Driving back from town just past 10 PM near the North Pole, Alaska, my brother and I found ourselves caught in a strange and unsettling encounter. The lingering brightness of the summer solstice made the night unusual, but nothing prepared us for what happened next. As I sat in the passenger seat, the car’s electrical system suddenly flickered. The radio cut to static, and then the car stopped completely. We pulled over, bewildered and looking around to understand what had just occurred.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bright glow — an unsettling aura encircled a formation of nine ships crossing the sky in erratic patterns. The shapes weren’t consistent; their colors shifted unnaturally, and an eerie hum filled the air around us. It was unlike any aircraft I’ve ever seen. The whole scene had an aura of menace fused with mystery. Our car’s electronics had clearly been affected — the interference was tangible, almost magnetic in nature.
We climbed back into the truck, both of us rattled but unable to look away. For what felt like hours, though the clock confirmed only minutes had passed, we watched this formation float and dance against the dim northern sky. Then, suddenly, the ships streaked away in a blink, moving with a speed that defied explanation.
That night, under the endless twilight, the normal rhythm of time seemed to slow as we bore witness to something otherworldly. The experience left a lingering question, a haunting memory etched into the quiet Alaskan sky.