There was everything from running around shooting bad guys like a champion to walking through this fantastical downtown that was like if Tim Burton was hired to do the plagued streets of NYC in The Division.
Later, I joined Starfleet. Well, a starfleet. There were spaceships.
And then still later we were holed up in this clapped out chipboard sno-cone stand in the middle of post-apocalyptic suburbia, everybody trying to squeeze behind the freezer or the sno-cone machine while some dude on a hilltop across the road took potshots at anything he saw move through the open door.
It sure seemed like longer than seven hours. Dreams are weird.