Avangard: Hgh sails and High peril.: Take a Leap

Cyril positioned himself in front of exit seven, watching as the train gradually decelerated, finally halting at the desolate station. He had lost count of how many stops the Train had taken at this point, his precise location at the very moment between the stations was becoming blurred, Cyril estimated he was likely halfway through the first return, and should be coming back to Drayton in half a week. The realization that the train would soon rotate and return crossed his mind, but the confines of the Argo Breakwater occupied his immediate concerns. In this fleeting moment, however, his singular objective was to locate the stranger and return the badge so that he could finally leave..

 

The contemplation and temptation of leaving the badge that has hexed his life for an unsuspecting soul to discover in one of the nearby train cabins briefly crossed Cyril's mind, but his conscience rejected the notion. The prospect of burdening another with the same enigmatic fate he now endured proved insufferable. While he could extricate himself from the current predicament, the ethical dilemma of ensnaring another weighed heavily on him. The potential repercussions and the possibility of the newcomer reacting less favorably disturbed Cyril's conscience. He attributed his resolve to a sense of courage, dismissing it as guilt or foolishness, as he took a steadying breath.

 

His hand met the chilled surface of the door handle, prompting him to swing it open with reckless abandon a first step to delve into the unknown, and the first step to his investigation of the Cloaked figure. Little did he realize that this seemingly innocuous act would lead to dire consequences. A sudden rush of air, akin to the force experienced when opening an airplane door mid-flight, seized Cyril, propelling him through the firmly sealed door.

Freefalling at a dizzying speed, Cyril's thoughts struggled to keep pace with the impending danger. When someone would be falling a thousand feet per second their mind doesn't have enough time to conceptualize words such as “This is where I meet my end” or “I haven't said goodbye to my loved ones” Instead, his immediate thoughts were. “Oh no” 

Diving to an alarming descent into a purple-hued horizon, surrounded by a maddening mixture of light blue and black clouds. Panic was swift to set in for the unfortunate Tinkerer, but before he could comprehend the severity of the situation, his body collided with an unseen object.

Between the blackened clouds blocking his sight, Cyril instinctively flailed, desperately searching for purchase. His fingers gripped onto something coarse and rigid, offering a fleeting sense of relief before a second impact registered his body flung into the surface he grabbed onto with a painful 'thud'.

As his hands clung to the rough surface, Cyril's surroundings became clear once the clouds parted. – a sprawling red and gold ship sailed through the skies. the sounds of propellers underneath him, figures peered over the edge above, their expressions a mix of curiosity and astonishment. At that moment, Cyril, bruised and sore but alive, found solace in the unexpected safety of the airborne vessel and the watchful eyes of those above.

Hanging by a thread, Cyril's desperate cry for help echoed through the winds, reaching the ears of the men on the deck above. Clinging tightly to the port side of the ship, his eyes scanned the surroundings, desperately searching for anything within reach. A rope dangled tantalizingly close maybe, indeed there was one but a whole yard away, Cyril soon realized the enormity of the ship obscured both ends from Cyril's view making the tinkerer realize the sheer size of the vessel. .

"Oi! Man overboard!" The shout from above was accompanied by the hurried footsteps of the ship's inhabitants. Cyril's grip on the cold wood began to falter, his fingers losing their surface tension. Sensation ebbed away from Cyril's fingertips as the unforgiving wood proved challenging to grasp. Fear welled within him, the desperate "No, no, no, don't fall!" echoing in his mind. Cyril summoned all his concentration, urging himself to tighten his grip, yet with each attempt, his fingers slipped further. The wood offered little surface tension, and the groove from which he originally held onto, his last hope, was now failing him.

As the numbing chill crept up his arms, they began to shake uncontrollably and sporadically, Cyril battled against the diminishing strength in his hands, desperately clinging to the hope that he could endure long enough for those above to throw a rope or a lifeline down for him.

"Oh no, how did this happen?" exclaimed a woman with a peacock draped over her shoulders. "Get a rope quickly!"

"He's slipping fast! Someone, help him!" cried out another voice in the haze of voices shouting over one another..

In a sudden and violent lurch, Cyril's left hand detached from the ship. The vessel rocked violently, Overhead lights illuminated the scene below as people became more and more aware of Cyril's situation. Brief flashes of panic played across the faces of the people above who were now peering down below. Cyril, now hanging by his right hand, teetered on the brink of a perilous fall.

Cyril clung desperately to the ship's edge. His right hand, the last tether to safety, fought against the elements. The ship veered unexpectedly, unaware of the imminent danger, He shut his eyes closed.

Unseen, a large ship loomed just meters away, narrowly avoiding a collision. With a gut-wrenching sensation, Cyril felt his right hand slipping due to the turn and rotation the ship was taking, the inevitability of the fall looming, In the suspended moment between ascent and descent, time seemed to stretch endlessly for Cyril. every second felt like a minute, every half a minute felt like an eternity. Desperation fueled his frantic attempts to find purchase raising and flailing his left arm to find something to clutch onto, his nails scraping against the unforgiving combination of strong metal and wood. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the cold inevitability of the impending fall. Every muscle strained,


Silence, ominous silence enveloped him as he lost the strength in his right arm. Now grappled with the relentless force pulling him toward the abyss.