'Sup, people? I'm back! I apologize for the long wait. It's unacceptable, really. But life has been, ah, interesting, to say the least. At any rate, don't worry, The Story Shall Go ON!

Disclaimer: (Fan), remember? Don't own nothing.

I trip over an exposed tree root and fall to the earth.

This was such a terrible idea.

The trio of Military Androids behind me stops and stares as I slowly get to my feet, shaking my head and wiping mud from my face. I mentally curse GLaDOS for what has to have been the thousandth time tonight. How on Earth had that oversized calculator convinced me into doing this?

"We have to keep moving," one of the Androids – Delta-Five-Something? – said as I readjust the helmet he had given me before we had left Aperture. "We cannot delay. Time is of the essence."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let's go then, huh? Wouldn't want to keep Wheatley waiting."

Delta-Five-Whatever ignores my comment. Turning back to his comrades, he continues on.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this, GLaDOS?" I say into the microphone inside my helmet. Because even though I was risking my life in her sworn enemy's facility, she still wanted to talk to me. Probably just so she could tell me what to do, though.

"Because I promised you cake afterwards," GLaDOS replies. "And because you wanted to go."

Oh. Yeah.

Walking onwards, Delta-Five-Something raises his fist. Instantly, the other Mobile Turrets stop, and I walked right into one. It ignored me – the Androids seem to be quite good at that – and survey the clearing we had walked into. This was the place I had been. The lady's corpse still lay halfway down the hill, but we were focused on the hive of activity in the nearby Research Facility. Mobile Turrets were stationed throughout the streets, several positioned at the access gate to the Black Mesa facility.

"GLaDOS," I asked. "Can you see this?"

"Yes." She answered. "It seems the Moron has been more productive than I first assumed."

"You don't say?" I quip, watching the nearest group of Mobile Turrets – they seemed to be on some sort of patrol – walk uncomfortably close to our position at the base of the trees. "What do we do?"

"Tell the Androids to execute mission plan Sigma. They will know what to do. Follow their actions exactly, and you should be able to get close to the building."

"You know you are insane, right, GLaDOS?" I query, not taking my eyes off the approaching Turrets.

"I am many things, Chell. Insane is not one of them. Genius? Yes. Calculating? Yes. Insane? Not on your life. Do as I say."

I tap Delta-Five-Whatever on the shoulder. "GLaDOS says, 'execute mission plan Sigma.' I'm supposed to follow you and get close to the Facility."

Delta nods and gestures to his fellow Androids, who flip a switch on their rifles and slowly drop to a crouch. I mimic them, resting a hand on the .45 that was still tucked in my jumpsuit.

The Androids slowly walk up to the group of Mobile Turrets on patrol and raise their rifles. Delta signals, and the Androids open fire. I can barely hear the silenced rifles spit out the bullets that end the Mobile Turrets existence. Moving quickly, the Androids pull the Turrets into a nearby alley. I follow, keeping an eye on other patrolling Turrets down the street, who have thankfully not seen the deaths of their comrades.

"Now what?" I ask of the Androids. One – Omega-Three-Nine? I have no idea – peeks out from the alley and surveys the street. He glances at Delta-Five-Whatever. The two machines nod. Delta unclips a metallic object from his belt and throws it down the street. It bounces twice and rolls to a stop at the feet of the Mobile Turrets guarding the entrance to the Facility. The object explodes, but quietly, and the Turrets slump to the ground.

The Military Androids walk out into the street, guns at the ready. I follow the Androids, who step over the inactive Turrets and placidly step into the Facility.

"What was that?" I ask, eyeing the bots.

"EMP grenade," Delta says, his red optic surveying the overgrown gardens surrounding the Black Mesa buildings. We walk to the door of the main building and step inside.

A wave of cold air hits me as we walk into the building. I glance about the building, which is surprisingly empty despite the activity outside.

"Alright. We're in. Now what, GLaDOS?"

"Find the Moron. I don't know how, but that idiot has somehow managed to make his way back to Black Mesa. You need to find him and bring him back here."

"How do you expect me to do that? It's a huge complex. He could be anywhere."

"Two options, Chell. Option One: You stay with the Military Androids and search the entire place together. Option Two: You split up. It's cliché, yes, but you'll cover more ground that way. You'll be able to find him quicker. You're not scared of the Turrets, are you?"

"I'm terrified," I confess. "But I don't want to spend all night here." I glance over to the Androids, who have grouped together and seem to be discussing their next objective. "What do I tell the Androids?"

"Tell them to engage anything that moves. I will not have any more Black Mesa abominations running about."

"Delta," I say. He turns and salutes. "We're splitting up. You and the other Androids are to engage all hostiles. Anything moves, you kill it. Understand?"

He nods and turns back to the Androids.

I sigh and walk towards the Main Laboratory wing of Black Mesa. "Just for the record, GLaDOS, splitting up to cover more ground is how all horror movies start."

"How many horror movies have you seen? I highly doubt your parents – adopted or no – allowed a seven-year-old to watch anything even slightly horrific."

"Be that as it may, I've heard enough stories and read enough books."

"Just look for the Moron, alright? Oh, yes, keep your eyes open for the Companion Cube, as well."

I nod, searching about the large room for the metallic constructs. "Where are you?" I ask to the empty room. I look under desks, behind cubicles, inside trash bins, but find nothing. "There's nothing here, GLaDOS."

"Keep looking. It's not like the Moron could get up and walk away."

"On the contrary, luv. That's exactly what happened." Says a voice behind me. I whirl around, hand going to the gun on my belt. Standing in the doorframe is a tall, pale man. His cold blue eyes bore into mine, an evil smirk on his lips. "Now, what have we here?" he asks, walking slowly into the room.

"Who are you?" I ask, backing up, hand still on my pistol. His voice seems familiar, but I can't place it.

The man grins. "What, you don't remember me? It's been all of what, two weeks?"

GLaDOS gasps, or at least what passes for a gasp for the A.I. "That's… Not… Possible."

"What's not possible?" I say into the microphone. Who is he?

"Oh, come of it, luv. Here, let me give you a hint. 'You might have a minor case of serious brain damage.' No? How about, 'This is the part where I kill you.' Still nothing? Wow. Brain damage does a lot to a person. How's this, then. 'Let Go! Let go, I'm still connected! I can still fix this!' Ring any bells?"

My eyes widen as the truth dawns on me. Oh my God. "Wh-Wheatley?"

He laughs. "Took you long enough, didn't it, Chell?" He stretches out my name, making it sound like an insult. "I knew she'd send you here. I knew she would send you to do her dirty work."

"She sent me to find you. To bring you back to Aperture."

"Don't say that name!" He shouts, slamming his fist on a desk. "Aperture forced me into that pathetic little sphere and attached me to that behemoth of a machine! Aperture made me, me, into a pitiful orb whose only use was bad ideas! Aperture stole me away in the night and hooked me up to some god-forsaken Transfer Device! And it's Aperture that's going to pay!"

GLaDOS seems to be in shock. "H-how… How is he human?"

Wheatley hears. "I'm here because of the genius of Black Mesa. My partner, Noah Mackie, had the foresight to save my body after Aperture took me. They were going to throw it in the Incinerator. He saved my body, took it here. To the Research Facility. Put me in a Stasis Chamber. A few days after I came online, he sent me a message, saying that if I ever got back to Black Mesa, to tell them to take me here and resurrect me."

"So what now?" GLaDOS asks. I repeat the question.

"Isn't it obvious?" he says, seeming genuinely surprised by her question. "You're going to die, Aperture."

I take an unconscious step back, mentally judging the distance to the nearest door. "We're not in Aperture. GLaDOS is ten miles away, safe underground. You'll never get that far. Even if you could, you'd never be able to kill her."

The man that used to be my ally grins evilly. "That's true." He takes a step forward. "But I can kill you."

"Chell, get out of there!" GLaDOS screams as Wheatley rapidly closes the distance between him and I. I whip the gun out of my belt. He pauses only for a moment before continuing his advance.

I fire. The round hits Wheatley in the chest. He staggers backward, but quickly regains his balance. He's laughing as he staggers towards me.

"Run, Chell! Run!" GLaDOS screeches. For once, I listen to her. I turn and sprint out the door to the Main Laboratory. I turn left, then right, trying both to lose Wheatley and find the Military Androids. I turn a corner and slam into Delta.

"Come on!" I shout. "We need to get out of here!"

An alarm sounds. Red lights flash around us as we run to the lobby and out the complex. I glance behind us and see dozens of Mobile Turrets chasing after us. I shoot randomly into the crowd of machines. One, maybe two, fall. The rest don't stop their pursuit.

We don't stop running. We race through the woods, trying to escape the onslaught of Black Mesa. We nearly lose them, but the machines seem somehow drawn to us. Somehow, we manage to make it to the wheat fields.

"GLaDOS," I say, gasping for breath, "Open the doors."

"Hurry, Chell," is her only reply.

We do. I can barely make out the shack that leads to Aperture. I can see the open door. I run as fast as my exhausted legs can carry me. For the second time in as many weeks, I collapse on the elevator lift. The Androids stand guard as the door closes, and the lift begins to descend. I hear gunfire. A lot of gunfire. I swear I'm able to hear Wheatley shouting.

Then the world goes black.

Once again, guys, I really apologize for me being too lazy to write this chapter, but I may have had a minor case of serious Writer's Block.

That's, uh, Wheatley. I was quoting Wheatley there.

Please Read and Review!

-Wolverinejoe.