"Huh,"
Change my name? Is Steve my name? My tag says it was just changed now.
I'd better put it as a temporary name in case it isn't my real one.
[Name: Steve
The door, sleek and metallic, slid silently along the wall with a faint hiss, breaking the stillness of the sterile hallway. I stepped forward, the soles of my shoes echoing faintly against the polished white tiles. The corridor stretched ahead, cold and clinical, with harsh fluorescent lights glaring down.
Another door slid open ahead of me as if anticipating my arrival, and I moved through it.
WHOA.
The stark brightness of the previous rooms gave way to something entirely different. One look back at the white-coated walls and tiled flooring would suggest a hospital or laboratory, but this was clearly just one part of a much larger place.
As I walked out of the pristine building, the cool air hit my skin. The stark white door closed behind me and, without warning, blended seamlessly into the wall—an unnerving transformation that erased any sign it was ever there.
I found myself in an enclosed courtyard. A much larger building loomed to my left, its shadow stretching across the paved ground. The area was eerily enclosed, with walls curving upward until they connected to a blue, dome-like ceiling. The "sky" was bright and vast, but the ceiling felt unnaturally close, like being trapped under a glass jar.
With no other visible pathways, I headed toward the large building on my left.
The sound of my footsteps changed as I crossed over from smooth pavement to a textured metallic surface. The towering structure in front of me exuded a sense of authority, its surface etched with faint patterns resembling circuitry.
The automatic doors parted with a soft whir, and I stepped inside.
The interior was a startling change. The sterile atmosphere was replaced by bustling energy. People—living, breathing people—milled about chatting in small groups or walking with purposeful strides. After spending my day surrounded by lifeless walls and a single combatant, seeing this, many people felt surreal.
But these weren't ordinary humans.
The crowd was a mosaic of brown-skinned individuals, many with distinct, animalistic features. Some had elongated ears, tails swishing behind them, or even fur-covered hands. Others had more subtle details: eyes shaped like a predator's, textured skin, or horns.
I couldn't help but stare. I might not remember much, but I was certain people were supposed to look like me—normal, right?
This place resembled a school. The chatter of voices echoed in the air, accompanied by the occasional shuffle of footsteps. A few groups leaned against the walls, deep in conversation, while others hurried through the halls with books or devices in hand. The air buzzed with an odd mix of curiosity and routine.
Huh?
I guess I'm supposed to follow the directions.
The voice prompt nudged me forward, guiding me into another hallway. The walls were marked with room numbers: B, D, G. I finally found Room C after passing several doors, each one identical except for its etched label.
I stepped inside.
The room had five occupants, each as distinct as the crowd outside. Unlike the bustling hall, the atmosphere here was quiet and focused.
"Is this him?" a man with scaled, reptilian skin asked, his sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe.
"Are you number zero?" A woman, the most human-looking among them, asked with a steady gaze.
"Yes, I guess," I replied cautiously. Zero was my assigned number, so I went with it.
"He looks normal," a woman with a cat-like face remarked, tilting her head as her whiskers twitched.
The heck does she expect me to look like?
The room had a waiting area setup: five seats spaced out evenly, with only four occupied. On my left, I sat the most human-like woman. Her black hair had an unusual texture, almost feather-like, catching the faint light with a soft sheen.
Beside her was the cat lady, her pointed ears flicking slightly as she observed me. Her greyish skin was offset by black hair, and a short, restless tail flicked behind her.
To my right, the scaled man lounged back, his posture relaxed, but his reptilian eyes sharp. Near the corner sat someone who barely moved—a man with two short, segmented antennae rising from his head. His dark, chitinous body looked like it was armoured, merging seamlessly with what little exposed skin he had.
Sniff.
The antennaed man raised his head slightly, his black, bead-like eyes locking onto me.
"He's not like us," he said after a moment, his calm voice cutting through the quiet. "He's not normal. Either he's...different."
"That so, Neo?" The cat lady said, her gaze still on me. "Like I said, he does look normal. I wonder what he really is."
"What's your name?" the feather-haired woman asked abruptly, her tone suggesting authority.
"Um, Steve, I think?"
"Steve?" She raised an eyebrow. "That sounds odd."
"Hey, Aniyah, that's rude," the cat lady said with a grin. "Shouldn't we introduce ourselves, too?"
The introductions went by quickly, but their names stuck with me:
Aniyah Haruna, the leader with feather-like hair.
Zuri Issa, the cheerful cat lady.
Neo Keita, the quiet, intimidating one.
Danso Phiril, the laid-back reptilian guy.
After a bit more talk, they filed out, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I tapped my wristband, and a faint holographic interface shimmered to life.
"Where am I supposed to go now?"
"Yes."
"Map direction."
A glowing arrow materialized above my hand, pointing forward.
I followed it.
The glowing arrow guided me through a series of turns and hallways. The building seemed vast, larger than it appeared from the outside, with each corridor branching into countless others. The air was cooler here, faintly metallic, and carried a distant hum of machinery.
Finally, I arrived at a plain door that matched the arrow's final position.
"This is my room, huh?" I murmured as the arrow dissolved into nothingness.
The door slid open with a faint hiss, revealing a room that was surprisingly spacious. The walls were painted in soft blue tones, contrasting with the sterility of the previous spaces. A single bed was pushed against the far wall, its surface covered with an unassuming white blanket. To the left, a small desk sat under a recessed light, and a bathroom was tucked into the corner to the right.
The ceiling here was slightly lower, giving the room a more intimate feel, but the smooth metallic walls reminded me I was still very much enclosed.
I approached the desk, my footsteps muffled by the plush blue carpet beneath me. A single book rested there, its cover black and sleek, with the word "Guide" embossed in bold white letters.
Curious, I picked it up and flipped through its pages.
The first section outlined the functions of the wristband—or rather, the Tech Comns, as it was officially called. It explained how to issue commands, access maps, and manage basic necessities. Each page was simple and to the point, written as if the reader might have no prior knowledge.
Perfect for someone like me, I thought grimly.
I closed the book and set it back down, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
Turning toward the bed, I noticed something strange. The blanket shifted slightly, as if disturbed by a breeze—except the room was sealed. I froze for a moment, my senses heightened.
"Hello?" I called out, my voice echoing softly against the walls.
No response.
Cautiously, I stepped closer. As I lifted the edge of the blanket, a faint shimmer of light rippled across the air, and a holographic interface blinked to life.
"Number Zero, welcome to your quarters. Further instructions will be provided at 0600 hours. Rest is recommended."
The message disappeared as quickly as it appeared, leaving me staring at the now-blank wall.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under my weight. My mind raced.
Who am I? Why am I here? What's expected of me tomorrow?
Questions swirled endlessly, and no answers came.
The blue walls seemed to close in, their colour almost mocking in its serenity. For now, this was my reality—a small room in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers who looked nothing like me but seemed to know more than I did.
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, its surface smooth and unmarred. The faint hum of machinery seemed louder now, like a heartbeat pulsing through the walls.
Sleep didn't come easily.