"Chell?" A voice rang through the dark. Atlas felt for a wall or something to help him support his weight. His crippled leg was not helping him move quickly through the dimly lit twists and turns of the underground maze. He repeated his cry for help twice more, but couldn't bare to say it again. The the burning sensation in his leg became to strong to support his weight, so he crumpled onto the floor. Splintered bits of crates stabbed into his sides, grooves forming where large pieces gouged scratches in his abdomen.

"P-Body…?" His voice drifted off until it was no more than a whisper. He had been stuck in these cave systems for who knew how long. He had no sense of time or direction, minutes felt like hours, and hours, eternities. He yelped in pain as a particularly large piece of wood cut his right leg.

"Someone, anyone? Please? Please..." His voice whimpered, then collapsed in on itself, "Where… Where am I?"

A voice, as soft as silk, as smooth as a tumbled rock, answered his questions. "You are a volunteer in The Nine-teen Trials, put on by Aperture Science. Remember, bring your daughter to work day is a perfect time to have her tested! But that's besides the point. Chell and P-Body have successfully escaped. Now it's your turn…"

"I'm not a volunteer! Why am I here?!" Atlas sobbed into the dark.

"You volunteered nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine-" The voice was cut off by a wave of static, the sound subsided and the voice continued, "You, Chell, and P-Body were subjected to these trials together. However, something happened to them, and they went rouge. They have escaped and left you to fend for yourself. You were knocked out, forgetting everything since you arrived up to now-"

"So what's the point of all this?!" He screamed, pulling strands of hair out. The stress, the fear, the desperation, they all piled up to form a kind of emotion he couldn't quite feel.

The voice gave itself a name, "I almost forgot to introduce myself, seeing how you were knocked out and forgot everything including me… Anyways, I'm GLaDOS. That's all you need to know about me. But feel free to ask questions. So long as they're not personal I'll try my best to answer them honestly." The floors vibrated as she released a low rumble. Which Atlas assumed was her version of a laugh.

"Why… Why did I volunteer?" Atlas was questioning everything from why chips were called 'chips', to his very existence. He figured that question was right in the middle of both of those other ones.

GLaDOS didn't continue. There was silence once more. Atlas was left along with his thoughts and questions. GLaDOS just wants to make me go mad. Turn me into a cyco. Atlas thought to himself, But why?

The throbbing in his leg had subdued but the sting from the splintered wood still remained. He cried in agony, wanting something, anything, to be there. He was most afraid of his own mind and what it could do to him. Of every torture in the world, this was by fart the worst. He was his biggest fear.

I faintly remember P-Body… Also Chell. Well, at least their names. GLaDOS said something about them going rouge. But how… Why? Atlas knew there had to be a way out. The woman's voice that came from somewhere within the darkness had alerted him that his previous companions had escaped. He suspected he had been a threat to them, so they crippled him then escaped. Why? Was the only thing he could think about.

He pushed himself up with much effort. I have to keep moving. What if P-Body and Chell come after me again? Or what if my leg gets infected? What if I die down here? Ugh… I'll never get out! But I have to try. He hobbled along on one foot until he hit something hard. His vision flashed white, and for a second he thought someone turned on some lights. He was temporarily blinded, but soon discovered it was just from banging into a wall.

Yes! Finally! I know it's not lights or anything, but at least it's something that can help me support my weight and find an exit! Atlas was pleasantly pleased with himself. Maybe I can escape after all.

He slid his hand across the hard, cold surface of the smooth stoned wall, every step leading him deeper into the caves. He had been walking for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes. The wall started to slant away from him, so he leaned against it every couple seconds. His leg was dragging him down, quite literally. Every rest stop his breathing grew more and more forced.

How long have I been down here? Atlas asked himself repeatedly. As his breaths became labored the stinging in his leg began to fade.

Maybe it's healing? First came the positive thoughts, but then the negative ones drowned out everything else. Or maybe it's becoming numb. Maybe it's falling off!

He bent down and touched the floor. It was made of the same material as the walls. Strange… He thought. I must be in a cave. He was well versed in earth sciences and knew straight away it was Basalt he was feeling. The smoothness was a dead give away. In that case, I must be somewhere near a volcano! But what if it were to erupt? Then what would happen to the poor crippled cyborg? His motherboard would be destroyed for sure. The mere thought of a volcanic eruption sent a shiver throughout his entire body.

I won't give in to my fears. I can't give into my fears! But first, I need to rest… He couldn't lie to himself about that. He felt as though he hadn't slept in a fortnight! He slowly and carefully eased the rest of his body onto the floor, being careful not to apply any direct pressure to his right leg. He settled his hands beneath his head, and shut his eyes. Not that it made much of a difference.

He rested until what seemed like morning, although it was difficult to be sure. The stinging in his leg had fully dissolved, however, when he attempted to stand up it returned, twice as strong. He made to yelp, but he found that a hand was clamped tightly over his mouth. This made him scream even harder, but the hand made it impossible for the slightest peep of sound to escape.

He clamped his eyes shut, praying it was just a bad dream. He tried to shut out his thoughts, but to no prevail. Have P-Body and Chell come after me?! What do they want from me?! They've striped me of my desire to live! Isn't that enough?! But apparently it wasn't, when he tried to push the hand away another smacked his jaw. His cheek was on fire. Pure instinct told him to reach up and cover his jaw, but he was afraid he might get slapped again.

He heard a whisper… Repeating something… Over and over… The same thing… With every syllable the voice grew in volume and strength.

"Atlas… Atlas… Atlas… Atlas… Atlas… Atlas…" It never stopped. Until it was almost screaming. The voice was coming from somewhere near Atlas. It was in his ear. Directly in his ear.

He tried to yell, he tried to push, to prod, to do anything he could to get the hand away from his mouth. He took two more slaps to the jaw, but nothing else besides getting the hand away seemed to matter to him anymore.

He was scared. He was scared of whoever had their hand over his mouth. He was scared of what they had already done to him. Of what they might do to him in the near future. But most of all, he was afraid of himself. He hed tormented himself the whole walk yesterday. His thoughts and his mind worked together to make his life miserable.

He knew he could take a few more slaps, he knew he had to get the hand away from him. He knew he could do it. But… He couldn't. He didn't have the energy to take one more slap. He didn't have the will to get the hand away from him. He wasn't strong enough. And he knew it.