Bab 233: The Signal Beneath the Waves

The sea had always called to Emily, its rhythm a comforting constant in her otherwise tumultuous life. As a child, she spent hours combing the shores, imagining adventures across the horizon. But as she stood on the cliff's edge now, staring down at the storm-churned waters below, the ocean felt less like a friend and more like a threat.

The wind howled, whipping her dark hair across her face as she clutched the old radio transmitter in her hands. It was heavy and rusted, a relic of a time long past. The signal it emitted—a faint, rhythmic pulse—had drawn her to this exact spot, miles from civilization.

She glanced at the journal in her other hand, the pages worn and water-stained. Her father had written it, chronicling years of research into a mystery he'd kept hidden from her until his death. The last entry had been the most cryptic: