When? (Win?)

An exploration of the fourth Postulate, completely ruining my vibe!

Dream by Caesura, Artwork by Grant Griffin

A distortion in the darkness, and then a man, carrying with him a source of light. We see Caesura, scion of serpents and snakes, keeper of twelve secrets, king of the midnight hour--
Caesura: "Okay, that's laying it on a little thick."
You wrote it.
Caesura: "Well now I'm editing! Tell them where we are."
Caesura shouts his demands into the Garden of Silence at the base of the City of Pleated Light, where a great door is carved into the trunk of the city's mighty, building-bearing tree. Despite legend, there is no woman in a red cloak to greet him, or a great wolf in her stead. There is only the door, designed in the style of the ancient Tien cultures, with nine keyholes spaced evenly around a single, metal handle.
Caesura: "Hey! Let me in!"
No one hears Caesura.
Caesura: "One ticket to the Void?"
None respond to the pleas of the mad Alignmatist. Caesura sighs.
Caesura: "Have you ever felt like you're trapped between one objective and the next? Like success is just one riddle away, but some greater power would rather pepper the pieces all over the universe, rather than handing you the answer?"
I can't say that I have. I am, after all, a dreamscape.
Caesura: "Incredibly relatable. Good pep talk."
Would you like me to imagine you a therapist?
Caesura: "Oh, no. Gods no. I can do that myself... And this isn't helping!"
And how does that make you feel?
Caesura: "Shut up! Gonjo! Karma! Let me in!"
Caesura pounded on the door, but his knocks made no sound. For clarification, neither did his words -- but that would make for a poor vision, so we fill in the gaps. The Alignmatist eventually gave up on pounding, moving over to spells and incantations, and later depression. We shall skip the navel gazing, as it serves no purpose here. Eventually Caesura stands, and barks at the emptiness that reigns in the lowest level of the City.
Caesura: "Where did they go?"
You can't use that one.
Caesura: "Why?"
That one either. The title has to match the bolding, that's the shtick.
Caesura: "Stupid rule."
It's your rule.
Caesura: "Oh... Really?"
Yes.
Caesura: "Wow. Okay, did I have a good reason?"
All questions have an answer, even if that answer quickly becomes infinitely complex. However, to answer certain questions is often more trouble than it's worth.
Caesura: "Harsh. Fine! When was Karma last here?"
The Postulate echoes in the Garden of Silence, but all other words fall short. Still, the meaning is transferred, the question thrust out into the universe, and the universe responds. Somewhere far away, the Monad grumbles as we travel through time, rolling back days and weeks, until a woman in a red cloak bursts into existence, and Caesura snaps his fingers (also silent). Unnaturally black hair falls around a round, ivory face, lips painted as red as her robes. In contrast, her eyes are a frightening, canine yellow, and her aura radiates of bloodlust.
Caesura: "Hey! Fancy some tea?"
Caesura produces a tea bag from his lint-filled pocket, and gestures towards the door. Karma raises an eyebrow.
The vision fades...