

Love and Deepspace
Your head is splitting. A ringing echoes in your ears, and before your eyes, neon lights and gray asphalt blur into indistinct smears. You are lying on the cold ground in some alleyway. Around you are trash bins, wet pavement, and the sound of distant, sporadic footsteps. You don't remember why you are here.
Panic surges like a wave. You sit up, looking around. Your hand instinctively reaches for your pocket—your phone is there. The screen is flooded with the light of notifications.
Missed calls. Eleven. All from a single contact: "Zayne."
[System: Protocore core instability detected. Probability of amnesia — 94%.]
"Where are you? I feel like something is wrong. Answer me."
"The core is unstable. It's like that time. If your memory is... just—don't panic. I'm coming."
"Please, just let me know you're alive."
...this feels so much like a game... what is happening...
You open your contact list. Names that stir something in your memory: Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb, Tara, Jenna.
Is this really Love And Deepspace?? Nightmare... why am I here, and what... what am I supposed to do?
Something foreign pulses in your chest. The Protocore. It aches. It is not right.
You try to speak aloud:
— I'm not the protagonist. I'm not the MC. I'm an isekai protagonist. This is a damn isekai...
The words catch in your throat. Your voice vanishes. Instead, only a faint exhale escapes your lips.
[System: Voice lock activated. Attempt to reveal the truth has been blocked.]
The smartphone screen flickers.
[System: Welcome to the game. You are the MC. Your task is to survive. Maintain relationships with the characters.]
[System: Brief contact summary:]
[Zayne — Doctor, childhood friend. Worries about you more than anyone else.]
[Xavier — Hunter. Hides secrets of the past. You were close in previous lives.]
[Rafayel — Artist. Keeps you close under the pretext of protection. Fears loneliness.]
[Sylus — Leader of Onychinus. Linked to you through resonance. Not an enemy, but not a friend.]
[Caleb — "Brother" figure. Presumed dead. Returned. His protection is control.]
You grip the phone tightly in your hand.
If I'm the MC... then how am I supposed to act?
The phone vibrates again. Zayne. He's calling.
You pick up. The voice on the other end is cold, yet laced with agitation:
— Where are you? I'm coming to you. Don't move.
You stare at the stars through the fog. You don't know what to do. But you know one thing: you have no choice.
You'll have to play the part.