West Africa, 1720s. The Atlantic slave trade is at its peak - and the grief it produces doesn't disappear. It accumulates. Condenses. Builds bodies. They are called Eaters. Creatures born from suffering that was never witnessed, never mourned, never answered. And they are multiplying faster than the Hunters trained to kill them can keep up. For every Eater destroyed, three more form on the coast. Beneath the Atlantic - assembled from two hundred years of the drowned, the thrown overboard, the ones who jumped - something vast is nearly awake. The only weapon against what's coming is truth, spoken out loud, with witnesses present. The question is whether anyone will survive long enough to speak it.