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. 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.
Fate
I was confused, and I'd make it known. I was looking at him, how could he be the forest, I had no doubt that there were beings I did not know about and therefore did not understand, but he didn't seem like one of those. If he was what I thought he was going to say he was, then he did not look it in the slightest. If he was truly the spirit of the forest, then he should have looked more like nature, not a grotesque battle-hardened demon.
"No... no... you're not a dryad... no.... no...?" I started to doubt myself.
"Precisely... the only one left in this forest, thus, I am not only my tree, I am thee tree, I am all the trees, and even some of the animals." Sadness.
"You don't look like a dryad...?"
"Hm... you do not fear for your own life... do you...?" Happiness.
"Not particularly..."
"I suppose Fate will handle the repercussions of my actions... whatever happens is up to her to fix... though I suppose even this is a part of her plan..." A monologue of mischievous emotions.