There was something terribly wrong with her voice. It was colder than cryosleep, colder than the frost-rimed tunnels under the facility, toneless, lifeless. To Wheatley it sounded worse- much worse- than Hers, infinitely more terrible, because it belonged to her and she had never sounded like this before, ever, her voice had never been aimed at him like this, perfectly on-target as always and sharp as a diamond-tipped drill, her voice had never frozen and burned and shut him out like a slamming door.
Something catastrophic seemed to be happening to the stomach he didn’t have. It felt as if it was plummeting to around the level of his knees, and the small blurry voice at the back of his mind- the one that seemed to have a better idea of what was happening than he did- chose this moment to act as interpreter. This feeling, it informed him, meant that he’d just made a bad- awful- hideous- cataclysmically terrible mistake.
-Blue Sky by Waffleguppies
Anyway, wow. I’ve been feeling like I needed to work on some more finished work, and I’ve been having a lot of feelings for Blue Sky after going back and reading it for the second time, so I figured I’d draw out one of the most heart-wrenching scenes in Waffles’ wonderful story.