AUTHOR'S NOTE: This idea came to me from a computer game called "Lost in the City." It was developed by Elephant Games. This is also going to be one of my "heavier" stories, if you know what I mean. As always, The Impossibles and Big D belong to Hanna-Barbera. Some locations throughout the story belong to "Lost in the City." Everything else is mine. And just to drive the point across, in case you haven't figured it out. ALL the Impossibles' family situations are ones I made up.

It was quiet. Too quiet. Big D wandered along the streets of the deserted city, trying to figure out how he got there and what he was doing there. It was also snowing, which Big D found to be odd, considering it was the middle of July and Megatropolis was in the middle of a record heat wave.

But somehow, Big D knew he wasn't in Megatropolis anymore. All of a sudden, he heard gunshots ringing through the air, interrupting the deafening silence. Screams of terror followed, and more shots were fired. Big D started running to the source. Suddenly, he saw a figure taking shape before him. He couldn't make it out at first, but slowly, it came into view. It was Fluey, just standing there, staring at . . . . . no, it was more like he was staring through Big D. Fluey then slowly tried to reach for the chief. Big D started running faster, but it seemed he was moving in slow motion. The minute Big D got close, a gunshot rang out, and Fluey vanished. The next thing Big D knew, he was in the lobby of the Secret Security Headquarters, and it had looked like a massacre had taken place. Several agents were sprawled out on the floor, and blood was everywhere. Doing his best to stay calm, Big D began assessing the situation. What in the world happened?

As Big D investigated the room, he came across Multi, Coiley, and Skittles, laying on the floor in a pool of blood. Once he saw that terrifying sight, Big D found he couldn't remain calm. It would appear two of his top agents (three if you include Skittles) had been shot dead. Evil laughter was heard next, echoing all around the chief, and he found himself in that strange city again. Big D ran straight for one of the old, crumbling buildings, until an orb floating in midair flew into his face. In the orb, Big D saw three figures. One was Fluey, and he was tied to a chair. Big D didn't recognize the other two, but one was a man and the other a woman, and they were standing on either side of Fluey. The man was pointing a gun at him, and the woman was holding a knife right above him. The scene in the orb shifted to another seemingly empty room, with the exception of a coffin. Big D also saw himself in the orb, approaching the coffin with a crowbar. He pried the lid off the coffin, and inside was Fluey, laying unconscious. The scene froze for a moment or so. Big D wanted to look away, but he found he couldn't. The scene shifted once more. A large explosion was taking place, and all that was left of whatever this was, was a gigantic mushroom cloud. Finally, the scene shifted again to what appeared to be a cave. Big D once again saw himself, laying on the floor. Fluey was there as well, clinging to the chief, and in hysterics, screaming incoherently. Big D appeared to be asleep, except he wasn't asleep. Upon looking at his image in the orb, Big D realized he was . . . . . . .

Suddenly, Big D sat bolt upright, and took a few deep breaths. He looked around his surroundings, and found he was in his own bedroom in his home. He looked at his clock, and found it was only two in the morning. It was all just a nightmare, but that thought didn't set Big D's mind at ease. He had been having that same dream for the past three nights, and he couldn't understand it. What did it mean?

Big D then got up, threw on his bathrobe, and left his room. He walked down the hall, opened one of the doors slowly, and looked in. To his relief, he found Fluey sleeping peacefully, sprawled out on his back, with his arm hanging over the side of the bed. Big D walked further into the room, carefully lifted his grandson's hand, and placed it on his chest. Then he stroked the sleeping teenager's hair for a moment, and left the room.

By seven thirty, both Phyllis and Fluey were up, and in the kitchen. Phyllis was plugging in the coffee pot on the counter.

"Where's the chief?" Fluey asked, walking into the room.

"He left already," Phyllis said. "He left a note on the table. It said he had to talk to Dr. Phelps."

Fluey nodded, and started going through the newspaper for the comics section.

Meanwhile, Big D was over at the Secret Security Headquarters building with the facility's chief medical officer, Dr. Isaac Phelps.

"Run that by me again, chief," Dr. Phelps said. "You want to know about what?!"

"Recurring dreams," Big D said. "What do you know about them?"

"Not much. I'm a physician. Not a psychiatrist. All I know about them is they can represent a psychological disturbance, a lot of times a long-standing problem."

"I see . . . . ."

"Incidentally, chief, why do you ask? Is Fluey dealing with a recurring dream? I know he's prone to nightmares and all . . . . ."

"No, I was just curious, Phelps, that's all."

"You might want to talk to Danalleah. She might know more than I do."

"Ah yes. Our resident expert on the supernatural. I should have thought of her in the first place."

And with that, Big D left Dr. Phelps's office. Not once did Dr. Phelps suspect it was Big D himself having a recurring nightmare. And Big D knew he'd never hear the end of it if the agency found this out. They viewed him as a rock. Very few people have actually seen Big D lose control, and have a panic attack on the job before, and he intended to keep it that way.

A few hours later, Big D called Danalleah into his office.

"You wanted to see me, chief?" she asked.

"I did," Big D said. "Have a seat. I need to ask you something. What do you know about recurring dreams?"

"Recurring dreams? That's . . . . . kind of weird coming from you, chief."

"Yes, I'm aware of it. But do you know anything about them?"

"Well . . . . . I know they can be triggered by certain situations. They might be highlighting a personal weakness, or fear, or the inability to cope with something in life. Actually, I think that's part of the reason Fluey's so prone to nightmares, especially those nightmares he had right after the Manikatti incident."

"Yes, I'm are of that. But what I would really like to know is could a recurring nightmare be some sort of . . . . . omen?"

"An omen?!"

Danalleah looked at Big D as if he were crazy.

"Let me put it another way, Miss Critch," Big D said, after seeing the shocked look on Danalleah's face. "Do you know anything at all about dream interpretation?"

"A little bit," Danalleah said. "Is there anything specific you need to know?"

"No. I just need to know if a recurring dream could be an omen."

"Well . . . . it's possible. That's about all I can tell you."

"I see. Thank you very much, Miss Critch. I'll call you if I need any more information."

Danalleah nodded, and left the chief's office, feeling a bit confused. Why did he want to know so much about this subject, anyway?

The day wore on, and things were pretty normal around HQ. Big D was going through some paperwork when he heard something going on outside.

"Wait a minute!" he heard Phyllis shouted. "You can't go in there without an appointment!"

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a man ran in, slamming the door behind him, and pressing himself against it. He was tall and thin, with long, dark hair. He wore a black overcoat, blue jeans, and a T-shirt. Big D was not very happy with the intrusion.

"PLEASE!" the stranger screamed. He had a Russian accent. "You must help me, comrade! I am in HUGE trouble!"

"I'd say so," Big D said, glaring at this strange man. "What is the meaning of barging into my office like this?!"

"I tried to stop him, sir!" Phyllis shouted from the outer office. Big D could hear her trying to open the door.

"You have to help me!" the Russian shouted. "If they find me, they vill kill me!"

"Who's they?" Big D asked. "And who are you?"

"My name is Vladimir. I vas hired by organization to bring them sphere."

"What kind of sphere?"

"Here, I have it vith me."

Vladimir opened his coat, and took a crystal ball out of it. He put it on Big D's desk. Big D looked at it intently. It looked like that weird orb from his dream.

"Please, you must destroy this sphere," Vladimir said. "I can not tell you the reason now. The Russian Underground my be followink me!"

"The Russian Underground?" Big D repeated. "What in the world is that?"

"I can't tell you now," Vladimir said. "But I have defected from them. I vill talk more about it tomorrow. Meet me at that French cafe downtown at noon. From there, ve vill go someplace private. And believe me, I am not tryink to trick you."

"Very well, then," Big D said, suspiciously. He was going to arrange for a few of the agents to follow him out, just in case.

Vladimir then ran out the door (nearly hitting Phyllis with it), and raced out of the building as fast as he could. Big D looked at the sphere. It didn't look like much, that was for sure. Big D walked across his office, and moved a picture off the wall. Behind the picture was a safe. Big D unlocked it, and put the sphere inside for the time being. Only Big D knew about this safe. Nobody else in the entire agency did. Once the sphere was locked up, Big D put the picture back on the wall, he left his office, and went over to Phyllis's desk.

"Phyllis, have you ever heard of the Russian Underground?" he asked.

"No, sir, I haven't," Phyllis said.

"Dig up whatever information you can about them before noon tomorrow," Big D said.

"Yes, sir," Phyllis said, and she immediately went over to the filing cabinet. Big D went back into his office, and began to prepare for his meeting with this Vladimir person. Even though Vladimir had said he wasn't trying to trick him, Big D was still suspicious.