"My world..." It was unusual for Kyouya to think of 'his world' being something much larger than the experiences of his sixteen years. He put aside the strange name coincidence for now (although few things were true coincidences), and considered the question.

How to describe it? "As I said before, we have no supernatural powers... and we have no gods, not as far as material evidence goes. While there's battle, the people who are fighting aren't the ones who change the world—not really. That sort of power is in the hands of those with wealth and influence, and they of course leave the grunt tasks to others." He gave a slight laugh. "Sort of like your gods in Heaven, I suppose."

Kyouya's tone reflected no resentment or ruefulness. If anything, it was a touch of homesickness. He hadn't been here for long, but another week wasn't going to change his wish to return to the ways he understood.

"In short, an unremarkable world. The lives of 'mortals' must seem very small to you," he mused.