Something was very wrong here. More so than before. It was as if he were in a dream that kept changing. But it felt so real.
Ramirez stood up with ease. He felt as if he had suddenly lost 50 pounds, but feeling his arms and legs, they were as muscular as ever.
His shouting contained clues as to when the moment of change occurred. One moment it sounded as if he were in some kind of basement. The next, as if he were in a large metal room, his voice reverberating off the walls.
His voice was not the only sound in the room. A very low hum seemed to encompass the room, probably some kind of climate control. But there was something else. Something faint, just a few feet away from him. It sounded like...breathing. He was not alone.
Kyle's dreams grew surprisingly pleasant. He dreamed of one of the men he had just killed, lying there motionless. Then the man slowly turned his head and looked up at Kyle. One would normally be horrified by such a sight but the man's face contained no malice. And as the man began to smile, forgiveness in his eyes, the sun sat on the horizon, the hot wind turning into a cool breeze, then the cool breeze turning into cold air...
The dream was interrupted by shouting.
"Somebody! Anybody! Where am I!?"
The cold air remained, and he could feel cold metal against his bare skin. He was certainly not in the vehicle he was in before he drifted off. He was in some kind of dark metal room. Silently feeling around for his gear, it was nowhere to be found. Kyle assessed his situation...