The fog clung heavy to San Francisco in the summer of 1969, a silent accomplice to the darkness festering within its heart. Beneath the Golden Gate's iconic gaze, a city pulsed with a different kind of thrill, one laced with fear and morbid curiosity. A phantom had emerged, a specter dubbed the "Zodiac," his name etched in blood across the city's underbelly.
His reign began not with a scream, but with a whisper. A coded message, a twisted puzzle box of symbols and letters, slithered into the offices of three newspapers. The Zodiac's demands were simple, yet chilling: publish it, or more blood would stain the streets.
The message, a monstrous 408 symbols long, defied comprehension. It mocked the city's finest minds, a challenge flung at the feet of seasoned cryptographers and FBI agents alike. Days bled into weeks, then months, the cipher a cruel monument to the Zodiac's audacity.