I am biking along a road at night time. It is war and I am amidst a terrain where innumerable parachuters are landing. I look up and see them as grey round shapes slowly lowering toward the ground. I hear thumps as they land some 100 yards away, and I also hear voices. They try to locate each other. I continue along the road. Now I am driving a car on an icy road. I am driving fast and am almost incapable of controlling my car. I approach a curve and I see a grey mash of ice covering the road, and on the road dozens of parachuters are in the process of collecting themselves after the jump. I have to figure out a way to avoid colliding into them. I manage to steer in between two groups of soldiers. The way I am heading is straight into the war zone.

I am in my grandmother's bedroom. A window is open and I climb out through the window and walk along the small grassy path near the wall of the house.