I love reviews people. I need to know how I'm going and whatnot. Thank to those who do. Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 11

Doug had a staring contest with the door for some time. Wheatley was busy figuring out who was winning. Lydia just wanted open the damn thing.

His constant hesitation bounced him out of the loop, borderline unaware of his surroundings. By the time he'd gotten his head back to base, Lydia was standing there, patient, but underneath being slightly belligerent. Doug gulped and gave an apologetic nod in her general direction. His mind always betrayed him like that and only like that.

He stood back from the door and studied it's frame. Still round like what he was used to, but never failed to unnerve. He made the first brave steps towards it and heard the hydraulics in action as it slid open, much to Lydia's near stunned face. Smoke cliche'd it's way through the doors, Wheatley impressed with the added drama and mystery. He liked it's doom covered aesthetics. Lydia gripped on to her sword closely, with a near hyper-awareness that protected her.

The next room had a lit up white sign, with black text saying, "Observational Room 13" with an arrow pointing to the left. Doug gulped and adjusted his collar, noticing that the temperature had risen slightly, but then held down the fact that it was in his head. Wandering the halls and catwalks, hearing those cute but terrifying turrets and the Woman from Down Below watching his every move. Fear kept him alive, so it seemed.

Lydia caught a glimpse of silver and pushed Doug and Wheatley against the wall while she went to see the problem and confirm her suspicions. All Doug heard as he closed his eyes was a minor splutter and several squishy noises, following by a thump. Doug heard Lydia's whisper and ordered them over. It was obvious that she'd killed someone. Doug saw the body on the floor to confirm it. Another Nord, laying on the ground, his hand loose, once grip on the silver blade that he had wielded. Bald with a Dark brown beard and the last wrinkles on his face were shaped in horror on top of the expressionlessness. His armor was better than most, made of sturdy steel.

Lydia stayed in front as she and Wheatley kept muttering something about the black tiled walls. Doug trailed behind left alone in his thoughts as usual. The corridor wasn't as long as the others, as it lead to a dead end, with a window looking over a room full of white tiled walls. This is what Doug was so petrified that this was going to happen, although he should have expected it, with the clues and first hand evidence right in his face. Lydia walked with Wheatley all the way to the window and pressed her palm against the glass.

"Oh no..." She breathed.

"Is that...is that her down there? She looks a lot tinier from here." Wheatley babbled.

Doug's feet dragged against the floor as he stood behind the pair, not looking forward to what he was about to see...

The entire room was white. Save for a single electronic door. On the back wall, they could see someone behind glass that entrapped the individual behind it. Three glass panels encased them and joined up with the back wall, creating a cage like effect. They were slouched over, sitting on the floor with their hands behind the back, their legs bending up in front of them. Long, dull-brown tattered and oily hair covered their face. Bandages were wrapped around their ankles, with cuts and bruises everywhere amongst the dirt and muddy skin stains. They watched as someone else came through the door on side.

They had long grey hair and a mighty equally grey beard, their armor, strangely different, as Doug noticed. It appeared gold and very solid with near geometric shapes adorned. He held a gold-glinted warhammer on his back, a devilish grin picking at his abhorrent manner.

"So now we meet." Said the man, his accent giving off his Nordic origin. In those four words alone bestowed the person to jump and flick their hair out of their face. Doug's face twisted in shock as he knew those grey-green raging eyes anywhere.

She was shaking, with the bags under her eyes greater than Doug had seen them last, that he could see them from afar. Her face was covered by a black cloth that looked like it was wrapped tight around her head. The Dragonborn wasn't scared, she was extremely pissed off.

"It was only a matter of time before we caught you. You were proven elusive. But your bold rage over your Shield-Brother lead you straight to us. Not a smart move, Harbinger."


Doug no longer had his doubts. The Dragonborn was down there. And he couldn't lift a finger to save her. The man attempted to run off to find a way into the room, only to be pulled back Lydia.

"What? We can't leave her there!" He cried to her.

Lydia glared. "There's are going to be dozens of Silver-Hand members around. The one I killed? One of many. We have to see how this plays out."

Doug's eyes widened at the prospect. "Are you insane? She's going to die in there if we don't do something!"

Wheatley stood before Doug, despite having no clue what they were on about. But he soon got the gist of it.

"Yeah, I'm with Douggy...you sure this is the right way to do it?"

Lydia frowned. "As much as I hate to say it, the Dragonborn can handle herself in these situations. It's not actually...her...I'm worried...about..."

She trailed as she became fixated on the Nord below. He'd grabbed a small, grey rectangular device and started pressing buttons. He laughed as the white panels around the Dragonborn started shifting, revealing the robotic arms underneath. Wheatley almost wet himself as he saw them, if he had a bladder. Long, metal spears that sparked sent shivers down Doug's spine, although his expression seemed to have changed during this time. This had all the markings of her, but the cruelty that only human could possibly provide.

The Nord laughed again, which became infuriating to the Dragonborn as her fuming eyes looked at the four pointy electrical spikes that surrounded her.

"You know, I've studied you mutts through my mages and you know that there are two ways to force a transformation. Willingly, and unwillingly. The latter tends to be stronger, but a cost of self-control." He said.

"Galar the Hearty, shall laugh at your tremoring. But, these...gifts of power from our God, will be able to restrain you far greater than your muzzle."

Doug was bothered by all these dog like metaphors. He couldn't understand the logic behind it, unless he was a complete chauvinistic pig who treated all women like this.

"This room lock and seals the magicka flow in the air." Galar continued. "I'm not much of a magic user myself. I'm your classic Nord warrior, proud to honor the Silver-Hand traditions of ridding the world of you bastard pups, but we are willing to do it what it takes to wipe you all out."

The mentioning of siding with a God disturbed Lydia. In the corner of Doug's eye he could see it in her face when he mentioned it before.

"Damn these Gods. God..." Wheatley complained out of his own, pitiful anger. Doug trained back to the Dragonborn, who looked far worse than she did before. He could imagine the damage done to her, getting thrashed about by low-life scum who had a smug sense of superiority. Her wounds were proof of that assumption. Sadness and whimpering weren't the style of her psychological defense. Nor was she scared by what Lydia declared was ruthless and Daedric type torture. Veins threatened to pop out of her forehead, brows drawn as her face scrunched in pain every time she was poked and electrocuted by the needle-like apparatus. Every shock and prod gave a vicious and rabid growl that echoed across the room. When she changed her posture, Doug could see she was wearing nothing but her yellow undergarments, consisting of bras and panties. There were more notches on her stomach, a few more bruises located close to her thigh. Galar was not helping with his sinister and wicked laugh, tormenting the Dragonborn and urging her to 'change' already.

What ever this change was, she clearly did not want to do it. This was not the work of a relentless God. From what Doug had researched, most of the Gods were quite benevolent, and in their mythology helped build the world. Although there were stories and legends of less than holy Gods back in ancient tales, Tamriel's were a lot different. He turned to Lydia in search of anything.

"This is definitely the work of a Daedra." Lydia announced. "It wouldn't be the first time one of them would be offering to pose itself as a God."

It still didn't explain what the change business was all about. Galar talked about forcing the change and changing willingly, which meant the Dragonborn was hiding something from him. Unless it had something to do with the Shouts, he was trying to figure out what it meant. By the Dragonborns current state of mind about it, he believed it was a painful event, especially if teased about it to the point where it's categorized as 'forced'.

The growls became louder and hollow as the Dragonborn was shaking violently. She squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head back, slapping her feet to the ground in frustrated desperation. Doug honored her for her strong will, holding herself quite well despite the situation. Her resilience was astounding, so desperate not to break out. There were a few times Doug could see something happening underneath her pale and bruised skin. If she wasn't careful, she was going to pop that very vein on her forehead. Galar briefly deactivated the needles, the Dragonborns head slumping down for a second of rest and recuperation. Her breathing was heavy, judging from the rapid movements from her chest area, sweat dripping out from every pore.

"Hmm...it seems my methods aren't working. I'll have to resort to a more...persuasive method. My God, what shall I do?" Galar called out, never losing his twisted esteem.

For a moment, there was a silence, the three of them looking around the room to find where this God was. The quiet was broken by static and a few beeps.

"You are quite the test subject. There was only one other with your bountiful nature. And as it appears, she also had your body type."

That auto-tuned, near-husky womanly voice instilled great horror that sent shuddering waves throughout Doug's body. It couldn't be...

"You are also not cooperating. From your profile you do not have fleas, therefore you cannot be itching which is caused by fleas. You know what else sucks blood from your skin and doesn't cooperate? If your answer was Mosquitoes, you were wrong. A dash of friendly neurotoxin can work it's way around with mosquitoes, cooperating it's function with their deaths. Unfortunately you cannot be 'put down' with the friendly neurotoxin. It has been confirmed that it will have a chemical reaction in your blood stream, changing molecules in the way your bodies cellular canine attributes act in defense, not unlike a human's white blood cells. Which will also change."

Lydia frowned, then looked at the stunned expression of Doug, and maybe Wheatley. The mention of 'Canine Attributes' was disturbing.

"Sounds like a Daedra. You both should leave right now." She ordered, her tone half scared and half fierce.

Doug shook his head. "We can't..." He said, pressing his hands and nose against the window.

Lydia creased her brows. "You two haven't met a Daedra before. They're extremely dangerous and should be approached with extreme caution."

Wheatley stood back. "That...that isn't a Daedra...is it Doug? Is what...is what we're hearing..."

Doug grunted and lowered his head, softly tapping the window with his fist.

"There's no doubt. Her voice is the dead give away."

Lydia looked between them both, confused by what they were talking about.

"Who's she?"

Before Doug could answer, her voice interrupted them.

"What I was perplexed to believe was that, unlike my favourite test subject, was that you have friends. That's nice. So do I."

Doug swung around as he heard mechanical noises operating behind him. He tried to open his mouth to call out Lydia's name as a giant tube lower down on top of her, sucking her inside, but instead was met with his own cylindrical piece of round metal and plastics, it's vacuuming strength pulling him, and also Wheatley by the looks of it, up and through a series of a twisting dark labyrinth, knocking him about inside before being harshly blown out onto a white tiled floor.

He was knocked out the floor for a moment, his vision black. Voices riddled in his mind. He was due for another episode, not unlike the one he'd had by the Hot Springs. Instead of the childish voices, he was met with only one.

Hers.

It'd flashed back to when he'd awoken from his deep sleep, after having saved Chell from possibly dying while she was out of consciousness. All he saw, was her chassis in a dome shaped room on a similar white floor. This memory was slightly cloudy, only her voice wasn't. Her slightly bent rectangular white box served as her main eye, with her yellow light encased in charcoal-colored tech staring at him. Despite not having a face, Doug felt her impending, lethal stare. She moved around, her body attached to the ceiling as she examined him. She muttered a few things, although Doug felt that was being blocked from full access to his memories. He definitely remembered the insulting words that caused Doug to be hurt as well as slightly angry.

"I never got to thank you for making the perfect modifications to the Aperture Science Hand Held Portal Device. They were just perfect for testing. I have gotten results from some very pleased test subjects. So, now that you're here and I hold your brain in my custody, why don't you use your...grabby little hands and get back to work. It will be like old times you and me. Because I know you won't murder me. And I've taken all the precautions to make sure you will get a safe work environment. We don't want you suddenly dropping dead from accidentally spilling neurotoxin on yourself."

The memory faded to black quickly as Doug was forced up by extending claws that gripped on to his robe collar. Galar stood there, his warhammer on perfect show in front of him, glistening amongst his well presented arrogance. The claw let go as Doug saw that Wheatley and Lydia were beside him.

"Don't think I didn't know you three were wandering around. There were hidden cameras inside those androids were very helpful. They were also very expensive. You're lucky we have insurance to cover that."

Doug gulped. He heard Galar laugh again, which was becoming very irritable, boiling something in his blood.

"Our God has all-seeing eyes. Remember that." He gloated.

Doug didn't bother explaining to Lydia what a camera was. He hope she assumed it was some kind of Daedric Artifact.

"Look at you all, we're back together again. As a family. A dysfunctional, brain damaged, stupid, family. But still a family. Unfortunately we are still missing some brothers and sisters. I already have search parties across the surface looking for them."

Doug saw a camera lingering on the nearby wall and glared at it. He wasn't ready to put up her bullshit again.

"Daedra! I order you release my Thane right now!" Lydia yelled, surprising Doug and causing Wheatley to jump. Doug himself pulled on Lydia's arm to get her to look at him as he shook his head and mouthed the word no to her.

"Daedra? Oh...one of those things. They're terrible test subjects. Also they're not scientifically advocating as I am. I do not like people who do not enjoy science." She said.

"But I am glad you are here Ratman. And I see you got rid of that murderous cube. I told you to never have trusted it. Had I not told you never to trust the Weighted Companion Cube. Because I specifically remember telling you that."

Doug heard Lydia step away from him, aiming the tip of her blade at him. His eye was drawn across the surface of the sword that led to her prying, bewildered and slightly afraid eyes. He could tell she was trying to be composed about it, but it confused her so much. Doug lifted his hands in self defense.

"What haven't you told me or my Thane?" She asked aggressively, turning her body sideways and straightening her arm out.

Doug swallowed. "Lydia...no one asked me anything if it wasn't related to their problem. Because none of that was even relevant when I arrived. I thought I was going to be free of my past and live a new life. But...it looks like a train ride that stops at all stations."

Doug heard her laugh, sending chills down his spine. He'd evaded her before, but not this time.

"I also read your riddles and insane ramblings. I have to agree with you though. Smooth Jazz isn't the exact tune you want to hear in your time here. I find music to be very distracting."

Wheatley stood back, hoping to flee from the room while no one was watching. He turned around to run, bumping into a Dwemer armored Nord, glaring down a him with dirty teeth.

"And you...you insipid tumor. There you were, drifting off into deep space and coincidentally you find yourself within your worst nightmares. Coincidentally, I do not believe in coincidences."

Wheatley shuddered, popping a few unimportant bolts and sparking by accident. "Look, look, we can talk about like two, sensible people and uh..."

He felt a jolt into his back vent, making him yelp.

"I had made a protocol that if any robots or cores that do not abide by the rules and regulations, they would be sent to the one room that everybody loves..."

Wheatley's optic darted around as fumbled with his fingers. "Um...a happy place with sunshine and rainbows perhaps?" He said sheepishly.

Doug was disturbed by the ten seconds of silence as he anticipated a no. When she finally answered, it sent waves of cold down his spine.

"Yes...you will have all the sunshine and rainbows...you will be so happy. With all your friends screaming at you. What better place is there to be for rewarding your incompetence and near-total devastation to my facility..."

Wheatley gulped. "I, uhh... thought as much."

Doug didn't realize behind him and Lydia stood several more Dwemer-Armored Nords, wielding Silver Swords. Galar switched his warhammer for his own and grinned as he turned to the Dragonborn, who was looking at Doug the entire time, until she caught the brute's glance. She was still breathing heavily and attempting to scream at him underneath the cloth, nothing coming out of it but mumbles. The electric needles were still on standby, arching over her to prevent her from getting up.

Doug couldn't think of a plan to get out of this. It seemed them both were all stuck and hopeless. Lydia nodded to the Dragonborn, mouthing words to each other like it was some kind of secret way they communicated to each other. The Dragonborn looked down at her feet after they were done.

"I've just constructed a test for you all. You will be escorted into the next room."

With their eager blades, the Silver-Hand, who appeared to be more Gold-Hands according to Wheatley, lined up the three and walked them through the door. Doug held a quick transmission with the Dragonborn who held the painful stare with unsure qualities. Even with that brief moment he could feel the sadness behind the rage, now that he understood. What she was going to do with them was anyone's guess, and hoped Lydia had her plan ready. He was, however, baffled as to why they hadn't confiscated their belongings. Lydia slowed down considerably in front of Doug once they were through the door and had entered a tight walkway, heading back down the black tile route. She'd touched his hands, his eyes lowering for a moment to see she was carrying a bag. He bit his lip and checked their heads, biting his lip before taking the brown satchel and placing it slowly and nonchalantly into his bigger bag. He wanted to take a peak but knew he didn't have time as he saw a lighter area ahead. Another door slid open. Wheatley was being stubborn about it, although he was thoughtless about the entire ordeal as the Nords shoved him to keep the line moving. He berated them for doing so, before cursing. Doug would have been amused, if they weren't going to die at any given time.

The next Chamber held a combination of white and black tiles in a non-patterned manner. He could see a ledge on the left side, unreachable and unclimbable due to it's sheer height. A blue dotted line spread from that to a blue square with an x on it, sitting next to the far door. On the very right, behind a screen was a large red button, having it's own blue dotted line that did the same. Another ran the roof from the back door, all the way to the middle of the room. He heard the door slide behind him. The three of them were locked alone in the Test Chamber.

"Oh God...we're gonna test!" Wheatley squealed. "I don't wanna do this. Not again."

Lydia held her sword close and looked around. "You know now would be a perfect time to explain what in Mundus is going on here? I don't want certain death to be our only option here."

Lydia had a point. Doug sighed. Just as he had once had no idea about what the land of Skyrim entailed, now she was a foreigner in a strange land. Two different worlds. Science and Magic should never mix.

"Just follow my lead. Remember Galar said that we can't use magic since somehow they've gotten rid of the airflow. So no hurting ourselves. Especially you Wheatley." Doug explained.

Wheatley turned to him. "What? Who says I'm going to hurt myself?"

Doug rolled his eyes. "Okay, the premise is simpler than the execution." He said to Lydia.

"We use problem solving in these Test Chambers. We solve the tests, then move forward through the doors."

Lydia nodded. "I understand. So what do we do in here? The problems obviously that door over there. How do we open it?"

Doug checked out the buttons and the dotted lines and pointed towards each of them. "See those buttons? They have a long name, but for now just call them buttons."

Doug was used to bypassing the tests on his own by adjusting either old pistons or reprogramming the robotic arms to his whim, allowing him to get through outside of the walls. This time, she, was making sure everything was taken care of. As well as having cargo along for the ride. They needed communicate things thoroughly if they were ever to survive...and save the Dragonborn.

Wheatley wandered around, looking at the button surrounded by glass panels.

"Oh uh...Douggy. How we going to get to this one if it's sealed?" He asked, pointing towards it.

Lydia's eye trained to the one on top of the ledge.

"There's one up here to." She announced. "But I can't reach it."

They both walked back to Doug, wondering if he had any bright ideas. He thumbed his lip, his face contorting into a stiff, scientist mode. Lydia, in the meanwhile, sheathed her sword, aware of the lack of threatening objects in the room. He wish he could have the portal gun, he really did. Or Chell's presence, for that matter. Any help from her would be fantastic.

He stared at the button in the middle for a while, then looked at the dotted lines. He looked at Wheatley, who tilted his core head to the side.

"Wheatley...I want you to stand on that button over there." He ordered.

The Core nodded and walked over to it. He wasn't sure what would happen when he would step on it, given it an eyeful before leaping on top of it. He almost lost his balance as it quickly sunk down. The blue dotted line turned yellow, and a tick replaced the cross on the square. Doug heard hydraulics and machinery, removing the glass panels and leaving the red button free to be pressed.

"Lydia..." He said. He didn't have to say anything more since he gathered she would have more common sense than Wheatley would.

"Got it." She replied firmly, going over to press her feet down on the button.

One left.

Doug looked over to the far ledge, tilting his head as he walked over. He ordered the others to stay where they were, hushing over to check the corner out. As Lydia was now firm on the button, he witnessed a lift descending downwards. Doug nodded, now understanding the concept and solution to this test. Hopefully most of it anyway.

Once the lift was on the ground, Doug rested his feet on it. He looked over to Lydia, who seemed fascinated and in awe of the giant red thing underneath her, wondering if this was a strange type of magic she'd never seen before. Doug knew it was just work of the maddest woman he knew. He called out to her to get off the button. She complied and hopped off. The lift started ascending at the same pass it lowered itself with. He turned away from Wheatley and Lydia, the former staring around the chamber, seeing of there was anything remotely liable to stare at.

Once at the top, Doug wasted no time in placing himself upon the button. He called Lydia to stand on the button again, this time opening the door. Doug rushed back to the lift panel before it slid down again. He was growing anxious on the way back down. He gave the nod to confirm the pair that they could get off the buttons now. They all froze as another beeping noise sounded through out the chamber.

"Very good." She said. "I'm impressed. This test was originally designed with the Portal Device in mind. But the three of you have exceeded my expectations under the duty when the initiative only has room for two. But we can deal about that later. Please proceed to the next test chamber."

Lydia halted when they had come across a strange, aqua coloured water like screen that held a odd glow and made humming noises. She turned to Doug. He knew she was going to pine to him about it. He walked through it, as did Wheatley, showing the housecarl it was safe to walk through. With her stern manner, she went passed with no problem at all. Doug was preparing to answer a lot of questions out of this if they made it out alive...

They navigated their way through a series of walkways to the upcoming chamber. Wheatley stopped to think, with Doug noticing a lack of extra footsteps behind him. He turned to the core who walked forward, keeping his optic trained to the floor and accidentally bumping into Doug himself.

"Everything alright?" He asked him.

Wheatley fumbled. "Nothing really. It just reminds me so much of the...never mind. It's not important. What is important is that we have to figure out to get ourselves out of here."

Doug nodded. He leaned against the wall and indicated that they would need to reassess their situation. Lydia crossed her arms rested her back on the adjacent wall.

"What I want to know is, how many of these are there? If she wants us to complete these...tests, there has to be a limit to them."

Doug nodded, then his eyes fell he scratched his chin. "There is, as you say. However, they get more and more dangerous as they progress."

Wheatley nodded. "Yes. An increase in difficulty. Though we know one who would solve them without delay, hesitation and simply would not panic what so ever. If she was here would be following her plan."

Doug twitched his nose. "We don't have her so we have to work together as a team. But I'm more concerned about what she mentioned about the way she talked about dealing with the dilemma of three people, when the maximum allowed is two."

Lydia rose an eyebrow. "You don't think she's going to kill one of us do you?"

Wheatley shirked. "I can't say that's not out of the question. It's not like she's never killed anything before. Or anyone, for the record."

Lydia grumbled and scrunched her face. Doug sensed her ire and desire to be let in on the loop. It did require a bit more proper explanation. He decided to use the current window of opportunity to explain it in a bit more detail.

"The God...or Daedra, isn't either. Her name is GlaDOS. She's an artificial intelligence system. She's...uhh...its' complicated."

Wheatley agreed. "So she's like me, for example. Except she's not as handsome."

Doug ignored him as he looked at the increasingly annoyed Lydia. Other than the thought-to-be-deception betrayal like hurt she experienced before. He wonder if she began to feel like he did when he came to this land months ago. She took a deep breath before confronting both of them, then became fixated on Wheatley.

"So she's like Wheatley here? Does she have any...special powers? Her magic seemed extremely advanced, even more so than the technology that the Dwemer possess." She said.

Doug noticed that the Silver-Hand had access to Dwemer technology as well as original Aperture technology. If GlaDOS had access to both, it could spell out deep trouble for the lot of them. Her powers were not unlike magic, except it was real. No magicka spent, just highly advanced gadgets that resembled it. She had somehow recruited the Silver-Hand to her cause. But how and why was a big question to ask, the answer most likely a lot more detailed.

"I can't say for sure. But don't be too surprised if there's magic involved. Just be...just be yourself." Doug mentioned.

Lydia nodded. "Okay. So what's our next move?"

The three settled to do the tests for now. In Doug's experience, if there was a flaw in the test chamber that he recognized he would be up to the task of exploiting it. GlaDOS continued to accustom the test chambers to adjust for three test subjects. Doug's leadership qualities were explored in many ways he wasn't used to, as was Wheatley. Where Doug had lacked, the core picked up the slack in his own, sometimes wrong, suggestions. But if they were incorrect, they weren't entirely, leading Doug to use the data Wheatley had given him and correlate it to another idea.

They pressed buttons, used lifts and solved her puzzles, nicked of whirled their way through the test chambers in hours. Lydia was slowly getting used to the concepts and occasionally tipped in a few words. She was a tough woman, not losing her patience. She had her Thane on her mind, meaning at the end of it all, she could finally see her again. Doug abided by that same linear loyalty. And stuck to it.

Wheatley counted seven tests in all. GlaDOS was being her usual, snarky self that made the core wonder if he ever left the facility at all. The only difference was the lack of a Portal Gun. In of the chambers, GlaDOS took note of Wheatley's ATLAS frame and made a reference to the two robots, one, the actual ATLAS, and the other, P-Body in that they were already doing their own tests with their Portal Guns. Apparently she wanted to test without it, compiling a list of studies surrounding the effects of not using Portals to solve problems. Lydia, of course, had no idea what they were on about and thought they were referring to jumping into different realms. Doug left it at that.

Eventually through mutual trust, determination and cooperation, they made it to the walk way to the next Test Chamber, namely Chamber 10. All of them were exhausted and hungry, having to spend hours in solving the more discorded puzzles. Doug sat down and took his gauntlets off, placing them beside him as he rubbed the frustration and perspiration off his face. She was ruthless as usual and to be expected. Wheatley was slightly more dinted, having being the one having to use the Aerial Faith Plates and half the time whacking himself on the tiles. Doug had grown to stop whincing every moment it occurred, having gotten used to it.

If Lydia was tired, she wasn't showing it. Nords had the endurance of a horse. They could keep going until their feet dropped off. She was raring to keep going through the next series of chambers as she stood firm, hands to her hips and disappointed in the pair. Wheatley wasn't exhausted physically, for obvious reasons, but was mentally tired of the running around, needing the slight cool down to get his circuits in order. To Aperture, his frame was crude but rather sturdy so far, but that wasn't the problem.

"I'm wondering if we'll ever the reach the end, if I'm honest." He mentioned, quite jaded.

Doug lifted his head. "There's always an end. Wheatley. Going to be no cake though, as per the quotations."

Wheatley shrugged. "Heh...those stupid promises of cake. I mean, humans like cake, but she could have offered loads of other stuff, like Ice Cream, uh...Apples...even Goldfish."

Doug looked apathetic at the core. "Goldfish? Goldfish are pets. Not food."

Wheatley stumbled. "Oh...of course they are. Which makes them great rewards."

Doug forced himself back up. He theorized GlaDOS hadn't either processed enough adrenal vapor or he was just like Wheatley in the nature of his mind playing tricks and telling him he was supposed to be tired. Looking around the darkened walkway, he could see something odd about one of the nearby black tiles. He put his gauntlets back on and crawled over to have a closer look at it. It had white ink scrawled about it, in the form of barely legible text.

"Red Riding Hood + Big Bad Wolf ahead." He read. Doug browed as he tried to figure out what that meant. He felt his bag, spiking his memory of Lydia giving him a small brown bag.

"Hey, what was this you gave me before?" He asked taking the bag out.

Lydia blinked, giving Doug a blank stare. "I was going to let you do something back at Breezehome, but we ran out of time. When I heard the Dragonborn had been captured by the Silver-Hand, I knew it wasn't going to look good on her end. I'm prepared to get a shouting session once she learns I've gone through her belongings, but I couldn't leave without it."

He scrambled through the ingredients through the back, smelling the scent of Lavender before finding the purple coloured plant within. His face contorted as he understood what she was doing.

"These are the ingredients to the perfume." He announced in a slight whisper.

"But how will this help us?"

Lydia stood up straighter as she adjusted herself. "I'm praying that my fears are unfounded, but it looks like we'll have no choice."

Wheatley narrowed his optics. "No choice for what?"

She looked at the bot empathetically. "Remember what Galar said about how an unwilling transformation is harder to control?"

Doug tilted his head. He was more intrigued with the origins of the transforming concept. Willing and unwilling, control and the lack of thereof. What she could warp herself into was the key note. Was this part of being a Dragonborn?

"Is he trying to turn DB into an actual Dragon? Can you do that?" Wheatley inquired.

Lydia shook her head. "No...it's not as noble as you think. I don't think you two shoul-"

They stopped in their tracks as a few beeping noises.

"Looks like we'll have to postpone the next test for the moment. I'm sorry about that, I know you all are eager to test, but unfortunately a test chamber operative non-scientist personnel of ours has been cut off course. We will let you know when we're ready. Sit tight." GlaDOS announced, the last two words sounding a little bit more suggestive than was acceptably comfortable.

Doug had a very bad feeling about this. But it least it gave them more time. He got up and walked around, searching for any space so he can begin his work on hacking into the panel robotic arms network. He saw the door to the 10th Chamber and brushed passed it for the moment, whilst running his fingers over the tile edges, hoping to see any sort of unorganized plate sitting there, reading to pull at.

All heads flung to the Chamber door as a loud clank was heard. Doug and Wheatley gulped in unison as they heard roars and screams in the next room. What ever it was, Doug was not looking forward to heading in there. Lydia crouched and walked to the door itself, placing her ear against it, wondering what in Mundus was going on there. She heard sounds of a struggle, swords smacking aimlessly against a hard floor. A heavy battle was taking place in there, sounding like they were having trouble restraining a ferocious beast within. She heard angry voices and dog-related taunts and stood back. Her breath jittered as her fingers contracted.

"Lydia..." Doug muttered.

Lydia squeezed her eyes closed. "There's...something you should know...about the Dragonborn..."

Another clank on the chamber door made them jump and Wheatley almost fall over in surprise.

"She's..."

Another beeping sound.

"Sorry about that. The next chamber will be ready in thirty seconds. Don't mind the mess in there. It's about to get even messier with the next test. Which, obviously I will clean up. It's an absolute murder to get stains off white. Don't worry, I have plenty of bleach."

Lydia stood back as Doug went to her side, Wheatley clinging on to her leg like a monkey as she pulled out her sword. Sooner than later, the door sheathed itself open, a bright light pouring down the entrance. Lydia kept her blade close as the three prepared themselves as they walked into the 10th Chamber...

Another mixture of white and black tiles spread across in a randomized pattern, this chamber had the strange green, liquidity texture walk-through wall, with what had Doug at one point explained to Lydia was an emancipation grill, the size of two normal heighted double doors, and beside them glass windows and walls to the ceiling. Beyond them was several tiles high ceiling part of the chamber which the white and black panels had been scratched and stained with blood. Doug watched as a leg was swept away into the walls and disappeared. To Doug's astonishment, the Dragonborn stood in the middle of the chamber, hands tied behind her back and surrounded with her own glass panels that had been activated from the floor and bent down from above, preventing her escape. To the left side of the chamber was a white pole with a small red button on top of it, with the blue dotted line leading towards a large tube that Doug described as the Vital Apparatus Vent, which was holding a Weighted Storage Cube that was located the closest to their apparent position.

The Dragonborn looked just as pissed as she did before. Her knees pointed inwards as she shook with rage, seeing Doug and the others behind the window. She nudged her head to the right side, aiming at the right part of the chamber, where another button was located. Again, like the first chamber, was on unreachable ledge. This time, there was no lift to allow anyone to get up there, nor were there any Hard Light Bridges or Aerial Faith Plates.

Another button lay in the back right corner, seen through a window, into another room protected by an emancipation grill. For some reason, he had a bad feel about that button in general, but couldn't place why.

The final button was located on a separate raised platform towards the back of the chamber where the roof was a lot higher and covered with white panels. Doug struggled and shuffled about to try and see what was on top of it, but it appeared to be yet another button. He couldn't see where it connected to, but judged it had to do something. His train of thought was interrupting by the casual beeps.

"When I mentioned that I would solve the overpopulated chambers problem before, I meant I would do it maximum amount of test chambers in a room is two. Anymore is too many. And too many is a disaster waiting to happen. So this test is to see which two will succeed in their upcoming triumphs. And the one who fails, will be taken out of the test chambers. In this case, since I have so many test subjects right now, I will be forced to apply the neurotoxin to all of you should you all not follow the testing protocols."

Doug do not like the sound of that all. She didn't speak about, nor would she, but he had the biggest hunch about it. The Dragonborn's breathing was tense and a moderate but heavy pace. Their first move was to bolt through the emancipation grill and run towards the glass panels encasing the Dragonborn.

"Hey!" Said Doug, a smile screening his face as he pressed his hands on the glass.

"We're gonna get you out of here."

Her head was slouched over as her one eye locked on to his own. She looked far terrible up close than to what he had seen of her before. She scrunched her eyes and broke contact. Doug frowned.

"No need to be upset about it. Look, we have Lydia. So I'm not going to die. We've gotten through all the other chambers just fine. I can prove my worth to you in a field I have plenty of invested experience in."

She looked over her shoulder to him, then to Lydia who came across and waved to her Thane.

"To Death, my Thane." She called out.

He was hoping that would bring some kind of positive reaction to seeing them there, but he had a feeling that just made it all worse. He turned around and checked out the entire chamber.

He quickly assessed what needed to be done and discovered the button on top of the platform activated the glass panels in a way. The Dragonborn watched him the entire time while he stroked his beard and whispered to himself, pointing and waving his finger about, whilst attempting to straighten her back out as she stood, but found herself in a near-permanent slump. Wheatley looked at her with concern.

"Um...just. Don't move. Douggy is extraordinary when he solves these tests. It's as if he designed them himself." He said, unwary if this was going to help her at all.

She walked over to Wheatley with giant slapping steps and etched her glare deep into his optic, frightening him a little. She had mentally sent a shock similar to a shiver down his circuits. She pushed her cheek up against the panel to hold herself up. Wheatley squinted his shutters.

"Don't know what you're trying to tell me love. I'm normally pretty good at reading non-verbal conversations. Trust me, I've done it before."

The Dragonborn soon turned her attention to Lydia. They had a connection of understanding that their communication was simply wordless vibes emitting from each other, almost telepathic in nature. Lydia turned away, finishing their silent talk. She was not looking forward to the inevitable.

Doug ordered Wheatley to press the the button for the Cube to fall out. With glee, the bot trumped over and gladly pressed it, the cube falling out and onto the floor. Wheatley looked around, wondering where it was supposed to go. Doug checked out the button behind the emancipation grill, stopping as he heard the Dragonborn throwing herself against the glass, screaming behind her 'muzzle' as they called it. Lydia walked over, kneeling down beside her. Doug couldn't see what they were talking about, only for Lydia to nod in a kind of unknown agreement, as Lydia came to Doug and snatched his arm, bringing him to the protection of the room. Wheatley went to go follow with the Cube, before Doug reminded him of the grill.

Wheatley was inches before it when he screeched to a halt. He laughed sheepishly as he carried the cube, still wondering what it was for. The sphere did a 360 sideways, still checking the room out. Doug meanwhile, was curious to what the button in their room activated. In the bout of his troubled mind, he jumped on top of it. He looked out the window, seeing the glass panels folding back into the floor. Doug smiled.

Wheatley turned to the Dragonborn upon hearing the robotic arms grinding against each other as the panels folded. He put the cube down and waved to her, then turned to the raised platform, which now had a set of stairs leading to the top of it. Wheatley was torn to either greeting the Dragonborn or to press the button. He shrugged and walked over to the Dragonborn anyway, with the full intention of freeing her from her bindings.

His hands reached for the back of the muzzle, only for the Dragonborn to jump back. Something was wrong. Her posture and manner was very primal, animalistic even in her highly defensive crouch, long legs bent and body bunched over. She was very jumpy who could attack at the flick of a switch. Wheatley saw she was shaking violently, scanning the cuts and bruises on her, according to his sources, very amazonian body. He could pick out the sadness in her eyes, but his dense brain wouldn't process the anomalies properly.

"Hold still love, let me cut you loose...you know it's your pal Wheatley!" He said, genuinely so.

"No need to get all edgy. It's DB isn't it. You don't like me calling you that."

She shook her head and crept backwards, backing away from the walking core. Doug watched from a distance, browing at her unusual behaviour.

"She's traumatized." He said to Lydia. He scowled, anger rising. "How could they do this to her? Just because she's the Dragonborn AND the Harbinger, they think they have leverage against the entirery of Skyrim. What are they trying to do? And the way they treat her as some kind of animal. It's deplorable."

Lydia sighed. "It's not because she's either Doug." She said with pity. "It's something else."

Doug looked at her. "You're still hiding it from me. Why have they captured her then if it's not because of her abilities as Dragonborn? They have blocked her ability to use the Dragon Shouts by muffling her mouth haven't they? What else is there?"

Lydia looked back to the Dragonborn, who looked like she was having a false stalemate with a very stunned and baffled Wheatley. They watched as he kept trying to get closer to her, only for the Dragonborn to crawl in the opposite direction.

"Please love. I swear, I'm not going to hurt you. You have to trust me on this. Okay, maybe you don't have to trust me, but I am going try at least. Just turn around so you don't have to see me doing it. That way, you eventually discover that, you have somehow untied yourself, giving you loads of self-confidence to get the hell out of here. What do you say?"

A cue snapped in Doug. Wheatley wasn't an intimidating individual by a long shot. Stupid as he was, he couldn't hurt anyone on purpose. That wasn't the problem. The way the Dragonborn was standing and shaking, the contours of her face displayed open fear not for Wheatley, but for herself.

Doug had read up on the Silver Hand. Brutes that only hated one thing. Werewolves. They'd aligned themselves with GlaDOS who had taken it upon herself to pretend she was a God, considering in this day and age, most people believed in Gods, in their nature and religousness to do so. He'd looked up that Oblivion Incident as well, that had occurred over 200 years ago. A lot of books described the devastation caused by a Daedric Prince known as Mehrunes Dagon and how he almost destroyed the entire continent of Tamriel.

Regardless of Doug's Atheism, a lot of the books described the Gods surrounding this area were slowly convincing him of a higher power in order. Either that, or this was the worst hallucination scene period. But it was awfully real. Pain, anguish in the highest degree that only reality could ever offer. And the Dragonborn herself had proven her own supernatural, superhuman strengths Doug would only read in great fantasies. He looked at solid form, once sturdy but clearly on her last hinges of sanity, if she ever had it. He didn't mind, he was the same.

But in her manner of concern, that she didn't want Wheatley to do it because from the look in her eyes, he could tell that she would attack against her will. Was GlaDOS using mind control devices now? No. It wasn't that. Though the possibility was there, Doug felt the Dragonborn was far too strong willed and completely stubborn to even let them do that to her.

"Love...I just want to hear you speak, not be...not be a cliché if you can understand what I mean. No, no she doesn't. You don't know who I'm talking about but that's who I don't you to be at this time. If...you get it...of course."

The Dragonborn slid her herself against the wall, sitting herself down and using her feet to defend herself. She tried to calm herself down as she stared at the cube, then looked at Wheatley. She then flung up back to her feet, stunning Wheatley as she charged at it, trying to pick it up with her feet first, then donging it on her head, carrying it there as she wanted to push it up towards the unreachable ledge.

"Oh! That's what we have to do?" Wheatley said with sudden realization. "That's brilliant love...I'm guessing that's what the other button is for...hang on a tic, just let me go press it..."

Lydia's eyes widened as Wheatley climbed the steps in the session of his own genius.

"WHEATLEY NO!"

She pulled Doug off the button he was on, trying to lower the steps that Wheatley was climbing, but by then it was too late – He was already on the button.

A soft click that followed, ensured oncoming madness. Several roof panels flipped over, revealing red flashing lights and a sirens that almost deafened Doug and Lydia. Several middle wall panels flipped also, demonstrating exhaust like pipes, spewing out a green gas. Doug became very anxious.

"No...nonononono..." Doug muttered to himself, shaking his head as he grabbed the back of the wall. Lydia looked at him strangely.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

Doug's bottom lip quivered. He could barely stand. "Damn it...that's neurotoxin. We're all going to be dead in five minutes if we leave this room."

Lydia looked out the window. "Is that anything like a disease? My Thane will be fine...I don't know about us though."

Doug struggled to get up, slamming his hand on the window pane, getting his grip.

"This window is sealed tight, and the Emancipation Grill will protect us from the gas...and if you haven't guessed already, Wheatley is a robot. He doesn't have a brain nor lungs so he can't inhale anything. He's not organic."

He sighed as his head slumped. "How can you be so sure that she's going to be fine? I have seen with my own two eyes people die because what this gas can do."

Lydia gave Doug a straight face. "I think we're about to see why. Also, I have a feeling your answer to a previous question will be answered."

Doug looked out the window. Wheatley was too dumbstruck as he stood on top of the platform button. His optic was on the Dragonborn, who's body was thrashing wildly, bluntly screaming from underneath her muzzle. Doug was about to run out and attempt to save her himself, before Lydia raised her arm to prevent him from doing so.

"What are you doing?" He yelled. "We have five minutes okay? Five minutes? You know what neurotoxin even does? It effects communications of neurons across synapses! Greatly inhibiting neurological function, impairing your central nervous system until your body just stops working all together!"

Lydia glared at him. "Again with the dialect problems here. My Thane is capable of taking it."

Doug was seething at Lydia's ignorance. "How can you prove it? No one, not one human has withstood it. I barely survived the first time it was cast out. LOOK AT WHAT IT DID TO ME!"

Lydia closed her eyes and clamped her fingers around Doug's chin and smashed it against the window.

"Will you shut up for one second and just look!"


Dougs cheek rubbed up the window before Lydia let go of him, allowing him to stabilize and have a glimpse of the events occurring outside. The Dragonborn looked like she was going to pop out of her skin with the way she was acting. She whacked her head against the wall, being annoyed by both the sirens and the neurotoxin. Her skin was slowly turning grey, her eyes turning black. Doug hadn't seen this kind of neurotoxin effect before, the process extremely painful and agonizing. The Dragonborn had fallen to her side as Wheatley was still stuck in place, crying out about the noise and the neurotoxin, unable to do anything.

Doug examined her skin, seeing fading in out of the cream colour it once was, towards a charcoal colour, darker than the grey she wore just before, a dark, otherworldly wisp glow scaling around her body. She grunted and screamed, her body twisting and contorting into a more leaner and grotesque form. Her face warped, the nose and mouth extending and molding into snout, her hair shortening to fur length. She broke out of her confinement, not to mention her bra and panties, her arms whipping back and forth, scaling her fingers into skinny claws. Her legs bent out of shape, her feet forming into long paws. She had rolled over into a ball, with a tail popping out of her lower back, making a sickening snapping in the meanwhile. The whole ordeal was incredibly excruciating, not to mention quite harrowing to watch.

Doug's mouth was gaping, not believing what he was witnessing. The sirens suddenly stopped as the Dragonborn, or what it was, now laying in a fetal position on the floor, the neurotoxin pipes withdrawing back into the walls with the lights. For a moment, everything went still.

Wheatley managed to calm himself down, albeit in his brief trial of freaking out. His optic whirled around, seeing everything had stopped. He relaxed for a moment and was about to walk off the platform, before seeing a monstrous creature laying on the ground before him.

"Oh...Oh God what is that?" He sparked.

Doug gulped as he shook with fear, as he scrutinized Lydia for a probable explanation. She did not look afraid of what the hell the Dragonborn had become, but instead held an probable grace.

"The...neurotoxin...she reacted to it like a violent disease." She whispered.

Doug dropped to hide his knees under his chest as he peered through the window. The Dragonborn stirred, her head adjusting itself slightly. She got up off the floor and stared at the wall. Her body was far less human now, and more...wolfish...

Doug's eyes widened even further.

"This is why the Silver Hand despise her." Lydia muttered.

"She's part of everything they oppose. They don't discriminate on gender, race or importance. If you're...a beast, they won't hesitate to kill you in unimaginable ways."

Doug eyed the housecarl. "I...uh. Want to know."

Lydia glanced at the scientist. "What?"

The man licked the sweat off his lips. "If she will recognize us...maybe there's a chance she won't attack us?"

Lydia lifted her chin up. "Can't say I've ever been in this situation before. My Thane trusted me enough to confide her status with me."

Doug rose a skeptic eyebrow. He didn't have to say anything before she groaned slightly.

"Alright, alright...I've noticed her a few times heading outside in the middle of the night. I used to hear her, and I've caught her sneaking out. I asked her if she needed help with anything, she just said she was heading to Jorrvaskr. I understood the part where she was a Harbinger but it was always in the darkest hours of the morning. She'd come back in the daylight or an hour before sunrise, smelling like..."

"Wet dog..." Doug continued.

Lydia nodded. "Exactly. I wasn't going to say anything about it originally, since I have no say in my Thane's activities. I had sworn an oath to protect her and all that she owns. Now I've actually witnessed her transformation...proof about my original assumptions."

Doug pursed his lips briefly, before scratching his chin. She had a point though. He had seen the Dragonborn heading off to Jorrvaskr on those dark, cold nights where he was unable to sleep due to anxiety. The scent of her hair was the biggest give away, and he didn't even see it, when he should of. It was right in front of him. Why wasn't his hunch churning away at it, like it did normally?

"What are you going to do now? Does this fit under any neat little category of yours?" He asked. A striking question.

They watched as the Dragonborn stood there in her gangly, lean wolven form, her pants subsiding with her timid body movement. She was frozen for the little moment, before Wheatley intervened.

"My God, would you look at that? Are wolves supposed to look that like? I don't recall them standing on their hind legs, looking all humanish and stuffy. I mean, that has to be the ugliest thing I have ever seen..."

The Dragonborns head snapped towards Wheatley, gritting her razor sharp teeth as drool poured from her mouth, her pointy ears bending back. Wheatley sparked as her blood red eyes encapsulated him, looking brutal, hungry for blood. Wheatley soon regretted his words and started to walk backwards.

"Ooh...sorry it's you love! I-I uh...will retract my earlier statement about your apparent ugliness. You are certainly not ugly at all! Umm...You know what though, out of all the wolves I have seen...you, by far and no joke, are the prettiest. I'm being honest here! You are absolutely, positively, shining with brilliance and perfection. Uh...um...and those legs! LOOK at those legs? If they're not great for cross-trek running, they would definitely be better at hunting down your precious prey...No prey that looks like me of course. Maybe bunny rabbits, foxes...those sort of small, tiny, non-Wheatley look-a-likes."

Doug facepalmed. Only Wheatley could bury himself further, that he could reach the center of the Earth from where he was going with this. The Dragonborn lingered closer to the platform, her fierce gaze making Wheatley babble on further, unaware his legs were heading to the edge.

"Oh and another...ARGH!"

The bot crashed to the floor, the Dragonborn picking up great speed to run around it and attempt to swipe him, only for Lydia in her split second reaction to come running out of the protective room and pulled him out of the way, the Dragon having leaped up into the air, then collided with the floor, her claws screeching as they scratched across the surface. She stood on all fours then turned around to face Lydia with her blade.

"I know what you want my Thane. As your housecarl; I have given my promise."

The Thane and the Housecarl circled around each other, an action so full of heat and energy of a thousand suns. Two warriors, one of fang and claw, and the other, armed with a steel sword. They glanced at nothing else but themselves. Lydia had sensed the Dragonborns prior knowledge of the Beast Blood, as well as Doug finally revolving around her bodies cellular structure, on how her biological form gave way to it's subconscious defensive mechanisms, making the inevitable transformation.

It was a stalemate between the pair, that burned on with each given moment. The Dragonborn growled under the influence, her top lip rippling from the vibrations, an unholy scowl in primal pain. Her claws were very tense, her body in a constant pounce. She sheathed and unsheathed at a variable pace. Lydia matched her breathing sequence, as Doug observed from afar.

He could synthesize her state from those crimson balls as they nearly popped out of her skull, a vortex of pure malice and desire to kill skimming the surface. He tried hard to see if there was any piece of her left in there, fighting to control herself. She'd failed to restrain herself due to the body's reaction to the Neurotoxin, but if there was a shrapnel of herself left in there, she would be pushing herself to bring herself back to the steering wheel. Doug became deep in scripting to help her escape from herself. But how, he had no idea.

The circling continued, with neither giving way to the other. Minutes dragged into the next in the deathly stillness of the room. The air conditioning must have had some kind of odourless component, given the amount of blood stains on the walls and maybe, if what he had seen earlier was proof enough, dead bodies piling up underneath. He was fully intent of not joining. So staying alive would be the priority.

Wheatley's knee joints quivered, optic flinging left to right between the parlaying pair. It was excruciating to watch. This was far scarier than floating in space itself. He muttered to himself as he then glanced at the floor, pretending to be more interested in solving the test itself. Having a few thoughts, he looked at the Dragonborn, then at the Cube on the floor, then finally at the unreachable ledge. He was crazy for thinking about it, but it somehow involved her. Replaying his video files, he re-watched the footage of her trying to push the Cube up the ledge.

He raised his hands and fingers as he was beginning to head back to Doug.

"Okay, you lot stay there...I'm gonna have a word or two with Doug. I have this fantastic idea..."

Doug gritted his teeth, anxious for Wheatley to not do anything at all. Instead, the core had snuck his way back into the protected room with Doug and pulled on his robes. Doug's cheek twitched with an irritation as he wanted to focus on the women out there.

"Look! Douggy!" Wheatley cried out in a groaned whisper. "It's very important! I assure you on my very heart...and so on and so forth."

Doug bit his lip. "It's going to end up with us dying isn't it? I figured that on a long time ago."

Wheatley shook his head. "Uh...no...actually. I think, we still need to get up to that ledge up there. And the only way to do it, is somehow throw each other up there, with the Cube."

Doug browed, then looked at Wheatley. "What?"

Wheatley nodded, becoming very giddy. "I said it was an idea, not a fantastic one. And it's going to involve a hell of a lot of pitching people and maybe some mildly broken bones. I dunno, I dunno...it's um, needs a strength. A lot of power and thrust should do it."

Doug pouted in contemplation, then looked at Wheatley. For once, he had a good idea then did not involve stuff blowing up. They talked for a while as Lydia was stuck in the stand off with the Dragonborn. They had discussions that surprised Doug as Wheatley suggested they utilize the Dragonborns possible newborn strength. He detected a lot of muscle, as Doug recalled the shape of her limbs and bulges bubbling and expanding greatly or adjusting to a more bipedal wolf form.

"So you're going to be okay with..." Doug started, with a minor tone of disbelief.

Wheatley nodded. "Yes yes...you can make me another frame, I'm guessing. And don't say I'm brave cause I'm scared like no tomorrow. No wait, that didn't sound right..."

Doug rolled his eyes. "You know you can pull out any time?"

Wheatley laughed. "And miss the chance to be a hero? Naah mate. I'm good, I'm good."

Doug rubbed his forehead and sighed in sync with shrugging his shoulders. "Do it then."

Wheatley ran out of the safety confines of the space they had and waved over to the Dragonborn. This had to be the most moronic thing he had ever done. Other than take over Aperture of course.

"Hey! Hey! Wolf Lady! Over 'ere!" He called over, standing on his toes and stretching his robotic arm in the air as far as he could as he waved.

Both the Dragonborn and Lydia looked at Wheatley, confusion written all over their faces. No sooner than later that Wheatley regretted what he just did, but he had to keep trying. She wasn't a bird after all.

"LOOK, I apologize that, I was kind of in your personal space. That's cool, I'm totally cool about that. You know, there was hardly a time back at my old workplace where I had my own personal space. Something about the rent being too cheap to pass up...or something."

Lydia glared at Wheatley for being so stupid in what he was doing, even though she had guessed he was doing this on purpose by the overly-confident bravado he was carrying.

"If we could just work together for one second I can-"

The Dragonborn brushed against Lydia who back somersaulted to avoid collision, her sprint gaining speed quickly. Wheatley was about to quit unknowingly, before remembering his legs and heading back towards the unreachable ledge. The Werewolf skidded around the corner as she became hooked on her annoying little white mark. Wheatley pressed himself on the wall as she pressed herself down on all fours, her intention becoming as clear as day.

Wheatley sparked again, almost whimpering. He had his coolants and fans running overtime in his circuits. Yes. This was indeed the most moronic, stupid, idiotic, blockheaded, boneheaded, incompetent, numskulling idea. What it ever was though, Wheatley knew he had to do it.

He closed his optic and shielded his front by crossing his arms. He was full on expecting the worst.

Her claws clamored against the tiles at a fast rhythm. Her panting was very audible, then it was suddenly cut off by a unique type of gunfire he hadn't heard in months. His internal gyroscope went haywire, as if gravity was being altered. He felt something clasped on to him and the speedy flow of wind on his sensors. Was this part of the great collision?

It stopped with a minimal thud, followed by a unstirred environment. The strong grasp he once felt disappeared. Those spacely sounding gunfire noises repeated themselves three times and again, he heard the sound of loose hydraulics. Wheatley didn't feel any pain, so the pain had to be so severe that he would have died by now and he was being sent to the remnants of Android Hell, just like she said he would.

He dared to open his shutters slightly, seeing ninety-five percent black and five percent fire. Yup. Android Hell alright.

He heard Doug's mumbling from afar and staggering about, as well as Lydia, who hadn't need to do so. Wheatley blinked twice before permanently opening his optic fully.

There was a torch hanging from a stone wall, with a lot of crudely made Aperture signage across it. He looked at Doug, who had finally composed himself and full of shock. Lydia was slightly more attune but didn't look any less bewildered.

"Are we dead?"

Doug's eyes lit up as his mouth gaped, unable to saying as he and Lydia stood there, looking to the person behind Wheatley, wearing their tight leather clothing and hood, white boots and a very peculiar relic attached to her right arm. She pulled back the hood, revealing the still-faced woman underneath, with the blue-grey eyes. Wheatley turned around to check what they were looking at it.

"Oh...okay...I'm convinced. We are dead...so very very dead." Wheatley decided, then backtracked.

"Are we? Please tell me."

She rested her hand on Wheatley's shoulder and smiled, making the sphere very nervous. She gently pushed him out of her way then approached Doug and Lydia. Doug was a mess.

"Chell...either my eyes are decieving me...again...or it's really you." Doug said, nearly out of breath.

Chell nodded, giving a little supportive smile. Then browed at him as he disconnected their eye contact.

"Oh...we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Doug Rattmann. I will be happy to talk to you about everything once we sort this out...now.."

Chell looked surprised at his statement, as if grasping tonnes of information at once that she had once acquired. She caught Lydia's stare as she walked forward.

"I don't care who you are, but I'm grateful for you saving our lives. But what was that magic you used? I thought that Galar said the Magicka flow was sealed off."

Tension built in the room as they failed to avoid looking at each other. The connections between Doug and Chell were there, working like a paradox. The woman he'd helped raise above the rest and become a champion for his cause. He knew her without knowing her. She knew him without knowing him. Inside the traveling pair familiarity clicked, with Doug feeling like Wheatley as they were mentally wrecked with mixed emotions.

Chell ignored Lydia and turned towards a nearby window, overlooking the Test Chamber. The Dragonborn had been taken out, Chell getting a reactive instinct that forced her to confront everyone else. Wheatley shrunk before her stare. She had no time for speeches and instead ordered everyone to follow her.

Doug motioned the trust into the woman, having understood her complexities and putting his trust in her leadership. She ran into another rogue corridor, a catwalk leading through part of Mistwatch's old walkways, with lights darting the top corners in a serial dash fashion, with cables hooked and dangling from the roof. Chell clasped onto her device, keeping it close to her chest. Doug was behind her, believing Chell had come in her for a reason.

Another electronic door stood in there way. Chell stood before it, waiting for it to automatically open. The light that was originally green was now red. Doug grabbed Wheatley and worked their magic on the keypad. Wheatley's back was towards Doug, allowing him to glance at Chell, who seemed indifferent as usual. Those lips were straightened and still, her face as smooth as the day he last saw her. The Core worked up the attempt to speak to her again, his emotional urges telling him to keep apologizing. He couldn't. It was glitch in his programming that he assumed that prevented him from trying. Doug prevented him from assessing the problem as he connected cords to his back. He gave him three taps and muttered something along the lines of 'Ultraviolet flashlight'. Wheatley adjusted himself to do so, as Doug saw the numbers with the fingerprints. He typed quickly, with Wheatley on the receiving end and easily hacked through the doors.

"Ah brilliant, brilliant." He commented. "Wheatley, Hacker Extraordinaire, strikes again!"

Chell turned her head away as he mentioned that, and placed her hood back on her head. The door slid open, with everyone rushing inside before it could close again.

What ever this room was, it was stepping back into Skyrim, except for a few Aperture remnants such as the logo crudely sprayed on the walls and the fluorescent lighting. In the corner of the dungeon like area lay an Alchemy Table. Doug looked at the brown satchel that Lydia had given him and turned to her. Before he knew it, they were discussing the partials of making that Lavender Perfume. It had to be made a specific way, a unusual method in extracting and synthesizing the given ingredients. She watched Doug take extra care, his delicate fingers working down vials and giving his brain a much needed work out. The Lavender with it's potent scent filled the air, Chell lifting her head as she stood near the doorway with Wheatley, inhaling it.

The walking Core held his hands in front of him, making the best of a bad situation by staying silent for once. Chell said nothing and did nothing. Her clothes sent off signals. Wheatley ignored them and was trying his best not to stare at her. Instead he just looked forward at the closed electronic door in silence.

"How have you been?" He said, finally breaking the void.

"I've been good, actually. Douggy made this frame for me. It's the same but altered blueprint of the ATLAS Test robot. Adjusted for an actual core, and not a useless, heavily modified piece of junk. They have the brain a size of a pea."

Chell didn't respond. Wheatley expected that. She was elusive in communications. He was glad she hadn't changed. He was happy she was there. He'd thought he'd lost her. Lost Chell to...her.

Still, he was a wreck. With the crap surrounding Doug and the Dragonborn, he was busy being himself and his own unexplored ventures.

She heard the roof groan. She looked up to see it was supported by a type of flat metal. She went into a crouch and looked around. Wheatley reacted as well as you'd expect, by clinging on to her leg.

"Oh God what was that? That wasn't you was it?"

A howl echoed through the air-vents that spread from above the electronic door to the other side, a half-done job with bits of stone lying on the tables against the walls. It looked new. Didn't necessarily smell new but everything so far outside of the chambers was half-finished. The room shook for a moment, dust and small rocks fell from above. Lydia and Doug stopped what they were working on and looked up from the table, Doug becoming paranoid. Another howl echoed. More groaning of metal plates. They weren't alone.

"They're sending her through the vents?" Said Doug.

A loud bang at the door made them jump several metaphorical feet in the air. Several loud bangs succeeded that, with non-stop scratching that nearly pierced human ears.

"They've sent the other Werewolves after us." Lydia summarized. "But we have to keep going."

Wheatley grumbled, albeit still very frightened but slightly irritated.

"There is no other way to get out of this room...logically, other than that door there, where there could be hundreds...no probably too many to fit into those tiny walkways, maybe dozens of hairy, beastly things, just wanting to dig their fangs into us and turn us into them!"

Chell rose a small eyebrow at him. Doug lowered his eyelids with apathy.

"That's vampires Wheatley." He reminded.

Wheatley's optic opened wide with realization. "Oh...sorry, sorry. Of course, Vampires. They bite into the fragile human neck and suck out blood, then infect them with a kind of disease that turns them into...well, them. Their breeding population must exist of weird families."

They were distracted by the constant bashes that continued to shake the room. If they weren't careful, the entire room would collapse. Chell heard the rough wolf pants, full of lust for their blood. Wheatley tuned into to a sound akin to that of the howling, only it was more hollow. He failed to work out what it was. The howling wasn't coming from outside. They were barking abruptly more than anything. He started to tiptoe around the room as Lydia rushed Doug back to the Alchemy Table.

Doug himself was working as hard as he could. Put more of this sap into a round vial and pouring more of a homogenous liquid into another. The books he'd read had nothing compared to this kind of experimental perfume, only Lydia's piece of torn paper she'd pulled out of her armor. The handwriting was the Dragonborns, comparing that to the Diary he'd found in bedroom at Jorrvaskr. He was surprised to remember that, but it had a distinct wet wolf stench to it. Clearly hers.

He finished up with the last dot pointed instructions and shook the bottle up. The bag contained a miniature perfume bottle, where he poured the lavender liquid from the large beaker. He screwed the lid on tight, then looked to Lydia for further movements.

"Okay, the perfume is ready." He said with toned down confidence. "What do I do with it? You're not telling what it's actually for even after seeing you tell me originally with a millmeter of great importance."

Crash. Slash. BOOM.

Wheatley almost fell to the floor, yet again, his frame consistently unbalancing. Chell aimed the device at the door.

Lydia sighed and pulled out her sword again.

"The perfume is...an item of value to my Thane. You can't buy it in any shop. And it's said to have it's origins in Windhelm."

Doug nodded, having a keen interest in his latest creation. The perfume was sentimental to the Dragonborn. What he wanted to know was why she was adamant about it's use in this situation.

"I'll admit that, once I even suspected my Thane had lycanthropy, I had done a little research on my part, having committed my life to her." She continued. That sounded a bit odd to Doug but he regressed.

Doug had done a little bit of research himself. In the Dragonborns case, she had a different method of it. Most of the pictures he'd seen of the Werewolves were atypical to what the Dragonborn's form looked like. You could cure it, but as with animals in real life, lycanthropy had varied subsets and breeds, if you put it that way.

"I never encountered a werewolf before. I had this, image, in my head, that they would lose themselves. And what I was hoping for was that..."

Doug nodded. "I get what you mean. Don't worry. You know what? You thought right. You trusted your instinct on that one."

He wasn't lying either. His own research never indicated that the Werewolves retained any image of when they were human, recalling intellect and memories. Like her, he'd never met one either. Before now, obviously. And now they were everywhere, persistently crashing their way through the solid and thick metal door. It was all that was protecting them from being torn apart.

"I doubt it'll work on these ones though. There's an entire pack right outside." Said Doug.

Lydia readied her sword. "They will get what's coming to them. If my Thane is among them, I'll let you know."