Diego Torres was wrong. It’s not the creature that’s in danger.

It seems cornered between the thugs’ laughter and the shifting walls of the alley. Its smoky fur, blue pupils, paws like hands gripping the ground. But the vapor emanating from its tense back fluctuates around it like a monstrous purple shadow.

In the inspector’s eyes, the narrow alley warps, unable to contain it, and yet, the humans seem oblivious to the nightmare.

Because that’s exactly what it is. The embodiment of every childhood fear he ever had of black cats—or maybe stray dogs. And not just his fears; all of humanity’s terrors had given it shape.

There it was, that feline chimera, playing cat and mouse with its pursuers.

Torres’s police instinct now watches them closely. There are three. And they’re the first humans he’s seen since he woke up. There’s something unstable about them, as if their outlines were being redrawn over and over. Certainly much more unstable than the small creature they’re chasing or the alley walls they’re advancing through, leaving a thick red trail behind.

They have vaguely familiar forms. A girl around fifteen with green braided hair and futuristic clothes. A half-cyborg man in a trench coat with half his face broken off like Terminator. An old woman with the look of a wicked witch, tight jeans under her cape, and a metal bat instead of a broom.

I’m so done, thought Torres. Not even in dreams can I escape alleys full of crap. Beatings, the mistreatment of the unknown. And freaks. Because damn, what a trio, my friend. Where did this bunch come from?

From this city, or whatever it is, and he looks up at the glowing antenna.

Now he can see more clearly the flow of energy surrounding it.

It’s a whirlwind of human silhouettes materializing as they pass through the Dream Sphere, as if drawn from stardust towards the tower by a giant magnet. Then they fall, like raindrops not yet condensed, and pass through the buildings’ walls to settle in a safe place to wake up. Then they rise, their outlines still unsteady, and plunge into the streets filled with dreams to be fulfilled.

Torres stands on the rooftop and lets his gaze wander over the edges of the City.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The Sphere itself fluctuates; entire neighborhoods seem to rise and fall slowly, merging and mutating in an imperceptible yet unceasing manner. Only the colossal scarlet antenna and the dense white Moon remain unchanged.

Suddenly, the creature’s blue eyes lock onto his. And the others see him too.

“Hey, you, get lost!”
“Shut up, idiot,” growls the witch.
“If it’s a Rover, we’re screwed,” says the green-haired girl, resting her bat on the ground with a playful pout.
“You noticed too?”
“Oops… maybe it’s just a rookie.”
“Who cares what it is? We’ve been on the hunt for two cycles, and I’m not leaving it unfinished.”
“Blair, darling, you didn’t tell me the Magic Fist folks were all brainless,” the girl quips, ignoring the cyborg.
“You’re crazy, babe, but I like you.”
“Hello, Mr. Cliché, did you say something?”
“Shut up, lovebirds! And you, get down here or you’ll put us all in danger,” invites the witch.
“Just what we needed, a rookie,” the cyborg sighs.

The creature also seems to invite him to the party, so Diego Torres descends… or that’s what he thought he’d do. Because what happens is he takes a step on the rooftop, and the next instant, he’s beside the hunters, a bat in his hands.

“What do you think you’re doing, old woman?”
“I love your sense of humor, Blair,” the girl moans, stifling a laugh.
“Listen, rookie. That cute kitty over there is an intelidogui. A pricey nightmare. The Collectors pay well for them, so as a thank you for saving your ass, you’re going to give us a hand. Hold the stick tight. Hit hard if the kitty comes for you.”
“Your turn, you lunatic!”
“Goddamn, I swear to all that’s holy!”

And with a war cry, the cyborg charges at his prey, while the creature licks its lips in the darkness.