It has been nearly 500 years since the last Solgan warship departed from the planet Maru. However, what they left behind was a completely ravaged planet with depleted resources. They left the world so barren that those who remained were mostly scavengers and carrion-eaters. Healthy individuals had either been taken as slaves by the Solgans or had fled to other planets through their own means.
Although the planet has begun to recover over these five centuries, more than ninety-five percent of it remains a wasteland. The remaining portions consist of lands slightly restored by resources brought back by explorers capable of traveling to—and returning alive from—disaster-level astral dimensions. Yet, almost all of these resources are simple and primitive; far from healing the planet, they barely keep the remaining population alive.
The plight of humanity was the tragedy of the universe's primitive races. They were just one of the ordinary species, unable to protect even their own home planet's resources and reduced to searching for materials in the most dangerous dimensions—where living for a single day meant facing a thousand deaths.
The Solgans, who exploited humanity's home planet, belonged to a Level 4 civilization. These levels were determined not by technological infrastructure, but by the highest-level biological entity the civilization could produce. Humanity, in the past five hundred years, had managed to produce only one Level 2 being. That individual had received no help from society, earning every bit of progress by clawing through life with their own nails.
Even this level was nothing more than a speck of dust in the universe. However, compared to when they were first discovered by the Solgans, it was significant progress. Back then, humans were considered a level-less, basic life form with a 0.1 rating. Humanity only learned of this ranking after the Solgan invasion began.
When the occupation started, it was the year 2050 by the old calendar. Humans knew only as much as they could observe from the sky. They considered themselves unique and special, dreaming of one day conquering the stars and planets they had recorded. This naive dream was shattered the moment the first Solgan colonial ship landed on Maru. Furthermore, humans later learned that the colonial ship wasn't even the first to arrive.
Long ago, a small scout ship had discovered the planet, reporting all its resources, racial characteristics, and technology—every vital piece of information—back to the Solgans. Humanity's state-of-the-art telescopes and satellites had failed to detect even the slightest anomaly.
The colonial ship could have wiped out this small race without them even knowing how, given the Solgans' total mastery of the data. However, that wasn't logical for them; they had come to exploit resources. The human race living there was simply part of what they categorized as "resources."
The arrival of the Solgans was like a swarm of insatiable locusts descending upon a wheat field. They were like a monster devouring everything on the planet: from minerals at the bottom of the ocean to fish and whales, from flowers on the land to the soil and trees, and from underground minerals to mountain ores.
As they took these resources, they cared nothing for the planet. Within a century, the filthiest radiation and waste brought the world to its breaking point. Even the atmospheric pollution reached extreme levels. The animals they left behind mutated into bizarre creatures due to this contamination. Moreover, these creatures would eventually become far stronger than humans, creating entirely new threats for the cornered remnants of humanity. The Solgans were aware of this, of course, but they simply did not care.
The old blue sky gave way to a gray, dust-choked atmosphere; the vast oceans turned a pitch-black ink, and fresh water sources on the surface shrank to a millionth of their former size.
A century later, Maru was no longer attractive to the Solgans. When the last ship carrying the final scraps of resources departed, it left behind a world straight out of an apocalyptic novel.
During that dark century, humanity was nearly genocided. Some healthy individuals were taken as slaves, while others fought as rebels and perished in wars. What changed the fate of humanity, in a sense, emerged during the activities of these rebels.
A human unit lying in ambush for an entire month in a small coal mine managed to capture a Solgan miner. After great effort, they forced him to speak, gaining information about the universe and the Solgans. Although they paid for this knowledge in blood, humanity's understanding of the cosmos ultimately came from these miners captured at minor resource points.
Though many Solgan miners were captured initially, humans soon realized through the information gained that resistance was futile. The occupation and exploitation could not be prevented. The captured miners were nothing more than expendable slave-minions within the Solgan hierarchy.
Dimensions were also one of the fundamental pieces of information humans learned during this period. Like the layers of an onion, there were many dimensions surrounding the universe, classified by the level of life they could sustain. Humanity learned of five basic levels: Basic, Mid-Level, High-Level, Terror, and Disaster dimensions.
Basic dimensions were the most numerous with generally low danger, housing life up to Level 3. Due to their energy levels, they were the smallest in surface area and the most sought after. They were mostly monopolized and controlled by high-level civilizations. Perhaps there were still undiscovered basic dimensions in the universe, but finding them was like looking for a needle in a haystack. In fact, if there were a transition to a basic level dimension on Earth, the Solgans would not have exploited and completely abandoned the planet. In other words, humans had never seen a basic dimension.
Mid-level housed levels 4, 5, and 6; High-level 7, 8, and 9; while Terror and Disaster levels contained threats and entities exceeding Level 9, which humanity couldn't even comprehend. However, these highest-level dimensions had something others didn't: they had the lowest entry requirements. These dimensions accepted everyone from the simplest organism to the highest-level being if the "right path" was found. This "path" was much easier to find compared to other dimensions. Conversely, the rate of surviving and exiting those dimensions was pitifully low.
Even the Solgans didn't know how these dimensions were formed. While Disaster-level dimensions were considered natural layers formed alongside the universe, other dimensions were theorized to have formed later through various cosmic interactions.
For humanity, these dimensions were the only places to gain power and search for resources. This realization sparked an endless wave of explorers. Yet, even a mid-level civilization like the Solgans wouldn't dare enter Disaster-level dimensions on a large scale.
In these dimensions, things depended almost entirely on luck. If a creature stronger than the explorer was at the entry point, it was certain death. To put it clearly, entering a Disaster-level dimension was like leaving a naked, unarmed human in the African savannah to survive among wild beasts. It was an absurd, suicidal request. No one would accept it except for the desperate—and the situation after the Solgans left was the very definition of desperation.
From the captured miners, humans learned the "right path" to enter the Nightmare Dimension and the Abyss Dimension, both of which were Disaster-level. They began entering these dead-ends in waves. However, the Disaster dimension lived up to its name; only one in a thousand returned. The number of those who returned "intact" was even lower. The number of people returning to Earth to fight for the planet was pitifully small. Furthermore, not all of them wanted to fight. Some voluntarily surrendered to the Solgans, turning into groups that hunted their own kind for their masters.
Some fled into the infinite universe using small captured Solgan ships, while some gathered small groups to hide in the resourceless corners of the planet, believing that staying hidden until the Solgans left was the best course of action. There was no unity. Communication and the internet had been under Solgan control from the moment they arrived.
When the Solgans finally left after that dark century, the remaining rebels, hidden groups, and scavengers returned to the surface. But there was almost no sign of life left. What remained were strange creatures corrupted by radiation—mere shadows of former animals, and not beautiful ones.
The only normal life forms on the planet were the resources brought back by the explorers of the Disaster dimensions. Over time, cities emerged around these explorers, and small gathering areas formed. But this vitality was often temporary. The planet's conditions had evolved to such extremes that fixing it was nearly impossible.
Acid rain ruined crops, sandstorms destroyed cities, and extreme weather shifts created even harsher conditions. Winters were now like polar nights, and summers like desert heat. Plants and animals that could adapt to these conditions were almost non-existent.
Despite these conditions, humans did not give up. For five hundred years, they managed to breed grains and normal animals suited to these environments. Unfortunately, these were insufficient for the needs of the remaining population. Even after five centuries, scavengers were common outside the cities. Many died of hunger. Compared to the glorious days of old, they were like primitive humans—even more miserable than the first ones.
To make matters worse, humans had to struggle against creatures that evolved much faster and thrived in polluted areas. They had to defend every small patch of land. Even if these creatures were killed, their corpses were inedible due to contamination. Some people tried to eat them, but the results were disastrous. Uncontaminated animals might have existed, but it was unclear where they had sought refuge, and humans were incapable of finding them anyway.
Under these conditions, the greatest luxury was a small piece of fruit or a bit of meat. Fruit was a treasure only obtainable from Disaster-level dimensions. While livestock was raised in limited areas, it was on a very small scale.
Resources for development were even rarer. No one shared these resources outside their family. Selling them was nearly impossible. Although schools were established to train people, they weren't very effective because the only place to go was the Disaster dimensions.
Even the strongest humans couldn't guarantee they would come out alive. Thus, the schools served mainly to train scientists to recover old technologies and make life slightly easier for the survivors. Conducting research on relatively high-level resources was incredibly difficult for a race whose very existence was at risk. Progress was limited.
It remains uncertain how much longer this small race can continue to survive on this planet. Perhaps searching for a new home is necessary, but no one is hopeful. The universe remains an unknown, and stronger races wouldn't leave habitable planets unclaimed. In the minds of most, humanity's final home is none other than this dying planet...