A grey morning at Loch Ness. Mist swirls, onlookers gather, and the Dauntless bobs at the dock—about as welcome as a Star Trek shuttle in a Highland fishing derby.
Authorities, local news, and monster hunters close in. Questions buzz like midges. None of the crew blinks.
A reporter elbows forward:
Reporter: “So you’re saying your boat came all the way from America… by accident?”
Spyder (grinning with a mug): “Not quite. We’re here for a mockumentary—myths, monsters, science fiction. Tourists love it. Shuttlecraft design? Pure production value.”
Wayne, tapping the hydrophone: “That’s our monster wrangler rig. Aquatic effects, the full package. The real trick’s in the demo. You’ll love it.”
Vanessa stands at the bow, artifact in hand, focusing. Athena pipes binaural beats through the hull’s internal PA.
Athena: “Activating Nessie demonstration protocol. Please keep all hands and smartphones inside the safety area.”
Skeptical laughter. Camera shutters. A kid waves a Nessie plushie.
Vanessa closes her eyes, hums along to the resonance, artifact glowing faintly. Air thickens. Water shimmers.
Then—
A head rises from the depths. Massive. Elegant. Real. Champ.
She loops in a graceful arc, nostrils flaring, blinking at the crowd with ancient eyes.
And then, cheers. Screams. Applause. Social media ignition. The lake erupts with wonder.
Reporter (wide-eyed): “Incredible! Is it animatronic or CGI?”
Spyder (deadpan): “Trade secret. Hollywood couldn’t pull it off—we did.”
Wayne: “Just don’t feed it after midnight.”
Vanessa (quiet, proud): “She’ll show up every time—for the right note… or maybe when she wants.”
Athena: “Demo complete. Public reaction: viral. Crew status: legendary. Nessie status: undiminished.”
Sometimes, the best trick? Telling people it’s a trick—and letting their imagination fill the gaps. Because sometimes, truth is too strange to succeed alone.
Mockumentary success rating: absurdly high. Champ “performed” on cue. Crowd wowed. Reporters want interviews. Still can’t believe we pulled it off… with the real monster. Feels like cheating at poker—with the only winning hand. No injuries. One mildly offended sheep. Everyone's laughing now. Feels good. But I can’t shake the sense Champ’s smile was half-thank you, half-warning. The show’s over. The risk—the dark—is still out there. Tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow… we guard the portal for real.
If anyone asks, yes: Nessie is house-trained and responds to bagpipes. Crowd control tip: give kids selfies—they’ll believe anything. Maintenance: hydrophone cables secure. Artifact’s pulsing like a disco ball. The hard part comes next. Pie supply dangerously low. Morale risk: high.
I kept thinking—if Champ can smile, she did tonight. I felt her pride. I felt her fear too. We got the crowd to clap. We got the monster to come. But it was only rehearsal. The shadow at the door is still there. Watching. Hope I’m ready. Hope we all are.
Demo classification: “comedic success.” Threat anomaly: unchanged. Portal harmonics: still unstable. Crew morale: hopeful. Projected requirements: — Defensive countertech — Caffeine logistics End of report. Which is clearly the start of the next problem.