At the front of the 8th Industrial Revolution, manual labor has seemingly taken hold in the wake of what was once automated by entirely automated cities. This would be a consequence of a strange powdery metal only recently unearthed that caused nearly anything inorganic to quickly degrade. The most coincidental thing following this was both how easy it was to excavate using only the hands as well as the strange property of regenerating the deposit. Due to a lack of proper explanation, as well as applications that will become relevant later, workers gave it the nickname 'pixie dust' or 'sandstorm'.
For most workers down in the mines, this would be nothing more than a dream job as it would be the same as putting sand into a bucket and calling it a day. However, to no one's surprise, the working conditions were less than favorable, the pay was less than ideal, and the quotas were less than reasonable. If it were not for the automation of nearly every other job in the planet, there wouldn't be such an insane demand for such a low requirement job. If you had hands, you could work down here. There wasn't even a need for an interview. Walk in, ask for a bucket, give them your name, and down you go.
As for the applications of this stuff, it was nothing short of insane. Due to its regenerative properties, science had found a way to apply it both medically and practically. There was always food and water, albeit they both tasted somewhat strange, but no one was going to complain in the face of going hungry or thirsty. Structures were designed that never worn down or stay damaged for very long, as well as clothes that virtually lasted until they were out of fashion or even dirty. Trash and refuse were mixed with this metal to make endlessly recyclable material. Sicknesses could be cured by a form of 'universal treatment' where they'd replace diseased parts with synthetic versions laced with this material. The military had found instant use in this for explosives that could quickly turn enemy machines into nothing but dust. Widespread wars for this new material would soon cause massive clouds of nothing but dust to scatter everywhere, where this dust would make more dust until nothing else remained. This was the origin of it's first nickname, Sandstorm.
None of these compared to how it was used in the recreational sectors of life. At first they had attempted to mix it with other drugs to make the drugs last forever, but found their potency reduced and effects greatly diminished. Instead they found inhaling this substance as a vapor or injecting it as a liquid would produce genuine out-of-body experiences.
From the perspective of the user, they would see themselves on another world or another land, often describing their encounters in unbelievable manners with the sole exception of one fatal rule. When using this substance, through means unknown, it would create an exact copy of your body, place it in another world, and link both your senses and your mind. For example, the user may find themselves experiencing the weightlessness of space and the freedom of of movement, while also feeling the concept of suffocation and the mind-shattering idea of death. You could experience the feeling of hunting a wild animal, or the feeling of being hunted by that same animal. For the most part, these experiences were all good save for the few extremes, and had created massive dependencies for those no longer content with their own reality.
As for those in the mines, the story was different. Working in harsh conditions causes the material to become dust in the air, forcing the workers to inhale it through their lungs and for it to get into their eyes. While not in its pure vapor form, the effects of what would otherwise be a drug was not as pronounced for them as it was for those on the surface, but often the workers would contract complications. Over the years of working in these pits, cases would arise where workers would simply fall over and perish, both from the working conditions and from having a second skeleton within their body. Those who would survive long enough to get out of that terrible place would find themselves with a few too many bones, maybe an extra limb, and memories that do not belong to them.
These memories were the worst of the worst, of a place that seemed to stretch on forever, and of a life that never seemed to end. Most of these workers would end up screaming themselves awake until they couldn't take it anymore, where they would simply wake up in that dream again. There they will remain forever, permanently a part of the worst story ever told.