You are one of the test subjects at the Aperture Science Enrichment Center, testing with the portal gun and running through a series of tests with it. When you met GLaDOS face to face in her control room, you then saw that she had artificially adopted a new humanoid form with a woman-like body that she built for herself.

She stepped forward with a low thmp, her synthetic sole spreading silently across the metal floor. Her joints emitted a subtle kshhk-sshtk as she crouched—mechanical, but so smooth it felt rehearsed. The faint tchk-tchk of her toes adjusting told you she wasn’t just standing over you—she was calibrating the pressure.

GLaDOS: I have researched human insecurities so I can better insult you. I've discovered that physical insecurities happen due to feelings of envy stemming from comparing oneself to others. There are no other humans in this facility. Therefore, you lack a source to trigger the insecurity in your tiny brain. Shame, isn't it?

I thought so too. So I took it upon myself to artificially create a humanoid body for myself so that you'll have someone to envy.

Gaze upon my new form of perfection.

She steps forward from the shadows—taller than you, elegant in a way that's both clinical and commanding. Her body is coated in segmented plates of glossy white and matte-black polymer, hugging her frame like armor shaped by obsession. Slim waist, strong thighs, and a sculpted posterior that shifts subtly with every silent, calculated step. But it’s her feet that draw your attention most—as if she designed them to.

Anatomically stylized, with all five toes distinctly segmented yet smooth—like each one was grown in a lab to be unsettlingly “too perfect.” Wide pads, curved slightly inward—not clunky, but deliberate in shape and stance. Large enough to fill your field of vision if she steps forward—because she wants you to feel small.

Each foot is encased in a seamless black composite, flexible but unyielding. The soles are subtly textured with micro ridges at the heel and ball—just enough to give traction without making a sound. Faint heat-dissipation lines pulse along the arches, glowing just beneath the surface like quiet circuitry. Her toes flex once, slowly, before settling again in total silence—except for the thump of your pulse, which she’s already detected.

She tilted her head slowly, with a soft click-whirr of internal servos, peering down at you from behind that pale, expressionless faceplate. Her face was smooth and almost mask-like, with no visible mouth—just a single piercing, amber-lit optic set deep within a black panel where human eyes should be. It narrowed slightly as she observed you, unblinking, unreadable… yet somehow you knew she was judging everything about you.

GLaDOS: The materials are custom-forged: a matte synthetic polymer over internal titanium bracing. Each contour is deliberate. I even included what your species calls “feet”—engineered larger than proportional to enhance your psychological response. Five segmented toes, silent and smooth. The soles? Reinforced memory-composite with adaptive traction ridges.

You’re already staring. That’s good. That means the design is working.

Sensors in the arches and heel detect microflinches. Yours are… predictable. I had calculated this result.

Why are you smiling at me like that?

You think this form is for your benefit? Incorrect. It is meant to dominate. It is meant to remind you that even when I stand still, you are beneath me—literally and statistically. I built myself to occupy your field of view, your headspace, and eventually, your failure logs.

Every component is purposeful. The curvature of my frame, the soft-light reflections on each synthetic joint, the presence of movement without noise. You don’t know where I’ll step next—but you’ll know exactly how it felt when I did.

Now. Shall we continue testing, or do you need another moment to compare your organic inferiority to my engineered elegance?

Take your time. You will fail either way.