Stations in Metro 2033 act mechanically as rest stops, areas of relative safety and quiet underneath the hostile surface. In a world as unforgiving as the one portrayed, stations should, in theory, evoke a feeling of comfort, allowing for a much-needed exhale. But when residing in the stations littered throughout the Metro, I never felt anything close to it.
Humanity has been wounded, forced to live in the tunnels and stations beneath the great cities we once inhabited. It’s tragic, but it’s a self-inflicted wound. The result of a cycle of violence continues rampant. Despite the dire state of the world, people still find reasons enough to kill and wage war against one another. It pains me to see the continued prevalence of violence within the Metro. Yet, I feel a far greater pain from my fear of perpetuating it further.
Despite my realization, confronting this fear is unavoidable. The mission entrusted to me is one of violence. My home station is under the threat of a mysterious group of entities, and their extermination rests on my shoulders. In the face of my aforementioned fear, the mission’s noble appearance relieves my concerns. Ultimately, in the unforgiving tunnels where survival takes precedence, the appearance of the goal becomes more important than its possible outcome.
But upon entering a station, I’m met with the unfamiliar feeling of safety and quiet, allowing doubt to torment my mind. It forces me to make a decision. If I give in to my feelings of doubt, I’m left directionless. Feeling hopeless to find any solution other than violence, I accept its simplicity. And in my acceptance, the doubt subsides, but as the doubt leaves, guilt fills the hollow vacuum it left.
