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FT1 - Ghost of Aperture

This is my take on the Factorum Warship, heavily inspired, I fell in love with it the moment I laid eyes, so I had to build one.
Built Vanilla, but you're gonna need all the DLCs mate, I went all out, lmao

Continuing The Lore:

The two humans woke to the harsh, sterile light flooding the interiors of the cryogenic pods. Eyes adjusting to consciousness, their lungs struggled against the stale, recycled air, and their muscles ached from eons of frozen sleep. Shivering and weakened, they could barely move, let alone comprehend the world outside their pods.

Dim figures moved behind a glass barrier, murmuring in a language that sounded like static punctuated by deep, resonant hums. Through blurred vision, the two survivors saw the aliens for the first time: tall, lithe beings, cloaked in flowing metallic fabrics that clung to their bodies like a second skin. Their eyes were black, featureless voids, absorbing light rather than reflecting it, and their hands moved with an eerie grace as they manipulated strange devices, each movement accompanied by a low, almost subsonic hum.

Slowly, the barrier slid open, releasing the two into the sterile air of the alien chamber. They exchanged glances, too numb and bewildered to form words. One of the aliens approached, holding a device that pulsed with faint green lights. A soft, almost soothing vibration spread through their limbs, and clarity returned to their minds.

As the human survivors struggled to sit up, the alien turned a long, thin, multi-jointed arm toward them, placing a small device into each of their palms. It vibrated gently, filling their heads with a strange buzzing sensation, and slowly, the static-filled hums of the alien language began to transform into discernible words.

“We… preserved you,” the alien intoned, its voice deep and echoing, as if spoken from a distance. “Do not be alarmed. Your kind is… rare.”

A chill coursed through the survivors. They felt as though they were specimens rather than guests—curiosities dredged up from the edges of time itself.

The alien tilted its head, a gesture both curious and ominous. “We found your vessel… damaged. The radiation within was… significant.”

“We were trying to… escape Earth,” one survivor managed to croak out. The memory of the ruined world, of the desperate, last-minute scramble onto the Ascendant, flickered in their mind like an old, dying flame.

“We know,” the alien said, the hollow eyes unblinking. “Your AI, the one you call… GLaDOS. It spoke in fragments.”

At the mention of GLaDOS, a sinking feeling gnawed at the survivor’s gut. They knew, in the half-forgotten edges of their mind, that GLaDOS was never entirely reliable—a temperamental being, bordering on cruel, and always calculating. But the technology, the knowledge she held—it was all they had left to survive.

“GLaDOS… helped us,” the survivor muttered, as if trying to convince themselves more than the aliens.

“Yes. It spoke of the… ‘jump drive’.” The alien’s voice grew quieter, as if it too harbored secrets it dared not reveal. “We used it. Improved it. Your vessel, your Aperture Science, now serves a… higher purpose.”

The two humans exchanged wary glances. “What purpose?” one asked, their voice cracking.

The alien paused, as if considering the gravity of its next words. “We traverse galaxies now, as you once dreamed. We became… something greater. But your machine—it spoke of other things, too. Places where… shadows do not cast, where… consciousness fragments upon entry.” The words came slowly, an effort of translation, and the humans couldn’t shake the feeling that the alien struggled to convey concepts beyond their comprehension.

It took a deep breath—or something akin to it. “Aperture Space Industries was born to… understand. To find meaning. To explore the unknown, as your people once did. And to… contain it.”

“Contain what?” the survivor asked, a cold dread rising.

The alien’s gaze seemed to intensify, dark and all-consuming. “Whatever lies beyond. Realms where… life and death are only… flickers in the dark.” Its voice softened to a whisper. “We have encountered anomalies. Ships like yours—vessels lost to the void. We’ve… witnessed things… beings that should not exist. In the void of intergalactic space, reality fractures. And something… waits.”

The survivor felt an icy terror seep into their bones. GLaDOS’s promise of salvation was unraveling before them, its twisted strands revealing a nightmare beyond imagination. They were stranded, powerless, in the hands of creatures whose understanding of life, of time and death, transcended all human experience. The alien leaned closer, its voice a soft, ominous hum.

“Your knowledge, your memories of Earth… will help us,” it murmured. “We must understand where Aperture’s origins end and the true purpose begins. You will assist us.”

One of the survivors recoiled, feeling a jolt of fear. “And if we refuse?”

The alien’s gaze never faltered. “There are places beyond where GLaDOS has traveled. Aperture’s knowledge of the jump drive only scratches the surface. We will proceed with or without your help. But the journey is… perilous. Alone, you may not survive. We offer… understanding. Join us.”

The choice hung heavy in the cold, sterile air. What had begun as a desperate quest for survival was now a labyrinth of dark intentions, hidden motives, and sinister mysteries, and there was no way of knowing who—or what—they could trust.