The year is 3007. The civilizations of Minecraftia have taken vast strides toward becoming a space-faring people. Their innovations have brought them hand-held terraforming equipment controlled through mental interfaces, heated blades of pure energy, and the capacity to synthesize specific elements from others in massive quantities. The thought of immortality has become less of a fanciful notion of science fiction, and more akin to a true fact to consider. At the same time, however, their governing bodies have become authoritarian and fascist to control these boons, whether it be for better or for worse. At the turn of the last century, a project known as the Creator Prospect was launched. Three colonizing expeditions were launched to a neighboring solar system over 2 light years away, to the planets of Aeolus, Thereon, and Abraxas.

You were placed on the Hand of Notch, the vessel headed for Abraxas. That was 10 years ago now. You and your peers have successfully established a thriving colony on the planet, and the second generation of your colony is emerging. Over 4 years ago, the leaders of the colony reported their success with establishing the community, and due to the vast space between them and the homeworld, only now, 4 years later, was feedback received. A strange signal was detected, undoubtedly from the homeworld, but it's contents were bewildering; A cryptic series of codes that couldn't be deciphered by any means. Disappointed by such an underwhelming response to their accomplishments, the colonial leaders sent another message about 2 months ago.

It was only 3 weeks ago when disaster struck. The Hand of Notch began to experience minor bugs and kinks, such as malfunctioning doors and lights. Then, the ship sealed off all access to the nexus at the center of the ship. The colony itself began to exhibit strange behavior as well. Soon, the digital co-pilot voice of the ship began to speak on its own, communicating more indecipherable codes to the colonists.

The leaders of the colony once again met to formulate a solution to the problem, and it was decided that they would attempt to breach the nexus and shut it down. This would mean losing all contact with neighboring colonies as well, but the desperate people of Abraxas were undeterred by this fact. A team of engineers was sent into the Hand of Notch to cut off power to the core of the ship. Several hours passed, and the team was not heard back from. In the late hours of the night, several housing units within the colony exploded violently, arousing all of the colony in the wee hours of the morning. The security droids began firing on the colonists, and all hell broke loose.

In a panic, you donned your equipment and cleared the gates of the colony, never once looking back. Taking refuge on the lifeless valleys of Abraxas, you simply lay against the dusty ground and fell asleep, dreaming dreams of despair.

When you rise from your sleep, the turf on which you had slept is tough, yet flexible. You open your eyes and find yourself in the midst of a landscape of metal trees and computerized verdure. In the sky hang large hexagonal plates of energy, signs of a barrier of energy. You ascend to the apex of a nearby mountain, and observe the world around you in awe. Abraxas has become an artificial planet.