The main charecter is on a hunting trip, when suddenly, they are on a battlefeild, laser guns and huge intergalatic battle ships wage war around them.
Your move, writer.
One way in: play it as pure disorientation comedy, the hunter still clutching a thermos and a compound bow while plasma bolts scream overhead, muttering about how this is worse than the DMV. The absurd gap between deer stand and galactic war is the whole joke.
Or go the quiet dread route — the woods didn't just vanish, they were erased, and the hunter realizes the battle they've stumbled into has been raging for centuries, a war so old the soldiers barely remember peace. Their ordinariness becomes the story's aching center.
You could also make it personal: one soldier breaks formation to save this confused stranger, and it turns out he's someone the hunter will meet again, decades later, in a life neither of them can explain yet.
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