They found a way to help a young who is dealing with severe social anxiety be able to get out a little at a time. A set of augmented reality goggles that gave everyone a friendly capybara look. And if crowds get too loud, it muted the noise to a soft muffle except, of course, for anything that might be dangerous. --BKF
When the demolition crews were carefully pulling the place to pieces, they called it Rabbit Warren Station. Not that it was any of the above. It wasn't a station. It had no docks, no administration nor management. It had no plan nor unified purpose. It was merely a bunch of hulls loosely welded together into one labyrinthine whole.
People didn't live there. They survived there. Each one discovered was offered help, and taken away to therapy and rehabilitation. Those born there didn't handle it well.
In the rehabilitation environment, Juvenile Human Zii curled himself up in a corner, and a shelter improvised from the cellulose mattress. It took his therapist a week to work out that he was too familiar with the intensely close spaces of Rabbit Warren. A literal maze where one could go days without seeing a fellow inhabitant. Therefore, people and open spaces stressed him the flakk out.
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