SIR_NoNChalant

He hasn't had the best life, in fact, some would argue that his life couldn't have been worse, but there's still hope, even for a nihilist. As when an expedition to colonize the moon quickly turns into a disaster, he is swallowed whole by an anomaly and spat out somewhere completely different.
Here one can conjure flames with words and summon thunderclouds with a shout, but it's not all fantasia and ecstasy. The world seemed peaceful enough, but as he learns more and more. He realizes everything he sees is a facade, and what's truly underneath is a civilization built on blood and war. In fact, the whole world is in a state of war. 
Then to top it all off, solidifying that he has truly jumped out of the frying pan and into the furnace, Ragnarök is fast approaching, and there's no certainty that he'll survive, that anyone will survive.

EFFORIA WORLD AT WAR

As we walked through the crowd, or tried to anyway, they stepped out in front of us. They seemed to know who I was, not that it surprised me. I was surprised they weren't scared of me, of what I could do, of what I was, of what I could turn into. They looked me down, both of them. The first was a boy who was almost as tall as I was, missing about five inches. The strange thing about him though wasn't his contrasting jet black hair and sea blue eyes. It was the four arms that stuck from his back like a porcupine's needles, each went in its own direction, though symmetrical.


I Didn't Hurt You