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, fueling the coming of Ragnarök.
Layers of Creation
We were stood in silence, it should have been serene, but after my, rather tactful questioning, the Master was a bit distraught, and I assumed it was his age. My reasoning, Orbonis' age was ludicrous, and he looked young, no more than thirty-five (35), yet, I couldn't believe the actual number. So, I assumed the clearly old man, was around a thousand years of age or so, and moved on. He'd finally look at me, and though I didn't feel contempt, or see it, I wasn't ruling it out.
"…Alright… the final technique is 'Mon'… denoted with the second and seventh letters of the language, it means, roughly, 'to kill space.' It has another name, which I suppose is quite a bit simpler, 'Bridging'. It is a way of maximizing one's movements, though, while the dangers of the other two techniques are easily discernable, this one is a bit more complex, especially for those that don't use magic." His eyebrow twitched as he slung up half his face for a smile, teeth gnashing. "Any questions…?"