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.
Floating Construct Of Beauty
The floor pulsated below me as if it was alive. It was unsettling, but looking at it, I was unable to avert my eyes. The black that stained the white of the gemmed floors shifted rapidly every few moments like a heartbeat. I soon got on my feet and looked around admiring the view, or I thought I would. It was desolation, absolute ruin. I had finally found the meaning of the place's name, and it was undisputable.
The space between the two pyramids was just as I had thought one way and unpredictable the next. It was the size of a city, stretching out into the distance, the other edge being barely visible, and everything in between tumbled, broken, shattered or in need of repair. The technology was particularly interesting, I had expected something similar to what I had been exposed to, but my expectations were insufficient. The way they had done things were completely different, almost unrecognizable. A word did come to mind though, steampunk.