Chapter 68, everybody! Only a couple of chapters left we are FINISHING THIS YEAR, FOLKS! ;v;/
Moving on…wasn't really sure how to proceed with this, knew what needed to happen in order to get to the ending pictured, wasn't sure how to get there…and then had a "doi" moment one night when I remembered that turret-cubes exist. :D
Also had the tracks "Bombs for Throwing at You" and "Your Precious Moon" on ad nauseum while working on this chapter—really helped set the mood. :O
Don't Starve © 2013 Klei Entertainment
Portal © 2007 Valve
She wasn't sure if the screaming was coming from her or the facility falling apart around them—the cores were yelling as Maxwell staggered back, sword ripped out of Wilson's grip—
Maybe I should have left the euphoric response on, Wilson said drily. That wasn't as satisfying as I would have hoped.
"Yeah," Maxwell wheezed, stabbing his sword into the ground to help hold himself up. "I'm real disappointing like that."
Willow scrambled upright, trying to see everywhere at once—she needed something, anything—
Wilson was already turning his attention to her. Maybe getting rid of you will be more rewarding.
No—look around—there was a sphere across the way, but there was a huge gap between them—if only she could—
Portal.
That white stuff—the conversion gel—some had splattered on the bomb shields—
Throw a portal on one of the shields angling her way, fire the other beneath the sphere—catch it as it came rolling her way, spin around, preserving momentum as the shield swung back around, Wilson right behind it with a fresh sword and a look of fury and horror on his face—
Slammed the sphere against his head, sending him careening back, dropping the sword as the sphere screamed "FOR VALHALLA!"—
Spasmed as a black blade went through his stomach, back out—
Maxwell sliced a good chunk of cable away before collapsing himself.
"Pro tip," he gasped, going from his knees to a sitting position before slowly keeling over. "Next time make sure I'm dead first."
Wilson snarled, scrabbling for the sword Maxwell couldn't keep a hold of anymore, wound sealing and healing as he struggled upright, some of the cables finding the personality core Willow had clocked him with—swung the sword up, ready to drive it into Maxwell—
Went down again to Willow clocking him with another core, swinging it around to intercept the cables now angling for her—ended up tangled and panicked as she fell against Wilson's collapsing frame—shrieked as something grabbed her—
Went rolling away with Maxwell, who had ripped the other sword out of himself and was slicing at the cables struggling to reach them.
"Max!" she gasped, teetering to her feet—hands and knees might do for now.
"Ohh, that one wasn't thought through," he groaned—sunk to the floor, dark gray spreading from his stomach wound.
"Max," she gasped, wincing—look up at Wilson trying to untangle himself, fighting against the cables and getting shocked again for his trouble—
"Warning: central processing unit eighty-seven percent corrupt," the announcer suddenly declared.
That's not my fault! Wilson shot back.
"Alternate central unit detected. Proceed with unit transfer?"
"Yes!" Willow yelled.
Y—gkkh— Wilson gasped, scrabbling at the cable wrapped around his neck and choking him. Ghh—no!
"Stalemate detected," the announcer said, sounding much too chipper for the situation. "The stalemate button will have to be pressed in order for the stalemate to be resolved."
"Finally," Willow muttered, casting around—sprinted for the button when it revealed itself—
No! Wilson barked, struggling against the cables, reaching out for her desperately. No—Willow don't—DON'T, WILLOW!
She was flying through the air again, all sound and air suddenly robbed from her, eyes closing from the flash of light—
Hit a panel hard and rolled, trying to suck the air back in—
Part five, Wilson said, voice bitter and disappointed as he hung limply in his tangle of cables. Booby-trap the stalemate button.
Willow tried to get up—nothing was wanting to work—managed to drag herself to the portal gun, fingers closing around the handle—
A spider-turret stabbed its leg down, digging into the back of her hand, lasers trained on her—
No…I'm sorry, Wilson gasped, fingers limply still trying to tug the hangman's noose of a cable dragging him back upright. It's over.
Willow winced as the spider-turret locked on—
Blinked in surprise as one half slid one way, the back half sliding the other—looked, as surprised as Wilson was—
Maxwell dropped his arm, sagging back to the ground after expending the last of his energy in throwing the sword.
"What can I say," he muttered. "I like last acts of spite."
Willow couldn't help the dumbfounded glance she exchanged with Wilson—
Had another one when the announcer declared "Stalemate button pressed—proceeding with central unit transfer." Look over, startled—
To see several turret-cubes stacked on top of each other, the top one with optic narrowed happily as it pressed down on the stalemate button.
Wilson sagged. Of course.
Willow coughed, thrilled, surprised—pushed herself up—
Started scrambling backwards as the cables started snaking for her.
I don't think so, Wilson said—no fear, no anger…triumph, maybe. You're not going for her, you labeled her as unfit ages ago. You're not going for him, either—you've already done that, he's about useless.
"Hey," Maxwell groaned.
So that leaves one question, Wilson continued, glaring at the room at large. 'What, precisely, is the alternate unit?'
The cables stopped….
Snaked down into a gap in the floor, ripping out of Wilson and flinging him against the far wall, sending him rolling across the panels, black blood staining white conversion gel.
"Wilson," she gasped—staggered upright, grabbed the portal gun—this didn't feel over yet—managed to get close before collapsing next to him, crawled over, grabbed his shoulder and turned him—"Wilson—"
A familiar clanging noise told her the facility had changed hands again—looked up in terror—
Felt a sinking sickness in her chest as she registered the thing in front of her as fully robotic.
We are displeased at your chicanery, it declared. But thank you for removing the need to field through useless fleshlings. Focused on her. Now to do what should have been done many, many tests ago.
Willow flinched back as the robot started advancing on them, it guiding the cables instead of vice-versa—
Realized Wilson was weakly grasping at her arm.
"Willow," he breathed, barely able to get his eyes open. "Willow—the moon—shoot the moon—"
She looked up, realizing they were in the puddle of lunar light—
On conversion gel—
"It says here that the conversion gel is made from…moon…rocks…."
Grab the portal gun, shoot in front of the robot—
And then shot straight up.
Your precious moon won't save you, the robot declared—
And then everything went crazy.
Staying conscious was a knockout dragout fight at this point—managed to get a handful of the cables snaking around seeking a host, bit back a cry of pain when they burrowed in—fresh nanites gave him back some clarity—
And then of all things, she shot. The moon.
This, he was very much aware of when the portal on the ground started sucking everything into the vacuum of space—
The cables caught him—managed to hook himself in properly, realized the trap the kid had set—he had actually set a trap, had finagled a way out—
Now all he had to do was finish it.
Summon a fresh sword, slide his way to the portal, hearing them screeching—
Saw her hanging on for dear life, clinging to the kid and a trailing loop of cable—
Release us! they demanded. Release us so we can fix this!
Oh I already fixed it, pal, Maxwell snarled, sending a cable to loop around the kids and yank them back. And you are NOT coming back.
And with that, he sliced them loose—
And then shut down the portals.
Say hi to Buzz and Neil for me, he said drily. Turned to the two unconscious test subjects on the floor.
Now, what to do with you….
