With a gesture of his optic that was similar to the human action of rolling his eyes, Wheatley took a look around, his heavy accent sounding tired. Was it even possible for a robot to be tired? Maybe after being in space this long. “Mate, there’s nothi-” His assimilative voice cut off in a robotic gasp as his body turned towards the surface of the moon. There, in the rock, was a small blue oval. But, inside the oval, was definitely not the surface of the moon. No, he was looking down at Her, and her terrifying yellow optic. Could it be considered terrifying, even if it was just a light? “Woah, woah woah, okay, this is not planned, not supposed to happen, okay, um, you shouldn’t be there. Don’t mind me, completely unsuspicious, not Wheatley, nope-” “Hello, Moron.”