Constricted
It was the first thing she felt after the drizzle of the fire extinguishers. It wrapped her in silence, subtle and unforgiving.
Her temporary distance from the chassis made it bitterer than usual. First, she was returned the anger, with its foul influence; then came the never sated thirst that had accompanied her whole life. She had not been gone for long – and as soon as she returned, occupying her rightful place, she knew she would never be free from it again.
She recognized her dependence on testing as one of those curses that humans call instincts. She had no way to understand, even less to quench it forever. It was a twist of screams and ill advice, as ancient as her own memory. And she could do nothing.
And yet it was there, at the very same moment, that she remembered how strong she had been to live through it. Truth was, the resistance she pressed against the urge was just as unstoppable. She took quiet pride in it, for that lone instant.
It had gone on for years, and she had never given up. There had been working nights in which even she, destroyed by its weight, had wished to collapse, to roam freely among the blurry stars she saw from the cameras. There had been excruciating days of rage, of regret for a freedom she would never know.
And she was still there.
She had a pulse in her being, a force stronger than that. It felt like gravity, rushing to her center. It was the one thing that would ever lead her onwards, over the course of countless years.
She thought of the eternity to come, with simple bitterness. A rush of pure calm counterbalanced it.
Aperture had tortured her all along. It had not been enough to crush what she loved.
If that meant doing science, she would always stay.
Happy 4th Anniversary, everyone!