The sky, filled with the iron remnants of a civilization risen on the backs of stone. Falling, clattering together, exploding, fiery tornado of clutter coming down with the engines and gears that once rotated to make this monstrosity reach the heavens. The toxic waters of earth are welcoming to the prey; waves clashing in a greenish-yellow hue.
The gargantua of the sky, engine failure and all, was coming to its end. One of its mighty rotors turning towards the sky, trying to carry its home, shooting out of its gullet, a mix of ash and flame. The rotor counterpart, falling into the sea. Screws that held this craft together have come loose, spiralling through the dawn’s mix of stars and light. A hum of concussive blasts rock the early day, visions of the past and terrors of the deep creep into the frame; a lone man stands aboard the falling beast.
A metallic gleam bounces off the stern of the ship, and a cloud of smoke is now engulfing the craft. The giant steam towers crack down the middle and split both ways, one splitting the deck of the ship, the other penetrating the sea, pulling with it half of the ship’s left railing. The furnished rooms have become lit in flames of chemicals and carbon, and the engine room is churning out its final gasps of steam as it is crushed by the falling steam tower.
Stumbling, but kneeling now, the man feels his creation once more, knowing what is to come. The floor now feels hot; once a smooth metallic feel, as cool as a stone, but changed through years of wear and tear. Now it is a scratched and dented surface, as a result of a thousand footsteps and stomps. A large cracking sound comes from deep within the vessel. Its airborn days are over. “Brace for impact,” the man yells in a shrill voice, but no one is here now. He is the last of humanity, only reassuring himself that this could not be the end. Sweat and tears run down his face, the greenish-yellow water approaching.
Destruction comes. The front of the aircraft smashes into the water’s surface and acidic foam creeps onto every edge of the vessel, moving slowly into the center. “The radiation suit,” he thinks to himself. In his last attempt to preserve his life and humanity itself, he dashes through the remaining corridors of the ship, towards the control room. Stumbling into the room he comes to realize that the water is rushing in behind him now.
He slams the door shut as the water smashes against it, trapping him and his creation under the ocean floor.