Jahvé was waiting on the beach. He knew that when the portal opened, he would have to use all his magic to go out into cold space and survive until he reached the nearest mining planet, which had a breathable atmosphere.
He knew that if he left with that new body, the game would end, at least if he didn't wait fifty years to cross through the portal again, but the idea of living 150 years terrified him; he already felt strange for being a man already a hundred years old in the world with the body of a young man of barely thirty.
It had just dawned in the other world that Jahve was chewing some dried beef to kill his hunger, and his body was asking for food like that of every young man.
The portal opened with its green tone reflecting on the waves of the sea. In his other stay on the island, he also experienced this same opening, but he had no way of crossing it; his hunting could barely be considered anything more than scrap metal.