SEASON-1: ECHOES FROM ABYSS
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Episode-1: One day
Year 1988
Date: July 31
2:30 a.m.
All of California lay asleep.
At that hour, a violent, piercing sound was heard—from very far away.
Before anyone could understand what was happening, people had already poured out of their homes onto the streets. The entire region shuddered—twice in quick succession—followed by a strange, lifeless flash of light.
Many claimed that, that night, somewhere offshore from California, an otherworldly object was seen descending rapidly from the sky into the sea.
The government of the time, however, dismissed the entire incident as an earthquake, somehow managing to bury the truth.
Yet in early 1990, a shocking report published by a journalist named Philip Xovier resurrected the incident from two years prior.
For the first time, the public learned of a secret research facility called Zone 077, linked to an unknown extraterrestrial object—or possibly a life-form—under covert study.
But before the full truth could surface, an unidentified group intervened. The report, along with all related documents, was erased, and the matter officially declared a rumor.
Most unsettling of all—
the journalist himself was never found again.
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"Come to Big Sur Cliff. Fast. I need to tell you something important. From here, we'll go to the tree house.
Just come first—I'll explain everything then."
Pedaling his bicycle, Ren spoke hurriedly into his small button phone, calling his friends.
A short while later, Aran and Louis arrived at the spot Ren had mentioned. They saw Ren standing a few steps away from the cliff's edge, his bicycle propped to one side, staring out at the ocean. The place lay dangerously close to the sea—one could reach the shore if they climbed down from the cliff.
"What happened, Ren? Why call us like it's an emergency?" Aran asked.
Hearing the familiar voice, Ren turned. He looked at them as if he had been waiting for a thousand years.
"Listen. I went to the tree house today to get my toolkit. Just as I was about to go inside, I noticed the flat patch of ground behind it—you know the one? On the grass there, I saw a—"
"I get it. A dead badger," Aran cut in. "This kind of prank isn't funny, Ren. Are you going to say something real, or should we leave? We have a pre-test coming up."
"Oh, so you study more than I do now?" Ren snapped. "You think I called you here to joke around? Go ahead, go study—no need to listen to me."
Aran realized Ren was serious.
"Okay, sorry. Go on—what is it?"
"Yeah, tell us. What did you see?" Louis asked.
"A girl."
"What?!"
"A girl near our tree house?" Louis exclaimed. "That place is deep in the forest—no one can just find it."
"Who is she?" Aran asked, recovering slightly. "Someone we know? From the neighborhood?"
"No. None of us knows her. She's not from around here. We know every dog and cat in this area from wandering around so much—but she's a stranger. I came straight back and called you. If we hurry, we might still find her there."
"Then let's go," Louis said.
The three friends rode off together toward the tree house.
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The girl lay surrounded by them, as if enclosed in a triangle. She wore a light pink sleeveless top and a long white skirt. Her curly black hair spilled over her face, hiding it from view. She was fast asleep.
"Aran… try nudging her, see if she wakes up," Louis whispered.
"Why me? You do it," Aran snapped. "Ren should do it."
"And why is that?"
"Isn't your birthday tomorrow? Birthday boy should do the honors."
"What kind of honor is that? And what does this have to do with my birthday?"
"Someone wake her up already," Louis said impatiently. "She's sleeping in front of our tree house. If she's not from around here, we need to know who she is."
"Fine. I'll do it. You two stay back."
Ren walked over slowly, knelt beside her, gently shook her arm above the elbow, called out twice—no response.
Louis and Aran tried calling too.
Her face was covered by a lock of hair. As Ren reached out to move it aside, she suddenly bit his hand—like a frightened cat fighting for its life.
"Ah—hey! Let go! Who are you? What are you doing here?!"
Louis and Aran immediately grabbed her arms and pulled her back, restraining her. The bite wasn't hard—Ren was fine.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Ren demanded.
Then he noticed her trembling.
"Louis, Aran—let her go. She's scared."
"Scared? We should be scared of her. She's like some kind of zombie," Aran scoffed.
"Let me go. I won't come back here."
For the first time, they heard her voice clearly. The fear in her bluish eyes had lessened—perhaps realizing they were about her age, and not truly dangerous.
"They'll let you go," Ren said, "on one condition—you don't run. Just answer a few questions."
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The small tree house stood supported by two slightly-above-average redwood trees. It wasn't very sturdy, but could easily hold six or seven people. A rope-bound box served as a makeshift elevator, and a spiral wooden staircase wrapped around one of the trees.
The three friends sat with their unfamiliar guest as if in a meeting.
After gulping down two full glasses of water, the girl spoke again.
"My name is…" She hesitated. Ren wondered if she was unsure about revealing it.
"My name is Sylvie. I went out for a walk. You know the pier a bit away from here? I walked from there toward the forest and ended up near your tree house. I didn't have the courage to climb up, but the sunlight there was beautiful—the grass so soft and green. I lay down to rest… and fell asleep. Then you woke me. That's all. I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'll leave now—"
She stopped again.
"Where do you live?" Aran asked.
"Near the lighthouse you can see from the pier—the place like a small island. I live there. With Mommy and Papa."
The three exchanged glances. They knew that lighthouse was abandoned—no one lived or worked there.
"How do you live there?" Ren asked.
"Like anyone else. I live in a small room on the rooftop. Mommy and Papa work outside most of the time. Sometimes they come to see me. Otherwise they lock me inside. Sometimes Brother Noah comes to bring food."
"Brother Noah?" Ren asked. "Who's that?"
"My brother. Others live there too—I call them uncles."
The boys stepped aside, whispering among themselves.
"I think she's lying. Or she's crazy," Louis said. "That lighthouse is abandoned. If anyone's living there, it's illegal."
"We should check," Ren said.
"How did she even cross the sea alone?" Aran asked.
"Let's ask," Louis said.
They turned back to her.
"Who came with you?" Ren asked.
"No one. I came alone."
"How did you come alone? Tell us the truth."
"I did. The door was unlocked, so I left. I saw some uncles leaving in speedboats—they're the only ones who go to the city for supplies. I hid and got on. I didn't want to stay trapped in that room anymore. You could say I ran away. They docked here at the pier. I slipped away. I'm not going back."
"But leaving without telling your parents isn't right," Ren said gently. "They probably did it for your own good. You should go back. They'll worry."
"But—"
"We'll help you go back. Let's go to the pier and see if we find someone you know."
(That way, they could also confirm whether anyone really lived at the lighthouse.)
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Four figures stood hidden behind bushes, watching the pier where four speedboats were docked.
"I think your people came looking for you," Louis said.
"But I don't want to go," Sylvie pleaded.
"I think it's better if you do," Ren said calmly, almost like an adult. "Try to understand. Tell your parents you don't like being locked alone. But at this age, you can't survive alone, far from your family."
"I agree," Aran said.
Suddenly, a massive figure appeared behind them. He grabbed Louis by the shoulder.
"Who are you?" the man roared.
Ren and Aran froze—whether to run, or save Louis—before Sylvie cried out,
"Uncle Pat—let him go!"
"You? Sylvie? What are you doing here? Why did you run?"
Then he shouted behind him, "Boss—we found Sylvie!"
Several guards appeared instantly. Two restrained Ren and Aran. One ran forward and lifted Sylvie into his arms.
"Brother Noah—tell them to let them go."
Ren recognized the red-haired teen holding her—Noah.
"They'll be released," Noah said. "But first—why did you come here? This was wrong. Your father will be very angry."
A man in a white jacket stepped forward. He wore round glasses.
"Noah, take Sylvie away. I'll talk to her later," he ordered.
"Mister, we don't want any trouble. Please let us go," Louis pleaded.
"No problem," the man replied. "Thank you for bringing my daughter here. Release them."
Aran and Louis ran the moment they were freed. Ren ran a few steps—then stopped. He turned back.
The man frowned.
"Do you live in the lighthouse? I heard it was abandoned. Are you living there illegally?"
The man smiled.
"No. We have government authorization."
"Please—Sylvie said you keep her locked inside. Don't do that. Or this might happen again."
"I'll keep that in mind. What's your name?"
"Ren. Ren Elion Xovier."
"Jovier?" The man paused, as if the name stirred something—though he clearly didn't know him.
"Then we'll meet again, Ren. Goodbye."
Ren left.
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It was late. The friends parted ways. Louis and Aran promised to visit Ren the next evening for his birthday.
Ren returned home, where he lived with his mother, uncle, aunt, and cousin.
"Mom? Are you there? I'm back home."
He parked his bicycle in the backyard and went inside.
"Why so late? Are you okay? It's already eight," his mother Ilara called from the kitchen.
"Sorry, Mom. I had some work."
"What kind of work keeps you out so late?"
"Sorry, Mom."
"Go study. Exams are coming. Dinner will be ready by nine."
"Where are Uncle and Aunt? And Aiden?"
"They're out. Go study."
Ren found it strange—his mother hadn't mentioned his birthday. Though it was tomorrow.
He went to his room and started studying, but exhaustion took over. He fell asleep at his desk.
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A slight jolt woke him.
Someone was calling his name.
"Ren, happy birthday, dear. Your uncle is bringing a cake. He'll be here soon. And look at you—already asleep. Wake up. Wait… what's that sound?"
...…
Ren jolted fully awake. Ilara had already left the room. He heard the front door open downstairs—voices in the hall.
He hurried out and hid near the staircase. The two-story house had a split stairway—the lower part facing the hall, the upper turning away slightly.
From the top, he saw his mother standing on the landing. Fear and shock filled her eyes.
...…
"Who are you? Philip?"
"Dad?" Ren froze.
Philip was his father's name. He knew his father was abroad for work. They had last met in Thailand a year and a half ago—before Ren and his mother moved to California.
Then—
strange sounds.
Gunshots.
Bullets tore into Ilara's body.
Ren couldn't speak. Couldn't think. Was this a dream? His eyes felt like they would burst from their sockets.
Ilara collapsed. Her clothes soaked in blood. A muffled groan echoed—someone else, gagged.
For the last time, Ilara looked at her son.
Someone grabbed her legs and dragged her away.
Ren stood frozen—stone still.
Suddenly, someone covered his mouth from behind with a cloth. The touch felt familiar. He never saw who it was.
His world went dark.
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