Chronicle of an Oneiric Awakening

By Omar-VgWs

Author’s Note: This narrative originally dates from 12 January 2024. Today, 29 June 2026, I revisit it with the firm intention of publishing it and preventing it from falling into oblivion. It is an act of coherence with my vision of preserving what is significant, ensuring that these oneiric experiences find their place in shared reality.

I. The Mechanics of the Unexpected

The beginning of a new phase is perceptible. The cards on the table are being dealt. Following a recounting of compelling events, a desire for peace and for narratives that soothe the spirit arises.

To free the mind, the image accompanying the start of this other stage presents a male character named Catalina. Yes, you have read correctly. I was surprised when I asked him: “Did you perhaps mean Catalino?”, to which he replied without hesitation and with firmness: “No. My name is Catalina.”

Catalina is a mechanic. He works slowly, but with precision. His home is located in a region of the Earth where houses, built in Gothic style with grey stone blocks, are relatively clustered among hills, connected by rough dirt roads.

Catalina received the commission to repair a 4x4 vehicle that had to be ready for a journey within a maximum of six hours, before nightfall. About two hours before night fell, I saw him walking at his leisurely pace to fetch some missing parts. At that moment, I seriously doubted he would finish by the requested time.

Later I discovered that the person who had taken the vehicle to Catalina was Richie. He had noticed that, in addition to the necessary repairs, some tyres were low on air or punctured. His gesture of trusting in Catalina’s meticulous slowness was the first link in a sacred chain that was only just beginning to come into view.

II. Echoes in the Auditorium and Hidden Hieroglyphs

While Catalina carried out the mechanical work, I walked towards a place resembling an auditorium, where a crowd had organised itself to listen to and observe several artists presenting musical pieces. What caught my attention most was the hip-hop rhythm performed by a young Swiss woman. She was a blonde woman with long hair, a robust build, wide hips, slender feet, and tight denim trousers. She had a peculiarity in her nose: it was completely divided by a flat cavity, much deeper than its protruding ends, reminiscent of the physiognomy of the actor Gérard Depardieu. Truth be told, the song she performed struck me as rather boring.

Curiously, I was very close to the stage, also observing the audience through a telescopic sight. To my surprise, the thousands of people present were arranged in symmetrically strange positions: thirty looking at the ground, another twenty towards the opposite side, some crouching and looking upwards, and so on. Given such oddity, I decided to withdraw to check the progress of the repair.

When Catalina returned with the necessary parts, he showed me the inner cover that protects the bonnet and the engine, which he had placed on the ground to trace cutting lines. He indicated how he would proceed. The scene struck me as disconcerting; I did not understand his rustic method as nightfall approached.

Finally, Catalina finished the work minutes before it grew dark. Despite having made cuts in the intermediate cover and doing everything else necessary to get the 4x4 running, the vehicle was left in good condition, recovering all its factory capacity.

With basic preparations, I departed from that strange city to begin a planned journey of approximately one thousand four hundred kilometres, heading towards a central city in the Magic Country. Reaching Quriato took me two nights and three days. It was interesting to note that, among so many checkpoints formed by supposed government elements, none had the opportunity to stop me for their routine inspections.

Unaware of how interesting I had been to Catalina during my stay in the Gothic city, I overlooked a comment he made during the repairs, in which he mentioned his desire to go out and see the Earth. Given the limited space I had for travelling, I paid little attention to his words. I paid, said my goodbyes, and set off towards my destination.

III. The Convergence in Oto-Bek

During a pleasant journey of approximately five continuous hours, I enjoyed preparing instant drinks to taste by simply pressing a button, listening to the best music thanks to the powerful reception of the antennas, and even having Internet access in the most remote places, regardless of any storms. Well into midnight, I decided to make the first stop to rest and continue planning my route.

The resting place was a simple hotel, almost on the roadside. After checking in, while heading to my room, I passed by a pleasant dining room when, suddenly, I heard someone calling me by my name. Turning around, I saw that it was Catalina. I was startled to see him. However, Catalina displayed a serene happiness on his face and emanated a peaceful light that inspired immediate trust.

I asked him to sit down for a drink, to which he agreed immediately; it seemed to be precisely what he desired. Although tired, I was curious about the reason for that encounter.

The lighting in the dining room was dim and warm; I could barely distinguish whether the walls were dark turquoise or blue. The furniture was wooden: three small tables in the centre and two large purple sofas forming a ninety-degree angle in a corner, with a low table between them, wide enough to hold two portfolios or documents. Catalina ordered a coffee from the waitress, and I ordered a glass of sparkling water.

“Tell me, Catalina, why and how have you arrived here?” I asked with curiosity.

“I found this information while repairing your car and thought it was rubbish. Only, when throwing it away, I managed to notice some shimmering lines that immediately caught my attention,” he replied with relief.

He carefully placed on the table the cut-outs he had made in the intermediate cover between the engine and the bonnet. They displayed brilliant information: a kind of map and strange letters which, when joining the cut-outs, simply formed the description of our current location, the time, the distance to there, and even an additional message difficult to decipher.

Outside, a strong wind blew; the windows vibrated with the force of the knots, distracting us both. The dim lighting began to flicker, so I took the opportunity to ask Catalina to continue the conversation after a short rest and to thank him for having followed me to Oto-Bek, to which he agreed.

We were getting up from the table when, suddenly, the waitress approached with a pale and worried face, almost abruptly.

“Gentlemen, I have to tell you something. A group of six people was here to leave a notice. They were very strange; their gaze seemed dark, without brightness. They have forced me to transmit this to you: we are part of an experiment. Your vehicles have been electrically manipulated and, through specific energy, they sent micro-information through your drinks to keep you under observation. Not just you, but everyone who has drunk in this place,” she informed, afflicted and on the verge of despair.

“Miss, please calm down,” I said, approaching respectfully. “But why have they chosen you to transmit the message to us?”

As I asked her this, I understood her affliction and associated the exterior gusts with the visit of those beings.

“I was refilling some drinks on the shelf when I was surprised and forcibly grabbed by three of the six individuals. I have the impression that there was a woman among the group,” she reaffirmed.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“Arinda Wandi,” she replied.

The characters had loitered around the place for a few minutes until they discovered that Arinda was nearby, listening to the melody “My Life, My Soul, My House!” by Tom Wax through speakers at a relatively high volume. This helped her not to be so startled when they took her by force to transmit the information. She only suffered some slight scratches, nothing physically serious.

Catalina, with his rustic posture, observed us in detail while storing the “hieroglyphs”. He approached me quietly and, with one of the cut-outs in his hand, whispered as close as he could:

“This is what they are looking for. I remembered it thanks to the masters.”

He showed me with his index finger two of the signs in the message.

“Now let us rest. If I am understanding the other signs correctly, it is most likely that a difficult challenge awaits us from tomorrow onwards,” he concluded.

I went to my room and lay down a little over an hour after arriving in Oto-Bek. It was complex to fall asleep and assimilate the recent event, added to the unexpected encounter with Catalina, the cut-outs, Arinda’s disturbed face, and the sudden gusts of air that made the windows vibrate.

A strange sound woke me. I had closed my eyes for barely two hours, according to my watch, and it was not yet dawn. I went to the door. Through the peephole, I observed that Catalina and Arinda were there, in the corridor. I opened it.

“What is happening?” I asked, slightly agitated. “I have slept very little.”

Catalina simply replied:

“We did not wake you. We simply knew that it is time to continue with the challenge and have waited here for a while. Now that you open the door, we must leave here soon.”

“How is it that you did not wake me? The sounds seemed to come from here, as if someone had knocked on the door.”

“It is the micro-information, which has been activated in your organism. We must go! Later we will see what to do about that. The individuals wish to recover something they believe belongs to them. I was able to decipher it in part of the hieroglyphs… But I will explain it to you later. Let us go now!” Catalina said imperatively.

I began to gather the few things I had brought for the night and joined Catalina and Arinda as quickly as I could.

When we went to look for our vehicles, I checked the system on my handheld device, which informed me completely about the functioning of mine, showing levels and any faults. To my surprise, more than fifty per cent of my vehicle’s functioning was defective; repairing it would have cost me more than twenty-four hours.

For Arinda, the perspective was completely different: no transport was circulating in the vicinity, and the place was more desolate than ever. She was practically trapped, seemed frightened, and, as a mediator of what had happened, had a difficult time.

“Where have the others gone? The receptionist, the parking guard?” I asked.

“During the events of midnight, I observed that Klaus, the receptionist, disintegrated into the air without a trace. I was very frightened, and probably the same has happened to Bill, the parking guard,” Arinda replied, distressed.

Somewhat dismayed by the faults in my vehicle, we advanced a few dozen metres until we reached Catalina’s car, which was quite large and aerodynamic. As we approached, I observed that the test signals Catalina was looking at on his device were all green; everything was working perfectly. Undoubtedly, it appeared to be a comfortable vehicle, created with materials of a strange alloy. It was neither steel nor common metal; rather, it resembled some material similar to silver.

There was enough space inside to travel comfortably. Unable to assimilate the start-up, before I knew it, we were already moving. The movement, the interior, and everything else were silent; I could hear our breathing. The most striking thing was to observe that we were carrying out the journey over rocky routes, even difficult ones to traverse for a 4x4 or any other vehicle. It seemed that we were levitating at a height no greater than one metre above each imperfection of the terrain. I had the impression that we were advancing at about ninety-five kilometres per hour.

Catalina observed our amazement through a rather wide rear-view mirror with which his vehicle was equipped. At the same time, I noticed that, despite sitting comfortably, gravity felt quite tranquil. There were loose glass objects on horizontal platforms: some glasses, bottles with liquids, and even a vase with several purple, blue, and reddish flowers.

“Feel free to walk around the cubicle, esteemed friend,” he commented.

“I would like to be your co-pilot. I quite like the sensation proceeding from your vehicle, and I see that you have a comfortable space here beside you,” I mentioned.

“Please, take a seat,” Catalina said.

Arinda fell deeply asleep in one of the seats in the cubicle. The control cabin was right in front of us. There were a couple of doors at the back.

While Catalina drove relaxedly, I observed with curiosity that the illuminated map on one of the dashboard screens, right in front of where he manoeuvred the “barque’s” journey, marked in purple a region near the area where we were located.

“We are near the ‘Cut Tree Canyon’ valley. I am impressed by the speed with which we are advancing towards there,” I mentioned with amazement.

“Yes. We must prepare to ascend eleven metres more above the height at which we are currently travelling, so that we only graze the radiation of the valley. This will serve us to maintain stability and other reserves for approximately another six hundred kilometres,” Catalina said.

“That is what I am observing: we have advanced at an uncertain speed.”

IV. Resonance and Fusion

I was still bewildered by what had happened during the night; I had thoughts about what would happen with my vehicle, and many questions revolved in my mind. Suddenly, Arinda approached, stretching her body and yawning after having slept for several quarter-hours…

Arinda stretched with a slowness that seemed to defy time itself inside the cubicle. Her eyes, still veiled by the residue of sleep, sought mine before resting on the nape of Catalina’s neck. A deep calm filled the space.

“The air in here tastes of memory,” she murmured, placing a hand on her chest, as if trying to retain something intangible. “It is a pure essence that we breathe, isn’t it?”

Catalina kept his gaze fixed on the luminous horizon, and his voice reached us with the clarity of a thought of its own, resonating in the enclosed space with serenity.

“It is the essence of the valley, Arinda. We are crossing the membrane between what was and what will be. Your body recognises it because your soul has been here before, although your mind has forgotten. Stay in that sensation; it is our shield against the dark radiation.”

I looked out the window and understood what he meant. The exterior landscape had transformed into a visual symphony of liquid forms. The cliffs of “Cut Tree Canyon” shone like columns of violet and amber light that pulsed to the rhythm of our heartbeats. The vehicle navigated through matter with absolute grace, as if the physical world had decided to become permeable to our presence. I felt a profound emotion, a nostalgia for a place where I had never been, mixed with the absolute certainty that we were exactly where we should be.

Suddenly, the purple light on the dashboard flashed, turning a blinding white. The silence of the cubicle transformed into a gentle pressure in the ears, as if we were submerging into a dense and welcoming ocean.

“They have found us,” Catalina said, and I perceived a vibration of purpose in his rustic calm. “They are the guardians of the threshold. They are testing the integrity of our intention.”

Arinda clung to the edge of the seat, showing absolute surrender on her face.

“What must we do?” I asked, feeling how the micro-information in my organism began to warm up, acting like a key turning in an internal lock.

“Flow,” Catalina replied, and his hands released the controls of the barque, which continued to advance by its own will. “We must cease to be passengers and become part of the mechanism. Omar, the information you carry within is a language. Arinda, your song in the dining room was the opening frequency. I am only the vehicle that unites you. Resonate!”

The action that followed was spiritual and sensory. I closed my eyes and let the micro-information turn into vivid images: I saw Catalina’s Gothic city as a beating heart of accumulated history; I saw Richie handing over the 4x4 as the first link in a sacred chain; I saw Arinda Wandi as a siren of solid ground whose melody could reorder chaos.

I felt how my consciousness expanded beyond the limits of my body, merging with the silver alloy of the barque, with the breathing of my companions, with the pulsating light of the canyon. Emotions crossed us like sweet electrical currents: amazement, trust, the peace that Catalina emanated from the start, now amplified a thousand times. We were three notes forming a perfect chord in the midst of oneiric immensity.

The vehicle accelerated, entering the white light of the dashboard that enveloped us completely, dissolving the walls, the seats, even the notion of time. In that instant of total fusion, I understood the undecipherable message of the hieroglyphs: it was a welcome.

V. Epilogue: The Return Home

When the light faded, a new, fertile, and alive silence returned.

We opened our eyes in unison. The silver barque was stopped gently on a meadow of luminescent grass under a sky that housed a perpetual aurora of golden and pink tones. In the distance, rose an organic city, growing from the earth like a forest of crystal and life.

Arinda had tears in her eyes, but she smiled with a serenity that erased any trace of the frightened woman from the hotel. Catalina turned towards us, displaying on his face the fullness of one who has fulfilled an ancestral destiny.

“We have arrived,” he whispered, and his voice was now the same melody that the wind moved among the shining grass. “Not to the end of the journey, but to the beginning of what we always were.”

We got out of the vehicle. My feet touched the earth, and I felt that the ground recognised me, that the micro-information within me had integrated into my being like a recovered memory. I looked at my companions and knew, with an emotion that overflowed any word, that the journey of one thousand four hundred kilometres, the phantom checkpoints, the boring music of the Swiss girl, the peculiar nose, the cuts in the engine cover, and the terror in the dining room had been only the coded language of a dream necessary to awaken to this true reality.

It was then that I saw him. Among the luminescent grass, walking towards us with that same precise slowness, was Richie. He carried in his hands an ancient key that shone with the same light as the hieroglyphs. His smile was serene, confirming that his act of taking the 4x4 for repair was the decisive gesture that allowed this oneiric journey to culminate in harmony.

We were home. And the peace we sought at the beginning of Phase 1A was the very essence of which we were now made, breathing together under the eternal aurora, ready to live, finally, awake within the most beautiful dream of all.