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It was too narrow to be called a room, but too short to be called a hallway.  There appeared to be no ceiling; all that Will could see was fluorescent light, reflecting off of the white walls and floor.  The room was completely empty.
Will shivered, still breathing hard, and got to his feet.  The room was freezing, but he barely noticed, his mind racing.
What was that thing? 
It had to be a dream.  It wasn’t possible to have an angel…  Then it hit him.
I’m in the sims. 
The simulations were what kept the Citizens preoccupied as well as satisfied, in his world.
Why am I here?  I’m not allowed to be in the sims.
He pinched his arm——hard——but nothing happened.  His curse echoed off the walls,  coming back to him louder than before. He glanced over his shoulder at the door, pale wood, stenciled with green to resemble ivy.
Did the angel hear me?
Will’s hand crept toward the gun in his waistband, the other resting on the doorknob.  He couldn’t stay in there for too long——the temperature was dropping, as if the room itself sensed a disturbance and was determined to get rid of it.
Will turned the frigid iron handle, clutching his gun’s grip with sweaty fingers.
Then a tremor shook the ground beneath his feet.  It wasn’t as strong as the one back at Headquarters, but Will froze.
Not again.
But nothing happened.  All he could hear was his rapid heartbeat and loud breathing.  He opened the door a crack, startled when voices reached his ears.
“——you, and where am I?”
Will didn’t risk closing the door for fear of them seeing him.  His fingers curled around his weapon.
Then a low, gravelly voice said from outside, “I know you’re there.  Come on out.”
Will frowned.  The second voice couldn’t be talking to the angel, could he?
Will flung open the door and pressed against the wall, keeping the gun close to his chest.  Nothing happened, except for a few gasps outside, which bounced off the walls and back into the circular room.
Switching the gun to his right hand, he pushed off the wall and stepped forward so that his left side was protected by the door frame.
The angel caught his attention first.  She was tall, beautiful, and light in stance, but the reflexive movement as she turned her bow towards Will told him that she was dangerous.  And her wings, large, speckled with black, and flared with surprise were a turn-off, too.
He aimed the gun at her, quickly scanning the others for weapons.  The only other threat seemed to be an older man in a heavy trench coat, pointing a huge gun almost lazily at him.
Behind him, another man wore a rapier at his side, but Will didn’t know if he would be much of a threat.
It’s probably just for show. 
The other’s were a mix of women and younger men, but Will fixed his eyes back on the threats.
“Who are you?”