Things may be a little more exciting than we tend to assume.
I was part of a fast attack crew stationed in the Atlantic in the early 2000s. I won’t say which boat. That’s the one thing I won’t reveal. If you do a little digging — fast attack deployments, sonar anomalies that got “lost” in paperwork — you’ll figure it out. It’s not that well hidden if you know where to look.
What we made contact with wasn’t a whale, wasn’t a known submarine, and wasn’t something you could explain away. It moved in ways that shouldn’t be physically possible, and it responded to us. After the event, teams we didn’t recognize took over. Different protocols, different rules. Our official reports don’t match what actually happened.
There’s something under the ocean — something constructed — something we aren’t supposed to know about.
Now that we’ve finally ruled out natural processes operating on the basis of random chance beyond any reasonable doubt, this opens the door to a whole new range of possibilities. It may be, but it’s probably not entirely an accident that the field of biology was steered into an inevitable dead end for the last 165 years.