Walking along the road, then found something. A portal. Yes, a portal. It seemed very convenient, as the island was getting boring. Jack stepped into it. Yeah, that's it. No fancy description or anything.
Jack found himself on a huge field, complete with rolling green pastures. It was the sight right out of a tourist postcard. Then an arrow struck the ground directly in front of him with a thud.
Then five more.
Then ten more.
Then a hundred more. None of them hit Jack, although one of them tore a slight gash in his shirt.
Argh, Jack thought as the deadly projectiles showered him. It's going to take forever to repair that tear.
Jack concluded that he was in some kind of ancient battlefield. He hoped it was China.
The general of the army was on the battlefield that day. His reasons were simple enough. The boys had lost morale and requested he lead the charge. Normally he would have declined, but this battle would spell the death of a rival Chinese warlord, and he needed his troops to be as satisfied with the suicidal odds of survival as possible.
He called several archer volleys on where he thought the enemy was. Then, he saw him. The man. Wearing strange clothes, he had popped out of thin air and somehow dodged every single one of the arrows. He had a strange sword strapped to his back. The general recognised it as a Japanese sword.
And if there was one thing that general hated more than rival Chinese warlords, it was Japanese people.
Racial memory is a fickle thing. It travels forwards as well as backwards. Now, millions of souls from his future were speaking into his mind a single sentence, a phrase filled with hate and rage.
"Their cartoons are terrible," they whispered. He did not know what cartoons were, but he still did not like the Japanese.
Jack saw the army advancing towards him. He could tell from their uniform that he was right, and they were Chinese. He spread his arms wide, and grinned.
"Brothers!" he called out.