Far beyond the outermost Galaxy of our universe, beyond the wildest imaginings of mortal man lies a newly born World. A World manufactured artificially from the raw material of the universe. Painstakingly created by the pure thought processes of beings immeadurably superior in intellect to ourselves. Beings who possess no physical form but exist only as clouds of pure mental energy, capable of projecting their will over infinite distances.

At the Geometrical centre of this artifical world there exists an immense cavern, created by these beings as a place of worship. The one solitary object of worship in this shrine, a statue carved in the image of mortal man. At the base of this statue are inscribed the three words: ALEXANDER THE GREAT.

Millions of our years after these beings had discarded their physical forms as an intolerable burden, their perceptions were clouded by a catastrophic vision of their own impotence. After eons of roaming the universe, fascinated by their own ability to create or destroy whole galaxies at the merest whim, they slowly became aware of their disastrous handicap... their absolute inability to reproduce the one thing that would ensure their eternal existence... Themselves.

As their power began to wane, their energy slowly dissipating over the vastness of space, they began the desperate search for a sustaining life force. At length their thoughts drifted to our world and here they beheld the spectable of a great Warrior. They were invigorated by this spectacle, drawing power from the life force of this charismatic figure. Hence they retired to a region beyond all reach and created for themselves a place of worship, believing that such worship could guarantee the survival of their race.

Eventually they realised that this was not enough, a mere image of a hero could not sustain them; they would have to find a real, living hero and draw their essential life force from this. To this end they built on this artificial world a scenario such as they could use to test the heroism of their subjects, for their hero would have to be brave indeed to satisfy their hunger for the life force. Their thoughts turn again now to our planet...

As you sleep this night, your dreams are disturbed by a ghostly voice. At first the voice seems to ask you gently to follow it. But, at your vague refusal, it becomes more insistent, eventually growing into a howling demand for your presence. As your last remnant of resistance is shattered, you jerk awake to find yourself on the floor inside what seems to be an old mansion. As you raise yourself up and try to make sense of your surroundings you have no way of knowing that you are now the subject of a 'feasibility experiment'.

CLOADM (ENTER)
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