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Description
Time travel is impossible.

Teleportation is impossible.

The multiverse is real, and one could theoretically travel between them.

Silas knew these basic scientific facts when he started to out research into and building the device in his home laboratory. For, that's exactly what the device did: it torn a hole between parallel worlds in order to transport a being or object from one to the other, in this case, Silas himself.

He did not know exactly what the device would do to him and had no way of detecting that the universe on the other side would be like. For all he knew, the world on the other side could still be in its toxic atmosphere stage, killing him instantly once he arrived. The process itself was unlike any pain he had known his entire life. He felt as though every cell in his body and every mote of his soul caught fire at the same moment, but he could still feel it, was forced to be awake for it. This pain made the instantaneous moment last a seeming several eternities. But when he arrived on the other side, the pain just as suddenly disappeared.

Birds chirruped in the trees. Wind rustled through the trees. He had appeared in this new place laying on his back. Silas opened his eyes, then almost immediately closed them again. Colors were too deep, light too bright in this other Earth. He groaned, throwing an arm across his face to shield out the excess light. His breath came out raggedly, and the air burned his throat. He was not dead, yet, but he certainly wished he had brought some equipment to measure atmospheric contents.

He shook his head. No, extra equipment would never have been possible. Not only did he only have a limited amount of space in the cage, but the more complex the device, the more dangerous the journey. Or so he had postulated. Dangerous enough that he brought complex, synthetic chemicals and a datapad with him.

He slowly opened his eyes again, letting his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight, and stood up. His device had transported him to some wild forest. This other world must have been less densely populated than his own home: the last forest had been cut down halfway through the twenty-first century. Letting his eyes lift to the sky, Silas noticed another difference; despite it being the middle of the day, the sky here was so clear, he could make out several constellations and even a planet or two.

Awing at the lack of pollution obscuring the heavens, Silas pushed through the undergrowth, discovering a simple dirt road winding through the trees. The sudden absence of animal noises in the surrounding forest stopped him in his tracks. A soft footfall behind him alerted him to a presence. "Wend slaw," a male voice said.

Silas had been turning around, but he stopped. He was so stupid. He had not even though about there being another language on another version of the world. "I...I'm sorry," he replied, still standing still, "I don't understand."

The was a pause. "Ayem sooreh??" the voice said again. Another voice joined with the first, as if one being were conversing with the first. "Verto paulatim," the second voice spoke up, in hesitant Latin.

Silas' eyes widened, then he became afraid and excited at the same time. "Ubi sum? Quid annus est?" he replied in equally shaky Latin, turning slowly to face two men, one appearing to be in his forties, the other barely looking older than twelve. They were both garbed like peasants from the 14th century. Or highwaymen he thought, eyes coming to rest on the crude bow and arrow held at the ready in the younger one's hands. The arrow was pointed at Silas' chest.

The two men looked at each other strangely before the elder gestured for the younger to lower the bow and replied. "Hoc Gallia. Anno domini 1473."

Silas closed his eyes and slowly sank down, falling unconscious.

Description
Time travel is impossible.

Teleportation is impossible.

The multiverse is real, and one could theoretically travel between them.

Silas knew these basic scientific facts when he started to out research into and building the device in his home laboratory. For, that's exactly what the device did: it torn a hole between parallel worlds in order to transport a being or object from one to the other, in this case, Silas himself.

He did not know exactly what the device would do to him and had no way of detecting that the universe on the other side would be like. For all he knew, the world on the other side could still be in its toxic atmosphere stage, killing him instantly once he arrived. The process itself was unlike any pain he had known his entire life. He felt as though every cell in his body and every mote of his soul caught fire at the same moment, but he could still feel it, was forced to be awake for it. This pain made the instantaneous moment last a seeming several eternities. But when he arrived on the other side, the pain just as suddenly disappeared.

Birds chirruped in the trees. Wind rustled through the trees. He had appeared in this new place laying on his back. Silas opened his eyes, then almost immediately closed them again. Colors were too deep, light too bright in this other Earth. He groaned, throwing an arm across his face to shield out the excess light. His breath came out raggedly, and the air burned his throat. He was not dead, yet, but he certainly wished he had brought some equipment to measure atmospheric contents.

He shook his head. No, extra equipment would never have been possible. Not only did he only have a limited amount of space in the cage, but the more complex the device, the more dangerous the journey. Or so he had postulated. Dangerous enough that he brought complex, synthetic chemicals and a datapad with him.

He slowly opened his eyes again, letting his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight, and stood up. His device had transported him to some wild forest. This other world must have been less densely populated than his own home: the last forest had been cut down halfway through the twenty-first century. Letting his eyes lift to the sky, Silas noticed another difference; despite it being the middle of the day, the sky here was so clear, he could make out several constellations and even a planet or two.

Awing at the lack of pollution obscuring the heavens, Silas pushed through the undergrowth, discovering a simple dirt road winding through the trees. The sudden absence of animal noises in the surrounding forest stopped him in his tracks. A soft footfall behind him alerted him to a presence. "Wend slaw," a male voice said.

Silas had been turning around, but he stopped. He was so stupid. He had not even though about there being another language on another version of the world. "I...I'm sorry," he replied, still standing still, "I don't understand."

The was a pause. "Ayem sooreh??" the voice said again. Another voice joined with the first, as if one being were conversing with the first. "Verto paulatim," the second voice spoke up, in hesitant Latin.

Silas' eyes widened, then he became afraid and excited at the same time. "Ubi sum? Quid annus est?" he replied in equally shaky Latin, turning slowly to face two men, one appearing to be in his forties, the other barely looking older than twelve. They were both garbed like peasants from the 14th century. Or highwaymen he thought, eyes coming to rest on the crude bow and arrow held at the ready in the younger one's hands. The arrow was pointed at Silas' chest.

The two men looked at each other strangely before the elder gestured for the younger to lower the bow and replied. "Hoc Gallia. Anno domini 1473."

Silas closed his eyes and slowly sank down, falling unconscious.