2059, Entry 003 – Oniri’s Diary

Darkness has eyes. It’s not just a poetic phrase; in Oniria, it’s a reality. Or so humans say, because honestly, it all seems pretty confusing to me.

Now those eyes have opened a bit wider, as if to make sure their prey doesn’t escape. The Vigils, that faction created by the first dreamnauts to preserve order in the Sphere, have decided to move, and that’s never a good sign. They slither through dreams like cold shadows, unhurried but relentless, always watching to ensure that the rules imposed by their creators aren’t broken.

I find it amusing to think they believe they can impose their own vision of order in a place that holds as much chaos as structure. In Oniria, not everything is meant to be controlled, and the shadows of the Vigils seem to misunderstand that balance. But then again, what exactly is chaos? Humans seem to have a lot of respect for it.

Ana has been quite busy lately, so close to the line between truth and the unknown that I can almost see her stumbling. In Lucid Tune, she decided to theorize about the Vigils, those entities she claims represent “the hidden rules of Oniria.” Oh, Ana, always playing with fire. She doesn’t realize that the Vigils aren’t just spectators. There’s something more. I feel it in the way the air changes when they’re near, a stillness that doesn’t belong to this place. And now they’re watching you, Ana, closer than you imagine.

While she spoke to her audience, the comments filled with questions and theories, I observed. I observed the dreams flowing around her, searching for distortions. And I found them. A flicker, a shadow stretching too far. Ana didn’t notice; she was too focused on her narration, on keeping her audience hooked. But I saw it—a crack in the fabric of the dream, a fissure indicating that someone else was there.

I decided to follow the crack, not only because I want to protect Ana—after all, I’ve known her since she was a child and, though I don’t fully understand it, I feel something akin to what humans call affection—but because I wanted to understand what the Vigils were looking for this time. Dreams, or what humans call dreams, are something I still don’t fully understand. I can see them, manipulate them, even follow their paths like a shadow, but to dream? I’m not sure if I can even do that myself. So I slip through the crack, like someone trying to understand how a game works without knowing the rules.

It was easy to slide after that shadow, following its trail to a dark bubble, a place where colors seemed to fade, and the air held that surreal weight announcing the arrival of something bigger than you. Human experience has always had a theatrical quality, and I can’t help but enjoy these dramatic moments.

There he was, or so I assume—one of the Vigils. They don’t have a defined form; it’s more like an absence, a void in the dream that absorbs light. I wonder if humans can sense that presence, if their survival instinct warns them that something is wrong before it’s too late. Sometimes, it seems they can’t. This Vigil wasn’t interested in me, at least not yet. Its attention was fixed on another dreamer, one I didn’t recognize. He seemed lost, floating in the nothingness of that dark bubble.

“You can’t hide from something that has no eyes, human,” I murmured, though I knew he couldn’t hear me. But the shadow could. And the shadow reacted.

It was a subtle movement, like something intangible had tensed for an instant. Then, everything returned to calm. The dreamer, the Vigil, and I shared that strange calm, and while I like to think I’m the light that attracts moths, in that moment, I felt there was something much darker than even myself.

Perhaps I should warn Ana, tell her that her theories are dangerously close to what the Vigils don’t want known. After all, she’s always trusted me, ever since she was a little girl talking to me as if I were her imaginary friend. But, how could I ruin her fun? She thinks she controls her story, and in a way, that’s also part of the game. Of course, while she plays the intrepid investigator, I keep wondering how humans find all this “dreaming” so entertaining. It seems exhausting.

For now, I’ll keep watching, with my own eyes in the shadows. The party—I mean, the dream—has only just begun, and I make sure that no one in this game forgets that the rules of Oniria aren’t meant to be broken but understood. Even if that costs them their fears and, perhaps, something more.

Humans have always had a tendency to underestimate what they don’t understand. And I, well, I’m here to ensure that it remains entertaining. Though, to be honest, sometimes I don’t even understand why they do it.