The tide goes out and comes back again, symbols are broken and reborn. And they stand on the gap between history and reality, clenching their fingers stained with alum paste, trying to write a human code into this ancient chaos before being swallowed up.
(Cthulhu-style ocean horror × intergenerational memory inheritance, when the indescribable deep tide learns to imitate humans, the sharpest weapon is the past we have never forgotten.)
