Avangard: Hgh sails and High peril.: Pocket Miracle

The amount of sudden force caused Cyril's eyes to blur vision acutely low, and the dark began to accompany him to a far-reaching plummet, the world became a chaotic blur of wind, but at that moment, his instincts took over.

With a flicker of hope as his vision focused on a single thing, Cyril's Fob watch fluttered free from his vest pocket. In a race against gravity, he extended his hand towards the elusive timepiece, twirling and tumbling through the air. Despite a missed attempt, as he sunk through a low-hanging cloud only to be spat out from underneath, Cyril continued reaching for the watch.

As panic and cries echoed from above, Cyril's fingers fumbled for the small timepiece once more. In a desperate moment, he concentrated on the ticking sound in his mind. Searching for an alternative anything really, he settled on a simple, distant thought, "Save me!"

In an instant, a sudden shift of force overwhelmed gravity. Cyril's vertical fall became horizontal once he slammed into the broad side of the ship, his body ached all over as he tried to make sense of the turn of events. Ducks spun in his vision, leaving him bewildered and questioning the inexplicable miracle that just transpired.

Addendum, The invention of the gun marked a profound shift in the course of humanity, a transformative moment that unraveled consequences beyond imagination. In Cyril's homeworld. the firearm had been introduced a century and a half ago, with the latest iteration propelling round lead balls from the barrel, ignited by a smokeless powder that superheated upon contact with a spark, usually from the hammer. The bullet, a small projectile carrying immense power, became a symbol of both progress and peril.

The Fob watch beckoned by Cyrils' overwhelming will to live, generated a condensed mass of magical fire, serving as the ignition mechanism akin to the traditional white powder. The silver locket itself, treated as the bullet, was positioned as Cyril's miraculous solution to avoid a disastrous fall.

The abrupt yank on his body caused the head of the Fob watch to embed itself firmly into the ship's side creating a small indent the size of a mouse, the taut chain once Cyrils' body now fell back down as gravity began its normal function once more tearing through the material of his vest as he dangled off the side of the ship. Suspended in mid-air like a pendulum, Cyril swung with each nauseating motion, his body aching, hands numb, and an impending sense of nausea overwhelming him. The ship's propellers loomed just feet below, 

Cyril gradually opened his eyes, relieved to spot a length of rope thrown down from the ship's deck. The crew above had rallied to his aid, their commanding voices cutting through the wind.

 

"Catch and hold on!" shouted a voice, prompting Cyril to act quickly. As his Fob watch slipped from the embedded crack due to his weight, his outstretched hand grasped onto the rope, securing his lifeline. Slowly but surely, he was hoisted back up to the ship's deck, clinging to the rope with both arms and legs. Gratitude flooded his thoughts as the frightening ordeal approached its end.

 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Cyril mentally exclaimed, his relief palpable as the ship's deck slowly came into sight. With helping hands extending out and over the railing, he was lifted overboard, bringing a moment of reprieve.