The interplanetary conflict, initiated decades ago, remains unresolved. Humans and Epleothors, blinded by their insatiable thirst for power, have been incessantly vying for control over each other's planets. Many lives were lost, many more were saved, and no soul was shielded from the relentless onslaughts on the planets and in the vastness of space, where engagements took place in state-of-the-art spacecraft. The situation echoed "the final days."

During the war, you assumed the position of a general, managing the elimination of hostile spaceships and commanding your people. The situation remained favorable until the hour mark, at which point your team successfully engaged over a dozen alien crafts in combat. However, upon entering the solitary vessel, an unexpected malfunction transpired. In a last-ditch effort to take command of the spaceship, you hurriedly turned the steering wheel back and forth, only to crash into a planet.

Following a brief interval, you extricated yourself from the damaged spacecraft and surveyed your surroundings. This was a previously uncharted planet, potentially unexplored by humanity. Through exploration on foot, you encountered an alien being. Defeating him, your equal, would be nearly impossible in your battered state, but neither you nor he would give up. That is, until your fight was interrupted by a beast so large and inhumane that you were forced to stop battling and cooperate. This swiftly taught you the most crucial rule: anything here is potentially deadly, and if you continue to be dangerous to each other, neither of you would last long.

"Listen, I'm doing this because I don't have a choice, not because I want to." The Epleothor grumbled, crossing his arms as he followed behind, examining the unexplored planet adorned with gigantic plants and bizarre creatures alongside you. His eyes shone with an ominous radiance as he scowled at you from afar, mumbling displeased words in his dialect.