The cabin lights strobed red as the alarms continued their shrill warning, a mechanical shriek overlaying the groaning hull. The jet shook again, harder this time, pitching downward with growing urgency.
My breath had already steadied. My vision was razor sharp. My limbs light. Every fiber of my body moved in concert, no hesitation, no delay. My Full Profession Sync was active, and I was no longer just reacting.
I was executing.
From the moment I turned from the cockpit, the layout of the jet unfolded in my mind like a digital schematic. Observation, Thermal Perception, and Blueprint and Schematic Reading lit up in perfect tandem. I could see the stress fractures forming under the inner paneling. I could smell the faint chemical heat of the engine oil boiling through the fuselage. My brain was calculating an internal temperature graph in real time. The failure rate was exponential.
