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.
I'd fall for a while, comfortable, free. I could finally forget my burdens. I'd be so calm that I couldn't even perceive my surroundings, I was actually asleep, as weird as it was. It reminded me of the time I had my memories beat out of me. I was sinking, and it was comforting. The only difference was that I couldn't take control of my body, I just had to go with the flow of things. As I fell though, the thing's influence would persist, even in the deepest depths of my unconscious. I'd feel it approach me in the cold waters, warm, sublime. It would hover above me in the depths, and then it would speak. As for the voice it would use, it was somehow the most disturbing it could have been. The thing did not reserve the right to use such a voice, such a calm and inviting tone.
"It has begun..." The voice of a joy filled child would echo in the abyss.