She slides across the surface of the water, a blue dart in the blackness. The water iridescent. The world below in silence, estranged from the sky.

The foam comes in waves, covers the meadows of violet seaweed. The sea stretches out above the sky, hides the black creatures. Far away, the horizon glows lime green.

A sound sends a shudder through her body; blows of incandescent light come from within. She trembles, moves faster and faster. She feels drawn to the tunnels’ dark holes. The fearsome abyss ends in an undulating cave of fresh black water in which to shelter, its shape reminiscent of a skull.

There are others awaiting the signal as well.

It’s said that the Yacana make their way through the waters of a river. It is truly a very large river. It comes from the sky, becomes blacker and blacker. It has two eyes and a very long neck. It comes walking down from the sky covered in mud.

They’d never been described. The human gaze had never fallen upon them. The LatAm project harbors these beings inside.