I went to a game competition and entered a small cabin where I was expected to shoot basketballs. The cabin had six rooms despite its size, and when I reached the last one, a man in a white coat asked for my help in completing a task. I agreed but asked him to first send me a message with the details.

Then I unexpectedly found myself lying on an operating table undergoing surgery, performed by the man in the white coat. I witnessed two nurses bringing in a man on a gurney and saying that they needed to perform an autopsy on his “body,” which was still moving as if he were drunk. When the nurses made the first cut on the man's body, the man in the white coat asked them if they should be using anesthesia. Feeling in danger, I urgently asked the surgeons to stop my surgery and sew me up. They did this on my left hip using dark thread.

I left the building quickly, holding my wound. Outside I saw many people who had also left, only to get hit by cars. Fearing for my life, I walked down the road slowly. I met the surgeon, the man in the white coat, and he asked how I was doing. I asked him what surgery he had performed on me, and he replied that it was a kidney removal, but that he hadn’t actually taken the organ out. Relieved, I was about to respond when my kidney fell out of me onto the ground.