Chapter 1-

Four Years Previously: Year 2099-

Doug Rattmann could hear them when no one else could. Flashes of vibrant memories that were not his own. Cries of confusion. Lilting lullabies. At first he believed he was losing his mind. Schizophrenia, they told him.

As a child he had been diagnosed with a special ability that allowed him to communicate with others telepathically. An Anomalous Genetic Deviation, they called it, or simply shortened to deviation. Anyone diagnosed with a deviation was dubbed a 'Deviant'. Doug had never really liked that word. Only 17% of the world's population had the extra DNA sequencing that allowed such... abilities to develop. It wasn't politically correct to call them 'super powers', so the name 'deviation' was used.

He hated it.

It made those with deviations seem like criminals, like something was wrong with them rather than something wonderful. It was a scientific miracle! A complete breakthrough for science and genetics. Yet, the world was skeptical. Humans with deviations were outcasted, despised, and envied. What human wouldn't wish for such a wonderful gift?

Well, Doug Rattmann was one of them. He loathed his deviation with a passion. Glimpsing the minds of your fellow human beings was never something he had signed up for. And he had certainly never signed up for this.

He skidded down the hallway, his shoe marking a black scuff along the white tile floor. I'm in here. Storage locker 55E. You're almost there, Doug.

Doug Rattmann had worked at Aperture Science for nearly thirty years. He had originally signed on in order to study his deviation in further detail. Aperture Science prided themselves on the advanced study of science, genetics, and the development of deviations. They worked with children, adolescents, and adults who developed or possessed the gene for a deviation. At least that was their marketing strategy.

Aperture Science had been around for almost 150 years. In the mid-1900's, they had been founded on a basis of innovation and invention, but in the background they studied the newly developed Deviant community. Back in those days they called them super powers, plain and simple. Just like the comic books.

Aperture studied people with deviations, testing them in various ways. They learned how to apply them in unique situations, eventually mastering the various types. Then they copied them.

Scientists were able to develop a way to create a gene mutation sequence that would give those without deviations the ability to use one for a temporary period of time. At first the entire operation was illegal and highly monitored. Messing around with the genetic code of human beings was downright immoral, dangerous, and many times lethal. People would insert a temporary gene mutation to give themselves a two day period of invisibility, telepathy, or enhanced strength. If it didn't kill them, it usually gave them permanent damage in some form or another. Constantly taking samples from subjects, especially those with high-demand abilities was taxing, and posed risks to them as well.

Despite publicly denouncing this practice and keeping up a front of pure scientific research, Aperture Science continued in their scientific 'progress' and study of deviations up until Rattmann's day. Although in his time the majority of the human population no longer cared what was done to Deviants. It was a widespread (and still illegal) practice in the year 2103 to share deviations and splice DNA for some temporary fun. To get a chance to have some super human abilities, even if for an hour.

Nothing super about it, Doug mused. The whole thing was disgusting and he couldn't help but feel abhorrent about his choice of a career. He loved to study deviations and the science behind them. Yet his job proved too much for his conscience to take... eventually he just tuned it out. Focus on the science.

So he did. He ignored the test subjects taken against their will. Test subjects with deviations who had been discovered by the wrong person wanting to make a quick buck. He ignored the countless deaths at the hands of scientists and testing chambers. He ignored the black market dealings of DNA sequencers that ultimately caused bodily harm to the user. He found it easy to ignore it all. The science is all I'm here for. It had become a three-decade long mantra of his.

But the consequences had eventually caught up with him. Two years before this very moment, Doug had been getting strange glimpses. Whisperings around the corner that were not typical of the normal Aperture employees. At first he ignored them. Probably some weird test subject that just got here. They'd go away eventually.

They didn't. The whispers became voices that became screams that became full-blown shattered renditions of memories. After a couple weeks of this constant bombardment, he couldn't focus on his work. The voices screamed at him, completely nonsensical. Against his better judgment, he got himself screened and was told he had developed Schizophrenia. Ridiculous. Apparently the years of subtle telepathic touches had slowly driven him to a schizophrenic state. Nothing some medication wouldn't cure.

Of course the medication did nothing to ease his problem. It only escalated the fragile state of his mind. Yet somehow Doug had become really good at covering his tracks. He was an excellent scientist and could deliver outstanding results. There was no way he was going to risk becoming non-essential and handing himself over to the testing tracks himself.

Nearly seven months previously, Doug had finally found the solution to his problem. If you could call it a solution, that is. It was more like a horrific discovery that had only worsened what he thought was his mind losing touch. The memories had been real. The voices had been real. They were genuinely talking to him because they knew he could hear them.

Nobody else could.

Doug found the cubes in a storage locker. They were a new batch that he had never seen before. Unlike the normal testing cubes with the iconic Aperture symbol on each side, these sported bright pink hearts. They were supposed to appear cute, but they only added to the horror of what each of them held inside.

Each cube held a fragment of what was left of a human mind. They were from a discarded project that had entailed downloading human synapses into an artificial intelligence. The project had gone horribly wrong and was discarded after about a year. The storage room was full of them.

Doug had sunk to his knees and cried. He hugged the box who had led him there, cherishing each memory it could deliver to him. The cube itself didn't seem to understand his distress. In fact, it was just happy to have someone else to talk to! Before someone came to check on what he was doing, he had grabbed the cube and shoved it above the ceiling tiles. He would keep that one safe. I'll come back for you, he had promised it.

A couple scientists had noted his entry into the abandoned cube storage room and came up with a brilliant plan to add the cubes to the arsenal of boxes already in the testing chambers. As far as they were concerned, the cubes were complete failures. They were quickly dubbed 'Companion Cubes' and were emptied out into the testing tracks. Doug hid his chagrin and ignored the cubes' quiet questions and chattering nonsense. He took a small amount of comfort in his friendly companion cube resting above the ceiling. No one would ever know it was there except for him.

And that was who Doug was listening to now. He listened for his cube, following her instructions as he focused on not falling to complete and utter panic. I'm in here.

He bolted into the storage locker, taking deep breaths of less tainted air. He fell to his knees and hugged his cube tightly, trying to keep his nerves under control. Relax. You're not going to die today, Doug. I think there are some gas masks under those boxes back there. That's why you're here, right?

Doug only nodded, still gasping for air. The neurotoxin levels outside were crowding the facility. He had only heard an alarm sound just minutes previously when someone had screamed that they were trapped inside. The scientists were in complete panic. Nobody knew what was going on.

Doug had noticed the neurotoxin leaking from the pipes and ran in the opposite direction where he knew some gas masks were, along with his hidden cube. Thinking about it made him feel incredible guilt. I could've told them where to go. But I panicked and ran for my life. They don't even know these are here, he lamented to his cube silently.

It's not your fault. Neurotoxin kills within minutes. You didn't have time to spare... those are scientists out there, Doug. Like you. They'll find a way to survive.

His cube always knew the right things to say, but Doug couldn't help but feel complete dread. Who had activated the neurotoxin? Those systems had been shut down years and years before. They had only been there as a safety precaution back during the... alien...issues. He still silently wondered if those stories had been truly accurate. The system should've been completely worn down and useless. In fact, none of them had ever been trained to deal with this type of emergency.

But someone had activated it. The entire facility was in lock-down, trapping all of them inside. Who did this?

Doug snapped on the gas mask and fell limply against his cube in both relief and trepidation. The neurotoxin wouldn't kill him now, but something else might try to finish the job.

So he hid. He crawled up through the circulation vent behind empty boxes and hid behind the walls of Aperture. He watched through the cracks as his coworkers and the test subjects fell unconscious and slowly suffocated to death in a sea of deadly neurotoxin. It was beyond horrific.

He cried silently as he felt each of their thought processes tune out, one after the other. Who did this?

An angry test subject?

Could it really have been a faulty system activating after many many years?
Suddenly he heard a voice in his mind, chastising itself harshly. Who is that?
Douglas, Professor Rattmann, is that you? The voice asked in a clearer tone.

It was Henry. Henry, are you ok? I'm inside the wall behind you.

No, no I'm not... I can't move. I know I'm going to die... are you ok?

Doug was chilled. Yes, I found a gas mask. I was hiding here. Henry, I'm so sorry. Doug stifled a sob just in case anyone was out there with the dying scientist.

Douglas! Doug, before I go, you need to know...

Oh lord. Henry knew who was behind this, didn't he?

It was Her, Douglas. None of us saw this coming... I'm the one who should be sorry. She was my charge and I didn't see it. I should have and I should have stopped her. This was my fault, so do not blame yourself for surviving this. Stay alive and get out of here, Professor Rattmann. Good... good luck... His telepathic link was fading rapidly.

Doug sat in silence as his workmate faded away. He had known Henry Cadwin as long as he had worked at Aperture. Now he was gone. They could all be gone.

Doug Rattmann clutched his cube and found solace in little nooks and crannies found behind Aperture's walls. He listened for clues, listened for voices of the survivors.

There hadn't been any.

After nearly fifteen hours of searching, his hope faded away. You're going to survive this for them. You'll find a way out. Don't lose your hope, Doug!

He sat grimly in a small den he had found. Some old cans of paint were lying around, and he grabbed them with newfound resolve. He dunked his entire hand in the blue paint and started splashing it against the wall. Then the orange... then the white.

What are you doing? His cube queried.

You are right; I am going to survive this. After an hour of ferocious spattering and splashing, he was covered head to toe in dripping paint along with the wall in front of him. Before him was a gestural rendering of a young female with long white hair. One hand splashed with blue, representing neurotoxin. The other arm dripping in orange, representing the blood of the countless who were needlessly slaughtered that day. Black engulfed the backdrop and flowered where her heart was located.

Glados did this. He was not going to forget what had happened here.

I'm going to survive it for them.

Hey everyone, it's time for the dreaded author's note! I promise they won't all be this long, but I've gotta explain a few things... :) First, thanks for reading the first chapter of my fanfic. This is my first time posting one, so I apologize in advance if I don't seem to know what I'm doing on here yet, haha.

I started writing this story months ago, and the entire thing is mapped out in ideas until I write it out (the story is complete, so I'm not making it up as I go chapter by chapter...). I've been hesitant to post it because one, it's kinda nerve-wracking putting your words and ideas out there for others to judge as they please, and two, I'm a perfectionist and I'm never going to be perfectly happy with it.

Anyway, this story is obviously a Portal AU where the characters we all know and love are humanized in a dystopian-like future where humans have developed super powers they dubbed 'Deviations' (sounds way cooler than powers... just sayin'). I know it probably sounds off the wall and you're probably like, 'Nope', but I wanted to try something fresh and new (since the majority of fanfiction for Portal I've seen are all pretty much the same concepts over and over...). Not that those aren't good, of course. I just wanted to try something different. :)

What's in the story? You'll see all the official Portal characters of course. I've also included many characters from Harry Callaghan's 'Meet the Cores' series (you'll get plenty of Virgil, I promise). So if that's not your cup of tea, then I apologize. There will be no ships, as I want to prove that you can write a good story without romance. Believe me, it can be done. However, if you wanna look at different interactions between characters as something you'd rather believe, go on right ahead. I'm only throwing it out there now that it was not written with any ulterior motives in mind. ;) This story will be clean (respectfully, no cursing please... I appreciate it!)

I also apologize if the story starts off slow. I wanted to stick to the original plot of Portal and then base my story off of that. It will be very similar at first, but I promise you it will take off later.

I hope I covered everything (probably too much). But I appreciate all your feedback and comments. I would appreciate any constructive criticism, as I have no idea how my writing will appear to others. If I have any weird writing quirks that annoy you, please let me know. I want to write something that is pleasant to read... :) And if you spot any typos or grammatical errors, please alert me to those as well. Thanks so much! I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it! I hope that posting what I have so far will inspire me to continue writing it (I've kinda hit a writing block recently... just need a little more motivation I suppose). Enjoy!

*Disclaimer: I do not own Portal... obviously. And Harry Callaghan owns his own characters.

-Moe