★OliveR's Dream Journal★

In my dream,

I was keeping a massive snake—its skin patterned with bold stripes, its body slick and glistening from a recent shedding, as if reborn.

It lived inside a large clay jar, but it had grown far too big to be contained.

Its muscular body coiled and pressed against the rim, ready to rise, to emerge.

And beside me stood my longtime companion, someone I trusted more than anyone in this world.

“I want you to see this,” I said.

We both peered into the jar.

The snake slowly lifted its head and met my gaze.

In that instant, a voice—wordless, yet deeply clear—resonated within my chest.

“I am the embodiment of stolen lives.

I have come to confront the one who trampled them for his own ambition.”

The scene shifted.

We were suddenly in a lavish bedroom, a place both grand and hollow.

A canopy bed draped in velvet, golden embroidery woven through the carpet, thick curtains blocking out the light.

And in the center of it all, a man lay on the bed.

His name was Alexei Dronov—

a man who had sacrificed countless lives for the illusion of control, who issued commands not for peace, but for power.

Wrapped around his throat was the very same snake.

Its coils tightened as he gasped, his face contorted in panic.

But he was not yet dead.

It was not his end—

It was a message.

The snake was not alone.

It was formed by the silent rage and sorrow of those who had fallen on forgotten grounds.

Those who had been used and discarded.

The voices of the voiceless spoke through it:

“We will not forgive you.”

And yet, even now, Dronov was preparing to “move” again—

to raise his forces once more, in the delicate bloom of early spring,

as though trying to replay a long-faded glory.

But now, those who followed him did so in silence.

Many had no choice.

True loyalty had long since withered.

I stood there, my companion by my side,

watching.

Even after I awoke, the heaviness lingered.

The air of the earth, damp and ancient, seemed to follow me from the dream.

So did the snake’s eyes.

It still waits in the jar.

Its wrath pulsing quietly in the shadows.

And when the lid lifts again…

it may be soon.

1/1

2025.4.18 OliveR

Afterword: Listening to the Voices of the Lost

This story was not merely a fragment of a dream.

The serpent I encountered in that dream was more than a creature—it was a manifestation of lives discarded and disregarded.

Lives forcefully taken for the sake of someone’s ambition or desire for control, transformed into a single entity carrying the weight of sorrow and anger.

There are consequences in this world—though invisible, they exist undeniably.

Those who treat life as expendable will, in time, face the price of their actions.

It may not arrive immediately, but somewhere, silently and surely, it begins to move.

That was the presence I clearly felt in the dream.

Each of us lives with the weight of our choices and their impact on life itself.

To truly live, we must listen to the voices that go unheard.

We must not overlook the meaning of lives lost.

Let us remember: some forces stir beneath the surface—waiting, watching, remembering.

“This is a fictional story. All characters, countries, and organizations depicted are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to real individuals or entities.”

夢の中。

私は、巨大なしま模様のヘビを飼っていた。

脱皮を終えたばかりのその体は、ぬめるように光を放ち、まるで新たな命を得たかのようだった。

ヘビは、大きな壺に入れられていたが、その壺にはもはや収まりきらないほど成長していた。

今にも壺の縁を越え、這い出ようとしている。

私は、それを隣にいた相棒に見せていた。

長年連れ添った信頼できる友であり、何も言わずともすべてを共有できる存在。

私は言った。

「見て、この中にいるの。」

相棒は壺の中をじっとのぞき込んだ。

すると、ヘビがするりと身を起こし、こちらを見た。

目が合った、その瞬間——私の胸に、言葉にならない声が響いた。

「私は、奪われた命の化身。

己の欲のために命を踏みにじった者に、責を問う者。」

場面が変わった。

重厚でありながら虚飾に満ちた洋館の寝室。

天蓋付きのベッド、金の刺繍が施された絨毯、重たいカーテン。

その中央に、一人の男が横たわっていた。

彼の名は“アレクセイ・ドロノフ”。

数多の犠牲を顧みず、自らの野望のために命令を下し、命を奪ってきた者。

彼の喉には、あのヘビが巻きついていた。

ヘビは静かに、しかし確実に彼の首を締めていた。

男は苦しそうにもがいていたが、まだ息があった。

それは、終わりではなく——見せつけるため。

彼が命じて散らせた数多の命。

あのヘビは、その静かなる怒りと悲しみの集まり。

争いの場で倒れた若者たちの無念が、ひとつに集まった姿だった。

「もう、あなたを赦さない。」

ヘビは何も語らずとも、そう伝えていた。

それでもドロノフは、再び“動かそう”としていた。

春の訪れを知らせる花が咲き始める頃——

かつての「誇り」を演出するかのように。

けれど、もはや彼の周囲には、本当の意味で従う者はいなかった。

命令を飲み込むしかない者はいても、心から従う者は、誰一人として。

私はその光景を、相棒と共にただ見つめていた。

目覚めてもなお、あの視線と息遣い、壺に満ちる重たく湿った“地の気配”が胸の奥に残っていた。

壺の中のヘビは、まだそこにいる。

その怒りが、再び蓋を押し上げる日は…

遠くないのかもしれない。

1/1

　2025.4.18 OliveR

※ この物語はフィクションです。登場する人物、国、団体等はすべて架空のものであり、現実の人物・組織とは一切関係ありません。

※ 読者に意識の変革と平和の在り方について考えるきっかけを届けることを目的とした創作です。

Part 15: The Choice Before Dawn

At the top floor of the tower.

There sat the once-radiant “ruler” in a chair.

His name was Damian Stone.

Though he had become a force that shook the world, now his eyes were more fragile and lonely than anyone’s.

I quietly stood before him.

Before I could speak, he opened his mouth.

“If… I could start over again,

I wish I could have remained invisible, like you.”

His fingers were trembling.

Behind him lay a map detailing an escape route,

and piles of “gifts”—

a cursed wealth, earned in exchange for his freedom.

I spoke.

“No matter how deep you’ve walked with the darkness,

the eyes of those you once loved are still watching you.”

His face contorted in pain.

“I haven’t come to judge you.

I’ve only come to show you a choice.”

I held out the scroll.

He took it, closed his eyes—

and at that moment, light shone in through the tower window.

It felt like the arrival of dawn after the end of a long night.

What future he chose—

is still unknown.

But there is one thing we can say for certain:

“Truth, even when buried, continues to breathe in the light.”

And I left the tower.

Far in the distance, I felt one strand of the spider’s web

silently snap.

(End) 15/15

2025.4.14 OliveR

Part 14: The Silent Crossroads

Before me rose a towering structure, shrouded in white mist.

At its peak, a golden clock ticked in erratic, broken motions—

time itself had lost its order.

I stood at the base of the tower, waiting for someone.

Eventually, a figure emerged from the fog, draped in a black robe.

It uttered no words, yet it seemed to gaze into the deepest recesses of my soul.

Then, silently, it extended its hand.

In that hand was an ancient scroll.

As I unrolled it, I found a map of the world—and upon it, a golden spider.

Its legs stretched across many nations, each thread converging toward a single point.

“All lines converge on him.”

Was it the voice of my own thoughts,

or a whisper from within the mist?

I looked up toward the tower.

The hands of the golden clock had shifted—now pointing straight down.

As if to say: the time has come.

I nodded quietly, held the scroll to my chest,

and stepped into the tower.

14/15

続きを読む “Damian Stone — In the Shadow of a Great Nation”

Part 13: Trial and Resolve

The next day, Damian summoned me once again.

This time, he wasn’t in the dim basement, but seated by the window of a luxurious room.

“Do you understand what’s happening?”

he asked, gazing out the window.

In his eyes was the weariness of one who had already endured a battle—and the resolve of one prepared for the next.

“I don’t yet see the whole picture. But the path you chose will undoubtedly bring about great change.”

I replied.

He nodded silently, fingers interlocked in contemplation, his gaze fixed outside.

“There’s no turning back now.”

His words carried a certain conviction—the acceptance of the trials yet to come.

Damian stood and approached me.

“The path I chose… it won’t be easy. But if I want to end this, it’s the only way forward.

I also understand that every decision comes with sacrifice.”

I stood with him, returning his gaze.

“Whatever the cost, you must keep moving.

But never lose the truth that lives within your heart.”

Damian offered a faint smile.

“Thank you. Your words… they ease the weight just a little.”

Just then, a sound echoed behind us.

The door creaked open, and someone entered.

“The trial is near,”

a voice said.

Damian turned toward it.

“I’m ready.

Whatever the trial may be, I will face it.”

He said quietly.

I nodded at his words, letting my thoughts drift to the challenges that surely lay ahead.

But there was no room for fear. The chosen path would test us, and in doing so, forge our strength.

The deeper the darkness before us,

the more fiercely we would shine.

And with that conviction in my heart,

I readied myself to walk beside Damian toward the next trial.

13/15

続きを読む “Damian Stone — In the Shadow of a Great Nation”

Part 12: Beyond the New Choice

Damian Stone felt as though the world before him had subtly shifted the moment he made his decision.

Taking a deep breath, he carefully traced the lines marked on the map, overlaying them with the shape of his own future.

“The choice is mine,”

he said softly.

His voice, once laced with doubt, now carried a quiet strength.

In his eyes was the resolve to walk his path once more.

As I approached him, he looked up and met my gaze.

“But where do I begin?”

he asked.

I answered without hesitation.

“First, you need to make peace with your past.

It doesn’t matter what choices you made before. What matters is where you’re heading now.

Leave the past behind. Let it stay there.”

Damian stared at me in silence for a moment, then slowly nodded.

“That’s the right choice, isn’t it…”

He once again picked up the pen and began writing something on the map.

At that moment, a subtle tremor passed through the air, and somewhere, a low sound echoed.

It was as if something vast had begun to stir.

“Something just started to move,”

Damian said, looking at me.

I met his gaze in silence.

What his decision would bring to the future—

that, we could not yet see.

But one thing was certain: something within him had begun to change.

And the path now drawn on the map would soon point in a new direction.

12/15

続きを読む “Damian Stone — In the Shadow of a Great Nation”

Part 11: The Choice Engraved

Once again, I found myself standing in a dimly lit room.

Unlike the previous place, this seemed to be some kind of basement.

The space was oppressive and narrow, with old paper maps covering the walls and countless scattered documents on the floor.

In the center of it all sat Damian Stone.

He sat with his back straight, eyes closed, yet his face was etched with a deep expression of uncertainty.

“Back again, are you?”

The voice was likely from the weakest part of his consciousness.

I took a step forward and quietly approached him.

Damian, still with his eyes closed, silently awaited me.

“Damian, I know how much you are struggling right now.

But you must not forget there is another path.”

He slowly opened his eyes.

“A path…”

The word carried the weight of a lingering hope he seemed to be pulling back from the edge of fading.

“When I first chose that path, I thought I could never turn back.

But now, what is it?”

I asked.

Damian sighed and gazed at the map before him.

“What lies ahead on this map is power that everyone desires.

I obtained it. But the price of that power is…”

His words trailed off.

I moved closer and placed my hand gently on his shoulder.

“Power always comes with a price.

But gaining power is not the only answer.

What truly matters is how you use it, and for what purpose.”

Damian lifted his head and met my gaze.

In his eyes was a strong will I had once seen.

“What did I want to achieve by obtaining this power…?”

His voice was low, filled with deep regret.

“Is it too late?”

He whispered.

I paused in silence for a moment before answering quietly.

“It’s not too late. No matter which path you choose, you can always look back and choose again.

But the most important thing is what choice you make now.”

Damian stood up and picked up an old pen that lay on the map.

His hand trembled.

“I am still lost.”

His voice conveyed the heavy burden of past decisions.

“Being lost is not a bad thing. It is through being lost that one can find the true path.”

I smiled quietly.

He listened to my words for a while before, with trembling hand, he began to write on the map.

At that moment, the walls of the room seemed to faintly shake.

The time of choice had come.

“I’ll trust again.

The decision to choose again must come after that.”

Damian whispered.

And with that, he firmly ran the pen across the notebook.

In that moment, a single beam of light broke through the dim basement space.

11/15

続きを読む “Damian Stone — In the Shadow of a Great Nation”

Part 10: The Awakening Memories

In the dream, I found myself in an unfamiliar room.

Heavy curtains were drawn, and the faint sound of an old record played in the background.

In the center of the room was a large desk, reminiscent of the former presidential mansion.

And sitting across from it was… Damian Stone.

He noticed me.

Without looking away, he stared at me directly.

“Who are you?”

His voice was low and hoarse.

But I communicated to him, not with words, but through a deeper connection,

“I am one of the memories left within you.

The embodiment of the ‘will’ you once had when you were still pure—

The voice of yourself that you’ve forgotten.”

Damian’s hand trembled.

It wasn’t anger, but rather a painful, nostalgic ache, as if memories were stirring within him.

“I really wanted to change America…”

He murmured, almost to himself.

For a moment, the walls of the room seemed to tremble.

Books on the shelves collapsed with a sound, and from the chaos, an old notebook fell.

I picked up the notebook and placed it in front of Damian.

Inside were notes of policies he once wrote, drafts of speeches—

Traces of the word “ideal” written over and over again.

“You hadn’t touched the darkness back then.”

I said quietly.

It might have been an illusion, but for a moment, it seemed as though his eyes had welled up with tears.

Yet in that brief instant, he had indeed returned to the “old him.”

“It’s… too late.”

He said.

I shook my head.

“It’s never too late. Memories don’t disappear.

Even if you forget, even if the world loses sight of it—

Your true wish remains within you, always.”

After a moment of silence, Damian slowly reached for the notebook.

With each page he turned, the room began to faintly glow.

That light was proof that his heart still sought “salvation.”

I closed my eyes.

In that moment, the room seemed to dissolve into the wind, vanishing as if it had never existed.

10/15

続きを読む “Damian Stone — In the Shadow of a Great Nation”

Part 9: The Dawn of Trial

In the dream, I found myself in a world just before dawn, where the darkness was gradually fading away.

The air was taut, and in the silence, there was an unsettling presence.

I heard a voice from somewhere.

“He is preparing to flee. But don’t think he will be allowed to do so.”

The voice belonged to an “observer” cloaked in black.

They never spoke; they simply recorded the course of events.

But this time, it was different.

Even they were watching closely the movements of Damian Stone.

Damian had secretly devised a plan to escape the country.

But that information had already leaked.

It hadn’t been spilled by the “shadow organization,” but by someone within, who had leaked it as a “last resort.”

I watched the whole sequence of events in the dream.

It wasn’t the airport, but a private flying yacht.

His destination was the distant, sand-covered country in the east—a nation with whom he had forged a strong alliance.

Damian’s expression was grim, and there was no one by his side.

His family was nowhere to be seen, and he was attempting to flee alone.

But at that moment, something happened.

The map of his plan was suddenly covered in black ink.

The information that should have been in his hands vanished, one by one.

His passport, communication devices, accounts, and the list of collaborators—

All of it disappeared as if it had never existed.

“Someone moved,” I intuitively felt.

Had it been someone who had abandoned Damian?

Or perhaps, someone pure-hearted who still wished to stop him?

Damian looked up at the sky.

“I shouldn’t be here…” I distinctly saw his lips move, though the words were lost in the wind.

9/15

続きを読む “Damian Stone — In the Shadow of a Great Nation”

Part 8: Damian’s Choice

In the dream, I met him once again.

He appeared even more tired than before.

Damian Stone. The great figure I once knew now seemed to be pursued, preparing to flee.

“It’s you. We’ve met before,” he said shortly as he looked at me.

“You still have a place to return to,” I told him, not with pity or from a position of superiority.

Simply, as the truth.

He fell silent for a while. But in that silence, I could sense the inner conflict.

“I’ve… carried too much. No, perhaps I’ve chosen too much,” he said.

His eyes wavered.

“I did it to protect my family. And for the sake of the nation. But before I knew it, my hands… they were stained with money and lies.”

At that moment, the dream world shifted.

We were in a place with no ceiling. In the vast darkness, I saw the writhing forms of “the shadowed ones” behind him.

They didn’t speak; they merely commanded with their presence.

By obeying their orders, his “freedom” was gradually being eroded.

I quietly took a step closer and said,

“What you gained by contracting with the shadows is all an illusion.

But what is ‘real’ inside you hasn’t disappeared.

Your child knows it, and those you once loved know it.”

At that moment, he looked directly into my eyes for the first time.

“If I lose everything and still remain real…”

Damian murmured.

“Perhaps I must be prepared to return to… that place.”

At that instant, the wind blew.

Though it was a dream, I could clearly feel the air stir.

It was as though something had been decided.

I was certain of it.

Damian’s soul had, for a brief moment, touched the “self” he once was.

8/15

続きを読む “Damian Stone — In the Shadow of a Great Nation”