


What follows is the first season’s collection of field journal entries recorded during a three-year exploratory research initiative into supernatural and unidentified aerial phenomena across the Pacific Northwest. As one of the core investigators on our team, I documented our findings with an artist’s discipline and a skeptic’s eye—though even skepticism has its edges worn thin beneath certain skies. Especially when coming from a background of mythology steeped living. These pages represent our initial foray into a landscape where folklore and physics collided more often than expected. We set out to observe anomalies and truth; what we encountered began to blur the line between documentation and personal reckoning.
We called ourselves…


Think of these entries as both personal and behind-the-scenes journal entries
Most of the team admitted the cave art felt authentic, ancient, and deliberate
Caleb remarked that it mirrored Hopi and Lakota ancestral visitor stories.
Donna agreed — and pointed out something we all seemed to miss in the moment
No evidence of melting, artificial creation, or heating that could suggest mechanical involvement.
Everyone had theories, and most of them were worth writing down.
“Weather does what it wants,” he said, “but sounds don’t lie.”
Electromagnetic suppression. It’s not unheard of. But it doesn’t explain all of it
All different people. All missing time. All consistent descriptions of coastal lights bending unnaturally before blinking out.
Team A saw a blue-white flash low on the horizon around that same time
“You won’t find the answer in the files. But keep them. Someday, someone else might.”
At first, I didn’t hear it. But once I said it, it came to life
















