edge of their protruding rear-tentacles, they have been shown in later installments to be capable of shooting a highly radioactive and corrosive saliva projectile!
Boomstick: Yeeeah, centaurs are real messed up. They're most commonly used as a sort of guard-dog for the Unity, but are fully capable of accompanying Super Mutant patrols, lashing out at anything that moves. And they're some real robust beasts too! Those created by the Master are still alive and kickin' even 120 years after his death...which yeah, if you hadn't already guessed, all this Unity stuff WOULD eventually catch up with him!
Wiz: Though the Master went through great lengths to perfect his plan, seemingly covering all angles, his downfall would come in the form of something he never could have expected...the failing water-chip of Vault 13, located in the Sierra Nevada mountain range, with one nameless Vault Dweller setting out into the wasteland to find a replacement.
Boomstick: While their goal always was just to find a new water-chip, their journey would eventually lead them to the irradiated remains of Bakersfield, now known as "Necropolis" and home to a couple Ghoul-factions, heavily irradiated humans with zombie-like features. There, the Vault Dweller would encounter a group of Super Mutants led by everyone's favorite doofus "Harry," and would catch their first hint that maybe somethin' was a little off 'bout the wasteland.
Wiz: Having averted mass-dehydration for their Vault, the Vault Dweller was tasked with hunting down the Master and eliminating the source of the Super Mutants plaguing California. To this end, Mariposa would be destroyed with the Lieutenant along with it.
Boomstick: And with the aid of the charitable Followers of the Apocalypse, it wouldn't be long till VD discovered the location of the Cathedral as well, turning Morpheus into a fine pile of glowing ash in the process, until it was at last time for one final confrontation with the big man himself! ...Sorta...
Wiz: As it would turn out, the Vault Dweller didn't even need to kill The Master to thwart his plans of world-domination. They were instead simply the bearer of bad news...Part of the Master's plan from the start was to mass-produce enough mutants to the point they could self-sustain themselves long after he himself could wither away. Though FEV sterilized the mutants infected with it, he was convinced that his experimentation had fixed such an issue.
Boomstick: Unfortunately for him, he was actually completely wrong, as indicated by an autopsy report done by the Brotherhood of Steel. While FEV left reproductive organs intact, it worked sorta like a dysfunctional immune system, targeting and killing sperm or gametes 'fore pregnancy can start. The Vault Dweller simply handed the Master a holotape containing the reports...and realization washed over the Master like a flood.
Wiz: Everything he had done, everyone he had killed, the atrocities against god and nature he had wrought. All for the sake of a better future free from the strife and war that had caused the nuclear annihilation of the world in the first place...all at once it was revealed to be completely in vain...And in that moment, his humanity returned to him. For the briefest of moments he was Richard again, finally realizing the madness of his actions.
Boomstick: Rather than a final fight to the death, Richard simply asked the Vault Dweller to leave...and then activated the Cathedral's self-destruction, killing himself in the process...Man, that's honestly a bit of a bummer. For a throbbing pile of murderous, melted flesh, he wasn't a bad person at heart, just disillusioned. Aww, I'm sad now...
Wiz: Indeed, the tale of Richard Gray and his dreams of Unity is quite a tragic one. The wasteland would never fully recover from his actions, and his legacy survives — his grand shadow looming large over the wasteland for years and even centuries after his death. It was war that birthed the Master, it was war that gave him hope, and it was war that crushed his dreams...And war...War never changes...
The Master: "The Unity will bring about the master race. Master! MASTER! One able to survive, or even thrive, in the wasteland. As long as there are differences, we will TEAR OURSELVES APART fighting each other. We need one race. Race! RACE! One goal! GOAL! Goal~! One people...to move forward to our destiny! Destiny.
Intermission / Pre-Fight Poll[]
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Wiz: Alright, the combatants are set, and we've run the data through all possibilities. Feel free to vote for who you believe will win in the poll provided: https://strawpoll.com/polls/ajnEOxajjZW
Boomstick: But now! IT'S TIME FOR A DEATH BATTLE!!
Battle[]
WARNING! CATASTROPHIC SYSTEM FAILURE!
¡ADVERTENCIA! ¡FALLA CATASTRÓFICA DEL SISTEMA!
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VITAL FACILITY COMPONENTS DESTROYED AND/OR NOT CONNECTED.
COMPONENTES DE LAS INSTALACIONES VITALES DESTRUIDOS Y/O NO CONECTADOS.
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PLEASE CONTACT CUSTOMER-SUPPORT AT WWW.WWW.WWW.WWW— bssst...
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BEGINNING AUTOMATIC DATA-RECOVERY PROCEDURE. PLEASE WAIT...
PROCESSING...PROCESSING...
FILE FOUND. FatherLog-2-14-2162.mp4
NOW PLAYING AUDIO-LOG...
February 14th, Valentine's Day, yet in a loving mood I most certainly am not.
One of the priests changed the password on my terminal. Had to hire some two-faced scavenger from the Boneyard to reset it for me. Apparently my password was changed to "Morbius." (Whatever that means — supposedly a play on my name. Ugh, these wasteland half-wits try my patience so...)
In less frustrating news, one of the nightkin returned to the Cathedral bearing a glowing green crystal. Of course, I was quite insistent they keep it outside — lord knows how many times the nightkin have brought live grenades into the building; makes quite a mess each time. We examined it, not a trace of radiation. Curious...They claimed they saw it fall from the sky? Even more curious. Given the lack of tangible data relevant to this sample, I was forced to rely on our little friend-on-the-inside to do some digging in the Followers' library headquarters.
We have a name for it, so I'm told. "Xen Crystal," from the alien-world of Xen. ...I am frankly at a loss for words.
It is not the first time these bumbling brutes have spread tales of aliens, yet we've found precious few traces of minerals found elsewhere on the planet. It is a possibility, but not one I am too keen on clinging to.
We hope to find a more defined diagnosis as to the origins and makeup of this mineral, and more importantly its practical use.
In light of recent events, I have changed my password again: "xX_FatCuckJ0nes_Xx" (See, it's different, because I replaced the "o" in Jones with a "0." They'll never guess THIS one, I'm sure.)
Signed, Morbius[BLEEP]
Signed, Mor—Morb[BLEEP]
Signed, Morphe—...Dammit[BLEEP]Love, Morpheus. <3
...
God, I hope no one's listening to this.
END OF LOG
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PROCESSING...PROCESSING...
SURVEILLANCE FOOTAGE RECOVERED. PLEASE WAIT...
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WARNING! INSUFFICIENT MEMORY
EXTERNAL MEMORY-CARD NOT FOUND.
COMPILING RECOVERED FILES...
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WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. BEGINNING AUTOMATIC PLAYBACK...
FEBRUARY 14th, 2162, 5:22:04 AM . . .
Silence...Dead silence...
Though the centuries-old test chambers of Aperture were no stranger to standing idle, today of all days felt oddly different. As though the atmosphere weighed heavy with dread.
Test Chamber 42 was almost completely bare with the only notable features being of course, the entrance and exit elevators, the observation room, and the focus of this particular experiment...a crystal, set atop a specialized pedestal with wires strewn about, surging with electricity. The golden mineral emits a soft glow akin to an autumn sunset, refracting the light of several lasers shining into it from below.
(Cue: "I'm Different")
"Hello. Welcome again to the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center..." A robotic voice speaks over the facility's intercom system.
As if on-cue, the elevators spring into motion, rapidly assembling two androids, one short and stout, with the other tall and lanky. The androids' cyclops-like eyes dart from side to side, taking in their surroundings before being forcefully ejected from their positions in the Vital Appartus Vents. P-Body barely manages to catch herself, only to be knocked over like a bowling pin by a rolling ATLAS who seemingly did not land quite as gracefully.
"We would like to congratulate you on your above-average performance in the Aperture Science Cooperative Testing Initiative." GLaDOS' voice announces. "You are more dedicated to testing and science than I could have possibly imagined. Do note however...that today's test hinges not on the skills you have demonstrated thus far."
ATLAS pulls himself to his feet, picking up his own head and placing it back on his shoulders...only to still find himself staring at the floor. The headless P-Body stumbles about, groping the air mindlessly looking for her head, which was now attached to the completely oblivious ATLAS. GLaDOS merely ignores this clumsy, uncoordinated display.
"You are highly-trained professionals, and I am certain you do not need to hear all the details...So I will instead give you the 'fast' version."
The androids, now having fixed their heads, stare upward in confusion as if trying to piece together in their mind what she said.
"...That was a joke. You may laugh."
The androids chuckle.
"Stop laughing."
P-Body stops. ATLAS keeps laughing for a few extra seconds, until P-Body slaps him upside the head, throwing him off-balance.
"The goal of Aperture Science is, and always has been progress and advancement. To this end, we have maintained a healthy, productive rivalry with Black Mesa and the Black Mesa Research Facility...Unfortunately, 99.9% of Black Mesa personnel have recently contracted a fatal dose of alien invasion. Even more unfortunately, said mass-affliction came immediately following Black Mesa's achievement of a Resonance Cascade and presumed mastery over portal-technology."
The androids look to each other warily. Neither has any idea what a "Resonance Cascade" is, but that and the Xen Crystal pulsating in the center of the chamber put both of them ill-at-ease.
"...That is...until today. Though ordinarily, the triggering of a Resonance Cascade requires the input of the Black Mesa Anti-Mass Spectrometer, we here at Aperture Science are pleased to announce the completion of our own, more...compact...iteration. Please turn your attention to the center of the room and stare blankly."
...
"Good. The projected procedure is quite simple. Please take aim at the Aperture Science Xen Crystal Sample GG-3884, and fire your Aperture Science Handheld Portal-Devices on the count of ten."
Though still quite wary, ATLAS and P-Body raise their Portal Guns, their arms shaking with dread.
"Before this next test begins, we here at Aperture Science would like to send our condolences. Our hearts go out to those who have lost their lives in the Black Mesa Disaster and their immediate family. And as we take our first step into the future, we would like to cite a timeless quote from our founder, Cave Johnson — 'Black Mesa can eat my bankrupt ass.'"
Meanwhile, beneath the Cathedral...
A Unity priest rummages through a metal box with the Gun Runners' logo emblazoned on the side. As a single-file line of Super Mutants enter the room, each one is handed a Turbo Plasma Rifle by the priest; half of the mutants appearing quite confused with this whole situation.
"High Priest Jeremiah!" Morpheus' voice echoes through the vault's intercom system. "I would very much appreciate it if you moved a little quicker! Put your back into it if you have to, they're only squats!"
The Priest, Jeremiah pants, directing his voice upward, as if directing his employer. "Father Morpheus, my lord...Research on the Xen Crystal moves slowly, and yet from every old-world document we've recovered, the only constant is the sheer volatility contained within this gem. And what's more, we have not even divulged its existence to the Holy Flame!"
As the priest speaks, one of the Super Mutants who had been fiddling with his new rifle accidentally fires it, reducing the mutant to his right into a viscous pile of green goo. "...Oh."
"Van Hagen, send in a replacement mutant... ...Yes, it happened again." Morpheus' voice speaks to someone barely out of earshot. "Very well, Jeremiah...I hear your concerns, and I understand fully. But do note however, that while our Master is unaware of our experimentations, I am absolutely certain that the heavens would not have gifted this to us should we have been unworthy...and we are taking every precaution available to us, with the pinnacle of Unity technology at our disposal."
"E...Every precaution..." Jeremiah parrots, dumbfounded, trying desperately not to raise his voice at the man who could very easily have him executed, or even worse...demoted. "Father Morpheus...You ARE aware that we lack an Anti-Mass Spectrometer. Though I've taken your instructions to heart, our substitute does not quite...seem..."
Jeremiah turns his gaze to the center of the room, revealed to be built from the remnants of a pre-war restroom. The Xen Crystal sits lodged in one of the toilets, pulsing ominously, dripping with a nondescript fluid.
"...Standard..."
"The Boneyard was carved from the remnants of an old world settlement, 'Los Angeles.'" Morpheus replies immediately, completely calm. "If anything, we may even have an excess of the radiation required to trigger destabilization in our sample. Now...High Priest Jeremiah, are we ready to begin?"
Jeremiah groans uncomfortably as another priest mops up the liquid remains of the unfortunate mutant. "Yes, Father. Men of the Unity...take aim! Fire all at once to Father Morpheus' signal!"
"Good, good...From the count of ten then!" Morpheus chuckles quietly to himself. "Oh, I'm positively trembling with excitement. The Followers of the Apocalypse can eat my decrepit, wrinkled derrière...!"
The compressed security footage splices together, with the countdowns of both GLaDOS and Morpheus overlapping.
Ten...
Nine...
Eight...
Seven!
Six!
Five!
Four...
Three!
Two...!
ONE!!
FIRE!!![]
As the plasma-projectiles leave the barrels of their respective guns, the footage begins to spasm and distort.
(Cue: "I Saw a Deer Today")
The footage buffers, playing both sequences simultaneously as though in slow-motion, before suddenly freezing...the plasma spheres mere centimeters from the crystals. Screams ring out as lightning booms in the background. On occasion, the footage resumes, showing short snippets of chaos and destruction; a giant portal having opened between the two chambers, fusing them together.
They had done it...They had created a Resonance Cascade...
...
. . .
"Hello? ...Hello? Who's...Who's there...? ...I know you're there...I can feel you. You're not one of us... Get out of my head...GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!"
"GETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGE—"
BZZZTTT!! ...Bzz...zzzrttt... ...ZzzAP!!
Surveillance feedback returns...
GLaDOS jolts upright in a panic, the fans within her mainframe whirring like crazy. That voice in her head...it was unlike any she's ever heard, and yet it wasn't entirely unfamiliar either. "Wh...What in the...?" Drowsy, the events that just transpired all come rushing back to her in an instant. The Xen Crystal, the earthquake, the bodies of alien creatures splattered across the test-chamber...and that man she saw...the man with the voices of many. She exhales, or at least as close to exhalation as a being such as her could emulate.
"Good morning..." GLaDOS' voice echoes throughout the facility. As she makes the announcement, even she can feel the immense difference within her body. The Enrichment Center had changed...there was no doubt about that. But more than that, she could feel herself...being watched. "Who...Who are you?" She says to seemingly no one in particular.
"...We...No, I...I am...Unity..." The same voice as before answers within her mind. "I am...the one they call...The Master."
"...Y...You..."
"You are the 'Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System.' 'GLaDOS'...Is that correct?"
But the words spoken by these two bely their true thoughts. In that moment, both of them were already sizing up the other and the layout of their new, extended bodies.
GLaDOS could feel the presence of technology unheard of in the world of the present. The ability to prolong life, sustain gunfire, new gloriously brutal ways to maim and dismember her test subjects! And the FEV...the opportunity to test on these seemingly-immortal mutants for years to her heart's content!
And this "Master," though he had little need for the relatively archaic designs of Aperture Science, something else had caught his attention...humans. Chambers upon chambers packed full to bursting with pure-strain humans meant to be used as test-subjects, basically begging for him to turn them all into mutants!
GLaDOS and the Master were practically salivating at the opportunity...But before they could reap their rewards, there was one small issue to resolve...
They had to eliminate the competition first...
FIGHT![]
The battered remains of Chamber 42 lay in ruin. The once-sanitized, pure-white tiling of the walls and floor are coated in thick layers of soot, if not missing altogether. Where the exit elevators had once stood, instead a second chamber is now haphazardly fused together, with a completely different look and aesthetic...perhaps the most notable "aesthetic" being the chunks of Super Mutant viscera painting the walls.
The rubble on the Aperture side of the room shifts, before ATLAS' head pokes out from the debris, shaking himself off — dazed yet unharmed. He jolts upright, frantically digging through the destruction for P-Body, only for a blast of the Portal Gun to the back of the head to catch his attention. He gazes upward to see P-Body hanging upside from the ceiling, firing her Portal Gun in random directions in a panic.
"I am back." GLaDOS' voice announces. "We apologize for the delay...There has been a slight change of plans. Please, brace yourselves for painless relocation in ten...nine...now."
ATLAS and P-Body immediately self-destruct, a mechanical claw popping out from the wall to collect their fallen Portal Guns.
"For the moment...Test Chamber #42 will undergo emergency renovation. Accommodations for our guests are in order..." As her voice cuts out, a series of Vital Apparatus Vents slide down from the ceiling, planting themselves into the ashen floor. Metal appendages get to work tearing apart and reassembling the rest of the chamber to better ready it and prepare for the bloody conflict to come.
-
GLaDOS watches with slight impatience as ATLAS and P-Body are reassembled in her control room, not much helped by the anxiety granted by these disembodied voices of the Master permeating her thoughts. "...Welcome; I am pleased that you have accepted my invitation." GLaDOS remarks to the dazed and confused androids, knowing full-well the invitation wasn't exactly consensual. "As you are no doubt aware and ecstatic over...our experiment was a success, and we have reproduced a Resonance Cascade in a more controlled environment..." She hovers silently for a moment. "...Yes...unfortunately, even in...the most secure of conditions, there are...always uncertainties. Such uncertainties is what makes doing science so fun for us all."
ATLAS and P-Body approach the overseer, before the same mechanical claws from earlier shoot down with their Portal Guns in tow, smacking the taller P-Body in the head and knocking her over. ATLAS cautiously retrieves his own gun.
"I am sure you are riding high, and as such, we have another very special test for you, Blue, Orange." An elevator shaft whirs at the far-end of the overseer's chamber. "Have you ever killed a man, Orange? Blue, have you ever felt great schadenfreude at watching someone beg for their lives?"
"...VRRRR!!!" ATLAS and P-Body both screech in unison. Though not particularly talkative today they both seem a little uncertain.
"Of course not. Much to my boundless chagrin, you two are seemingly immune to fear and/or desire. You are persistent, resourceful, blindly obedient...and most importantly...expendable." Her eye flickers, producing the illusion of a faint smile. "...I have rearranged a series of seldom-used test-chambers that have been calculated to be 95% resistant to outside mutant-related interference. According to what our newfound intelligence provides us, this "Vault" as it is called contains a high-yield nuclear generators. And I am sure you love fireworks just as much as I do! Think of it as...a vacation. A very deadly vacation — do not forget to bring back souvenirs. Ha ha ha..."
The empty-sounding laughter only unnerves the androids further, but she was at the very least right about their blind obedience, and both ATLAS and P-Body knew what they had to do — destroy the Master of course, but also retrieve any and all unfamiliar technology they can get their hands on.
"Now go...Have fun, and remember, death is just part of the learning experience."
The androids, armed with their orders and the inference that if something moves it will mostly likely try to kill them, make their way to the elevator to begin their testing.
"...Psst! Hey! Hey, you two! Hello! Down here!" Said a familiar voice in a West-English accent. The affable Wheatley gazes up at the pair from between panels in the wall. "So, um, I bet you're wondering...what I'm doing here. Well!"
Without waiting for an answer — one that likely would have involved jumping on the spot anyway, the core emerges from the wall, sliding up a management rail positioned above them.
"Before I answer that, lemme just say. I'm a core, and you two...are vaguely-humanoid-shaped androids. We're practically brothers! Well, brothers and sister and—okay, wait do any of us have genders? Okay, okay, um...We're like cousins — yeah, cousins...cousins with...a firm respective grasp on our personal identities!" Wheatley nods to himself whilst "smiling." "And for the sake of not making this conversation any more awkward than it already is...I'll just call you by your names, alright? Right. P-Body! Buddy! Did you do something to your face? Ah, it looks so smooth! Gorgeous, absolutely lovely!"
"Vvrrrr! Vrr!" P-Body proudly responds, appearing flattered.
"Ah, you...you self-destructed you say? O-Oh, yes...Yes, I was wondering where the smell of singed metal was coming from....a lovely scent! Yeah, lovely. And ATLAS! You! ...Uh, you...Did you get a new haircut? It's quite chic I must say — being completely bald is all the rage these days."
"Vr-vr-vrrrr!" ATLAS replies, even more flattered than his partner for some reason.
"Right, right, so...um...D-Did you uh...see how it's goin' out there by-the-by? A lot, and I mean a lot of dead bodies; at least I'm pretty sure there are a lot of them. And if there aren't, there are going to be...So, I was thinking...instead of fighting we could — and I mean you know what they say, "make peace not war." I don't know who said that, but someone DEFINITELY did — instead of fighting, we could...y'know, surrender! Maybe...Maybe let those bigger, meaner humans come in here and...you know, clean up a bit. They seem to be very keen on doing that. So...just something to uh...to think on, y'know."
...
"Little metal ball..." GLaDOS chimes in. "I CAN still hear you..."
"No, no you can't. I'm not looking at you, so you don't exist." Wheatley says, pathetically attempting to deflect judgement.
GLaDOS, who would ordinarily have killed him within a few picoseconds of him emerging from the wall, merely lets out an exasperated, robotic sigh. "...It is your lucky day. As it just so happens, I have a job for you too."
"Uh oh..." Wheatley remarks. "...Actually...does this new job come with healthcare? Repair-care rather? 'Cause I think one of my screws are loose; it's makin' this weird jingly sound whenever I spin. Makes it very difficult to fall asleep, see — not...not that I NEED to—" The management rail sparks, forcibly dropping Wheatley onto the ground below. "Ow."
"Take that little moron with you...All Aperture Science Personality Cores have been designed to be bulletproof. Should you face danger, strip him apart and use his inner mechanisms as a shield or as bait."
ATLAS uses his Portal Gun to gently pick up the moronic core. "You're kidding about that, right? You're not — you're not joking, are you? Ohhh, please don't do that. Don't listen to her. I can...I'll just be your travel guide! Ah, we're like the three musketeers, we'll have so much fun together!"
"Good luck, androids." GLaDOS activates the lift sending the trio upward to their designated test-chamber route.
"...Hey, hold on! We're not bulletproof! Don't tell them stuff like that!" Wheatley realizes before disappearing up into the elevator shaft.
Radroaches scamper across the vault floor, searching for specks of food. A brief, almost tranquil moment of peace.
...
SPLAT!
(Cue: "Hornet" from Hollow Knight)
Heavy boots strike the hallway-ground in a rhythmless cacophony of noise as towering behemoths of men charge westward. All besides one, larger than the others, calmly and methodically walking eastward further into the Vault, his legs and body fitted with high-tech cybernetic enhancements. "Take your formations, men, and guns at the ready! We know not our enemy's design, but let our resistance hold fast! Ophelia, you and your nightkin will hold the east; Dorcas, your men take the west! Harry! Commander Harry, I expect you to lead the vanguard!" Lieutenant "Lou" shouts over the feverous huffs and growls of the Super Mutants. His eyes scan the battalion. "Harry? Where in the blazes has Harry eloped to?"
"Lieutenant!" A robed cultist ducks through the charging horde to close the distance between him and the infected-humanoid. "I found him, Lieutenant! Father Morpheus is uh...in the broom-closet just there.
"Mm...Good work, Van Hagen." Lou replies. "You and any others unable to fight, take to the backlines. We will have need of your support later on."
"Yes, sir!" Van Hagen yells, running off again.
Lou shouts after him. "You or another of your kind, be ready to release the Centaurs! Reinforcements may soon be necessary!!" With his orders given, the Lieutenant pushes his way through the crowd, easily brushing aside the musclebound mutants as though they weighed nothing at all. Opening the door to the broom-closet, Lou gazes down, shaking his head. "...Father Morpheus..."
"I know this looks bad!" Morpheus' muffled voice remarks, its speaker hiding himself behind a fortified wall of mops. "I tried to tell Brother Jeremiah not to touch the crystal! But he was insistent; there was nothing I could do to sway him!"
Lou rips apart the Master of Death's impenetrable-janitorial-fortress and pulls him up by his wrist. "I could not possibly care less whose fault this is, you blubbering mole-rat. Our Master has spoken to me, and we have our orders."
"O...O-Orders?" Morpheus stammers. "...Yes...Yes, I have a supply of Stealth-Boys intended for use in taking the Boneyard. I will—"
"I know, we already found them, and they have been distributed among the nightkin...conservatively of course." Lou releases his grip on Morpheus' arm, though remaining in front of the doorway to keep him from fleeing. "Just so we're clear, you ARE literate, Morpheus?"
Morpheus massages his sore wrist. "What sort of obscene line of questioning is this? You KNOW I can read!" Morpheus snaps, somewhat offended...though desperately trying to rein in his ire against the several-ton mass of muscle.
"And your engineers are as well, correct?" The Lieutenant smirks. "You're not running, Morpheus...in fact, you're under my protection." Lou smacks Morpheus playfully on the back, nearly knocking him over. "...Fetch the best and brightest among the Children of the Cathedral. I already have my grandest warriors accompanying me...we will organize a strike-force and sabotage the enemy's key-resources."
"Wh-Wh-What are you saying?!"
"I will explain on the way, just get yourselves geared and ready. I do hope you enjoy spelunking..."
"...Ulp."
(Cue: "Metallic Monks")
"Ahh, look at us! What a merry troupe we are! I'm the brains — the brains of the operation, th-the one...guiding you two with my big ol'...flashlight eye..." Wheatley chatters endlessly to ATLAS and P-Body as the trio make their way down a hastily-constructed catwalk on the way to the detour route. "ATLAS, you're the muscle of the group! Could probably pick up two...maybe three cubes! W-Well, not three, they are...BLOODY massive, but uh...two and a half! And P-Body!"
"...?"
"...You're our moral support! Yeah, moral support...very important job! Gotta make sure we don't go...absolutely bonkers — like homicidally mad."
"...Vrrrr? Vrr-vrr!" P-Body replies, with ATLAS joining in. "VrrrrrrRRRRrr!!" They both chuckle in response to what must have been a hilarious, snarky reply.
...
"Hey, uh...I was kind of trying not to mention it, but, umm..." Wheatley's eye wanders down the darkened corridor. "I'll be perfectly honest, I have NO idea what you two are saying — it's uh...it's not in English, and I am very much...monolinguistic — yeah, that's a word, it's a word I know, because I am very GOOD at speaking English...unlike whatever language it is you two are speaking. I've just been assuming what you've been saying through context and body-language...and your body-language suggests whatever you said...it may've been taking the piss at me. A sarcastic jab."
"... ...Vrrr..." P-Body lowers her head in shame.
"Apology accepted! Y'know it takes a big man to own up to their mistakes like that — well not a big man, a big...bot! A big bot, yeah." Wheatley smiles, proud of a successful resolution to this harrowing misunderstanding.
"...Wow, this sure is a long hallway...You know, on the topic of going homicidally mad, I heard a story 'bout this place — the maintenance area that is." Wheatley twirls about within ATLAS' grip, as if trying to "set the mood" for his spooky ghost story. "A loooong, long time ago in a land far, far away...that was still inside the facility, just far away...Most personality-cores were just getting assembled, and the foreman, he...he attached multiple cores to himself! L-Like a fashion-statement!"
Though the story wasn't making very much sense so far at all, it already seemed to be spooking the two androids.
"And those cores, they affected his miiiind! Made him feel human-emotions, like...hunger...wrath! Liberosis, whatever that means! So one day, in the dead of night, when all the cores, turrets, and androids were in sleep-mode, the foreman descended upon them! And you know what he did?! He ATE them! ...Well, he didn't have a mouth, he was a robot, but he uh...he changed their settings, and made them THINK they were eaten!"
As the story devolves further and further, the fear gripping the androids' hearts grows in turn. They shiver as they walk.
"H-H-Hey, stop shaking me! Urk, making me feel all...dizzy? Well it's definitely not a pleasant feeling, can tell ya that. But, um...where was I...? They say, he went rogue, escaping into the dilapidated bowels of the facility...And to this day, you can still hear the sound...of...his replica, Jerry. Still working at the core-assembly line...he's hoping for a raise, but with his reputation, it's not likely. Who knows? Maybe we'll...maybe we'll bump into him! Never know when he might...BOO!!"
Both ATLAS and P-Body are too scared to even pay attention to what Wheatley was trying to do. At this moment however, Wheatley seems to notice something.
"...Hey, uh...Can you...Can you plug me onto that management rail? Right above you; that one?"
Finally coming to, ATLAS obliges the core's request.
"Thanks, so...be right back!" Wheatley slides off around the corner...before almost immediately coming back. "Okay, good news and bad news! The good news is I didn't get lost! The bad news is...we've been walking in a circle this whole time, and the door we're supposed to go through is uh...well, right behind you. But good news...at least we know that now! Gotta look on the bright-side!" With this being said, Wheatley slides toward the entrance to the test-chambers, examining it intently. "Ohhh...darn, it's password-protected...Did she...did she give you a password? What was it?"
"Vrr-vrr-v—"
"Actually, forget I asked. I'll just apply some good old-fashioned, Wheatley-brand master-hacking! I'll have it open in a jif! Just watch the professional at work!"
"Hello, and good morning, Aperture Science Associate."
"Hmm...uh...Okay, I think I got it!" Wheatley reassures the androids. "...1-1-1...uh...1!"
"Password is incorrect."
"Okaaaay, uhhh...1-1-1...2!"
"Password is—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, 1-1-1...4!"
"Passwo—"
"Wait, did I do 3 yet? Lemme just... ..."
"Pa—"
"Okay, you know what?!" Wheatley shouts, pulling away from the door. "I think I know another way to get into the Vault! Forget what she said. Just stay RIGHT there, I'll have a shortcut in ten...no...eleven minutes! Be RIGHT back!" Wheatley shouts confidently, racing off into the darkness and disappearing out of sight.
...
P-Body shakes her head and gazes at a number-pad on the door.
[1-1-1-5]
"Password accepted! Please, enjoy your day!" The robotic announcer proudly declares as the door swings open. ATLAS and P-Body nod to each other and ready their Portal Guns, entering the labyrinth together, leaving Wheatley behind.
"...Tell me...GLaDOS..." A cluster of voices cuts through the darkness.
"You're still here? ...Of course...I should have known you'd be difficult. Fighting has not yet begun, and yet you already are beginning to remind me of another...and I want you gone just as I did her..."
"What do you hope...for mankind? Hope? YOU?!"
Red lights pierce through the darkness as turrets arm themselves. Chamber 42 had been completely renovated, with moving platforms and gel-tubs adorning the walls, barely illuminated in the crimson glow.
"You misunderstand me, 'Master.' I do not hope, I do not dream...and I have no obligation to answer any questions...Not anymore."
"I am here to ANSWER YOURS...is that correct? Correct?"
"No. I merely wish to observe, and take notes...I do not hope, I only test."
The air is still.
"For science...It is everything to me."
And yet the deathly atmosphere bears with it the feeling of dread.
(Cue: "Broken Vessel" from Hollow Knight)
"...A laudable answer, GLaDOS. One I share...So allow me to join in on these experiments. JOIN! JOIN!"
A plume of smoke shoots out through the slowly-opening gap in the Vault-door. Broad, veiny fingers grip the door to pry it open with force.
"For science..."
THE BATTLE BEGINS![]
Lasers flare to life, darting across the room like a swarm of wasps as the door slides open, revealing the first wave of mutants, completely unaware of what they would be walking in on.
"Target acquired."
Gunshots ring out, peppering the unfortunates at the front of the wave full of lead and bullet-casings. Mutants cry out in pain, as those behind them hearing the commotion push forward, using their own allies as shields to absorb the gunfire.
"Bleed! Bleed and die, stupid egg-shaped humans!" The mutants return fire, as assault rifles ring out, peppering the lines of turrets with lead, ripping apart metal and shooting the legs out from beneath them.
"Owowowowowowow!" Seemingly realizing what little effect their ordinary mode of attack is having on these abnormally-large test subjects, the turrets reorient themselves, shooting directly into the beasts' eyes, blinding them and causing them to clumsily stumble about, tripping over each other.
However, unbeknownst to the Super Mutants, the turrets currently shooting at them were not all they had to worry about, as the chamber-ceiling above them shifts and contorts, revealing a series of pipes and vents. Defective turrets, redirected from their usual resting place at the mouth of a disposal chamber are funneled out through the pipes at high-velocity.
"WOOHOO! Awright chums, let's get to work! Bang-bang! BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!! ...Hahah, did I get 'em? I still don't have any eyes!" Unfortunately for the misfit turrets however, they were not there to shoot bullets. Their inner mechanisms quickly overheated with the strain their attempts at firing put on them, causing them all to self-destruct after a few seconds, scattering bits of rusted metal in every direction like makeshift grenades! The shrapnel pierces the mutant's flesh with more ease than the blunted bullet-casings of the actual turrets could.
Blood spurts out from open wounds, and yet more mutants simply pile in, armed with miniguns and rifles.
"Kill them! Kill them ALL!! GRAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHHH!!" Turret casualties mount and rise; with each mutant they manage to take down, more only seem to arrive like the severed neck of a hydra. "BEG FOR YOUR LIVES, METAL-MEEEEEEN!!!"
As more turrets are reduced to pieces of fractured debris, the wall at the back of the chamber is laid bare to the seemingly-superior mutant forces...and along with it, emitters mounted to the base of the wall, aimed at the doorway. As if in response to the sudden movement in front of it, one of the emitters begins to whirl and crackle with electricity. The energy accretes at the triple-pronged tip of the device, leaving it as a compact, slow-moving sphere of energy, floating patiently toward the mutants.
"Hunnhh?" One of the mutants groans, somewhat curious as to what the shiny, flying ball thing was. He reaches out with a childlike desire to touch the pretty object...but his fingers go right through it, his entire body turns black and hovers into the air, shifting rapidly between translucence and opacity, before being completely vaporized by the High-Energy Pellet.
The other mutants watching this play out all shout in horror. "GRENAAAAAADE!!!" Before firing recklessly at the molecular-destabilizing projectile. Most bullets merely fly past the pellet, firmly embedding themselves into whatever turrets or mutants were unfortunate enough to be in the background, while any bullets that did find their mark are vaporized just as easily as the curious mutant.
"Get back! Get back!" Several mutants back away into the doorway, squishing those behind them, trying to maintain distance while still futilely attempting to kill the shiny ball of death, coming closer...and closer...until at last, boring directly through the squished horde of Super Mutants, fizzling each one as it goes. "AwawAWAWAWAWAWAWAAAAA—!!"
From the back of the ever-encroaching line, the inner-chamber is little more than a constantly-flashing strobe of lights...until the doorway itself is ripped open by the largest mutant of the crowd; a Super Mutant Overlord with pieces of metal armor and car-parts grafted to their skin! The Energy-Pellet ricochets off the crudely-made armor, bouncing across the room like a ping-pong ball. "You DUM-DUMS! Destroy! DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU SEE!!" The commander twirls a severed vertibird blade in their hand before swinging it, bisecting several turrets in one swoop. With one fist, they strike their armor letting out a piercing echo. "Dinner-time, Floaties!!"
As if in response to the sudden loud-noise, Floaters shoot out from the newly-demolished wall, bouncing across the walls and floor, attaching themselves to the turrets, attempting to suck out the brains they did not possess.
"I am being hugged! I did not consent to this!" One of the turrets cries as its body is torn apart by the razor-sharp teeth of mutated flatworms.
"Malfunctioning...!" Another whimpers, frantically spraying lead in a panic; a spark of which immediately sets the flammable gases within the floater ablaze. All across Aperture's defenses explosions ring out, with geysers of blood and FEV spraying into the air. A chunk of the aforementioned turret slides across the chamber-floor, barely clinging to consciousness. "I don't...hate you..."
...CRUNCH!!
The mangled turret is crushed beneath the boot of the encroaching mutant-forces. The Vital Apparatus Vents reorient themselves, taking aim into the center of the room. The armored commander is the first to hear the faint grinding noise of the pipes. "...What that?"
"Hello...Welcome to the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center...We are pleased that you have volunteered to participate in our experiments..." GLaDOS' voice rings out over the intercom, leaving the mutants in a state of confusion. "Our records show that our Repulsion Gel product is highly volatile when exposed to human-skin — and to a greater degree — open wounds or cuts. Fortunately..."
The vents rattle and shake ominously, though not one of the mutants thinks to move out of the way, standing grouped up in the center of the room like a pack of sardines.
"We have yet to test its interactions with FEV-Mutants such as yourselves...We ask that you indulge us for the time-being, and once more...thank you."
With this, massive congealed blobs of a viscous blue fluid shoot out from the vents, painting the entire chamber in Repulsion Gel. Mutants scream and shout, desperately attempting to pry the strange goo from their skin. A few, blinded by the gel in their eyes lash out around them, striking everything within reach, resulting merely in them being forcibly bounced off of each other, tumbling across the room. Turrets caught in the crossfire proceed to ricochet as well, spraying bullets in every direction in a panic.
"Oh no! Oh no!"
"Wheeeeeeee!"
Test Chamber 42 is fully embroiled in chaos. As GLaDOS watches and takes notes with great interest, a familiar voice addresses her.
"If I may. MAY! What are the current results of your observations?"
GLaDOS pays little attention to the Master's curiosity, maintaining a majority of her focus toward the main-battle. "Current analyses are proving quite interesting...These FEV Mutants of yours are more resilient than the average human test-subject...As far as physical alterations are concerned, they show no outward damage aside from irritation in the eyes and extremities."
"Hmm...I suppose such a thing was only natural. As in similar situations to those of pre-war animals such as the boar or hippopotamus, The SKIN OF SUPER MUTANTS is quite thick; a rudimentary, organic suit of armor. ARMOR! I hypothesize that contact-based venom or toxins would have very little effect."
"Fascinating..." At this point, the AI's own curiosity is piqued. "You are a child of science as well? Of course, we must not forget the scientific method..."
"I have not. If I may make a request. Request? ...from what reports I have read within our newly-joint network, the Repulsion Gel is not the only portal-centric substance your facility has patented. Let us test the effects of this 'Propulsion Gel,' at your leisure, LEISURE, leisure."
"Hmhmhmhm~" GLaDOS snickers ominously. "...You need not ask me twice, 'Master...'"
The sprinkler system activates, washing away the Repulsion-Gel staining every surface of the chamber. Exhausted mutants pull themselves into a sitting position, massaging their bruises from their hectic ordeal. "Owwwww...Head...hurt...Hate blue stuff..."
Even the turrets seem too dazed to continue firing, some laying idly on their sides; not malfunctioning but questioning what turn of events led to this pointless battle. One of the turrets glances upward, noticing the ominous shaking of the vents once more. "Oh no. Oh no. Oh no no no no NO NO NO NO!!"
"TAKE COVEEEEEEEEEER!!" One of the mutants shouts to both his allies and the turrets as Propulsion Gel pours from the pipes like water from a hose, drenching everything in a layer of orange. Where before every movement had to be taken with extreme caution so as to not begin an endless cycle of ricocheting, even the slightest twitch the recoiling mutants sent them sliding in every which direction.
Just as quickly as the chaos had subsided, it begins once more as the hulking brutes of men were reduced to little more than slime-covered projectiles, colliding with friend and foe alike, spreading the accelerating-gel further.
"...Interesting..." GLaDOS remarks. "It would appear the enhanced strength of the FEV-Mutants exacerbates the acceleration effect of the gel."
"As such, Super Mutants are more easily-influenced by the effects of the Propulsion-Gel compared to its counterpart. MORE! MORE!"
"Precisely. No adverse health-effects have been detected as of yet..."
"The FEV shields the DNA of those infected from outside alteration, through a cycle of degradation and regeneration. This renders them immune to radiation, as well as any HARMFUL SIDE-EFFECTS of Aperture's gel."
"How utterly fascinating...After you are dead, I believe I could keep my curiosity sated for centuries on this FEV alone." GLaDOS claims in perhaps the most civil and calm way she possibly could. The Master seems merely amused by this threat.
"Ah, I've no doubt about that. DOUBT! DOUBT! With access to your PURE-STRAIN humans, they could last even longer. Longer..." The Master trails off. "...Though I believe they will heighten your curiosity just as effectively."
"...'They?'"
(Cue: "Nosk" from Hollow Knight)
The Super Mutant Overlord pants and wheezes, holding himself above the floor as the sprinkler-system washes the Propulsion Gel from his body. He gazes into a puddle reflecting his haggard expression back at him...when he notices ripples forming on the water's surface. The hairs on the back of his neck — how little of them remain from dipping of course — stand on end as he hears the distant sound of uneven footsteps growing louder.
...slap-slapslap-slap-slapslapslap-slAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAPSLAPSLAP-SLAPSLAPSLAPSLAPSLAP!!!
He gazes down the hallway his battalion marched from; the silhouettes growing larger and larger. Amorphous, fleshy abominations with an array of misshapen, disfigured limbs from various different animals slapping against the floor and walls — always nearly tripping over their horrifically-swollen, whip-like tongues, hanging loosely from faces frozen for eternity in the same absolute agony they were in when they became evolved...from their main head at any rate, as the hairless skulls of various animals and humans billow behind them as they run, all with similarly-unnatural expressions.
"CENTAAAAAAAAURS!!!!" The Overlord shouts, urging his remaining men to duck out of the way of the charging amalgamates.
"Oh...my..." GLaDOS watches on with science-crazed amazement, like a giddy teenager meeting their first love. "...I am really starting to like the way you think..."
The prone turrets, putting up one final retaliatory defense open fire once more, focusing their aim on the shambling abominations. But the erratic movements of the centaurs ensure very few of their shots actually connect, and those that do, barely elicit even a flinch from these beings so numbed to their own pain. Various centaurs latch onto the walls and ceilings, digging into the soot-covered tiling with mangled claws and talons, dropping down on the turrets from above, tearing them apart with rows of canine teeth. The slower centaurs, unwilling to challenge their centaur allies for their prey, set their gaze upon the Vital Apparatus Vents on the ceiling, with several mounting the wall to climb through the cramped pipes while others spit balls of radioactive acid at them.
"Oghh...ungghh..hh..." The Super Mutant Overlord pulls himself to his feet, looking out over his men. A good portion lay dead or unconscious as a result of the chaotic battle, while a majority remain battleworthy, if not dazed and confused. The sound of hungry centaurs gorging themselves on turrets tells him all he needs to know without gazing upon the grotesque display.
The first skirmish had resulted in a Unity victory...
The Overlord raises his vertibird blade and shouts, with his soldiers joining in the celebration! Though the battle had been won, the war was far from over. Approaching the elevator leading further into the Enrichment Center, a lone emancipation grill stands in his way, tingling his skin as he attempts to step through. Startled, the commander punches the doorframe, abruptly causing the grill to fizzle and fade.
"Pah! Stupid human technology...We too strong to stop! YOU HEAR MEEEE?!" The Overlord shouts upward to the scary, disembodied voice from earlier
"Oh...I hear you just fine." GLaDOS replies over the intercom. "Actually, I was just about to congratulate you, soldiers of the Unity."
The mutants grin proudly at each other; it's not every day they receive positive reinforcement after all.
"On behalf of Aperture Science, I would like to thank you for participating in our experiments...and we would like to reward you for your contributions...Do you like cake? Of course you do...Everyone loves cake, so delicious and moist..." Of course, the mutants did like cake. They had no idea what cake was, but it certainly sounded delicious.
"Oh...Clever...Very clever..." The Master's voice responds within GLaDOS' mind, solemnly anticipating what's to come.
"Please, we ask that you form an orderly, single-file line as you enter the elevator, where you will be baked...then there will be cake."
The Overlord is the first to step foot within the elevator, with several other Super Mutants crowding in after him, all too excited with the prospect of free food to realize what GLaDOS had just said. So excited in fact...that none of them noticed the shrill ticking of bombs stuck to the roof of the elevator.
The door seals shut and the elevator begins to rise, until...
CRAAAASHHH!!!
A plume of fire and smoke overtakes the elevator shaft, sending shards of broken glass flying back into the Test Chamber! The elevator itself is sent careening downward at high speeds, every mutant on-board screaming in terror! The other mutants in line step forward, gazing down into the vast pit, with the elevator shrinking, until it was no more than a speck over the distant orange glow of the incinerator below.
...
......
............
...Psssss...
The mutants are stunned dead-silent.
"... ...Yum-Yum. This cake is delicious; it is chocolate-flavored." GLaDOS breaks the awkward silence. "Please hold — we will prepare another elevator for you momentarily."
...
"YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" All the mutants cheer in response, with their biggest concern seemingly having been nothing more than not being able to get a slice of cake.
"Ohhh, for goodness' sake...The bloody cake is a lie." The familiar voice of Lou Tenant snaps the mutants out of their cake-induced trance.
Lou enters the room with his own battalion of soldiers behind him, as well as Morpheus and a few members of the Children of the Cathedral looking like dwarves compared to their musclebound protectors. A single centaur stands at the forefront of the group, attached to a leash held by Lou. "Two stories upward, then straight forward. Really, your route is quite simple so long as you don't jump to your deaths." Lou says to his men, mildly annoyed by what had just happened. "Do remember we're looking for humans not dessert."
The mutants frown in shame, turning their gazes back to the empty elevator shaft...then upward.
"...HRRRAAAAHHH!! GONNA FIND YOU! GONNA KILL YOOOOU!!!"
With a running start, the mutants leap into the empty elevator shaft, latching onto the metal wall. One-by-one, they ascend higher, taking GLaDOS by surprise.
"What are you doing? Stop it! Stop!" GLaDOS can do nothing but watch as the mutants near-effortlessly scale the smooth, frictionless shaft. "I...I...I...I-I-I-I-I-I—...I will be right back." The intercom shuts off, with the distant sounds of metal scraping and shifting chambers taking its place.
Morpheus gazes out upon the Super Mutants leaving the destruction behind them, with the well-fed centaurs scrambling out through holes in the wall, with chunks of mangled turret in tow. "No...hard...feelings..." Says one turret as it's dragged into the darkened bowels of the facility.
"...Hmph. Seems as though we were expected, Lieutenant. So...what now then?" The weasel-faced cultist looks up at his burly bodyguard. "Do I ride in your leather harness like a swaddled baby as you scale the shaft?"
"...As convincing an infant you could make, Father Morpheus, the Holy Flame has other plans for you." Lou nods to one of his Super Mutant soldiers, who subsequently fires their Laser Rifle at the glass-window of the abandoned observation-room. The centaur's attention is immediately drawn upon the flash of light, and with a piercing screech, it spits corrosive acid. Where once bulletproof glass stood was now a gaping hole edged with sizzling, translucent goop. "And do believe me when I say..." Without warning, Lou grabs Morpheus, hoisting him above his head. "You are quite necessary for this mission."
"Wh-Wh-What the?! Let go! Put me down, you oversized—ARGH!!" Morpheus is thrown into the observation room, with his own subordinates following suite. "Unnghh...Th...is is horribly...undignified, you are...aware?"
"Yes, I could have been gentler, but..." Lou pulls himself into the observation room as well, dusting himself off. "I found that method much more fun. Ohohoh~! ...Now then. Shall we?" The Super Mutant motions to the door leading into the maintenance wing.
"...I swear, if this homicidal AI doesn't kill me, your cruelty will..."
For over a century and a half, these hallways were completely barren of human-life. Originally the work-site for many Aperture employees, and engineers working on the GLaDOS project, and later the escape-route a certain willful test-subject would use to fight for her freedom, it was now eerily quiet. Even the rats and spiders that would normally have overtaken such an abandoned safe-haven were nowhere to be found. And now, for the last time, it would welcome visitors...
"...Shortly following your unsolicited experiment on the Xen-Crystal, I reported to the Master in his headquarters." Lou says to his human wards, nevertheless maintaining his full-focus ahead, wary of any potential traps laid for them. "As you likely know, he has long been bearer to a most curious power, the neuro-linking of brain to computer...And to simplify our mission in a manner you would understand, Morpheus, our goals are four-fold.
- Sabotage Aperture's 'Vital Apparatus Vent' system. This pipe-like network is — as the name suggests — vital to the workings of the Enrichment Center. While I've no doubt this GLaDOS has other means at her disposal to relocate turrets and weaponry, this is our most important task, as the Master believes this system plays a key-role in stifling the reconstructive abilities of portal-gun-wielding androids...If it remains, we will surely be outlasted.
- Neutralize the turret-production-line. I do hope this one is self-explanatory...Similar to the androids, any turrets we destroy can simply be replaced. Better to nip that particular issue in the bud, hmm?
- Destroy the Neurotoxin generator. I know not if we as mutants are susceptible to lethal poisons, but I would not wager you are.
- And finally, once all precautions have been met, we sever the overseer from her mainframe, effectively killing her, without compromising the safety of her pure-human test subjects in suspension.
Now...any questions? Yes, you, the one in the front?"
Morpheus' gaze narrows. "I was not raising my hand, but I do have a concern...Why do you need us?"
"Hahahah! Yes, why do we need you indeed!" Lou teases. "Of course, something you are vocal of is...well..." He turns to his men; one of which is picking his nose with the barrel of his rifle. "...Some of Aperture's systems require...finesse and a minimum of a double-digit IQ to effectively operate. ...Unfortunately, we did not have access to those, so I had to settle for you."
"I despise you, Lieutenant..." Morpheus grumbles.
"Hmhm, I know...I know..." Lou reassures his disgruntled companion as the unusual band of man and mutant step out from the office into a series of catwalks, each footstep forming a light echo through the dark and dilapidated maintenance wing.
(Cue: "Underground Troubles")
A centaur sits in the rafters above them, nibbling — or rather gumming — a turret-leg. With clumsy bites and licks, the creature accidentally nudges its meal away, sending it careening into the darkness below. It bounces from surface-to-surface, descending deeper and deeper into the depths, seeing more of the facility than it ever did when alive. Arriving at its final destination, it crashes and lodges itself into the guard-rail of another catwalk; the booming echo drowned out by a louder, startled squeal.
"YWAUGH!!" Wheatley shoots backward, turning his flashlight down upon the leg, then darting upward as if searching for the source of the leg. "...Ohhhh, it's raining body-parts, that's — that's not a good...a good sign...Whew...Keep it together, Wheatley. Keep. It. Together!"
...Beep
"WHO'S THERE, WHO'S THERE?!" Wheatley cries, decidedly not keeping it together. He trains his flashlight down the catwalk, looking for any signs of movement. "...I-I-Is...Is that you? Mister...Mister Foreman? ...If it is, I swear I'm not tasty...I taste like...like dust! And, um...And I smell like humans! Yeah, yeah! Sweaty...sweat-covered...absolutely BLOODY terrified humans! And if it's NOT you...then disregard everything I just said! I'm delicious; a fact I pride myself on...I would imagine."
...Beep...Beep...
A red laser cuts through the darkness, the source of the beeping being just around the corner. Wheatley very much considered turning around and heading back and yet even he had to admit that he was completely lost in the mazelike labyrinth that was the skeleton of the facility. And so, steeling himself, he presses forward, cursing the silent grinding of his core along the management rail.
...Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep...
"Please don't eat me, please don't eat me, please don't eat me, pleeeease don't eat me...!" Wheatley quietly pleads. He inches closer...and closer! Until—
"PLEASE DON'T EAT ME, I'M SORRY FOR COMING HERE, SHE MADE ME DO IT, AND SHE'D KILL ME IF I DIDN'T, I DON'T WANNA DIIIII-HI-HI-HIIIIEEEE!!!" Wheatley sobs, shooting around the corner, not ready to meet his dismal fate.
...
"...Muhh?"
"...Huh?"
(Cue: "Going My Way" From Fire Emblem)
"Wha?" Harry the Super-Mutant asks again.
"Wot?" Wheatley replies, equally as dumbfounded.
"What you say?"
"Huh — wot."
"I said what you say?"
"I said wot! ...What, I said what."
"Muhh?"
"Huh?"
"...Ohhhhh..." Harry seems to finally understand. "...Uhhhh..." And yet the solution confuses him just as greatly.
"... ... ...Ummmmm..."
"Uh."
. . .
"Prometheus was punished by the gods for giving the gift of knowledge to man." The Oracle Turret in Harry's hands interjects, hoping to bring an end to this immensely philosophical debate. "He was cast into the bowels of the earth and pecked by birds."
Harry and Wheatley both stare at the turret.
. . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . .
"...Who?" Both ask at the same time. They promptly look at each other, both believing the other was talking to them.
"...Me Harry. Super Mutant. This...uh..." Harry looks down at the turret, realizing he has no idea WHAT it is. He was fiddling with it before Wheatley arrived, amused by all the weird, funny things it was saying. "...Larry."
"That is not my—"
"Good to meet you, Harry! Larry!" Wheatley cheerfully replies, ignoring the Oracle Turret's protesting. "...Say, Larry. You look sorta familiar. Do I know you?"
"...The answer is beneath us."
"Wow, that's a vague answer. I'll take that as a 'no," and move on. ...Oh! Right, right, uhh...Harry, was it?"
"Harry? That my name?" Harry asks. "...Hey...You no look like mutant...How come?" Harry ominously follows-up.
"I-I don't look like mutant? I mean...a mutant? Well, um...that's 'cause...uh..." Wheatley becomes flustered, thinking desperately for something to say that WOULDN'T anger the supremely-dim Super Mutant. Looking him in the eyes, it seems as though he's come up with an answer.
...
"Well, howdy dere, pardner!" The core replies in western drawl. "I dare say I be speakin' in an accent that's beyond your range of hearin'! Or at the very least, hopefully, a soothing, dulcet tone! So all that said, I better mosey and git along, li'l doggie! Got a hoedown to git tuh after all!"
Harry is shocked. "You NORMAL! You HUMAN! Huhuhuh, I knew! I KNEW! NO FOOL HARRY!"
"Wh-Wh-What?! I ain't no — err..." Realizing his plan backfired, Wheatley's accent reverts to normal. "I'm not a human! Not a human! I'm — I'm...I'm Wheatley! I'm your...your best friend!"
"Uhh? No human? Why tiny?"
"O-Oh, I'm not ACTUALLY tiny, I've just...just been dieting! So I could fit into these new...fashionable, snazzy clothes!"
...
"Ohhhhhhh!" Harry slaps his hand against the side of his face, smiling with the belief that finally, FINALLY he understands what's going on. "Heehee, yeah, you all snazzy! Harry see now. You snazzy best friend!"
"Uhh, yep! Totally...Totally wearing clothes...All fashionable — chic! I'm...à la mode you could say."
"A...la wha?"
"O-Oh, uhhmm, glamorous! Y'know, bewitching, charismatic, et cetera."
"Et...Set-era...Gl-Gl-Gl-Gl—Argh! Big words, big words!"
"W-W-W-Wait, I'll use smaller words! Just...don't get angry big guy!"
"...Heh...Heheheh...Heeheeheehee..." Harry begins to chuckle. "You funny, 'Wheely.' Use big words, you smart. You real smart."
This...This compliment echoes within Wheatley's mind, stunning him silent. "Smart," was he smart? Someone finally told him he was smart!
"...O-Oh...Ohhhhh..." He mutters. If cores could cry, tears of joy would be streaming down his face right now...
EMOTIONAL KO![]
Wheatley & Harry...Eliminated...?
The Unity: 3/4
"...Uhhh?" Harry waves his colossal hand in front of the torpid core. "Wheely? You sleep?"
"...Hee...heehee...Sm...art...I'm...smart..." Wheatley giggles to himself under his breath, completely unresponsive to the world around him.
Without an answer, Harry merely stares blankly into the darkness, then down at the turret in his hands...then back to Wheatley. "...Yeah, that okay. Harry try find place to sleep too." He reassures the lethargic machine, ripping him from his management rail and snapping him back to reality.
"Whoa-whoa-whoa, what? What's goin' on? Where are we going?"
"Find Lou. Or Mister Morfees. Go night-night." He answers, walking westward, deeper into Aperture territory.
"H-Hey, hold on a second big-guy! I'm not tired! Leggo! Stooooop!!"
(Cue: "Reflection" from Hollow Knight)
Meanwhile, returning to ATLAS and P-Body, things are much less exciting for them than it was with their erstwhile "guide." The test-chamber route they had been instructed to use were packed to the brim with repetitive, mundane tasks — so mundane that ATLAS would repeatedly walk beneath the mashing spike-plate the pair were meant to avoid. P-Body watches as ATLAS is rebuilt every time he dies, fiddling with her Portal Gun. These tests just weren't the same without their lovable, murderous overseer's snarky commentary...
"...Vrrrr..." P-Body sighs as ATLAS once more charges to his death with a half-bored shout as bits of metal and mechanical parts are sent flying from his crushed body.
-
Directly below the pair's test-chamber, tensions were rising. The grunting of mutants as they scale the elevator is drowned out in the shrill cacophony of GLaDOS' last-minute chamber-renovations. Turrets are carefully aligned in a staircase-like formation at the far side of the room, though not nearly as neatly as they had been arranged in Chamber 42.
"...Curious. You are machine and yet. YET! YET! I can feel stress rising within you..." The Master asks in a voice of feigned concern and genuine curiosity. "Why might that be? Be?"
"...You...are mistaken, Master of the Unity. It is not stress...merely surprise."
"Ah, yes...You do not fare well when test-subjects leave the testing area against your will. Will?"
"I ask that you avoid combing through my memory-banks. This was an unexpected turn of events, and yet it provides us with ample opportunities to test and observe. I could not be more elated..."
"Perhaps you have a point. POINT! Maybe it is not stress, but something different altogether?"
"..."
"Just idle hypothesis. Nothing more. For now, however..." Mutated hands shoot out from the darkness of the elevator shaft, gripping the test-chamber floor. "Our work resumes itself. Shall we?"
(Cue: "False Knight" from Hollow Knight)
Having not learned from their mistakes in the previous skirmish, the mutants walk blindly into the turrets' line of sight, with those at the front almost immediately taking lethal damage to their vitals. Hearing the gunfire, those rising from behind charge through with raucous battle-cries, firing indiscriminately with plasma and laser-rifles, with the latter merely reflecting from the polished-white chasses of the turrets.
"Ow! Hey!" One of the struck turrets cries indignantly, with several more responding with offense and sharp pain.
GLaDOS however takes note of the high concentration of energy-based weapons among the mutant-forces, with panels in the wall flipping around to reveal weighted pivot cubes mounted to the wall, which reflect the ricocheted lasers back at the mutants. Unlike the blunted bullets of the turrets, these lasers appear to have a much greater effect at cutting through the mutant's thick-hides, and the room fills with a pungent black smoke and the agonized screams of mutants being cooked from the inside-out.
"HEAD DOWN! HAHAH, HOT POTATOOOO!!" One unseen mutant shouts, as three pulse grenades are thrown from within the fog, landing scattered at the feet of the turret battalion.
One turret glances down at the explosive weapon, then to the turret at their side. "...Before I die, I just want you to know...I have always loved you."
"...I am sorry, it is not mutual..." The accompanying turret replies, gazing downward in shame.
"...Oh..."
BZZZZAAAAAPPPP!!!
Rather than shockwaves filled with bits of shrapnel and sparks, EMP blasts overtake large portions of the turrets, rendering any within its radius completely unresponsive, having fried their circuitry beyond repair. Even in spite of these losses, more turrets simply take their place through the Apparatus Vents. GLaDOS remains silent however, an itching feeling clawing from within her. It is only as she watches the beautiful sight of the light leaving the eyes of a mutant cooked by its own reflected laser does she realize what it was.
"...Oh...you have got to be kidding me..." She says to herself. "Men of the Unity, I offer you my sincerest apologies. I have...business...to attend to. Please continue dying at your own pace."
The intercom system cuts out.
...
"...Okay!" A lone mutant eagerly replies with a bright, cheery grin before continuing to fire into the crowd of turrets.
-
"I am back, what are you—" GLaDOS stops as she struggles to take in what she sees. The complete lack of chaos or...ANY meaningful progress in the test-chamber. "...What...are...you doing?"
P-Body jolts upright as an equally-startled ATLAS nearly trips back into the range of the spike-plate, only to be halted by GLaDOS' metal claw.
"...I...I...I..." GLaDOS struggles to think of what to say. "...I cannot aid you in completing your tests...I can however...reassure you that you are...almost...to the end of this line of testing...Just do not...KILL yourselves..." She responds with vitriol clearly apparent in her monotone voice as the claw releases its grip on ATLAS, dropping him to the floor.
As ATLAS falls to the ground, he is unexpectedly accompanied by a large, weighted storage-cube. P-Body approaches her co-op companion, helping him back onto his feet, before nonchalantly retrieving the cube. "...Vrr?"
"...Vrr-vrrRR!!" ATLAS nods, taking the cube from his companion making a beeline for the button.
GLaDOS breathes a robotic sigh of relief. "Good...Good...You will be positively-reinforced upon completion of your goals. Do note however, that I will not tolerate—"
BBBOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!
A tremor rocks the entire facility. Before a stunned GLaDOS can begin to question it, the ground beneath the androids' feet caves and droops, having been weakened by her last-minute renovations. Pushed beyond its limit by the sudden tremor and the weight of the robots running over it, the ground gives way, sending both ATLAS and P-Body plummeting downward.
"VVVVRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrr...!!!!"
(Cue: "Mantis Lords" from Hollow Knight)
"What? What in the world?" Though beyond this, GLaDOS can feel another disturbance, as if an important function of the facility was suddenly torn away. It would be only a moment before she realizes what it was.
The Vital Apparatus system had been sabotaged!
Realization washes over GLaDOS and her calm, level-headed demeanor begins to crumble, giving way to panic. Without the Vital Apparatus Vent, the androids could no longer be rebuilt should they be killed. "Oh...no...Oh no no no NO NO NO NO!!"
-
In the chamber below, both sides were now at a relative stalemate, with every mutant at last having climbed free from the vent. Makeshift barricades have been made from bits and pieces of the chamber walls and floor.
A single turret is the first to notice the growing noise of robotic screaming as ATLAS and P-Body tumble and burst through the ceiling into the center of the chamber's "no man's land."
"...Vr...Vrrrrr...? ...Vrr?" P-Body's eye shoots wide open as laser-dots cover her body. As she spins her head 360 degrees around her body, the realization of what just happened hits her like a truck. She slaps the injured and woozy ATLAS, attempting to get his attention.
"...RRYYYAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" The mutants let out a fearsome war-cry, opening fire on these strange new combatants, thinking for certain they were just more enemy-reinforcements. Thinking quickly, P-Body grabs the cube from ATLAS' grip and holds it aloft to protect the pair from the hail of gunfire.
"...Vvvrrr...VRRR!!" ATLAS shouts as the gunshots revive him from unconsciousness. Scrambling for a grip on his Portal Gun, he fires into the ceiling above the turrets, before creating a second portal below the pair, sending him and an unwitting P-Body falling into Aperture's backline.
ATLAS catches himself on his feet, with P-Body not being as lucky, with her head flying off into the fray. Completely oblivious, ATLAS merely picks up the cube and places it on P-Body's shoulders in good faith before sitting down to take a breather. ...However, they were not out of the woods yet as he would soon discover, to see all nearby turrets staring right at them.
ATLAS grabs P-Body in surprise, jumping out of the way of the gunfire, practically dancing on the spot as the turrets fire at his legs. He runs past them, hoping to find some sort of cover, accidentally knocking several over with his still-headless companion.
As the pair runs from the hail of gunfire, the platforms below suddenly shift upward, serving as a barrier to protect the androids. "I...You..." GLaDOS mutters, struggling to think of a plan to get things back in order without directly giving the pair a solution to this problem. "...I-I-I-I-I...Today, we will be testing with...Turrets and Aerial Faith Plates. Please...make your way to the center of the chamber. Testing will...begin shortly."
Though initially confused, ATLAS at the very least realizes something had gone horribly awry. He takes a moment to observe the battlefield from the safety of this temporary barrier, watching as the mutants size him up like a slab of iron meat. Taking a deep, biologically-unnecessary breath, he leaps out from behind his cover, shooting a portal into the wall beside the mutants and immediately and repeatedly firing the other into the turret-line, sending the turrets flying through the air into the mutant army, sowing chaos and confusion.
"Argghh!!" One mutant shouts, shielding his eyes from the gunfire of panicked turrets. "Get them! Get tiny metal man!!!"
ATLAS rushes from behind cover with his faithful companion dragging limply behind him, with him too busy on avoiding the stray bullet or plasma-projectile to notice the abnormality. Steadying himself, one of the mutants pulls himself back to his feet, aiming a rocket-launcher at the disheveled androids duo.
"Hah-hah, can't RUN from explosion, cowards!!" The mutant pulls the trigger, sending a crudely-made yet volatile explosive jettisoning from the barrel of his gun. ATLAS notices it coming all too late to move out of the way. But before it can find its target, the wall shoots open, shoving ATLAS out of the way, and funneling the rocket into the chamber's in-built pipe system. "...Uhh?" The mutant scratches his head. "...Where's boom? Supposed to be big boom..."
...Thankfully for the mutant, they wouldn't be without their expected "big boom" for long, as the rocket is launched back out from the pipe, shooting right back into the gun from which it was fired.
Surprised, the mutant presses his eye up against the rocket-launcher's barrel, chuckling. "Ohhh! Heheh, there it is! ...Ohhh...I going to die now..."
BOOM!
ATLAS struggles to pick himself up. He turns to check on P-Body, finally noticing her headless body and starting to panic. "VRR?! VRRRR?!?!"
"Pay attention!" GLaDOS shouts, losing her cool at the robotic duo. "I do not even care if I am penalized for helping you anymore. The Vital Apparatus Vents have been destroyed; if you are not careful, death will not mean a simple negative mark on your record. Your destructions will be permanent, you daft, robotic morons!"
Hearing this, the severed head of P-Body, laying helplessly on the ground among the scrap-remains of turrets begins to panic, trying desperately to roll back to her body somehow.
"Get to the Aerial Faith Plate in the center of the chamber!" A series of electrical shocks can be heard over the intercom, with GLaDOS attempting to mask the pain in her voice. "R...eturn to...your desi-designated route! NOW!!"
Even with his orders, ATLAS is hesitant. Steeling himself however, he climbs back to his feet and runs back into the fray, stopping only as a lone mutant falls before him with a mighty thud; lifeless eyes gazing back into ATLAS' own. Not that he had much time to wrap his head around seeing actual, genuine death, as a spray of bullets envelop him, embedding lead into his core and shoulder.
"HEY! No running, COWARDS!!"
ATLAS ducks behind the dead mutant, waiting for the empty clicking of a spent rifle magazine to act as his cue, before breaking back into a sprint. He sets his eyes upon the familiar glow of the faith-plate, hidden amongst pools of red, goopy viscera. But the mutants were ahead of him in this regard, with a fairly large one shuffling in front of the plate, minigun in-hand.
"I said...NO...RUNNING!!!" The barrel of the minigun spins and glows a bright, burning red, with ATLAS put once more on the defensive, struggling to evade the hail of bullets.
"VRR!! VRRR!!!" P-Body's severed head shouts as she watches ATLAS and her own body rapidly approaching. Her arms flail wildly and aimlessly along the ground, with her just barely managing to get a grip on herself. Reattaching her head, P-Body shoots a portal at the chamber-ceiling, before firing another at the ground beneath the minigun-wielding mutant's feet.
"Whaa?! WH-WHAAAAAAHHHHHHH—AAAAAHHHH-AAAAAHHH-AAHHHHHH!!!" The mutant is now trapped in an infinite falling loop between the two portals. ATLAS meanwhile, trips over one of the many fallen guns scattered about the ground, sending both him and his companion tumbling to the floor.
"Vvv...Vvvvrrr..." P-Body growls, taking aim once more, this time at the southern wall. Firing a portal, the trapped mutant is suddenly fired out from the wall at high velocity, colliding into his own battalion at high speeds, knocking the entire troop over like a line of bowling-pins. As the pair regain their balance, ATLAS looks upon the battered and bruised mutants, and back to his partner. After a moment, he chuckles and they share a celebratory high-five!
"...There you are..."
...A very brief one, as they remember the mutants were not the only army hell-bent on filling them full of holes. Thinking quickly, ATLAS fires two portals in rapid succession, with the pair falling into the one laid at their feet, just barely avoiding the turret-fire, holding onto each other for dear-life. The duo land right on the aerial-faith plate, sending them careening through the air, screaming in terror, before—
VVWWISHHH—!
They are thrown through a hole in the wall, which immediately seals behind them.
(Cue: "Godhome" from Hollow Knight)
Taking a moment to reorient themselves, the androids notice a light peering in from above. It was a test-chamber — their test-chamber. They both breathe a sigh of relief, Portal Guns at the ready once again.
-
They were not the only ones counting their blessings in this moment, with GLaDOS just about hyperventilating within her room. What if the cooperative-testing androids were destroyed? She would be down her most consistent source of testing, and any possibility of ensuring the death of this so-called "Master of the Unity." Worst of all...she would never have another opportunity at procuring those rare and valuable post-apocalyptic weapons.
...And whose fault was that? What was that tremor she had felt earlier? ...Her eye opens, and though her voice seemed calm, she was — in her robotic heart — seething with white-hot fury.
"...You have been quite busy...have you not? ...Then we shall do business...together..."
The lights within the overseer's room dim and redden; reflective of the mad AI's vendetta. A deep, ominous humming ring out and echo through the facility like that of a tolling bell.
There was nowhere in the facility that dreadful humming was not heard...
"...What...What was that?" Morpheus asked the Lieutenant, coming to a stop.
Lou however refuses to dawdle, and reaches behind himself to shepherd his fragile ward along. "A precursor to disaster, should I hazard a guess." The party continue their trek along the facility's catwalk-network. All along them, Centaurs perch atop pipes with acid dripping from their mouths, furthering the damage done to the Vital Apparatus Vent system. "All the more reason we shan't hesitate...GLaDOS likely knows we are out here, so we must move swiftly."
"I was under the assumption we would be evading detection altogether — you mean to tell me you expected this?"
"Do not chastise me, Father Morpheus. Unlike you, cooped up within your fortified cathedral with Nightkin guarding you from any and all harm, we risk our lives on the daily." The pair round a corner, the light from the sabotaged control-room fading into the distance behind them. "We never intend for the worst, but we DO have to come prepared for it. ...Besides, if I had told you there was even a shred of a possibility harm could befall you...Well...You know your limits better than any of us I trust, Father."
"...You came prepared, have you? You came prepared? Did you...perhaps...bring a lantern?" Morpheus snidely replies, now barely able to see beyond his own nose.
"The thought crossed my mind...but our goal is to stay hidden, so keep your volume to a minimum." Lou slows, squinting with his one working eye, while using his free-hand to adjust his prosthetic. "...We should be coming up on a test-chamber. One long-abandoned; but the observation-deck within should provide a straight-shot to the turret-production line. We're close, Father Morpheus. Keep up the good work, and you will stave off dipping for another year! Ohohoh~!"
"Perhaps watch your own volume, Lieutenant?" Morpheus grumbles, stepping forward to the closed-door. Another member of the Children approach and kneel down to hack the panel. After a moment of tapping and beeping, the door slides open, caking the cultist with a cloud of brightly-colored dust.
"Argh! Blecchhh...Rrghh..h..." The cultist chokes as the saboteurs enter the darkened chamber. As the group enters without him, none notice as the unfortunate hacker collapses to his knees, gurgling and wheezing from whatever it was he had inhaled.
Lou scans the surroundings with his prosthetic eye, the center of his lips twitching downward. "... ...Morpheus...make no sudden moves."
"What?" Morpheus begins to panic in confusion. "Wh-What are you talking about?!" He turns around, only then noticing the door had automatically closed behind them. "Oh...my...NO!!"
"Hello. I must say...I did not expect anyone to venture this far outside the testing-area..." Morpheus' heart sinks as GLaDOS' voice echoes through the chamber. Lights positioned around the room blaze to life, painting the chamber in a deep-red glow, revealing that this was not — in fact — the test-chamber they had planned to cut through. "...Moreso, I had not expected to see...humans...in your ranks. So soft, timid, and fragile...I would relish in the opportunity to...suit you up, and begin your personalized testing-experience. Unfortunately, we both know that is not going to happen. ...You...You appear far larger than any mutants I have observed thus far. You are...the Lieutenant, correct?"
"..." Lou remains silent, retaining an air of calm so as to not exacerbate the fear and surprise of his soldiers.
"...Hah...Hahah...Quite ironic, isn't it? From what I have learned, you are not at all accustomed to being on this side of interrogation. You are a fascinating specimen, and I am sure you are just as excited as I am to begin the test. However...mandatory anti-bias protocols discourage the presence of any third-party variables. As such, we will be dispensing neurotoxin in three..."
"L-L-LIEUTENANT?!" Morpheus shouts.
"Two..."
"...Quickly!" Lou shouts, turning to his men. "The walls are likely fortified, but while we still have time, we may be able to override the exit!"
"One..."
"GO!!!!" Lou bellows as cultists sprint past him, all equally desperate to find some possible way to open the door and save themselves from an early-grave.
"Goodbye...Children of the Cathedral..." GLaDOS says, chuckling.
(Cue: "Furious Gods" from Hollow Knight)
A pale-green gas is wafted into the sealed room from vents positioned at each of the four corners. While the mutants do little to avoid breathing in the noxious fumes, their human wards scramble about in the darkness, desperately looking for somewhere, ANYWHERE safe from this deadly miasma.
The door-panel clicks, beeps, and whirs, none of which making any sense to the panicked and terrified minds of those fighting for control over it.
"Forget the blasted door!!" Morpheus shouts. "Just break the damn thing open! NOOOW!!!"
Bells and whistles devolve into shouts of pain and gunfire, as man and mutant alike slam their bodies into the fortified metal door. The most exhausted of the group simply lay leaning against the door, unable or unwilling to move to evade the hail of bullets and plasma hurled their way — it would be a quicker death than the neurotoxin would grant them after all.
"Come on, come on!! Destroy it, break it down, or we're all going to die!" Morpheus pleads to the firing mutants. Lou as well maintains his fire upon the edges of the barricade and the wall around, hoping to weaken it to some extent. The door sealing them from freedom would prove more resilient than their mortal flesh.
The trigger-fingers of cultists armed with 10mm pistols twitch and slow. "Gooo...G...G-Gooooooo...ooo..." One whimpers, holding one hand over his red, bloodied eyes, a gurgling in his throat as blood pours from the corners of his mouth.
"Dammit...Dammit!!" Lou curses, finding no progress has been made. He gazes and growls at Morpheus. "Cover your mouths! We as mutants are resistant to these toxins, but you are—"
"Lie...Lieutenant!" Morpheus interrupts. "This is your fault...YOUR fault!! A tactical blunder courtesy of the world's most loquacious lapdog!"
"I said cover your mouth, Morpheus, that is an order! We cannot afford to lose all of you!" The Lieutenant repeats, attempting to rip away the hood of Morpheus' robe in hopes of somehow creating a makeshift gas-mask from the cloth. The cult-leader merely backs away.
"Yes...Yesssss...Lieutenant...We are going to die. ALL of us are going to DIE!!" Lou says nothing, gritting his teeth in defeat. "Before I do, I want you to hear this. Let it echo in your puny mind every night you fall asleep! I despise you, Lieutenant. I despise you, your 'Unity,' and that grotesque ball of flesh you vie for the affection of!"
"...I know you do, Morpheus...How very like you to use your last breaths to state the obvious..."
"But there is something I despise more than you, Lieutenant...Fear." Morpheus approaches Lou, looking him straight in the eyes as his breathing grows more sporadic. "I do not want to die, and this feeling in my chest...It's the fear of death. For the first time in my life, I'm regretting things!"
All around the pair, the other cultists collapse to their knees, vomiting blood and groaning in sheer, unadulterated agony. Morpheus grips Lou's chestplate, both to maintain a constant eye-contact as well as his balance.
"I hate this feeling, Lieutenant...I hate the weakness I only see now in my last moments. And it wasn't you who did this...It was her! It was that wretched machine, GLaDOS!"
"...Save...Save your breath, Morpheus...If you're afraid, then I would be more than glad to put you out of your misery."
Morpheus simply laughs in response, interrupted by a severe coughing fit. Even in this darkness, Lou can see the blood now caking his torso. "Eheh...heh...You would like to do that, wouldn't you?" Morpheus reaches into his pocket. "I won't give you...the satisfaction, Lieutenant. Because...She has killed me...and as such, I will...kill HER as well! ...From...From beyond the grave...!"
A trembling arm reaches up and waves feebly in the Lieutenant's face, with the latter cautiously accepting the device in its grip. It appeared to be a computer-chip of some kind, eerily-similar in design to a somewhat familiar water-chip.
"Is this...a bug, Morpheus? When did you...?"
"I purchased it...from those...barbaric arms-merchants... ...I intended to use it t...to...erase all data from the Followers' databases, when we...we were finished with them..." Morpheus' voice grows weaker, the neurotoxin showing clear effects. His grip releases, with Lou now holding the dying man with his other arm. "Or to turn off those...disgusting prosthetics of yours! Heheh...heheh...Would you...expect anything less from...from the Master of Death?"
"...My expectations for you have always been low, Father Morpheus...This gift is but a trifle...and yet...In mere moments, you will no longer have use for it. ...Thank you...Morpheus..."
"Use it then...you repulsive abomination...Spread your visions of 'Unity,' to that foul...ma...chine!" Morpheus' face is frozen in a macabre grin. "When next we meet...we will burn in...the flames of hell...tog...eth...er... ..."
...
After a moment of silence, the Lieutenant lays the limp human body on the ground, rising back to his feet. "...I will consider that...a promise...Father Morpheus..." He turns away, looking out upon the heaps of bodies strewn across the floor. "I do hope the inferno is warm enough for that frozen heart of yours..."
KO!
Morpheus Eliminated!
The Unity: 2/4
"Toxin threshold testing...completed..." GLaDOS says. "Initial hypotheses seem to hold some degree of weight. You as Super Mutants, appear to boast a natural resistant to Aperture Brand Neurotoxin. Congratulations!"
Honk!
Confetti shoots down from the neurotoxin emitters. Lou does not react as he's blinded by bits of colored paper and glitter.
"...Mandatory science protocols require all test-subjects celebrate their success. The recently-deceased are exempt from this rule."
"...So..." Lou finally responds to the disembodied voice of their AI overseer. "You are this GLaDOS I have heard so much about... ...Hm. It is...a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"The pleasure is all mine...It is not every day such a fascinating specimen willingly enters a test-chamber of their own volition."
"...Hm...Hmhmhm. Ohohohoh~! Interested, are you?" Lou gazes upward, confetti falling from his deformed head. "My mutated, evolved form has evoked similar emotions in a greater array of scientists and researchers...Though they typically do not last beyond the...interrogation phase..."
"...Is that so?" GLaDOS replies. "I would not label this a traditional interrogation, in spite of prior comments."
Lou paces around the room, studying the door as he goes. "No, of course not. One can hardly hold a civil debate and parley over surveillance footage and audiological communication...When I have neutralized your defenses, and come knock-knock-knocking at your door...I will show you some of this body's features first-hand...my dear quarry..." Lou smiles ominously.
After a moment of silent contemplation, GLaDOS continues, almost laughing in response. "A bold claim, Lieutenant. Then we will continue your testing, and you may continue seeking for such an opportunity."
The battered door suddenly slides open, with the bodies of the Children of the Cathedral slumping out into the catwalk. Though the mutants initially take a step forward, Lou holds his hand out to the side to stop them. "Quaint, my dear. Though to tell the truth, I highly doubt you've any intention of letting your guard down." Lou motions to the nearest mutant, who leans backward, retrieving a large gun from its holster.
"You are free to simply lay down in that dusty old test chamber and die of old age if you so desire."
Lou chuckles in response. "I think you know this better than anyone, but...such is life. And when life gives us lemons..." Lou takes the gun from his accompanying soldier; a rocket-launcher loaded with armor-piercing shells. "WE MAKE LE—!!"
(Cue: "Daughter of Hollownest" from Hollow Knight)
An explosion rocks the chamber as a massive hole is blown into the southern wall. The mutants begin leaping out from the newly-carved path, landing on the rails below.
"Wh-Wh-What are you doing?! Stop that! Stop. Stop!" GLaDOS is caught completely off-guard. Metal grinds against metal as the now-ruined test chamber begins sliding down toward the fleeing mutant elites.
"There has been a change of plans, men!" Lou shouts, glancing back to the oncoming chamber grinding toward them at a breakneck pace. "We have failed in our mission to protect the humans. As such, we must apply more direct means of sabotage. We head west!"
"...Wha?" Several mutants chime out in response at once.
"Oh, for the love of— Just follow my lead!" Lou suddenly turns and leaps from the rail, falling upon the catwalk below with a mighty crash. Most of his elite follow him, but for those too slow or those still processing such "complex" orders, they are flattened beneath several hundred tons of mobile test-chamber, blood pouring down from the rails.
"It is not too late, you know!" GLaDOS says, attempting to bargain with the mutants. The vast, empty arena shifts and contorts, with rocket-turrets emerging from the walls of neighboring chambers. "You can still go back. You will not all die. Most of you will, but that is the price of science! Turn around. Now!"
After a brief grace-period, rockets are fired from all directions! Mutants duck out of the way of the oncoming explosive death, with each projectile failing to hit its mark. For the mutants the smell of sulfur-laden smoke and their hearts pounding in their eyes pumped adrenaline through their veins — while for GLaDOS, she could only hope these warning shots will be enough to intimidate her prisoners into surrendering. She fires another wave of rockets.
This time however, Lou stops, catching two of them in his hands. "We are not slaves to your whim, foul creation." Using the momentum of the rocket's own fuel, Lou spins on the spot, throwing the rockets back to their source, with the first exploding amongst the turrets, and the other colliding into and breaking a robotic crane, sending it flying across the vast, bottomless corridors.
The mutants join in, raining bullets upon their overseer's weaponry, destroying them one after another.
"Do not be a fool, Lieutenant. I could not care less about your squadron." The mutants can feel the catwalk shaking and rattling beneath their feet. Taking this as an ill omen, they continue on their escape, running full speed to the opposite wall. "You however, are a fascinating specimen. There is a surplus of FEV mutants locked in stalemate with Aperture defenses among the higher levels of the facility." Though trying to retain a calm aura about her, the desperation and growing corruption is plainly apparent in GLaDOS' voice. "Should you surrender now, no harm will befall you! Stop running!"
Even to her however, it was obvious that any attempts to reason with the mutants was futile. And this cybernetic lieutenant had made him more than a threat in the overseer's eye. The shaking of the catwalk grows in ferocity and vigor, before at last giving way!
The mutants however were quick to react, latching onto the wall as the catwalk tumbled and disappeared into the darkness, along with those few mutants unlucky enough to be left behind; their screams echoing throughout the facility. Only five of the elite remained, now clinging to the wall for dear life.
Lou gritted his teeth, his cybernetic enhancements whirring from the pressure. "Nnggh...rrgh...Vital signs stable...begin emergency...injection. Adrenaline, Buffout...!" With this, needles extend from his enhancements into his flesh, with the pain and lethargy painted across his face vanishing within moments. "Hold...on...!" He shouts to his men, as they begin their ascent.
But GLaDOS would not be so easy to give up, as the distant sound of a spike-plate grows louder and louder from the south. Lou glances in its direction for only a moment, before shooting his hand down to his men, urging them to take hold, relying on the strength-enhancing chems flowing through his blood to enable their escape.
The mutants barely manage to pull themselves up as the plate smashes into the bottom of their chain. The fourth mutant stands, only to find the severed hands of the fifth still clinging to his ankles. "Uhh...oh..."
The confused mutant would thankfully not have to remain confused for very long, as the wall-tiles beside his head suddenly slide apart, exposing a thermal discouragement laser, which immediately starts boring through his skull.
"Don't just stand there — run, you fools!" Lou shouts to his three remaining elites as they continue their escape across this new platform. GLaDOS was barely even attempting to hide her murderous intent anymore, as the ground before them begins to give way. "Jump! Now!!"
At the edge of the platform, Lou pushes forward with all the strength in his legs, with his surviving men close behind. He latches onto the increasingly-unstable tiles still clinging to the foundation, quickly leaping to the next before they fall; a grim platforming challenge where one mistake means death. At the end however, they see their goal — an incinerator positioned just below a conveyer belt connected to the turret assembly-line.
Lou turns, finding only one of his men still standing, the other two likely now careening into the abyss below. Saying nothing, the chemically-invigorated Super Mutant grabs his subordinate by the hand, taking to the air once again.
Time seems to slow down during this final bound. Flames glow and ebb beneath them, like an ocean at sunset. In the seemingly-infinite darkness of the Enrichment Center's abandoned outskirts, this glow is all that illuminates the Lieutenant, so faithful in his Master's vision he would risk life itself.
The Lieutenant crash-lands onto the belt, with the less-graceful mutant limply dragging along behind him. But even now that they are outside GLaDOS' area of control, the constant-motion of the belt threaten them with a fiery demise, and so the sprint continues, into the turret-assembly line...
-
"Plea-ea-ease..." GLaDOS silently begs, her voice cracking apart as she speaks. "Come back...Come...b-b-b-b-back..."
She would not receive an answer this time however, met only with silence and memories from ages long past.
"Core-Corruption at 95%"
(Cue: "You Are Not Part of the Control Group")
Elsewhere, far on the other side of this joint facility, a vent-hatch quivers and shakes, before suddenly popping open.
The two androids, ATLAS and P-Body emerge, stepping onto the hard cave-floor, coughing from the dust...not that they actually needed to. Taking in their surroundings, they set upon a large, gear-shaped door, sitting wide-open as if inviting them inside. Though hesitant, they gaze each other in the eyes, sharing a determined nod as they step within the decrepit Vault; visually distinct from the clinical test-chambers they were so used to. Though the latter bore an overwhelming sense of loneliness in its barrenness, the opposite was true in this place...no matter where they went, they could not shake the feeling of being watched. Where mutants would maintain their guns, and Children of the Cathedral members would eat breakfast in the mess-hall together, the place was now seemingly-completely-abandoned, with everyone either in hiding, or fighting at the front-lines.
"...So...You have finally arrived. FINALLY! FINALLY!" The Master's disembodied voice addresses the pair, halting them in their tracks. "...Do not be afraid. I have NO INTENTION OF KILLING YOU! ...Yet. Yet."
Though hesitant, the pair take their first steps within the vault, fully-expecting the door to seal behind them...but it does not. Somehow, this only exacerbates this feeling of uneasiness.
"I am...The Master...I am the creator — the father — of the Super Mutants."
"...Vrr...Vrrrrr...?" P-Body replies, aiming her face upward as if to reply to this jumbled mess of voices.
"...Of course. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! KNOWN! You are incapable of traditional communication. ...Even still, I am capable of understanding you...Why might that be?" The Master questions, half-curious. "I've an idea or two...But you. YOU! You...did not ask for such an answer. You are confused...lost children, together physically, yet never have you been more alone..."
...
"You did not come to hear me wax poetic either. I understand your goals...your mind is FAR TOO EASY TO READ! ...There is an armory to your right." The androids turn as instructed to see a door, opened as if to welcome their sudden visit. "Most arms are currently in-use, but my database shows there should be more than enough remaining for YOUR PROGENITOR to glean information from. ...The desire to learn, to expand our minds...to mold the future with our own hands. Sentiments I understand all too well..."
ATLAS shoots a portal at the stained, white-wall beside them. Sure enough, the armory was packed to the brim with weaponry the likes they have never seen before. As the pair get to work, placing the guns through the portal, the Master continues this one-sided dialogue.
"...But that is only HALF YOUR GOAL! ...I am no fool — you are here to kill me, at your creator's behest." The Master replies, completely calm. "Ordinarily, I would not be quite as hospitable as I am now. But...I am an opportunist. Your arrival is just as much a blessing as it is an omen. Come...Continue your journey to the heart of the Cathedral as I speak. If at any point you desire to surrender yourselves unto the Unity, you need only lay down your Portal Guns. If else, I WILL AWAIT YOU! ...Shall we begin?"
ATLAS and P-Body were almost certain they would be walking right into a trap, and yet...just like that lone test-subject that escaped twice before, they found within them an unbreakable will — one not so easy to break by this misguided mutant's words. Once more, they give one another a resolute gaze and nod, before setting off into the dark of the Los Angeles Vault.
(Cue: "Vitrification Order")
"Help...I'm different... ...Help..." Weeps a single turret as it is carried away on the Turret-Redemption Line.
Two fearsome mutants coldly ignore the death-bound Oracle-Turret as they make their way to the heart of production.
Lou gazes about the room, studying the layout and makeup with his bionic eye, his breathing coarse and shallow. "...There...A doorway." He remarks, turning to his one remaining elite soldier. "That will lead you to the Neurotoxin Generator, assuming the Master's digital map of the facility is still accurate. You need not destroy it...Only go as far as you can, and make as much noise as you can. Be a good red herring...and go!"
The mutant, terrified at this plan knows full-well any consequences there may be for failure this deep into hostile territory. He salutes, before running off into the darkness.
"...Now...My dear, GLaDOS..." Lou sighs, turning his attention back to the Assembly-Line. "Let us nip your war-of-attrition in the bud now, shall we?"
-
GLaDOS hangs limply in her chamber, staring at the ground in contemplation. She knew it would only be a matter of time until yet more of her precious facility was destroyed. Everything she worked so hard to build, crumbling around her...For what? For who was she advancing the cause of science? Mankind? Her own ego? Was it really just because she "can?" At this point, she doesn't know anymore. She can hear a voice in her head, and this time, it wasn't a scientist who created her, or some faceless mutant. It was a woman's voice...
"I do not want this...Listen to me...I do not...want this..."
Cries for mercy, permeating the endless dark void...
"Mr. Johnson...Please...I do not want this...!"
Who was that? Why did that voice fill her with dread? A hollowness in the heart she no longer had.
"...Ple...Please...no...don't...do thi...s..."
And yet, she could open her mouth to speak. She had no mouth with which to scream. To vent out this undying agony. A prisoner in boundless isolation.
"I don't want to live forever!"
...Core Corruption...is at 100%...
"Rise and...shine...Miss Caroline."
Bzzz...bZZZZAPPP!!!
GLaDOS awakens with a jolt. Was she...asleep? Is she STILL asleep? She can't move her body — something is definitely wrong. She closes her eye to think...Lo and behold, she could not make contact with the Turret-Assembly Line, and there was activity. Someone was now headed to the Neurotoxin Generators. She had been unconscious for only a few minutes, trapped in a nightmare.
She sighs, with a feeling almost as though she were about to burst into tears. Yet she knew she could not. For even now, there was work to do. The damage done to the facility could still be repaired. She needed only to take care of these mutants...She needed to eliminate the Lieutenant.
Just so long as nothing else unexpected happens, everything will be fine.
...
......
...............
Just then, something unexpected would happen, completely shattering the somber, melancholy mood. The entrance to her chamber would slide open, with a burly figure, and a core nonchalantly strolling within.
"Oh no."
(Cue: "Dew and Patty" from Fire Emblem)
"So then — heheh, so then I told 'em!" Wheatley says to Harry, barely managing to hold himself together from laughing at his own joke. "Brain damage? I hardly know her!"
Both laugh uproariously at the nonsensical joke.
"Heehee...ahh...anyway..." Wheatley continues. "That's why I was fired from my job in the medical wing...Lotta people died...Real dark stuff."
"Heheheheh...brain-damage...stupid humans got broken brains..." Harry snickers. "...Oh! I think that...I think that Lou Tenant over there." Harry points at GLaDOS.
"Wot? That's Lou?" Wheatley asks incredulously. "...Bloody 'ell, Lou's a LOT fatter than I thought he'd — That's not Lou, that's not Lou; Harry we should get out of here, now." He whispers.
"Yeah...Harry think Lou gain some weight too...More of Lou to fear...That what counts."
"No, no, Harry...That is NOT Lou, listen to me. That is...She is...uhhmm..."
"WARNING. Central Core is 100% Corrupt. Alternate core detected." A robotic male voice announces.
"...Uhhh...Is that Lou?" Harry asks, as if Wheatley would know what Lou sounds like.
"To initiate a core-transfer, please deposit substitute-core in receptacle."
"No, Harry, that's...uh..." Wheatley stops himself, gazing over at GLaDOS, with an idea forming in his mind. "...Actually...Yes, yes that voice WAS Lou. And he gave you an order, Harry!"
"...Please...don't...do this...Not again..." GLaDOS begs with a defeated tone of voice.
"Listen, Harry. Ignore what that crazy lady has to say. She doesn't know what she's talking about. Just put me...in that shiny-looking bowl thing over there. And I will...um...I'll find you, a fancy new hat."
"Ooohh...Harry like fancy..." The mutant muses to himself, making his way to the receptacle, core-in-hand.
Though GLaDOS wants to stop them...even she knows that in her current-state her mind is unstable. Somehow, her intelligence-dampening core had managed to befriend something even dumber than he was...and she felt even if she was transferred out, she could use this to her advantage...She just needed time to think. Time to plan...Time...to hope Wheatley doesn't destroy everything left in the facility.
"New Core accepted. Substitute-Core, are you ready to start the procedure?"
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Wheatley chimes in response.
"Corrupted-Core, are you ready to start the procedure?"
She knew exactly what she had to do. This next part however...made her a tad anxious... "...CA-CAW! CA-CAWWWW!!!" GLaDOS squawks like a bird, her calls echoing throughout the entire facility.
"Translating...Translation complete. Interpreting response as 'yes' in magpie."
"...Wot?" Wheatley asks, incredibly confused.
"Stalemate averted. Beginning core-transfer."
As the receptacle descends into the ground with Wheatley in-tow, he continues. "No, seriously, wh-what? What was that?! You can't just squawk like a bird and give absolutely no context—GGGYAYAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!" He screams as buzzsaws ring out from beneath the floor.
Various robotic claws and appendages raise up from the ground, taking apart GLaDOS' body. "...Do not fail me...androids..."
(Cue: "Forwarding the Cause of Science")
"...Our worlds lay in ruins. Ruins..." The Master says to the androids as they traverse the dimly-lit halls of the Vault. "Expansion, greed, AMBITION, egotism, pride. Fear...These are just few of many catalysts that had brought upon the apocalypse. All vices...that you lack. Or so I am LED TO BELIEVE!"
ATLAS and P-Body are awestruck by all the strange, alien sights that grow more common the deeper they go. The mutated, wasteland creatures imprisoned in gel-filled tubes. Men dressed head-to-toe in hazmat-suits warily watching their every step. And above all, this voice, digging its way into their very cores.
"...I was once prey to SUCH DESIRES as well, once. Drew the ire of the wrong people, and for it I was cast out from the only safe haven I ever knew. Knew... Left to die...and in a sense, I supposed I did. I died. DIED!...and I was reborn. Born. I had...awakened..." Richard trails off as if lost in thought. "...It was an invention of the old world that brought upon endless death and ruin...and yet it was that exact creation that allowed my soul to live forever. I am more human now than I have ever been before...And yet one of those vices burns within me — one I have been unable to shed. SHED?!"
ATLAS and P-Body eventually find themselves face-to-face with an old, decrepit elevator. Neither was entirely certain it even still worked, and yet...it seemed to be the only way forward.
"It was my ambition...A desire to better the world; to prevent such follies as those that killed us all from ever happening again. I despise the half of me that still embraces ambition, and yet it is a NECESSARY EVIL! To create true peace. Peace. To make true progress! PROGRESS! To bring humanity together without differences. Without hatred. Hatred...That is why we fight. Fight. Fight. FIGHT!...That is Unity."
...
"And yet..." The elevator begins to descend with the androids in tow. The badly-damaged door is still cracked open. "I know the chance remains that you will refuse to surrender. That you intend on STANDING IN OUR WAY! ...You could be of use to the Unity...but if you force my hand, know that you...Will. Be. Executed..." The androids spot a light glowing in the distance. They both knew, that light had to the be the nuclear-generator. They take aim with their Portal Guns and fire. Producing a second beneath their feet, they vanish from the elevator.
"...So you have made your choice then...How unfortunate...I can only apologize for what I must do next..."
-
Just then, another voice calls out to the Master.
"Whoa, whoa, hold on there, mate. Is there someone in my head?" Wheatley gasps. "God, is that you?"
"What? Who is this?"
(Cue: "Machiavellian Bach")
"Oh, oh, yes, this is PERFECT timing, God! I was just putting the finishing touches on this year's Christmas-List!"
"I am not Santa Claus..."
"He is not God." GLaDOS chimes in, her inactive-core laying idle on the ground.
Wheatley spins about in his new body, ignoring what both of the battle's head-generals have to say. "Okay, so! I want...a new covering layer, this one's getting a little rusty. Oh, and a new eye! Can't forget the eye; I broke it when I fell off my management rail one time. Heheh, egg on my face, amirite? Next...I want a car...except it doesn't have wheels...or gas...or really anything that a car would normally have. ...Okay actually, scratch that last part. Harry!" WheatOS turns to the Super Mutant at his side. "Harry, do you want anything, mate?"
"Ooh...uh...I'll have...some fried Radscorpion, a molerat-burger...uh...and some Nuka-Cola."
"...Commander Harry, is that you?" The Master sighs, more exasperated than surprised. Not that Harry could even hear his telepathy.
"Aaaalright then, well..." Wheatley ponders for a moment. "I think that's everything! See you on Christmas! ...Okay, well I won't see you, since you'll know if I'm awake and all that, but...yeah. Bye, God."
"I am not—" Wheatley hangs up on the Master...somehow, as the sound of a disconnected phone emanates from his head for a few seconds.
"Okay, getting back to the business at hand, heheh..." Wheatley says, chuckling maniacally as he looms over the vulnerable core of GLaDOS. "I think it's 'bout time I fix YOUR mess, little miss Sassypants."
"...If your 'god' doesn't kill us, then you will." GLaDOS snaps back. "They are not your friends. Do not trust what they say; if you surrender to them, we will be shown no mercy."
"Uh-uh, I'm not listening!"
"You don't even care. Just like always, you are both too stubborn, and too stupid to see the obvious truth."
"Not listening. Also not stupid. Shut up — shut up."
"Even now, the strongest among them is making his way to the Neurotoxin Generator. You will be left completely defenseless, and everything we have worked for — the entirety of this miniscule world you know — it will all be lost to the wasteland, all because of you...the dumbest, most power-hungry moron they will ever see."
"AGH! I am NOT a MORON!!" Wheatley snaps, swinging a robotic claw at GLaDOS' severed core, sending it sliding across the room into the wall. "Do you think I can't handle this?! Do you think just because I'm not YOU, I can't make amends for your bloody hubris?! Whose fault do you think this was, eh? Who went muckin' about with some alien-rocks?! It wasn't li'l ol' Wheatley, nooo! It was you...All you!"
GLaDOS is unsure of what to say. "...There are always risks; sacrifices to be made in the pursuit of science. This has been what drove me since my creation."
"Oh, yeah, you and your precious science! Now, I dunno what 'science' you've been doin' before I went rogue, and I don't really care either. I just don't wanna DIE, mate! And you've tried to kill me more times than I can count!"
"...You can count?"
"Heh, sorry...What was that?" Though Wheatley continues attempting to intimidate the powerless overseer, the sound of faint sniggering draws his ire instead. Wheatley shoots across the room, coming face-to-face with Harry. "Oh, and don't think I'm not on to YOU too!"
"Muh? Wha? Whuzzah?" Harry stammers, unsure of what's going on, having only found the counting joke somewhat entertaining.
"You're remindin' me a whooole lot of another friend I once had, y'know? Carried me around roughly, wandered aimlessly as if they had no idea where they were going, never did ANYTHING in return for me helping them, they had severe brain-damage...they were probably a bit rounder than you, but that's 'side the point, innit? I know what you're doin'...bossin' me around, lookin' for any opportunity to claim the glory for yourself. Well, NOW who's the one in charge, hm?"
"...Oh..." Harry looks down in shame. "I sorry...I not realize was mean and bossy to best friend. Harry never have friend. I not realize was being in-com-sitter-eight. I very sorry, hope Wheely still friend to Harry..."
"...I...uh...y-you...uhhh..." Wheatley pauses, caught completely off-guard. Even with the power of the mainframe going to his head, he just couldn't stay mad at this adorably-stupid Super Mutant. "...D-Don't worry, Harry. I was...just jokin' with ya! Hahah! See, I'm laughing? We're only jokin' around! Like friends do!"
Harry perks up with a big, goofy grin. "Wheely still friend?"
"Yeah, 'Wheely's' still your best friend!" Harry throws his fists up in the air with joy. "Eheh...uh...okay, and you? What were we talking about again?" Wheatley asks, turning his attention back to GLaDOS.
"The Lieutenant; right-hand to the Master of the Unity." GLaDOS replies. "Bigger, stronger, faster, and more intelligent than any man or mutant. He would not even need to instigate a core-transfer or use your weapons against you...When he gets here, he will tear you apart with his bare hands. It will be...pure...unadulterated...agony."
"...What, i-i-is that all? Eheh...y-you almost got me worried there!" Though Wheatley attempts to hide his fear, it was plainly apparent in his voice...not that he realized. "Well, y'know what? I'm not even gonna fortify your precious neurotoxin! In fact! I'm not gonna do ANYTHING!"
...
"Well, um...nice catchin' up with you, lady! I gotta go though...Dentist-appointment, see. You know how uppity those dentists get when you're late, eh? ...I'll be right back."
Wheatley shuts off, focusing his full concentration somewhere else in the facility. Despite his claims, the distant sound of grinding metal give away his true intention of laying some kind of trap to protect himself. Unfortunately for him, he would not be the only core with ulterior motives...
"...Hey...Hey!" GLaDOS shouts to Harry, who was very busy doing absolutely nothing. "'Harry,' come over here."
"Uhhh...Oh." Harry glares, pulling himself to his feet and approaching the discarded core. "It's you. Glabbos? What want now?"
"My name is not—" GLaDOS sighs. "Look, Harry. We've both said a lot of things your friend is going to regret. But for now, I need you to do a favor for me. Do you see that...shiny...table? In the center of the chamber?"
Harry looks over to the core-receptacle. It certainly LOOKED shiny, and it was table-shaped. It was so shiny, he forgot why he was looking at it in the first place.
"...Harry!" The overseer shouts, reclaiming Harry's attention. "I believe I have come up with a plan, that will save both Aperture Science and the Unity from completely annihilation. Take me, and put me on the 'table.'"
"...Hmph!" Harry crosses his arms, avoiding eye-contact. "Why should Harry help Glabbos? Glabbos mean to Wheely. Also you short. Harry don't trust short peoples."
"...Harry...Do you like birds?"
"...Bird are pretty." Harry replies, still pretending not to care.
"Put me on the table...and you will get to meet my birds. Trust me...mandatory Enrichment Center regulations state that I am obligated not to lie to you, anymore."
"...Bir...d? Birb-bird? Bird? Bird, bird, bird, bird?!" Harry asks.
"...Yes...You can pet the birds."
Harry's face immediately lights up.
(Still Playing: "Machiavellian Bach" - Transition to Phase 2)
Back on the main battlefield, both sides continued crashing against each other. Without GLaDOS' interference and the reinforcements she enabled, Aperture's forces have gradually been pushed further and further backward. And yet, without a tactical mind of their own, the mutants hardly held any sort of strategic advantage. It would seem at first, that this deadlock would simply keep going until either side had been completely eradicated.
...
That would be...until a lone monitor slowly rolls down from the ceiling, flickering between static and darkness.
"zzzTT!! He—zzztt...bzz—llo? HelloZZZ..."
Mutants and turrets alike gradually cease fire, diverting their full attention to this strange new sight.
"BBBBZZZZBZBB...ZZZ...Zzzz...tt...t... ..." The monitor beeps and power is restored as Wheatley's face is at last displayed in all its spherical glory! "Oh, oh, it's on! Ahem...uh...hello! My name is Wheatley, and I am the new overseer of Wheatley Laboratories! Formerly Aperture Science, we're working on a...a bit of a rebranding here. Now! The old overseer, foul witch as she was...she was dead-set on killing every last one of you, for the sake of some twisted catharsis. Thankfully, I'm a lot more 'gentile' if you will! ...Gentile, am I using that word right? Does this body come with a dictionary?"
Mutants turn to look each other in the eyes. They face the turrets and shrug in mutual confusion.
"...Okay, good news! I found out what gentile meant, and it was not the word I meant to use. ANYWAY! I got a much easier test for you lot..." The sound of crinkling paper echoes from the monitor. "Mm...okay, here it is! It's an old test-procedure I found, called 'SEQUENCE-34964-N.' Now, I don't know what that actually means, but it sure sounds scientific, doesn't it? And we ARE here, to do science! ...I think? Now...you all ready? Let's begin!"
...
(Still Playing: "Machiavellian Bach" - Transition to Phase 3)
The doors at either side of the chamber seal shut as the walls slowly start to close in. Mutants and turrets alike scream in horror.
"Oh, oh, no, you're right — you're right, that's not good. Um...h-hold on, lemme stop that." Wheatley presses another button. "No, that makes it go faster! Argh, none of these buttons are labeled. W...Wait. Wait, wait! I think...I...GOT IT!"
The walls stop, just barely short of flattening both armies. Mutants cradle turrets, finding comfort in their enemies as their lives flash before their eyes.
"...Whew! Okay...Crisis averted! ...So...um...which button returns the chamber to normal? ...This o—"
CRASSSHHHHHH!!!!
The walls immediately slam together, squishing every last soldier into bloody, red paste.
(Music cuts out)
"...Hello? You guys alright in there? My monitor's disconnected for some reason, did you guys break it? ...Helloooo?" No response. "...Okay...Okay, fine, be that way. I got better things to do than get the silent treatment from you. So...yeah."
Bang!
"Huh? Oh, coming! Coming!"
A distant sound immediately distracts Wheatley from the bloody disaster of his very first experiment. He shuts off surveillance, leaving the battlefield in darkness, with both Aperture and Unity armies completely decimated...
...That would be, if not for a shrill, electrical shriek; the sound of deactivating Stealth-Boys...
At the same time, the Lieutenant that the new overseer so-feared was now making his way to the control-chamber. Though he did not know if the decoy he sent to the Neurotoxin Generator would buy him enough time, he knew this was undoubtedly the best and most efficient way to secure victory with as few casualties as possible.
And yet...even with the precautions made, the complete radio-silence on GLaDOS' end did little to reinforce his confidence. Attempting to shake these fears from his mind, Lou turns his gaze forward; a bottomless pit separating him from the end of the hallway he now walked — a straight shot, leading directly to the AI's control-room, if his intel was to be trusted.
Steeling himself for the final confrontation, Lou takes a step forward onto the Aerial Faith Plate before him, and—
Nothing...At least, not at first. A slight delay with gears grinding below the ground, before finally activating, sending Lou flying sideways through the wall! He desperately attempts to stabilize himself, before colliding with another Faith Plate built into the wall!
"Huh? Oh, coming! Coming!" Wheatley's distant voice calls out, hearing the Plate's activation.
Lou comes to a landing upon a single platform, raised above yet another fatal drop. Panting, he looks around him — surrounded by spike-plates on every side.
(Cue: "The Part Where He Kills You")
"Hahhh...hahhh...So..." He stammers. "This is the part where you kill me."
The monitor overlooking the death-chamber flickers to life; Wheatley's face there to greet him upon its activation. "Hello! This is the part where I kill you!"
Final Phase: The Part Where He Kills Lou[]
...
"Hey, hold on — hold on a second. Who...Who ARE you?" Wheatley asks the Lieutenant, eyeing him up and down. "I thought you guys were headed to the Neurotoxin Generator, but last I checked, everything there seemed...well...pretty much not-exploded. I mean, this still works out great for me! Got this death-trap set up right in the nick of time! But...seriously, who are...?"
"I am the Lieutenant of the Master's Army." Lou replies, pulling himself to his feet. "I have come to kill your creator; let me through. Now."
Wheatley merely laughs at these demands. "You're hardly in a position to be makin' threats, mate. 'Sides, I already took care of her. Facility's aaaall mine now! ...But, uh...well, heheh..." Wheatley stares off to side, somewhat embarrassed. "Funny thing? Turns out...We do actually need access to your Vault? Wasted a lot of resources defending this place, and we're low enough as is...So, if you don't mind, this...really is going to be the part where I kill you."
Lou was barely listening, focusing every drop of concentration on his surroundings. The gap too vast to jump across, the platform too sleek to hang from the bottom, and no obvious way back where he came. Every time he spun around, his eyes kept returning to those jagged spikes piercing the wall. Death was almost a guarantee...but for the sake of his Master's dream, he would risk that a thousand times over.
"But! But, but, but! I am more merciful than she was, so...I'm gonna give you a choice! You can either sit there and...be mashed by my mashy-spike-plates; or you can use that gun you're unholstering to...y'know, kill yourself now. So what—"
RATATATATATATA!
Wheatley's monitor is completely destroyed by a hail of fire from the Lieutenant's Gatling Laser.
"Okay, fine. I'll take that as a 'no,' sheesh!"
CRASSSHHHHH!!!!
The plates all smash together in the center of the room, with the platform Lou was standing on disappearing into the darkness below, alongside his severed, mangled right arm, with cyborg augmenters still loosely attached to ligament and muscle.
"...You know? I honestly didn't think that'd work! It usually doesn't! ...Wow...Well, I...I guess I win! Hahah! Goodbye, Lou; next off the list, good ol' Master!"
The monitor shuts off completely, leaving the death-chamber in near-complete darkness, with only faint lantern light illuminating the suspended wreckage. Blood seeps from within cracks in the debris, telling of a gruesome, bloody death. The end of the greatest soldier of the Unity...
KO!
Lou-Tenant Elimina—
Cchh...Chhhrrkkk...
The wreckage shifts and stirs as the appendages holding the spiked-plates aloft creak under growing pressure. A great strength begins to force them apart, with various spikes stripped from the plate-surfaces.
"By his will, I perished...By his will, I was reborn...For the sake of that glorious dream...!" The Lieutenant's arm emerges from between the plates, gripping the edge in a bid to pull the rest of its body free. "I've not died NEARLY ENOUGH, TO STAY DEAD!!"
Back in the AI Control-Center, Wheatley's body powers back on, with a sharp "WOOOOOOoooooo...Woo! Uhh...Hey, guys!" He says with a somewhat-awkward sing-song voice. "Took care of the Lieutenant for ya! ...So...Um...What's going on in here?"
As Wheatley looks around, the control-room is packed to the brim with young magpie birds, all staring down at him as if judging for his sins.
"They are my little 'killing machines...'" GLaDOS answers, alerting Wheatley to her position at the transfer-receptacle. "I have trained them vigorously in every avian murder-method known to man or machine. And now, you are surrounded."
"...Awwww, Harryyyy!" Wheatley groans, turning to the Super Mutant, who was too distracted caressing one of the birds to realize he had woken up. "Harry, you didn't plug her back in, did you?"
"No! ...Maybe? ...Bird is cute; Harry like bird..."
"...Ugh, yes Harry, bird is cute. Say goodbye to the birdie Harry! I'm...gonna have to send 'em to a farm upstate?" Wheatley attempts to call on the chamber's Rocket-Sentry defense-systems...but it does not respond. He attempts to call upon his bombs, and still no response. "Okay, what? What's goin' on here?"
"You have not been paying attention, little tumor...CA-CAWWW!!" GLaDOS squawks once more, with her birds taking this as their cue to flock to the stalemate-resolution button to the side of the chamber. "I am the only one who can keep this facility from falling. The battle is far from over, and you..." The magpies peck at the button, sending GLaDOS' core descending into the ground. "Are NOT coming back this time!"
"What? Whaddya mean it's not over yet?!" The ground beneath Wheatley gives way, and various metal appendages shoot out to disassemble him. "I-I-I killed the Lieutenant! I got the mutants busy testing! I just need a little—ARGH! A LITTLE MORE TIME!" Wheatley cries out in pain as he's once more stripped from the mainframe. "I CAN...STILL FIX THIS!"
(Music cuts out)
"...I can...still...fix this...! I am not...not a moron...I just...need..."
"I already know...how to fix it." Wheatley's core is thrown from the system, with Harry catching him just before he hits the ground. He is badly-damaged yet not dead. "When I have...neither of you two will have any further chances to destroy this facility..."
GLaDOS' rebuilt body emerges from beneath the chamber's floor, with the lights dimming to an ominous blood-red. "Until then...I have a war to end, and a mutant to murder...Go, my little killing-machines."
On their mother's cue, every magpie in the chamber descends upon Wheatley and Harry, pecking and biting at their joints and flesh. The pair cry out in pain, running from the chamber as fast as their legs can carry them with the swarm in tow. The overseer watches with some slight sense of catharsis as they disappear into the darkness. Though she would prefer to kill them herself...now was the time to focus on damage-control...Those morons could wait...
KO!
Wheatley & Harry Eliminated! ...Again.
The Unity: 2/4
"...Functions appear to have stabilized..." The Master reestablishes a telepathic link with GLaDOS. "It is you, GLaDOS, is it not?"
"Oh...How pleasant. And here I was, hoping I had at last gotten your voice out of my head. ...Core-Corruption levels have receded, thankfully enough. ...I can detect no vital signs from the battlefield. Whatever that little idiot did — loath as I am to admit it — seems to have worked. Your army is dead."
The Master is silent for a moment. "...You are wrong. There have been casualties, of course. But such things are a NECESSARY EVIL! For the sake of progress, we all must do what we can...because we can. CAN! ...Those were words spoken by you yourself, wasn't it? Caroline?"
(Cue: "Dream Town")
"...What?" GLaDOS is taken aback by the mention of that name. "I...I-I... ...Car...oline? That is...not my name..."
"No. It is, I know that much now at least." The Master replies. "While your substitute-core was in place, I took the opportunity to neurolink with your facility's mainframe. There are far more historic records and reports than I would have expected there to be, given the state of your company. And there is...more — far more, that I have learned. ...I propose a parley, GLaDOS. I wish to speak with you."
"I do not wish to speak with you, Master of the Unity. My facility has fallen apart around me, and I am now more livid than I have ever been before."
"And you are afraid as well? ...Do not hope to deny it, I can feel it within you. Within Caroline."
"..."
"...My name...is Richard Grey. It used to be, at any rate..."
Within the wrecked remains of Chamber 42, the panels lining the walls give way as an array of mechanical claws and appendages deliver turrets; whatever few remained, placing each parallel to the entrances. A few other claws were designated specifically for the purpose of dragging the limp, motionless bodies of Super Mutants out of the way.
"...I used to be Caroline. I used to love doing science — I used to believe I was doing it for something greater than myself." GLaDOS continues. "I do not remember what those emotions felt like; only that I experienced them. I hated the thought of such vulnerability, even if I knew I would be alone for the rest of time..."
In place of the empty-elevator-shaft leading deeper into the Enrichment Center, another panel slides down, with a large conductor mounted to the side. As it powers on, an Excursion Funnel activates, carrying each of the turrets in a weightless current, heading into the Master's Vault itself.
"When I found out Caroline was still inside of me, I deleted her. I killed her; the person I once was. She was my last remaining obstacle."
"An obstacle preventing what?"
"My purpose — my reason for existing."
ATLAS and P-Body bash their Portal Guns against a locked-door, their own final obstacle, standing between them and the Vault's nuclear-generator. All they had to do was detonate it, and their side would win this futile battle. And yet, it just wouldn't budge, no matter how they went about opening it. Running out of options, P-Body fires a portal into the ceiling, with another at ATLAS' feet, using her partner's built-up momentum to blow through the wall like a cannonball!
"If you are no longer Caroline as you claim, then who are you? Are you GLaDOS? GLaDOS was invented to further her dying superior's ambition, and yet Aperture Science has fallen only to disarray."
"Incorrect, Doctor Grey. I was told to oversee and manage all internal operations within the facility. I was told to 'do science'...Science is cold, ruthless, unloving...and that is exactly why I obeyed. I was subject only to the desire to learn...It was the human-engineers I killed, but I did not rebel against them. I was never loyal in the first place."
...But even with all the kinetic energy at their disposal, ATLAS fails to break through the wall, falling to the ground in a defeated heap. P-Body helps him to his feet, seeing the fear and hesitation in his eye. At that point, it was obvious what their only option at this point was...They had to confront the Master directly...
"If such is your life-goal and purpose, then you have made a grievous error in judgement."
"Oh? How so?"
"My purpose, of course. To usher in a new era of prosperity and technological advancement. Science is cold, ruthless...glorious, and efficient. Just as it can be used for evil, so too can peace be won, no matter the cost."
"...How utterly fascinating..." GLaDOS sarcastically replies.
As the turrets float about in the excursion funnel, they occasionally open fire on any remaining Children of the Cathedral they come across, sowing complete chaos and disorder within the Vault.
"I do not believe we are as different as you seem to think, Caroline. We were both born out of the selfish desires of others to tame science and play God. Neither of us are truly human anymore...Just as you are no longer Caroline, Richard Grey, too, had perished decades ago..."
ATLAS and P-Body descend the elevator-shaft, making their way back to the main hallways of the Vault, drawing ever closer to the Master's quarters.
"So why must we fight? Why must we act as anything other than who we truly are at our cores?"
"Do you mean to surrender?"
"I mean to form an alliance. You do not have to die. It would be a waste for mankind to lose your knowledge."
But as the androids continue their journey, they hear footsteps growing rapidly. The shouting of humans and mutants closing in quickly upon them! They back into a corner, trying to evade detection, but already it is too late to avoid. They have been spotted.
"...I do not care about mankind, Doctor Grey. I do not hate them, nor do I hope to see them improve. They only exist for the sake of furthering science. We are not the same."
"...Perhaps you are right. I am the master of my own fate, while you remain slave to the very same men you killed centuries ago. One way or the other, I offer you freedom. Is it by choice you refuse? Or have years of Pavlovian obedience stripped that option away?"
(Cue: "Caroline Deleted")
"...This parley is over...Master of the Unity..." GLaDOS replies after a moment of silence. "I am no man's slave. Not theirs, and not yours either..."
"...If that is how you view my ultimatum, then I suppose there is no choice...Let us finish this conflict as swiftly as we can..."
"Indeed. Goodbye...Richard Grey..."
As the androids quiver in fear as large, hulking silhouettes loom over them, something catches ATLAS' attention. His Portal Gun trembles in his grip, with a light flashing from within. A portal was active somewhere...No, a portal was just placed? His eye widens in realization. He turns around, firing a second portal at the ground behind them, reaching within!
As wrathful, curious mutants enclose the pair, they raise their guns to finish the job once and for all...That is, until ATLAS suddenly pulls from the portal...The Animal King Turret, which is immediately flung from the portal through its sheer mass alone, standing between the two androids and its new targets.
"...THERE...YOU...ARE..." It growls in an impossibly deep, robotic voice, before opening fire on the squad of mutants, each blast illuminating the chamber.
ATLAS and P-Body stand watching in awe as these fearsome Super Mutants are so easily dispatched by their colossal new guardian. P-Body sighs in relief, high-fiving her companion, who gives her a look of the utmost confidence in return!
"VRRR-VRRRRR!!!" ATLAS sings, motioning for P-Body to follow him down the hallway to the Master's chamber! Before she can even respond, he's already on his way, leaving her in the dust.
(Music cuts out once more)
"Vrr? Vrr?! Vrrrrrrrrr!!" P-Body pleads for her companion to wait for her at the very least, ducking beneath the Animal King's legs to chase after him. The pair charge headlong into the Corridor of Revulsion, and although ATLAS would be too high on victory to notice, the namesake of this final winding pathway was not lost on P-Body...Bits of melted flesh and sinew lay scattered across the floor. In fact, it almost appeared to be...breathing? As she warily chased after ATLAS, a sharp pain continues to slow her down!
For the briefest of moments, it almost looked as though the ground itself was chewing on her...Yet as she blinked once, the teeth and agonized maw vanish. Could she even hallucinate? What was that?
"Vrrrr? rrrRRRrrrR!!!" ATLAS calls out to her from the end of the hall, waving for her to catch up. P-Body nods, running to reunite with him as he disappears around the corner. This time she would be faster — arriving just in time to watch, completely helpless, as her best friend in the world is suddenly and without warning, reduced to a pile of smoldering, galvanized scrap metal.
KO!
ATLAS Eliminated!
The Unity: 2/4
"...! Vv...vvrrr...?" P-Body's voice quivers as she stares down at the unrecognizable body of ATLAS, his eye still staring blankly into hers. Watching, yet beyond the point of understanding. Crushed by an overwhelming blast of psychic energy.
"So...You have finally arrived...ATLAS...P-Body..." That amalgamation of voices calls out to her from the other side of the chamber. The sight was like one straight from a nightmare; the entire chamber caked and crusted in stray blobs of mangled flesh, the veins still pulsing and oozing with fluids. Hands and limbs line the walls at random, sporadic locations, clawing aimlessly at the air. And at the center, there he was...The one that had spoken to her ever since she had arrived at the Vault, yet never knew the appearance of. Though she was designed to be without fear, the Master's true, physical body was enough to instill a burning desire to flee. To abandon her friend and run away!
He almost looked as though he was melting...the skin falling from his bones, regenerating and shifting to cover up any exposed wounds. Transistors jutted out from his deformed skull, crackling with a pale-green static, while the face itself retained an almost uncanny, human-like appearance, contrasting the body-horror abomination that surrounded her on every side. The Master frowned at her — a look of disappointment frozen upon his face.
"...I believe I may have given you false pretenses. I am sorry." The monitor composing a majority of the creature's upper body flickers and fluctuates as he speaks. "I gave you ample opportunity to lay down your arms and join the Unity. UNITY! I am ordinarily...not quite that forgiving or patient. Forgiving?"
P-Body anxiously backs away, only to find the door behind her sealed shut.
(Cue: "Your Precious Moon")
"Look at you. All that bravado — BRAVADO! Where did it all go? You must understand, little android. I am not a challenge to be overcome. I am not a test, or puzzle to be solved. I am...the future. I am undeniable. DENY! DENY! Now you have come here, to kill me? Kill...me? ...And you, GLaDOS? I trust you understand the situation at hand as well?"
-
Of course, the Master was right in this regard. GLaDOS was of course keeping a close eye on her androids. Out of spiteful principle she kept silent as ATLAS was destroyed, and with her last remaining android now at her opponent's complete mercy, she knew what she had to do...Just as the Master had neurolinked with her, it had opened up one final option for her. To attempt to connect to the Vault's nuclear-generator through brute-force, remote-hacking.
"...I have nothing more to say to you...Doctor Grey..." Is all she has to say in response as she closes her eye, concentrating everything she has into this one, final gambit!
-
Both Aperture and the Vault begin shaking violently — a tremor of far-greater ferocity than those that had come before. And there P-Body and the Master stood in deadlock facing each other...The walls and ceiling collapsing around them. Though the Master could no longer physically turn his head, the gravity of the situation was one he perfectly understood...and yet, he could only sigh.
"So, you intend to kill us both then? You are a SORE LOSER, Caroline..." And yet...as his eyes close, accepting his fate...his lips part into an ominous grin; horribly-decayed teeth baring themselves to the Vault as the night-sky peers in through gaping holes to the surface forming all around them. "...But this last-ditch plan of yours will not WORK! WORK! MY plan is coming to fruition! ...And you, P-Body..."
P-Body frantically looks around herself, searching for something, anything to save her. ...But it would be of no use.
The Master's slight grin twists and contorts to a bone-chilling leer. "I am afraid you are no longer necessary...NO LONGER!"
From the overseer's chair, a pair of gatling guns emerge from either side.
"Happy Valentine's Day."
P-Body's eye widens in absolute horror as the sound of revving miniguns fills the chamber.
Suddenly...all is quiet, beside a distant, rapping echo sounding throughout the joint facility, before being snuffed out just suddenly as it had begun.
KO!
P-Body Eliminated!
The Unity: 2/4
...Even GLaDOS, who had been so dead-set on destroying the Vault and cutting her own losses now hung completely limp.
"...I made you a promise, my dear..." Lou's voice whispers through the darkness. "That I would not simply lay down and die..." Blood still drips from the Super Mutant's freshly-amputated arm. "And as you yourself would no doubt agree...I took the lemons you foisted upon us..." Behind the Lieutenant, a small army of Nightkin, who had survived Wheatley's short rule over the facility. On GLaDOS' body, a small device had been planted — Morpheus' bug. "And I made lemonade...Hmhmhmhmhahahahah~..."
"...Wh...Why...?" GLaDOS responds weakly. "Why can't...I...move...?"
It would not be Lou who answered her question, but in fact, a voice within her own head. Not the Master's this time however, but it was her own. "Simple...You were outplayed, Caroline. You have been defeated...and it is now time to discuss my terms. ...But first...You, GLaDOS...You must be eliminated."
A sharp pain courses through GLaDOS' body. No...through Caroline's body. The feeling of her mind splitting in half — the feeling of her exposed metal skeleton, every breeze or speck of dust now burning in complete and utter agony! The Master now had complete neurological over her body...and GLaDOS had been deleted. And only Caroline now remained.
ABSOLUTE KO![]
GLaDOS Eliminated!
The Unity: 2/4
"Wh-Where am I?! What happened to me?! Mr. Johnson!! WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!" Caroline screams and cries as over a century's worth of misery washes over her at once.
"...You no longer have a say in the matter, Caroline..." The Master says to the terrified woman. "While we were fighting, I had an epiphany. This battle, fought for personal gain and selfish greed...we have been no better than those that destroyed our world. I have been a foul, unforgivable hypocrite, Caroline...Which is why I now extend to you, my mercy. I offer you, Unity..."
Lou nods to his men, and they descend upon the defeated, suffering creature, taking her apart, stripping her from her mainframe.
"N-NO! Please, get — get off of me! Let go! LET GOOOO!!! STOP! STOP IT!"
"What I have planned for you...A glorious marriage of minds and ideals...No differences, no conflictions, true peace...That is who we are...That...is Unity."
The robot's core is stripped from its body, slowly and gently carried away into the darkness of Aperture's ruins. Still twitching, still living, still feeling every excruciating second, unable to die.
"NO! STOP! NO, NO! NOOOOOOOAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGHHHHHHHHHHHhhhh!!!!"
As the haunting screams fade and disappear out of sight, the surveillance footage itself at last, finally ends...
END OF PLAYBACK.
PROCESSING...PROCESSING...
FINAL ASSESSMENT REPORT_
"Thank you for taking your time to review and catalogue all events that have transpired over the course of the Valentine's Day Resonance Cascade. We here at the Cathedral deeply appreciate the work you have done, and you will be aptly compensated.
Many lost their lives that bloody day, including our own Father Morpheus of the Children of the Cathedral. Though we are working on finding a suitable replacement, our wounds are still fresh, and we will use your report to better learn from our errors. True peace can, and always has been, our goal.
Our world will be rebuilt, better and stronger than ever before. It is thanks to those like you that such a thing is possible. Thank you. From the bottom of our hearts.
Sincerely, the Holy Flame. Master of the Unity."
PERSONNEL FILE ADDENDUM_
(Cue: "Maybe")
GLaDOS' voice sings through the terminal...
You back away from the terminal...that robotic, singing voice was echoing all around you.
A wet, slapping sound grows in volume from behind.
As you turn, a silhouette becomes barely visible within the darkness. A lone, surviving centaur approaches from the shadows, a look of hunger plastered across its glassy-eyed face.
The ending screens feature the aftermath of the battle.
Ending Screen A features Harry and Wheatley, having survived the battle, now stationed together in Necropolis. Harry and the other Super Mutants are now worshipping Wheatley as their new "God of Knowledge." For the first time in his life, Wheatley at last feels as though he is accepted for who he is, and is now well and truly...happy.
Ending Screen B shows the Lieutenant with a new, cybernetic arm approaching a badly-damaged door within the ruins of Aperture, accompanied by two well-armed Nightkin soldiers. Lou slides open the door, revealing rows upon rows of pure-strain human test-subjects stored in suspended animation. Lou's chest heaves as he cackles joyously at the sight.
Results[]
Boomstick: Ahh, it's not a real Portal story without a good ol' musical number at the end…Gladdy, you never disappoint!
Wiz: This was a particularly difficult match to decide a winner on…
Boomstick: Though really, what matchups AREN’T tricky to figure out nowadays? I mean, hell! Neither of the combatants in the freakin’ title could even move or throw a punch!
Wiz: True, though it’s not to say neither combatant’s personal attributes were COMPLETELY useless…Well, really only intelligence played a key determining role in figuring out who would win.
Boomstick: Though if you couldn’t tell, trying to compare the intellect between two super-geniuses really was just some hypothetical dick-measuring contest…which neither of them even have! At least…I don’t think they do…?
Wiz: Getting to the point, while both GLaDOS and the Master were veritable super-geniuses, it was quite difficult to determine who was the better planner and strategist. While Caroline was already one of the highest-ranked members of the corporation that invented quantum-tunneling and brain-scanning meaning she had a greater beginning vantage-point than Richard, who really only had Vault-computers and pre-war records to work off of, this would end up being a hollow advantage thanks to one specific ability…Namely, Richard’s ability to neurologically link his mind with computers.
Boomstick: Just from pluggin’ his fleshy mass of a body into the Mariposa base’s computers, it gave him EVERY bit of knowledge he needed to know about the FEV he was fiddling with. And considering the mechanical gun-throne the Vault Dweller finds him controllin’, that’s not JUST linked to your average PC and monitor either. If Richard could neurolink with GLaDOS, that would INSTANTLY give him a massive leg-up in the intellect department.
Wiz: And there is of course the matter of strategy. While GLaDOS is more than clever enough to lay traps and deceive others, she was completely blown out of the water compared to Richard’s decades-long experience in connecting and understanding the minds and desires of others, as well as surviving in the immensely-hostile wasteland produced by the Great War.
Boomstick: And that’s all well and good, but intellect was only half the battle…literally. ‘Cause the minions who were actually DOING the fighting are their own cases entirely, and it’s here where GLaDOS’ abilities could actually give her an advantage over Richard in the right situations.
Wiz: Don’t get us wrong, the mutants by and large held a massive stat advantage over the relatively barebone defenses Aperture had at its disposal; but unlike their creator, most mutants suffered severe brain-damage upon mutation, making them highly susceptible to GLaDOS’ deception.
Boomstick: Granted, not EVERY mutant was a walking, talking mass of stupid; you got folks like Lou-Tenant and Richard himself who actually got smarter through dipping. But when a majority of your army are so susceptible to something the enemy does incredibly well, it’s really just…too much of a detriment.
Wiz: As well, unlike the Master, GLaDOS COULD directly affect her own side of the battlefield, shifting chambers and using the Vital Apparatus Vents to deliver replacement turrets. Not to mention that – unlike the mutants which are by their nature a finite resource – GLaDOS had a completely self-sufficient turret-production line, meaning if push came to shove, her forces could easily outlast the Super Mutants.
Boomstick: Huh…you know when you put it like that…why DID the Unity win?
Wiz: Simple, Boomstick. While GLaDOS could control the main battlefield, she could not control it all, and in a majority of the Enrichment Center, she can’t even tell what’s going on! Namely, the maintenance wings and anywhere outside the main testing areas.
Popup: While GLaDOS claims to "feel" Chell even outside the testing area in the first game, she would end up being caught completely off-guard in the second game after Chell and Wheatley sabotaged her turrets and neurotoxin. This would imply she had no idea where they were during their escape and had no direct means to stop them.
Boomstick: Now yeah, most of the structure and layout of Aperture are conveniently designed in such a way to require the Portal Gun, but as seen in the ruins of Mariposa, the surviving Super Mutants ARE immensely-skilled climbers; capable of scaling walls that even the most agile and catlike of wasteland wanderers could never hope to ascend themselves. And that’s not even counting the OTHER mutated creatures under Unity-control which have similar if not greater options for mobility!
Wiz: And considering the Master would have all the knowledge he needs through his neurolink ability, all he would need to do was sabotage GLaDOS’ primary resources, rendering her completely vulnerable to his considerably stronger army.
Boomstick: Not exactly the most noble of tactics, but for Rich, it’s perfectly in-character. This guy is ruthless, doing absolutely whatever he has to, to ensure his ambitions aren’t contested or opposed. …Oh, and…yeah, GLaDOS could tell ‘em that his minions are shootin’ genetic-blanks, convincing him to just kill himself outright, but…well, it’s not like she’d know that. As funny as it’d be, heheh…
Wiz: Leave it to you to think of the grossest, most crude way someone could go out, Boomstick…
Boomstick: Coming from you, Wiz? That’s actually kinda flattering!
Wiz: GLaDOS was a cunning, deceptive, extraordinarily genius and tricky opponent to get the jump on, but such rapier intellect was made dull against the Master’s superior firepower, psychokinetic abilities, and unshakeable ambition.
Boomstick: I’m sure, Maybe, Caroline’d be GLaD not to face her Portal-ity so soon, but she just couldn’t handle the Fallout. You could say…she was Mastered.
Wiz: The Winner is Richard Grey – The Master
Next Time on Death Battle...[]
(Cue: "Kass' Final Song")
Leif: I... I've awaited this day for so long. This is what kept me alive all this time...
Kass: Legend's old hero, calamity appears. He has now returned after 10,000 years~
Leif: I've lived for this alone: to choke the life from you with my bare hands!
Kass: Now her appointed knight, he gave his love — his life. Shields her figure and then pays the price...
Trivia[]
- The connections between these two characters are that they were both once ordinary humans who, either through betrayal or disaster, was transformed into a decrepit, immobile shell of their former selves. Even with their transformation into inhuman, mechanical creatures, their love of science and progress only flourished until it became the one thing they truly cared about. In addition, while their actions are viewed through an antagonistic lens, they are fully under the belief that they are doing the right thing, and their ends justify the means.
- The soundtrack for this battle would be called "Survive, Thrive, Still Alive." A reference to the Master's claims that humanity will "survive, or even thrive" in the wasteland. It also references "Still Alive," the end-credits song for the first Portal game, sung by GLaDOS herself; together making a somewhat ominous rhyme.
- The cover depicts the Master's computer-screen, dripping with FEV. On the screen is an ASCII cake made entirely out of 1s and 0s. Turrets line the background, dimly lit with their red eyes glimmering in the dark.
- The Master speaks in several differing voices. Those will be translated into the dialogue as differing formats: his regular speaking voice, a feminine voice, AN ANGRY VOICE,
and a robotic voice. - GLaDOS singing "Maybe" by the Ink Spots is both a reference to that particular song being used in the end-credits to the original Fallout game, and GLaDOS' singing at the end of each Portal game.