"I see you have have changed - what is the word - your hair-dress?"

"Hair-style, Professor," Anna corrected mildly, as she stepped closer to the lecturer's table. She tugged on one of her two pigtails. Most of the class had already shuffled their way out of the hall, but some students had stopped to give her suspicious glares - probably envious that she already nabbed a paying 'internship'. Obviously, they were oblivious to the nature of her job, and she was going to keep it that way. "So, you wanted to see me, Prof?"

"Yes." The large man waved to one of the lecture benches, gesturing for her to sit, which she did. "I wanted to ask you about,-" he looked about almost conspiratorially"-the job."

She was slightly puzzled, since she had assumed that he would know more about what her job than her. "What about it?"

"It? I do not wish to know of 'it'." North misunderstood, shaking his head and his scraggly white beard emphasizing each toss. " No, I ask about you - whether you are, eh, coping well?"

Still bemused, Anna made a non-committal noise. "It's so-so. Nothing I can't handle."

"That is good. That is good," the Professor answered, pleased. He gathered the remaining notes scattered on his desk, each piece looking horribly tiny next to his huge hands. "You're not, eh, going on the job yourself, are you?"

She shook her head. "No. Jack said it's too dangerous for me to be directly involved, so I'm just supposed to teach the dreamers the landscapes." Anna couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed when she said that.

"Excellent." Unlike her, there was much relief in his voice. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke haltingly, "Should you ever, well, be troubled by anything -"

He left it hanging, but Anna understood. "Thank you, Prof. I will."

"Eto horosho." North beamed, giving her a genial clap on the shoulder, whilst his other arm scooped the books up. "And truly, anytime you need an ear, do not hesitate. That, you must learn from Jack."

Anna was quick to catch the name, her eyes narrowing immediately. "Jack?"

"Yes, he used to be more open about his problems, but then -" the elder man sighed.

"What happened?" Anna persisted, clutching the file in her arms more tightly as she did.

"Well, he got married - not that I did not approve of the match," North added hastily. "But it was, well, unexpected. They had known each other for such a short time."

"No kidding," Anna agreed as both of them walked towards the exit. Then her eyes went as wide as saucers. "You knew Elsa?"

"In a way, I introduced them. She was on an internship here, and her project involved working with me. Well, eh, I was busy. So I got Jack to do it instead and they became remarkably close. The only reason why Jack returned to America was because of her. That, and he'd finally gained the guardianship of his sister." The large Russian held the door open for her, and she thanked him. He noticed the trouble expression on her face, so he asked, "You did not know?"

"I had no idea," Anna answered frankly, and half-ashamedly. Elsa's college had been an out-of-state one, and though Anna had sent her countless emails, texts and even phone calls made in burst of courage, all replies had been short and brusque. It had taken her two years to even find out what course Elsa was studying.

"I though Jack was involved in some military dream program," was all she said out loud. There was no need to bother Prof. Klaussen with her boring sop stories. "Then it closed down."

"Yes, he did," confirmed North. "Following that, I got him a job to teach here - a temporary thing, mostly. If you ask some of the oldest students, they might even remember him."

An amused smile made its way to her lips. "So, how was he?"

"Jack, ah, he is a good architect, but his teaching-" North seemed slightly sheepish "-not quite. I think he preferred to send his students to sleep rather actually teach them anything."

"Strangely enough, that makes sense." Anna snickered. It was strange talking to a man three times her age like a friend, especially when she and North had so little in common before. Well, even they had mutual acquaintances now, it was obvious that their views on Jack were extremely different.

After chatting with the professor for half an hour at least, they parted ways as North headed to his next class, whilst Anna went back to her dorm. She didn't have any more classes for today, but she did have some kind of employment now and that meant she couldn't dally in her room for the rest of the afternoon like some of her classmates. Not that she enjoyed haunting her empty room. She had too much of that in her childhood.

Unlocking her door, she pushed it open, greeted by the sight of a whirring fan and a blaring television. Her roommate was a politics major, with timetable that drastically differed her own. She was barely around anytime Anna was in – not that Anna complained about that. The most conversation she had ever had with her roommate was when she had complained that Anna should 'keep her dollhouses on her side of the room'. Anna had then retorted that these were not 'dollhouses' but models. There were some architectural students who used computer programs to build their models, and others who found it sufficient to sketch theirs but Anna always used cardboard models. She preferred holding tangible objects in her hand - objects of measurement and mass; things that she could know for a fact to be real.

That's where Elsa differed from her. For a person so grounded in reality, Elsa was oddly fixated on the ideal. She took great interest in political ideology, psychology and psychiatry. Would she have interest in the 'dream world' though? Anna's answer, which would have once been a flat out 'no', was now quite uncertain.

She dumped her textbooks on the desk, where they would be forgotten till midnight. Just as she was about to leave, it struck her that she had yet to choose a totem. Maybe now would be an opportune time to get one.

Kristoff had described a totem as that something the dreamer knew well - something familiar and significant to her, but would often be overlooked by others. Immediately, one particular object came to her mind. By Kristoff's definition though, this would not be a good totem. It was a light-weight, made of a cheap, easily destructible material, but there was little else Anna could think of.

She had kept it in her trunk; the same that she had kept since she had moved from Burgess to Paris. It was a beaten old leather thing that had been shoved at the bottom of the closet. So she dragged it out now, laying out on the ground, then tore open the flaps. The object of her search was easily found, tucked on inside the lower pocket. Sometimes, She could barely hold it in her arms without bursting into tears, as ridiculous as it sounded.

Anna's childhood was for a most part a happy one. She and Elsa were as thick as thieves and it was fabulous. They were the best sisters there ever were - scheming, pranking, playing together. Elsa had been a very imaginative child, and she had always shared that creativity with her little sister. One day, they could be sailing the seas with pirates and corsairs, and on another, they would be robbing gold from giants. Occasionally, Anna would be allowed to throw in her own additions, be it a little fairy guide who would show them their way, or a child-eating goblin who lived in the cupboard below the sink. Most of the specifics had been faded by this point, but she never forgot the fun.

Which was a pity, because Elsa certainly did.

Out of nowhere, Elsa suddenly stopped telling stories. She became horribly reserved and distant. Anna thought that it was all part of growing up, and she waited patiently for 'serious Elsa' to leave and 'fun Elsa' to come back. But with each day that passed, Elsa became increasingly reclusive. At first, she would refuse to spend time with Anna, whether it was to play or to work. Then, she began having her meals in her room. The real tipping point was when she just disappeared into her room altogether. Father and Mother didn't seem to like these changes, but they didn't stop Elsa either. They would sometimes go to Elsa's room and to talk to her, but they never made her leave it unless necessary. It took ages and ages for them to coax her to halt home-schooling and go back to public school. Even then, Anna knew that Elsa never took part in extra-circulars, never joined clubs, never stayed longer in school, or in any human company actually, then she needed to.

Throughout her school years, Anna got dozens of questions from schoolmates about her sister's peculiar behavior, and it did hurt that she never knew the answers. Her parents wouldn't discuss it, saying it was something that only Elsa could face on her own. Her sister barely even spoke to her, which allowed the confusion to steep. At one point, Anna thought it might be school bullies or something, but as an afterthought, she had to dismiss that idea. If anything, the school was scared of Elsa, not the other way round.

Her relationship with Elsa had been going downhill for a long time, but it went on landslide once their parents died. There had been a terrible snowstorm in some town further up west from their own home. Their parents had been there to attend a friend's wedding, but while driving back to their hotel, they got caught in a horrid car accident. They never came back.

The funeral was like a nightmare – not the scary type, but the kind that paralyzed you from your brows to your toes, numbing you from making a move, even a tear. Both of them attended the funeral, but given how little Elsa spoke, Anna felt as if she was the only one there. In a matter of fact, the reception was mostly run by her, while Elsa herself disappeared into her room.

Life still went on as normal, and unfortunately the lack of Elsa continued. After years of bearing it in brave, Anna knew had to try to mend the tear no matter what– break the ice between them, in a way. It just happened that Elsa's birthday was just a few days before her graduation from senior year. Anna decided thus the best way to celebrate both of these was to throw a party. Their parents were fairly wealthy and their lonely house was a huge one, so with carelessly distributed party flyers and calls to catering that kept her up in the night, she was all set to give Elsa the most fun night of life.

The turnout for the party was massive actually, a surprising feat considering that Elsa had little to no friends. But promises of free food, loud music and indiscriminate amounts of alcohol brought students of all kinds to the Arendelle house. It did drive Anna crazy trying to make sure people didn't break all the family heirlooms and clog up the toilets with their vomit, but in being surrounded by so many people, she couldn't help feeling happy all the same. There was also random being to talk to, crazy dances to join… It was nice feeling like a normal teenager for a change.

On hindsight, she should have tried making a birthday party rather than a surprise birthday party. Of course, if she ever told Elsa that she was planning to hold a party for her, Elsa would disallow it at once. But not telling her and still holding one was, well, rather stupid too.

When Elsa had stepped into the manor three hours after party had started, having had returned from a late night study at the library – or wherever creatures like Elsa haunted in the evening, she was gobsmacked. No, horrified. Perhaps the effect only worsened when someone spotted her and yelled, "Hey, the birthday girl's here!"

In their slightly intoxicated attempts to be delightful, the crowd began chanting the birthday song and some people tried throwing some cake at her, though their aim was remarkably bad. If it had been any other high school student, all this might have been fine. Everyone would have laughed, let the birthday kid do a little crowd-surfing, drink a chug of beer and everything would have been good fun.

But this wasn't any high school student. This was Elsa.

"ENOUGH!"

Her voice wasn't the loudest in the school, but for some reason, everyone froze in their positions. The catchy beats booming out of the speakers were hastily paused. Even those who had somehow managed to sink themselves into a stupor had the commonsense to stop downing their drinks and pay attention.

Anna had rarely seen Elsa angry. In a matter of fact, she had rarely seen Elsa anything, actually. But her face as pale as a ghost's, brows drawn together fiercely and her mouth curved in a decided frown, it was unmistakable that Elsa was not just angry – she was furious.

Her eyes slowly scanned the crowd, contempt all over her expression. Her voice was low, but deadly - "The party's over. Get out."

The petrified students gained back control of their motor functions and immediately began scrambling out of the house. Pizzas were reluctantly returned to their boxes and beer glasses back to their tables. People rose from their seats, giving each other meaningful looks but not daring to say a word under Elsa's steely gaze.

Anna couldn't stand it for, of course. All her effort, all the time, all the fun, surely it could come to something – must come to something. So she moved towards her sister.

One of the strange things that Elsa had started doing ever since the 'drift' began was the odd habit of wearing gloves. Now, most people didn't think wearing gloves was a big deal. People wore gloves during winter for warmth, and gloves were handy in hands-on work like gardening or construction, but nobody went around everywhere wearing gloves. Nobody but Elsa, that is. Anna had asked about the gloves before, and all she had been told was that Elsa 'had a thing about dirt'. Fair enough, she had supposed, but did that really warrant glove-wearing twenty-four seven? She remember seeing those endless piles of glove going through into the laundry every week, never knowing why Elsa treasured them so much. All Anna ever knew was that Elsa stuck to her gloves as much as she stuck to her loneliness.

So when she accidentally yanked off Elsa's glove while attempting to yank on her hand, she knew that she made a mistake.

Her sister was shocked. "Give me back my glove!"

She tried, just the way she had tried for years. But unlike Elsa, she wasn't made of ice. "Elsa, please! I can't live like this anymore!"

Elsa stared at her with wide eyes, suddenly taken aback. She looked conflicted, almost as if she wanted to give in. But all she said in return was in a quiet, steely voice, "Then leave."

The yearning, the disappointment, everything that Anna had bottled inside her for so long came rushing out like a river in the monsoon. "What did I ever do to you?"

Elsa began, "Anna, enough-"

Her fist tightened around the cursed glove, the silk in her palms reminding her of the silent years she had endured outside her sister's door. "No, really, why? Huh? Why do you shut me out? Why do you shut the world o-"

"I said enough!"

The party-goers emptying out of the house looked upon the drama unfolding with great discomfort, before deciding to shuffle through the door more quickly. Elsa didn't even give them a glance, just glaring back at Anna. Anger warped her countenance, but there was also pain, as if the sharp words had struck a bitter chord in the heart of the Ice Queen.

There was an apology right on Anna's lips, but before she could say anything, Elsa had already swept away, clenching the bare fist to her chest. She hurried up the stairs and, without waiting for a second more, darted into her room. The sound of the door slamming shut echoed throughout the vacant house. Anna stood alone in the messy hall, gazing upon the balloons and banner miserably.

The next few months were particularly painful. Anna had been used to seeing her sister keep her distance, like walking several steps ahead of her, or making their conversations short, but this time, it was like Elsa just vanished. She was still in her room, because the food placed at her door daily was still eaten, but she barely came out, even if just to use the bathroom. She rarely went out for her study trips to library even.

Anna tried to apologize. She would stand at the door, talking cheerfully about her day no matter how sodden her heart felt. She made chocolate cookies and set them on Elsa's dining tray, hoping that the sweet delicacies would tempt her sister into forgiving her.

She even tried returning the glove as a truce. While examining it, Anna had realized that when she had pulled it off from Elsa's hand, she had actually ripped it right from the rim straight through the palm. So she got some needle and thread in attempt to mend it. Her sewing was pathetic unfortunately, but by keeping most of the repair job hidden on the inside of the glove, the mistake was actually unnoticeable unless one was to stare closely at the palm.

On the day she had tried returning the glove, she was surprised to find that Elsa's door was unlocked. Bemused, Anna pushed the door open, sticking her head into Elsa's room for the first time in ten years. Upon looking in it, she realized two very important things –the room was empty of everything but the bed and Elsa was gone.

This perturbed Anna greatly until she happened to pass one of the windows overlooking the gate of the house. There, she saw Elsa, here hair tied up in an elegant bun and dressed in a plain, formal attire, walking down the pathway down the frontyard. With one hand, she pulled her luggage and with the other, she opened the gate. It was then that Anna spotted a taxi waiting along the road.

"Elsa! Wait!" Anna bolted down the stairs, racing through the hall and straight out the door. She arrived, panting, just as the driver was helping Elsa load her luggage in the back of his vehicle. The blonde swung to her in surprise, and there was almost guilt in her expression.

Anna had so many questions, but she knew that letting them all out would only spook her sister away. So she only let out one at a time. "What are you doing?"

The answer was plaintive - "I'm leaving, since you won't."

Anna's eyes glazed over at the answer. "What? Why?"

"I need some space," Elsa replied stiffly. "I need to be away from you for a while."

Haven't they both been alone enough? Shouldn't they being trying to stop their family from falling apart? And why was being with her such a problem? But Anna didn't have time to ask. The driver had already taken his place behind the wheel, and Elsa was slipping through the door. "Where're you going?"

"College."

There were so many unfilled blanks still. Which college? When had she applied? When had they accepted? Why hadn't she spoken to her about this? But these all remained unanswered for a very long time, and Anna could only watch forlornly as the cab drove off, the silken glove clenched in her hand.

The same silken glove she had hidden in her luggage and brought to Paris. The same silken glove that she now stuffed into her pocket. The same silken glove that would forever be what hooks her down to the ugliness of reality.

She closed the luggage and placed it back into the closet.

Jack was uncomfortable.

For one, his employers usually didn't insist on following along on the job. Unlike extraction where proof of job completion lay in provision of codes or plans, there was no definitive way to trace an inception. Unsurprisingly, Bunnymund didn't trust him and had announced that he was would accompany them to witness the process.

"There are no tourists in our job," Kristoff had stated, displeased.

"Well, there's one for this one," the elder man had replied with a note of finality.

Jack told his co-worker stack some work on the Guardians agent. Since Bunnymund was going to hang around, he might as well make himself useful.

His second problem with the arrangement was that he didn't know very much about Bunnymund. This was an also unusual case for him, because he usually researched his employers before he accepted any jobs from them –potential blackmail, just in case they broke their word. But taking Bunnymund's deal was a spur of the moment thing and Jack wondered if he could trust the agent at all. He knew about the Guardians and their mission, but he never completely understood how they worked, only that they were keen on hunting down extractors like himself and Kristoff.

Except when it came to fulfilling their personal interests.

"That is a strictly on a need-to-know basis, Frost, and you don't need to know."

Jack sighed, rubbing his temple. Sometimes, he just wasn't used to people not understanding dreams the way the way he did. "On the contrary, Bunnymund, I do need to know. Do you even realize what you're doing when you conduct inception?"

"It's just an idea."

"Ideas are just seeds. It could end up consuming an entire person and changing everything about them." He shifted his chair closer to his employer, trying to emphasize the seriousness of it all. "If we're going to do this right, I need to know why you need an inception."

Bunnymund hesitated. He glanced at both of the younger men seated across him, before his eyes flitted over to the two others working in the backdrop. Flynn had decided to busy himself by setting up more tables in the warehouse, having claimed that he could only work in a cluttered room. The chemist from Nuremburg, Sandy, had joined him in his labor. Occasionally, the two in company exchanged conversation – though it was mostly Flynn rattling off endlessly in German while the shorter man nodded and replied in sign language.

"You're going have trust us all if we're going to accomplish anything," Kristoff added.

Bunnymund did appear troubled, but finally, he relented. Hunching himself forward, he asked, "Are you aware of the ethnic tension in Corona?"

Both Kristoff and Jack nodded, with the latter remarking, "They showed the riots on the news, haven't they?"

"Many times, though much of its political rather than purely ethnic." Bunnymund grimaced. "Corona's a young nation. Historically, it had been part of the Kingdom of Westergaard, but a majority of its citizens have German roots rather than Westergaardian ones, hence the similarities in their spoken language and their culture with that of Germany's. Only during the World War II when Germany annexed Corona was the state formally separated from Westergaard. Since Corona had been so welcoming of the German troops,-" Kristoff made a snort, which resulted in a disapproving look from his colleague "-the Nazis allowed Corona to retain most of ruling powers, even letting them to establishing new ones such as -"

"-their own parliament," Jack finished, still not sure where the Guardian agent was going with this. "After the War and the Germans left, Corona retained its ruling powers and its sovereignty."

"Don't forget the new monarchy," added Bunnymund. "During the German occupation, they installed a pro-Nazi nobleman with royal Westergaardian blood as King to garner support amongst the people. That guy was committed suicide after the War due to his Nazi ties, but his family continued act as figureheads of Coronian sovereignty, and has been doing ever since."

Kristoff was getting annoyed. "So, your point is?"

"For the last two years, Corona has been on teetering on the edge. There has been discussion of uniting back with Westergaard or joining Germany instead. Much of the people are split and very passionate about their sides, hence the riots. The only thing that's holding the nation together is its monarchy."

"I don't see how a princess who's been brought up in a distant country is going to be the patriotic glue," the blonde man noted sourly.

Bunnymund didn't reply to that, only looking at Jack. "If she abdicates, who gains the throne?"

"Her second cousin, the thirteenth prince of Westergaard." As the answer leaves his lips, another dawns on Jack.

"Exactly." Bunnymund pressed his lips together firmly. "The pro-German majority would take it as an attempt by the Westergaard to subvert Corona. All hell'd break loose."

The tensed lull that fell in the company as Bunnymund reclined in his seat. Kristoff seemed satisfied with the explanation, but Jack narrowed his eyes at his employer, suspicion written all over his face.

Finally, Bunnymund broke the silence. "Alright. Spill it, Frost."

"That isn't all, is it? There's another reason why the Guardians are interested in this."

The elder man seemed annoyed, even chagrinned. "You're sharper than you look, y'know that, mate?"

Jack impatiently rapped his knuckles against the wooden arm-rest of his chair. "What's the real reason?"

Seeing that he couldn't worm his way out of this one, Bunnymund began to explain, "There's been a proposal swimming about in the EU. There's never really been a consensus about it, because too many members kept abstaining from the vote. The decision is supposed to finalize at the end of this year, which is sometime before Corona finally decides whether it wants a merger with Germany or Westergaard. As it is, Corona's been one of the steadfast 35% blocking minority for this proposal. If it's subsumed into either country, its vote in the EU may no longer be considered a whole one. The proposal would be passed."

"What's the proposal about?"

Bunnymund started to seem slightly uncomfortable. "Legalizing the public manufacture and sale of a certain drug in the EU." Noting Kristoff's raised brow – "It's not very well-known drug, okay? If they legalize it, most of the world would follow suit. They even restricted the press because they're trying to contain knowledge about it."

"And what's the drug?" Jack already had a good guess of what it was

With much reluctance, Bunnymund answered, "Somnacin."

"You're just in time. We're about to start."

Anna let Kristoff lead her to the centre of the warehouse, and, my, had it changed. Suddenly, there seemed to be an endless supply of lights and tables everywhere, not to mention stacks of paper and markers dropped on every third table or so. Even the number of people around had increased twice fold at least.

"Who are these guys?" she hissed to her blonde companion.

Before he could answered, one of the new guys sauntered over to them, though only grinning at her. He could be said to be rather good-looking; chiseled jaw, sharp nose, daring eyes. "Well, hello, good-looking."

Anna blushed, giggling at the oddness of the greeting. Kristoff frowned, his brows almost knitting together. Looking pointedly away, he said in a monotone, "Flynn, Anna. Anna, Major Douchebag."

"Hey!" The handsome young man seemed offended.

"Don't let the fake American deceive you. He's a forger – an actor, in a way," Kristoff continued, ignoring the protests from the other man. He held onto Anna's elbow, moving her along the room. "Flynn's just here because Jack needs helps. Besides that, he's just wasting oxygen."

"Just because some people have better fashion sense than others does not warrant poor insults!" the brunette called Flynn hollered from behind them.

"I see you guys get along," Anna said, barely suppressing another smile.

Kristoff huffed at that. "Anyway,-" he gestured at a small man standing by a table, working with a box of yellow powder. He measured them before adding them to some water to form a light yellow concoction mean "-that's Sandy. He's a chemist. He's going to help us make the sedatives." Seeing her bewilderment, he explained, "Stable sleep's important for dreaming sharing, remember?"

She was slightly sheepish. "Oh, yeah." Anna then spotted an older man seated down, nursing a cup of tea and drinking it gingerly. "So, who's that?"

Kristoff's face darkened almost immediately. "The employer."

Before Anna could inquire further, Jack had called them all to the centre of the warehouse to do some, what he called, 'mind-mapping' (because, obviously, it was such an original term).

Plastic chair there had been arranged in a semi-circle, facing a whiteboard on wheels - the common type one might find in preschool. On each chair was a black file, which Anna discovered was information about the target, or as the extractor called it, the Mark. She flipped hers open and was greeted by newspaper clippings, blog articles, photographs and even some letters that were most definitely private. She wondered where they could possibly obtained such information, but decided that perhaps it was best that she didn't know.

Since Jack was still occupied in some whispered conversation with the grey-headed employer and most of the company hadn't seated themselves yet, she decided to start reading ahead first. Roughly, she knew that their Mark was the Coronian princess, or, as she was better known as, Princess 'Rapunzel'. Being from a small country, the princess didn't spend as much time on the media as English Royalty, but whenever she did appear on headlines, it usually wasn't positive. The drama that surrounded her childhood usually led to people speculating about whether she was good enough to succeed her father, King Eduard II. From the articles that Anna read, some thought she was too introverted, while others thought that she was 'too hippie'. The latter remark was often flanked by the most famous photo of the princess.

Back when Rapunzel was only eighteen and unaware of her royal heritage, the photo was taken when she exhausted but triumph after a solo protest march on barefoot from Canberra to Sydney. Carrying on the back of her head seventy-feet worth of dyed golden hair, and in her hand was large signboard with a picture of an animal withwords screaming, "DO NO HARM." Her campaign stirred up an internet frenzy of supporters, though it was said that the shampoo and cosmetic companies she protested against were still unmoved.

'Still, pretty cool,' thought Anna, as she went on to the next page.

A lot of the other articles focused on the princess's life, such as how she wasn't adapting well to royalty and even to her family. There were snippets of spiteful columns discussing about how the princess lacked the tact and grace necessary for an ambassador of Corona, while others suggested that she might be mentally-unsound all, given how she was raised by her crazy kidnapper. Some even claimed that she was an imposter, though Anna had read an article about the positive DNA testing earlier on.

Apart from the protest-march photo, most of other photos of the princess weren't the most flattering. With her modest brown pixie-cut and the girlish dresses she always donned, she was no longer the bold teenager, but a nervous, frightened young woman trapped in a world she didn't really understand. No wonder she wanted to give up the throne.

"Hi, hi, hi, can everyone please sit down? Rider, put down that cookie. Kristoff, can you wake Sandy? I think he fell asleep while working. Oh, and Anna?"

"What?" Being snappish towards Jack was a habit she had yet to break, and she wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to.

"You're on my seat."

"It doesn't have your name on it," she answered crossly.

"Um, it actually does." He made a twirly gesture towards her.

She straightened herself up, twisting herself around to take a look. Sure enough, 'JACK' was scrawled out rather childishly on the back of the plastic chair. Turning back to him, she was unamused by his smirk.

After everyone else had settled down and Anna had found another seat near Kristoff instead, Jack begun by scrawling on the whiteboard a single sentence, "I will become the Queen of Corona."

"So this is idea we're going to plant in Maria Fredrica's-"

He was met with blank stares.

"-Rapunzel's mind," Jack amended. "As you can probably tell, if you read your files-" he cast a dark look towards Flynn.

"Hey, I did!" protested the brunette, aghast. "Why does everyone always think that-"

"-you'd know that this is an idea she would definitely reject," Jack continued as the other man hadn't spoken. "That's why we need to plant it in her subconscious, and since the subconscious is mostly powered by emotion, so basically-" he actually cringed"-we have the idea into an emotional concept."

He let it sink in.

Anna could hear Kristoff sighing. "This is going to be so, so hard…"

Inception Lingo Dictionary:

Somnacin – Mentioned in Chapter 2. Basically the drug that is injected into dreamsharers by the PASIV (Dream Machine)

S/N:

Corona and Westergaard are both fictional countries, so please don't kill me. I also placed huge disclaimers on the historical and political bits about Corona – obviously, for a country that doesn't exist, all these cannot be true. The only thing has a hint of truth is the European Union (EU) voting stuff – even then, take it with a truckload of sodium chloride. This is Fiction.

Up next (whenever that is): Planning. Again. Hehe. And if there's time, maybe we'll do some dreaming.

A/N:

It has been ages since I've updated this. I'm so, so sorry. I'm having difficulty developing the heist motives, set up and don't get me started on the dream layers. The movie version is a lot simpler, but that's cause it's a movie.

If you leave a review, I'd love it.