I was looking at a black and white drawing of an ancient battlefield after a battle. Although it seemed to be a drawing, I was able in some manner to circulate over the field and see the injured soldiers move. No one was standing and the ground was strewn with dead and dying bodies of muscular men. The sight was awesome: torsos with no heads, limbs with no torsos, bodies with severe gashes, and amongst the carnage was much movement as the severely injured, aware that no medical assistance would be coming, tried to pull their injured bodies about.

The only emotion I seemed to feel was a sense of wonder at the artistic accuracy of the scene.

I wondered if I had also been in the battle and had somehow been uninjured. I found a long stiff metal rod, perhaps five meters long, and picked it up. I saw another soldier garbed in ancient battle gear walking amongst the injured and with a rod identical to the one I had, stabbing to death those injured who appeared capable of recovery. He saw me too. Obviously he and I were going to have to fight to the death and a battle between us ensued.

We raged against each other from one end of the field to the other slinging and counterslinging our rods at each other. My rod was quite heavy and I wasn't as accustomed as my opponent with handling it, but I learned quickly and I soon proved his match. Sometimes one of us would hold his rod straight up in the air and the other would attack holding the rod straight out from him. Neither could seem to gain the advantage as we pounded and pounded each other.

Finally I slew him and hid his body amongst the dead. The other injured soldiers seemed to have improved somewhat and color had returned to the area. I realized now that we were all in a gigantic room and were prisoners. Two new prisoners had been brought in who were uninjured. I wanted to give one of them the rod of the soldier I had just killed. I asked which one was the stronger, found out and gave my rod to the stronger one. He then told me in private that he didn't know the other man and that he was possibly a spy.

I followed the other man around, later saw him talking to some other recovered soldiers and I heard him tell them he was going to join me in a plan I had to break out and he wouldn't be able to work with them on a similar plan. I decided he could be trusted.

My plan to break out was fairly simple. I was going to wait until some guards came in and then I and the other soldier with the metal rod would attack them. We would kill all guards but one, whom we would use to tell the other guards to let us out. When the doors were open we would then ambush the other guards. I hadn't yet decided whether I would then kill the guard who had called the other guards to open the door.

The room gradually took on the aspect of a large gym. Two black men had shown up who were giving instruction in martial arts. I looked at one, who was rather fat, and I thought how he would have certainly pulverized me if I had unwittingly attacked him. It struck me that any sort of person could learn martial arts; but I figured that if an actual fight broke out between two people of equal mastery of the art, the person in the right would still have an advantage.

I talked with one of the black instructors and we noticed a large map lying on the floor. It seemed to be of Southeast Asia but the countries were divided up in strange ways and had peculiar names. One small country was named "Morn." The black man seemed to have heard of it before but it was unfamiliar to me.