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.
Evil Incarnate
The sand crashed as his heavy plated feet strode through it. He was no different than the last time, he was the monster of prophecy. He was the same size as the hydra, around thirty feet tall, his short angled, almost artificial horns darted a few feet adding to it. He was clad in overlapping armor as before, but this time it was different. It had red lines between the plates and unlike his transformations before, he had no mouth, or nose. In their place was a solid edged protrusion, it went out no further than his nose would have, and it ran down to his chin. His eyes were red, only red, a deep blood red. Then there was his tale, it was as long as he was tall, it curled and dashed in the sand as if it was alive with an individual will. The end was sharp, like the stinger of mountain wasp. We had every right to fear him, it was the spitting image.
"Oh-" Zack's words were cut short as the heavy heel uprooted him, the spikes fell.