EFFORIA WORLD AT WAR
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.
A Blood Filled Sky
I knew how to use the thing's power, but without its help, I would have never been able to use it to such a scale. It would force me to stand up, to transform into a spawn of hell, into something that could withstand the journey. I'd focus on the specs of blood across the sea, and wait for it to push me, to be done with me. It had more to say though, and I would be forced to listen, not that I cared, I was leaving either way. I knew where I was and thus, I knew how to get back, I was finally free, physically anyway.
"I will send over an ambassador at some point in the future, be ready as your people might not be as welcoming to our kind." It was right, I had even experienced it firsthand.
"..." I'd attempt a response, but my form could not speak.
"I'll assume you know what you must do."