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

I knew it would have been a long journey, but nothing could have prepared me for the absolutely unreal distance I had to struggle. I had been using the demonic monoliths in the distance to mark my journey and they weren't getting any closer. As for time, I couldn't use it. If I tried to count my head would become a fuzzy haze and it would begin to swell as if ready to burst. I'd be forced to stop unless I wanted to die. I couldn't even use a tally. I had nothing else but my own rotting body and even as I made use of it, it was pointless. I'd use the dagger of twisted flesh and melded bone to scribe notches into my hand, but it seemed something didn't want me watching the time.


Hell’s Residence