Recruited into a confliction (virtual war). I debark from an old time train traveling a straight railroad and I’m pulled into the shelving of a large warehouse, the bottom level shielded from the light. For survival skills I’m taught by my team how to drink from a hollow tooth hung from the rack above; I defensively report that I already know that. The tooth is totally silent, only water drips, and is low tech. It’s much like the slice of deer antler we used to keep the big rat cage closed with at home in SF. Machines are hunting our group and are about to pass by on patrol. It seems like they will pass by, but instead we are eliminated all die in a reverse ambush (they suddenly attack while we are hiding). I feel disappointed as a newbie but am comforted by my host, who confirms that is was another member of our team who screwed up.
Due to being dead there now, we’re taken out of that environment. Now I’m on the outside of a long straight wall, all white with a single panel of black. This panel represents my host’s favorite, the kitchen. The rest of the dream is forgotten, if it ever occurred.