The sun hung low over the sprawling dig site just outside Cambridge, casting long shadows across the unearthed remnants of an Anglo-Saxon settlement. Ellie brushed dirt from her hands, her fingers still tingling from hours of meticulous work cataloging pottery shards and rusted tools. She’d lost track of time again, her mind wholly consumed by the past she was uncovering, until the site supervisor’s call to pack up broke her focus. Exhaustion tugged at her petite frame as she stretched, slung her bag over her shoulder, and trudged toward her car, her thoughts still lingering on the day’s finds.

The drive back to Cambridge was a familiar blur of narrow country roads, flanked by fields and patches of dense forest. The hum of the engine was soothing, almost too soothing, as fatigue weighed on her eyelids. She fought to stay alert, her mind drifting to the dig—Was that shard from a cooking pot?—when a sudden jolt ripped her from her reverie. The car swerved, tires screaming, before crashing into the forest’s edge. Metal crumpled, glass shattered, and pain seared through her. Then, darkness.

Ellie awoke to birdsong, her head pounding and her body aching. She lay sprawled on the forest floor, sunlight filtering through a canopy of ancient, gnarled trees. Disoriented, she pushed herself up, wincing at the bruises blooming across her skin. The air was crisp, the silence unnerving—no hum of traffic, no sign of her wrecked car. Just trees, stretching endlessly around her. She fumbled for her phone, but its cracked screen stayed dark. Where am I? she wondered, her pulse quickening. She stood shakily, brushing leaves from her clothes, and scanned the area. The forest felt... wrong. Thicker. Wilder. No road, no tire tracks—nothing familiar.