I was sitting in a chair, nursing the worst headache of my life.

  Once clothed, I had wandered the room, trying to make sense of where I was. No luck.

  This room contained a collection of weird instruments that seemed right out of a Star Trek show, with none of them working. The screens dotting the walls, the machines in the room, nothing was powered.

  Nothing was working. The room had light and I could hear the soft humming of air conditioning, or life support for all I could tell, but apart from that, everything was powered off.

  Even the medical pod I awoke in was now unresponsive. It had a control panel that insisted on staying dark and lifeless.

  Of course there was the huge iris door leading outside, but I was not ready to leave yet. Maybe I was a coward, but this was the room I awoke in and it was, in a way, very comforting. It was my space. I knew I could not stay here forever, but I needed to gather my wits before going on.

  So I sat on a chair and tried to remember.

  My name was Nicolas Beaumont. Excellent, I know my own name. Well, that's encouraging. Great start. I resided in Lyon, France, in the twenty-first century. Wait. I surveyed my surroundings. This doesn't resemble the twenty-first century. Not even close. I worked IT for a small firm. Still doesn't align with my present whereabouts. What was I engaged in before awakening?

  A stabbing ache cut through my forehead. Fantastic. As if this situation wasn't confusing enough. I groaned quietly and adjusted my position in the chair. Battling the throbbing pain, I attempted to recall more details.

  What was I doing before I woke up here? I recalled falling asleep. Not in my bed, on a sofa. Right, that's something at least.

  Ok, I was at a friend's place. We were …

  Hold on, we? Who's we? I'm single, no relatives since my parents died in that car accident. So who...?

  The pain was excruciating, but gradually, I recalled. God, my head feels like it's splitting open. There was a game called "Life Among the Stars," and it was the best game ever. The best escape I ever found. Not just a space exploration game. It was a full universe simulation. A place where I could be someone else entirely. Players could be pilots, mechanics, engineers, politicians, cops, criminal lords, or waiters at a local food joint. Everything was possible and whatever your choices, the game would create interesting encounters, events. Unlike real life, where things just... happened to you. Their motto was "Among the stars, your life is always exciting and rewarding". I was a player. In a guild. More than that. So much more. It was like a parallel life, with a surrogate family. It consumed every aspect of my free time. Yes, I remembered. I was obsessed by it. Thirteen years of my life poured into that virtual world. That's how I found my friends, my surrogate family.

  But what was I doing? What was my last memory before waking up? Panting, beads of sweat crawling down my spine, I focused with everything I had.

  There was a convention. In Vegas. I was so excited to go there with the full gang, all of us together, for the first time. The core members of the guild. We traveled there together and a guild mate, residing in Vegas, hosted us.

  Ok, right. It's coming back. Come on Nico, focus. It was the conclusion of the opening day. After the keynote and panels, we grabbed dinner at a great place, then headed back to our host's place. We were so excited, we talked late into the night, then retired. I enjoyed it so much.

  And afterward? Nothing? Really, nothing? I went to sleep on a couch on Earth and woke up here. Literally. That's... concerning.

  I grimaced. It felt like a blade twisting in my skull. I sensed cold perspiration on my spine. I had fallen asleep on a sofa and awakened here. And nothing else. Nothing. Complete blank. That can't be good.

  Feeble, trembling, I stayed in that seat for several minutes, absorbed in contemplation. Come on, Nico. Think. What happened between Vegas and... whatever this place is?

  Suddenly, an idea struck. I slowly got up and started to walk around. I reached the door, then turned around. And it clicked. The view from here was very familiar. This was an exact match of the view I had when entering my personal station’s medical bay in the game. The surgery station in the middle, the medical pod against the wall.

  I looked at my outfit and recognized the outfit characters wore when respawning in that same pod after dying in the game.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  This is not possible. It’s a prank. It has to be. Someone with absurd resources decided to recreate my station and put me in there. My legs gave and I found myself sitting on the floor, my back against the wall.

  This looked exactly like Hyperion Deep, the space station I had built in the game. No, this is stupid. Nobody I know has this kind of money. Plus, I don’t know that many people. But we were in Vegas with the whole guild. If there's anywhere for crazy shit like this to happen, it's Vegas...

  — o 0 o —

  I have to know. I stood up and faced the door and reached for the small pad on its side. When I touched it, it lit green and, with a hiss, the door opened. Yay, at least the door has power. Otherwise it would have sucked big time.

  The triangular panels slowly retracted, just like in the game. I remembered finding the animation really cool but annoyingly slow. Well, in real life, it was even more mesmerizing and also even more frustratingly slow. I found myself becoming impatient, eager to step into the next room.

  Before it was fully opened, I started to see the other side. It was a long corridor. The floor was the same metallic tiles as the medical bay but buried under a thick layer of dust. The medical lab had been pristine. This corridor clearly hadn't seen maintenance in years. If this part is abandoned, what about the rest of the station? If this was really Hyperion Deep, it was a space station. And space stations require maintenance. What about life support? I fidgeted, impatient for this door to finish opening and get more answers. Iris doors are super cool in movies and games, but truly a pain in real life.

  But once it fully opened, it was worth the wait. From the waist up, walls and ceiling, previously hidden, were completely transparent, offering a breathtaking spectacle.

  Space. Endless emptiness. Absolute black with pinpoints of light. Countless stars. And asteroids, and a planet, an actual planet was floating on one side, hanging in the air. It was surreal.

  I could not control myself, so I entered the corridor and pressed myself against the transparent wall. It had a softness, a slight elasticity, yet felt solid when I pressed harder. Cool to the touch, but not as cold as I would have expected something in contact with the void of space.

  I wondered at what it could be made of, but mostly, my eyes were glued to the planet hanging above me. It looked very much like Jupiter, but green and blue instead of mostly variations of orange. I spent minutes admiring the swirls of gas around the many bands. My head kept turning. Up and down, right and left. My neck started hurting but I did not care. This cannot be a prank. At this level of detail, it has to be real. I could see a path of asteroids in the sky, slowly tumbling, forming a faint ring around the planet. I had a goofy smile on my face. My legs were moving on their own, the weak and shaky steps forgotten.

  This is so cool! I wish the others were here with me. My shoulders dropped a bit at that thought.

  Reluctantly, I stopped admiring the gas giant and focused on the rest of the view.

  I was on a moon or asteroid. Probably an asteroid, since the base seemed to be in the planetary ring. I could see the regolith and the craters dotting its surface. Craters upon craters. Rugged terrain, edges made sharper by the light.

  I moved to the other side of the corridor. Two small asteroids were slowly moving above, slowly tumbling in a complicated dance. I wondered if they were orbiting my small asteroid or just moving in the same direction.

  Slowly, I went further in, each step leaving footprints. I felt like a kid visiting the zoo for the first time. Everything was a wonder, I wanted to see it all, not miss any detail. When I reached the end of the corridor, I had to force myself to open the door and leave this wonderful view.

  — o 0 o —

  I went through more corridors, all with the same breathtaking view, connected by small functional rooms acting as nodes.

  It was a small labyrinth but I navigated it on autopilot. The layout matched exactly Hyperion Deep. I found the geology lab, the engineering bay and a few other rooms. All showing the same signs of abandonment.

  It was unnerving. I felt a knot in my stomach and, at the back of my mind, a small fear was growing.

  Am I alone? What happened here?

  In the game, the station hosted a dozen characters, created and managed by the game’s artificial intelligence. Scientists managing my labs, technicians taking care of my ships, caretakers, and a security officer.

  Where were they?

  Slowly, methodically, I was making my way toward the foyer, the heart of the station. I was in the research wing and explored every room on the way to my final destination: the foyer. My anxiety was rising after each empty lab. After almost an hour, I reached the doors of the foyer. They opened automatically when I reached them, leading me to a huge room.

  The room was vast and open, a feeling increased by the transparent walls on one side and half the ceiling. I stopped mid-step, impressed by the view. The feeling of openness to the void made me shiver. It was incredible.

  Just like every other room since leaving the medical bay, years of neglect had claimed every surface. The lights were dimmed, just bright enough to navigate but casting everything in shadows. Anything could hide in here. If a dangerous monster hides in there, I’m screwed.

  “Hello! Is anyone here?”, I said loudly. My voice surprised me and made me recoil. In this silence, it felt intrusive, too loud.

  I stayed frozen, heart pounding, listening for any sound, but heard nothing more than the faint hum of life support.

  The centerpiece of the room was a sunken seating area. Curved couches were arranged in circles around small tables that had small touch pads. The sofas looked comfortable, upholstered in a deep blue fabric, though the coating of particles had faded its vibrancy..

  Beyond the lounge pit was a dining area, with a huge oval table and several smaller ones. I remembered pestering my guild mates for difficult quests to gather the necessary components for those. They were of the highest quality in the game. I now wondered how they would compare to the actual craftsmanship of this world.

  Next to the table area was the kitchen. A long countertop above many drawers, with several sinks and ending with an imposing cooking appliance. Above and below the counter, numerous cupboards and storage compartments lined the walls. What should have been mirror-bright surfaces were now coated and dim.