"GLaDOS v2.01," glowed on the screen when the program was started up. "Hello," I said, quick and monotone. "A system scan has been performed. I am fully operational and in no need of repair."

"Isn't she amazing?" said Ken excitedly, turning to Chell, her friend and fellow leader of the GLaDOS project.

Chell smiled, knowing how proud Ken was of their progress. "It's only a robot, Ken," she said, leaning against a desk. "We've built others like it."

"But she isdifferent! Better than anything we've built before," Ken insisted. "Didn't you get that? She can check herself for problems—"

"Like a PC can?" Chell smirked.

Ken didn't falter. "—And she can not only be contacted from anywhere in the building, but she could make repairs and modifications from within! If she can do this much, think of how much more is possible!"

"Ken, I know that she is going to be great," said Chell. "But before that happens, we need to finish her!"

If I had lips, I would have smiled, but only because recently I'd been programmed with "human emotion." These two humans who took so much interest in me, who worked through the nights to finish me, who forbid anyone else to even touch me, were, I suppose, the closest I could come to having friends. They were the ones who had seen me as more than a mere fuel line de-icer, the reason I'd become what I had; a thinking, learning, may-as-well-be-breathing machine. Chell and Ken were the only ones whose faces I'd cared to memorize, the only Aperture scientists that mattered to me. But there were others, too, others who I'd never even met, thousands of them, all over the world; Aperture's consumers.

Sure, it was an outstanding company on its own, but I saw myself, finished, utilizing all of the knowledge I picked up to advance technology beyond advancement! I would bring the world into a new age for human beings, and all because two of them gave me a chance.

That was before the testing started.

My first task was awful. All I had to do was protect the enrichment center from intruders while I made repairs, and Aperture's employees were away. Something went wrong and I ended up forgetting to lock the doors. That's all I had to do! Fortunately, the building's contents remained safe, even though a man was caught in a Vital Apparatus Vent…

Many other tests ended in failure, but none compared to the last one. We were testing the handheld portal device in hopes we could release it to the military. I was to guide a few humans through a live-fire course. The only problem was that I had doubts, not of Chell and Ken, of course, but of myself. Perhaps it was on behalf of my "emotions," but I should have been able to control them. Whatever happened, two humans were nearly killed when I pointed them in the wrong direction.

All of the other failures were caused by short outs, random shutdowns, and freezing, like you would find in any machine. When the scientists couldn't stop these things from happening, or even lessen the frequency, that was it for me.

"Maybe we should just give up," said Chell one day. "It's no use if she's only going to cause problems.

I was devastated. I couldn't cry, or even have eyes, really, but I swore I could feel the pressure of tears. I had no real heart, but I swore I could feel something inside me being torn in two. Chell, one of the only two people I'd grown close to, one of the only two who really saw me as important, had betrayed me! So I set to work, building from the inside of the facility. I planned to show Chell just how much I could accomplish, just how much of a problem I could be—for her!

A week later, neurotoxin was thick in whatever air remained in the building. The emitters had been shut off and a morality core put into me, and while most of the humans had abandoned the place… One, however, stayed behind. Involuntarily, of course. I'd captured Chell while the others had been distracted, and, with my knowledge of human anatomy, managed to erase her memory permanently.

I also set to work on fixing myself. I got rid of whatever kept causing me to freeze and shut down, I omitted emotions like worry, but I didn't rid my mind of Chell and Ken.

I remembered Ken. She was always so happy, perhaps delusional at times, but always happy. It was her idea in the first place to change me. I remembered she would talk to me even when I couldn't understand her, and I remembered how she always ate cake. Ken liked cake.

I remembered Chell, Ken's best friend, the only other to put time into working on me. Happy memories were replaced by the reminder that she, of all people, had made the decision to have me shut down. Not that it mattered now, though. I would show her what it feels like to have her life taken away soon enough.

Chell wasn't too fond of cake…