I was at Harvard or Yale, and they had vaults, which are large lockers made of stone, constructed in the early 1800s or so. There were keys, and you could go there to retrieve items or do something. I came in from the side because I had been there before and knew that if you went around the fountain, you could get down there. So, I snuck around that way, and the ducks moved out of my path. But when I got in there, you're kind of at the top, so we had to go down. We ran into someone I knew, though I don’t remember who it was; I didn’t recognize them. They were already in there, so then we started going down, and we had one of the keys, which was for 801 or 953 or something like that. So, they opened up the vault, and there was a bunch of stuff in there; it looked like more junk than anything else, but there was some gum. I think they took a piece of gum. For some reason, you had to go out to do the next one, so I went out and got a key for 801 and came back in. But then we went back in there, and there were a few other people—maybe four or five—setting up some equipment. They were saying that there were a bunch of cameras there that were like drone cameras, taken out of the drones and just sitting on the ground, but they record everything. The friend I was there with had already grabbed something from somewhere else and was going to steal it, but once he knew the things were recording, he set it down. Because those people were there, I didn’t feel like opening another vault, so I just walked out. Then, there was a guy on the outside who was asking me for money, but he just expected me to give it to him. So, I said, "Well, we have something," but I don’t remember what it was. He’s like, "Oh, that’s not good enough." I said, "Well, if you aren’t expecting me to give you something, I’m not gonna go to you. You get nothing," and then walked away further. For me and the other friend, we walked between these two construction equipment things, but I always complain about something. So, I just walked out because that was it.

This dream can be interpreted as an exploration of personal identity, curiosity, and the fear of being caught or judged. The setting of Harvard or Yale, prestigious academic institutions, may symbolize your aspirations, intellectual curiosity, or feelings of inadequacy in pursuit of knowledge. The stone vaults, hidden and locked away, represent repressed memories, emotions, or aspects of your personality that you've kept hidden. The keys signify access to these hidden parts of yourself, and the numbers on the keys (801, 953) could be significant to you in some way, perhaps dates, addresses, or other personal markers.

The ducks moving out of your way suggest a sense of determination and purpose in accessing these vaults, while the unknown acquaintance you encounter may represent an aspect of yourself that you don't fully recognize or understand. The junk and gum in the vault could indicate that what you find within these hidden parts of yourself may not be as valuable or meaningful as you expected.

The cameras and the fear of being recorded signify a worry about being judged or exposed. This anxiety causes you to hold back and not fully explore the vaults, suggesting a hesitation to delve deep into your subconscious or share your true self with others. The encounter with the man asking for money represents a fear of being taken advantage of or a resistance to giving something of yourself without receiving something in return.

Overall, this dream may be encouraging you to explore your hidden emotions and aspects of your personality, while also being cautious of judgment and exposure. It could be a call to balance your intellectual pursuits with emotional introspection and self-acceptance.

In the heart of an ancient Ivy League campus, either Harvard or Yale, I found myself standing before a monumental stone structure, a relic from the early 1800s. The vaults, immense and imposing, were said to hold treasures beyond imagination. I knew the secret way in, a path less trodden that snaked around an ornate fountain, where ducks paddled lazily, moving aside as I approached with purpose.

Slipping around the fountain, I descended into the vaults, the air growing cooler and damper with each step. At the entrance, I encountered a familiar face, though their name escaped me. Together, we ventured deeper, our footsteps echoing ominously. I held a key, an antique thing with a tag bearing the number 801. The vault creaked open to reveal a chaotic mess of what seemed like junk—old papers, forgotten trinkets, and surprisingly, a pack of gum. My companion helped themselves to a piece, and we prepared to explore further.

Exiting the vault, I secured another key, this time for vault 953. As we re-entered, we found the chamber buzzing with activity. Four or five others were setting up an array of drone cameras, their lenses glinting menacingly. My friend, who had earlier pocketed an item, hesitated, then set it back down, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. The presence of the cameras dampened my enthusiasm, and I decided to leave, feeling the weight of their unblinking gazes.

Outside, a man accosted me, demanding money with an outstretched hand. I countered that I had nothing to give, and he scoffed, turning away. With my friend, I walked between two hulking pieces of construction equipment, their yellow paint a stark contrast to the ancient stones of the campus. As we left, I couldn't shake the feeling of unfinished business, the vaults' secrets still tantalizingly out of reach.