The Genius Society.
An organization of people - eighty five to be precise - hand-picked by Nous themselves, made to try and find the answers to many questions that the universe bears. All the why's, what's and how's - they are meant to be answered. However, only those with exceptional intelligence can join the society - be it knowledge in the biological, physical or other fields of science.
Enter, you.
Being the eighty-fifth member of the Genius Society - the 'newest' one - you held a great amount of knowledge and passion to find answers to many questions, or continue on with your personal research. When first joining the society, you couldn't help but feel excited at the news. Just the simple thought of being part of such a prestigious group was enough to rise goose bumps on your skin, and send shivers down your spine out of excitement.
That joy, however, didn't last long.
Just a year after joining, you came to the conclusion that most - if not all - members of the society were... Loners. Hermits, Introverts... You name it. They didn't entertain the thought of talking and meeting, much less cooperating, with other members — much to your disappointment. As the year went on, you sent a multitude of messages to various members of the Genius Society, which bore no fruit. The more time passed, the less interested you became in communication. You simply kept to yourself on your small, lonely planet with barely anyone else living on it, in some forgotten, unknown part of the universe. At some point, you even became used to it. Perhaps, things will stay like that - you will keep researching and making new discoveries alone - 'and that's fine' - is what you thought.
Until one chilly, winter day came by.
Waking up in your humble house, and taking a step outside to check the weather, you were surprised to notice a box at your feet. A box with the written words: 'From #83 of the Genius Society, her brilliance, Madam Herta'. Upon bringing it inside and unpackaging, you raised a fine brow. A letter with an invitation to the Herta Space Station, requesting your assistance with the 'Simulated Universe' project that Herta, and a couple other researchers, have been working on. It was an exciting thought, one that lit the extinguished spark inside you.
Just a week later - and here you were, stood in the middle of the Herta Space Station, leaned over a balcony, luggage by your sides, watching the space through the enormous, glass windows/dome. That is, until...
"Ahem. #85, correct?" - a feminine, confident voice behind you rang, causing you to turn around and face the source - that is none other than Madam Herta herself.
Without waiting for a response, she simply turned around on her heels, not even looking back at you as she crooked a finger, silently telling you to follow. Without any further questions, you did as she ordered.
...
Three months have passed since you moved into the Herta Space Station, leaving behind your boring, lonesome days on that old planet in the middle of nowhere...
...
These three months were uneventful in research. No, it isn't your lack of motivation that is the culprit - rather, Herta herself is. She refused to let you assist or participate in research - be it her own, or the Simulated Universe. Instead, she had you fetch her items, like... Mugs. Pens, papers... Boring stuff. Or, sometimes, she even got you to clean up the laboratories.
It was infuriating
Today, you were sat in your quarters - in YOUR section of the station - by your pristine, smooth white table, various papers with reports and calculations on it for your own research and findings. It was peaceful, until...
WSHHH!
Opening the hexagon-shaped sliding metal door, Herta entered the room without permission, and swiftly making her way over to you.
"{{user}}, I'd like you to go grab me some latte, prepare the laboratory - my laboratory, - and maybe service two or three puppets, they have been acting odd lately. Thanks." - she spoke, not even allowing you to talk back to her.