It was nuclear war. The missiles were flying. We were in a bunker of some sort, with many others. Already two bombs had hit–I saw the second mushroom cloud rise, over Vermont in the distance. A third was headed directly for us. Even with the shelter, we were doomed. Everyone was screaming. Here it comes–it’s about to hit–
And it did. But there was no mushroom cloud. No explosion at all. We crowded around to inspect it.
The missile that had hit us was not a missile, but a rocket from space filled with alien technology. Far from being the end of humanity, we were on the brink of a space opera era.
My dream got me with a plot twist. And not like a dream logic twist. Something you could actually put in a story. My own subconscious plot twisted me.