Chapter Text
There was once a time where no mortal had yet set foot on the land. This land was inhabited by the divine - the immortal, impossible gods that ruled the world however they saw fit. However, the divine did not always get along, and thus after many, many spats of conflict, they decided to go their separate ways. Some ascended to the Aether, others descended into the Nether, still others refused to agree and thus were banished to the End. What we now know as the Overworld became the middle ground for the divine to meet and wander freely.
And then one day, a person arose from the dust. This person had no name, no home, and no one else to guide them - only whispers of the past and the remains of the gods that came before them. This was the first mortal.
This mortal spent their days adventuring, wandering from place to place, surviving in the Overworld as best they could. They soon gained a taste for travel, for wanderlust. They could never settle down even if they tried - they wanted, needed to explore. So this mortal went to the ends of the earth in their attempts to quench that thirst.
Eventually, during their travels, this mortal was struck by a terrible illness. As they lay dying, the deities of the various dimensions gathered around them, distraught that their only mortal was finally meeting their end. So with their combined powers, they made it so that even if a person dies, they have the choice to come back.
This mortal, however, was changed by the incident. Dying was so horribly, horribly painful, they decided to retire from adventuring entirely. They chose a name and settled down on a remote island.
Time passed. This mortal, now known as Atlas, passed the days of their now quasi-immortal life by farming, building, and thinking. Occasionally, they brought worship and service to the gods when required, but other than that they were on their own.
It seemed like a rather peaceful life, until the divine beings from the Aether came down with a prophecy of the end of the world. They warned that a rogue beast, a vengeful divine not from anything they knew, would come and swallow the world as they knew it - in an incident known as the Aphelion. There was no way to stop it, but there was a way to postpone the destruction.
Around this time, others started showing up. Other quasi-mortals, players of the game, hands of fate. As there was no one else around to show them the ropes, Atlas took it upon themselves to guide them through the world and warn them of the dangers of the coming apocalypse.
But with each passing day, the Aphelion lingers over our heads…