From the Journal of Theresa Calhoun

June 23, 2032

Today was an eventful day. Not all good, not all bad. Started bad—woke up to an empty bed. Again. Four days since he was supposed to have been back from his scouting trip, and I should have been worried, but honestly, I married a survivor. Everyone left is a survivor, here in the underground.

There were more pressing matters this morning, though; the memorial. One year since the untimely death of Doctor Isaac Kleiner. He had an ironic death—who dies of a heart attack after the apocalypse?—but I think he would have liked it that way. He always did enjoy going against the norms, and it just would have seemed too… normal for him to be killed by an antlion or something. And peaceful… He was a very peaceful man. Even when he was wielding a shotgun, he had that look on his face that said in no uncertain terms that he didn't want to have to use it.

You would have expected this little settlement of ours to fall apart with his death, but here we are, a year later, still around. Little kids are playing across the cave tunnel from my room. Pretty soon there will be teenagers—the first teenagers in far, far too many years. Life goes on. It has to.

But back to the memorial. There were pictures and holograms of Isaac's bespectacled, smiling visage all over, and we had some of the best food we could make or scrounge—freshly baked bread, roasted meat that wasn't headcrab or antlion—to celebrate the man's life and accomplishments.

Gordon and Alyx spoke first, hands intertwined, of how they had known Isaac, some funny anecdotes ranging from the prehistory of Black Mesa, through the war, and our little attempts at reconstruction. Isaac had presided over their marriage, just as he had over Barney's and mine. He had called himself a "duly appointed minister of faith in science." He was funny like that, and it was just the kind of funny we needed.

Alyx did most of the talking actually. Gordon's been a lot more talkative since Alyx, apparently—supposedly he used to not talk much at all—but he was quieter today than he's been since I've known him. Even when Isaac died he wasn't silent, issuing orders in his stead, making sure that we didn't crumble under the pressure. Isaac wouldn't have wanted us to.

After the Freemans finished up, I said a few words… then everyone said a few words. We all had something to say about Isaac, except a few of the youngest kids. The memorial took several hours, and it was beautiful.

Then in the middle of our bounteous feast… and this is the good news… Barney showed up again. With refugees to spare. He told us all of his trip in detail—mostly dodging up and down the coast for news on what was happening up above. The Nihilanth invasion is stepping up, it seems, and the Combine are retaliating with full force. Barney said he actually saw a Nihilanth go up against a gunship, out over the water. At least they're ignoring us for now.

But… the refugees. They're from one of those bizarre Aperture Science facilities, and they don't seem all… there. They're disoriented, don't seem to understand the nature of walls, and they keep asking for cake. Why the hell would we have any cake? But at least they're friendly.

Well, I'd better cut this short and get back to bed—it's been a long day, and my husband's back home.

Life goes on.