Caroline walked across the deck, silently overseeing the staff. Clutching her clipboard, she would glance up and down, making marks on the stack of paper. In her five-minute reviewing session, there would be brief pauses for silence, in which she would gaze lovingly outside the windows and into the seas, watching the waves splash against the vessel, and for a moment forgetting about her duty altogether. Then the sounds of magnesium strips fizzling in a tube, pure potassium ingots sparking while gliding on the surface of bowls of water, and her flat shoes clanking against the wooden floor would return, snapping her back to reality.

"Finally," she sighed with relief, "Thank you, Aperture."

Her statement grabbed the attention of one of her subordinates.

"Oh, hey, Miss Faraday," a young woman with blonde hair turns to meet her supervisor, "I was just messing around with the various alloys that involve Chromium."

"Chronium." She smiled in wild fascination, "Like stainless steel!"

"Rightfully so, madam," The scientist opens a hatch on her workbench, which reveals a piping-hot foundry beneath. She then poured a batch of iron blocks down the shaft, and closed the lid.

Caroline looks at the lid in confusion. From her twenty years being in the field, she knew it wasn't going to work. She just don't have the courage to tell her, yet she's curious as to what will actually happen. Somewhere in her staff's flawed experiment found a surge of happiness and innocence she had shared with her father, back when they used to do little experiments together, one fragment of her memory that inspired her to join them, and to be standing here today.

"Tell me when it's done."

"Yes, ma'am."

She moved along the deck to take even more notes. A team is frantically soldering parts together. So far the only piece that had been completed was a black tube. The frenzied group had helmets and face shields which reflected sparks that had been emitted from the fusing of components. It will take an another three minutes for them to complete the outer shell.

She grabbed a fold-chair and watched. Occasionally someone would pick the prototype up and wave it around in marvel, then the others would snatch it back, fearing that the unfinished product would collapse. She dare not move, wanting to witness the assembly this mysterious device. Finally, the team fitted it together.

She stood up to see it. It resembled a backpack, while an aluminum-bound hose extends out of the bottom of the machine. The iron box attached to the straps and hose occasional rocks with the generators within, and with a flick of the switch along the base, it began to shake and whirr.

"It's working!" A scientist yelled in excitement. They then had high-fives with one another, until they noticed the secretary studying the invention in the background.

"Would you like to see it, Miss Faraday?" Asked the same scientist, "I think you may like it."

Two of them helped her with putting the straps on her shoulders. They gave them the hose, which they call a "Universal Wormhole Director". The machine shakes on her back, and so does her hands on the handles of the device.

"Madam," The scientist guides her sight to a grey board stood up next to the column, "Your index finger is right on the trigger. Aim the director at the wall, and pull the trigger."

"Wait— what does it do?"

"Give it a shot first."

She fired a shot. Any similar device before this would have fired bullets or rockets, yet this shot blasts out a stream of plasma. It immediately slammed against the material, rapidly expanding into an oval with a spinning edge, with the interior dancing with waves of colors.

"What's this?" Caroline responded.

"It's called a portal. Like a rift in time and space. A wormhole, to be exact."

"You mean, instantaneous spatial travel?"

"Precise, Miss Faraday. Go ahead and fire another portal."

She took aim at the other grey panel at the opposite far end of the ship, and pushed on the trigger. This shot took slightly longer to hit the wall, and when it did, it formed a similar oval, only this time, an image of herself, holding the device in her hands.

"Is this—"

She turned back to the panel. The original portal also now displayed an image, one that depicted her facing away, looking through the portal that sent her this very image. Her mouth widened. It wasn't possible, she thought. You can't build a wormhole.

"Try reaching in. We will need to know whether the 'travel' part works or not."

She reluctantly detached her left hand from the gun, and reached into the portal. Surprisingly, it went through the portal door. She turned to check if her hand did warp to the opposite wall. It was. The same hand sprung out of the opposite portal, shaking nervously. A truth that's undeniable.

"Yes!" The team's celebrations were in full swing, yet she manufactured no attention to them.

She took off. She dashed through the benches of work and experiments and found the stairs. She made it up to the Upper Deck and pushed the door to the office open, scaring her boss.

"Woah, woah, woah," Cave Johnson glared at his secretary, "What's wrong?"

"They built it," she panted, "The wormhole device is working."

"I'll go see."

They both rushed down the stairs. When they got down, the team had already been waiting for their arrival. The very same staff introduced the magical device to him.

"Mr. Johnson, I bet you have already heard from her about this."

"I wouldn't be here if I haven't."

"Right."

He demonstrated the device to his superior. He watched as Cave laughed sarcastically at some points he makes, yet he continued anyway.

"Box it up and push it to our investors," Cave concluded, "Then we can talk more about this 'wormhole thing'. Caroline, remind me to give a crap about him. Get the clipboard, mark it down."

"Yes, sir."

He left the scene with her trailing him. As they returned to their office, she began to cling onto his arm, and he enjoyed her company.

"You like the thing?" He asked as he gently stroked her hair, "If you do, I can add a few bucks to the little pool of money we call 'funding'."

"Yeah," She leaned closer to him, "I love it personally. Whatever your decision is, I'll support it."

"Huh, really?"

"I promise."

They got to the door. He gave her a heartfelt, almost impulsive embrace. He loved her dearly, and she will always be deserved to treat well.

"Thank you, Caroline."

"Thank you, sir. For everything."

He released her, and looked down at her eyes. It's a brilliant shade of hazel. Her hair flew as the winds blew across, and so does the collar on her outfit.

"You're adorable, you know that?"

A surge of dopamine hit her. She blushed uncontrollably, and turned away shyly.

"Don't tell me that," she smiled, "You're spoiling me."

"You need to hear that. You're too important to ignore."

"I'll work for free. I just want to work for you."

He closed in for a light kiss. She loved it.

"It's time," he said, "Let's head inside."

She took his hand, and they walked in.