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.
An Old Face
He stepped up on to the platform and immediately the mana moved. He was on a completely different level than myself. The mana flowed, I had to meticulously shovel the mana alone, but he moved it like water.
It flowed from my arms, legs and head and settled in my stomach. Not only did he move it, he condensed it, he forced it into a sphere the size of my fist, a black and purple pulsating mass was in my stomach. I had returned to normal, no claws, armor, razors or height.
"Done..." He did not wait for a response he stepped down immediately.
Though something rubbed me the wrong way.
"What's the purpose of my core if the mana is manifested like this compared to the rest that only gets converted when needed?" It was confusing.
"It's the nature, the rest are elemental type cores, this is a spirit type core, its use is for changing your body for an advantage, not to cast magic." The A.I's response was unsatisfactory.