People in the galaxy suffered and died--fathers were murdered and mothers starved. Such was the nature of life in a sometimes brutal universe. The Order saw the existence of such horrors as a sign of imperfection in the nature of existence itself. For centuries, a hundred societies with a thousand different names had attempted to alleviate the darkness and pain that festered in the far away corners of the galaxy, but always more remained. No matter the intensity of their labor, there were always more people hurting, more people dying.

After watching so many good works rise and fall, The Order decided it had had enough.

The power they wielded was formidable, and they thought that if finesse and persistence could not correct the horrors of an uncooperative life, brute force was the remaining option. They gathered their strongest--the reclusive masters from all reaches of reality. They called upon their mastery of technology, and their mastery of spirit, to plan the greatest good work to ever be devised. They would alter the nature of reality itself.

Their plan was to create a utopia that stretched not just across the span of one planet, or even one society, but that would span the entire galaxy. To this end, they planned to alter the very psychic fabric of reality, coaxing it into an endless wellspring that would give each person the power to survive on will alone, and the power to shape their reality as they saw fit. They would make the universe a place not of dark, course matter, but of vibrant spirit and raw life energy.

They were not as naive as some now accuse them of being--they knew that many would simply take their newfound power and use it to create even greater evils. So they added a new factor to their plan--they would give each being a link to the consciousness of the galaxy itself, meaning each man would feel the effects of his own existence from a new perspective. Every evil he committed against another would almost literally be an attack against himself. In time, the galaxy would learn to be, physically, psychically and spiritually, in complete harmony with itself.

That, sadly, was the theory. Perhaps it would have even been a convincing one, had the Order bothered to consult anyone about it. But the others, hearing only rumors of a great plan by the Ellia, found out the hard way.

The power of the Ellia was not what failed them--nor was it their technology, nor their understanding of how to implement the plan safely. Almost supernaturally, all went just as they had willed it. Their technologies bolted out with surgical precision to shape the universe into the form they had chosen. The galaxy's energies changed; matter became spirit, soul bonded with proton, and the galaxy's own psychic power twisted and blossomed, pouring into every creature in the galaxy. But the flow did not stop there--as the Ellia had intended, the energy rushed back into the galactic consciousness, forming an endless cycle--and with it, the world, the very stars themselves, gained all the pettiness, suffering, anguish and hatred that humanity had carefully stored over countless centuries of foolishness. The Ellia had failed to truly understand the galactic consciousness--it was not just a collective mind of all the souls in the universe, or some psionic means meant to support the people of the galaxy; it was a being of it's own, vibrant and pure, and lacking the learned endurances of man. It was a greater soul than any who lived, but it was not the same. It's powers, limitless though they seemed to be, were not in enduring pain, nor in stomaching grief. People had not realized until then just how resistant they as a species were to lacerations of the spirit--individuals of their kind endure lashes and agonies that would drive any other spirit to self-destruction. And now this being, gentle and without thoughts or cares of the nature of good or evil, having never felt a sadness or strife before, had suddenly gained all the agonies, the losses, the tragedies and the regrets of every being who drew breath within it. Waves of pains it had never known before struck every fiber of it's being. And like a child who has suddenly lost her mother, it's soul cried out in shocked disbelief, and the whole of the living felt it.

That was just the beginning.

As the Ellia had intended, the line between matter and spirit had been erased. The anguish of the galaxy and it's inhabitants began to crack the very fabric of the universe. As the worlds themselves began to shudder, events unforeseen by the Ellia's plan began to occur--stars began to twist, gravity itself fluctuated, and the very nature of reality shook. This led to catastrophe on an unimaginable scale as the technological components of the Ellia's plan reacted violently to the new changes, and the Ellia themselves struggled to survive the waves of psychic confusion that seemed to emanate from every point in the universe at once--a side-effect of an entire galactic population wondering just what the hell was going on.

The situation quickly began to worsen. A sudden, intense madness began to pour from the back of people's minds, as a thousand deafening noises played themselves out in ears that heard nothing. Hallucinations and reality danced eagerly with one another as the true line between the two vanished.

On the tranquil shores of Veta, people clawed and writhed on the sandy beaches as they struggled to find themselves in a sea of screaming minds. On the jungle world of Terrestas, madness rose to a new level as people burrowed for tree-rats and delirious reptiles wondered why they couldn't key in the access codes to homes they never had. Those few with the psychic presence and wherewithal to maintain themselves through the maelstrom simply held as best they could against the horrific chaos.

In the minds of all people, reality itself seemed like it was about to crack.

And, in the end, it did.

A noise like a thousand meteors careening into a sea of broken glass wailed across the cosmos, and a thousand needles of color crashed their way through the minds of all who watched. A final shockwave hit as the galaxy surrendered to it's agony, and every creature who lived within it was suddenly struck with a sudden bolt of pain and weakness, leaving them to sigh half-formed screams as they fell to the shuddering ground.

Slowly, the chaos drained away, and the near-comatose citizens of the galaxy slowly began to regain consciousness.

They sat up and moved their frigid fingers—fingers hat somehow seemed devoid of any real motion. They opened their tired eyes and took in a world that somehow seemed devoid of any real light. Each felt as though something had been torn away from them. They felt starved, and cold, and empty. Each felt as though their soul itself had slowly begun to bleed to death.

This was not far from the truth.

They awoke to a galaxy in pieces--the fabric of space itself had splintered and split into countless shards, and strange anomalies that could only be described as glowing lacerations hung in the void of space between stars. Energy seeped from them like bloody wounds, and all who saw them shuddered, though they knew not why.

Gradually, the hollow emptiness that filled the space inside the flesh of each creature gave way to a gnawing cold--a pulsing, growing void, which began to drain away their very life.

The Ellia had given people the ability to live off of psychic essence—and inadvertently doomed them to spiritual starvation in the process.

The stricken inhabitants of the galaxy immediately set themselves to the task finding out what had happened. It was discovered in time that the attempts of the Ellia had crippled their world--their galaxy had been shot through the heart. And with this knowledge, so too did they learn of their dependance on the spirit of the stars they called home. The Ellia had linked their life force to that of their galaxy. As it's spiritual blood slipped away, so too did the energies of every inhabitant, and every living creature was slowly devouring what little was left of the living essence of their reality.

Panic ensued, and violence, long forgotten in the peaceful and gentle galactic core, erupted with a fervor unseen for thousands of years. Those who remained rational did their best to attempt a solution to their problem before all life in the galaxy faded. It was learned that the universe could perhaps heal itself in time, and that it could once again learn to support life, but that it would take far longer than the energies that currently sustained the living would last. The cycle of life and death had experienced a sudden inflationary spike in the demand for living essence.

After weeks of fevered research, it was given a number at last. Nearly 90% of the galaxy's population would have to die before the meager supply would no longer outstrip the demand. The inverse conclusion was obvious--only 10% of the galaxy's people could live. The battles redoubled, as each faction realized that to survive, they would have to destroy everyone except themselves. They would have to turn on every old enemy and ally, for only one faction could survive--if that.

You are the leader of one of these factions, a supreme commander in a galaxy that is bleeding to death. Lead your people well, or they--and you--will die alongside the rest.