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.
Possibilities
The doors slid open and I was confronted by yet another hallway, black and empty, this time with only three doors. One to the right, another to the left and the one we were headed for in front. It was black like all the rest, though the place where it stood out was the mural of a golden dragon soaring, it was familiar, too familiar.
The door opened on its own swinging open as we approched. Inside the room the design was the same as the dorm. White walls, wooden floors and a large glass window, though it was in fact an office. The lone wooden desk stood in the center of the room, a chair accompanying it, before and behind, on top of it was a computer, one like what Ms. Francis had.
To the sides of the room were weapons, spears, halberds, swords, guns, daggers, maces, it was all there, hung up, like a storage room.