Michael Knight was trying to free the trapped people, but it was hopeless. He needed Kitt, but they'd been separated and he didn't know where Kitt was. His commlink was useless due to the building's shielding.

Suddenly, Kitt broke through the glass doors at the far end of the wide corridor. Without stopping, he sped through and broke through the locked metal doors, freeing everyone from their prison.

A little later, I seemed to take Michael's place (as myself, not as Michael). I was collecting samples of a mercury-like liquid metal from the pavement outside as evidence against those who had trapped the people and abandoned the site. There was a young woman with fair skin and short blond hair beside me as I worked. Her closeness bothered me. I ignored her and continued to closely study the ground on my hands and knees.

I saw a similar metallic puddle underneath Kitt and asked him about it. He told me what kind of fluid it was with an underlying tone of You knew what that was; you didn't have to point out my drip in front of a stranger.

I stood and raised Kitt's hood to make sure he didn't have a leak. The blonde was standing right beside me as I checked Kitt's engine. She affectionately touched my back, near my shoulder.

"Don't touch me," I told her firmly.

Without a word, she removed her hand, but didn't move from where she stood.

I didn't look at her. I watched my hands lovingly caress the glossy surface of Kitt's front end.

"I never want anyone to touch me ever again," I said. I didn't at all care how that made her feel. I wanted intimate physical contact only with Kitt. And here the dream ended.

One man (who looked very much like Marc Alaimo) in civilian clothes, and carrying a briefcase, approached him on the pretext of asking for the time. Michael sensed that the man was feigning an innocent disposition and was able to wrestle him to the ground before he could fire the gun he had drawn. Michael was doing well.

That night, Michael was standing just inside a "house." KITT was parked just beyond the porch. While Michael was sizing up the situation there, I walked casually toward KITT. Michael stepped out and I waved at him, yelling that I needed a lift, but then something caused Michael to step back inside the house. I decided, then, to steal KITT.

When I knew Michael couldn't see me, I ran for KITT. I threw open the driver door, got in, slammed the door and locked it, started the car, and drove off. Neither Michael nor KITT had any reason to suspect my actions. For all they knew, I was the main player in the next staged incident. I figured KITT had allowed me to take him as easily as if he were a common car because he believed I was part of the training, and that Michael's objective was to retake him as such.

I made it past the grounds, to a junction with a highway. Unfortunately, a convoy drove up and stopped, blocking my way. It gave Michael enough time to catch up to me. KITT unlocked the passenger door to let Michael in (I knew he did this because he now suspected I'd tried to steal him for real). I greeted Michael, overplaying an innocent persona. I hadn't expected it, after believing that KITT had realized the truth, but Michael still thought I was part of the training program.

He told me to turn around and head back to the base. I thought it best to play along with his notion. I told KITT to turn us around, adding that I wasn't as good at doing those 180s as he was. So, KITT took us back to base.

Then I was in Michael's cabin. KITT was parked inside the room, beside the bed, covered with heaps of Michael's clean clothes and towels. Michael was lying in bed, half undressed under the sheets. He was relentless in trying to coax me into bed with him, but there was no way I was going to do that. However, we did kiss a few times. And it was disgusting. Each time we kissed, some stuff would get into my mouth from his. It felt like small pieces of meat, like browned ground chuck. As much as I would spit these things out and try to wipe them from my tongue, there were always more pieces left.

Finally, he stopped trying to bed me. Instead, he started complimenting me on my "performance" in the training exercise. But, since I actually wasn't part of the exercises, his compliments were like insults to me. I just wanted to get away from him.

I was about to leave his cabin, but I stopped and turned around. "Do you mind if KITT comes out and...plays with me?" I asked, in the manner of a child asking for a playmate.

He didn't know how to answer, so I asked KITT if he wanted to play with me. KITT's voice was muffled under the clothes, so I uncovered the driver window, which he let down so I could hear. We talked a little. I remember suggesting that he have Bonnie fit an anti-grav unit underneath him. I told him that, being lighter, he would save fuel, and that the turbo boost landings wouldn't be so rough.

Here, the dream began losing cohesion. Through KITT's windshield, I saw part of the bridge of the Liberator (from Blake's 7). Avon, Tarrant, Villa, and either Sulin or Jenna walked onto the bridge. Avon asked a question. KITT had been talking to me, but he stopped, mid-sentence, to answer Avon in Zen's voice. (Zen was the Liberator's main computer.) In my confusion, I thought KITT had taken the place of either Zen or ORAC. Then, I woke up when I heard my son talking in his sleep, which is just as well. Everything had stopped making sense.

At about age 15, James and N became boyfriend and girlfriend, which was fine with me and the other boy at the time. Later, at about age 18 or 19, we all went to a bar. As we all talked, it was becoming clear that I was more compatible with James than N. I was sure N sensed this. The other boy didn't seem to notice anything. He and N soon had to go home. I could tell she didn't like the idea of James and me being alone together, but there was still that feeling of close friendship among all of us, so she decided to trust that nothing would happen.

James and I were in each other's company all night, and the more we were together, the more obvious it became that we were better matched.

The next day, James and I were walking around the city. I remember us talking as we walked through a grocery store's parking lot. At one point, he hugged me from behind. It felt so natural for us to act this way. But then, after he let me go, it seemed he was ashamed because he already had a girlfriend and didn't want to betray her. We kept walking, not saying much. I noticed how long his hair was now, it reached the middle of his back. Then, he mentioned how his mustache was filling out, and he pointed out how thick it had become.

Suddenly, I realized who James was (or would be). He was James Hetfield, future Metallica frontman. Discovering this made me want to take him away from N even more.

I went to James's house later that day. The "other guy" was there, but not N. James was propped up on the floor writing lyrics, a guitar beside him. Seeing all this gave me an idea. Since I already knew his future, I'd say all the right things to make him see that I understood exactly what he wanted to do. We talked a bit about his wanting to form a band. He didn't have a name for it yet. I threw in the suggestion of "Metallica," and he lit up like I had cleared a fog from his mind. It was just the name he wanted. I went on suggesting this and that, and he loved every "idea" I had. (I glanced at a page of lyrics with the title "Funny But True." I laughed to myself, knowing that I'd have to push this one in the direction of becoming "Sad But True.") I was sure I'd made myself indispensible, and that he'd dump N for me — but I was awakened before that could happen.

One of the things he had to do was find small metal pails of blood to mix to complete the weapon. Some pails of blood were out in the open, others were frozen in small freezers hidden here and there. He had to collect pails of each and boil them together in a large boiler.

I found the boiler he needed in a far corner of the castle, but when I went to tell him, his attention was no longer on his task. He had wandered outside the castle ruins and had taken a seat on a bench where a view of the flower gardens could be enjoyed.

It was a beautiful day — a late summer afternoon, it seemed. The bright sunshine made the untended bushes and flower beds beautiful in their own wild way.

I walked slowly toward Kain, whose back was to me, wondering why he had so suddenly abandoned his quest. It seemed that he was waiting for someone. As soon as I thought this, I saw a girl walking up the garden path. I knew her name. She was Sarah (as she appeared in Labyrinth). And I knew she had just come from school.

By this time, I had walked beyond the bench. A sudden feeling of certain dread came over me. I spun around and saw what I was afraid I'd see: Kain had changed into Jareth. No longer was I his — Kain's — companion, now he — Jareth — was hers.

But Sarah did not seem happy to be there, or to see him. She said a friendly hello to a large, beige, hairy dog, named "Toby," who wagged his tail in response. Then, she sat in Jareth's lap, but she seemed to purposely make the position awkward so they would both be uncomfortable. Soon, they both rose and walked arm in arm into the castle.

I followed, ignored by both.

Once inside, the surroundings changed to those of a clothes store or costume shop. Sarah was now dressed in black, and her hair was full and curly and lustrous. I followed a few steps behind her and Jareth, through racks of fancy clothes. I didn't know what else to do. I felt out of place.

In that moment, I had a revelation. I realized that Sarah had created this changing space we occupied, and that she had created Jareth. Also, that she must have loved Jareth so much that she had given him life and the ability to control this special place in her absence.

But then, what was I? I reasoned that Sarah must have created me. So why did she ignore me? And why didn't I change when all else changed at her command? I realized that I didn't know my name or anything about myself.

"Sarah...did you create me?" I asked her.

She turned to look at me and, in a casual tone, said, "No, I didn't create you."

I stopped. I couldn't move. I felt as though my whole world had fallen apart. She did a double-take back at me and rushed to my side when she saw how upset I had become. I suddenly knew who must have created me. Jareth! But it didn't make sense for him to have the power to create another, being a creation of imagination himself. I looked at him. He had placed himself a few steps behind Sarah, where she couldn't see him, and was watching me intensely. He must have guessed I would figure it out. He had such a look on his face, but it was difficult to tell exactly what he was feeling. All I knew was that he had created me for himself, for the times Sarah was away, and I didn't know how to feel about it.

I ran away, and the dream melded into another storyline about my being in a mall. Boring.

Garak, Dr. Bashir, and an unknown human female agent were taking a gynecology class. It was part of a clandestine operation arranged by the Obsidian Order. It was the last day of class, which was the day of the final exam. Somehow, Garak suddenly lost all memory of their time there. He couldn't remember anything about the class or what they'd done while posing as students. Before class, he tried to communicate this to Bashir, but Bashir acted as though Garak was telling a bad joke at the worst time. All of their efforts there would culminate on this day, but first, they had to pass their test.

The professor walked into the room through sliding double doors. She looked exactly like Kira Nerys. Garak was surprised at this, but didn't let it show. He knew he'd only forgotten.

The Kira look-alike would give them the test one at a time in her office. The female agent went first. While she was taking her test, Garak again told Bashir that he had no memory of why they were there or what they'd done or learned in the class. He told him he couldn't remember their aliases or any secret codes they were using during the mission. He opened his notebook which was full of class lessons in his handwriting and said that he didn't remember writing them, and that he knew he couldn't absorb all the information right before the test. Bashir knew he wasn't joking this time.

Bashir tried to quickly fill him in. He told Garak that their primary target was this professor who looked like Kira, and that they were in a Cardassian medical facility on Romulus. When Garak heard this, he became very angry. He didn't like for anything from Cardassia to be aiding Romulans. He looked to the double door, which was of obvious Cardassian design, and couldn't believe that they were actually on Romulus.

The woman agent had finished her test and left. It would be Bashir's turn next. Garak tried to think of a way out of the test and started acting like a disgruntled patient. Bashir gave him a look that told him that was the wrong thing to do, so Garak played that off like he was just acting. Then, Bashir went in for his test. The look on his face told that he was very worried about their mission, and about Garak.

Then, I walked into the room where Garak was waiting and we talked for a minute (no idea what we said), and then we kissed, passionately. We pulled away and I saw that Garak's eyes were red and there were tears streaming down his face. I said something about how I wished we were still married. He replied that he'd recently discovered that we were still married — whatever it was that had annulled our marriage was in error. That made me happy, and I wondered why he shouldn't be happy, too. All I could do was hold him and say, "Don't cry. Please stop crying."

The professor emerged from her office. It was Garak's turn to take the test. My back was to her. Garak pulled out a phaser and I turned just in time to see the blue-white blast and her look of terror as it hit her squarely in her chest. She was dead. Garak mumbled something about how that was one way to get out of taking a test.

{Part Two}

Damar was on a mission of his own. He emerged from a service crawlspace in a corridor that reminded me of those of the Death Star from Return of the Jedi. Behind him, a civilian girl (also Cardassian) crawled out. Damar was crawling from one machine to another, disarming phaser rifles underneath the machines that had been set to overload at the same time to blow up the entire station — a Dominion space station. Seems he was on the Dominion's side.

The girl watched him closely as she went behind him resetting each phaser rifle to their previous detonation schedule. Damar thought she had come to help him.

When he was finished, he left the station by some kind of ejecting square on the floor. Before he had ejected, he had told her how to work it so she could leave right behind him. Then, I was the girl. I saw open space through the square hole Damar left from. I knew a body couldn't survive open space, and I couldn't make myself press the button that would launch me out. But I also knew that the whole station would soon explode, and I would certainly die if I stayed. Damar seemed to be all right. Still, I never decided what to do.

{Part Three}

In another Death Star-esque corridor, a short old alien, who looked similar to an urRu from The Dark Crystal, was stopped by two Jem'Haddar. They knew there was a saboteur on the station and suspected that the old one knew something. The old alien pulled out a phaser and said, "I've been wanting a reason to use this thing." He fired at their faces a continuous, jagged streak of energy. It wasn't powerful enough to kill them. They were only weakened a little. His phaser ran out of power, and he was at their mercy. He had hoped his phaser would have more effect, but he accepted his fate. One of the Jem'Haddar said a few words in the way of telling the old one his end had come, but I woke up before they fired on him.

I hadn't realized until I got in that I didn't know how to drive a car that was, to me, over a hundred years old. It had a stick-shift, and an odd one at that. The gear box was where a modern radio would have been, and it had three "levels": level one held gear "2"; level two, gear "1"; and level three, gears "A," "0," and "3." The shifter was a thick, stubby wooden stick with a spherical handle. I had watched Sherlock drive often enough, so I thought I could manage. I kept quiet and hoped for the best.

My driving was appalling. I couldn't stay in the center of my lane and I hit a few cars along the way. When we reached the manor house of the suspected criminal of our latest case, I got out and saw a gaping, jagged hole in the left front fender. Sherlock saw it too, but didn't say anything about it. He knew he didn't have to say anything.

While he was inside, talking to the owner, I found the car's manual and read that "A" was for "Automatic," and all I had to do was put it in "A" for it to drive like a car of my time. I felt like an idiot.

That was pretty much it, except that I distinctly remember us kissing several times in the dream. I couldn't say whether it was before or after our little road trip, but I know it happened. Lots of kissing in dreams lately.

I had fallen asleep on the couch, and the dream started with my waking up on the couch. My son was in the dining room, saying he saw a bug. I got up and saw him using bug spray to kill whatever bug he'd found. Our black-and-white cat was helping chase the bug (we never let the cats into the house in real life). I didn't like that my son was using the spray since he's so young, but he was using it correctly so I didn't panic, I just went and took the spray from him. Then I found another bug, but it was dark in the room and the bug kept blurring out of my vision. I turned on the lights, but they were too dim. That's when I realized I could be dreaming, but I wasn't sure. Everything looked the same as in real life. I had to prove to myself it was dream, but I was distracted again by the bug chase. I went into the living room and got a little silver flashlight, but instead of turning it on, I looked through it and saw myself as though I was looking at a mirror. I remembered about proving the dream and tried to distort my reflection. Finally, my mouth became a gaping, misshapen black hole, so I had my proof.

I looked out the open back door. Our porch was gone and there was a bright, heavenly glow to everything outside. I went out and up a little hill. I turned and looked at my pretty little light blue house with white trim (not what my real house looks like) in the picturesque neighborhood. I saw my driveway lined with tall pine trees, and then, to my surprise and delight, I saw...my car — a gleaming black Trans Am parked in the shade. KARR.

I started jogging towards him. Suddenly, Michael Knight ran past me from behind. He thought the car was KITT, and thought that if I reached him first he would be in my control instead of his. I chased him, intent on tackling him. I was on his heels, but he darted to the side before I could touch him and made it to the car first. I stood behind him as he wrestled with the handle and begged the car to open the door to no avail.

Finally, he stopped when he realized it was no use. He looked at me, and I looked from him to the open driver window, wondering why, if he was so desperate to get in, he didn't climb through there. I looked back at him and said, "This isn't KITT...it's KARR."

KARR took his cue and said, "Hello, Michael," in a deep, threatening, "Remember me?" tone of voice.

Michael looked shocked and a bit fearful. I smirked, knowing KARR was just getting a kick out of spooking Michael with his menacing voice.

I opened the door and sat down. But then, feeling bad for Michael, I decided he could do with a kiss (even though I disliked him for his womanizing). I stood up and kissed him. When I pulled away, his mouth was chasing mine. I knew he wanted more than the simple kiss I'd given him, so I thought, "Hell, why not?" and we kissed like lovers.

He put his hand between my legs and started rubbing me in all the right ways. It felt so good that I couldn't stop him, but at the same time, I really didn't want him touching me like that. He stopped when a woman walked up to talk to him. (I think she was meant to be Bonnie, but she didn't look quite right.) I sat back down in KARR's driver seat, wondering why I let Michael get away with touching me. Then the woman left and Michael turned back to me. I looked at Karr's dashboard rather than at him, but I looked back at him when he started talking.

He said something like, "I hope you're not going to let me turn my back and leave without cracking my nuts." (I'm giggling at the absurdity as I type this.)

I knew what he meant by it: I touched yours, now you touch mine. Again I thought, "Oh, why not?" So I stood up and groped him through his tight jeans. He was obviously enjoying it. Thank god I woke up! :P

The next thing I saw was Mr. Herriman's head and shoulders from a tilted camera angle with a psychedelic background. Colors washed over the screen as music started. I'm almost certain the song was "Things Can Only Get Better" by Howard Jones. The images switched between Frankie and Herriman as pinks and purples washed over them and their clothes faded into more of a rapper's style.

Then, all of that was gone and my point of view was from the front of a moving bus or passenger train car, looking toward the back. The interior was mostly white — a clean, first-class look. In the very back left seat, Venger sat with Sheila on his left knee, facing his right. With her head and shoulder against his chest, she looked quite content.

She uncurled herself from him and slowly stood up. She was wearing red, spiked high heels, a body suit (legless and armless, like a swimsuit) of swirling colors, and a red, horned headdress. She looked devilishly sexy, and appeared to enjoy showing off for him as much as he enjoyed watching her. He kept a leer on his face and never took his eyes from her.

Sheila and Shadow Demon started doing something playful and perverse as their master watched with a wicked smile. I couldn't tell what they were doing, but it looked kinky.

I saw flashes of what her old friends were doing. I only remember that Hank and Diana were being attacked by something that was coming at them from treetops.

I climbed through a window of her house and took home all her printed chapters, outline, and notes. I took her collection of D&D pictures, too. There were many, but I only remember one of Venger in darkness with a wide red border.

Days later, I saw policemen talking to my back door neighbor, an elderly lady. She seemed to be having trouble answering their questions. I went out onto my back porch to see what was going on. She saw me immediately and waved me over, but then started walking toward me and telling me that the police believed Sealgirl's body was still in her house.

My neighbor met me at the same window of Sealgirl's house that I had climbed through before. I placed my hands on the bottom frame of the window, but then hesitated. I dreaded opening it and smelling the stench of her rotting corpse inside, but I knew I had to go in to see if she was in there.

I threw open the window, but the air was clean. I climbed through and walked through a few rooms until I found her bedroom. There was a body curled up on its side in the bed, facing the wall. I slowly walked up to the bed. Her head, an arm, and a leg were uncovered. She was thin and had close-cropped black hair. The skin was pale and there were several big purple and blue bruises on her leg and face. It definitely looked like a dead body, but I was amazed that there was no smell of decay. I touched her face. Nothing. Then, I felt her neck to check for a pulse.

She woke up like she'd simply been taking a long afternoon nap. She sat up, with the bedspread across her lap, and I told her everything — about the rumors, about the investigation, about what I'd taken and why, etc. She told me that certain things I had taken were collectively worth a lot of money, and she wanted every bit of it back. She didn't say this in a mean way, she was just so shocked over it all and wanted to make sure she got everything back. I told her that I would of course bring everything back, now that I knew she was alive.

A man (who looked like Richard Jordan) bought a house in a new community. I felt like I was, maybe, his teenage daughter. I was there, in the house, listening as someone told him about ghosts in the area. He didn't look like he believed it. I left to go explore the new town.

A man was sweeping the back porch of a restaurant. He could tell I was new around there, and told me about the ghosts. He said they were friendly and you could summon them if you needed help. Just yell "storm" long and loud, and they would appear in a blast of wind.

I moved on to a hardware store. I listened to one of the owners explain to someone that it was haunted and his business was suffering because of it. I slipped into the store to check it out for myself.

There was a ghost, and he would knock things over and laugh. When a hired ghost hunter came in (looked like an evil, black-haired Bill Gates), I slipped back out, but still hung around to watch. Soon, the nerdish hunter came out with the ghost. As soon as he was out the door of the store, he offered the ghost a mug of some potion that he said would make him human again.

Without hesitation, the ghost drank it and did become human. He was so overjoyed that he was running around yelling about it. Then, he saw me and came running up to me. I thought he might trample me or bear-hug me to death in his elation. I kept backing away, but he kept coming. Thankfully, all he did was take my left hand in his huge ones and tell me how happy he was that he could touch and feel again.

From then on, he stuck to me. His name was Thaig, and he wanted to stay with me and protect me. I appreciated it, but he was such an overprotective and overbearing brute, that it really couldn't be. I took him home, left him at the dining table with the first food he'd had in centuries, and slipped out the back door to find his Viking ghost brethren. I hoped they could take him back somehow. I hoped to find Grennelo. He'd know what to do.

I walked up to the end of an old dirt road where there were large boulders here and there. I knew they were there, and I was about to call them out the way I'd been told, but I woke up.

I moved along the ground, sometimes crawling, hoping that Griffon didn't see me as I tried to leave the coliseum. I hoped that I could find something outside to use against him. Once outside, I found a black and gold shield lying on the ground (looked exactly like a toy shield that my son has in real life) and re-entered the coliseum with it. The coliseum now looked completely different and it appeared empty though I could still hear the battle going on.

Then, I heard a woman's voice behind me. It took me a moment to place the voice. It was Nevan's (DMC3). I didn't turn around. There was a mirror in front of me that showed no one behind me. Nevan was saying the same thing over and over, but all I could clearly understand were the last two words: "fucking me." Finally, I turned around. She was standing only a couple feet away, naked (she's pretty much naked in the game). Then, my husband got home and I woke up.

The leader was a red-orange muscle car. He and the rest of his pack liked to live on the wild side. They would cruise around, pick up hot chicks, and let them have their way with them — inside them, on top of them. They'd even let them make out with their boyfriends in their back seats.

KITT and KARR were there, and as soon as the leader realized they were also AIs, he and his group were relentless in tempting them toward their perverse behavior. KARR, bad boy that he is, joined up quickly. KITT, being the conservative type, resisted. But Kitt finally acquiesced and allowed two girls and one guy to get inside — the guy and his girl made out in the back seat while the other girl "fondled" KITT's dash in the front seat. Another girl came up and ran her hands along his sleek, black body. She asked him if she could get off on top of him. He didn't say anything, but she climbed onto his rear end anyway and began rubbing herself against him.

When Michael Knight came outside, ready to leave the get-together, the orgy was over. The other cars scattered, leaving KITT alone with his new groupies. Michael made the people inside KITT get out. The girl on top of KITT slid off and asked Michael if she could have a few private words with KITT. Michael agreed, but stayed close enough to hear her. She knelt in front of KITT's scanner and apologized to him, for herself and her friends, because she knew he hadn't really wanted all that to happen, and she felt bad that they'd all used him in such a way. KITT was very understanding. Actually, he sounded as if he was sorry it had to end. Michael just stood there, off to the side, with a disbelieving look on his face.

Unexpectedly, Devon walked in, talking on a cellphone, as I was tearing out the page to leave for him. Seeing me, he ended his call quickly and greeted me very friendly. He seemed genuinely happy to see me. It was throwing me off balance both mentally and emotionally. I hadn't expected to be happy to see him, too. And he was making me feel so comfortable and welcome. Even so, I would not be deterred. I tried to give him the letter, but he seemed to guess that it wouldn't be a pleasant read, and refused to take it. So, I told him what I'd written, and it clearly disturbed him, but since he'd considered the whole matter closed for so long, he was easily willing to forgive and forget. And, of course, he refused to have me killed, which left me feeling very dejected.

I felt even worse when Michael and Bonnie walked in and were also happy to see me. I preferred my long-held notion of being hated by them all.

Suddenly, I began remembering things from the past. Only, my past was their future. I told Devon about the creation of the Knight 4000, and warned him about a "Mr. Maddock" who would take over the Knight Foundation and have Kitt dismantled, his parts sold. I couldn't help crying as I told of this. I could picture Kitt helpless as his body plating was stripped from him and his circuitry was removed, while at the same time a brand new AI vehicle, the Knight 4000, was being built. It affected me as though it had already happened. Devon and Michael both wanted to console me, but I refused their attentions. And when I couldn't take any more of their kindness, I said my goodbyes. But before I left, I gave my letter to Michael and made him promise to see that Devon read it.

As I was leaving, I glimpsed Devon in another office with none other than Mr. Maddock. I saw Maddock give him a piece of paper, which he signed before I could get in there to stop him. When I made it into the office, Devon introduced his visitor as "Mr. Cooper," but I knew better. I walked up to the desk and said to him, "You know, I once knew a man who looked just like you. His last name was Maddock."

By the look in his eyes I could see that he knew the game was already up, but with Devon's signature on the document in his hand, he remained confident. He admitted his true last name, showing me a tattoo on his upper arm with the name "Nagahiri Maddock" inscribed below the artwork.

Devon stood up quickly with an indignant look on his face and demanded to know what was going on.

"I'm your new boss," Maddock smugly informed him.

Devon was livid. He decried Maddock's deception and demanded that the paper be handed over immediately. When Maddock refused, Devon tried to take it from him. They struggled, and Maddock managed to pin Devon's left arm against the edge of the desk. Devon shouted for me to take the communicator watch from his wrist before Maddock could get it, and escape with Kitt.

I lunged and ripped the velcro strap free and got out through the window. I contacted Kitt as I ran, but his voice was too weak and garbled for me to understand. I jumped and slid from rooftop to rooftop, closing in on Kitt's signal. I could see that the city had flooded; parts of the highways were broken apart and buried underwater. There was no way for a car to travel on them.

I finally found Kitt where high flood waters had landed him on a balcony. All four tires were gone, his rear end had been sliced off, and he was half full of mud. As I ran up to him, I told him to open the door, but he couldn't manage it. I opened the driver door and asked him what happened, thinking that Maddock had had him attacked. It was difficult to understand him, but he seemed to be trying to say that he had gotten caught in the flood trying to make it to the Knight Foundation.

I took his key and left him there, which I hated to do since he had been so brave and selfless in trying to come to our rescue, but I didn't want to be caught with both the communicator and the key. I would come back for him as soon as I could, and hope that no one else found him in the meantime. I ran all the way to my house, where I knew I'd be safe because I'd bought it in the future under a different name. It couldn't be traced to me.

Later, I snuck back into the Foundation, this time to get Devon out. I saw Devon's former secretaries causing a scene. They remained loyal to Devon and refused to do anything Maddock said. They were waiting for Devon to come out of an office, so I blended in and waited with them. When Devon emerged, I ran up to him and told him I was there to take him away, but he cut me off and told me to run. He pulled back his left sleeve and said that Maddock had had a listening device implanted in his arm and he was afraid I may have just been overheard. So I ran for it.

Then, Devon, Michael, Bonnie and I were all at my house, now our safe house. (The dream didn't show how we all got there.) Devon got a shower while I took Michael and Bonnie through my memorized trail of rooftops to retrieve Kitt so we could begin rebuilding him. They stayed below the balcony, and I lowered Kitt's body and his VCR-sized "brainbox" down to them.

When we returned to the safe house, I discovered Maddock lived across the street where we could watch him. He had no clue we were there. I stood on the porch, disguised, and watched him as I smoked a cigarette.

I went back inside for a shower. As I was about to enter the bathroom, I saw Devon walk by the end of the hall. Even though I knew he'd just had a shower, I asked, "Wanna shower with me?"

He was surprised by this and looked around to make sure the others hadn't heard. "I won't say 'yes,' but I won't say 'no,' either," he said.

"Well, at least you didn't say 'no,'" I said with a smile.

"Let me get another shirt and I'll be right there," he told me.

"You don't need another shirt," I called after him as he headed to his room.

And here, the dream cruelly ended. I would have liked that shower with Devon.

And speak of the devil — or half-devil, anyway — Vergil was here. Only, he seemed as surprised as Dante to find the other here in this silent, decaying, and all but abandoned city. And before either knew it, they were in another sword fight. Swords were soon abandoned, however, and they were wrestling on the ground. At one point, when Dante was able to get atop Vergil, a large and magically powerful four-pronged bullet struck him in the cheek. The brothers' fight was over. Vergil backed away, as shocked as Dante. Dante could feel the power of the magical bullet seep into him like a slow-working poison, and he knew he was going to die.

Dante had been taken to a squalid medical facility in the slums, he assumed by his brother, for he had no memory of it and there had been no one else around. No one but his assassin, his son, who hadn't even been born yet. At least Vergil hadn't left him in the vacant city street to die. And death was close, indeed. He sent for his twin, but died before Vergil could make it to his bedside.

At the moment of his death, I entered and used his body to communicate with Vergil. I let Vergil know from the beginning that he was not in the presence of his brother. I told him Dante was dead, as he'd wanted for so long, but that he would only remain dead if he, Vergil, completed the broken cycle of the time line, repairing the paradox his nephew had created by travelling back in time to kill his own father. Vergil would have to fulfill the prophecy: "The son of Dante will become the son of Vergil and one day destroy his true father."

There was a woman out there who wasn't yet aware that she had conceived during her one-night stand with Dante. Vergil had to find her, and become the surrogate father to his hated brother's bastard son. As he left the room, I released Dante to his death. I heard a mention that his body would be taken to Garamond Cemetery as I left.

Then, I visited the future to see how Vergil had fared with the boy. Vergil was driving his wife and son home from a family trip. He was the ideal father and provided well for them both. They owned a nice house in the suburbs, a high-class community. Vergil looked pretentious in his off-white, long-sleeved golf sweater and khaki slacks.

His "son" was uneasy that night as they unpacked. {I'll call him "Draco" since he looked exactly like Draco Malfoy from Harry Potter.} Draco didn't want to be around the man he called "father." (He knew nothing of Dante.) I overshadowed his mother, so it was me he approached with his concerns. Though he was about thirteen years old, he appeared much younger due to the unconcealed fear in his face. He knew his father was about to send him to carry out some evil deed and he wouldn't have a choice in the matter. Somehow, he already knew he would be asked — no, commanded — to kill. Draco was not evil by nature, not a killer, but he couldn't disobey his father. I tried to comfort him, tried to make him see how it would be an honor to be given such a task by a man such as his father, but it didn't help. And as soon as he walked back into view of his father, he was called for a father-and-son talk. Vergil was about to complete his task, knowing the boy would succeed.

I went back in time. I was in that old, rotting city amusing myself by slicing people in half using Vergil's Yamato with a flick of my wrist. The blade wasn't seen as it sliced; it was too quick. I enjoyed watching the top halves of people fall away before their legs crumpled to the ground. I stopped at an old-style theater and looked to the roof. A friend of Vergil's, a woman with a tan-and white-striped cat's head, peered down at me. To avoid drawing too much attention to either of us, I mouthed to her, "Where is Vergil?" Her eyes opened wide as she understood. "Oh? Vergil? Hold on. I'll see if he's up here," she half-mouthed, half-gestured. She came back a moment later. "Sorry," she mouthed with a shrug.

I moved on and someone told me to check out what was on a wide-screen TV. It was Capcom's trailer for Devil May Cry 4. On the logo screen at the end of the trailer was a white background with Dante, dressed as he was in the first game, standing in the center. A large silver "D" floated on one side of his head, a similar "4" on the other, to represent "Devil May Cry 4."

Next, I found myself in a large, empty warehouse — empty except for Vergil, sitting at the edge of the loading bay. I had Dante's point of view as he walked up to his brother. "Hey, can we talk?" he asked. There seemed to be an uneasy distance between them already, but the unmasked hatred was not yet in place. Dante sat facing Vergil, but to his brother's side so they could be close. "I want to talk to you about something, but I may be sealing my fate and handing you victory if I do." Despite the quite likely possibility that Vergil would shrug him off, Dante placed an affectionate hand on Vergil's shoulder, and they hugged.

They took a walk along the city's narrow water conduit. Vergil listened as Dante explained what he believed would happen to himself in the future, what he believed couldn't be changed. Vergil stopped suddenly when he understood what Dante was asking. Dante preferred that his twin kill him now, rather than be killed by his own son who was raised by a version of his brother whom he would truly despise in that future time. It was a matter of dying with dignity by the hand of one of his choosing. To prove his sincerity, Dante removed his sword and dropped it point-first into the shallow conduit, but then changed his mind and picked it up again to give it to Vergil instead.

"I'd like to ask you to run me through with my own sword, but—"

"But we don't even know of a sword that can kill either of us," Vergil finished. Dante gave him a "you see my predicament" look.

Then, I was alone with Vergil in some kind of office. He was telling about how he'd tried to talk a woman into stabbing him with his own sword. She thought he was crazy; she refused and left. As he was telling me this, his sword was lying atop the desk where the woman had been sitting. His hand slipped and hit his sword, causing it to flip high into the air. In slow motion, it came point-down into his chest. It still spun from its momentum inside Vergil's body. He fell backwards, but I caught him. His head landed on my forearm. The sword's hilt exited through Vergil's left calf. The Divinity Statue theme played in the background, then I realized I was singing it. It was actually a healing spell. When the tune was over, Vergil said to me, "I'm fine. What are you doing? Serenading me?" I gave him a go-to-hell glare and left him in the room to finish healing.

I was at a futuristic vacation resort where Cylons were available to the guests for engaging in recreational physical and mental games. My husband was fighting one in hand-to-hand combat as I watched. He had to leave for a few minutes and considered asking me to take over until he returned, but I talked him into finishing the match another time, telling him that I'd most likely lose his game before he could get back. He left and I took a walk through the hallways.

I had seen a Cylon and a woman playing an intense trivia game, and decided I wanted to do the same. As I searched for an available Cylon, I ran into the administrator, who was Richard Lynch, and asked him if he could arrange a Cylon for me. In a rather hostile tone of voice he insisted that the Cylons did not play "mind games." His attitude intimidated me. I bowed submissively and moved away from him.

Later, I sat alone at a table in the back of the resort's restaurant area. Mr. Lynch was at a table partially hidden by a decorative plant. I could see most of him, but he couldn't see me. A young blonde and her accompanying Cylon joined his table. After a moment, I witnessed a scuffle between the woman and Cylon. The Cylon seemed to have malfunctioned and turned on the guest. Rather than try to help the woman, Mr. Lynch pulled out a long silver dagger and stabbed the girl twice in the neck. She slumped dead into an unnatural position in her seat. The Cylon left and Mr. Lynch repositioned the girl's body to appear as though she were only comfortably dozing.

Then he spotted me. He invited me to his table, offered me the seat opposite the corpse, and had food brought for me. I knew he was testing me; he suspected I had seen him murder the girl. I ate and conversed with him in quiet tones, pretending that I believed the other guest to be sleeping. I was amazed at my composure while sitting across from a bluing corpse.

Finally, I was allowed to leave his table, and then I left the resort as quickly as possible. As I drove away in an 80's model white car, the dream's storyline changed. Instead of fleeing the resort, I was trying to evade a large group of Death Eaters. They were everywhere in the town, chasing me on foot, in cars — even some of the cops were Death Eaters.

I had memories of having been at a large gathering of theirs. I was unknowingly among their potential recruits. But when I finally understood where I was and what was going on, I left. I had soon learned, though, that leaving was not an option.

I was captured. A snobbish-looking, petite, older woman with blonde hair climbed into my car next to me. With an underlying tone of obey-us-or-we'll-kill-you, she "reminded" me what I was supposed to do once I was taken back to their group.

To become a Death Eater, you had to recite a spell while of a mindset of determination to become one. The ritual was complete when the person's body took on the pale look and foul odor of a dead body.

During my initiation ceremony, I tried to sound as if I was reciting the transformation spell in earnest, but in my mind I fought against the tiniest inkling of possibly becoming one of them and tried to think of a way out. Then, halfway through the ritual, a man to my left began coughing like he was choking. I took advantage of the ensuing commotion and slipped through the door just beyond the choking man. Once outside, I ran to my car and drove away as fast as possible.

Soon, there were cars in front of and beside me. These people were trying to direct me to safety. We all stopped, and I was told that the only way to be free of the Death Eaters was to join their group, which was the opposite of the Death Eaters. I told them that I didn't want to join anyone. I only wanted to get away from all of them.

I was about to do just that when one of their group came running up saying that Death Eaters had possessed K.I.T.T. (the car from Knight Rider) and that a Death Eater, who was also a policeman, was driving it. I decided to stay to help them capture the man and rid K.I.T.T. of the Death Eaters' influence. We succeeded.

Suddenly, I knew how to reverse the transformation — to make a Death Eater normal again. First, I had to join the "good guys'" group. I ran into their building (which looked like a chapel on the inside), recited their ritual spell with the appropriate mindset, and paid their fee (hmm...you didn't have to pay to be a Death Eater). Second, I had to take our prisoner back to the Death Eaters' unholy chapel. When we got there, I burst in, interrupting Severus Snape as he sermonized to the congregation, and shoved my captive to the front. Snape stepped down hastily and I took his place.

Holding the man still in front of me, I shouted, "You will take back what you gave this man!"

I then placed my lips on the back of the man's neck and blew. My breath was not restricted. It flowed through his skin, and through the front of his neck, a light blue cloud of evil was forced out. As it hovered before us, I told the man that he must renounce the evil that had entered him in order to be wholly purged of it.

Though in a stupor, he forced himself to focus on completing the purging. "I renounce you and all your ways!" he yelled hatefully to the cloud. Then to the assembled Death Eaters, he yelled, "Curse you, Death Eaters!"

As I escorted the cleansed man from the building, I offered Snape a sarcastic apology for the interruption.

Later, back at the good guys' place, I asked the leader of their group what they called themselves. I hadn't bothered to ask when I had joined. He told me they were the "Life Eaters" (go figure). Then I asked, "Why do newly made Death Eaters smell like rot?" He answered, "Because angels have never touched that place."

To my friend, I said something under my breath like, "Oh just great."

The girl walked over to me and asked how I was. I didn't want to look at her, so I looked at the dim yellow lights on the ceiling instead. I told her I was fine, and also told her that Severus [Snape] was the father of my child. I think I meant to impress her with that bit of information, but she didn't react to it.

Making small talk, she asked, "Did you and Severus get married?"

I decided to be honest with her. "No," I said, "but we plan to get married as soon as Voldemort is destroyed."

I went on to admit that the pregnancy wasn't planned, and that it was untimely with the war going on against the Death Eaters, but that we were happy all the same. And that's all I remember.

A friend found me and said she had to talk to me for a moment. She informed me that Legate Damar (ST:DS9) needed to see me, that he was actually in the back of the store waiting for me to report to him. She told me that it was about getting his permission to buy writing supplies — permission to write a book at all! I was instantly furious at the absurdity of it. I dropped everything and heatedly made my way toward the back of the store to confront him.

I found him supervising a team of Cardassian officers who were inspecting crates of green yarn laid out on a very long, narrow table. Our argument began immediately from opposite sides of the table. It ended with me basically telling him off and leaving.

Later, my friend, Pythas*, (another high-ranking Cardassian officer) told me that Damar was only looking out for me by making sure I conformed to the laws regarding freedoms of expression so I wouldn't be arrested. After understanding this, I wasn't so angry anymore.

Soon, however, when I learned that the subject of my book had to first be approved by Damar, I lost control of my temper completely. Our second confrontation was much, much worse than the first. I yelled at him, knocked things from shelves, kicked chairs, broke anything within reach, even flipped a glass table covered with delicate, expensive equipment. I did everything but attack him physically.

When there was nothing left to destroy, I stormed out, but I didn't get far before dropping to the floor in tears. I hated myself for what I'd just done. I sat on the floor with my back against a wall. I looked back toward the room I'd just trashed, saw the destruction, saw Damar moving calmly amongst it all, and hated myself even more. I knew he hadn't deserved any of it. I knew I'd really hurt him this time. (I knew he had feelings for me.)

The situation was so bad that Pythas seemed to have decided that Damar needed a friend more than I did. I didn't blame him for not wanting to be around me, and I felt ashamed to have driven a good friend away.

I went to calm down in an empty map room. I had walked past a room where Pythas and Damar were, but I made a point not to look their direction. In the map room, there was a large map marking city sectors on a monitor that covered an entire side wall. I said aloud the word "revert" to reduce its magnification, took the seat in front of the central control panel, and stared up at another map on a screen above my position.

I heard someone walk into the room behind me and spun my chair around. It was Pythas; I was afraid it would be Damar. Pythas asked me if I planned to do any damage to the map room, so I knew for certain that he knew what I had done to that other room. When I didn't answer, he took a seat to my left, crossed his arms, and kept his silence, too.

Finally, I had to let it out. I closed my eyes and said angrily, "I love him, Pythas. Damn it, I don't want to, but I do!"

I had actually loved Damar the whole time, but whenever I was around him, all I could do was rage at him. And he took it every time — he never tried to prevent me from destroying anything, never seemed to take offense as I screamed insults at him. And that made it all worse for me.

The last thing I remember is Damar walking into the room as Pythas pinned an insignia to my shirt that gave me clearance to write whatever I wished. Pythas had pulled a few strings (both for my sake and Damar's). Damar and I wouldn't have to fight about it anymore. I left the dream feeling that Damar and I might finally begin a worthwhile relationship.

* {"Pythas" might not have been my Cardassian friend's name. I only remember that he had a Cardassian name with a "th" somewhere in the middle, so, for this dream description, I've decided to use "Pythas" as in "Pythas Lok" from Andrew Robinson's ST:DS9 novel, A Stitch in Time.}

Our break was almost over. I had to go out to my car to get my books for the next class. I knew he was watching me as I stood and fished my car keys out of my pocket.

{dream distraction here:} As I walked by the end of my table, I saw a book that looked just like my Ludlum novel among piles of schoolbags, other books, coats, and purses where a group of younger black girls were sitting and talking. Certain it was mine, I reached right between two girls and picked up the book. I opened the front cover and saw that the title was different. To cover my mistake, I simply replaced the book and mentioned that I was a Ludlum fan, too, and that I liked the owner's taste in books. Then, I went on to the door leading outside, where I could see bright sunshine, and opened it.

The next thing I remember is my friend and I half-heartedly playing a game of chase around the steps and columns just outside one end of the building. Professor Snape came out the door, and we both stopped playing. Snape was wearing a purple cloak; I had only ever seen him in black. He pretended not to see us — there's no way he didn't know we were there — and walked to the bottom of the stairs. There he stopped and simply stood. My friend and I decided to continue with our game despite his presence. Then, Professor Snape transformed into a black dog and soon cornered me against the walls at the top of the stairs. I froze there in confusion, not knowing what I was expected to do. He apparently sensed this because he walked back to the middle of the top step, transformed back to normal, and started looking over papers he had brought with him.

I walked behind him and watched him for a while. I felt bad for not catching on that he only wanted to play with me/us, so I walked past him and purposely bumped his left shoulder with my right leg as I went. He ignored me completely. I walked back behind him again, intending to bump him hard enough the second time that he would have to react. Just as I reached him, he turned his head and said something to me, catching me off guard. Then he reached up and started tickling me! I actually felt tickled in the dream the same as it feels in real life, and I couldn't help but squeal and laugh uncontrollably — and he seemed to be enjoying every second of it. I tried to tickle him back, but he was obviously not nearly as sensitive as I was because he was definitely getting the better of me.

The next thing I remember is going to meet Professor Snape, at his request, in the staff's break room. When I walked in, my friend was there with him, and I had the feeling that something was up. They were standing on opposite sides of a large round table in the center of the room. At first, they both just stared at me, but then, Snape started advancing on me. I instinctively edged around the table, keeping as much of it between us as I could. Before I knew it, I had allowed myself to be trapped by them. Snape had obviously talked my friend into helping him with this. They blocked both ways around the table, and I was trapped, cornered, between two walls of cabinets. I didn't feel as if I was in any danger; I could definitely sense a playfulness in both of them.

Snape put his hand to my lips and I kissed it. We were soon naked on the white floor under the table. He was running his hands all over me as I kissed his neck, his chest, his nipples.

A girl suddenly interrupted us, crawling underneath the table and demanding sex from Snape. He immediately began fucking her as I watched. I noticed he wasn't wearing a condom and I didn't much care for the idea of being fucked immediately after her. I turned to my friend, who was to my left under the table with the rest of us, and asked him if he had a condom. He said he didn't. To which I said something like, "Oh come on, man. Surely you keep condoms with you." But he said he really didn't have any.

The girl left and Snape's attention immediately returned to me, and we carried on as before, as if the girl had never been there. Then I noticed that the door was open a few inches. Through the gap, and through the window in the door, I could see students walking through the hall just outside. I was afraid we'd be caught. I tried to bring this to his attention, but he wouldn't listen. He was halfway on top of me, still kissing and caressing me with total abandon, when I saw a male teacher and a male student stop at the door. It was clear that they had been about to enter, but now they just stood watching us in shock.

Finally, Snape looked up at the door, but he didn't seem to care that we had been discovered. My hand was on his chest as I kept looking from the door to him, trying to read his expression, trying to get an idea of what to do. Other students were now craning their necks to get a look at what it was that had a teacher and student transfixed at the threshold. I watched as the teacher finally moved away from the door. I expected big trouble any minute, but still, Snape didn't look at me or even care to get up and get dressed.

I said to him, "They won't let you come back [to teach] after this.... And if you're not coming back, I'm not coming back."

He was clearly alarmed at my pronouncement. "You must!" he whispered urgently. "You must come back and learn everything you can!"

"But you're the only reason I'm even here," I told him. And his next expression was easily read: He regretted having ever thought to pursue me; everything in whatever plan he might have had seemed to have backfired when I uttered these words.

Later, I quietly walked through a hall toward the principal's office. I thought I heard shouting, a heated argument, from within, but I realized that a TV had been left on in the office. Still, I looked through the window in the door, but didn't see anybody inside.

Then a voice startled me. A girl sitting on the floor in front of a door far to my right had said, "You won't see anything in there half as interesting as what everyone saw you and Professor Snape doing through the window of that other room."

I grinned sheepishly and went over and sat down beside her. I didn't know her name; she was neither pretty nor popular. And she very much reminded me of Luna Lovegood. She had long, unruly, dirty blond hair that looked like it wanted to be curly, but couldn't be bothered to give it true effort.

As expected, she told me that everyone was talking about me and Professor Snape. This didn't have an effect on me since I had instantly felt like an outcast as soon as Snape and I had been seen. But then she told me something I didn't expect to hear. She said that everyone was talking about how cool it was that we were bold enough to use the staff room during school hours, and that everyone — male and female — said that I was a lucky girl to have caught Snape's eye. This really cheered me up, though I wasn't sure it should. But at least, according to her, I wasn't being hatefully scorned.

She then gave me a very small and very pink airplane earring. I thought it quite a strange thing for her to suddenly do, but then, she was quite a strange girl. I put the earring on. She recommended that I point it upwards since it would look so much cooler that way. I obliged and she was happy.

I left her and walked out of the building. It was a beautiful day. The late afternoon sun cast a hazy, golden glow over the lush grounds. I felt a mixture of serenity and sadness as I considered my future, and Snape's, at the school.

I went home. I was standing at my sink, washing a few cups and spoons, I think, and enjoying the way the sun's golden rays made my kitchen look. I was reminded of the school grounds from a short time earlier. Then, I thought back to the letter, the invitation from that special school, that started it all. And here came the conflict that brought me out of the dream. I couldn't remember the actual letter. I also clearly remembered graduating high school when I should have left for the special school years before graduating. I was staring into my sink, trying to make sense of my own past, and then woke up.

The next thing I remember is being in a village where the people were paying tribute to me as the new Dungeon Master by each placing a crystal stick in a shallow white box. Soon, the box was overflowing. I appreciated the gesture, but I wished they weren't doing it since I was only temporary. But I didn't say anything because I didn't want to be disrespectful to their customs.

As I watched the villagers carefully stack the crystal sticks, I was distracted with thoughts of the power of a Dungeon Master. I remembered the "fun" the previous Dungeon Master had had before Warduke had captured him. But I found I wasn't at all tempted toward frivolity or abuse of the power.

It was a bright and sunny day and I was in a room at an inn with Presto, who was wearing a white, long-sleeved pullover and off-white jeans. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, talking to me as I paced the length of the small room, but I was too distracted to hear a word of whatever he was saying.

The door wasn't closed all the way and I could see Venger pacing outside, like he couldn't make up his mind about coming in. I went closer to the door to better see him. He was facing to my left, but had twisted to his right to look at something. Standing like this, the toned muscles of his torso were easily visible through his tight red top. I felt a shock of arousal course through me, but I forced such thoughts from my mind and opened the door. He rushed right past me as if he wanted to give the impression that he'd only just reached the door as I'd opened it.

"I need to talk to you," he said as he went by me.

"I know. I need to talk to you, too. But, first, get rid of Presto."

Venger half turned and impatiently flung an arm in Presto's general direction. Presto vanished just as he lifted his head and went wide-eyed in alarm at the idea of Venger "getting rid of him."

I don't remember the beginning of our conversation, but we talked civilly until he took a threatening tone. But something wasn't right with him. I could hear in his voice that he was having trouble maintaining his usual malice, and I knew exactly what was happening to him.

I told him that I knew he couldn't carry out his threats. And I did know this. I knew that he wasn't entirely incapable of evil, but that he was very averse to it now. His response was to dig the fingertips of his right hand into my left cheek as if about to rip my face off. I didn't so much as flinch; he wasn't hurting me at all.

I said, evenly, "I know you won't hurt me, Venger."

He held his hand there a few seconds more, trying to defy the changes in himself, but then finally removed it when he realized I was right. He backed away from me until his shoulder hit the mantle of the fireplace behind him. "I'm warning you," he said.

"Don't you see?" I asked, wanting to make him understand what was happening to him. "If the Realm is powerful enough to choose its own master, then it's powerful enough to purge you of Evil!" (It made sense in the dream, OK?)

Then, I quickly closed the space between us and surprised him with a kiss. As the shock of it wore off, he put his right arm around my waist, but then he eased me back, and I rested my hand against his chest. He looked as though he had just thought of something very important, and I knew the Realm had just called to him.

"I have to go," he said.

"I know." I knew that he was becoming Dungeon Master and felt compelled to go where the Realm wanted him to go and do what it wanted him to do. That's what it was to be Dungeon Master. He disappeared, and I was alone.

It was night. Still retaining a little of the power of a Dungeon Master, I transported myself to where Presto and the others were. I tried to explain to Presto what I'd discovered about the Realm and Venger and the role of a Dungeon Master, but he couldn't understand. I looked around, wishing there was someone there who could understand, and I saw the old Dungeon Master sitting in a wheelchair about fifty feet to my left. I walked over and sat on the ground beside him.

"You understand," I said.

He nodded. "Tell me what you've learned."

I explained that I understood that there was a sentience to the Realm, and that I understood its power. I knew that it hadn't purified Venger before because Venger was not yet its to change for its use. It all made perfect sense.

Then we — Old Dungeon Master, the Young Ones, and I — were in a brightly lit bedroom. Eric was standing close to me, but still kept his distance. Dungeon Master looked at both of us and said, "It's OK." He meant that it was alright for us to show our affection since we were boyfriend and girlfriend after all. Eric and I put an arm around each other like we were just pals. Then Dungeon Master said again, "It's OK, go ahead," so Eric and I held each other.

As we embraced I said the word "Meridian" twice. I didn't realize I had spoken until I finished the word the second time. It was either Diana or Sheila (who were standing next to each other) who asked me, "Why did you say 'Meridian'?"

I felt a little embarrassed, but decided to confess. "I said it because I know that's where Venger is...and I love him, too." Eric looked a little disappointed, but he didn't say anything.

I then transported us all, except the old Dungeon Master, to Meridian. We witnessed a small group of animagi who would sneak into villages as foxes and steal from people. They would take their loot to horse-drawn carriages hidden in the woods. We watched as Venger turned them all black — the animagi, the carriages, and the horses — and banished them to the woods they had been hiding in. As their punishment, they wouldn't be able to leave the woods, transform, or be seen as anything other than black figures with green fluorescent outlines for many years.

With a smile, Diana said, "If this is the adventure that comes with a new Dungeon Master, then we have our work cut out for us."

They all exchanged smiles, and I knew that they would begin another era as champions of the Realm under a new guide.

And then a strange ending to the dream: As Diana was finishing that last line, I found myself sitting watching them on TV. I thought to myself, "Cool! New episodes! I'm so glad they've brought this show back!"

He approached me and congratulated me on my single move that had taken me nearly to the end of his gauntlet. Seeing my confusion, he explained that people from the audience could come up and test their skills. The goal was to make it from one corner of the stage to the opposite corner without touching the floor. No one else had made it so far so quickly (no one had been able to make it as far as I had at all).

He went on to explain that there were angels and demons flying around that one could ask for help. But looks could be deceiving. You couldn't know whether they would help or hinder you when asked for their assistance. An angel might throw you back to the beginning or knock you down, and a demon might safely carry you to the next column. When I looked up at these angels and demons, I couldn't tell if they were people in costumes or the real things.

Manson seemed eager to know how I would proceed. I hated to disappoint him, but I explained that I hadn't even been aware of these circumstances, that I had only been trying to get to the other side. Instead of being disappointed, he looked more impressed than before. He looked at my clothes like it all made sense since I wasn't dressed for his concert. He also didn't know what to think of how calmly I handled myself in the situation. He found me interesting and didn't want me to leave.

Then there was an intermission. I told him I had to go. He made me promise to come back when the second half of the concert started. I had to agree in order to leave because he wouldn't stop trying to persuade me.

My cousin, L, found me among the crowd and told me she'd been looking for me so she could invite me to go with her to the concert, but she hadn't been able to find me. She had already bought a ticket for me. But she didn't want to go back for the second half because Manson had shown interest in me, and she felt there was no way he would notice her now. I told her I didn't care about Manson and didn't want to go back. I told her that it'd be cool to be there with her, but she still refused. She gave me her black clip-on tie — so I could look at least a little fashionable when I went back, she told me (she had fully dressed up Manson-style for the occasion and the black ties were part of it).

So, I went back, dreading it all the way. Manson was very glad that I returned. He really seemed to want to get to know me. He treated me like a rare and unique thing that he didn't want to lose. And that's about all I remember.