Before you can even lift your foot to step towards the cafe, you're seated and a waiter is approaching to take your order. You're still trying to control your growing panic, and can barely speak when the waiter asks your order. The cafe looks onto the street and you look at the people seated on the terrace, trying to calm yourself. Suddenly the patrons spring up and start running, en masse, as a battalion of officers dressed in riot gear descend. You take off, leaping over tables and chairs in a blind terror as the walls begin to speed towards you and police swarm the cafe. A plate glass window that wasn't there a second ago looms in your path, but you're running too fast, you can't slow your momentum...