Chapter 1
The plane gave a lurch, sending me tumbling. From somewhere, there is a deafening boom, a sound of tearing metal, and I can see flames and the stars where the side of the plane should be. Immediately, we begin to plummet. I can’t hear any of the crushing noise, or panicked screams and neighs I know must be filling the air. Ponies fly haphazardly, like beans in a can, shaken by some giant foal. More often than not, they make a hard impact with the walls or the seats, and stop moving. Some are sucked out the gaping hole, leaving me lucky to be painfully wedged between the seats. Another crash, and the cabin begins to fill with ice cold ocean water, flooding in through the gash in the side. I wrench myself free, taking a lungful of air. This thing is sinking, and I can’t afford to be on it. Outside, in the dark water, I pause, just far enough away to avoid being sucked down with it, watching the darkness swallow the white shape of the airplane. I can’t hold my breath any longer, and shoot to the surface. As soon as I break into the night air, a long swell breaks over me, forcing me back down, filling my mouth and lungs with salt water. I panic, flailing for the surface. I break into the air again, coughing out saltwater, drinking down greedy gulps of air. Slowly, my wits return. I turn a circle, scanning the sea around me. There’s nothing. Nothing but the sinking tail of the plane, still ablaze, illuminating the warm night. I can hear the crackle from here, but ominously, nopony. Could all those ponies be dead, just like that? I shiver, as much at the water’s nagging cold as the thought. Unless I find something, anything, to hang onto here, in the middle of the Atlantic, I’ll be dead, too. I turn again, searching. The plane disappears under the water behind me, taking the last light with it. For a second, everything is dark. It’s hard not to imagine slipping under the waves again, disappearing like the plane, and the other ponies. My eyes adjust as I stave the panic off. I can tell the horizon from the sea again, along with something else. An enormous tower, black against the stars, life-savingly out of place in the Atlantic. Immediately, foreboding overwhelms me, but I quickly stuff it down. It’s not like I’m getting a better offer, out here. Up close, the thing looms, behemoth. Safe on the metal pier, mane dripping into my eyes, all I can do is stare. I can barely make out what the sign says, but it’s no comfort. I’m in Rapture.