And… he wasn’t worried… about anything. Back home he had worried about school, then university, then work. He worried about his health; he worried about his car repair bills, his home bills, his taxes. He worried about the state of his country, the state of the world. He worried about history and its legacy, he worried about the future and the horrors it hid. He pretended not to care, not to care about everything, to hide his fears and stress behind a mask of indifference, the same one everyone wore. It was necessary; it was how he survived beneath the crushing despair. At some point, he truly did stop caring. Now here he was, in the middle of nowhere, on another world, and he had no worries anymore. And that worried him.