In the midst of all this chaos, there's a small pond with normal colored water and trees with cerulean leaves and red bark. People don't walk this way often but it is one possible outlet for uncontrolled transreal travel in the vicinity of this realm.

Its tranquility is shattered when a jagged rift in spacetime rips open several meters above the pond. Almost reluctantly, it vents ribbons of shredded magic and disgorges a smoldering humanoid figure, missing an arm, into the pool below. A gout of steam erupts, then disperses. 

The figure - vaguely male, and covered in an oddly fluid crystalline armor like a second skin - splashes his way to the pool's edge and squelches out, dripping. He looks around in utter confusion, taking in the oddly-colored surroundings. "Blistering moon-fever, where in the multiverse am I?" 

A gentle breeze is his only immediate answer.

He lets out a grumbling sigh. "...drat. This doesn't look like where I was aiming at all. Must've been the blast. Well, there's probably something around here that needs killing." His left shoulder oozes a reddish fluid, which rapidly crystallizes in the air. He flexes his remaining hand, and his eyes - which look more like an insect's than a human's, shimmering from multiple facets in the odd light - narrow slightly.

Something's different, here. 

"...Well, no sense wasting time." He picks a direction at random and starts walking, limping only slightly. 

The trees change color after he's walked a short distance swapping trunk and leaf colors. A few steps after that he feels something touching his mind defenses it's not aggressive and it seems to find what it's looking for in the outermost layers of his mind before withdrawing. Not long after that a silvery matte octahedron about half a meter tall floats out from behind a tree. "Greetings. Is this the language you prefer to communicate in?" It's speaking the language he used most in the world he just came from.

The instant the intrusion begins, he shifts into a fighting stance. The movement is fluid despite his injuries. Ripples echo across his mind in the wake of the probe, and he shifts slightly, glancing left and right for a potential source. (His eyes are not his only source of vision, but no need to let potential enemies know that.) After a moment, though, he relaxes, watching the octahedron warily. That's strange - it's speaking Gravese, not Draconic, but he can distinctly feel that this world allows ki - 

His eyes widen. This world also allows magic. And powers, and telekinesis, and telepathy, and he knows what a starship is...

Come to think of it, he shouldn't be able to speak both Draconic and Gravese in any universe, and he's got both languages - along with hundreds more he shouldn't know at the same time. Is everything online?

"I think I broke something," he remarks to the octahedron in Gravese, then switches to Draconic. "But so long as you're poking around in my brain for languages, would you mind using this one?" Time to test - did it get Draconic out of his lower layer, before he brought it to the forefront, or does it need to scan again for the new language? He monitors the outer layer closely, trying to follow the probe. 

Another probe does come, though it doesn't come from any particular physical direction in a sense it's coming from all around him, from the world itself, it's searching for additional languages. "Interesting, you're using some form of ability that lets you defend your mind. And that's why the initial results didn't return this language. That's an impressive amount of control."

He notices the search and moves a few more languages to the bait layer - just a dozen or so, enough to credibly show a skilled learner without giving away how many he actually has. He restructures the shallow mind-layers as well, strengthening the shields around the first core layer and resolving secondary and tertiary bait identities in case of a deeper probe. If he's dealing with an intelligent-world level of telepathic expertise, he can't afford to take chances being clever. 

He snorts. "Lots of practice. So...who are you, where am I, and why'd'you suppose I ended up here?" While he talks, he admires the color-shifting surroundings. It doesn't seem to be optimized for hostility, but one can always hope. 

"This is the Heart's Realm, it's a multiverse nexus of sorts the magic and physics of about two thousand worlds are all present and somehow reconciled to not cause problems. And that number keeps going up as we explore more. As for me I'm Tristan Watcher, I work for a multiversal organization called Starlight that explores worlds and tries to help the people we meet. To be clear, this is a remote unit I'm not physically present."

He bursts out laughing. Kami kai, how far did I travel? 

"A nexus! And here I thought they were all destroyed!" He continues chuckling for a few seconds, then slips into a mere friendly grin. On the surface, at least; in his core, he remains on guard. "Yours seems to operate differently than the old world-ways, though. There sure is something up with the rules 'round here. How'd you secure it against the Netherlings, Tristan Watcher? Or do you even have those in this lovely little pocket of spacetime?" 

"We haven't encountered any sort of multiversal threat so far thankfully, we have contingencies but they are thus far untested and with luck they will remain untested. This is also the only such nexus we've found."

No multiversal threats at all? Well, that's disappointing.

"Huh. You might just be the most remote universe I've ever seen - well, relative to our core cluster, anyway. If you've literally never encountered the Netherlings, count yourself lucky. They can give even groups like yours a run for your money." He turns to look back towards the pond, frowning. "As near as I can tell, though, that was a one-way trip. I don't expect to be followed." More's the pity. That fight could've been fun. And these folks must have some serious resources if they're combining rules from two thousand worlds. Quite the speed bump for those hungry bastards, even if it does give their heavy hitters more options. 

"If you should encounter any multiversal threats, let me know. They're my specialty. In the meantime, I'm guessing this isn't your first extraplanar visitor. What's the standard procedure, and how much of it can I skip with my otherworldy charm?" This is followed by a rather lopsided grin; half his cheek is still in the process of recrystallizing. 

"The only mandatory thing is that you listen to a summary of our laws. There's a number of other recommended steps but they're not mandatory."

"Fair enough. Let's hear 'em." 

"Doing intentional injury to others is forbidden the exceptions are as follows: you have their permission, your act is in defense of yourself or others, or it happens part of an approved operation and within the approved rules of engagement.

Citizens in physical worlds are required to spend at least 5% of their time doing approved community service work. Citizenship is available upon request and comes with healthcare, education, shelter, sustenance, and political representation.

Theft is generally forbidden though the definition of that tends to be stricter than many other realms define it. Generally it's only applied to people's personal property or if you're taking very large volumes of material.

Otherwise, there are additional restrictions in certain areas you will be informed of those when entering."

"I've got no problem with anything I've heard so far. If I wanted citizenship, could I choose what service to do? Can I or others revoke my citizenship? Do you have any community service that involves military training, martial arts lessons, or similar?" 

"You can choose to stop being a citizen, there's indexes of available community service work. Significant parts of that are associated with current conflicts we're involved with. Hand to hand combat is something of a niche skill but we do have some people who need to learn it and you may be able to contribute there depending on your own skill level. Military training is a broad category so we would need to discuss what you mean by that in more detail."

Oooo, conflicts. He was worried for a bit that this would be a boring cluster. 

"If it pertains to fighting things, I can teach it. Ki manipulation, combat magic, intelligence gathering, hand-to-hand, strategy, tactics, logistics, piloting ships or giant mechs, whatever you got." If this were any other world he'd be limited to only a few of those things, but it seems like he's kept all his knowledge for some reason. "I prefer the frontlines, frankly, but if I can't convince you to use me as a commando then teaching rookies how to not die is also a worthy calling. I'd like to learn more about your capabilities, but it sounds like citizenship is the way to go." Also, he's hungry and has no money. 

"It might be easier to continue this conversation somewhere other than the middle of the woods. Would you be willing to be teleported or would you prefer linear transport?"

"It's actually kinda nice here...feels homey. But you're right. Teleportation's fine." 

"I can move the necessary displays into place here if you prefer, most people find this place a little unsettling."

He chuckles. "Believe me, I've seen much worse. No need to go to that extent, though. Let's talk in person." 

He feels magic reaching out to his body it seems to be trying to determine where the border is between him and his environment. Following that more magic reaches out and teleports him to a new location. If his senses are particularly acute he might be able to tell the teleportation magic is switching volumes of space. The new room has a rich carpet with a pattern that looks a bit like a mirrored sunrise over a forest. There are two couches on either side of the carpet. He appears in front of one couch. There's a tall man with dark brown skin and short black hair wearing sleek slacks blue and a white long sleeve shirt with no visible seems. There's a small logo on the left breast of his shirt with stars against a dark blue background. "Hello there, nice to see you in person."

"Likewise." He slaps his good hand to his forehead. "Huh. I forgot to introduce myself earlier. See, this is why face-to-face is worth it. I'm Blastralion Protos, also known as Kalifor in some worlds. Technically I'm Blastralion Protos 32174, but that's a long story. Oh, and I'm told several demon realms have words for me, but I can't repeat any of those in polite company. You're Tristan Watcher, I presume?" 

His crystallizing wounds have mostly finished sealing at this point, leaving a polished surface like diamond scales. It's hard to tell where armor ends and person begins - even his head is vaguely helmet-shaped. He's also not quite humanoid. From the base of where his spine ought to be, a short monkey's tail protrudes. It's also crystalline, partially severed, and just finished healing.

His feet sink deep into the carpet, implying higher-than-typical density. 

"Indeed I am, it's good to meet you. Can I get you anything, food, a drink?"