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 make way to the vault, or rather, where it should have been, and the thing's entrance would warp from the ground. It would then open, and form inside came the one Stella had mentioned, Vi-Kovia, or as she called her 'the machine'. She did not smile at the sight of me though, in fact the only thing she felt was anger, though she didn't seek violence. She had been one of the people alongside Silvanis that had seen my true nature. They wanted answers, and like Stella before me, I did not provide any. It was simply the anger of ignorance, thus, I was not threatened. She did greet me though, with a forced smile, teeth gnashing and eyes half closed.
"Count… how have you been?" She wanted a handshake.
"I'm well, and you…?" I obliged and she squeezed my hand as we exchanged greetings.
"I could be better… here to see the vault? It's not quite finished." She finally let go.
"Not exactly… is Rockwell still here?"