Apocalyptic Dragon Riders

Chapter 16

Most of the passengers around were still half-asleep, completely unaware of what was happening. Those who were awake only looked up briefly before going back to their books or whatever they were doing — turbulence like this was simply too common during flights. Even in clear-air turbulence, the plane’s wings could visibly shake, but that didn’t necessarily mean danger. The passengers could only put their full trust in the cabin crew.

Even as the fuselage shook, the flight attendants remained calm and steady as if they had been through this countless times before. Their professional training taught them how to stay composed in emergencies, which in turn was the best way to keep the passengers from panicking.

No one expected that, during one particularly violent jolt, the cabin would suddenly seem to lose gravity. The entire plane dropped sharply, and the sudden weightless sensation made every passenger — men, women, children — scream out in unison. Anything not strapped down floated into the air, then came crashing back down as gravity seemed to return, sending glasses, drinks, books, and snacks scattering and causing a brief burst of chaos.

“This aircraft is passing through an area of severe turbulence. Please fasten your seat belts and stow any sharp objects or carry-on luggage,” came the calm, gentle voice of a flight attendant over the PA system. Though she had clearly been just as startled as everyone else, her professionalism and training allowed her to speak with a composure that reassured the passengers — at least a little.

Lin Mo, however, had completely put down his book. He had no intention of reading any further. He could clearly tell that, in that brief moment of weightlessness, the plane had dropped at least two hundred meters according to this world’s measurement standards. For an airborne cavalry unit, such a descent would have been nothing. But for a civilian aircraft, this was anything but normal.

Before the passengers had a chance to calm down, the aircraft began to shake violently again, the fuselage bobbing up and down with much larger drops — and at an even faster rate of descent. Screams erupted from all over the cabin, off-key and panicked. Even the flight attendants’ faces went pale as they grabbed onto fixed objects with both hands, strapping themselves in as tightly as possible so they wouldn’t be thrown against the ceiling. Anything that hadn’t been stowed away — handbags, iPads, phones, books — became airborne projectiles, striking passengers and leaving bruises and bloody noses.

The flight attendant who had been speaking into the microphone dropped it and urgently tried calling the cockpit on the intercom. She called over and over, but there was no response. Normally, in a situation like this, the captain or first officer would immediately make an announcement to stabilize the passengers’ emotions.

The first-class passengers seated near the nose of the plane were mostly business elites — people more observant and sensitive than the average traveler. When they saw the flight attendant’s expression change from professional calm to subtle panic, they exchanged worried glances, and someone finally shouted to demand what was going on.

The flight attendant ignored the questions and instead peered through the cockpit door’s viewing window. One glance was enough to make her go pale with shock. She quickly opened a hidden panel in the bulkhead, retrieved a key, and inserted it into the cockpit door’s lock. The moment she cracked it open, a blast of air rushed out along with several floating feathers. The wind was so strong it blasted all the way back to the economy cabin.

A deafening roar filled the plane. It was like a storm raging inside the cabin, making it hard for anyone to breathe. The oxygen masks dropped automatically from the overhead compartments, dangling in front of every seat. The flight attendants, pale-faced and clutching their chests just like the passengers, strapped themselves into their emergency harnesses according to procedure.

The entire airframe shuddered even harder, the keel groaning as though it might snap at any moment. At this point, even the most clueless passengers knew something had gone terribly wrong. Panic and wailing broke out across the cabin, louder even than the roaring wind.

Bang! The flight attendant finally slammed the cockpit door shut with all her strength, cutting off the gale. The wind stopped instantly, but the cabin was already a complete mess. The fuselage continued to tremble as if it might break apart at any second.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m very sorry! A bird may have struck the cockpit, injuring the pilots. Please remain calm! Please stay calm!” The lead flight attendant’s voice trembled despite her best efforts. Her face was no longer pale but ashen-gray, almost sickly. Although the plane was still on autopilot and had likely already sent an emergency signal to air traffic control, they were still cruising at over thirty thousand feet. If they descended into the turbulent lower atmosphere, the situation might require manual piloting — something the onboard computer couldn’t fully handle. At that altitude, the smallest mistake could mean total destruction.

Now everyone understood — the plane was out of control.

The lead flight attendant had to shout “Please stay calm!” several times before the passengers’ hysterical panic died down enough for her to continue.

“We need to do three things right now!” she said, her voice quick and slightly strained, the cabin already showing signs of depressurization. Some passengers were starting to feel the early effects of altitude sickness.

“First — everyone must put on their oxygen mask, tighten your seat belt, and stay seated from now on. If you wear glasses, take them off. Breathe through your mouth and swallow frequently.” The other flight attendants, still doing their duty despite stumbling and staggering, moved through the cabin to make sure the instructions were carried out. These weren’t requests — they were orders. At this moment, the lead flight attendant was the highest authority on the plane.

“Second — you will each be given a pen and a piece of paper. Please write down anything you want to say. We will collect these and store them in the secure box.”

The moment she said this, muffled sobs broke out across the cabin. A few children began wailing loudly. Everyone knew what this meant — at ten thousand meters up, any accident would almost certainly be fatal. This was the equivalent of telling everyone to write their last words.

The short pens and sheets of paper were passed out row by row. Every passenger who received them took them silently. Some covered their mouths to suppress their sobs as they wrote. Faced with death, everyone became solemn.

“Third — I need volunteers. Anyone with piloting experience and a strong enough body — please stand up!”

Her words were like a tiny beam of light piercing the darkness — a sliver of hope. The sound of scribbling stopped all at once. Everyone turned to look around, praying that someone — anyone — had at least some flying experience. Even a flight simulator hobbyist would do.

A few passengers half-rose from their seats, thinking about taking a chance, but quickly sat back down as they realized how reckless it would be to gamble with everyone’s lives. Without any real training, barging into the cockpit was no different from dancing on a knife’s edge — and that was assuming they could even withstand the fierce wind inside. No wonder the flight attendant had said they needed to be strong. If they messed up, the result would almost certainly be total catastrophe.

Then, in the silence that had become almost unbearable, a young man’s voice spoke up.

“I’ll give it a try.”

Click. The sound of a seatbelt unbuckling. A man in his early twenties stood up in the economy cabin.

“You? Can you really do it?” The middle-aged man seated next to him, who had already given up hope, looked at him in astonishment. Just moments earlier, this young man had been reading a junior high school physics textbook — hardly the background you’d expect from someone who could fly a plane.

Everyone’s eyes turned toward the young man. Their faces were full of the same mix of despair and fragile hope, silently asking the same question.

“I don’t think it will be too hard,” the young man said with a faint smile. His expression was completely different from everyone else’s — no fear, no panic, only confidence and calm.

“That’s great! We’re saved!” The cabin’s mood shifted as if spring sunlight had suddenly broken through storm clouds. Whether true or not, the passengers finally had something to hope for. They assumed this young man had at least some piloting experience — but they couldn’t have guessed that the “experience” he spoke of was of a very different kind.

At this point, they had no choice but to let him try.

“Excuse me, what’s your name?” the lead flight attendant asked, her eyes full of desperate hope. To her, he looked like an angel sent to deliver them from disaster.

“Just call me Lin Mo.” The young man stepped into the aisle and began walking toward the cockpit. Despite the violent jolts of the plane, his stride was steady and sure, as if the turbulence didn’t affect him at all. The lead flight attendant’s eyes lit up — her confidence grew just a little.

As Lin Mo drew closer, the flight attendant spoke quickly but clearly:

“The cockpit glass was likely shattered by a bird strike. The air pressure is very low, and the wind is strong. When I open the door, you must rush inside as quickly as you can. Put on the oxygen mask immediately, then check on the captain and first officer. If they’re dead or unconscious, you’ll take their place in the cockpit. Sit in the pilot’s seat but don’t press anything yet. Put on the captain’s headset and follow the instructions from air traffic control. If they tell you to push a button, push it — and keep the control yoke steady. If you can’t hold on, tell me right away so I can find someone to replace you!”

Her explanation was careful and precise. In her mind, the captain and first officer were likely beyond saving. The odds were grim.