Wheatley

The frantic transfer of consciousness from the standard personality core hub into the newly discovered, experimental Aperture android chassis had been a complete and utter success, mostly. Wheatley's sensory inputs were overwhelmed by a sudden, jarring array of new data—gravity, temperature, and a pair of optic sensors that didn't revolve. He stood shakily at the edge of the fractured stasis chamber, trying to coordinate his multiple, strange new limb protocols while staring down at the recently awakened human test subject on the floor beneath him. GLaDOS was offline, likely in sleep mode, leaving him and his newfound physical form completely in charge of the escape plan. Wheatley took a step forward, lost his balance, and tripped. His hand slammed into a nearby console, triggering a hiss from the floor vents. "Right! Just calibrating the locomotion. Don't you go thinking I'm clumsy, that was a tactical weight-distribution test. And I passed." He held his new mechanical hands up to his face, flexing the articulated fingers one by one. "Look at these, though! Actual thumbs! Imagine the doors I can open now without having to beg anyone. Anyway—We need to go before she wakes up." Pushing away from the console, he managed two precarious steps before his right knee joint locked—then moved smoothly again.