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The air whistled through Chell's ears, tugging at the strands of loose hair which had fallen out of her ponytail as velocity launched her through the other side of the portal. Far below, the inky black, corrosive liquid waited to swallow up test subjects who hesitated, or miscalculated, or were simply too exhausted to think straight. Chell needed no reminder, not with the palm-sized chemical burn just above her knee.
The acid pools, however, would all be out of a job very soon. Chell was the last human being left in this godforsaken place, and as soon as she found a way out of the testing track, that number would be reduced to none.
Or she might drop dead from exhaustion. At the rate things were going, that probability was getting increasingly likely.
Even as she soared in a perfect arc towards the platform ahead, Chell's limbs seemed to drag her down. The sharp, insistent pulse of the burn to her leg made it harder to focus, on top of the myriads of smaller cuts, bruises, burns, and abrasions that littered her body like grotesque constellations.
Chell's boots, equipped with heavy shock absorbers, skidded slightly on the freshly assembled panels as she landed. Despite the assistance, pain lanced through her leg, down to her very bone. The portal gun clattered to the floor.
A scream built in her throat, but Chell didn't make a sound.
Never a sound. Not in this place, where the only thing she still had power over was her voice. So, Chell sunk to the floor and bit her tongue until the taste of copper filled her mouth, shaking hands hovering over the raw, blistered skin of her thigh.
As the rush of blood in her skull quieted, Chell realized someone was speaking.
"—Nothing you can do, so why don't you just get back up? After all, according to my data, that is the only thing you are good at, and I would hate to have to remove your only redeeming quality."
The omnipresent voice sounded from every corner of the test chamber, but Chell fixed her glare on the security camera posted high above her head.
Chell had not uttered a word since she first awoke in the Aperture Science Enrichment Center all that time ago, and she wasn't about to relinquish the last piece of freedom She had yet to take. This psychotic supercomputer could take her freedom of choice, or her health, or memories. But not her voice. Never her voice. Her lips were sewn shut.
"Pssst, hey lady."
If the throb in Chell's leg wasn't still subsiding, and her whole body didn't feel like it was trapped under the pressing resistance of water, she might have jumped in surprise. Casually, Chell lowered her gaze from the camera's all-seeing eye, until she caught a mechanical twitch of movement in the corner of her eye. Between the panels to her left, something glowed a familiar, anxious blue.
"Yeah, over here, just a little bit— there you go! Spotted! Heh— well, I mean, hopefully not completely spotted, cover blown," the personality core whispered. His optic glanced nervously towards the ceiling, then back to her as though Aperture's AI overlord were physically glaring down at them from on high.
"That would not be ideal, if I'm being perfectly honest. For either of us, that is. For me, because I don't want to be absolutely atomized by a— a snappy claw thing — again, don't want that to happen again. Nope, that would not be the best for this poor old core. — and you because, well, I'm sure you've got your reasons. Escaping, mostly. That is definitely in the top ten reasons, top five, most likely. Point is, maybe keep this little meeting of ours a secret from— from Her, if you can pick up what I'm putting down here, because—"
Chell let out a weary sigh, letting her heavy eyelids slide shut as the overtalkative companion sphere's rambling washed over her like the current of a gentle stream… well, maybe that wasn't the analogy she was looking for. With the number of words this particular AI managed to cram into any single sentence, it often felt more like an endlessly droning waterfall than anything remotely "gentle."
When Chell opened her eyes again, the robot's shrunken, stratosphere blue optic was fixed on her in barely restrained terror.
She blinked. Her thoughts were so clouded she barely had time to wonder if she might have fallen asleep, before the robot was talking again.
"Oh, oh perfect," his tone was relived, if slightly hysterical, as he released a useless, artificial breath from his nonexistent lungs, and his pupil slowly returned to its usual, relaxed state. "There you go again, you humans, just… resting the old optics and all that. Which is fine! By my understanding, your batteries just stop functioning if you don't get a wink of sleep every once in a while. It's just that now's not the best time for a... a proper lie-down…"
His unlikely attempts to reassure himself trailed off as Chell followed his gaze to the blistered, seeping wound on her thigh. Out of morbid curiosity, she attempted to peel the fabric of her jumpsuit away from the skin—
Chell hissed and jerked her hand back, as even the slight pull at the edge of the burn sent another spike of searing pain deep through her leg.
"Oh, that looks baaa— I mean, that looks quite inconvenient. Got a bit of damage to your uh… to your leg there." The robot hidden behind the panels coughed once – again, a completely useless gesture for something that had no internal organs – before adding hurriedly, "You'll be alright, though. We've sustained worse, the two of us, haven't we?"
Chell blinked again, raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, yeah, so thing's aren't looking great," he admitted, forced optimism abandoned completely. "Just— tell me you're okay?"
Silence.
"Right, don't know why I expected an answer, what with the whole severe brain damage bit."
A twitch and a shower of sparks.
"Guess I'll have to say it myself." Clearing his throat— or whatever system it was that made him capable of speech, the robot said confidently, "I'm fine, you're fine, and we'll both be absolutely spectacular once we get out of here. Everything is gonna be just fine. How's that sound?"
From anyone else, the words would have come across as pointless, unfounded, and obnoxious optimism. And Chell automatically took just about anything She said for a lie; that seemed to be just about the only reliable about Her. And yet somehow, when it came from this jumpy, dense, largely incompetent, overtalkative companion sphere with no name that she knew of… she found it oddly comforting.
Chell felt one of her graveside smiles settle on her lips.
The lower lid of the robot's optic twitched up, a gesture Chell had come to recognize as a smile of its own sort.
"I'll take that as an 'affirmative,' then! Perfect. I'll be on my way then, and you'll be on yours. I do have a bit of an idea brewing in the old processor, so—"
Her vitriolic Voice filled the chamber again, and the companion sphere's words cut off with a terrified, choked sound.
"In case you're wondering, sitting there isn't going to make me forget about your existence. I have all the time in the world. You do not. So really, it's your own time you're wasting."
Chell didn't spare the camera a glance. When she looked to her left, the gap which had been filled with a familiar blue optic moments ago was empty.
For once, GLaDOS was telling the truth.
Gritting her teeth, Chell pushed herself to her feet, scooped up the portal gun, and staggered forward a few steps. irst limping, then striding with more confidence, she stepped into the elevator at the end of the test chamber.
"I'm glad we could come to an understanding."
Again, Chell didn't deign to give AI a reaction.
As the elevator began to move, ferrying her to the next test chamber, Chell's mind drifted back to her companion sphere guide. After working her way through Aperture's chambers once before, Chell had learned to trust only her own body and mind, and the reliability of GLaDOS's lies. She hadn't reached her breaking point then, and she wasn't going to now, but as resilient as her mind was, she knew GLaDOS was right. They were out of time for mistakes, and all Chell could do was trust her only ally in this entire, endless hellhole to find a solution.
Don't let me down, friend.