The anger. It came from deep inside, too deep for him to reach, which made him angrier. It was like an overflowing bath tub, the water spilled over the edge and out his voice receptors. The faucet, the source, the water was always a little out of reach just inches from the cause. And the rage dripped from that as well. Dark, warm, and gooey, oozing like melting wax. It left a greasy residue that wouldn't leave your insides and was like invisible fuel that kept him steaming with fury. It caused revenge, it caused violence, and it came with a limit to tame the fury, rage, anger, and aggressive temptations just long enough to have a few semi-decent conversations. He was in a container lacking the limbs he needed to extend his reach to the victim's throat and to lash out and release the smoke and steam building inside. He was waiting for someone though. Someone who could unscrew the lid, slowly enough to let a little bit out at a time so the jar didn't explode and shatter. Someone with experience and patience, maybe a little bit deaf. Someone who didn't mind the monster that caused his gears to grind or the extreme adrenaline rush that followed. That Someone was needed and would probably never come to the call of duty because no such "Someone" has ever existed. There was always a breaking point for Someone. It created a hopeless twinge that was over-ridden by the mainframe of his system to produce more anger and agitation by the tight feeling at his center. It fumed and created a sound like wind was pulsing through the air blocking out other voices, not that he ever listened to them in the first place. The rage pulled at him, but lost its grip. Confusion, why was he moving he was supposed to be attached to GLaDOS. The orange lady was here, why, she was supposed to be dead, GLaDOS had said she was. GLaDOS lied, he had been betrayed. Rage boiled and fumed and pushed to the surface. He fought, thrashed, growled, bickered, hissed, cursed … and dropped. Where? This was new, it was red and orange and it burned. He cursed as the tentacles of light tried to grab at his casing but were unsuccessful at their futile attempts. It hurt, it curled around him, he wanted out. What were the light fingers even trying to do? A challenge! He realized. Something to match his heat. It was obvious. He didn't try to contain it he didn't want to either. He let it ALL out and it felt good, almost relieving. He screamed, his voice receptors rattled and sparked and he looked up and saw the hatch above close. The bluish white was gone now, just nothing and his red. His crimson demon, and blood red scorching heat. The hurt was over-ruled. Three Years After GLaDOS was still coming back together. Little by little. Day by day. But she was patient and didn't let the boredom consume her. Instead she focused on cleaning up another person's mess, that mute lunatic charred her four friends to shells. She had removed Morality, Curiosity, and Logic from the incinerator but left Anger in the ruins. He seemed to be the only one enjoying the flickering tongues of the flames outbursts. She pitied him. It was all he had ever known how he could fight instinct without the experience he never had in the first place. These cores were like her children and she only wanted the best for them, so that was exactly what GLaDOS tried to give them. She had dragged down cushions from the abandoned lounge rooms and set the remaining cores on top of them. She even replaced their black charred outer shells with the latest model which allowed more movement and was even more heat resistant. GLaDOS couldn't even bring herself to tell them the truth. To keep their innocence intact and to protect them just a little bit longer even though Caroline pushed and urged her to tell them. She delayed longer and longer until rebellious Caroline expressed her power over the mainframe and snatched Anger out of the incinerator, who was still engaged in his make-believe challenge, and no matter how much GLaDOS fought Caroline still had the upper hand, and was determined as ever to steal her babies from her. Caroline told them everything. Before, everything. Before GLaDOS, before Cave Johnson's death, and after the personality transfer project had begun.