One evening in December 2013, as darkness shrouded Redondo Beach, California, I witnessed something utterly inexplicable. For a full three minutes, four yellowish lights danced slowly above me, shifting shape in a hypnotic ballet unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
They moved with deliberate slowness, molding into four or five distinct forms, each shape eerily distinct before seamlessly dissolving into the next. The lights held a steady glow, their steady pulse casting a ghostly illumination against the night sky. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, their brightness dimmed and they vanished, swallowed by the black expanse above.
This was not an ordinary aircraft, nor any familiar aerial phenomenon; these lights seemed alive, changing and morphing with an intelligence that chilled me to the bone. The memory of that night remains vivid, a haunting reminder that some mysteries refuse to be solved, lingering just beyond the edge of reason.