I decided to come to you before anyone else.

I won't mince words: the latest findings are concerning, to say the least. First off, let me be clear--Loch Ness is a massive field of water. It's wider than some countries and deeper than the Black Sea. It has been a strain to study it so closely, and in such an unprecedented way, so please, don't let these reports circulate until we've been able to confirm them.

I can't even begin to guess what would happen if people learned about the truth. Forget the tourism industry, the publicity, and the conservation efforts it's been enabling us to greenlight. This could change the world. This might sound extreme, but you know very well what my team can do. We're the best.

It started normal enough, believe me.

We kept our scope as wide as possible; we wanted to find something that could be confused for a plesiosaur. We saw logs and seals and the occasional sturgeon, but nothing special. We scanned every inch of the lake in search of just about anything.

First, it was a school of fish disappearing between winks of the sonar. Then massive disturbances, usually in pairs, moving closer and closer to the surface and then vanishing just before they reached it. The crews of some boats recorded strange shifts in currents, unexplained waves, and shapes moving just below the surface. But whenever we went to confirm these sightings, we found nothing. No hard evidence, no explanations, just eyewitness reports and confusion.

The more we stayed out there, the more we believed. We felt like we were never alone out there, and that there was something dangerous lurking in those waters. But we never felt afraid. In fact, I dare say a lot of our crewmembers reported a newfound peace with their surroundings and a sense of kinship with this 'Nessie'. And the more we believed, the more we saw or were allowed to see, I guess. That's when the evidence started piling up. Tendrils of water stretched across land, arched above the surface, and shattered against the coastline before our eyes. We weren't idle, either. We filmed them, measured them, charted them. We connected them to other phenomena when it seemed appropriate. They happened around us.

The anomalies hinted at something bigger; a cohesion in the lake itself. Something self-sustaining, propagating, adaptive. Something that feels fear and defends itself when necessary.

I see it in your eyes that you understand what I'm getting at. Or maybe you just think I'm crazy. Maybe I am, but when you read these reports, you'll find that it's undeniable.

I don't ask you to trust my word; it means nothing. Trust the hard, tangible, evidence instead. We have a word for what we found out there. You won't like it. We didn't like it at first, either, but eventually, as scientists, we had to accept the overwhelming proof of what we were dealing with.

We found life out there. And this life behaves as life does; it attempts to perpetuate itself. It lures in believers, skeptics, scientists, and holidaymakers--and in time, forms a symbiotic bond with them. When they leave, they help further its survival by supporting conservation efforts.

There's something in the Loch Ness, we're sure of it now. But it's no giant reptile, seal, fish, or leech. It's bigger, so much bigger. It's wider than some countries and deeper than the Black Sea. It's awe-inspiring.

It can think, Director. I am sure of it.

It might even feel.