Chapter Text
It had to have been at least 5 minutes before Gordon realized there wasn't more to the game. That it had completely shut down to his desktop without him noticing, leaving him to stare into the black lenses of his VR Headset.
It had taken him a considerably less amount of time, however, to realize he was crying.
It wasn’t even a sad game, but the ending stung more than he ever would have expected.
It definitely hadn’t helped that he shared a name with the game’s protagonist, which was pretty cool the first time he played through Half Life. That was actually one of the main reasons he had gotten into the series. Hearing all of the various scientist NPCs say his name was a fun little plus to the story. It... hit kind of differently when they could directly respond to what he was saying, though.
He had tried to find the source of this “Experimental VR Self-Aware AI” build of a game that was made roughly 22 years ago after playing it, only to find that any trace of it online had vanished. He couldn’t even remember what website he had found the download link on, along with the instructions that he had to act “In Character” as Gordon Freeman in order for the learning AI to function correctly. He hadn’t known what to expect, and he was only really worried about how well the game would convert to a vr perspective.
In fact, nothing had really seemed all that different at first. None of the NPCs paid Gordon any mind apart from the normal dialogue, and he was wondering if that so-called “self-aware” ai had been a ploy to make more people download what might have just been a virus. As soon as he began to question it, almost as though it was coded to show up during that kind of thought process only, an NPC he’d never interacted with before introduced himself as Tommy. Most of the NPCs were still your stock standard scientists or guards, but he did run into a few others that seemed able to respond to him in real time shortly afterwards. The game definitely seemed to change the instant a stray security guard flagged him down, asking him for his passport. How the fuck was he even supposed to respond to that? The original half life never had anything of the sort, and when he responded saying he didn’t have it on him the guard had claimed he had to follow him for his own protection. That’s when Gordon knew he was in for an interesting ride- but nothing in the world could have prepared him for what he was about to experience.
More importantly, nothing could have prepared Gordon for how attached he had gotten to his little gang of self-aware NPCs. Hell, he even got kind of attached to Benry despite his annoyingly antagonistic behaviour. They were all endearing in their own ways, and at times it was extremely easy to forget that he wasn’t actually playing a multiplayer game. He could see their self-aware, learning capabilities unfold the longer he played as they came up with intricate, if not bizarre, stories for themselves and adding little details to black mesa that were... pretty hilarious in hindsight, actually (The idea that Black Mesa gave every single one of their employees their own patented silly straw? He wished that was an actual thing Valve had thought of, it made Aperture Science seem kind of competent in comparison).
There was one NPC, however, that kept quite literally grabbing his attention- Dr. Coomer. The scientist had clearly been implemented as some sort of Tutorial early on, and very quickly became glitched in a seemingly endless loop of spouting his initial greeting to the player amidst his actual dialogue. It was a little distracting at times, but there wasn’t much Gordon could do about it. As a tutorial NPC, Dr. Coomer was always eager to give him helpful information or, at the very least, give another go at his rope dialogue (Gordon never saw an actual rope his entire playthrough, and still didn’t know if the experimental build even added ropes to begin with). But as it turned out, his helpful nature was kind of a turning point in their bizarre-o version of half life.
During his second session he’d asked in-character about perhaps scaling the cliff wall to escape Black Mesa, wondering if the AI could think of a reason to steer clear of the idea entirely. Bubby had immediately shut him down as he expected, because of course Black Mesa had been built in the middle of absolutely nowhere, but before Gordon could even try and push back on the idea, they were interrupted by Dr. Coomer suggesting he try his “Power Legs” to clear the hills. Confused but intrigued at what the AI would try to even tell him after the attempt, Gordon had accepted the offer, and without a single thought the scientist had launched nearly straight up, far past anyone could see. Then, nearly instantaneously, he was back beside Gordon and Bubby, as though he hadn’t jumped at all. It was startling to say the least, but not as startling as his response.
“There’s nothing out there.”
Because of course not, the player’s never meant to see past the hills so nothing got textured. As far as Gordon was aware, it cut off pretty instantly out of sight in order to save resources. Yet, Dr. Coomer clearly wasn’t taking the knowledge well, there had been an immediate change in his demeanor. The always chipper NPC had seemed to be filled with dread, repeating the same answer again when Gordon had asked what he meant. Interestingly enough, When Gordon had tried to brush off the entire debacle, Dr. Coomer had seemingly jumped from that dread directly back to his normal self the instant Bubby suggested their usual brand of mayhem.
The more Gordon thought about it now, the more concerned he should have been. If he’d have understood what it meant to the scientist, to see your entire reality suddenly stop dead mere feet out of reach? Maybe he could have completely bypassed the most terrifying fucking moment of his life,video game or otherwise, when Dr. Coomer had cornered him with several of his clones after having his in-game arm sliced off (which he knew for a fact that was not supposed to happen in vanilla half life, and it took all of his energy to stay in-character enough to keep the AI working.) demanding to see the world inside his dreams all while threatening to climb inside the fresh wound and pilot him like a goddamn puppet. The entire ordeal had terrified and confused him at the time, but of course it made sense now. When Freeman slept, he wasn’t playing the game.
But once again, like clockwork, Dr. Coomer had snapped back into his overly boisterous self, leaving Gordon to wonder if the NPC was even aware of previous events in spite of him downright stating that he felt everything the clones had felt. The friendly tutorial coding just seemed to be strong enough to have completely overridden whatever malice that seeing void had caused the self-aware aspect of his AI to pick up.
Gordon hadn’t realized exactly what had happened with Dr. Coomer until nearly the end of the game. In fact, it was minutes before the final boss fight before Coomer had even tried hinting at it by dropping the most immersion shattering question Gordon had ever heard from a video game.
“If you woke up one day, and realized everything around you was a lie… was fake… What would you do?”
He just… He didn’t know how to respond to that. Hell, he didn’t even know what to think of it. The implications that Dr. Coomer, this character in a game, these lines of code… had become self-aware in a way that Gordon was sure the game itself hadn’t even meant, It had scared him. There was a chance that this was all programmed stuff, he’d seen games do this kind of thing before, but after everything Dr.Coomer had put him through during his playthrough he doubted it. It all felt too real. Yet, did the others… know? None of the others had even responded to the scientist's inquiry, what if Dr. Coomer was the only one that realized they were all pieces of a game? Gordon was supposed to be keeping up a charade of being someone he wasn’t in order to keep them all functioning correctly, surely acknowledging this would disable AI or maybe even something worse. That thought had scared him even more.
Because to Gordon, these weren’t just characters anymore. With roughly 10 hours spent with these constantly learning, ever growing NPCs they were his friends, no doubt about it. Maybe they weren’t all the best of friends- he and Bubby still constantly butted heads and... he’d maybe bump Benry down to “Annoying Acquaintance,” but he genuinely enjoyed their company even if 95% of it involved aliens, shooting at the military, and constantly being interrogated for his passport. The thought of genuinely losing the science team was enough to make him begin tearing up on the spot.
So, Gordon didn’t answer. He had just looked at Dr. Coomer, at his low polygonal, expressionless face.
And that alone seemed to answer the question well enough.
“Gordon, I don’t think there’s any turning back from this point.”
Most of the final battle went on without a hitch, most of it being your standard boss fight routine. Gordon hadn’t even known how to react when the team had suggested going all the way back to the locker room ended up actually being foreshadowing. Having to brute force the most recent AI of Dr. Coomer to resurface in a seemingly dormant clone in order to get back to fight Benry’s final phase had caught him very off guard. Being thrown back into the fight so suddenly after that, he felt forced to acknowledge something he had been getting Increasingly nervous about the longer the final session had gone on:
What was going to happen to The Science Team after he beat the game?
But just as Coomer had said, there was no turning back. They won, because why wouldn’t they, and the screen faded to white, and then Gman was there (Because why wouldn’t this have changed, it’s an iconic scene!) giving him his complimentary speech. Apparently the learning AI had a field day with it though, trying to figure out how to tie up loose ends (Tommy was Gman’s son? Sure, that’s pretty hilarious.) and ultimately changing the very end of the game. Gman wasn’t here to employ Freeman for anything at all, instead he had been… trying to throw his son a birthday party? At a goddamn Chuck-e-Cheese (whatever happened to Tommy being 36? The AI was so inconsistent with that stuff)?
Gordon knew he still had to take Gman's offer, and as he stepped through the portal he was greeted with a brand new ending sequence. Somehow this bizarre developmental version had generated an entirely new map of the restaurant in order to show the party, and seeing everyone hang out and eat pizza after everything was definitely tonal whiplash. But, It was nice.
At the very end, it showed one last picture of the major cast enjoying themselves; the science team where all at a table talking to each other (Gordon could see the skeleton just behind the Freeman model- very sneaky, game.) and generally enjoying themselves. But before it faded to black for the credits Gordon had noticed something. While everyone else was staring at either Freeman or another NPC, Coomer had been looking directly into the camera as though he could see right through it, a sort of bittersweet smile on his face that was ever so clearly directed at the player. The smile of someone who knew that they might never see their friends again.
And... then the credits started. There was no information on how this build was made or for what reasons, no information on who or what had even made it. Just the normal, default half life 1 credits. He’d been left to stew with his thoughts and worries about the science team and what might be happening to them, and nearly leaped straight out of his chair as the music suddenly cut off and the view in the VR headset blackened. Several long seconds went by and just as Gordon began to assume his entire computer had crashed, a familiar voice came through his headphones.
And as Coomer delivered his speech, Gordon didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t too long, but it was obvious that it had been prepared well in advance. He was eager to get to the point, something Coomer rarely was; “Does this really have to be the end of our time together?” And if this had been any other game, Gordon would have just assumed this was just a teaser for a sequel game. Some sappy dialogue written with the express purpose of hurting the players emotionally with a character that was a fan favorite- and it definitely hurt, but not for that reason. It hurt because it was finally confirmation that this silly little broken Tutorial man had done something Gordon had previously thought to be impossible. Coomer was fully aware of being in a game, fully aware that Gordon wasn’t exactly who he thought he was, and saddest of all, he was fully aware that their time together was drawing to an end.
There were games that made Gordon cry in the past, he wasn’t too ashamed to say, but it was mostly because of excellent storytelling and getting attached to the characters (Not to mention, the games’ soundtracks had been top notch). And he absolutely did get attached to the science team, there was no doubt about it, but no- the reason Gordon could feel himself begin to tear up was realizing that they, or at the very least Coomer, had grown attached to him as well. Suggesting that Gordon transfer them to another game, or even to a USB drive as a way to finally show them the world in his dreams. The excitement in his voice as Coomer said it left Gordon feeling sadder- he wasn’t too tech savvy and he didn’t want to risk somehow corrupting their data by doing something wrong on accident. The train of thought was derailed as the scientist continued:
“You changed our lives Gordon, I’d like to think it was for the better. And I don’t know what's going to happen to us once you exit the game for good. But I know we’ll never forget you… I hope you won’t forget us.”
And just like that, he was crying. How could he forget them? There was absolutely no way in hell he would be able to forget the science team. It wasn't like every time Gordon had seen an actual rope since the first playthrough he’d had to suppress a chuckle, or heard the ungodly unreal sippage of the science team in the back of his mind every time he saw a vending machine. The fact that Coomer had even let the thought cross his mind, after everything? That hurt the most.
And sure, there was always a chance that this was all pre-programmed in, and that the apparent self-awareness was just just the work of an amazingly written story and perfectly crafted artificial intelligence. But Gordon knew it had to be more than that. It was far too personal to be a generic goodbye to the player.
Coomer brought his speech to a close with a “Goodbye, Gordon!” Which of course he did, signing off with his first and only farewell in a sea of boisterous greetings, leaving Gordon smiling through the tears at his self-referential joke. And, then there was nothing. Silence, black screens, and his own thoughts.
He took off the headset to wipe the tears from his eyes only to notice that the game had closed itself completely- He’d heard of games doing this kind of thing before, there was that one with the flower that had apparently had an entire boss fight with the mechanic of the game shutting itself down. And yet, the idea of opening the game again made him nervous. There were too many possibilities on what could have happened as the game closed. Did it autosave after the Benry fight? He’d somehow managed to make it through the entire game without dying, so he didn’t actually know what happened to the AI if he had to revert to a previous save file...Hell, it could have even deleted his save file, seeing as he downloaded this version of half life through some shady part of the internet he couldn’t even find anymore. Once again, the idea of potentially losing the science team overwhelmed him.
It was too late to try and deal with this stuff, after a 4 hour VR gaming session topped with the emotional drainage that was the after-credits sequence, Gordon decided to call it a night. Hesitant to what might happen if he powered it down he opted to place his computer in sleep mode, and headed to bed, deciding that he would start the game back up in the morning to see what awaited him.