Solis was the main level of this inverted tower, its very core. It housed essential facilities such as living quarters, the main energy center, the surveillance and control hub, the oxygenated space, and several smaller structures.
It was the station's backbone, and its organization and management were under constant scrutiny.
Residences occupied roughly a third of this level, with the remaining two-thirds allocated to other essential installations.
The architecture was well thought out.
The residential areas were divided into multiple sectors, labeled from A to G, based on various factors.
The standard of living in Sector A differed significantly from that of Sector B, and so on.
The idea behind this setup was to reward individuals proportionally to their contribution to the station's construction and maintenance.
However, this was merely the idealized version—a dreamy, idealistic justification for the disparities present in every station.
This particular, strange, and dysfunctional system began to show cracks and fractures, threatening to bring down the entire edifice with it.
Given the population size, every two sectors generally shared a bar. Sectors A and B had theirs, as did C and D. From Sector E onward, however, each sector typically had just one bar.
That evening, in the bar dedicated to Sector F, an unusual scene unfolded.
The music continued to play its rhythm. The dim lights gave the setting the eerie air of an old horror film—back when such things still existed.
For a brief moment, no voices could be heard. Even the music seemed to take on a monotonous, irregular tone.
Moments earlier, a fight had broken out.
In reality, it was more of a scuffle than a fight, but regardless of how it was defined in everyone's minds, the outcome of this altercation provoked a unanimous reaction:
Surprise.
Altercations of this kind were commonplace, especially in a high-stress environment like this one. Add alcohol to the mix, and the results became unpredictable.
And that unpredictability had just manifested.
A man had collapsed, his blood painting the floor red.
Such an outcome was rare, even here. Especially here.
The shock was universal, and it struck the young man with emerald eyes even more profoundly.
Adonis stood just a few steps away from the lifeless body of the older man, his gaze vacant as though he were absent from the scene.
His mind trembled violently. His vision blurred for a few seconds.
Images resurfaced in his mind—chaotic and indistinct.
They were like a storm, throwing his consciousness into indescribable turmoil.
Though his bright green eyes remained wide open and fixed on the current scene, he seemed distant. Distracted.
An image came to his mind.
It depicted a cage, surrounded by bars. In the reflection of a mirror, he saw himself, trapped within, sealed tightly. The surroundings were dark and grim.
A flood of emotions resurfaced, awakening a feeling he thought had been absent from his psyche since his recent awakening:
Fear.
His mind tensed, and his hands began to tremble slightly.
The image distorted, then shifted to another—one that threw his mind into even greater disarray. His legs nearly gave way beneath him.
In the black pupils of eyes he imagined to be unfathomable, he saw himself again, covered in blood. His hands were tightly gripping someone's neck beneath him, while that person wore a mocking smile.
Ohhhh...
His mind couldn't withstand the shock, and a cry escaped his throat, breaking the eerie silence in the room.
He fell backward, visible fear and disgust etched across his face.
It was only the second time he had displayed such strong emotions since waking up in the forest.
But this time, he wasn't alone.
Eyes turned toward him—questioning, intrigued, surprised, astonished.
Adonis paid no attention. He didn't even realize he was attracting notice.
He focused on calming his mind, regaining control.
The images in his mind, though blurry overall, were clear enough to leave no doubt.
He had lived those things—experienced them, somehow. And the return of these fragments had left him shaken.
His dreams, strange and full of mystery and psychedelic concepts—he knew what that word meant—had urged him to pay closer attention to his past.
He felt as though this was the path to untangling it all.
And today, facing this cooling body, fragments of his past had just surged into his mind. It was no coincidence.
His mind was thrown into chaos he hadn't anticipated. And now, he was afraid.
Whatever his memory held, he hadn't imagined it would be such a disorienting experience. It made him hesitant, skeptical about the real necessity of undertaking such an introspective journey.
At that moment, he realized two things.
The first was that his emotions flowed with an intensity far beyond what he had imagined. He would need to prepare in advance to avoid being destabilized to this extent again.
The second realization was tied to the context of this awakening. While nothing in his normal state seemed to provoke any reaction from him, it had taken an event as improbable as the murder of someone to trigger a noticeable shift within him.
This worried him.
If such extraordinary circumstances were what notably stimulated his memory, then whatever was locked within the depths of his mind must not be underestimated.
Gradually, his mind calmed. He partially processed the fragments of memory he had regained. Around him, the atmosphere transformed as well.
After Adonis' reaction, everyone's attention quickly subsided. The familiar commotion of the bar resumed its course.
Conversations and arguments started anew, and drinks flowed once again. Life in this place returned to its usual colors.
In fact, Adonis' outburst seemed to leave a greater impression than the lifeless body on the floor.
The old man, barely cooling, was already fading from memory. No one in this place mourned him.
Adonis found himself the most surprised by the turn of events.
Someone had just died.
Earlier that evening, Adonis was certain he had seen this old man interacting with faces he now recognized in the crowd.
Yet, no one did anything meaningful to intervene. No one displayed even the slightest reaction of concern at the old man's death.
"Perhaps this is normal or commonplace," Adonis thought. The people he was supposed to keep an eye on had already vanished from his view.
Despite his difficulty grasping the nature of those around him, he still found it hard to comprehend how such an event could be met with such indifference.
How could he understand?
How could he conceive that death had become so routine that it warranted only a few seconds of attention before being ignored?
He knew nothing of them; he couldn't begin to grasp the underlying emotions of those present.
In truth, there was genuine surprise among many witnesses to the scene—but not in the way one might expect.
Over the past three years, life had been relatively pleasant for these occupants. They had a semblance of security, decent food, and a simple, peaceful lifestyle.
For most of them, they were "living well."
Whatever the flaws and discriminations of the current system, it was better than the life most had endured outside.
The outside world was a dangerous place—lawless, faithless, where even the strongest had no guarantee of survival. Everyone had fought, lied, stolen, deceived, corrupted, killed, and committed equally atrocious acts to secure a place in this station.
Seeing the old man die brought back, for a moment, memories of their own journeys and the true nature of each individual. There was no need to sugarcoat it.
Helping the old man offered no tangible benefit, only disadvantages.
Who would lift a finger in such a situation?
He could die for all they cared—it meant one less mouth to feed.
Different people had different thoughts, but Adonis couldn't comprehend any of them.
The atmosphere quickly grew lively and animated again as if nothing had happened.
Adonis decided to do the same. He had no reason or interest in acting in a situation that neither concerned him directly nor indirectly.
He moved a few tables away and began pondering his next steps.
A few moments later, a faint siren echoed.
Two individuals in uniform entered the bar, followed by a third dressed more simply.
The siren came from a floating device that followed the group. It resembled a sphere about the size of a child, with a homogeneous and regular surface.
Some people bothered to glance at the newcomers, but most paid no attention—they knew what this group represented.
The Overseers.
A group assembled when the station was launched to maintain a semblance of order, enforce regulations, and punish violators. In some ways, they could be compared to a form of "police," back when such an institution still existed.
The first two wore black striped uniforms adorned with stars on the sleeves. Various non-lethal gadgets hung from their belts, though they carried no weapons. They approached the bar, where the manager emerged to guide them to the site of the incident.
Upon arrival, the two "officers" stepped back as the floating device moved closer.
The top section of the sphere split in two, releasing a swarm of machines that scattered throughout the bar before converging around the old man's body.
The swarm of nanomachines, resembling mosquitoes, first landed on the cold corpse, then on the blood covering the floor.
Minutes passed. The body, as if lifted by an invisible force, floated into the air.
The blood on the floor had long been absorbed by the swarm. The nanomachines then solidified into a supportive platform on which the dead body rested.
The third person finally joined them. His attire was a patched-up white coat. He leaned over the corpse and examined it thoroughly.
Adonis, observing everything from a distance, eventually questioned the person next to him, "Who are these people? And what is that other one doing?"
The individual he addressed shot Adonis an incredulous look, clearly puzzled by him. Nevertheless, he responded, "The two you see watching everyone belong to the surveillance center. They're tasked with maintaining order in Solis—or rather, on the station, in theory."
"The third one is from the medical zone. He's essentially the medic for the underbelly."
"The underbelly?" Adonis tilted his head slightly in question.
His conversation partner, growing increasingly alarmed, couldn't help but ask, "You—what sector are you from? I'm a regular here, and I've never seen you before."
Adonis furrowed his brow slightly. He had inadvertently put himself in a precarious situation.
While he had received some information from Raphael before being sent here, it wasn't nearly enough to engage in meaningful conversations with others. His knowledge of this place was far too superficial.
He had been instructed to avoid engaging in conversations—to listen but not speak. Moreover, the unexpected situation that had unfolded made everyone more wary, more polarized.
Adonis realized that the wine and alcohol, which he had hoped would aid in his task, were no longer having the desired effect.
"Forget it. That was a dumb question," he replied after a few seconds, before walking away, distancing himself from the man, who continued to watch him with a questioning gaze.
The man, though finding something strange about Adonis, eventually turned away and resumed his activities, drink in hand.
Whatever it was, he had neither reason nor interest to dig deeper.
Nothing good ever came from being too curious in this world.
After a while, the medic and the "officers" completed their tasks.
The analysis was finished.
The swarm returned to the upper part of the strange floating sphere, leaving a smaller group of nanomachines to support the body as it was moved toward the exit.
The "officers" then approached the individual who had been involved in the altercation.
He was seated a few tables away, sipping his drink, as if waiting for his fate.
"Name, first name, section, and nature of engagement," the lead officer demanded, looking at the man before him with disinterest.
"Alex Mayers, Section D, Active Engagement," the man replied.
The "officers" didn't jot anything down. The sphere behind them appeared to handle that task. After a moment, they seemed to receive confirmation, and then asked, "What exactly happened? Be precise and concise."
Alex began recounting his version of the events. It was heavily sugar-coated and placed full blame for the incident on the now-deceased old man. In his account, Alex was nothing more than an unlucky bystander who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The music had been stopped. Alex spoke loudly and clearly. Yet no one pointed out the inconsistencies in his story. He finished recounting his tale and took another sip from his glass.
The "officers" nodded after hearing his account.
At this point, the story bore almost no resemblance to the truth. But who cared? Only the victor's version mattered. That was how truth was defined here.
After a moment, the lead officer spoke. "In attempting to defend your honor, your actions resulted in the death of one of our citizens, which violates our regulations regarding the preservation of life. By this decree, Alex Mayers is sentenced to a two-week ration reduction, effective immediately."
A smile spread across Alex's face. He responded promptly, "I accept my sentence."
Some who overheard the sentence widened their eyes, but deep down, no one was truly surprised.
Adonis, however, had already left the premises, uneasy about having unintentionally caused some trouble. He no longer had any reason to remain there. His mission had been largely accomplished, and he had learned much about his new environment.
He realized, however, how shallow and lacking in perspective his knowledge of his new surroundings truly was.
He would have to address that in the near future.
It didn't take him long to reach "his" residence.
…
"I think I should go now, and you should too. Your men must be waiting for you," Amanise said as she dressed, stepping out of the shower. Her damp hair cascaded over her dripping body, refracting the dim light of the room.
Her otherwise ordinary appearance seemed to shine brilliantly under such favorable conditions.
She dried her face as she walked toward the bed.
There lay a man.
The scars on his face formed a unique mosaic under the soft lighting. He wore only a simple pair of briefs, his imposing musculature on full display without inhibition. His skin, coated in soot and other minerals, had darkened in tone.
He watched the approaching woman intently.
It was Harchey.
"You've been disappearing more often lately… I'll eventually find out where you're going. It's only a matter of time."
"Oh, my dear Harchey… I didn't know you missed me so much," she said with a sigh.
"Whatever you and that pompous fool are plotting, nothing can stay hidden for long in a place like this—especially not from me," he added, his face growing even sterner, if that were humanly possible.
"It seems our little arrangement no longer suits you. Perhaps it's time we put an end to it," Amanise announced with boredom.
"Stop acting like a child. Since when does what I do with my time concern you? Just because we sleep together doesn't mean you've earned such rights—don't forget that," she added, her tone suddenly much more serious and solemn.
Harchey wanted to respond, tried to mutter something, but ultimately kept silent, swallowing the words that lingered on the tip of his tongue.
Amanise finished getting dressed, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and left the room immediately afterward.
The room fell into a soporific silence. Harchey was left alone, lost in his thoughts. In the dim light, his expression shifted several times.
...
Once outside, Amanise made her way toward the medical zone.
This area was located on the third level of the inverted station, Triax.
The space was vast, designed to accommodate at least half of the station's occupants. It couldn't compare to the residential area in Solis but came second in size.
Triax was exclusively designated for the medical zone and the kitchens. There was also the waste purification system, but it had become less significant at this scale, especially since its relocation.
This configuration made these two sectors particularly prominent compared to others.
The reason was simple: they were potentially the most vital structures of the station.
Given the evident lack of renewable resources, food production was centralized.
And the importance of health was even more apparent.
The medical zone could be considered one of the three pillars supporting the inverted tower.
This medical zone was under Amanise's jurisdiction.
"Good evening to you," came the greetings as Amanise walked through the corridor toward her office.
Unlike her younger brother Raphael, Amanise was highly sociable and well-liked by her subordinates. She had a natural charm and the ability to captivate attention. Within the medical zone, she was seen as the "immaculate princess" to whom nearly everyone was devoted.
Well, almost everyone.
Upon arriving in her office, she found a man seated in her central chair.
Unlike the others who seemed delighted to see her, this man wore a stern expression.
"Oh, my dear Shiva, how I've missed you," Amanise said with a broad smile as she entered. Upon finding him in her chair, she showed no embarrassment. On the contrary, she approached him, attempting to give him a hug.
He stood as if he hadn't noticed her and headed toward the exit.
He was of modest height, comparable to Raphael, but far less physically imposing—a contrast that was particularly notable. His skin was slightly darker than Amanise's, though not as much as Adonis's. His face was rather round in shape.
At the door, he partially turned his head and said, "Your absences are becoming increasingly unjustifiable. Things aren't going well here, so wherever it is you're going, don't forget your responsibilities. Personally, I find this sudden disregard for your duties unworthy of you. I sincerely hope you'll get back on track."
Amanise was left alone in the room. Only the hum of machinery kept her company.
For a moment, she didn't know how to respond to her second-in-command. She remained silent but fully grasped the weight of his words.
Before her was a pile of files. Shiva had prepared a comprehensive report on events that had occurred during her absence and had left it on her desk.
She smiled faintly to herself, then began to read attentively.
...
Solis, Sector F, Underbelly
A young woman was busy feeding a smaller version of herself.
The little girl, no older than three, played with her mother after every bite. Her smile was radiant, carrying all the innocence and purity of childhood.
She could barely articulate her sentences as she occasionally spoke to her mother. Her hands moved about constantly, unable to stay still. One could sense how full of life she was despite the conditions.
Upon closer observation, she was extremely thin. In some places on her body, her bones were almost visible.
Every time the sight struck her mother's vision, her expression changed for a split second before returning to normal. She tried to feed her little princess, but soon, the food ran out.
After just a few bites, the plate was empty.
She offered a bitter smile to the child, who joyfully smiled back. Inside, her heart tightened. She felt as though she couldn't breathe.
Seeing her daughter's state, she was overcome with a spectrum of emotions. Life here wasn't a smooth river—certainly safer than the outside, but easier? She couldn't say.
Raising a child in such conditions was her burden, her responsibility, and she felt as though she was failing.
And she was failing.
Barely able to feed her little one day by day, she watched her waste away.
That was precisely why she had gotten involved elsewhere, despite despising that way of life.
It was all for the well-being of her little princess.
"Mach dir keine Sorgen, Julie, Papa kommt bald wieder und hat etwas für dich dabei" (Don't worry, Julie, Papa will be back soon with something for you), she murmured as she embraced the little bundle of smiles with bright white teeth.
As if understanding her mother's words, the little girl laughed even more joyfully, waving her hands around.
This mother and daughter were eagerly awaiting the return of the father, who had been sent out to fetch milk.
But what they didn't know at that moment was that the father—this old man—was at that very moment being carried to the lower levels in a body bag, destined for cremation after an accident during a bar fight.
He would never return.
These two had survived the arid lands outside for years together.
But in this place, supposedly designed to ensure their survival, they had ultimately lost what they held most dear.
And she didn't even know it yet.