The spire of the church on Harlow Hill is overshadowed by a strange aerial vistant. Not only do Horsingdon's transmitter arrays attract these uncanny intrusions, but it seems that the region's sacred sites follow suit. Such locales have long been recognised as places of power: nodes in the landscape where this world intersects with those unknown zones of being and entity which endure just beyond the horizon of perception.
And whilst such nodes sometimes allow us a horrifying glimpse of infinite spheres otherwise outside the scope of our perceptual spectrum, they also occasionally permit the many terrible shapes which lurk in the abysmal depths of those nameless and numberless dimensions the opportunity for ingress into our world....
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