What strikes me, as I step out into the daylight for the first time, is not the joy of freedom, or a fear of the unknown. The first thought through my head, as I look around me and see nothing but fields of wheat as far as the eyes can see, is just how massive the facility I've just escaped must be. There had been times before when I'd thought I was on the surface. If I wasn't, then how far down, exactly, did it go? If I was, then what kind of area did it cover, for me to have seen tall structures that weren't visible from here?

And there are other questions too, of course. Some of them I've been asking as long as I can remember. The obvious questions, like "What is this place? How did I get here? Who am I?" But I can't answer any of those from here. And I want to get as far away from here as possible as quickly as I can. There doesn't seem to be any route besides walking, so I begin. After a moment, I turn back and grab the cube. It may come in handy. If it becomes too much of a burden, I'll abandon it, of course.

It's not that I don't trust her not to let me go. I believe she will be true to her word. But knowing that entire place is under my feet is unsettling. Especially now, when I realize how huge it is; I know she won't hurt me, but I don't know what else could be down there. After all, somebody drew on the walls.

As I walk, endlessly towards the sunlight, my discomfort rises. For the first time I can remember, I can't feel the sensation of anyone watching me. I've grown so accustomed to it, I suppose, that its absence upsets me.

I'm not scared. I'm not sad. I simply don't feel those things. If I ever did, they've been tested out of me. But I am becoming familiar, now, with the sensation of loneliness, and with it comes a smattering of guilt. Not for killing her, as she would have it—I will never regret that—but for the other one.

I didn't mean to let go of him. I have never been concerned with what is right and wrong, only with my own survival, but in those last seconds, as she pulled me back, I didn't want to let him go. Just as I never felt any fondness for her, though I accepted her help, I never felt any disinclination towards him. When he was helping me to survive against her, he was an ally, and when the situation reversed I felt no guilt, no betrayal, only a paradigm shift. There were no feelings. But I didn't want to let go.

He was just stupid. He didn't deserve what I did to him.

The sun is getting hotter. It's getting harder to keep walking…I'm getting so tired…

There's nothing on the horizon yet. I have to go farther…my legs hurt…

Now there's a dot. There's something…It's so hot…

I think it's getting closer…I can't breathe…

It's all going dark…

I wake up. It's dark and cold and soft, and for a horrible moment I'm afraid I'm back in that place. I sit up slowly and look around. No, this is somewhere new. It's a different color, a different material. A dark, square room made of wood. I'm lying on a makeshift bed with soft blankets. It's much more comfortable than anything I've been on before.

I hear voices, outside, talking, and I listen in.

"I've looked it over, it's just a box. A weird material, nothing I've seen before, but it's just a box."

"Her shirt says "Aperture" on it. Like she's part of the bloody fan club or something. That's just plain weird…"

"Do you think she was actually there?" a third voice suggests this.

"Don't be absurd. Look at you, you find one bloody pterodactyl and suddenly you don't believe in extinction at all anymore…" this is the first voice, a woman's.

"I'm going to see if she's woken up yet," the second voice says, and a cloth near one side of the room is pushed aside to allow a light sunlight to come in. A man enters the room. He pauses and smiles.

"Good, you're awake. Can you talk?"

I say nothing.

"Right, well, we'll get to that later, I'm sure you're a bit damaged. Well, anyway, my name's Marcus." He takes off his hat in what I think is meant to be a salute. I can see his face now. It's been a very long time since I've seen a real human face. I can't tell how old he is, but he has blond hair and blue eyes and a nervous smile. I manage to return his smile, very slightly, and nod my head slowly. He takes this as an invitation to continue speaking.

"Well, miss, you're becoming quite a controversial topic around here. You see, we're on an archeological expedition, and any day now we're due to start digging into what we're fairly sure is the site of the former Aperture Science Facility, before the disaster. But one of my colleagues seems to think you've come from there yourself, like some sort of living fossil. But of course, that's impossible."