EARTH.
>You are sitting at home, doing nothing in particular. Fiddeling with your stuff in your room.
>Suddenly (and this always happens suddenly) your phone rings, playing a chiptune ringtone you made yourself couple years ago when you were into "composing music".
>You hear your dad's voice and the first two words immediately put you in the state of stupor.
>"Good day, son.."
>Good. Day.
>Several years ago while having a talk about... you don't really remember - kidnapping maybe?
>Anyway dad shared a neat trick with you.
>If you are ever in danger, or have someone closely listening to you, or are just being dead fucking serious right now - you start the conversation with an inconspicuous password.
>Someone knowing it will not ask stupid questions when hearing it and will understand from content that you are under pressure (Good day, I'm fine means something is very wrong) or he needs to do as you ask and it's very serious.
>And here you are, hearing these exact words from your dad.
>"Good day, son. This is an automatic message. You need to act quickly. If you are at home immediately run to the device as fast as you can..."
>Phone held close to your ear you jog to the first floor, where the "lab" is located.
>Dad's lab is in the middle of the house and is surprisingly comfy.
>Taking up just the middle of the room, the device - dad never managed to give it a proper "cool" name - stood proudly, glistering with shiny metal parts, hooked up to a handful of computers.
>Papers litter the room, a workbench covering one of the walls is the most tidy place in all of this mess, the tools carefully organised (only a couple scorch marks spoiling the idealistic image)
>"...Once you get there follow these simple instructions. It will launch the device into a random universe as I still have not finished the way to establish a beacon distantly. Once done the process is irreversible and you need to leave the house and run as far as you can and hide."
>As you press a couple buttons and pull a lever - simple instructions indeed, the machine hums loudly and you run towards the front door.
>"...The transportation should occur around the device in a sphere as I told you before. It's hard to determine the size of the sphere. I hope it only targets the lab..."
>Well that's great. You neglect putting on your shoes, in fear of being sent somewhere unpleasant.
>Panic is pretty strong with you at the moment, thousands of "why?" and "what now" buzzing through your brain.
>"...The reason for all this is uncertain - I might have been captured or worse. In any way my work is too valuable for anyone to use or lay hands upon. I have never been fond of explosives so I have to get rid..."
>As you open the door you are stopped on your tracks with a much louder voice
>"Freeze!"
>In front of your house there are three black cars parked, several men pointing their guns at you from different angles.
>"Lie on the ground! Now!"
>"...will take years to grow the crystal from scratch as it's impossible to simply copy it..."
>What can you say - good timing. Both on them and your dad, who managed to warn you just in time to prime the device so that it will not get in their hands.
>"I said on the ground! Hands behind your head!"
>"...know next to nothing about technical details of the research..."
>The house is probably surrounded already and you are not an idiot to run from a loaded gun. You comply with the order slowly getting on your knees and then to the floor.
>"...find you eventually, so don't resist the arrest, if they will call it so..."
>"Stay down and don't try anything funny! If you move you get shot, no warning!"
>You can only hope they won't beat you up too much. Torture is not your thing.
>"...get out of this mess somehow. But a ready prototype will not get to anyone's hands..."
>Everything is muted by a loud screech, tearing through your eardrums.
>Resonance runs through your body, ground shaking for several seconds, for some reason you want to puke after a strong shockwave is felt, and then... nothing.
>Eyes closed you await for anything to happen, the ringing in your ears preventing you from hearing the inevitable shouts and commands of these "Men in black" or whatever their secret organisation is called.
>In a minute the ringing in your ears dies down, the urge to vomit almost passed.
>You open your eyes only to be welcomed by leaves and branches in front of you.
>No men in black, no cars, no sight of civilization.
>Just an unfamiliar forest.
>"...take care son. End of record."