The baby seal sneezed.
Right in my face.
I laughed, wiping off the splash with my sleeve as the little creature blinked at me with round, unapologetic eyes.
"Charming," I said, cradling it closer. "Guess you're not a fan of heartfelt reunions."
"You don't remember me do you? My names Kaho."
The salty breeze caressed my cheeks as I knelt on the warm, damp sand, the baby seal nestled comfortably in my arms. Its soft fur was cool against my skin, a gentle contrast to the sun's warmth. I looked down at the little creature, its eyes closed in contentment, and couldn't help but smile.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" I murmured, gently stroking its back. "I missed this place… and you."
The seal let out a soft, almost purring sound, nuzzling closer. I chuckled softly, the sound carried away by the wind.
'From the look in your eyes I can tell you're wondering why I'm here."
"I'm helping out my cousin again," I continued, speaking more to myself than to the seal. "She's still researching the seal population here. It's peaceful, being back."
I had returned to this secluded marine reserve to assist my cousin, a dedicated researcher devoted to the study and preservation of these creatures. Memories of past summers spent here flooded back—days filled with wonder, learning, and a deepening bond with the ocean and its inhabitants.
The seal nestled closer, its whiskers tickling my arm. I chuckled softly, running my fingers along its smooth head.
"You might not remember me but I remember you—or maybe one of your siblings. You all look so alike."
As I continued to stroke the seal, it shifted slightly, turning its head toward the vast expanse of the ocean. Its sudden stillness drew my attention, and I followed its gaze. The horizon stretched endlessly, the sky and sea melding into a seamless canvas of blues and golds.
My eyes settling on the horizon where the sky met the sea.
Then, a whisper—ethereal and distant—brushed against my consciousness: "Cosmic molecular ocean."
Echoed in my mind, as if carried by the wind itself: "Cosmic molecular ocean."
I stiffened, my heart skipping a beat. The words felt both foreign and familiar, resonating deep within my soul. I glanced around, searching for the source, but the beach remained deserted save for the two of us.
I blinked, startled. There was no one else on the beach.
I heard it clearly. Not in my mind. Not imagined. It was a whisper, audible, out in the open air.
I turned my head immediately. Nothing. The beach was empty. The wind was light. There was no one nearby. No speakers. No aircraft. Nothing that could have made a sound like that.
But I had definitely heard it.
That was when I felt the seal go still in my arms.
Its body—relaxed just a moment before—had tensed. Its head was lifted, staring directly toward the ocean. Eyes wide. Unblinking.
The seal squirmed in my arms, its eyes wide as it stared out at the ocean.
"Did you hear that?" I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty.
It reacted at the exact same time I heard that voice.
I knew it couldn't answer. I wasn't expecting it to.
I asked because I needed to confirm I wasn't the only one who had reacted.
But the way it had stopped at the same moment—so suddenly—it felt like more than coincidence.
Because in that second, the seal was the only other living thing there.
And it had noticed something, too.
It remained motionless, eyes fixed on the horizon.
The air grew thick with anticipation, and an inexplicable pull urged me to stand. With the seal still in my arms, I rose to my feet, my gaze never leaving the sea.
And in that moment, it was the only other living thing with me on that beach.
The seal squirmed in my arms, its eyes wide as it stared out at the ocean. I tightened my hold, offering comfort.
Then, the sea began to change.
I looked back at the seal. It stared, unmoving, toward the water.
And then, the rumble.
A low rumble echoed from the depths, and before my eyes, the water began to swell. From the horizon, a massive wave began to rise. A massive wave rose from the depths, unlike any I had ever seen, a colossal wave surging upward towering above me, casting a shadow that engulfed the beach. Within the wave, a radiant light shimmered, pulsating with an otherworldly glow.
Time seemed to freeze. The seal trembled slightly in my embrace, but I held it firmly, offering what little comfort I could.
I stood frozen, mesmerized by the spectacle.
The ocean heaved, gathering power, the wave's crest glowing with a bright, sharp light pulsing just beneath the surface.
The wave began to curl forward.
It was coming.
I turned away and crouched low, shielding the seal with my body.
I held my breath.
One second.
Two.
No impact.
No water.
Just the sound of the wind.
I opened my eyes.
Slowly, I turned and looked over my shoulder.
The wave was gone.
The ocean was drawing itself back to normal—but above it, the light that had glowed inside the wave was now rising. It shot upward in a clean, fast arc, piercing the sky with impossible speed. I watched it climb higher and higher until it vanished beyond the clouds.
It moved fast—too fast for my eyes to track.
Within a matter of seconds, it vanished into the upper sky, flying out of view. I kept watching, but it was already gone—completely out of my sight. Just like that.
I stood there, breathing hard, still holding the seal. The ocean was calm again.
"…What was that?" I muttered.
The tide moved in gently, brushing my feet like nothing had happened.
But I had seen it.
I stepped forward slowly.
"Did I really just see that?"
I held the seal close, my eyes still on the sky where the light had disappeared seconds earlier.
And that—
was where everything began.
I held the seal close, my eyes still on the sky where the light had disappeared.
I didn't know what that was.
But one thing was clear.
Something was happening.
Even if I didn't understand it yet…
it had already begun.