The year is 3000—an era where human technology has ascended to unfathomable heights. With hyper-modern transport, supercomputers, and state-of-the-art teleportation and interstellar travel, humanity has become the undisputed sovereign of every planet they tread upon. Yet, in stark contrast to this surreal advancement, human society is fractured by a brutal hierarchy. Wealth and lineage are the sole gatekeepers to technical training. In a world of machines and tools governed by elite minds, the displacement of manual labor was inevitable. Only those with the intellect—and the capital to sharpen it—can survive by their wits; the rest, those lacking the financial means to afford education or equipment, are crushed into the bottom strata of society.
Thus rose the "Towers"—enclaves of corporate overlords who wield absolute power. They have carved out "containment zones," herding the destitute into the "Factories"—decrepit industrial slums devoid of the very machinery that defines the age. Here, those denied the chance to learn are exiled into the depths. They live primitive lives on meager energy rations, enduring a bone-chilling cold that gnaws at their souls. They toil relentlessly in power plants that feed the glittering spires of the developed zones, yet their own sectors remain shrouded in darkness, unable to produce even enough electricity for a single bulb. In exchange for their slave labor, they receive a pittance barely enough for basic survival. Treated as nothing more than cattle, the dwindling population of the Factories is further plagued by theft, addiction, and despair.
At Factory Tris, amidst the ruins and desolation, ghosts of people drifted by—gaunt, disheveled, clinging to life by a rhythmic, shallow breath. They were the exploited, the hollowed-out, facing famine and disease as a daily ritual. This harrowing sight burned into the eyes of a young man. A sharp pang of sorrow twisted in his chest as he whispered a vow to himself:
"I will save this place... I have to."
Suddenly, a searing pain erupted in his head. His vision blurred and narrowed. Before he could react to the violent seizure of his body, darkness took him, and he collapsed onto the hard earth.
When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in a void of pure, blinding white. Facing him was a silhouette—a tall, statuesque woman. Her voice rang out, echoing through the distorted silence of the space:
"Do you truly wish to save the place where you were born?"
The question startled him. She knew his intent before he had even uttered a word. He stammered, caught off guard by the strange encounter:
"I... I do. But why...?"
"Then will you accept this responsibility... Hero?" she continued, disregarding his confusion as if she already knew his answer. "Take up the sword and overcome the trials this world sets before you."
"Seek the answer. Save this world, and in doing so, save your own."
He struggled to grasp her words. "What do you mean, 'this world'? Why me? And what 'Hero'?" The flood of information was too much to process, and the being standing before him in this surreal void felt anything but trustworthy.
"Who are you? What do you want from me?" he demanded.
"I am Stellar. I am the God of this world."
"Your task is to save it from a calamity that will strike in a few years' time."
"Calamity? Why should I save a place I don't even know?"
"Because it will provide the answer to saving your own homeland," Stellar replied.
The answer left him stunned and skeptical. What kind of answer could possibly be found here? His mind spun faster.
"The answer? What is it? Will it really help my people have a stable life? Can it stop them from dying?"
"Find the answer within my world. It will grant you exactly what you desire."
"Find it? Don't give me that! Are you trying to trick me? My people are dying right now, and you want me to play some game of interdimensional travel?"
"Power," Stellar answered, her tone remaining unnervingly calm.
"Power?"
"Acquire the power to overthrow everything. Is that not enough?" she asked with chilling indifference.
"What are you saying? You expect me to take this single body and wipe out everyone in the Towers?"
"Exactly."
"What the—"
Before he could finish, a heavy sensation dragged him down. His vision plunged into blackness once more.
The thin wail of a newborn broke the silence, followed by the jubilant cheers of a few people.
"Oh heavens! Is this my child? He's beautiful!"
"I'll name him Rolland! What do you think, dear?"