Overview
Nothing on this page is a promised feature or guaranteed to be in the game.
If you are seeing this warning bubble, here is a reminder that this project is in early development.
Anything you see here is NOT a promise or guarantee. Features on this page WILL BE ADDED, REMOVED, OR CHANGED WITHOUT ANY SORT OF NOTICE. If I find you on twitter.com saying how I "broke promises" because you saw something on this page that I removed later, I will point at you and laugh for being a dummy idiot doodoo bref dummy head, a real stinker, perhaps dare I say, a poopyhead even.
For obvious reasons, I will not be telling you the plot outline verbatim. Not only is it subject to change as mentioned above, but it's also fairly internal right now! So while this may be what is on my storyboard, it may not be what happens in game.
Exposition
The player begins the game in what seems to be a dream or a daze. They are in some facility, there's alarms blaring, things are up in flames, but there's nobody there! Fire suppression seems to be failing or missing, and the player can't help but to notice a sigil drawn repeatedly all over the walls, ceiling, and floor. [Internal note: "Play Breakout"]
The player has to find an escape, running through a set of halls that aren't (yet) on fire. As they move on, strange distortions seem to be occurring in reality itself, as if someone is trying to rip apart the fabric of spacetime. Eventually, the player enters the facility's main core, the home of its hyper-advanced computer. It's a large, circular room with a pillar in the center, the pillar is the computer. There is an avian figure in the room, shadowy, almost holographic. They are ripping the room to shreds, but it's impossible to tell why or what they may be feeling. A switch is highlighted on the pillar, some sort of emergency shutoff maybe, the player doesn't know. The player is encouraged to run to it without any other option. The avian does not care until they interact with the button, stopping the player before grabbing them and throwing them into one of the tears in spacetime.
Cut to black, then fade in. The player will wake up on the ground of a biocompatible world (* for their species). It will be dusk. Their pilot suit will be mostly offline, rubble from a personal ship nearby. They won't know how they got there, what happened, if their dream was real or fake. As they make their way to their ship to get emergency survival tools, they see that the black box is missing! As they reach down to pick up the supplies, they notice something around the neck of their suit: A small talisman, with that sigil they saw in the dream inscribed on it. They can't take it off of their person, trying to discard it just places it back onto them (no, it doesn't take an inventory slot). Thankfully, they can take it off, but so long as they intend to keep it.
As they look to the coming night sky above, they realize that there are no known star patterns. They don't recognize any of it, and without the ship in working condition, they can't use the navigational computer. Not only do they have no idea what really happened, but they are stranded in what might very well be uninhabited space. They'll need to set up a place to live, it's gonna be a long, long time...
Notes
This exposition is a huge part of the story. I'm excited being able to tell people about it's very loose and vague idea, because myself and RWGryphon (see the credits) have put a lot of thought into this.