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, fueling the coming of Ragnarök.
It had been a while since I had been pulled into my mind, and as such, that alone was enough to throw me off, but, experiencing being at two places at once inside my own mind confused me, and rightly so.
As I moved though, the me I knew, the other stayed still, and turning to face myself, I saw it, me. There was nothing different about it, it looked like me, exactly like me, no extra eyes, or different eye colors, nothing. It was just, me.
I was the monster. It made all the sense though, what I had become to escape the pits of despair, was me, I just thought the transformation was what defined that part of me. I could no longer think such naïve thoughts as I looked at myself though.
"You have nothing to say to me…?" I found the difference.
It was my voice, but the legion that was behind my every word, was like a sea, one in the middle of a storm. It was only a caricature of my voice.