A colossal object rises from the ocean and begins moving inland at five miles per hour. It does not attack. It does not speak. It does not change direction.
Within days, identical forms emerge from the seafloor around the world, advancing steadily across coastlines, farmland, highways, and cities. There is no explosion, no ultimatum-only motion. Governments mobilize. Scientists calculate trajectories. News cycles accelerate. Ordinary people gather at the edge, watching the boundary shift yard by yard.
The phenomenon cannot be negotiated with or redirected. It can only be measured.
As weeks turn into months, humanity is forced into a strange new rhythm: adapting infrastructure, recalculating borders, reorganizing economies-learning to live alongside something vast and indifferent. The crisis is not sudden destruction, but sustained uncertainty.
Blending speculative scale with literary restraint, The Interval explores collective behavior under prolonged pressure and the quiet spaces where history turns.