Somewhere in the Northwest Deserts
A plane, divided into two, lay amidst the vast, desolate desert. The large sand dunes surrounded the machine, as if slowly consuming the large chunk of metal and the people within it.
It had been more than an hour since the subsequent disasters, and the people in the airplane remained in their seats, unable to move due to excess pain, unconscious, or simply in a daze.
Many were listless as they sat right next to the corpses of their loved ones. Obviously, they had not yet accepted the events. At this point, many of them still wanted to believe this was a nightmare.
On the other hand, many died from the shock and the harsh shaking before landing, and many had perished during the impact as well, mostly breaking their necks or getting impaled by something.
It was only after a while that Helios emerged from the cockpit, his handsome pilot uniform torn and dirty, and his head oozing with blood.
