WHEATLEY THAT WAS NOT A GOOD IDEA THAT WAS THE WORST IDEA.
But really, she shouldn't have expected anything less. Now she was growing frantic, alternating glances between the countdown clock and the stupid organ and the STUPID BIRD, wondering what else she could possibly do.
She was going about it the wrong way. This was a hack, that was all, a musical hack, and she needed the password, which in this case would be a series of notes. And if there was one thing she learned from the construct and his helpful flashlight, it was that brute forcing a hack more often than not got them nowhere. They didn't have the luxury of time to sit around and plug in A A A A A A, followed by A A A A A B and so on and so forth.
There had to be another clue in the room somewhere. Her eyes moved from the organ, to the bird, to Wheatley on the floor, and finally to the stinking, charred remains of the worm. Without a second thought, she skidded to her knees and plunged her hands into the carcass, hoping to find something hidden within.
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But really, she shouldn't have expected anything less. Now she was growing frantic, alternating glances between the countdown clock and the stupid organ and the STUPID BIRD, wondering what else she could possibly do.
She was going about it the wrong way. This was a hack, that was all, a musical hack, and she needed the password, which in this case would be a series of notes. And if there was one thing she learned from the construct and his helpful flashlight, it was that brute forcing a hack more often than not got them nowhere. They didn't have the luxury of time to sit around and plug in A A A A A A, followed by A A A A A B and so on and so forth.
There had to be another clue in the room somewhere. Her eyes moved from the organ, to the bird, to Wheatley on the floor, and finally to the stinking, charred remains of the worm. Without a second thought, she skidded to her knees and plunged her hands into the carcass, hoping to find something hidden within.