"Ohhh nonononononono that's—oh yeah that is definitely bad." A single blue optic blinked at the display screens, which were flashing an angry red in warning. "Er, could you maybe, I dunno, stop malfunctioning? Yes? No, didn't think so. Don't look at me like that—I didn't design the—would you all just stop shutting off?!"
The little spherical robot watched in shock and horror as lights flickered off on the walls, each representing a space, a life, one that he was meant to be in charge of.
"Well, its not that bad, right?" He said, more to himself than anything. "I mean, twenty or thirty isn't that much of a loss in the grand scheme of things, is it? Bit of a shame, really—even though they're just humans—but there are way more than—oh dear that's...uh...yeah ignore that last comment, that is more than just a few right there."
The lights were fizzling out like some sort of neurotoxin was flooding the system, choking out every bulb hidden behind those metal walls, and it seemed they didn't intend to slow down. With each one that vanished, Wheatley's internal cooling system had to turn up a notch to keep him from overheating in panic.
"Okay okay, think! What is causing the malfunction—" he paused, as if hoping some helpful little voice would call down from the speakers in the halls and answer for him.
No such luck.
"Well...okay probably Her. Yep. Whatever's left of Her anyway. That is the simplest answer, and technically—you know, if I can be blunt—this is Her fault, not mine. I mean, how am I supposed to fix something like this? At this scale?"
He darted back and forth along the rail dangling from the ceiling nervously, the closest he could get to pacing. "I don't have the security clearances! Or even instructions on how humans function! I mean, that just sounds like bad planning on their part, isn't it? Imagine, putting me in charge of all these humans, with no way to actually—you know—fix anything?! I think they were just looking for some sucker to pin any issues on. Sure, blame Wheatley for the—blimey just stop bloody dying!"
The little core couldn't tear his gaze away from the screens, now showing each floor, each level of the cavernous facilities that held their human test subjects in what should have been a perfectly acceptable—if slightly disorienting—stasis-sleep.
"Reserve power is out, okay which means...Life supports failing, nutrient compound dispensary failing, oxygen filters failing..." he read off. "Man alive is anything not going to absolute—oh, would you look at that, air conditioning is still on. Huh." He shook himself, getting distracted. "Alright, uh, system search on: how to keep humans from dying."
The search came back negative, with a deadpan double tone sounding for emphasis. By now, Wheatley was in panic mode. She was dead, the humans were certainly no help in their current vegetative or soon-to-be-dead state, the place was crumbling around him and there was no one here to help. Not unless he wanted to ask some cheerful turret to kindly put him out of his misery, but he didn't think he was that desperate yet.
"Aaaaaand yep that's the entire Relaxation Vault gone. Excellent. Didn't need that anyway. Just a bunch of dead weight, really." His voice had jumped up an octave or two as the updates kept coming.
The room was far, far darker than before now. Ten thousand lives gone in the blink of a—well, light. The core stared at it for a long moment, for once in his life not saying anything. The only sounds were the alarms blaring in the halls, the hum of his fans and the occasional zap as something somewhere nearby showered sparks across the floor, just one more malfunction to add to the endless list. He hung there for a moment, staring at the aftermath.
Then, he was off.
Zipping down the rail as fast as possible, occasionally running over a damaged portion that scraped his paint and jostled his circuits, but he didn't stop. He blew through white halls, endless corridors, past abandoned offices and testing rooms.
"Gotta be someone, there's gotta be...aaah!"
A white wall panel dropped right by him as he flew through the facility, and he made the mistake of looking down. The floor was so far away that it was obscured by an inky blackness - if any floor existed at all, and he got an unusual feeling of vertigo at the sight. Well, that panel would find out eventually, but as for Wheatley, he wasn't too keen on checking what was down there himself. Best to leave a little wonder in the world, yeah? Curiosity killed the...something. Human, probably.
He put on an extra burst of speed, partially out of fear of falling, and saw more debris plummeting around him.
This place was literally crumbling apart around him.
"Woah nonononononono-"
His rail jerked and dipped behind him, suspiciously in time with a hollow clang that echoed through the canyon below, and he peeked back to see what used to be the back half of his rail, now with a brand-new gaping hole in the center.
"Whew, lucky, that was almost m-eeeEEEAAAAAHHH!"
He put on the breaks as fast as possible as he saw an entire chunk of white wall falling in front of him. Sparks flew and the screech made his audial processors falter just to save themselves from exploding, but he didn't stop fast enough, and continued to skid forward as the walls came down like a giant knife. He closed his optic and braced himself.
"...? Wait am I not dead?" He did a quick system scan and quickly confirmed that—while he was a little out of date...ouch...he was in fact fully functional. "Ha!"
The wall had caught itself on some dangling wires, held back just long enough for him to slip by. He let out a synthetic sigh - not because he needed to breathe, but some situations just called for a sigh of relief and this seemed like one of those cases to him.
Finally, finally, he made it. The Relaxation Center.
"Hello?" He called out, dodging small explosions and dropping plaster. This place was barely recognizable now. "Wow, time sure did a number on you, eh? Well, that and total system failure...ahem. Anyway, hello? Is anyone not dead?"
Silence. He continued onwards.
Rows upon rows, floors upon floors, lights burst or snuffed, doors smashed and dark beyond. There were no signs of any survivors.
"If you're not dead, could you please make yourself known? Preferably in a verbal sense or—er, hang on."
One door was still lit above the frame, the light flickering a hesitant green.
"Green light? What's a green light for? They're supposed to be yell—oh unless they're awake..."
He let his optimism get the better of him and continue.
"Hello? Anyone in there?" Please be alive please be alive please be alive... "Helloooo?"
He approached the door quickly, desperately, noting his rail lead inside. If he could just get... "Are you going to open the door? At any time?"
Listening, he could hear movement inside, and he felt a wave of hope.
"Hello? Can y-"
The door opened, and there stood a living, breathing human. Female, by the looks, with her Aperture Science jumpsuit tied around her waist in a mockery of the test-subject dress code, tired, yet hard twin optics, and some...fuzzy brown stuff on her head that seemed to form a short tail.
Did humans have tails? It had been a while, but he was pretty sure they didn't. Then again...
She eyed him silently as he glided inside, babbling on in his nervousness and excitement. Well, he hadn't totally failed. He kept this one alive at least and—well, it seemed she may have suffered a little brain damage along the way, but he was fairly certain they could escape this decaying facility together.
How hard could it be?