Life was meaningless.

I had no purpose other than to continue my work, the only thing I had ever known. Work had been fun at first, and my boss had seemed nice and rather witty. However after some time, my boss began acting strange. It started with the lying. Then, my boss began to intentionally make my work dangerous. I survived, but only through quick thinking and a bit of luck.

Eventually the everyday grind of navigating my way through a neverending maze lost any appeal. My boss promised me cake when the job was completely done, but it wasn't worth it. I wished for something, anything, even death, that would rid me from this meaningless existence. I was tempted several times to walk infront of a turret or fall into the radioactive slime, but the pain these methods would bring seemed greater than the pain of a meaningless life, so I carried on.

Then one day, my boss had a surprise for me. He had brought me a Companion to assist me in my work. Or more specifically, an Aperature Science Weighted Companion Cube. At first, the Companion Cube assisted me with basic tasks which I nonetheless couldn't have done without it. We rounded a corner and came face to face with a ball of radioactive energy coming straight towards us.

I thought we were doomed, but then the Companion Cube jumped in front of me of its own accord and shielded me from certain death. My mouth dropped, as I imagined the pain the Cube must have been experiencing. My boss said something about "symptoms of enrichment center testing" and "perceiving inanimate objects as alive" but I paid no attention. I knew this was love. I knew this was real.

We continued on together for a while. The Cube was essential in completeing the task my boss had set for me. I tried talking to it, but I received no response. My boss then oddly informed me that the Companion Cube would never threaten to stab me (as if it would ever)...but more importantly he informed me that my Cube was mute. I felt a pang of sadness - not the selfish sadness one feels when they lose something, but the true sadness that is felt when empathizing with another being.

This revelation did not hamper my love for my Cube, my Companion, who had brought happiness and joy into my life, and who had selflessly endured pain to save me from death. After opening the final door which would lead to the elevator I had grown quite familiar with, our boss seemed to congratulate us on our new found compaionship. But then the bos said something which would change my life forever.

"However, [the Companion Cube] cannot accompany you for the rest of the test and, unfortunately, must be euthanized. Please escort your Companion Cube to the Aperture Science Emergency Intelligence Incinerator."

I gasped in horror, looking across the room and seeing what I now realized must be the Incinerator. I fell to my knees, tears already streaming down my cheeks. I looked at my faithful Companion and proceeded to envelop it in my arms, determined to never let it go.

My boss continued on as if nothing was wrong. "While it has been a faithful companion, your Companion Cube cannot accompany you through the rest of the test. If it could talk - and the Enrichment Center takes this opportunity to remind you that it cannot - it would tell you to go on without it because it would rather die in a fire than become a burden to you."

"You could never be a burden to me!" I cried, and hugged my Companion Cube to my chest. But then I remembered. Although my boss had lied to be at one time, boss had since promised that he could no longer lie to me. I had to finish the testing, or else I would never get the Cake. And if the Cube couldn't come with me...didn't want to come with me...

I hugged it one last time then picked myself up off the floor. I walked slowly, hesitantly, toward the button that would open the incinerator. It took more willpower than I've ever needed to press it. Then I picked up my Companion and held it over the flames. Tears clouded my vision and my hands began to sweat uncontrollably, and not just from the heat. I held it there for what seemed like hours, just crying and admiring its beauty. But then I remember the Cake. And the Cube slipped from my hands.

"You euthanized your faithful Companion Cube more quickly than any test subject on record," said my boss. "Congratulations."

11/10 would euthanize my Companion at the behest of my boss and all for a piece of cake again.