A universe where no one suffers

[Chapter 1] - Who am I?

The days passed in a haze of confusion and quiet observation for Y/N. His time spent in the sterile confines of the medical bay had given him little opportunity to learn about his new surroundings, but now, with his recovery officially "complete," he had been released into the labyrinthine halls of the Herta Space Station. Yet the questions that weighed on him were heavier than ever.

Where was he exactly? What had happened to him? How did a man who had been sitting in his apartment, reflecting on a fictional world, end up in a place like this? His mind raced with possibilities, but none of them made sense.

His first steps outside the medical facility were hesitant. The sprawling corridors of the station stretched in every direction, a seemingly endless maze of steel, glass, and advanced machinery. The air was sterile, the hum of machinery and distant voices from passing personnel creating a constant background noise that filled the silence.

The architecture was sleek and imposing, walls lined with glowing panels and intricate technological displays. Y/N's gaze wandered as he tried to make sense of it all. Every part of the station felt foreign, almost otherworldly, but there was also a strange familiarity. The sensation nagged at the back of his mind, like a forgotten memory just out of reach.

His footsteps echoed in the hallways, but no one paid him much attention. The people he passed—mostly other scientists, engineers, and station personnel—barely spared him a glance. Most of them were absorbed in their work, talking into communication devices, or huddled around floating data screens. Y/N noticed the distinct absence of casual conversation or social interaction. Everyone here seemed to be driven by purpose, moving with efficiency and focus.

As Y/N wandered deeper into the station, he made a point to listen in on the conversations happening around him, hoping to gather any useful information. Snatches of words reached his ears, mentions of ongoing projects, research directives, and technical jargon that flew over his head. Whatever this place was, it was a hub of scientific activity, but none of it gave him a concrete sense of what they were studying or why.

After some time, Y/N found himself in what seemed to be a common area—an open space filled with desks and holographic monitors. Scientists of various ranks worked diligently, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of data streams.

He stopped near a central console, trying to avoid looking too lost. One of the monitors caught his attention—a map of the station, complete with sector labels and navigation routes. His eyes scanned the screen, hoping for a clue about his location, but the layout was complex. Different wings of the station were labeled with strange names: Research Sector 7, Quantum Lab 9, The Fragmentum Analysis Wing.

'What is this place?' He stared at the map in frustration. Nothing made sense. He recognized that he was aboard a space station, but the purpose of the station eluded him. More importantly, what was his role here?

"Hey, you. You're Y/N, right?"

The voice jolted him from his thoughts. A scientist had approached him, a woman with dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail, dressed in the standard white lab coat. Her eyes were sharp but not unkind, and she carried a clipboard in one hand.

Y/N hesitated before answering, unsure of how much he should reveal about his confusion. "Yeah, that's me," he replied, keeping his tone neutral.

"You're one of the researchers assigned to the lower levels, right? Under Director Meryl?"

Y/N blinked. 'Lower levels? Director Meryl? 'These names meant nothing to him, but he nodded slowly, trying to keep up the facade. "Uh, yeah, that's right."

The woman gave a small smile, clearly noticing his uncertainty. "You look lost. It's normal for rookies like you to feel overwhelmed. Herta's station is massive, and honestly, they don't do the best job of orienting newcomers. If you need directions or help finding your team, just ask."