❝ 𝙞 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙩𝙚
𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 ❞
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇
╰┈➤ two ex-friends reunite under top-secret orders, igniting the catalyst for combustion with only two possible outcomes: lethal detonation or exp...
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╰┈➤ A DANCE WITH DESTINY
🏴☠️
The aviators gathered around the screen, their breath held in anticipation as the beeper resounded, signaling the commencement of the countdown. Maverick and Maple embarked on the low-level course, their heavy breathing and grunts echoing through the radio, a testament to the toll gravity exacted on their bodies.
"Are you still with me, Maple?" Maverick's voice crackled through the headset, concern lacing his words.
"Yes, sir, no need to worry about me," she affirmed, her flight graceful and strategic. In truth, without a backseater, she felt liberated, free to take risks without the weight of another life in her hands. The power of solely focusing on herself surged through her being.
As the timer ticked down, the reserve aviators sat on the edge of their seats, awestruck by the success Maverick and Maple had achieved thus far in the course.
"Popping in three, two, one," Maverick announced, pulling up on the stick, initiating a steep climb. Maple followed closely behind, her stomach churning as she realized she had flawlessly navigated the low-level course. Pride swelled within her heart, basking in her accomplishment. Flying in Maverick's wake gave her a renewed sense of purpose, an invincibility that coursed through her veins.
Flipping her plane upside down and then righting it again surged her adrenaline. They were on the verge of achieving the impossible.
With the target in sight, Maple tightened her grip on the laser, her knuckles turning white. This moment was crucial; she had to lock in the laser accurately for Maverick to hit his mark.
"Maple, where are you with the laser?" Maverick's voice rang out, his reliance on her palpable.
"Working on it!" she responded, her eyes fixated on the laser, her focus unwavering. "Almost there," she muttered through clenched teeth, nerves coursing through her. And then, with a wave of relief, "Target acquired!" She gave him the green light.
"Bombs away!" Maverick declared, releasing the missile and initiating the steep G climb that had nearly claimed Coyote's life days before.
Adrenaline rushed through Maple's central nervous system, preventing her from succumbing to unconsciousness as the weight of the world seemed to press down on her chest, compressing her lungs in agony. The force of gravity intensified with each passing second, the monitor crackling up from 7 to 7.5, 8, 9, 9.5, and finally reaching a staggering 10 Gs.
