That hum. That oily smell. Those were his clues. Thin, fragile, but enough to keep him awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying it all. Something out there was real, something built, something that didn’t belong. And Erik was the only one in the village who cared to find out what.
The village carried on as though Erik’s stumble on the beach had confirmed everything. They whispered more openly now, confident the monster had shown itself. The men who once fished every tide started refusing to launch at dusk. Some wouldn’t even go at dawn, muttering about curses that clung to the water.