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

It was a hard reality to face, I had to kill something that its own spawn couldn't even kill, I had been given an impossible task. As for why I was given that task, it was because I was different, I was neither man nor monster, I was something else. Though, it was too much to even ask what I had become. It would only get worse from there, it had to. In the last moments of peace I'd have, whether months or years, I'd at least make them worth it. My method of tackling the future I had decided on still didn't exempt me from dealing the situation that was in front of me. I was apparently dealing with the thing's child. I hated it, so much, yet still as I looked at her, all I felt was sadness. If it had put me through so much to become its death, what could it have possibly done to her. It was a difficult thing to ask, but I had to know, because if all I had been through was still not enough and she had been through more, what else could we possibly do to bridge the gap in raw power.


Signs Of The End