With a feeling like pushing up through topsoil, Ursula sits up straight in the bed and inhales sharply, feeling her breath catch in her throat. A few moments of panicked hyperventilation served to bring oxygen into her system and wake her up fully. Her hands went to her face, wiping off the beading droplets of cold sweat from her cheeks and her forehead. She rubbed her eyes of sleep and blinked hard, immediately realising that she had slept with her glasses on again. They were all clouded up by perspiration and heat. A dumb thing to do, but she must have been tired last night. She was surprised that she could get into REM sleep at all, if her mind was so exhausted. She shook herself, hard. This was not the time to ponder on sleeping happenings.

Ursula's eyesight may not be the best there is, her bespectacled visage speaking volumes to that fact, but she knew without a doubt that she was not in her dorm room any more. Sterile, clean surroundings, steel furniture and a cold, uncaring atmosphere. And scratchy hospital sheets. Yep. Definitely a hospital. This place looked an awful lot like the general hospital where she went that one time Bobby Dewitt tried to ollie over her and ended up landing on and breaking a bone in her wrist. Ursula sucked in a swift breath as she remembered the crack that it made, her stomach roiling for an instant. She wished she had her board right now. Or her uke. Either would be great. Both would be even better.

Her little look around the room was shortly interrupted by the television roaring to life and blaring its message at an unusually high volume, after which it turned off and remained silent. Who was that scientist-looking dude? What did he mean 'remain calm'? Had she been kidnapped? Was she going to have to participate in some kind of sick survival games? Oh dear, Urs what have you gotten yourself into? The barrage of self-directed questions stopped when she realised she had phased out a bit, and needed to redirect her attention to the message. Uniform. Green line. Level B. No, Level C. Don't screw up Urs, this could be life or death.

The television cut out, going to black and leaving her alone in the room. She rose from the bed and stripped down to her undergarments, silently thankful that she had fallen asleep so carelessly and still had them on. She hopped over into the bathroom and picked up a uniform, squeezing into it quickly to escape the chill of the circulated hospital air. The fit was tight, but snug. Black and red, with a big number one right there on the arm. She walked back out into the bedroom and jumped when the door opened, breathing still ragged and quickened. Follow the green line, Level C. Don't delay or get distracted. Easy. 

Questions still ran through her mind as she jogged on the green line, passing robots by without a second thought, following the line up the stairs and around corners until she reached a cafeteria. Only a few people were here just yet, and she was not prepared to get all buddy-buddy. She took a seat nearby but not right next to everyone else, scratching at the itches left behind by the sheets and mentally running through more questions. How did they get her out of her dorm room without someone noticing? Where exactly were they? Where was her phone? How did they know her size?