Thousands of years ago, in a world filled with magic, there existed a race of "humans" who dominated the land, humans with technology and knowledge of magic that allowed them to dominate and create enormous civilizations, but who also caused their own extinction. No one knows how it happened, the answers were lost in time, but in the end, humans had fallen by their own hand and their race became extinct, all that remained were the echoes of the past, ruins that were once constructions worthy of gods, and in them remained what were once their inhabitants, once human, they were now zombies and skeletons that attacked everything that came near and roamed at night looking for prey, without a mind or conscience beyond simply killing, the other part of humans had become monsters, by surviving they mutated until they became horrible beings called "endermen", there was nothing left of what once was the human being...

Until one day

Thousands of years after the catastrophe, a primitive civilization of villagers began to experiment with these creatures, trying to find a cure to restore their own species since it was common for their habitants to end up being infected by zombies. So it was that one day, in the middle of an experiment, a zombie of the ancient race managed to escape, scaring the villager who was experimenting on him and causing him to accidentally drop an unknown posion on him, unaware that this would be the cure.

Steve, that's what they called him, the only human left of his kind, someone who could no longer even remember his own name... Steve spent his days wandering the world, building to distract his mind from the thoughts that tormented him, wondering if he really was the only thing left from the past.

One night like any other, Steve was taking a walk around the outskirts of his cabin, he had forgotten to chop firewood for that night so he would would use his walk through the cherry forest behind his home for something useful.