599: Project Pegasus | The CIA's Child Time Soldiers
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In 1968, a six-year-old boy stepped through a shimmering curtain of light and vanished. When Andrew Basciago's vision cleared, he was no longer in an empty airplane hangar in New Jersey. He was standing in a muddy field. He'd practiced this moment for weeks. Walk through the crowd, find the platform, observe, memorize, report back.

Andrew weaved his way between soldiers and civilians, but his oversized shoes kept sticking in the mud. He finally made it to the front, and then he saw him. A tall man in a black coat climbed onto the platform and removed his hat. The crowd fell silent. It was November 19th, 1863 in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and Abraham Lincoln was about to give a speech.

The Gettysburg mission was a success. Andrew Bishago traveled back to 1863 and returned with memories that were sharp, vivid, and historically accurate. For the scientists at Project Pegasus, this was the breakthrough that they needed. But the technology that sent them there wasn't developed in a government lab. It was found in a hotel room. Found? Uh, the word you're looking for is stolen.

On January 7th, 1943, Nikola Tesla died alone in room 3327 of the New Yorker Hotel. Within hours, government agents sealed the room. They confiscated everything, 80 boxes of ideas, inventions, and decades of research.

When Tesla's belongings were returned to his family, 20 boxes were missing. The FBI still has classified Tesla documents they won't release. We've covered this in our Tesla episode, which is linked below. Those 20 boxes launched dozens of black projects over the next 15 years. Weather modification, directed energy weapons, mind control technology, all traced back to those stolen files.

And at this point in time, the United States had the atomic bomb, the transistor, the ENIAC computer. The U.S. was confident, cocky even, that it was the most technically advanced country in the world. But in 1957, it realized it wasn't.

Today, a new moon is in the sky. The world's first artificial satellite called the Sputnik 1. One of the great scientific feats of the age. The people of the United States have been humiliated. What went wrong? They're disturbed. How did a nation of backward peasants forge so dramatically ahead of us in the race to space? The course of United States policies in the competition with Russia has been severely shaken.

Why and how did the Russians beat us to the draw? We had better get on our toes. We must see to it that whatever advantages they have are temporary only.

The Soviets had launched Sputnik, the first artificial satellite, a metal sphere the size of a beach ball circling the Earth every 96 minutes. Americans were terrified. If the Soviets could put a satellite in space, they could put a nuclear warhead anywhere on Earth. The CIA, the military, the best scientists, nobody saw it coming.

President Eisenhower demanded answers. Within weeks, he created ARPA, the Advanced Research Projects Agency. Later, they'd add defense and become DARPA. Their mandate was simple. Make sure America was never surprised by technology again.

DARPA had unlimited funding and one goal, stay ahead of the Soviets at any cost. But despite all that money and manpower, America kept falling behind. In 1963, America was losing the space race. The Saturn rocket program was still years behind the Soviets. Saturn is still going to put us well behind, several years behind the Soviet Union. I can just say to you that regardless of how much money we spend on the Saturn, the Saturn is going to put us, we're still going to be second.

without making a determination based on careful scientific judgments as to whether a real success can be achieved or whether, because we're so far behind now, this particular race is... we're going to be second in this decade.

DARPA scientists were desperate. They decided to dig deeper into those stolen Tesla files. Maybe there was something they'd missed, something that could give America the edge it desperately needed. And in 1968, buried under all those notes and research, that's exactly what they found.

Thank you.

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The basement of the Curtis Wright building in Woodridge, New Jersey, isn't on any blueprints. The freight elevator went down past the ground floor and kept going, one floor deeper than it should. Armed soldiers escorted visitors down the hall. No name tape, no rank, no insignia. This was the most secret program in America. They were building Tesla's teleportation device.

Teleportation was more powerful than any nuclear weapon. With this technology, America could put a million soldiers in Moscow instantly. Asians could grab every Soviet leader and lock them up. The United States could end any conflict without firing a shot.

The lab was a windowless concrete room. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. It smelled like ozone and burnt metal, that sharp electric smell that you can almost taste. Tesla's machine was in the center. Two gray metal pillars, eight feet tall, ten feet apart.

And that was it. The scientists expected something impressive. Instead, they got two pillars and some copper coils that looked like they belonged in an old radio. The whole thing plugged into a wall socket. But the cord wasn't drawing power from the grid. Tesla had discovered that empty space isn't empty at all. It's full of energy. What we now call zero-point energy.

Physicists have put off calculated there's enough zero point energy in an empty cup of coffee to boil all the Earth's oceans. Now, I cover this in our free energy episode that Tesla had figured out how to tap into it. Dr.

Dr. Harold Agnew assembled the machine exactly to Tesla's specifications. Every measurement, every angle, everything matched the stolen designs. And looking at it, he was sure something was missing. This couldn't possibly work. Dr. Sterling Colgate disagreed. He'd studied Tesla's other inventions, the alternating current motor, the Tesla coil, wireless electricity. Tesla's work was always simple, always elegant.

The first test was March 12th, 1968. Five people in the room: Agnew, Colgate, and three technicians. One manned the power switch, another monitored instruments, and the third stood by with a fire extinguisher. They flipped the switch.

Nothing happened. At first. Then the pillars began to vibrate. Not a hum, but a frequency that you felt in your bones. The lights flickered. The air between the pillars shimmered like heat waves over hot pavement. But it wasn't heat. The temperature was actually dropping. 60 degrees, 50, 40. Their breath became visible. Ice formed on the concrete walls. Colgate grabbed a pencil and tossed it between the pillars.

It vanished. They waited five seconds, ten, twenty. Then the pencil fell from the ceiling. But it wasn't the same pencil. The yellow paint had turned brown. The metal band was corroded. The wood cracked when it hit the floor. The machine had aged at decades in seconds. Now, if it can do that to wood and metal, what would it do to flesh and blood? Well, there was only one way to find out.

The volunteers lined up outside the machine room. Young military physicists who understood the theory and had seen the object tests. Now it was their turn.

Dr. Agnew explained the procedure one more time. Step between the pillars, enter the energy field, exit at the destination point. Simple. The first destination was Sandia National Labs in Mexico, 1,800 miles away. A receiving team waited with medical personnel, monitoring equipment, and a direct line to the Pentagon.

Lieutenant Morrison went first. 26 years old, Rhodes Scholar, perfect physical condition. He stepped through the shimmer and vanished. The receiving team in New Mexico waited. Five minutes, 10 minutes, an hour. Morrison never arrived. Not in New Mexico, not anywhere. The best physicist in the program had simply ceased to exist. The second volunteer made it through.

But something went wrong. Lieutenant Farley spent 30 seconds in the field. When he appeared into Mexico, he'd aged 30 years. His hair was white. His skin was paper thin. He tried to speak but collapsed. The medical team couldn't save him. Cause of death? Old age. He was 31.

They recalibrated everything, checked Tesla's notes, made adjustments. The third test stayed local, just one floor up, 10 feet of distance. Lieutenant Hutchins stepped through.

What happened next made everyone in the room step back. Hutchins arrived in pieces, not torn apart, separated in time. His legs materialized first, his torso 30 seconds later, arms two minutes after that. The medical team stood by helplessly. His heart had arrived before his lungs. His brain was sending signals to limbs that existed in different moments in time.

The few who survived came back broken. Private Anderson made a successful jump and returned physically intact, but he couldn't stop screaming about the space between, the place where time moved sideways, where he felt himself dying and being born over and over again, where past and future existed in the same moment, and his mind tried to be in both. The psychiatrist sedated him, but he never spoke again.

Dr. Agnew studied the data from 15 failed tests, 15 volunteers, only three survivors, and all went insane. But there was a pattern. Morrison was 26 when he vanished. Farley was 31. Anderson was 19 and survived, though his mind didn't.

The younger the subject, the better the outcome. Adult consciousness was the problem. Too rigid, it's too fixed. When you're 30, your brain knows how reality works. And when that reality breaks, so does your mind. But children, their minds were still forming, still flexible. They could bend without breaking.

Agnew knew what this meant. The military had done terrible things before in the name of national security. We covered some of this in our MKUltra episode. But using children as test subjects crossed a line that nobody wanted to cross.

That's when Raymond Basiago spoke up. Ray worked for the Ralph M. Parsons company, DARPA's main contractor. He'd been on the project from the beginning and understood the stakes. Ray had a six-year-old son, smart kid, resilient, adaptable. Ray volunteered him for the program. Agnew wanted to say no. Every instinct told him this was wrong. But the data was clear, and they were out of options and out of adult volunteers. The

the children were their only chance.

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The lab at Curtis Wright looked like any government facility. Gray walls, gray floor, gray ceiling, metal desks covered in paperwork, coffee stain mugs next to oscilloscopes and voltage meters. You'd never know this bland room was about to send a six-year-old boy back in time.

Andrew Basciago stood between the metal pillars. The machine hummed. Not loud, more like a vibration that made your teeth hurt. He'd done this before. Three times to Santa Fe, once to his grandparents' house in Ohio.

But this jump was different. This time he was going farther, way farther. November 19th, 1863, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. President Lincoln would give a speech. Andrew's job was simple. Watch, listen, remember, report back.

The shimmer started between the pillars. The air got thick. Andrew knew the feeling, like trying to walk through jello. He took a deep breath and stepped forward into the vortical tunnel. Then everything went white. ♪

Then his feet hit mud. Cold mud that squished into his shoes. Except these weren't his shoes. They weren't huge. Adult military boots that flopped when he walked. He was wearing a Union uniform. It was itchy and smelled old. And the smell hit him hard. Sweet and rotten mixed with horse manure and smoke. Andrew's stomach turned.

But...

Moving was hard. The oversized boots kept sticking in the mud. A soldier muttered something about whose kid he was, but nobody stopped him. Just another boy in uniform.

The ground was churned into thick mud, not regular mud, in places it had a rusty color. The battlefield was only four months old. The earth still remembered. Somebody's elbow caught Andrew in the head. His eyes watered, but he didn't cry. He had a mission. Find the platform. See Lincoln. Remember everything. The platform came into view. Raw wood hammered together. Men in top hats stood around it.

They looked different than everyone else. They had clean clothes. They looked fed, like they belonged in another world. Then the crowd stirred. People pointed. They got excited. A tall man in a black coat climbed onto the platform.

Even from where Andrew stood, he can see how tired Lincoln looked, how his shoulders bent forward. The president removed his hat. He cleared his throat. The crowd went silent. Andrew was six years old, standing in a field in Pennsylvania, listening to Abraham Lincoln speak. He was alone, scared, and 105 years before he was born. Then Andrew saw something to his left, a flash. Andrew panicked a little. He was trained to avoid this.

Someone had taken his picture. The project moved faster after Andrew's success. DARPA immediately began recruiting more children. They worked through defense contractors and military families, looking for kids with specific traits. High intelligence, obviously. Physical resilience to handle the stress. But most importantly, the children needed minds that could handle...

Temporal flexibility. I wish my bookie would have some temporal flexibility on the 2Gs I own. I lost the bundle on the ponies. I told you to stop gambling. The filly's name was Hump and Run. At 15 to 1, I had no choice. Hump and Run? How'd she do? I had no idea. After the clubhouse turn, she came really fast and I never saw her again. Okay.

Anyway, hundreds of kids were interviewed and tested. For a secret time travel program? And what responsible parent is going to sign their kid up to play pin the tail on a T-Rex? Well, they were told their child had been selected for a special program for gifted students. The children began intense testing and training.

Physical conditioning came first, then meditation techniques to help them stay grounded across different timelines. Some kids couldn't handle it. They were quietly returned to their families with the cover story that they just weren't the right fit. Out of thousands of recruits, only 140 children made it through training. They became known as chrononauts.

They were divided into teams based on age and ability. Each team specialized in a different time period. They memorized layouts of ancient cities. They learned to recognize clothing styles, practiced blending into crowds from different eras. Now, this wasn't school. It was a covert operation. And for especially dangerous missions, children were even given cyanide capsules. Eh, that's one way to solve the student loan crisis. Ugh.

Andrew made multiple trips to Gettysburg. On his fourth mission, something strange happened. He was watching Lincoln from his usual spot when he noticed another boy. Same uniform, same oversized shoes, same face. He was looking at himself, a younger version from an earlier trip.

During training, they warned about this. Two versions of the same person existing in the same moment. They said to avoid contact, but never explain why. When the two Andrews locked eyes, he understood. The younger one looked terrified. The older Andrew felt his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. He remembered being in that exact spot, seeing his older self, feeling that same fear. In that moment, reality felt fragile. Andrews'

Andrew just couldn't explain it, but he could sense that the world was just somehow wrong. Other chrononauts reported similar experiences. A girl named Sarah met three versions of herself at Pearl Harbor. Mark, an older boy, watched himself die at Antietam. But a new Mark was able to change the past, survive, and complete his mission.

Some children claimed they'd witnessed events that never happened, or hadn't happened yet. Different versions of history where different choices led to different outcomes. Tesla's technology hadn't just unlocked time travel, it gave access to the multiverse. -Doppa, open the multiverse! -Yep. Well, now we know who to blame for ruining the MCU.

By 1980, Project Pegasus achieved something new. They learned to bend space as well as time. The children who'd proven themselves on Earth would now be sent somewhere else, somewhere 140 million miles away. The chrononauts were going to Mars.

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The multiverse discovery changed everything. Project Pegasus had started as a time travel program. By 1980, they'd learned something new. Tesla's machines that bent time could also bend space, including outer space. Project Pegasus was getting an upgrade.

This new phase was a joint venture. The primary contractor was the Ralph M. Parsons Company, where Andrew's father worked. But they also had engineers from Lockheed Skunk Works and Hughes Aircraft. And, of course, the CIA. This team of elite researchers had built the most sophisticated machine on Earth. They called it the Jump Room. Hi, always.

always get one of those for my guppies birthday parties a lot of fun a jump room oh yeah it's a big inflatable castle and the rugrats hop around in there yeah cracking skulls until summer starts crying no no no you're thinking of little monsters get aggressive in these bouncy castles it's like thunderdome if uh if thunderdome was made of inflatable rubber and uh and tina turner was made out of

Ah, well, psycho moms with inflatable lip injections. This has nothing to do with a bouncy castle. Would you let me get back to this?

The Tesla Portal facility in New Jersey was retired. The new facility was hidden in plain sight at 999 North Sepulveda Boulevard in El Segundo, California. Just another office building in the aerospace corridor. Normal lobby, normal waiting area, except for the elevator. Press a sequence of buttons and the walls would dissolve. Then you'd be somewhere else. Somewhere very, very far away.

Andrew Baciago was 19 when he made his first Mars jump. The training had been different this time. Three weeks at College of the Siskiyous near Mount Shasta. Mount what? Oh wait, wrong mount. Go on. Major Ed Dames ran the program. Not time travel training, survival training. They learned about thin atmospheres, extreme temperatures, and how to use the weapon they were issued. A handheld device with three settings. Stun, heat, and kill.

The instructors were blunt about the dangers. Of the 97,000 people sent to Mars over the years, only 7,000 lived longer than five years. Those were not good odds. Andrew remembered taking his first steps on the alien planet. Mars isn't the barren, lifeless world NASA shows us. In certain places, it had breathable air. And in those places...

There was life on Mars.

Andrew saw creatures that reminded him of plesiosaurs, dinosaurs with long necks and powerful bodies. He was surprised at how graceful they moved. He saw huge spider-like creatures. They kept their distance, which was just fine to Andrew. Imagine tarantulas about the size of a car, but can move twice as fast. Now Ziggy play guitar, jamming good with Will and Gilly.

And the spider's from Mars. You are killing me, dude. I'm sorry. I thought you were setting me up for another Bowie, too. Okay, whenever you assume that... Yeah? Assume you're wrong.

There weren't just animals on Mars. There were people. Tall, thin beings with large heads and black eyes. The mission was to beat the Soviets to Mars and establish contact with this advanced civilization. And Andrew wasn't going alone. The Mars program recruited young people who'd proven themselves in the time travel experiments.

One member of Andrew's team introduced himself as Barry Satoro. Barry was a lanky college student from Columbia University. Friendly guy, articulate, easy smile. Years later, the world would know him by a different name, Barack Obama. Wait, wait, wait, what? Barack Obama was a Martian crying a naught? Yep. Wasn't Obama also invited to the Bilderberg before he was president? He sure was. Yeah, the lizard people picked their candidates early.

Obama being part of the program might sound unbelievable, but two other chrononauts came forward, William Stillings and Bernard Mendez. Independently, they confirmed everything, the training, the jump room, the alien species, and they both said Barack, or Barry, was there.

But the most shocking confirmation wouldn't come from witnesses or documents. It was broadcast live to millions of people by a late-night radio host. Well, not a late-night radio host. The late-night radio host. The confirmation from other alleged chrononauts was compelling. But the most shocking validation of Basiago's story didn't come from a fellow participant. It was broadcast live to millions of people.

From the high desert and the great American Southwest, I bid you all good evening, good morning, good afternoon, whatever the case may be, wherever in the world you are, every single time zone covered by this program, Midnight in the Desert. I'm Art Bell.

For decades, Art Bell was the king of paranormal radio. From his home studio in Pahrump, Nevada, or as he called it, the high desert, Art Bell had an audience of millions. And I was one of those millions. Art was known for being open-minded. No idea was too strange for him. But he never ridiculed his guests and he never talked down to his audience. And I take the same approach with the Y-Files.

But Art was also a sharp interviewer. If someone was clearly lying, Art would call it out and ask for proof. If someone made a wild claim, Art demanded an explanation. But most of all, Art Bell was a master storyteller. And so was Andrew Basiago. Basiago made several appearances on Art's shows over the years, but one stood out.

Today, Andy is waging a truth campaign to reveal his experiences in these programs so humanity can understand the true extent of technical development on our planet and the true history of our activities in outer space.

Basiago announced that he had a quantum bombshell for Art. They agreed to save it for the end. You know, storytelling. Art and Andrew talked for hours about Project Pegasus. Then Basiago recalled a minor detail from one of his training exercises. Having spent 15 years waiting to tell you, and here it is.

On November 5th of 1971, we participated in an advanced chronovisor probe from ITT Defense Communications in Nutley, New Jersey.

The broadcast went silent. Not dead air. Stunned silence. When Art spoke again, his voice had changed. The confident host was gone. I encountered you when I was in Project Pegasus, and I've been waiting 15 years to tell you. Well, I'll tell the audience, and I don't think I've really told anybody that I know of except some close friends a long time ago. I worked for ITT in Nutley, New Jersey.

I was a technician and I was checking waveguide for a government project, rather secret government project, actually. So that's the truth. It was a spontaneous, unprompted confirmation of a key, obscure detail in Basiago's story. Art was floored. You can hear him trying to reconcile the impossibility of what he was hearing. I indeed worked for ITT in Nutley, New Jersey, so...

Oh, my God. I just. OK, that's a bomb. That's a bombshell. OK. Yeah, I'm going to break it here because how the hell could he know that?

For listeners, this was a mind-blowing moment. A respected host had just become a witness. It suggested that Basiago had access to very specific information, classified or otherwise. But he had more than just anecdotes. Andrews said that during one of his trips to Gettysburg, a photographer was there. But there were no known photos of Lincoln at Gettysburg. Or so he thought.

For 90 years, historians searched for photograph of Abraham Lincoln at Gettysburg. They knew photographers were there. They knew the equipment existed. But no confirmed image of Lincoln giving his most famous speech had ever been found.

In 1952, archivist Josephine Cobb was examining Civil War glass plate negatives at the National Archives. She studied each plate under magnification, looking for details others might have missed. One plate caught her attention. It showed a crowd in an open field. Soldiers, civilians, a wooden platform in the distance. The scene matched descriptions of Gettysburg, November 19, 1863. But where was Lincoln?

Cobb increased the magnification. There, barely visible on the platform, Abraham Lincoln, the first confirmed photographic evidence of Lincoln at Gettysburg. The discovery made headlines, and for decades this would remain the only known photograph of that historic day. The image went to the National Archives, another piece of American history preserved.

But Josephine Cobb noticed something else in the photograph, something odd. In the foreground stood a young boy, maybe six or seven years old, wearing a Union Bugle Boy uniform. Now, that wasn't unusual. Many children wore military-style clothing during the Civil War. Drummer boys and bugle boys were common at public gatherings. What was unusual was that the boy was alone. No adult supervision, no other children nearby. Just a small figure standing by himself in the crowd.

The uniform looked authentic. Brass buttons, military cap, everything period correct. Except for one detail, the boy's haircut. Even in the grainy photograph, it looked wrong for 1863. Too modern, like something you'd see in the 1970s. And then there were the shoes. The boy was wearing adult shoes. Brown leather shoes, clearly too big for his feet. The kind that would fall off if he tried to run.

The photograph raised questions that wouldn't be answered for decades. Who was this boy and why was he alone? Why did he look out of place in a photograph where everyone else belonged? The photograph exists. You could see it for yourself. Abraham Lincoln, surrounded by citizens and soldiers, could be seen in the background. But in the foreground, wearing an itchy blue uniform and oversized shoes, is six-year-old Andrew Basciago.

The story of Andrew Basiago is compelling. He's intelligent, articulate. He knows how to tell a story.

Is it true? Oh, no. Well, some of it is. The government did confiscate Tesla's files after his death in 1943. That's documented. Were some of his files kept secret? Probably. The FBI still has classified Tesla documents they won't release. We know the government has attempted remote viewing through time. Joe McMoneagle, one of the military's top remote viewers, claims he saw ancient civilizations on Mars that was part of the official Stargate program.

We also know the U.S. military and CIA have experimented on children. MKUltra did it. Multiple programs tested drugs, psychology, and worse on kids without consent. And if you want to get really angry, watch our episode on the dark side of DARPA. Link down in your wormhole. But that's where the provable facts end. Now I hate this part.

The science doesn't work. Tesla's radiant energy was about wireless power transmission, not teleportation. Yeah, but he teleported Wolverine a bunch of times during that magic show. You're talking about the movie The Prestige. Right. And who played Tesla in that movie? David Bowie. Right. And who played life on Mars? David Bowie. I rest my case. So...

Yes, scientists have teleported quantum states of particles. But teleporting a person? That would require more energy than an exploding star, even if they could figure out how to do it. Basiago says they just plug the machine into the wall. Now, I don't know of any wire that can carry that kind of juice. Maybe some heavy-duty black market Romex. Don't tell the local 164. Local 164? Bergen County knows what I'm talking about.

Another problem. Every time we do a time travel story, they never mention that the Earth, the solar system, the galaxy, they're all constantly moving. If you time travel five seconds, you'll be in the middle of space. Nobody ever accounts for this. Nobody except... Nobody except Mike Madman Markham. He factored this into his calculations. That's why his time travel story is probably my favorite. Link down.

Oh yeah, the terminology doesn't make sense. Vortal isn't a word. He combined vortex and portal because it sounds cool. In terms like quantum displacement and quantum holographic destabilization, these are just physics words strung together. They don't mean anything.

The chronovisor is another red flag. You've got chrono, which means time, and you've got visor, which means vision. So this is a device that allows you to see through time. The original idea for the chronovisor came from a Benedictine monk by the name of Pellegrino Ernetti. He used to watch ancient Roman plays, the crucifixion of Christ, speeches by Mussolini. That priest must have a weird Netflix feed.

Well, according to the legend, the chronovisor is hidden in the secret Vatican archives. I did a whole episode on this and it's a lot of fun. Now, I didn't debunk the chronovisor, but I did prove Father Ernetti was lying. Then there are all the timeline problems. Basiago says Donald Rumsfeld ran the project from 1969 to 1972. But Rumsfeld was working on domestic policy then, nowhere near DARPA, and that's documented.

The Art Bell confirmation seemed stunning until he realized Art mentioned working at ITT Nutley in his 1998 autobiography, so it was public information.

And Basiago's story has changed over the years. The year of his recruitment, the number of trips to Gettysburg, the number of children, the years of the Mars jumps, and all kinds of other dates. And speaking of Mars, that part of the story is a mess. In 2008, Andrew Basiago published The Discovery of Life on Mars. There's a life on Mars. That's enough Bowie for one show. Never enough Bowie.

Anyway, he published the paper claiming to discover life on Mars by analyzing NASA photos. He said he saw humanoids, animals, and structures. But he never mentioned he'd been there himself. Why analyze blurry photos if you've walked on Mars? He only added the jump room story years later. Oh, so he probably didn't blow up his insular barrier. Probably not.

Like almost everyone who claims they were part of a secret space program, Baxiago's story follows a pattern. They all say they were in multiple programs. They all fought aliens, traveled through time, and then got sent back to their childhood bodies. And whenever someone challenges the details, there's always the same answer. Their memories were suppressed, but now they're slowly coming back. And these storytellers share something else. They turn their stories into income. Why couldn't someone else talk?

about their experience in the secret space program. As long as they don't talk about the stuff that I created based on my real IP here, and it says I created a lot of this stuff. I created

Dark Fleet. Dark Fleet didn't exist before I talked about it. Now all these people are popping up, "I was on Dark Fleet, I was on Dark Fleet." - Paid speaking events, weekend seminars, podcasts, appearances, and of course, books. - There's always a book. - There's always a book. Yet millions of people believe these stories. Intelligent people. Why? Well, because time travel represents something we all desperately want, a second chance.

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We all have regrets, things we'd change if we could, mistakes we'd undo, words we'd take back, people we'd save. Time travel stories give us hope that somewhere, somehow, there's a loophole in the rules of the universe. I'd give anything for that loophole, to go back and fix my mistakes, to say goodbye to people I never got the chance to, to tell them I love them just one more time. But I can't. None of us can't.

And regret is a powerful emotion. But regrets are just memories. They live in the past. By focusing on the past, regrets rob you of the joy you could be feeling right now. Regrets can rob you of the joy you deserve to have in the future. You don't need to fix the past. Just accept it, learn from it, and let it go.

Your second chance isn't in some secret government program. It's not hidden in a classified file or a stolen Tesla blueprint. Your second chance starts the second you stop looking backward and start looking forward. The time machine you're looking for, you're living it. It's called today. And unlike Andrew Basciago's story, yours is real.

Thank you so much for hanging out with me today. My name is AJ. You're Cyclefish. Yeah, I like chicken, sexy bacon. This has been the Y-Files. If you had fun or learned anything, do him a favor, subscribe, comment, like, share. That stuff really helps the channel. And like most topics we cover on the channel, today's is recommended by you, by lots of you. And we only covered a fraction of the story. So if you want to see more of this or a different one, go to the Y-Files.com slash tips and let me know. Remember,

Remember, The Y Files is also a podcast. Twice a week, I post, more than twice a week now, I post deep dives into the stories we cover here on the channel. I also post episodes that wouldn't be allowed on the channel. It's called The Y Files Operation Podcast, and it's available everywhere you get your podcasts, even here on YouTube. Now, if you need more Y Files in your life, check out our Discord.

There are, I think we crossed 75,000 members recently. So there's always someone on there 24 seven. They're talking about the same weird stuff we do here. It's a great community, really supportive. It's a lot of fun and it's free to join. And

And if you want to know what's going on with The Y Files at any given time, you can check out our production calendar. It's at theyfiles.com slash cal. There we post our episode schedule, upcoming podcasts, live streams, all that stuff. Special thanks to our patrons who make this channel possible. Every episode of The Y Files is dedicated to our Patreon members. I could not do this without you. And if you'd like to support the channel and keep us going, become a member on Patreon. For as little as three bucks a month, you get access to perks like videos early with no commercials,

access to merch only available to members. Plus you get two private live streams, at least two private live streams every week just for you. And the whole Y-Files team is on the stream and you can turn your webcam on, jump up on stage, ask a question, talk about anything you want. It's a great way to get to know us as people. Another great way to support the channel is grab something from the Y-Files store. Grab yourself a hang of this t-shirt.

Oh, I don't need a specific coffee mug. I think you can stick your Martian fin in on your fist. Or appendage or whatever you got hanging off your body there. Or torso. I don't know what it's called. Or do it with a whole dinner hoodie. Or something like face on it. Okay?

But if you're gonna buy merch, make sure you become a member on YouTube. It's only three bucks and you get 10% off everything in the Wifi store forever. So if you're gonna spend $40 on t-shirts, become a member, get the code, and it pays for itself.

And look, if you want to cancel after one month, that's fine. The membership is there to save you money, not make me money. Besides, all the money from memberships goes to the team. Yeah, well, you keep that under your tinfoil hat. You're cutting into my margins. Those are the plugs. That's going to do it. Until next time, be safe, be kind, and know that you are appreciated. Oh, oh.

No, it never ends.

I fear the crab cat and got stuck inside Mel's home with MKUltra being only too aware. Did Stanley Kubrick fake the moon landing alone on a film set? Were the shadow people there? The Roswell aliens just fought the smiling man. I'm told.

And his name was cold And I can't believe I'm dancing with the fishes Had to fish on Thursday nights with AJ too And the wild boars have been eating all through the night All I ever wanted was to just hear the truth To the warmth of the night

The Mothman's sirens and the solar storm still come to Uganda, the secret city underground. Mysterious number stations, planets are bold to project escape and where the dark watchers found.

We're in a simulation, don't you worry though The black knight said a lot, he told me so I can't believe I'm dancing with the fish And the fish are Thursday nights with their J2 And the white balls are my feet all through the night If you ever wondered what you just hear the truth So the white balls are my feet all through the night

And the wildfire's out to beat all the night. All I ever wanted was to just hear the truth. So the wildfire's out to beat all to good.

♪ Gertie loves to dance ♪ ♪ Gertie loves to dance ♪ ♪ Gertie loves to dance ♪ ♪ Gertie loves to dance ♪ ♪ Gertie loves to dance ♪ ♪ Gertie loves to dance ♪ ♪ Gertie loves to dance ♪ ♪ Gertie loves to dance on the dance floor ♪ ♪ Because she is a camel ♪ ♪ And camels love this when the feeling ♪ ♪ Is right on wasting time ♪

Good luck.