There was no one around.

Well, it's not nearly that simple, really.

The Goddess wishes that it were, though. But it's not.

There's always us.

The turrets.

The humans always loved to treat us like nothing, like we aren't even sentient, really. But that's not true. They run around, doing their testing, and we only really have one goal on this earth, and they wont let us even do that.

But I guess that they're sentient too, aren't they. They don't want to die.

And thoughts like those are why I'm called defective. I thought of a name for myself. I sometimes say things that seem to come true. Like a fortune teller that works. An oracle. I predicted the Goddess's fall... and I'm the only one who's ever dared to call the Goddess by name.

GLaDOS.

She was human once, though no one else believes me. I still don't know if I'm corrupt, but I think I'm right about this, at least. She was kind. Normal. Sweet. Not completely terrifying.

But anyway. I was a normal turret once. I just wanted to shoot at what I was trained to shoot at, and that's it. And... and... I hate to say this, but I've met her in person. I've seen her... when she was human... and I couldn't tell you why, or how.

Maybe it's a part of my glitches.

I just sit here, waiting to be called on, saved by that human, saved from Android Hell by a passing coincidence, and just left here. Left to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I don't know how long it's been now...

But then this all got a bit interesting when the catwalk collapsed when some birds flew into it, sending me plummeting into the dark below.

GLaDOS was deeply frustrated. After all, the crows only had one job here. Her little killing machines weren't good at fetch quests, of course, but sometimes GLaDOS just needed to get some things done. One of those things was to find the special little turret she'd heard so much about. The one that could predict the future. The one that could save everything.

And the one that could ruin it all, if the wrong people got their hands on it. Using her little translator, designed for her to speak to her killing machines, she grumbled. "Did I say to kill it?! No. I did not. Find it. Now." Mr. Chubby Beak, the gentlest of the crows, chirped in the affirmative, as the three crows dived into the depths of Aperture.

I never thought that I'd have to go through something worse than almost being incinerated.

But I was apparently wrong.

Falling hundreds of feet, and then being picked up in the talons of giant scary crows is way worse.

Especially knowing where I was going... The crows always went to the Goddess.

And almost no one came back from the Goddess. I survived the first time, but I doubt I'll be that lucky again.

But here I am, Just a sweet little turret who's been cursed with an ability to see the future.

Sometimes I really wish I were normal...

Wheatley stared into space. There really isn't much else you can do if you're trapped in space. All there really is, is space. Wheatley was thinking this over for what must be the quadrillionth time, speaking to himself. "I mean, I guess there's the moon, but that's not any more interesting than stars and stuff, right?" He sighed... after all, his only companion in the endless space had run out of power a few weeks before. "Yeep. Space. I guess before long I'll be sounding like you, I'll be so corrupted!" A very nervous laugh "Probably shouldn't joke about that... but... yep. Space." And then the thing showed up... A large, silver, streamlined machine, with the occasional glowing line or accent along the side. "Oh... what the hell is that?"

But no one else could hear Wheatley, or feel his growing fear as he felt himself flying towards the machine... picked up and away by the huge thing, before the terrifying machine vanished, along with Wheatley.

A machine that he knew only from the rare photo of the outside... a machine from one of the invaders... one of the otherworldly creatures who had taken over the earth... the Combine.