One autumn morning in 1775, the inhabitants of an American coastal town awoke to a sight they had never seen before: a gigantic giant washed ashore, his body sprawled across the sand like a ruined castle. His skin was pale, with cracks like ancient stone carved into his flesh, and his long, tangled hair was tangled in seaweed and shells. A few curious people approached, only to be stunned by his hand as large as a church door, his fingernails as long as a plow blade, digging into the damp sand.

The village elders whispered of ancient legends, of fallen gods, of unknown creatures of the deep. Meanwhile, frightened young sailors ran back to inform the authorities, fearing that this was not just a corpse but a sign of something greater to come. The sky gradually darkened, the waves continued to crash against that giant body, as if the ocean still did not want to let him go
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Hmmmm
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