Author's Note: Hey, its me again. Long time, no see. Sorry about not keeping in contact. I know its been ages since I finished with my previous really short fanfic but I mean come on it took me a year to write it and I only just finished uploading it to another site. I'm lazy, sue me. I'd like to thank my Beta Reader: Ia~Loves~Art (check out her devianArt account, trust me its awesome) for helping me with my editing (who am I kidding, doing it for me). The name of this fic is changeable but any suggestions must have the word 'New' in it. If anyone seems OC or if my writing is cringe worthy, let me know and I'll see what I can do. Imma try and upload everywhere but again I'M VERY LAZY. This is probably the last you'll hear directly from me, personally I HATE AUTHOR'S NOTES. Thanks for clicking on my story, please keep reading. :D
The stars winked throughout the galaxy, reflecting off a core of metal, which seemed determined to collapse in on itself, floating aimlessly across the sky. The pinpoints of light bounced off the metal casing, sending shattered light out mixing with the darkness and colours that made up the universe. A thick, heavy silence surrounded the metal and was only broken occasionally by the distant, annoying shout of"SSSSPPPPPPAAAAACCCCEEEEE".
The metal core was dirty white, covered in dents and scratches, although most of the cracks were hidden beneath a layer of grime. Steel grey metal peeked through the white where the paint had been worn away and peeled due to extreme temperatures. The ghost of an Aperture Science logo lay across the hull of the abused metal, barely visible but still as fear inducing as ever. An optic stared dejectedly at nothing, hanging low and void of any emotion. It was almost closed but was bent out of shape, the twisted metal unable to close, keeping the optic open and vulnerable. A pale blue light spilled out of the optic, clouded by asteroid dust, the kind that cost millions to mine, and a deep crack through the lens was caked with all forms of dirt. Handles on either side of the optic lay limp, looking uncomfortable and unnatural, as they rested on the hull. The dark colour of them was speckled with white dust and the padding of the handle was worn away in one place, almost down to the metal, where the thumb of a silent, slightly brain damaged women once rubbed it in comfort. This forgotten hull sparked and twitched every now and then, although it was hard to say if that was due to internal damage, as wires were poking out of the casing of this Aperture contraption, or if it was trying to collapse in on itself.
The hull sparked and started to vibrate, a steady humming of life starting the fill the infinite silence of space. A small piece of asteroid, perhaps a long forgotten star that finally fell from grace, came shooting past, barely missing the metal core. The force of movement of the falling star sent the still humming core drifting after it, spinning slightly on its axis. Another object followed the star, moving jerkily through the gravity free air, handles jerked up and down without rhythm. The smaller, yellow glowing core failing IN SPACE wasn't lucky enough and crashed into the vibrating core, handles still moving, hitting the hardware of the core repeatedly while continuously screaming "NOOO COME BACK STAR, WANNA STAY IN SPACE, SSSPPPPPAAACCCEEEE". The blue optic of the vibrating core suddenly shrank to a pin point, like a pupil exposed to sudden light, vibrating stopped and started randomly, and a rainbow of colours explode across the optic, like a horrible trip. It finally settled on a dangerous red with the word error flashing periodically.