Travis Taylor can’t take his eyes off the screen!

There’s something moving this way.
Hey you guys, you guys, do you see the orange light coming from the west?
The orange light, do you guys copy?

This is right near a location on top of the mesa where ancient indigenous people built a stone monument that’s meant to represent a portal on Skinwalker Ranch.

Now we’ve also seen that happen numerous times with other rockets and GPS devices at the Triangle, so I was really eager to immediately launch another rocket to see what would happen next.

Skinwalker Ranch. What was Bigalow hiding about Mount Wilson?

As we fix our gaze upon the haunting enigma that is Skinwalker Ranch, the mystery doesn’t fade; it deepens, beckoning us to press further into the unknown.

Just beyond the familiar sites on the property, near the windswept top of the mesa, lies a location often passed over in mainstream investigations.

Here, high above the ground and shrouded in ancient silence, indigenous people once constructed a stone monument—a deliberate structure believed to symbolize a portal, a gateway between worlds.

But what if this isn’t just myth? What if the stories of strange lights, otherworldly entities, and electromagnetic phenomena are mere fragments of a far larger and more disturbing truth?

Sources close to the project now suggest that during Robert Bigalow’s secretive ownership of Skinwalker Ranch, critical information about nearby Mount Wilson was not only withheld but actively concealed.

This adjacent mountain, long whispered about in hush tones by locals and tribal elders alike, may hold the missing piece of the puzzle—evidence of ancient technology, a cache of hidden alien artifacts, or something far more sinister, something even Bigalow’s advanced research teams couldn’t fully explain or contain.

Early explorers may have overlooked or deliberately ignored anomalies at Mount Wilson.

The few who dared to report what they encountered spoke of unexplainable electromagnetic pulses, time distortions, and even visions that defied the laws of physics and reason.

One whispered account tells of a metallic heartbeat pulsing beneath the rocks—an echo of something buried, something alive.

As new investigations ramp up, it becomes clear we’re standing on the threshold of a revelation that could upend everything we think we know—not just about Skinwalker Ranch but about humanity’s place in the universe.

The veil is lifting. The secrets Bigalow locked away are now unraveling.

Get ready. What lies beneath Mount Wilson may not just be alien. It may be something darker.

As Andy and Paul deploy cutting-edge technology originally developed under the direction of Robert Bigalow, the investigation takes on a new level of urgency.

Bigalow’s connection to both this site and the infamous Skinwalker Ranch is no coincidence.

He poured vast resources into uncovering truths the rest of the world wasn’t ready for.

Now, the tools he left behind—thermal imaging systems, deep earth scanners, and a custom-built AI designed to detect and track unidentified aerial phenomena—are in the hands of those willing to pick up where he left off.

Rumors persist that somewhere beneath this rugged land, possibly beneath Mount Wilson itself, lies the wreckage of a nonhuman craft buried long ago, hidden from view, protected by forces not yet understood.

Whether those are natural, technological, or something far stranger remains to be seen.

As night descends and the desert goes quiet, the team is jolted into action.

The AI suddenly emits a piercing alert—a heat signature unmistakably artificial and moving with unnatural precision is detected underground.

It’s not a geological formation. It’s not an animal. It’s something else, and it’s moving.

Before they can react, the ground shudders beneath them, instruments flicker, the radio crackles to life, and then a voice—unmistakably real, yet impossibly distorted—says: “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Silence follows, but the message is clear. Something or someone knows they’re there.

Despite the fear gripping their chests, Andy and Paul press on, guided by both their training and the unshakable pull of discovery.

Every scan reveals layers previously invisible to the human eye—subterranean voids, strange geometric shapes, electromagnetic spikes rising, and rhythmic pulses.

The data points to a presence, a structure, or a mechanism buried and dormant—or perhaps awakening.

The deeper they probe, the more the air thickens with anticipation.

Could they be on the verge of confirming what Bigalow once suspected but never disclosed?

Is this truly contact with technology or intelligence not of this Earth?

Or what lies beneath may change everything.

And the real question now is: will they survive long enough to uncover it?

They know that if their devices detect even the slightest anomaly, it could unlock the door to extraordinary discoveries—perhaps even the truth about what’s really hidden beneath the surface of Mount Wilson Ranch.

The stakes are high, and with every sweep of their instruments, a mix of excitement and unease hangs in the air.

For Andy, Paul, and the rest of the team, each blip, each spike, each pattern in the data could be the missing link to the mysteries they’ve been chasing for years.

Their mission isn’t just another paranormal stakeout; it’s a scientifically calibrated expedition.

Every sensor, every reading is feeding into a sophisticated data network—a system of advanced tools originally designed for Skinwalker Ranch, where the inexplicable has become almost routine.

From thermal cameras scanning the Earth for underground heat anomalies to AI-powered UFO tracking systems capable of locking onto fast-moving aerial objects, to spectrum analyzers picking up strange and often untraceable radio frequencies, the gear they’re using isn’t just good—it’s the best that exists, and they know it.

This equipment gives them an edge, maybe even the chance to make history.

As the last rays of sunlight vanish behind the mesa, the team begins their overnight surveillance.

The air grows cooler. The desert is silent save for the hum of machines quietly interpreting the invisible.

Their instruments come alive, each one tuned to catch the slightest break in the normal.

The thermal cameras begin painting a map of temperatures, looking for heat signatures where none should be.

High-powered spectrum analyzers listen to the air, straining for distant signals—unfamiliar, encrypted, or possibly unearthly.

Drones are prepped for deployment, armed with multi-sensor arrays designed to map electromagnetic distortions in real time.

All of it is connected to the broader investigation unfolding at Skinwalker Ranch.

The team suspects the phenomena at both locations might be linked—part of a larger, possibly global mystery involving hidden energy fields, non-human intelligence, and ancient structures aligned with forces long forgotten.

There’s a quiet intensity among the group.

They’re standing at the threshold of something that could alter the way we view science, history, and reality itself.

If what they find tonight matches the legends or surpasses them, they’ll no longer be hunting shadows—they’ll be confronting truth.

We’ve been working tirelessly to bring together as many individuals as possible—scientists, technicians, and eyewitnesses who were involved in the covert operations surrounding Mount Wilson Ranch over the last two decades.

With their collective knowledge and a full arsenal of state-of-the-art technology, the team is primed for a night that could rewrite everything we think we know about the region.

At first, the stillness of the evening is almost deceiving.

A gentle desert breeze rustles through the sparse brush, and for a moment, it feels like just another quiet night under the stars.

But that illusion doesn’t last long.

The shift begins subtly.

One by one, the devices begin lighting up.

First, it’s the spectrum analyzer detecting a low-frequency signal—faint yet unmistakably rhythmic.

It pulses with an eerie regularity, following a pattern that suggests intention—not random noise, not natural interference, something far more deliberate, a potential signal from intelligence.

Excitement ripples through the team.

Could this be the same frequency that’s been detected in past investigations at Skinwalker Ranch?

The signal is faint but growing stronger, almost as if it’s reacting to their presence.

Then comes the chilling realization: this signal might only be the beginning.

Over the years, Mount Wilson Ranch has been plagued by mysterious sounds—deep hums, bone-rattling vibrations, even phantom voices that seem to rise from the earth itself.

The team knows these frequencies could be connected, and tonight might be the night they finally track them to their source.

In a sealed lab nearby, a secondary research team is working in parallel.

Using archived data, they’ve recreated one of the low-frequency patterns detected during a previous operation—68Z, a designation given to a very specific vibrational signature.

This frequency is unique.

It travels effortlessly through the Earth’s crust, capable of covering vast distances underground, and according to the latest data, it’s active again.

By feeding this frequency through a tone generator, the lab team hopes to provoke a response, maybe even activate something hidden.

The goal isn’t just detection anymore, or it’s communication, or possibly revelation.

Back at the ranch, the atmosphere turns electric.

The readings intensify.

The same frequency begins echoing across multiple devices.

Accelerometers detect faint tremors.

A pressure sensor logs an unexplained atmospheric dip.

And just as someone moves to recalibrate, a low hum fills the air—deep, mechanical, and growing louder.

The team exchanges glances.

They’re no longer just observers; they’re in the middle of something alive.

This moment could mark the turning point—not only for Mount Wilson Ranch but for the decades-long effort to uncover the layered secrets that lie beneath its surface.

Secrets of ancient technology, nonhuman presence, and forgotten mechanisms embedded deep within the Earth.

And tonight, those secrets might finally be stirring.

The 68 ZID frequency had long intrigued the team—not just for its unique ability to travel vast distances underground but for its potential in long-range communication, possibly even with non-asterrestrial intelligence.

The theory was simple but profound: if something was buried beneath Mount Wilson Ranch—be it a craft, a structure, or a mechanism—it might not only respond to this frequency but be waiting for it.

Recognizing the implications, the team carefully calibrated their instruments—not only to reproduce the 68 ZID signal but to amplify it, refine it, and ensure it was focused precisely on the anomaly-rich zone beneath the ranch.

This was no longer passive observation—they were now participants in an experiment they didn’t fully understand, reaching out with intention to something that may or may not choose to respond.

It was delicate work.

Power had to be modulated perfectly to avoid disrupting surrounding systems or triggering false readings.

Waveform integrity was maintained to prevent distortion, and shielding had to be adjusted to protect their own instruments from feedback.

It took hours of slow, meticulous adjustments and simulations, but finally, the signal was ready.

They activated the transmitter.

The lab fell into a hush.

All eyes were on the monitors as the 68 ZID pulse was sent into the earth—one long, deliberate tone, clean and steady, vanishing into the crust beneath Mount Wilson.

The frequency was chosen not just for its propagation qualities but because it shared a strange resonance with another deeply guarded detail from Skinwalker Ranch—the 1.66 GD frequency.

This frequency, 1.6 GHz, wasn’t just another radio band.

It’s widely recognized in aerospace and SETI circles as a privileged interstellar communication channel reserved for Earth-to-space and space-to-Earth transmissions.

Its detection at Skinwalker Ranch had raised eyebrows for years, especially since it’s not typically used by consumer or commercial devices.

To find it again, linked to another mysterious site, suggested more than coincidence—it suggested connection.

The team’s experiment was risky.

If they were right, they might trigger a response.

If they were wrong, they’d get silence or worse—interference so intense it could damage their equipment.

A weak signal would be disappointing.

No signal at all might be more frightening.

But just minutes after the broadcast, the silence broke.

At first, it was subtle—a tiny shift in the spectrum analyzer’s noise floor.

Then a fluctuation.

Then a second frequency appeared.

It was faint, pulsing, echoing—not random.

It was a reply.

Not from any known source.

Not from a satellite.

Not from a military channel.

It had characteristics of intelligent modulation—structured repeating intervals, nested harmonics.

And more disturbing still—it mirrored the 68 ZID signal like a ping returning from a sonar pulse, but coming from beneath them.

An uneasy electricity swept the room.

The data confirmed it—they had made contact.

If only by triggering a reaction.

Instruments spiked.

The seismic monitor picked up a micro tremor, as if something had shifted below.

The electromagnetic sensors flared, reading a brief but powerful surge—the frequency response increasing in amplitude, responding.

A cold realization settled in.

They were no longer alone in this experiment, and whatever had received their message had decided to answer.

A significant spike appeared across the team’s instruments—strong, unmistakable, and far beyond ambient background noise.

This wasn’t a glitch.

It wasn’t static.

It was a powerful and intelligent response.

The energy returned from their signal wasn’t random.

It had form, rhythm, and precision.

It was reacting to their exact transmission—almost like it had been waiting for that specific frequency all along.

The team stared at the screens in stunned silence—not fully grasping the scope of what was unfolding but knowing instantly this was something extraordinary.

A direct cause and effect event had occurred—they transmitted the 68 ZID frequency, and something beneath Mount Wilson responded forcefully.

The implications were staggering.

They weren’t just investigating unusual signals anymore.

They were now standing at the edge of a completely new domain of science—one that suggested interactions between energy fields, frequency patterns, and potentially intelligent systems hidden beneath the surface of the Earth.

This wasn’t just about UFOs or ghosts or folklore anymore.

This was controlled, deliberate, technological, possibly even extraterrestrial.

As they observed the phenomenon, Paul locked in concentration gave a quiet knowing nod.

The nature of what they were seeing defied anything their previous fieldwork had prepared them for.

The signature they picked up wasn’t just powerful—it was structured.

It seemed to carry embedded data, encoded variations, as if it were more than a mere echo.

It was possibly a message or even a handshake, an acknowledgement of their presence.

And then, as quickly as it began, it began to fade.

The moment they ceased transmitting the 68 ZID frequency, the anomalous events started to vanish.

The frequencies that had pulsed through the equipment slowly diminished, leaving a heavy stillness in their place.

The equipment quieted, but the silence that followed wasn’t normal.

It was charged, as if something just below the surface had shifted.

The team couldn’t ignore the obvious.

The signal wasn’t just bouncing off bedrock—it had interacted with something or something buried, something possibly alive, aware, or at least technologically reactive.

The idea that their signals had made contact with a buried craft or ancient system once again surged into conversation.

Andy, reviewing the data in real time, emphasized that all they had done was return the same signal they had initially detected during their passive radio survey.

Yet the response had been immediate and overwhelming.

Whatever it was, it had responded to its own forgotten frequency—almost like they had awakened a dormant system.

This wasn’t just confirmation of an anomaly—it was activation.

As the desert night deepened, the team realized they had crossed a threshold.

Whatever lay beneath Mount Wilson Ranch was no longer a passive mystery.

It was interactive, possibly even part of an ancient or extraterrestrial system designed to respond to specific energetic signatures.

Their experiment had worked, and now the stakes were higher than ever.

This was more than just a scientific breakthrough.
This was the next step in unraveling the Bigalow legacy,
a web of secrets stretching back through two decades of hidden research, shadow projects, and classified findings at both Skinwalker and Mount Wilson Ranch.

And this interaction might be the key to unlocking all of it.

What happened over 200 ft beneath the surface of Mount Wilson Ranch left the team shaken and more determined than ever.
The deep, resonant interaction they had just witnessed made one thing clear:
there was something extraordinary below them, something intelligent or at least responsive.

It made them ask, “Why was Robert Bigalow, a man with unlimited access to secrets, drawn so intently to this land?”

The possibility that they had just communicated with the buried remains of a non-human craft stirred both wonder and dread.
The excitement was tangible, but there was also a silent question looming in every mind:
were they waking up something that was never meant to be disturbed?

Pushing forward, the team decided to retrace Bigalow’s steps literally.
In a storage shed left from the earlier era, they uncovered dust-covered projectors and vintage equipment believed to be part of the secretive experiments conducted decades ago.
They brought the gear into the lower meadow, a location already known for its strange electromagnetic behavior.

Here, the quiet serenity of the meadow felt deceptive — the soft wind, the rustling grass —
it all masked a powerful and unsettling energy humming beneath the ground.
The air itself felt charged, as if watching them.

Using the old Bigalow-era projector, the team initiated a recreation of the original experimental setup.
As beams of light flickered across the surface and through the misty darkness, a low, deep hum began to rise — not from the machine but from beneath their feet.
It was a sound unlike anything they had heard before: 68 hertz, steady and powerful, resonating from the earth itself.

The tone wasn’t just noise; it was alive, echoing with a deep harmonic structure that suggested it wasn’t natural.

In a daring move, they used their equipment to capture and loop the signal back into the ground.
That’s when everything changed.

The hum grew louder, more dynamic; its structure began to fluctuate.
Soon, radio equipment in the surrounding area began to spike with interference.
Frequencies they hadn’t touched began reacting, signals scrambled, the electromagnetic spectrum twisted into patterns that shouldn’t have been there —
almost as if the ground itself was responding to their probe with its own message.

The meadow now felt like a living thing, an interface, or perhaps even a veil covering something powerful.

As the hum grew in intensity, it felt less like a natural vibration and more like a warning or summons.
They had awoken something.

Was this what Bigalow’s team had discovered before and chosen to bury in silence?

Whatever the answer, the team now stood at the very edge of a revelation that could rewrite everything we thought we knew —
not just about Mount Wilson or Skinwalker Ranch, but about the nature of human contact with whatever waits just beyond the veil.

During the projection experiment, the team made a remarkable discovery:
an ultra-low frequency signal at exactly 68 hertz, emanating steadily from the ground beneath the lower meadow.

Intrigued, they decided to bounce the signal back into the environment using specialized equipment.
What followed stunned them all: the Earth seemed to respond.

At first it was subtle — slight modulations, tiny anomalies in the spectrum.
But as they continued, it began to feel unmistakable.
The responses grew more intelligent, more deliberate, as though they had stumbled into a two-way exchange with something embedded deep below the surface.

Each new test brought back increasingly refined, data-rich responses, forming a pattern that no one could ignore.

The team realized they weren’t just observing a phenomenon, they were communicating with it.

It was as if they were peeling back invisible layers of the earth, revealing a structure or intelligence that didn’t want to be found but couldn’t help but answer.

Through every exchange, the signals became clearer, sharper — like a voice learning how to speak again.
These weren’t echoes of geology or random electromagnetic anomalies; they were signals that reacted with purpose.

A strange stillness surrounded them, amplifying the strangeness of it all.

Normally, research sensitive attracts attention: interference, strange aerial activity, even unmarked SUVs appearing on the horizon.
But this time, nothing.

No helicopters, no outside surveillance, just an unnatural quiet that felt less like safety and more like being watched by something unseen.

This absence of interference allowed them to press deeper — but it came with a heavy unease.
The silence was too complete, too calculated, like the calm before a storm.

The researchers moved carefully, exchanging tense glances as the equipment quietly blinked and beeped around them.

Every new signal, every new confirmation deepened the sense that they were standing at the threshold of something enormous.

And yet the deeper they probed, the more the atmosphere thickened with tension —
the kind you find in stories whispered around campfires or told by people who have seen something they can’t explain.

This wasn’t just a scientific endeavor anymore.
It had begun to feel like a haunted dialogue with the land, with the past, or with something not human.

Whatever was down there, it was aware. It was listening.
And now it had started to respond.

The team’s efforts at Mount Wilson Ranch had already begun to pay off —
not just in data, but in the strong bonds forged through late nights, technical challenges, and moments of mystery.

Their teamwork, sharp instincts, and dedication didn’t go unnoticed.
With every new finding, their respect for one another and from those watching their progress only grew.

So when Brandon Fugal arrived on site, the atmosphere changed instantly.
It was like a reunion charged with purpose.

Travis Taylor and the others were eager to share updates and their vision for the upcoming phase.
Brandon, ever sharp and perceptive, listened closely as the team explained how their efforts had led to important breakthroughs:
pinpointing high-interest locations, detecting strange radio frequencies, and even engaging in what might be interactive signals from beneath the ground.

Brandon’s praise was clear and heartfelt:
they had accomplished more than anyone expected.

Then, as conversations drifted toward the deeper history of the ranch, the mood shifted.

Brandon brought up a chilling story that hadn’t been widely shared —
an encounter Robert Bigalow himself had experienced on the property one night.

During Bigalow’s tenure at Mount Wilson Ranch, he reportedly came face to face with an entity —
a massive figure so tall it had to bend to avoid hitting the ceiling of the room it stood in.

It spoke clearly and firmly: “Leave now. Things will happen here.”

Everyone fell silent.

The strange encounter didn’t end there.
The next day, Bigalow relayed the story to a trusted telecommunications worker, a seasoned professional helping maintain the ranch’s infrastructure.

The technician’s response wasn’t skepticism but a concerned nod.
There had already been oddities with the signal transmissions.

Then Brandon mentioned something even more unnerving, something harder to explain in scientific terms:
“There’s no reason for photons to travel 5 or 6 feet and then stop,” he said,
“but here, that’s exactly what was happening. Everything beyond that was just blacked out.”

The implication was staggering: something in the environment was halting the movement of light itself — not absorbing it, stopping it.
No known material behaves that way.

The team exchanged serious looks.
Travis furrowed his brow, already thinking through physical models that might account for the anomaly — but he had nothing. Not yet.

It was enough to prompt immediate action.

The team mobilized to install high-definition thermal cameras, full-spectrum sensors, and recording equipment in the lower structures and meadows, especially near the locations tied to Bigalow’s story.

If there were entities still moving through those areas, if there was any kind of interaction between environmental variables and some unknown force, they were going to catch it — or at least try.

And with that, the hunt deepened.

Not just for evidence of energy signatures or buried structures, but for something far stranger —
something that could block light, something that could speak, something that had told Robert Bigalow to leave and might be watching them now.

As night settled over Mount Wilson Ranch, the air was thick with anticipation and something unspoken —
an electric charge that made every breath feel heavier.

The team had come armed with cutting-edge technology, ready to peel back the layers of a mystery that had haunted this land for decades.

But nothing could have prepared them for what was about to unfold.

Andy Bamante’s fingers danced across the controls of the thermal camera, his eyes glued to the screen as it scanned the shadowy corners of the room.

Suddenly, the feed shifted from the swirling static.
An impossible shape materialized — a tall humanoid figure, perfectly still but utterly devoid of heat.

It was like staring into a living shadow, a phantom that existed just beyond the veil of normal reality.

The temperature around them seemed to drop instantly, and the hairs on the back of their necks stood on end.

For a breathless moment, the figure lingered — an eerie sentinel standing silently in the darkened corner — before it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

The screen flickered violently, then the system abruptly rebooted itself as if trying to erase any trace of what they had just witnessed.

Andy barely whispered, “Did you see that?”

It was right there — no heat signature, just nothing.

The room fell into tense silence.

Every eye locked on the screen as they replayed the footage frame by frame.

The figure reappeared — a shadow carved out of coldness, moving impossibly against the warmth of the surrounding air.

It was like the ranch itself was revealing a secret, daring them to follow.

Their minds raced back to the stories Robert Bigalow had shared of a towering presence that had once appeared to him in these very halls —
of being so enormous it had to stoop just to fit inside.

And now here it was again — proof that the ranch was far more than a patch of mysterious land.

It was a crossroads between worlds.

Outside, the ground beneath the lower meadow thrummed with a faint, haunting hum — 68 hertz,
a frequency they had painstakingly recreated and sent back into the earth during their earlier experiments.

It was as if the ranch was alive — listening and responding in kind.

A sudden chill swept through the room, and the normally buzzing electronics dimmed, flickered, then pulsed as if synchronized with an unseen heartbeat.

The team exchanged looks — a mix of awe and dread.

They weren’t just uncovering secrets anymore — they were waking something.

The air seemed to thicken with every heartbeat, every breath drawn deep with equal parts excitement and fear.

Outside, distant shadows shifted shapes, moving just beyond the floodlights.

The ranch’s infamous silence was shattered by the crackling hiss of static on their radios, followed by a barely audible whisper:

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Every hair on the team’s body stood on end.

They were deep in a story far larger than themselves, one that stretched back through centuries of indigenous legend, Bigalow’s eerie encounters, and now their own undeniable contact.

The night was alive with possibility, and the team knew this was no ordinary investigation.

They had crossed a threshold.

Mount Wilson Ranch wasn’t just a place on the map anymore.

It was a gateway.

And whatever waited on the other side was watching, waiting, communicating.

The question wasn’t if they would uncover the truth.

It was if they were ready to face it.