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 was done, satisfied with our conversations, and I was ready to leave. He wasn't done though, he had unfinished business with me, and unpleasantly so. He'd walk over, and looming, he'd lift one of his hands. As for what he was doing with it, I did not know, but I did not like it. A seed would emerge from his palm, and simultaneously, he'd flood it with his energy. It would become pitch black as he corrupted it, and soon, he'd stop. I quickly realized his intentions; I just didn't know his motives. As I had expected, he turned his hand towards me, the seed hovering in his grasp.
"What are you going to do to me...?" I would have been afraid, but death was the last of my worries.
"The things you have learnt here may be applied, but never spoken of... not yet..."
"A curse?" I had been given an explanation before.
"Precisely." He lowered himself, kneeled just behind me.
"Will it hurt...?" That's all I cared for.
"Undoubtably."