With a thud of relays, lights returned to the now empty control room. Air turned on with a wish and then the monitors started flickering to life. Panel lights turned on, showing mostly red indicators. Finally, the big stage started glowing whitely, the translucent screen pulsing slowly as it prepared to accept a new data stream.
The figure at the power panel slowly turned and hobbled up the ramp. A dirty, bloodied smock covered a torn tunic which had other smears on it. Bandaged, with cracked glasses, the face of the prefect peered out with a steady stare, forcing his body to limp up the ramp toward his command station. Dry coughs racked his frame from time to time, as he wiped the speckle from his bruised lips and cheek.
As he passed the last row of monitors, he grabbed the first aid kit from the aisle, clutching it with both hands as he made the last curve past his former underling's stations to his.
He sank down in the tall leather arm-chair and rested with his head back for a minute, catching his breath and gathering his thoughts.
Then he bent over the small first aid kit and started rummaging through its contents, spilling bandages and creams to the floor. "At last!" he said to no one. He took the small vial of morphine and jabbed his forearm, squeezing the contents as he did so. The other vials he stuffed into an inner pocket and then threw the container to the floor, away from his feet.
Closing his eyes again, he laid back to allow the chemical to take affect.
"Now I have them where I want them. They can't do this to me again." His voice had grown in strength as the pain left him. "I just have to finish the job."
Leaning forward, he brought his own monitors online and ran through several tests. Looking for certain files, he pulled them up and smiled as he saw the results. "Yes, there, there, and there. They're all present. I still can't map the Anomaly, but these others will tell me where he is."
Reviewing the data stream, he frowned. "He must have told them something. That shouldn't be possible. One dream can't influence another - that anomaly is spreading like some disease..."
More tests, more results. The prefect started putting those subjects up on the main stage, where he was able to view the progress of each subject except the one, which remained blank. As he muttered to himself, recalling code and placing these in action for each of the subjects, he started smiling to himself as they each started moving back to their original rooms. Through their first-person view, he could see the Anomaly getting puzzled and following them, arguing with them.
But then something happened. In each case, the Anomaly was talking to them, smiling and calm. Then that screen went blank.
Finally, the stage was completely blank again. The prefect took both bandaged hands and curled them into fists, striking the keyboard over and over in frustration.
At last, he stopped. His head was down, almost on his chest. And suddenly, he jolted upright. "Of course! There is always a Final Solution. Just take it into my own hands. I'd almost forgotten that approach. Old style. Of course." He continued muttering as he stood from his console after typing a final set of instructions. His screen started pulsing in reply, as if counting down.
The prefect made his way down to the stage by the ramp, still limping, but not feeling the pain of dragging his foot along the carpet. Somewhere, he had started to bleed again and left a slight trail as he went to a narrow door on the side of that sound stage. As he entered the chamber and closed the door behind him, only shadows were visible from the console side.
At his monitor, the pulsing became more frequent as the countdown became closer and suddenly, the console became a solid red with white letters in it's center: "Executed".
The stage became a dark shade of gray and then suddenly turned yellow with multi-colored static filling the huge space.