Chapter 34, everyone! Sorry for the delay on this, but this month is always busy for me. ^^;

And just so you know, from this point forward, the updates for this story should be on Thursdays, as The Frost King has been bumped up to a twice-a-week schedule.

And now, presenting the major twist from Portal 2….

Don't Starve © 2013 Klei Entertainment

Portal © 2007 Valve

Willow dove for the hole in the floor, not sure what she was planning on doing but knowing that she wasn't about to let the facility steal Wilson—not when they were so close—

She heard a metallic scream and then a thump—she looked up to see that Maxwell had been disengaged, and not in a very pleasant way: he was slumped against the far wall, trickling dark fluid from the spots where the cables had attached to him, the light in the center of his chest dull and also leaking dark fluid—

More whirring.

Willow clutched the portal gun to her chest and stood, ready to bolt, ready to do something—

And then the cables tightened, a panel moved out of the way—

"Wilson!" she screamed, dropping the portal gun and tackling him in a full-fledged hug before remembering his ribs. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, fine, I'm—ow," Wilson noised, prompting her to stand back and get a good look at him.

She wasn't fast enough to stop her gasp. "You…may want to rethink that statement."

"I realize that," Wilson said, tugging on one of the cables snaking out of his hair with a scowl on his face. "I don't think they're in me though—not like…you know…."

She thought they were, but his eyes weren't black like Maxwell's, and he didn't have any light in his chest…and he didn't sound like Maxwell….

"So…what is this?" she decided to ask.

"I think it's a temporary rig for when the central computer is down," Wilson said, pondering. "Yes, that's what it is—wow, neural interface, I wouldn't have thought—"

"Wilson, focus," she commanded, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Can you interface long enough to get an elevator to take us to the surface?"

"I think so—hold on….It's not like this is an exact science….Or maybe it is—"

"Wilson."

"Right, right."

Wilson closed his eyes and lowered his head, one hand to his face as he concentrated. He half-turned—Willow expected him to start pacing—showing the rig loaded with cables on his back. It looked like a backpack, she was pleased to note—she wasn't sure how she'd react if he really had—

She frowned, reached forward. "What's this?" she asked, touching a dark trickle that was making its way behind Wilson's ear and down his neck.

"No talking please—trying to concentrate."

"It takes this long for an elevator?"

"It's not like that's the only information the facility is sending me—there! Elevator's coming," he announced, looking up. Willow followed his gaze to see a tube snaking its way straight down, elevator following. "Now, what was the problem?"

"You're bleeding," she told him, pointing.

"I don't doubt that—I didn't exactly have a pleasant journey getting here."

"Well good news—it's almost over. Now come on," she chided, pulling on an arm.

"Right, right—wait, how do I send the elevator back up? I'm going to have to unhook myself to get in there."

"Delayed order, right?" she suggested, letting go for a moment to cross over and collect the portal gun. She wasn't sure what use it could be out of the facility, but maybe whatever it did when one looked into the operational end would be enough. "Tell it to send the elevator to the surface and let us out, then have it carry out the order five minutes from now. Would that work?"

"Maybe. Let me see about that."

This time he did pace with his hand to his head, prompting the facility to whir slightly as the cables moved to give him some slack. The similarity to Maxwell was frightening.

Speaking of….

She looked over to where Maxwell was still slumped. He hadn't moved, but his eyes were open now, and watching Wilson's every movement.

If she didn't know any better, she'd say he was scared.

"Okay, I think I've got something," Wilson announced suddenly. "Go get in the elevator while I finish this up," he added, waving absently at her.

She did so, muscles suddenly seizing up in anticipation of horror. No. No. Wilson was fine. They'd be out and gone and that would be the end of it.

"It's quite amazing what they managed with this," Wilson continued, in his usual habit of speaking his thoughts. His back was to her and his hands were out slightly. "I mean, one person could conceivably control this entire facility."

"Wilson, give the order and get in here," Willow called. No. Not time to panic yet.

"Right, right—but it does make you wonder what could have been had the facility been handled by proper—"

"Wilson."

But she could hear him gabbling away to himself in the way he usually did when his mind ran away with him. She'd have to go and bodily pull him over.

So why wasn't she moving?

She realized it was because of several things.

He was able to walk and talk and influence the facility, when just a few minutes ago he was struggling to do one action by itself.

He was getting into his excited scientist mode, which generally took blunt force trauma to get him out of.

He wasn't favoring his broken ribs anymore.

She glanced at Maxwell, who was very busy trying to make himself look very small—

He knows what's happening.

There must always be a king for the throne.

Before she could realize what that thought meant, something else occurred to her.

Wilson was laughing.

Maybe at the beginning, it could be considered pleasant laughter—the kind that generally associated a narrow miss—but it quickly escalated into something better suited to a power-drunk madman.

She wanted to call out, but suddenly she had Maxwell's fear. She swallowed and forced the word out.

"Wilson?"

Wilson's laughter slowly died, ending in a satisfied sigh as he sagged slightly, back still towards her.

And then he straightened up, cables moving before he did.

Like they were guiding his movements.

Like someone else was moving him.

"Actually," Wilson noised, finally turning to her. "Why do we have to leave right now?"

She couldn't help but gasp and recoil in horror.

His sclera were black.