Title: Impact
Fandom: Portal
Rating: PG
Genre: Adventure, Friendship, Character Study
Warnings: Portal 2 Spoilers, Character Death
Summary: ATLAS and P-body set out beyond Aperture, life rebuilds itself, and a catastrophe speeds toward earth. Post-Portal 2, microchapters of 500 words.
The robots reached the end of the field, and stopped walking.
They only had the shade of the sky as an indicator of how much time had passed: the sky was black by the time they stepped from soil to grass, lightly swaying. The transition from yellow and brown to green was sudden, and both robots had briefly hesitated before moving from one field to the other.
Beyond the grass was a mass of trees, just visible in the distance.
P-body trilled, making a sweeping motion with its arms, hands still grasping its portal gun. The noise had no exact meaning – the two robots had never been given the ability to speak outright - but they’d always been able to get by on merely gestures, on vocal tones and pantomime. They’d solved tests and leapt across chasms with less.
ATLAS made a confirmatory chirp, and tried to reach for the clasp on the container strapped to its back. It struggled for a minute, optic lenses nearly shut in concentration, before P-body moved forward and opened the case itself.
Inside were several rows of disc-topped beacons, like tiny satellite receivers. They were multi-pronged at various angles, and P-body removed a hand from its portal gun to lift one from out of the container, removing it from the foam mold that had kept it in place, and raised it up as gently as it could.
Only a few inches away from its optic, P-body could see every detail on the device, every seam where metal was folded over metal and grafted in to place, each precision cut. P-body crouched down and ATLAS leaned in to look as well – the two’s optics flickered with curiosity over the tiniest, most important piece of their assignment.
They’d never seen anything quite like it, but they knew what their orders were and vaguely what to do with the object.
ATLAS placed down its portal gun again – the device only getting filthier – and took the beacon from P-Body. Not quite sure what to do, it fiddled around with the prongs on the device, moving them about until, with a tiny beep, a rod, just slightly thinner than the main body of the beacon itself, extended from the device’s base. ATLAS looked left and right for a suitable spot, and then drove the beacon in to the ground.
Blades of grass brushed up against the beacon, the disc at the top minutely adjusting itself until it faced perfectly upward. A red light at the disc’s center began to pulse, noiselessly.
ATLAS grabbed its portal gun and readjusted its grip around the device, and the two robots stood. P-Body looked briefly at the beacons left in the container before snapping it shut, letting out a light, accomplished chirp while ATLAS readjusted the case’s strap.
Squinting again, ATLAS tapped the beacon with its foot, as if to kick it over; it stood, unharmed by the action, and ATLAS nodded, satisfied. Again, the robots set off in the direction opposite Aperture.