ATLAS and P-body are exploring a long-abandoned hallway deep in the old facility. They pass a row of heavy wooden doors, most closed, a few hanging open to reveal well-furnished offices or stately boardrooms. Until they come to one door in particular.
In this near-airtight place, no dust has settled in years. The old wood looks as rich and dark as it did decades ago. The polished knob still gleams. And just above their eyeline, a golden plate that reads:
Chief Executive Officer.
ATLAS reaches for the doorknob —
But a sharp voice stops him on his built-in comm device. “You can’t go in there, you don’t — “
A tiny pause.
" — Have a key. Come back up. That’s enough for today."
Far above, GLaDOS shivered.
She’d almost said, You don’t have an appointment.