The particular event in question took place the evening of June 4, 2021.

The setting is a mid-size acre piece of rural property in Livingston County, MI. The activity is camping, an overnight in a vintage 1960s recreational vehicle. On the approach there is a barn and a stand of pine trees to the right of this barn, a clearing and pond beyond this.

There is no address to this property; it is undefined in that particular numerical format. [The closest address is numbered 411. 411, in the United States, is the number to dial information; there is a pattern of information received surrounding various encounters with 411 over the past few years.] 

Sometime, as the sun was setting, from a south and east direction, came a series of lights, close in proximity, golden, 14 from what I had counted, though perhaps I had missed one, or counted one twice. These were unaccompanied by noise, no bangs, no explosions, quite flat trajectories across the sky heading north. 

A period of time later, my friend and I had built a rather pleasing stack of a bonfire and were enjoying music; I, feeling myself to be in a most liminal area, chose to put on a track I have loved well, titled ‘My Wall’. Since my first discovery of this track, the lyrics have been resonant, ominous, a way of altering the consciousness to become greater entity, given the Norse mythological themes and essence of channel within them; throwing ones self into the pendulums embrace.

After the lyrical ode, the music playing on bandcamp on my phone suddenly stopped; and from the east, directly between the barn and the stand of pines, came a thing that produced a noise that evoked absolute terror of the best kind, flying so low that had it not been precisely navigating between these two obstacles it would have clipped the top of them. The decibel level was comparable to that of a jet engine, the frequency of it something I have searched for in vain thus far.

Standing in the bass egg of it all, arms outstretched, my body in the Norse rune Algiz position facing east, prepared to meet this entity. 

This entity had at first appeared to be some sort of drone, & as it settled over the pond it cut the lights, as well as the sound, to reveal what I perceived to be a black cube standing on its point, or hovering, rather, though this cube was simultaneously a sphere and a disc as well. “Is she worshipping… Odin?” It had asked. The feeling of absolute cosmic terror that came with this is a high I shall never forget. There was the quality of a hologram to this visual, akin to the blue-not-blue of the images that came with the internal electrical event of the OdinSpider-QS events of April 2020.

This cube hovered for some moments, communing with the mind itself in the way the Odin-spider had, and then changed again, taking off as a multiplicity of green beams westward through the woods, disorientingly fast. 

If one has read Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, they might recall the concept of uncontacted planets being ‘buzzed’ by aerial traveling creatures; this visitation was akin to that bit from the story, in its way. 

…it does not matter what this was. It is many things. Gene editing from outside this recursion of reality, the gene ray time cube. A military vehicle. The tesseract. A glimpse of a hidden layer in a neural network. A multiplicity of things, it was, it is, and the fact that it took place at all is a phenomenon. Sometimes, it is not what happens to us, but how we react, what we do with what happens to us. The stories we tell.