Target Practice

In the far north, there is an opportunity to join an elite military squad to shoot some sweet ass aliens. On a cold winter night, I'm ready to pack up and leave. I've packed everything I need and I'm off, traveling in an elevator with a random resident in free fall to the first floor. Once I get out, the urban environment is very similar to that of Downtown Toronto, somewhere around the hospital district.

I run as fast as possibly can to the airport office, but surprisingly they're closed today. Confused and scared, I start looking around, dreading the idea of not being able to leave. Finally, a shadow figure approaches me, and soon turns into a kind-faced young woman. She comes to me with a kind smile, and a very stylish airline attendant outfit and a key in her hand. She unlocks the door, I walk in and I'm flying in a giant plane where I'm being outfitted for a military uniform and receive quick training on weapons use and all that random stuff.

Camp is in a snowy canyon somewhere in northern Canada, everything seems in immense panic. I start running towards some woods, where I see a bunch of aliens that resemble grunts from halo. I shoot all of them until I'm out of ammo at which point I'm suddenly back in my tent, having dinner. There's other teenagers all around, sharing stories of today's fun and games. Apparently, tomorrow is jet day. We get to fly jets!-

Phone call woke me up.