MIssing 411 Remote Viewing Project

Kevin Wikse stands unflinching as the San Andreas Fault tears open, the Pacific reclaiming the West. Hell’s Aquarium returns. The cigar stays lit. As we hurtle headlong—white-knuckled, teeth clenched, and screaming at terminal velocity—toward the Magnetic Pole Shift Global Cataclysm, and brace ourselves for the transcendent joy of our returning Anunnaki overlords, 2026 shapes up to be a genuinely strut-snapping, nerve-grinding speed bump in the road of history, rattling humanity to its very core.  The mentally weak, the already unhinged, will be pushed clean over the edge, clawing wildly at anything within reach, fully prepared to drag the rest of us off the cliff with them rather than face the fall alone. Through my remote viewing and psychic transmissions, I am warned that 2026 carries with it a terrible power of division—not merely social or political, but geological, temporal, and existential. A year that tears asunder not only human relationships and the Earth’s crust, but th...