Before the firmament breathed life into legend, man was alone, watching the skies. After the heavens returned man’s gaze, all were fearful, fleeing that which was long sought. Revelation, destruction, and rebirth – a cycle exposed in noble fashion, with light coloring the air in crimson-red hues. It was an unheard of omen bearing unknown consequences. As kingdoms rose, empires fell, and the gods were blamed. Such became normal on Atmos, where the line between reality and dreams had long been blurred.
This is the story of Atmos’s northern continent, just before a period of hardship. An unusual time of peace was preserved despite a bloody history, yet hidden forces rebel against it, vying for power during a critical time of change. As one boy would come to understand, few would be safe from what was to come.
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In a new world, the center of mankind's greatest civilization holds an indispensable gift known as the Dream Engine. This machine holds the records of old in the form of visions that can be shared directly with anyone. All chronicled events can be viewed by anyone who wishes it, but a problem has occurred. The Dream Engine now forces these visions onto people, inserting fragments of antiquity into the dreams of many. Every bestowed experience then disappears from record as if it never existed. Panic ensues, as the valued history of man slips through the fingers of every dreamer in the vicinity. All are encouraged to document and submit what they witness, but the accounts are messy, and an even greater issue has emerged. Within the Dream Engine, there is evidence of sabotage.
The Surveyor
In a world of dreams and a realm of wonders, there was one who sat in observation, one who basked in glorious discontent, and one who experienced melancholic euphoria. Known as the Grand Surveyor of Dreams, the being sat at an enchanted console of technological complexity, peering into the dreams of his mortal visitors. He gazed at a matrix of observation frames, image apparatuses viewed on an anamorphic plane acting as portals that link to each visualization. With it, a grand dreamscape was formed.
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The Surveyor remained in isolation within an epic hub of knotted metallic tendrils. This reflective fortress in the image of a budding flower sat in a desert of neon rock and sand. An impenetrable nest, with ever-extending tentacles implanted every which way. Vines of liquescent metal, platinum in appearance and titanium in strength, moved as the land extended. All consciousness was connected by these branches of the etheric plane. All were linked to a domain where shared illusions met reality.
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The Surveyor encapsulated the visions of the many in pockets of space and bound them together, forming a near-endless world that came to be envied by the greatest of human visionaries. All the marvels of man’s imagination were made real in this spectacular realm. Freedom fashioned increasing levels of creative imaginings and majestic imagery in an evolving world of colors, shapes, motion, and meaning. The Surveyor basked in the splendor of this place, yet never remained satisfied.
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Both the creations and mysteries surrounding this being are endless. Some would consider him a progenitor of life, others, an ancient deity. He has gone by many names, all attributed by the joint guesswork of dreamers who had a millennia to piece together the truth. Despite the Surveyor's long-rumored existence, only his direct creations, those of precise skill and purpose, would come in contact with the occasional human – either to the pleasure or dread of those lucky enough to meet beyond the veil.
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