They crept into the city by night, but as soon as they arrived, the city ground to a halt. Cars sat at traffic lights. Figures blurred and stopped. But there on a square stood an Agent of Rabit. He was silent, almost motionless, but his mouth seemed to move and Tipsy got annoyed. "I'll get him," she shouted and before the Wabbit could approve it, she ran forward and sprang. Knives flew like birds of prey and one pierced the Agent through the chest. Another knife sliced and blood spattered, but there was no cry of pain. There was nothing at all. "Take that!" yelled Tipsy and she kicked the Agent hard. The Agent swayed and fell to the sidewalk with no sound at all. "It's fake," shouted Tipsy. "As fake as Trump's hair!" smiled the Wabbit. Puma's growl was more of a grumble. "What is this fake place for?" "We're going to find out," said the Wabbit. He hopped forward and inspected the prone figure. "This isn't a real Agent." He rolled it over with his foot. "It's just another faker." Terni the Dragon landed on a couple of pillars and called. "Everywhere is the same, Commander. Nothing is really real." "Maybe we're not real!" yelled Tipsy in exasperation. She kicked a wall ferociously, then shouted in pain. "We're real!" The Wabbit shook his head and grinned. "Let's rendezvous with the team." Terni's wings beat a silent tattoo on the rooftops as Puma and the Wabbit moved off. Tipsy groaned and limped after them ...
