Until the Stars Burn Out - Chapter One

Until the Stars Burn Out

Chapter One
Turbulence



The air sharp with the promise of fall, Lee Jong-suk, the venerable real estate magnate and chairman of the illustrious Eunjin Group, felt the weight of his 68 years. His odyssey had commenced decades earlier. A significant inheritance had beckoned him at eighteen—a modest rental building. Standing before this structure for the first time, Jong-suk sensed an electric charge crackling with potential, energy seeping into his veins.

He ventured into the realm of high-stakes negotiations, his voice echoing down the city’s concrete corridors, and conceived architectural wonders destined to redefine the city’s skylines.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, mingling with the subtle scent of polished stone. The early morning light danced on the surface, casting shimmering reflections that competed with the city’s awakening. Behind him, the living room whispered of understated luxury; the sleek lines of minimalist furniture in muted grays and whites spoke of modern elegance, while a single, striking piece of contemporary Korean art dominated the far wall, its bold colors vibrant against the monochrome palette. Jeong-suk’s eyes shifted from the glistening river to the towering skyscraper, typically a source of pride. Today’s perspective felt odd and hollow. The strength he once felt in these structures seemed remote, a faint echo obscured by an uneasy knot in his stomach.

His ex-wives, Soon-bok at fifty-five, her silhouette still commanded the room. Her lithe frame moved with a grace that concealed her age, each step measured and sure, an embodiment of timeless elegance that drew envious glances. At forty-five, Hei-ran, ever the optimist, trailed behind with a smile that lit up her features, casting warmth that softened her occasional lapses in judgment. Jeong-suk watched them with resentment and yearning, which he swiftly hid beneath his typical stoicism. He couldn’t help but recollect the early days when he and Soon-bok—were on the verge of a new life full of hope and ambition.

They moved fluidly, disguising the tension in the air as they sat on the stark white leather sofa, contrasting with their lively presence. Almost immediately, Hei-ran leaned forward, her demeanor sharpened by a clear signal of the significant news she was poised to reveal. Hei-ran’s words, when they came, sliced through the strained silence that had enveloped the room.

Jeong-suk’s eyebrow arched, his posture at ease yet tinged with a flicker of curiosity. “Both of you? Together?”

Always forthright, Soon-bok leaned in, her voice firm. “Because, Jeong-suk, you’ll care for the boys while we’re away. We arranged everything else.”

As Jeong-suk placed his cup down, a sliver of irritation crept into his tone. “You’re telling me, not asking. It feels more like a decree than a discussion.”

Matching his intensity, Soon-bok stood and edged closer, her gaze as sharp as winter frost, locking onto his. “Look, we both know you can handle this. You’ve built an empire; surely a week with your children isn’t beyond your capability.”

Jeong-suk’s brow knitted together. “This is how you tell me? On the day you leave?”

Soon-bok advanced her expression unflinching. “We discussed this six months ago.”

“At that time, you mentioned the end of the year!” Jeong-suk’s voice wavered as he glanced between the two women, his defiance crumbling under the weight of inevitability. “Fine, go. But remember, this isn’t over. We’re going to discuss this when you return.”

As the doors closed, Jeong-suk’s serene demeanor dissolved. His once firm hands trembled uncontrollably. He yelled and threw the nearest object—a precious Ming vase across the room. It broke against the marble fireplace, pieces cascading down like the last remnants of his faltering self-control. The destruction around him reflected the emotional chaos he worked so hard to contain. “Six months,” he spat at the void, his words resonating off the high ceilings—a one-sided debate with the ghosts of promises postponed.

One hour later, as the floral blooms defied the mid-50s chill outside, Seoul’s Incheon International Airport buzzed with life. Amid this choreographed mayhem, security agents stayed vigilant, their eyes fixated on monitors, ensuring the uninterrupted flow of passengers and luggage. Soon-bok and Hei-ran, accompanied by three suit-clad security guards, made their way toward Terminal 2’s check-in area. The bodyguards, pushing the women’s luggage, followed closely behind. Further back, a nanny cradled an infant, an image of serenity in the middle of chaos.

Their march towards the departure gates halted. Hei-ran’s steps faltered as she glanced back, catching sight of her young child nestled comfortably in the nanny’s embrace. Her heart clenched, a familiar sensation she tried to ignore whenever she had to leave him. She hurried over, kissing the infant's rosy cheeks, and gently stroked his tiny head.

The tender scene was cut short by Soon-bok’s firm hand on her shoulder, pulling her back.

“Take good care of my baby!” she called out.

The nanny smiled, lifting the child’s arm to wave goodbye. As the group moved forward, the nanny and baby remained behind.

Arriving at the automated check-in counter, Hei-ran fast entered their flight details, scanned their passports, and collected their tickets. The tall, heavy man with a clean-shaven head prodded his scowling partner. Their stern features faded into smiles as they traded humorous barbs, with camaraderie evident in their winks and mock salutes. However, the brotherhood was short-lived. Soon-bok’s severe expression cut through the fleeting levity like a knife, commanding quick silence. The laughter subsided, leaving only the hum of the airport around them.

Meanwhile, Hei-ran tightly gripped the travel documents, her joy hardly restrained as she hummed a tune.

“Something seems off for some reason,” Soon-bok mused, her brow furrowed.

Hei-ran leaned in to grasp this nugget of information. “Why? Isn’t everything taken care of?”

“Of course it is.” Soon-bok scanned the bustling crowd, and then turned back to Hei-ran. “I know we planned this, but something feels odd.”

“Because we lied about the timing?”

“Maybe. But I don’t usually feel guilty about lying to Jeong-suk.”

“Who said exes can’t get along?” Hei-ran quipped, running her hand along Soon-bok’s arm.

“What?” Soon-bok looked puzzled.

Hei-ran’s eyes twinkled with a mischievous gleam, and her smile spread to a grin that lit up her face. “Can you believe it?” she laughed, drawing in closer. “The two of us, together, heading to paradise of all places!”

Soon-bok’s lips curved into a scowl as she contemplated his decision. “Can you believe it?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m shocked he agreed at all.” Her eyes grew darker, and she drew closer to Hei-ran. “Then again, maybe he agreed because he can’t even remember saying yes.” She let the words hang in the air, her tone thick with contempt. With a cold laugh, she added, “I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised. After all, we don’t resemble his precious properties to be cataloged and valued.”

Hei-ran chuckled, wiping away the bitterness with a lighthearted laugh. “Well, we earned this vacation,” she explained, dimples deepening as she met Soon-bok’s gaze.

“Indeed, but away from the old goat!” Soon-bok exclaimed.

Pointing playfully at Soon-bok, Hei-ran grinned. “Yes, previous wife,” she gestured to herself, “and current ex-wife. Now, let’s stop at the lounge. I need a drink.”

“Perhaps, but look,” Soon-bok pointed, drawing Hei-ran’s attention to something ahead.

Capturing their gaze was a snaking queue in front of them. The airport security line seemed an insurmountable barrier.

Soon-bok turned to address the men behind them with an air of finality. “You three can go home; we’ve got the rest from here.”

The bodyguards responded with a subtle nod, their figures soon disappearing into the sea of travelers. Patience was not a virtue either possessed in abundance, and their progresses felt painfully slow.

A sudden buzz from her phone broke Soon-bok’s brooding thoughts. She retrieved it from her coat pocket, and the message on the screen instantly softened her expression. “Take a look at this,” she said, handing the device to Hei-ran.

The screen displayed a touching note: “Supermom, I love you; please come back soon.”

A warm smile brightened Hei-ran’s features. “What a devoted youngster.”

“The heavens blessed me only because of a villainous husband,” Soon-bok said, her tone a blend of wit and bitterness.

The women shared a knowing nod, united in their circumstances, and resumed their wait, each minute stretching out before them.

***
In the pilot’s lounge, a group of captains exchanged tales of the skies. Among them, Captain Oliver “Ollie” Turner, with his unruly curls and vibrant socks, had just approved his flight plan.

He passed it over with a grin, saying, “I hope you have a direct line to the weather gods today.”

***
Outside on the tarmac, the first officer weaved through the maintenance crew.

“Hey, where have you been?” one of the crewmen called out.

Beaming with pride, the first officer responded, “The wife just had a son!”

“Congratulations!” exclaimed another crewman, his grin infectious. “Looks like this baby came in a bit behind schedule, already serviced,” he said, eliciting giggles and surprised looks.

Meanwhile, an aircrew wearing bright safety vests at the rear of the Boeing 777 where cargo was being loaded with great care. The crew cautiously handled the animal containers, mindful of the precious life inside. Each crate displayed the animals' destinations and names. The handlers spoke softly to the nervous pets, delivering soothing words as they carefully lifted the crates and deposited them in the temperature-controlled part of the cargo hold.

The last to be loaded was Echo, an African Grey parrot. As a worker cautiously lifted Echo's cage into the cargo hold, she fluffed her feathers and squawked, “First class, please!”

The crew members exchanged amusing glances and chuckled at the parrot’s unusual request.

Another worker smiled and said, “Sorry, no upgrades available today, ma’am!”

Echo tilted her head and squawked, “Ridiculous!”

The group laughed, surprised by the parrot’s appropriate response.

Echo watched the proceedings with wide, curious eyes. As each container was locked, the crew double-checked the locks and ensured the animals were comfortable.

The maintenance crew gathering was winding down, as a fourth crewman said, “We’ll have to make time for drinks.”

“You bet.” Glancing at his watch, the first officer, buoyed by high spirits, headed toward the plane. He skimmed through his checklist.

However, the aircraft’s maintenance records told a sobering tale of stress on the tail joints—a condition last noted by the previous pilots, who had reported minor turbulence, instrument interference, and brief flickering of lights on the last two flights. Despite these alarming indicators, the maintenance crew had rushed to sign off on the aircraft, motivated by tight timetables and the need to keep flights on time.

***

Hei-ran glanced at her watch as they waited in line and groaned, “It’s been 45 minutes.” Her gaze swept across the sea of travelers, and she exchanged a whispered sigh with a fellow traveler nearby.

Fidgeting, Hei-ran began rubbing her legs and then alternately stretching them. “We should have worn flats instead of these heels,” she muttered.

Soon-bok ignored her and stayed silent.

Finally reaching the front of the line, Hei-ran hurried forward. Her petite frame strained in uncomfortable shoes, she tiptoed awkwardly to the body scanner, spinning, and exited with a flourish as if leaving a stage. Laughing, security officers exchanged knowing glances.

Soon-bok, pretending not to know her flamboyant companion, placed her bag in the bin and made her way to the scanner. The machine beeped as she stepped through. The guard signaled for her to try again. Soon-bok reentered, only to set the alarm again.

While gathering her belongings, Hei-ran couldn’t help but smile. “What? Did you bring the bomb?” She teased, her tone light and fun.

The busy security line froze. Silence fell as all eyes went to Hei-ran, the weight of their glances suddenly falling on her shoulders.

Her smile wavered. “I’m kidding,” she replied hastily, her heart thumping. “It was just a joke.”

The crowd responded with stern glares.

Soon-bok quickly intervened, holding up a set of keys. “Look, I forgot these were in my pocket.” Seeing everyone remained focused on her companion, she added, “I’m also wearing an underwire if that helps.”

The staff resumed their duties. A female security guard approached, gesturing Soon-bok to step out of the scanner, and swept a detection wand over her. Soon cleared, Soon-bok retrieved her belongings from the bin, muttering, “I must have lost my mind.”

As she regrouped with Hei-Ran, her voice coated with admonishment. “What were you thinking?” she scolded as she passed by. “That was not one bit funny.”

“I know, I know,” Hei-ran rambled, her breath quickening as she fought to catch up. “I'm sorry. Okay? I pledge to make it up to you.” Her voice quivered, revealing the guilt gnawing at her.

Soon-bok’s patience was wearing thin. She shook her head, her voice clipped and fierce. “Hurry up, or we will miss our flight. Thanks to your performance,” she hissed, irritation oozing through her words.

Hei-ran cringed at the roughness, the sting of Soon-bok’s scolding sinking into her breast. “So that’s a no to the lounge?” she said, a feeble smile developing as she searched for a glimmer of forgiveness.

Soon-bok looked at Hei-ran, her lips squeezed in a thin line. For a minute, it appeared like she might lash out again, but instead, she sighed, the fight leaving her. “Just get to the gate,” she mumbled, her voice still slightly irritated but with a hint of weary surrender. “We’ll see about the lounge later.”

They rushed to gate twenty-nine, bypassing the lounge, only to discover passengers lounging calmly in their seats. Soon-bok approached a nearby gentleman.

“Have you been waiting long?” she inquired.

He glanced at his wristwatch. “About twenty minutes; there was a slight delay. It shouldn’t be much longer,” he responded with a casual shrug.

She nodded, settling next to Hei-Ran, who was digging through her purse.

“Sister, why didn’t we travel by ship?” Hei-ran asked, half-joking.

Soon-bok scoffed, sweeping her gaze across the floor, “With the time it would take, a snail would’ve run faster.”

“Could’ve been more entertaining, though,” Hei-ran mused regretfully. “Imagine us drifting across the ocean, no schedules to worry about…”

Soon-bok’s fingers began to rub together. “I can’t swim, sister. Did you not hear about all the maritime catastrophes?”

“How could such happen? You were born with great fortune!” Hei-ran exclaimed, her surprise evident.

In response, Soon-bok removed her coat, fanning her face and tugging at her blouse in apparent discomfort.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just a bit warm,” Soon-bok said, her discomfort growing.

“Warm?” Hei-ran looked around the air-conditioned terminal. “What are you talking about? It’s fairly cool in here.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the cheerful ‘now boarding’ announcement over the PA system, bringing smiles to the faces of waiting passengers. They quickly gathered their belongings and joined the queue. Travelers flashed their tickets one by one, their regular motions laced with anticipation for the flight ahead. Korean Airlines Flight 841 was all set for its journey to Daniel K. Inouye International Airport in Honolulu, promising a respite from the tensions at the gate.

After securing their seats in first class, the ex-wives immersed themselves in tourist brochures, discussing and planning out each detail of their upcoming vacation adventures.

Meanwhile, the ambiance in coach was tranquil. The slight murmur of talk mixed with the mild hum of the plane’s engines, resulting in a stillness that encouraged relaxation. An older couple held hands, a visible sign of comfort between them. The woman’s wide-eyed expression revealed it was her first time in the air. Encouraged by his reassuring wink, she managed a tentative smile, her anxiety somewhat eased.

The engines screamed to life as the plane taxied down the runway, forcing passengers back into their seats as it lifted off. The ascent seemed effortless, with the city below gradually diminishing to a jumble of lights and shadows. The initial nervousness in the cabin subsided as the plane leveled off at its cruising altitude, and a pleasant routine took over.

One hour into the flight, the flight attendants, now wearing aprons, gracefully navigated the aisles. They offered snacks and refreshments to eager passengers, creating quiet activity throughout the cabin. Just as the service routine settled into a rhythm, the plane began to shake, sending a ripple of concern through the previously calm atmosphere.

The passengers noticed a slight tremor vibrating in the chairs, which was getting worse by the second. A glass of water shook on a tray table, the liquid trembling as though it sensed the approaching mayhem.

Strong tremors rocked the aircraft at a dizzying altitude of 42,000 feet, prompting the flight attendants to secure their service carts. A sudden, unexpected descent intensified the situation, sending a wave of qualm through the cabin. Passengers clutched their armrests, their faces taut with concern. Several closed their eyes, trying to shield themselves from the reality of their fear.

Hei-ran’s knuckles paled against the leather as her fists gripped the armrests tightly. “Sister, what’s going on?” Her voice was hardly audible above a whisper as the alarm she was trying to control began to rise.

Soon-bok felt her heart accelerate, but she forced herself to remain calm, grasping the armrests like they were her only anchor.

***

The animals in the cargo hold reacted with anxiety to the disturbance. The “Bunny Town” rabbits gathered together, shaking, while the Golden Retriever puppies whined softly, scrambling for stability. The Siamese kittens clutched together, their mews drowning out the commotion, while “Zach's Ferret Farm” ferrets burrowed further in their blankets. Mittens, the Maine Coon with a thick tabby coat and the sleek black Bombay cat named Shadow, yowled in distress as their containers rattled. Among the dogs, a large German shepherd named Rex destined K-9 Unit remained silent, Scout a medium-sized Beagle cried, Princess a Pomeranian barked loudly, and Buddy the shaggy mutt stirred anxiously.

Echo, fluttering her wings rapidly, squawked, “Hold on tight! Hold on tight!” Her statements mimicked the plane’s instability, mocking the sense of powerlessness that gripped everyone on board.

***

The cabin regained a fraction of calm as the turbulence gradually subsided. Yet, the aftermath lingered like a bitter aftertaste. In coach, a six-year-old boy's biscuit barrage and piercing giggles disrupted the cabin's calm, drawing curious glances from passengers. Unseen by the boy’s mother, a subtle conspiracy played out behind her; two young men, drawn to the child’s antics, silently encouraged him.

Meanwhile, a private caregiver in an aisle seat emerged as a beacon of hope for the disabled young man beside him. His radiant and reassuring smile lit up the dim cabin as he adjusted the pillow around the young man’s neck, providing comfort and stability amidst the unsettled atmosphere.

Without warning, the jet jerked sharply out of nowhere, tugging at people with startling force. The plane quivered, the metal making menacing creaks like it was under stress. But the plane corrected itself almost as rapidly, producing a combination of relief sighs and uneasy laughs.

A woman, tinged with concern, turned to the older gentleman beside her and asked, “What was that?”

“I'm not sure,” he said, his voice steady but filled with underlying caution. As the flight attendant neared, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Is everything okay?” he inquired.

The flight attendant maintained her composure, explaining calmly, “It’s not uncommon for an airplane to encounter air pockets. There’s no need to be concerned.” Mindful but firm, she extracted her wrist from his hold. “Buckle in; it may help,” she nodded professionally.

The passengers did as instructed, but the discomfort was evident. The woman and the older gentleman hastened to follow her advice, securing their seat belts tightly.

The flight attendant continued her inspection down the aisle with a reassuring smile. Her calm efficiency restored a sense of normalcy among the jittery passengers.

***

The animals remained anxious in the cargo hold, their prior restfulness forgotten.

Echo, sensing the silence, screeched, “Is it over? Is it over?” Her voice bouncing in the small area distracted the frightened pets surrounding her.

***

The sense of normalcy was shattered fifteen minutes later by the jet jerking sharply out of nowhere, tugging at people with startling force. The plane quivered, the metal making menacing creaks like it was under stress. The staff’s routine, which had provided comfort, had faded into the distance, giving way to a pervasive feeling of uncertainty. But the plane corrected itself almost as rapidly, producing a combination of relief sighs and uneasy laughs.

A thunderous boom that appeared to split the air was heard. This was followed by a tremendous roar, and vibrations radiated through the fuselage, rocking the entire aircraft.

In the luxurious confines of first-class, Hei-ran pressed her face against the cool window glass.

Her eyes widened when she saw flames and black smoke billow from the wing. Her voice tinged with urgency. “Sister!” she exclaimed.

At her call, Soon-bok’s irritation flickered across her face as she dropped the brochure she’d been perusing into her lap with a slap. “What now?” she grumbled, her patience wearing thin.

The lights flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced across the worried faces.

Anxious, Hei-ran tapped on the window. Compelled by her unusual behavior, Soon-bok stood and leaned over, her eyes widening in shock as she peered out. Her heart skipped a beat, and the image outside the glass was beyond comprehension. She saw the engine engulfed in flames, fire licking hungrily at itself as shards of metal hurtled through the air. The color drained from her face, her expression morphing into sheer terror.

***

The explosion’s force sent animals into a frenzy inside the cargo hold. The bunnies in “Bunny Town” scampered to find cover as they pounded against the sides of their cage, clearly terrified. Kennel rocked as the Golden Retriever puppies yelled and screamed, their little bodies flung against the crate walls. The Siamese kittens had transformed into a tangled mass of fur and claws, and their meows could hardly be heard over the commotion. “Zach’s Ferret Farm” ferrets rushed wildly around their crate in frantic attempts to break free.
Mittens and Shadow are fearful and aggressive. As the turbulence increased, both cats hissed loudly, their ears flat against their heads. They both clawed furiously at the sides of their crates, hissing and baring their teeth at the unknown threat. Rex barked non-stop. Scout’s nose was pressed hard against the bars of the container as he howled. Princess tipped, running in circles. Ever the nervous one, Buddy let out a low, sorrowful cry.

Echo fluttered her wings frantically in her cage. “Oh no! Oh no!” she cried as the commotion around her worsened.

***

Outside, now immersed in flames, the engine raged with terrifying ferocity, its typical hum morphing into a deep, irregular growl. Sharp pops and hisses pierced the air as the fire burned the gasoline lines, sending waves of heat and sound into the fuselage.

***

A visceral fear clenched Soon-bok’s throat as she stumbled back into her seat, overwhelmed by a chilling horror that gnawed relentlessly at her insides.

Meanwhile, still disbelieving, Hei-ran watched as debris shattered against the windows, splintering violently. Pieces of metal ricocheted off the frame, some piercing the aircraft’s skin. Startled, Hei-ran jerked back, startled by fragments that pelted the glass. As she resettled into her seat, attempting to soothe her frayed nerves, the cabin pressure dropped, accompanied by a faint but ominous hiss.

Near the cockpit, a stewardess halted abruptly, her steps ceasing when a terrible, strangled noise reached her ears. Nearby, another flight attendant scanned the cabin, her gaze falling on nothing but concerned faces until she noticed the elderly couple. Clutching each other, their faces grief-stricken, they seemed to embody the terror that began seizing everyone aboard.

A few overhead bins flung open, spilling contents into the aisles as the plane lurched violently from side to side. It sent a cascade of oxygen masks swaying before the wide-eyed passengers. A few screams echoed in coach, a primal chorus as passengers clutched their seats, their faces etched with gloom. The flight attendants paused, faces pale, as the total weight of the crisis hit them. The initial shock in their eyes soon shifted to a focused determination as they looked at each other, a silent agreement passing between them. There was no time for a gentle approach; they had to act swiftly.

The cabin echoed with a tense voice coming from the speaker system. “Place your seat upright. Head down on your lap. Hug your knees. Remain seated,” it said, then repeated, each instruction clear and urgent, sending a new wave of panic through the already scared passengers.

With practiced precision, the attendants moved down the aisles, their hands gripping headrests for stability as the aircraft trembled beneath them. They checked every passenger, adjusted masks, and ensured everyone complied with the safety measures. Each nod or touch from the crew offered a silent reassurance.

Once every person was secured and instructed, the attendants made their way to their seats. They strapped themselves in, exchanging brief looks that mixed relief with lingering concern as they braced for whatever came next.

Suddenly, the jet was shaken by another explosion, this time more intense. The impact pulled the plane sideways, people shouted as drinks, meals, and personal goods were thrown across the cabin.

***

Inside the cockpit, the tension was palpable. With a fierce grip, the first officer’s muscles were taut as he held onto the control wheel. “Lost another engine!” he announced, his voice strained under the pressure.

The captain responded immediately, “Yes, I know!” frustration evident in his tone.

The dashboard before them was a chaos of flashing lights and blaring alarms, creating a cacophony that tested their focus.

Squinting against the onslaught of visual and auditory distractions, the captain grimaced. “Turns out, that’s only half of the problem. The rudder and some instruments are malfunctioning, too,” he explained.

The first officer’s skin prickled with a cold rush of realization as adrenaline surged through him. Leaning over, he grabbed his headset and slid it over his head. Lowering the microphone, his voice quivering urgently, he broadcast their dire circumstances. “Mayday, mayday, mayday,” he called out, his plea for help cutting through the noise, a stark call for salvation in the vast Pacific expanse.

***

Terrified passengers clasped their hands together, whispering fervent prayers as the cabin lights flickered ominously. The “Fasten Your Seat Belts” sign glowed persistently above, casting an eerie light over the scene. Amidst the chaos, cries and prayers mingled with the rush of wind, each word a plea for safety.

The ex-wives crouched in their seats, curling over and gripping their legs. The crew’s orders echoed in their heads,.

Soon-bok's eyes glazed over as the plane shook severely as her thoughts returned to two weeks before. She recalls storming into her son’s bathroom, water spraying everywhere as he stared at her in amazement. His eyes had widened and fear blazing across his face, as her anger erupted, overwhelming her before she could think. Her chest constricted at the memory, her breathing shallow as the jet jolted her back to the present.

Hei-ran’s voice cut through her reverie. “Sister.”

Soon-bok gripped her legs tighter, a deep sense of dread settling in.

Hei-ran reached out, frightened, and nudged her Soon-bok. “Sister,” she said quietly, her voice shaking with a building worry threatening to break through her usually calm facade.

“Eh!” Soon-bok responded, startled from her trance. “What?”

“If something should happen, please look after the boy.”

“Stop it, all will be fine.” Soon-bok tried to soothe her, though her voice shook. Grasping her sister’s hand, firm, “Didn’t you say I was born under a lucky star?” Her words, meant to comfort, hung between them, a fragile hope in the dim, trembling cabin.

Minutes later, at 33,000 feet, the aircraft twisted into a violent corkscrew, throwing the world inside the cabin into chaos. Passengers screamed as they clutched at anything they could—their armrests, the seats in front of them, each other. Overhead, any closed bins burst open, disgorging their contents into aisles. Luggage, books, and loose articles became projectiles that tumbled through the air in a terrifying ballet.

The plane tipped, the nose pointing directly at the ocean far below. The maneuver launched into a sharp dive. The speedometer needle crept towards 450 mph. Passengers lurched forward, the power of the descent yanking them from their seats. For a horrifying instant, they floated in midair before their seatbelts pulled them back with a hard thud. Loose things floated ominously before crashing back down, adding to the unsettling commotion.

The captain’s strained voice crackled over the intercom, “Brace for impact!” but the din of crying, screaming, and praying passengers almost drowned out his words. “I repeat, brace for impact!”

Outside, the sky and sea blurred into a terrifying whirl of blue, the horizon tilting wildly as the plane spiraled downward. The ocean surface rushed closer, its expanse a looming, unstoppable force that filled the view from the small cabin windows.

Soon-bok and Hei-ran gripped hands tightly. Despite their constant bickering, a strong bond of sisterhood had formed between them over the years. They were more than just ex-wives with a shared history; they were companions in that moment. Memories of past arguments faded insignificance as they faced their potential end together.

Hei-ran’s voice trembled as she whispered, “Sister, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Soon-bok replied, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. “We’ll get through this.”

The plane accelerated, a fiery comet hurtling toward the dark waters below.

The sisters’ grip tightened their shared fear and love, binding them together in those final, terrifying moments.

The aircraft met the ocean with a catastrophic impact, the sound of metal tearing and water rushing in a deafening roar.

The animals in the cargo hold whirled in panic and uncertainty. The impact ripped open the once-secure crates, violently throwing the animals inside as cold seawater rushed in. Echo’s last words, unheard by anyone, were lost in the commotion.

The mighty plane, once brimming with life, was engulfed by the sea, swallowed by the relentless waves, leaving behind a watery cemetery of debris and shattered lives.