Geography
Whenever her eyes capture something new, Chell stops to memorize it.
If the voice happens to note her pause, she refuses to listen. As far as she is concerned, comments and silence can equally be ignored. Where that cheap brand of sarcasm changes nothing at all, the details she observes are of vital importance.
She moves as close as the environment lets her, in quiet, measured steps, and puts her mind at work harder than any other time.
She splits the walls in distances with her gaze. Laser, cube, unknown contraption – she names and classifies each anew, giving them a space in the imaginary map she is building.
Her knowledge of the place constructs itself, merciless. She leaves no room for error, no matter how small the change may be. Too many, too important, are the outcomes which depend on her efforts.
Because, if Aperture never bothered to know her beyond her subject tag, she is at least clever enough to do the opposite. She can only rely on her own findings – nothing more than that. And surely, regardless of their delusions, whatever lies they are trying their best to feed her are no match for the things she sees herself.
So she insists, stubbornly curious, in recording how the chambers grow. That she is judged and observed, if she even is anymore, she doesn't care.
At this point, her guesses are a certainty – it takes no less than this to get out of here alive.