She would not be able to subsist on canned beans and cold coffee forever; that much was certain.
And the song still haunted her, because their turret had just started singing at one point and hadn't stopped.
It was not a hopeful tune, but it resonated with her situation. Sucker's luck indeed. Chell did feel like giving up at times, and sometimes these trials really were too much. This entire experience had stretched her well beyond natural human physical, mental, and emotional limits.
Don't even try, the song advised.
It felt good just to know that there was someone else who understood. Wheatley tried - God bless his mechanical heart, he tried so hard - but he was only trapped in a fraction of the way she was. At least he would live forever, which could be worse depending on how you looked at it, but at least he wouldn't die here.
Chell was reminded of the first time she noticed the crude markings on the walls, a desperate attempt at communication or possibly to convey some crazed message. But it made sense to her. It was the warning she needed at the time. The cake was a lie and everything was not at all as it seemed. Someone else had come before and felt compelled to tell her that.
Now the scattered bits of text provided comfort, maybe even hope. Someone else had come before her and survived to write of it.
That was all Chell wanted, all any of them wanted, just to survive. Upward was the key, and onward. As long as they were moving up, they were making progress toward the surface. The surface supposedly had sunlight and cake and fresh water.
But for now they simply had to do something. They had to move. Only they couldn't go up because She was up there. No, they would have no choice but the flee into the deepest parts of the facility where with luck they would be out of sight.
There had to be a piece she was missing, perhaps something in the jumbled scribbles on the walls...
Did you fall for the same empty answers again?
"What do you think it means?" Wheatley wondered aloud, eying a particularly colorful marking. For a second she'd thought he was referring to the song.
It meant they weren't as alone as they had thought, and someone wanted them to know that.
This was both an exciting and terrifying concept.
The turret ceased her song, and the silence of exile closed in around them like the walls of GLaDOS' trap.