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 stepped on to the sand reluctantly, I was angry, and the anger I held was not my own. To use his power was not free, it had a hefty cost. The very mana that flowed through my body like blood now irritated me, encouraged me to kill. I wanted to use more of it's power, but it wasn't that simple. To use more made me angrier, made me out of control, it made me think everything was out to get me. In that moment I had used so much that the people I saw were no more than blurs, along with the rest of the world. If I did not figure something out then I would end up going on another rampage. It would have been my third.
"It's almost like... you can force it into a ball and stow it away somewhere... crazy..." As my voice sounded with reason, I followed what was basically instructions.