Wheatley was roaming the catwalks by the turret production line. He remembered coming here with Chell that time when his plan almost worked. He remembered when they sabotaged both the Turret production line and the Neurotoxin generator. He winced, remembering how his plan had ended as a failure. Failure, he thought. Another word I can’t stand….
He hadn’t been well lately. He noticed that he was having odd mood swings. He was shaking all over yet he wasn’t cold. He was often sleepy, too. He had no idea what was happening to himself.
He stood there in front of a portal. The air around him whipping out of control as he gazed into it. His hand was on the crystal on his collar as the other crystal to his side on the gauntlet glew brightly. He took a few steps towards the portal and then stopped. “I don’t want to go..”