The cabin was a symphony of prayers and weeping. Luca reached out and grabbed the hand of the elderly man across the aisle. They didn't know each other’s names, but they held on as the blue water rose up to meet the windows.
The plane hit the water not with a splash, but with the force of a concrete wall. The tail snapped. The cabin flooded with the smell of salt and jet fuel. The Aftermath Emergency Declaration - Prendi il tuo posto
Luca, a cynical journalist in 4C, found himself staring into the eyes of Sofia, a flight attendant who had been serving him wine moments ago. Her professional mask had slipped. She wasn't just telling him to buckle up; she was bracing herself against his seat handle, her knuckles white. The cabin was a symphony of prayers and weeping
he whispered, almost to himself. It wasn't just a command for the passengers; it was a reminder to himself. He had to be the pilot now, more than he had ever been in thirty years of flying. The Impact The plane hit the water not with a
