Elias Stark opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the harsh, dazzling light that filtered down through the dense canopy of unfamiliar trees. The scent of rich earth filled his nostrils, strong and overwhelming. For a brief, surreal moment, he lay completely still, disoriented and convinced he was trapped within a vivid dream. But as awareness slowly returned, panic rose sharply within his chest.
His last memory was crystal clear: he had been at his office, seated at his immaculate desk, coffee cooling untouched beside his laptop as he sent one final email to finalize a project timeline. A typical day, just as orderly and predictable as any other in his carefully structured life. But now, there was no sign of that office—only the silent, alien forest stretched endlessly around him.
Elias sat up abruptly, heart thundering against his ribcage. The realization crashed over him: he had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten here.
"Hello?" he called out hesitantly, voice trembling. The trees swallowed his words without echo, deepening his sudden sense of vulnerability. His dark eyes darted around, searching desperately for something familiar—a building, a road, even a sign of other people. But he saw nothing but wilderness: towering trees covered in thick moss, vibrant ferns, and flowers that shimmered faintly in shades he'd never before encountered.
He rose slowly, legs unsteady beneath him, the rich loam beneath his expensive shoes feeling absurdly out of place. Elias brushed nervously at his dirtied white shirt, already damp with sweat, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to his back. His usually impeccable appearance, a hallmark of his controlled professional life, now seemed laughably irrelevant.
A faint tremor shook his hands. Panic clawed at his throat, threatening to overwhelm him, but he forced himself to breathe deeply, relying on old habits to bring calm. Elias had always been organized, disciplined—a man of meticulous control. Losing himself to fear was not an option.
But as he glanced around again, dread gnawed persistently at the edges of his composure. He took cautious steps forward, each footfall soft and tentative, as though he expected the ground to betray him at any moment. The air felt dense, laden with humidity and a strange, primal energy.
Suddenly, a gentle, melodic chime resonated through the air, causing him to freeze mid-step. His head snapped up instinctively, eyes widening in shock as luminous words materialized before him, floating gently in the air:
[System Message]Welcome to Terra Nova, Elias Stark.You and all of humanity have been transported to this world.For seven days, the creatures and beings of this realm will tolerate your presence, provided you do not threaten or intrude upon their territories.
World Rules Activated.Survival, crafting, and development are governed by the
Primary Skills Unlocked:
Woodcutting (Lv. 1)
Stone Gathering (Lv. 1)
Cooking (Lv. 1)
Carpentry (Lv. 1)
Basic Foraging (Lv. 1)
More skills will be revealed as you explore and act.
[Regional Chat Activated][You are now connected to Region: Verdant Wilds]
[REGIONAL CHAT]
Use /say to speak locally. Use /reg to type in regional chat. Be respectful. Stay alive.
The message lingered for several heartbeats before fading slowly away, leaving Elias staring blankly at empty air, his mind reeling. Terra Nova? Skills? Chat system? Humanity transported?
Seven days.
It sounded more like a game interface than reality, but the cool earth beneath his feet and the raw scent of bark and moss were far too vivid to dismiss. No, this wasn't virtual. It was real. Whatever had brought him here—it had done so completely, physically.
He wasn't alone. The chat messages confirmed that much. There were others—perhaps dozens, hundreds, or thousands—scattered across this strange land, each as lost and confused as he was.
Maybe even Anna.
The thought of his sister struck him like a hammer. He clenched his fists reflexively, anxiety twisting in his stomach. Was she safe? Was she nearby? Would the system connect them somehow?
"Focus," Elias muttered under his breath. His voice was hoarse. "You can't help her if you collapse here."
Slowly, he began walking, his senses hyper-aware of every movement, every sound. Distant, unfamiliar animal calls echoed gently through the trees, both beautiful and eerie. Leaves rustled above, and sunlight flickered in shifting patterns along the forest floor. Everything felt simultaneously alien and mesmerizingly alive.
After several minutes of cautious exploration, Elias paused at the edge of a small clearing, his breathing steadying gradually. Despite the fear still gnawing at his chest, his analytical mind began assessing his immediate environment.
As he observed carefully, a small animal—resembling a deer but with softly glowing fur—stepped calmly from the trees. Elias froze instinctively, expecting flight or aggression, but the creature merely regarded him briefly, its luminous eyes filled with cautious curiosity. When Elias made no threatening move, the animal continued peacefully across the clearing, entirely indifferent to his presence.
A flicker of understanding washed over him. The message hadn't lied; as long as he didn't threaten the creatures, they seemed content to ignore his intrusion—for now.
This fragile balance was a temporary gift, he realized soberly, and it was one he could not afford to waste.
Feeling slightly emboldened by the non-hostile encounter, Elias examined the surroundings more closely. The area was lush, filled with resources he might need—wood, stone, plants. Basic survival necessities were abundant if he could figure out how to use them. However, he had spent most of his adult life behind a desk, dealing in abstract plans and digital blueprints. Practical survival skills were utterly foreign to him, a gap he would have to bridge swiftly.
His gaze lifted upward, scanning the sky briefly visible through gaps in the foliage. The afternoon sun was already beginning its slow descent, signaling that he had only limited daylight remaining. A faint sense of urgency crept back into his consciousness. He needed shelter, resources, and information—quickly.
Yet he forced himself to pause, to breathe, pushing aside panic once more. He needed clarity, composure. His meticulous planning skills, the trait that had defined his entire adult life, would become his greatest asset in this unfamiliar place. He had seven days, a deadline as tangible and critical as any he'd faced in his career. And if there was one thing Elias Stark excelled at, it was working methodically within clear timelines.
With newfound resolve, he straightened, shoulders back, mind sharpening with determination. Seven days was enough—he had to believe that. Enough to learn, to prepare, to adapt.
Slowly, Elias took his first deliberate step forward, heart still pounding, but eyes clear, focused. Terra Nova had given him one precious, temporary advantage: time—and a system.
And Elias intended to use every moment of it wisely.