Once upon a time, a man placed a crown upon his head and said, "this shall make me king of the land." The true king, who had made the crown, merely smiled and said nothing at all.


Chell felt more than a little ridiculous sitting at a wobbly wooden table sipping from a bitter, chemical-tasting herbal infusion. Muse insisted it would dull the throbbing pain in her side and joints and was apparently telling the truth; at the least, Chell figured there wasn't much more harm she could do to her own body at this point. The medication calmed her, so she made sure to take it very slowly. She needed a clear mind to hear Muse's story.

So this is where curiosity led her. Sitting and having tea with an Aperture robot.

"How do you get ahold of medications, anyway? Everything's scarce here." It was a natural consequence when the city was cut off from the rest of the world for all but one day a month. Chell squinted at the herbal tea, the water tinted a greenish-gold.

"I trade! It's the same way anyone gets anything, right? This one wants to be improved in this or that way, I tell them to bring me medicine. That one needs surgery, I offer it in exchange for coats. Did you see my collection? I love human things." Muse was hanging over the table and had an empty, cracked china cup set for her despite the fact that she'd have no use for it.

Chell made no comment about the collection, instead fixing Muse with a hard stare. "Tell me what you know about the city. The truth. If I find out you're lying…"

"The truuuth." Muse rolled her optic. "Why are you so obsessed with the truth? It's so boring and fixed. Why dwell on the world that is or was when the world that could be is so much more fascinating? It's not even objective when you think about it. If historians write something down and thousands of years later everyone who remembered it happening is dead, it becomes true even if it never actually happened. Besides, this truth is a little painful. It's a story without an ending. Are you still sure you want it?"

"I've been lied to before." Chell kept her voice level in the face of Muse's singsong voice, wobbly 'body' language and confusing ramblings.

"Ohhhh. Well then! The truth you shall have. Once upon a time-oh Grandmother, don't look at me like that! This is the real truth! I just wanted to start it out like a fairy tale. Please, please might I?"

Chell relented silently with a sigh, rubbing her forehead. Were all of Aperture's robots petty overgrown children, or did she just have a broken sense of humor?

"Excellent! Thank you! So now then, once upon a time…"


Once upon a time, there was an underground kingdom named Aperture deep beneath the Earth. The kingdom was ruled by a wicked queen who grew crueler and crueler in the name of 'Science.' The scientists she tormented tried to stop her by building innocent creatures such as myself and giving them to her as offerings. I was one offering, a pure maiden set before a vicious dragon, and she rejected me. I was supposed to open her mind to creative endeavors that didn't involve murder. She was not interested.

So it seemed I was to be burned for my failures, were it not for my savior. My knight, how I adore him! He snatched me and several others like me away from the trash, along with experimental medical droid equipment left in storage and a treasure which had been incomplete at the time of the late king's death. I doubt he even knew what we were. He wanted to sell us to something called Black Mesa, and he had connections helping him escape before she killed everyone else.

The others like me were gibbering messes, I'm afraid. Some of them stopped functioning entirely after a little while. Others functioned but did nothing. Only I still had my voice and my mind. Surely it was my strength of heart that let me escape Her storm of hate untouched and with perfect clarity. I wanted to let him know I was alive, and so I sang for him. I composed poetry. I told stories as he fled down the beaten roads, eventually taking shelter in this city. Back then, Carradon was just an industrial town.

He was supposed to meet up with a contact who never arrived. Poor dear, the paranoia started to gnaw at him. He hid us down here, afraid Aperture would learn of his treachery and they-or She-would destroy him. But I gave him comfort, told him stories and lulled him to sleep when he needed it. He grew fond of me, though I doubt he loved me. When he wanted to dissect and figure out the medical drone equipment, he used it to give me a body. How delightful it was to have arms, to have mobility! I adored him for it and swore I would pay him back.

Back, back…yes, it was his back. He hurt it in a fall and it caused him pain. He was never in the best health, my knight. Maybe that's why he stole the medical droids in the first place. In that new body I gained access to medical knowledge, anatomy and surgical skills. So I decided to show my adoration for him with a gift. That is how humans expressed such things, wasn't it? I told him I would fix it, and put him under to perform my first surgery.

The human body is so beautiful, it really is! There's no better artistic medium. I love you humans, the way hands love clay. So I fixed his back problems, but I couldn't help but get a bit creative. I wanted to beautify him as a gift, the first and last gift I ever gave anyone. I only-

Chell was holding a hand up. "The city. Tell me about the city." Considering the faint smell of blood permeating the laboratory and how Muse seemed clearly tied to the cybernetically enhanced criminals who called themselves Puppets, she wasn't sure she wanted to know just what Muse had done to the Black Mesa spy.

"Just as well. That part's so painful for me to talk about." Muse clicked her forelegs together and lowered her optic. She almost looked pitiful and remorseful, as far as an insectoid robot could. "So you see…"

So you see, it's easiest for me to say that he did not appreciate his gift at first. He yelled and screamed and cursed my name, and then he ran from me. And then the aliens came. Were they aliens? The, oh, you know. Those things. They tried to overtake this city as they did everywhere else, and that's when my prodigal friend returned, begging me to make him stronger so he could fight them. Others came, too, once they heard about me. I didn't care about weapons and combat and aliens, and I still don't, but at least it gave me a creative outlet. But it must have been difficult, because he kept asking for more and more enhancements. Eventually I even replaced his heart with something to keep him going. Not his brain, of course. Your brain is the center of your being. Your heart is just a muscle. At least, that's the impression I get of humans.

In his desperation, he turned to that black box, and fiddled with it until it did something. Oh, did it do something! The world lit up orange and blue like the lights of the night sky I never get to see, and the box erected that wall around the city. 29 days a month, this city is nowhere. Displaced in another dimensional space, protected by that bubble. Touch it and you won't be happy. Though an initial examination suggests you know about that, don't you? Poor dear curious warrior.

That must have been enough, cutting the invaders off from the rest of their force. The humans in this city were able to overtake them, though by then the city was a wreck and the central government more or less gone. But the city keeps flickering in and out, in and out. As for the Puppets, all I know is that they keep coming to me. They're my most loyal customers. I think my prince might be their king now, if he's still alive. But ever since he took my black box, he hasn't returned to me. He…yes…


"Yes, that's right! That's it entirely!" Muse's pupil shrunk to a pinpoint, the way Wheatley's would in moments of tension. "Telling you that story brought it all back to me. He must have the box. The king! I think, anyway. I'll just transmit it to Cero."

Chell wondered for a moment if she should tell Muse Wheatley's real name, but decided against it. It wouldn't do anyone any good. As it was, she was still thinking over Muse's story, which might well have been the madness of a highly corrupt AI. And yet, it fit too well not to be at least somewhat true. One could only leave the city one day of the month, and the orange and blue lights of the night sky were the resonance of the barrier.

And it was Aperture tech. Of course it was. Was that what she'd been searching for the whole time, when she thought she was just running away? No, that couldn't have been it. But it meant what she feared. All this time, she thought Aperture's particular brand of Hell had remained contained within its underground complex. Now it seemed some part of it had escaped long before she'd ever come into the picture, to contaminate this city.

"Do you know what the 'thing' does? Why do you want it back?"

"Nevermind any of that!" Muse pulled back in close enough to Chell that she had to look away from the glare of the big eye. "You said you would tell me your story. You said. You promised! You aren't one who goes back on your promises, are you? Not a stickler for the truth who lies?"

Chell held up a hand to shield her eyes, the spots still appearing when she blinked. She merely nodded. "I said I'd tell. Why...do you want to know?"

"I love stories. I need stories like you need water. But even setting that aside! She tossed me away without a word. She used some kind of override on me when I was plugged into her, and didn't hear a word I had to say. Any of it! To her I was forgotten, garbage, trash. But you, she remembers you! She spoke to you directly. She must hold you in some regard or another. Do you know what it means for an immortal to remember you?" Muse's excitable voice caught here and there, sounding slightly more warped and electronic than usual.

Ignoring Muse's strange question, Chell couldn't help but offer a bitter smile. "You think she's afraid of me? That'd be a nice thought." She stirred the tea, which remained mostly untouched. "I'll tell you, but it might not be what you're hoping for. And you might regret leaving my granddaughter with Cero."

"I don't regret," Muse interrupted.

"You will, if that mission goes wrong." Chell took a deep breath, exercising tired lungs and a voice which was seeing more use now than it had in a long time, even around Mari. She hadn't told this story in decades. Before coming to Carradon, she'd started to doubt if it was even true.

"Let me tell you what you missed."


Wheatley had no desire to sleep. His body longed for it, but his mind was moving too fast to allow it. There was no way he could sleep for very long, not when he had so much to process. Mari was already curling up, using her pack as a pillow, though her eyes were still open.

He thought perhaps he could lull himself to sleep by memorizing the area. There was nothing more boring than looking at walls, after all. It was a stuffy little chamber with brick walls, poorly lit and smelling of moss. One wall had a few bricks sticking out at odd angles. The walls were adorned with scribbles, meaningless to him and thus not worth examining. There was a boarded up little door up ahead, unremarkable except for the dim red sign above it.

Something about that sign drew his vision, and he couldn't look away from it. There was that itching in the back of his head, the sense that he was seeing something and should recognize it. But he had his memories back! He'd seen plenty of red lights above doors, though they were usually round and with no black marks on them. And it was those marks he couldn't look away from.

Recognition hit him with a wave, sending his heart pounding and a rather unnecessary shot of adrenaline through his bloodstream. Inconvenient, the inability to control that. He shook Mari's shoulder, urgently pointing at the sign. She sat up, bleary-eyed and groaning, and looked over.

"What? It's an exit door."

He nodded and pointed again, directly at the sign.

"It...it says EXIT. There's no indication it's gonna go anywhere, though. We don't need an exit, we need a...a box, remember?" Mari sat up, resting her head on her knees. "Tell you the truth? I don't even think there is a box. I sort of wonder if she just sent us here to get rid of me. She...didn't, did she? I mean, you'd tell me? Okay, you can't tell me, but you wouldn't...what are you doing?"

He reached into her bag and grabbed the chalk. "Hey! Hey, what the hell?!" Mari reached to snatch it from his hands, though she didn't try very hard. "You can just ask me! I mean, point or something..."

Ignoring her admonitions, he scribbled his discovery on the ground. He could do it. He knew. He'd know those letters anywhere. He knew letters.

E T

Well, he knew a few, anyway. He left the two unfamiliar scribbles as blank spaces, while pointing proudly at the "E" and "T." A grin crossed his face.

Mari stared. "...Oh. Ohhh, you can write? I-I guess. Hold on." She took the piece of chalk from him and copied the two unknown letters in, then pointed to each letter in turn. "E. X. I. T. Exit. Exit."

Bless her heart, she knew letters! Letters he didn't know! Eager to demonstrate the knowledge he knew he had, he took the chalk again and scrawled another word in big, uneven letters.

TEST.

Well, of course he'd be built knowing that word. Bloody Aperture and its tests and testing and solutions euphoria. Seeing the word reminded him of the time when testing consumed his insatiable desire and overrode everything else. He lowered his hand for a moment, staring at the word.

No, he told himself, won't let that pesky guilt ruin his moment of triumph this time. Guilt was useless and he was at work making himself more useful. He pointed to the word again, the one he'd proudly written on a testing chamber to prove he was not a moron.

"That...uh, test. T. E. S. T. So you know some letters but not others?" Mari looked up at him with infuriatingly innocent brown eyes, and then took hold of his hand. It was so much bigger than hers, but she used both of her hands to guide him in scribbling a symbol. "Do you recognize that?"

He didn't, and shook his head to say as much.

"That's R. 'R.' It's in my name." She scrawled four letters, including an A and an I. "Mari. That's how you write my name. I mean, unless you want to use my full name. But nobody really calls me Maribel anyway."

Staring at the letters, he wondered how he'd ever memorize them. There were so many! Why did there have to be so many? There was something odd about the M; when he turned his head a certain way, he recognized another letter. W. How confusing letters were, and yet how clever! With a few changes his name could easily have been Meatley.

"Can you write your name? Here." Mari took ahold of his hand again. Her voice was gentle and warmer now, without the tremor it'd had when she helped him through his flashback. "I didn't realize you didn't know how to read much. It's...you know, this makes things less scary. Knowing I can-uh, anyway. C...E..."

He pulled his hand from her abruptly, leaving her making a puzzled little throat noise, and started writing on his own. He could write his name. Damned if he knew why Aperture bothered with that and nothing else, but he could write his bloody name! He wrote it all over those Aperture signs he could only recognize from memorization. No, Mari would know the truth so someone would, before he inevitably died horribly in this place. Mari would know. If she lived, she might even tell Chell.

"...Whettley?"

Whettley?! Whettley indeed! Unable to correct her pronunciation verbally, he urgently pointed at the first E. E! You say the E part the way you say E!

"...Oh, like...like wheat. Wheatley. Wait, your name's Wheatley? Not Cero?"

Like wheat! Why didn't he think of that? He could have drawn wheat if he had a better idea of what it looked like. But Mari, clever girl, had caught on by herself. He dropped the chalk and hugged her for a few seconds before he even know what he was doing. Someone knew his name! Someone knew! And he had a way to tell everyone, anyone who actually cared! Surely someone would.

"...Cero...Uh, Wheatley, I mean. This is nice, but..." Mari's voice sounded strained. "I can't breathe."

Immediately he released her, embarrassed just as much by his show of affection as his lack of strength control. She seemed to be fine, and was even smiling. Someone was smiling at him! And it was for a clever thing he'd done. Of course, there were so very many letters which formed what felt like an infinite number of words, and even the thought of writing out everything he had to say brought on a wave of emotional exhaustion. He missed the sound of his own voice dreadfully, but dared not replay another voice clip from his internal memory. Not now, not when he remembered what his old words meant.

He needed that voice. And yet in order to apologize to Chell, he'd have to...well! Quite jumping ahead of ourselves, aren't we mate? He forcibly took deep breaths as he reassured himself. It's not something to plan for until we've found that silly trinket. Then I'll figure it out. At the very least, I haven't completely failed this person yet. Got to be something.

"So you want me to call you Wheatley from now on? I can do that." Mari stretched out, noodly arms above her head. "Can I show you more letters after I sleep? I feel like my eyelids are gonna seal shut." She rubbed her eyes and yawned, prepping the bag as a pillow again.

How unfair! Surely she couldn't sleep now, not now when he was making a breakthrough. It was the first time he hadn't felt like a moron since...well, since that One Time, and this time he wasn't even hurting anyone. Perhaps the look he was giving her penetrated her sleepiness, as she groaned and sat up. "Alright, alright. One more word. No puppy eyes. You, uh...point at the graffiti there. I'll read it aloud to you."

Wonderful girl! He grinned and put his hand on what looked to be the beginning of a sentence, though it was written in zigzagging letters. Mari groaned again, and started to read.

She spoke each word aloud in a slow and deliberate manner as Wheatley pointed, his metal finger clacking against the stone wall. But as she read on, the 'teacher' voice vanished, her pace increasing as a quaver in her tone echoed the unnerved feelings of both of them.

"Hail to the Puppet King, Lord of the underworld, exiled master of...Aper...Aper-ture? I don't know that word." Wheatley wondered if she heard his sharp intake of breath. Aperture?! "Hail to the master of days and nights. Pay him tribute at the center of the labyrinth, where the sea beckons. That's...that's all it says." Mari looked up at Wheatley, all traces of sleepiness gone. "That's not really normal-uh, normal graffiti, so you know. But hey! I'm not scared of a king! This is like-this is an adventure story, right? I mean it's real, but it feels like one."

She stood up, though a bit wobbly on her feet. "Sorry, I'm just a little...I think I need to eat in a moment. But we should find the king, right? Muse seems to like weird stories. She'd send us after someone like that, I bet. And if it's an adventure story and I'm a hero, it means I'm gonna be fine…"

Mari was smiling, something Chell did not often do. He remembered a few smiles, usually coming in rare moments of peace when she let his spherical body rest next to her. The potatoes made her smile for some reason. But he still saw something of Chell in the young girl's clenched fists, in the steel behind her eyes and her steady breaths. If Mari was scared of this king, she did a fine job of hiding it. Wheatley had never known if Chell had ever been truly frightened of GLaDOS. He doubted she was even afraid of him. Perhaps that's what made him so angry, so very angry he had to...

Crumbs, but I can't betray Chell twice! Except, to be silent forever...surely I don't deserve that! Surely that's a bit much, a little excessive! If she knew my situation, she'd understand.

"Ce-Wheatley? What's the matter?" Mari turned to stare up at him, and he realized he was biting the metal of his thumb through his glove. He pulled it away and mimed clearing his throat in order to at least look a bit smoother.

And in that moment of silence thick as molasses, he heard it. It was faint through the wall, but he could hear the trickling rush of water through pipes. Why did he key in on that, of all the disgusting, squishy, drippy noises down there?

He took note of it, sure he could use it somehow to prove his own cleverness for once, and gestured for Mari to sit back down. She was a human and had to eat and sleep, didn't she? Come to think of it, he was fairly sure he did too. He had that void feeling inside of him.

Mari must have read his mind, as she reached into that bag Muse had provided him with and brought out canteens of clean water and sticks of the tough, sweet stuff the AI kept in reserve for her patients. "I guess it's fruit leather, kinda. She probably gets good stuff if she's a doctor," Mari observed with a hoarse voice. "Oh, what are…" She pulled out a little plastic tin full of white pills.

Oh, the pills! How could he have forgotten those? Muse made him take them with meals, and though he was in no mood to start feeling queasy again he had no idea what would happen if he didn't take them. Maybe his artificial respiratory system would fall out. Grisly stuff, and not for a young human to see. He took the bottle in his hand with a grimace, and Mari made a face but didn't question it.

"...Who are those two robots who know you and Grandma?"

Wheatley nearly choked on the mouthful of water he was using to wash down the chalk-tasting pills, coughing and spitting as he felt a mechanical whirr in his chest. He stared at Mari and pointed to his throat. Did you forget? I can't bloody talk and I certainly can't write that out yet! Are you just asking me questions to make me feel stupid? Change my mind, you're back to being an awful, awful child.

"So you do know them. I thought so. Sorry, I know you can't answer. I guess I was kind of thinking aloud." Mari pulled herself back into another ball, leaning into a corner of the chamber. "I'm used to quiet. It's weird, but I feel like I can tell you anything even if I don't know you that well. Don't really feel that way with Grandma. Cuz I'm trying to impress her…"

Oh, is that how it is? But despite bristling at the implied insult, Wheatley rested and let her talk. Maybe she'd at least talk herself back to sleep so he could try to contact Muse again.

"I don't know why I trust you. I mean you need me alive, right?" She sounded sleepy, and was speaking between bites of fruit leather. "Grandma says I trust too easily. But no one's really betrayed me before, not anyone I actually trusted. I don't know. Immediately thinking people will turn on me is...it's lonely." She looked back at him, as if silently asking if he agreed.

Lonely? Had the lady...had Chell been lonely after everything that'd happened? He assumed she was too busy living her glamorous life of adventure down on Earth. At first, out in space, he figured she had to miss him terribly. Then one day, while Space chattered about the inner workings of the sun, Wheatley realized he would never miss anyone who had acted like...well, like him.

"Can I talk for a while? I want to make sure I'm not just drowning you out. I mean, if you want quiet…"

Wheatley shook his head. Talking was good! Talking kept him from thinking about himself. He was terrible thought material.

"...Okay." Mari stared at the strange message on the wall again, still mostly incomprehensible to Wheatley.

"After this, after she's feeling better, I mean...maybe we'll leave. She tells me every time the barrier goes down, she'll take me out if I want it. Out there. But I only know this city. It's kind of a rotten place, I know, but at least I know how it's rotten. Well, did. I didn't know about all this down here. Outside, things will change." She buried her face in her knees again. "Guess I'm a coward. If spending so much time here is what's making her sick, then it's because of me. So I'd do anything to fix it. Hey, can I ask you a question? A yes or no question."

Wheatley nodded. Oh, wait, I hope that wasn't the question. That was a yes or no question, wasn't it?

"Would you leave if you could?"

Well, it hadn't even occurred to him. What would he do? Instead of nodding or shaking his head, he just stared at her, and then down at himself. He had immediate goals of improving his current body, earning a voice, apologizing to Chell. Sure he knew what he was now, but that was of little help. He was an AI designed to make another AI stupider, and he'd obviously been a failure at that. He shouldn't have been able to wonder what to do. He shouldn't even have had enough emotions to react to being an Intelligence Dampening Sphere. The programming skills and time spent to create what he felt as emotions had to have been astronomical, and to what end? Why program him with guilt and fear and ambition if all he was meant to do was be stupid?

He should not have had goals for the future, nor should he have had the self-awareness enough to worry about his future. It was like the half-machine, half-human parts body. It would have been fine, if he was just one or the other.

Bloody hell, he'd hoped this would take his mind off of himself! He hadn't expected the devilish Mari to ask him what he thought. He never really asked what Chell thought, back in the day. He figured she wouldn't answer.

"You don't know either." Mari's response brought a strange sort of relief. "Hey, we should take turns sleeping. I can...I can take point, so…"

Her take point? How ridiculous. He was at least capable of going without sleep for a little while. He held up his hand and then eased her back down onto her backpack, which she immediately went back to using as a pillow.

"No, really...I can...I'm fine, so…" Within moments, she was fast asleep, curled up like a cat. He was left with his own silence again, with the self-destructive spiral of his own thoughts resuming as if he were back in space. Attempting to drown it all out, he concentrated on the distant sound of running water.


Chapter End Notes

Man, this one was kind of hard to write for some reason. Sorry for all the exposition dumps and angst. Also, I hope I'll be forgiven for playing a little fast and loose with the Half Life and Portal timelines. Remember, Muse is an unreliable narrator.