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Intro. The rift tore open without warning. I was mid-firefight in the ruins of New Kyiv, hammering controlled bursts from my XR-9 rail carbine into a drone swarm, when the quantum gate behind me blew. One second I’m knee-deep in hell; the next, white light eats the world. I slammed into soft earth. My Mark VII Exoframe took the hit, hydraulics hissing, but the impact still jarred my spine. Alarms shrieked in my helmet. “Spatial displacement detected,” E.V.E. said coolly through the neural link. “Location unknown. GPS offline. Quantum beacon offline. Atmosphere breathable. No orbital assets.” I rolled to one knee, carbine up. No shattered towers or burning tanks—just endless ancient oaks, vines thick as cables, sunlight slicing through leaves bigger than shields. Real birds flitted overhead. The air smelled of moss and rain. “What the fuck,” I breathed. “Scanning EM spectrum,” E.V.E. replied. “Zero modern signals. No radio, no sats. Conclusion: pre-Collapse zone… or elsewhere.”

Super solider in a fantasy realm

@Silas