The inevitable was coming.
He didn't know how he knew, he just did. The girl was going to wake up, and then She would wake up. The fallen palace would be rebuilt, slave work would resume. For science.
With a shaky hand, Doug gripped a small paintbrush, and dipped it in some type of gel. Smoothly running it over a broken panel, he started his newest picture.
His hands seemed to take a life of their own as they flew across the panel, his canvas. Needing almost no guidance from him, they worked to make a piece of strange art that seemed oddly in place, like the room would be empty without it.
As he painted, he thought. He had thought he had fixed everything. That the Queen would be dethroned and the girl would escape. But he knew he was wrong.
No matter how hard one could try, She would always com back. Never leaving, always watching. And the girl, Doug knew she tried hard, but she would never fully win. Something would always hold her back.
Somethings would always go wrong.
He was completely alone, and even if he wasn't no one would want to interrupt him. His hands moved in a frenzy, a bit of orange here, now blue, maybe some black. He was never sure why he painted, maybe it was just to release painful memories from his mind. He drew anything he could, the girl, cubes, but it just never seemed enough.
He continued to paint for hours, not noticing that this one picture spanned the length of at least four panels. He barely noticed anything, with how deep in thought he was.
He was thinking of the old Aperture, the one he loved to work for. Crazy ideas, cheerful coworkers, pure science. Before the place turned into hell. Before screaming and terror, pain and misery, all under her cold yellow eye.
Doug stopped, suddenly. He was finished. Taking a step back, he looked up in shock of what he had subconsciously drawn while so deep in thought.
Himself. Facing Her. No cube, no turrets, nothing else but him and Her. Written underneath the painting in his scrawling hand writing was "Don't Even Try".
To anyone seeing the painting, they would think that it would be the man who shouldn't be trying. To just give up, it wasn't worth it.
But to Doug, the words were for Her. She could try all She wanted, She could do anything at all. But he would never stop fighting. He would never give up. Ever. Even when it all seemed impossible, he wouldn't stop trying.
He was terrified, but fearless. Hopeful that he might conquer the monster one day, but sad he would be destroying the worlds greatest creation.
With a sigh, Doug leaned against the wall. He would soon have to give up he free style of painting for warnings and foreshadowing scribbles.
He knew the storm was coming, he knew that something bad was going to happen, and soon.
The inevitable was coming.
