Silence, broken only by the whispers of unknown forces swirling within the OCULUS - matter and unmatter chasing one another, twisting in whorls, two parts of a trinary joining to sustain the bridge between realms.  The darkness of the room, despite its permeation, feels to [ VEIL ] like curtains closing at a play's end.  For a moment, he feels a sense of finality - nearly peace.  He takes a step toward the OCULUS' deep glow, and its infinite dance is interrupted.  Particles swirl one last time in the now-empty space, each following their partners into obscurity.  The room is ink-black for a moment - then bathed, harshly, in a murderous red.

Shouting, from the hallway - the single exit from the room.  [ VEIL ]'s hand moves unconsciously to the hilt of the blade tucked in his cloak.  Five guards in light body armor charge into the room, electric batons buzzing in-hand.  They advance quickly, demanding cooperation.  Raised voices echo chaotically off of the vaulted ceiling, the floor, the walls.  [ VEIL ]'s eyes dart between each of the men.  One breaks from the group to approach him, baton-first, finger on the trigger.

"YOU ARE NOT MEANT TO BE HERE; YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE EVEN BEEN ABLE TO GET IN TO THIS BUILDING."  The guard falters, lowering his baton.  "WHO ARE YOU?"

A second guard, restless, zaps his baton at the air.  "ASK YOUR QUESTIONS LATER.  WE AREN'T HERE TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH A SPECTRE.  CUFF HIM, AND LET'S GO."

"HE'S NOT A SPECTRE.  HOW --"  The first guard is cut off by the second pushing roughly past him to capture the cloaked intruder.  "COME WITH US."

[ VEIL ] takes a step backwards, willing his blade from the hilt under his cloak.  The guard closest sees a glint of dark steel and unmatter glow, and his eyes widen.  He thrusts his baton at [ VEIL ], trigger pulled.  In one motion, [ VEIL ] redirects the weapon with enough force to dislodge the guard's grip and send it skidding across the damp floor, electricity arcing along its path.  [ VEIL ] releases his concentration on the blade and swings the heavy hilt, hard, into the guard's chest.  The man falls, gasping for air, at the feet of the other guards.

-

An alarm sounds from the computer speakers, waking its operator with a start.  Limbs heavy with sleep, the operator mutes the alarm and turns his monitors back on, squinting from the backlight.  Stretch arms.  Wiggle mouse.  Input username, password.  Log in.  Familiar wallpaper, and - unusual red popup.  He clicks on the mysterious notification and his blood runs cold.  CODE 741.

"FUCK."

Switch to second monitor.  Open camera feed software.  Flip through camera feeds.

CAM1.  CAM2.  CAM3.  Nothing.

CAM4.  CAM5.  CAM6.  False alarm?

CAM7 -- five men, lying on the floor of the OCULUS chamber, clutching wounds.  An unknown, cloaked figure, walking away through crimson light.  "IS THAT...?"

Back to monitor one.  Open dream image query software.

OPEN>
SELECT [ALL_DATA] FROM ARGULTRA
WHERE [SUBJECT_NAME] == "[ VEIL ]"
RUN>

A direct message to the Dream Storage Manager: "INITIATE PROTOCOL: WRATH.  IMPORTANCE: 5.  SUBJECT: [ VEIL ].  STACK: 4B-F11."

-

He slid the DID back into its stack, pushing until he hears a click, and the indicator LED flashes green.  Closing the glass partition door, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket.  Five short pulses, then one long.  IMPORTANCE LEVEL 5?  ARGOS employees aren't meant to use anything above four.  He pulled his phone out, eyes widening as he read the message.  Turning quickly on his heel, he takes off at a sprint.

Arriving at Stack 4B, he unlocks the glass partition and follows the notation system to F11.  He disengages the safety mechanism and slides the DID out of its place in the stack, flipping it over to reveal the WRATH drive slot on its underside.  Every Dream Storage worker carries at least two WRATH drives, encased in a protective acrylic case.  He reaches in his pocket and thumbs the case open, taking the drive out carefully - ensuring not to touch the connector pins as he removes it - and pushes the drive into the slot in the DID.  Protocol states that all DIDs exposed to WRATH are returned to their place in their Stack and monitored closely, so he replaces the disk, pushing it in until the safety mechanism clicks again.

The indicator LED flashes green for a moment, then burns red.

"IT'S DONE."

-

The blade, the hilt, his hands - slick with blood.  Crimson trails on the ground behind him, as he sprints back through the halls of the ARGOS DEEP.  More red lights around every corner, lining every hallway.  Finally, the labyrinth relents: the exit door, just ahead.  [ VEIL ] approaches quickly, ready to push back into the Ouroboros outside, then --

An opacity, grey-black, phases unhindered through the metal of the door, floating through the air with unnatural stillness.  [ VEIL ] feels the air around him freeze, sees his breath condense in front of him.  He turns to run away.  ( Like moving through water. )  No matter how quickly he tries to run, he feels weighted, slow.  The opacity continues forward, unaffected, drawing closer.  Sleep pulls at [ VEIL ]'s eyelids.  His limbs grow heavy; his vision, blurred.  He tries to scream and feels the sound catch in his throat.

[ VEIL ] wracks his brain, trying to conjure enough concentration to will his sword back into existence, until he feels a frigid presence pass through him.  He falls to his knees, collapsing into a heap on the floor.

The opacity dissipates from around [ VEIL ]'s form, now faded into translucency.

He is still.

Less than a dream.