Some of them dodge me and some come at me like they’re going to cagefight me and I have to sidestep them to avoid getting hurt. But I get to one or two, and then another and another. I grab their masks and throw them away like Frisbees into the dark sky, and the masks turn into birds. I give the dreamers back their keys, and their greyscale clothing starts to show hints of colour. In shards of reflected neon, I glimpse the dreamers’ faces, and for some I see that their eyes are finally opening. Inside the dream, inside our group consciousness, they are becoming lucid.

The opening of the sleepers’ eyes makes me realise just how bloody dark it is here. Why are we all walking around in the dark? When is it ever going to be daytime?

And then I remember. I’m a dreamhacker. And I can change this place. It doesn’t have to be night here all the time.

Where is the damn sun, anyway?

I don’t know which way is east, but I pick a direction. Come on, Sun. Show yourself!

At first nothing happens, but I know now that I am the Agency and it is me. If I can take shit from the Agency then I can also dish it out. And I’m bringing the sun up, damnit.

Now, beyond the rickety scaffolds of BigSky’s platform, beyond the neon flyovers and the sideways skyscraper, the foreglow of a new day appears, a slow rumour at first. Then in a sudden rush of pent-up dawn the sun cracks like a runny egg over the Dream City and daylight makes its way everywhere. It scatters across waterways and scaffolds and buildings.

The long night is over.

Spontaneously, birds begin singing in the Dream City. Big birds, little birds, mechanical birds, ghost birds and the birds that used to be masks. Singing in the wild light that runs all over the place.

I’m not at all certain I want to wake up. It’s so magical here, and I have power, and in this moment all of the challenges that lie ahead feel remote because I am elated.

Plus I’m freaked to wake up. Reality has always scared me loads. I’m small and insignificant and scruffy in the real world. I have no influence at all – or I thought I didn’t. I reckon that’s going to need to change now. I will make it change.

‘Wake up,’ I tell myself. Waking up feels like swimming through sludge, but now that I’m in charge here, I have no choice but to obey myself.