Gordon Freeman (Internal Monologue): Slams the door shut and leans against it, panting. “Okay… breathing room. Just me, a locked door, and… a janitor’s closet. Great. Perfect place to die: surrounded by bleach and mop buckets.”

Sits on a chair, holding his crowbar. “Alright, quick recap. Black Mesa’s gone to hell. Aliens, soldiers, and me—the world’s least qualified action hero—stuck in the middle of it. I don’t even know how I’m still alive. Adrenaline? Luck? Maybe the universe hates me too much to let me die.”

Spots a vending machine in the corner. “Oh, snacks! Wait—no quarters. Of course. Why would I have quarters? I’m a physicist, not a laundromat customer.”

Smacks the machine with the crowbar, grabs a candy bar. “Thanks, Bonk. You’re my only friend here.”

Takes a bite, sighs. “Okay. Five minutes. Then back out there. Escape or die choking on this candy bar. Either way, I’m putting in for overtime.”