Lockley watched her friends laughing and chatting by the courtyard, their vibrant energy filling the air. She stood at a distance, hidden behind a mask of forced cheerfulness. It was time to bid farewell.

"Goodbye, Lockley!" Sarah, her closest friend, enveloped her in a warm hug. "You're going to soar to new heights, both figuratively and literally."

Lockley mustered a smile, her eyes darting from one person to another, their faces shifting, warping into gruesome visages only she could see. The stench of decay clung to them. She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and fought against the urge to recoil.

"Thanks, Sarah," she managed to reply. "I'm really going to miss you all."

The others formed a small circle around her, offering their well wishes and words of encouragement. But as their expressions distorted in her vision, Lockley struggled to keep her composure. The urge to flee gnawed at her, beckoning her to escape the horror that accompanied her every interaction.

Mark chimed in, a playful glint in his eyes, "if you ever need a co-pilot, I'm your guy!"

Lockley's gaze fell on Mark, his face contorting into a grotesque mask of gashes and blood. She forced herself to look away, her heart pounding like a frantic metronome. The familiar surge of panic coursed through her veins, threatening to overwhelm her.

"Thanks," she replied, her voice quivering. "I'll keep that in mind."

She took a step back, her body instinctively distancing itself from them. Each heartbeat thudded in her ears.

One by one, she bid farewell to her friends, her mind racing with prayers that they would remain safe. With each goodbye, she felt a mix of relief and dread. Relief that she could escape the impending horrors for a while, and dread that she would inevitably witness which of her visions were accurate. It wasn't faultless, she assured herself. Her cousin had looked burnt, but he had died from a gunshot. Not that one was much better than the other. He was still dead.

As the final farewell came, Lockley fought against the knot in her throat, her eyes darting eastward where her beloved plane awaited. The Rusthawk was her sanctuary, her fleeting moment of respite.

"Take care," Sarah said, her voice tinged with concern. "Remember, we're just a radio call away."

Lockley nodded, her heart aching at the thought of distancing herself from these people who had shown her only kindness. She had no plans to return to the University. Not for at least a year if her meticulous planning was precise. And if the visions she saw were the right ones, she wouldn't see her friends again, not in this life.

With a final wave and a trembling smile, Lockley turned away, her steps quickening as she made her way to the hangar. Her gift showed her ghosts of injured pilots who once roamed this building but she knew better than to acknowledge them. Each footfall marked her escape as she crossed the threshold to her aircraft. The University had taught her well. She had broken records and rose through the ranks of their pilot program. Now it was time to use that knowledge.

As the Rusthawk's engine roared to life, drowning out the cacophony of her tortured visions, Lockley took a deep breath, her trembling hands finding solace in the familiar controls. A rush of euphoria coursed through her veins as the wheels left the ground, lifting her above the world.

Finally alone amidst the vast expanse of the sky, Lockley allowed herself to break. Uncontrollable tears fell as she cried for her lost friends.

A beeping noise called for her attention. She uncurled herself from the pilot seat and tuned the radio. She needed clearance to leave the University airspace. It was time to make a good first impression.

[Radio Transmission Begins]

Lockley: This is Lockley-2, calling all stations. Do you copy? Over.

Air Traffic Control (ATC): Yeah, yeah, we copy you. What's your deal? Over.

Lockley: Lockley here. I, uh, just wanted to introduce myself to everyone. It's my maiden flight and I'm embarking on a personal scavenging mission. I'm great with machines and know how to find valuable loot. um, Nice to meet you all. Over.

ATC: Oh, great. We got a wannabe treasure hunter here. We've got real pilots out here doing real missions, and you think you can waste our time with your little treasure hunt? Well, don't expect any special treatment. You're authorized to fly solo, right? Give us your estimated time of return. Over.

Lockley: I-I'm sorry, ATC. I didn't mean to bother anyone. I'll be careful and, um, I'll make sure to stay out of everyone's way. I am flying solo. As for the return time, it's uncertain due to the nature of my scavenging mission. I'll provide updates as I progress. Over.

ATC: Uncertain? What kind of amateur are you? You better hope you don't cause any trouble. Don't make us regret authorizing your flight. Over.

Lockley: I understand, ATC. I'll make sure to maintain regular communication. Lockley-2, signing off. Over and out.

[Radio Transmission Ends]

The scorching sun beat down on her as she stood at the designated digspot, her eyes surveying the surrounding landscape with a discerning gaze. This was her first salvage spot, and she aimed to execute it with the precision of a seasoned archaeologist. Her drones, "Lucky-3" and "Lucky-8," hovered nearby, ready to assist her with their arsenal of shovels and various tools.

Lockley's voice was calm and commanding. "Lucky-8, proceed with caution. Engage your shovel attachment and excavate the area to a depth of two meters."

The drone responded with a precise movement, its mechanical appendage descending upon the earth with calculated precision. Soil cascaded as the shovel dug deep, unearthing layers of sediment and revealing the hidden secrets beneath.

Lucky-3, hovering overhead, emitted a series of soft beeps and whirrs. Its sensors scanned the surroundings, probing for any sign of ancient artifacts concealed within the layers of time.

Lockley crouched down, her gloved fingers delicately brushing away layers of dirt and debris. Her movements were deliberate, methodical, as she meticulously uncovered pieces of metal from the pile.

As the excavation continued, Lockley began to relax. She had mapped out the digsite, carefully marking each discovery and noting its precise location. Her mind whirred with excitement. She sat down on a foldable chair and watched her drones work. She had set-up her solar panel and they should have enough energy to finish the job. She could already see a shiny piece of old world tech slowly emerging from the dirt.

Suddenly, a familiar chill climbed up her spine and her vision focused on something that wasn't there. Lockley's heart skipped a beat as she climbed on her Rusthawk and spotted a group of bandits on the periphery of her vision. Fear gripped her, her instincts urging her to hide. They were less than a hundred meters from her and would spot her soon, if she escaped now, she would have to start all over again. She'd have to abandon her solar panels, and there's a chance they'd shoot her plane while taking off. If she stayed they might miss her completely, even if she got captured, the worst thing they would do is ransom her back to the University and she'd suffer academic suspension for her reckless actions. She froze, unable to make a choice.

Lockley watched as the bandits approached her digsite. If they moved a little bit to the east, they wouldn't spot her. Her breath caught in her throat as they scanned the area. She dared not move, her body tensed.

But just as the bandits drew dangerously close, a sudden roar of engines shattered the oppressive silence. Lockley's gaze darted skyward to behold another pilot, their aircraft swooping low over the bandits' heads. A low-hanging metal winch slammed into one of the bandits. The diversion seized the bandits' attention, redirecting their focus away from her vulnerable position. They chased after the other pilot.

A voice crackled through Lockley's radio, and she recognized it as the pilot who had saved her. "Lockley-2 right? You should be more careful out here," the pilot warned. "Bandits are always on the prowl. But it's good to see a fellow pilot around these parts. Looks like you just found a shiny piece of old world tech, incredibly valuable but also useful. Would y'sell it, keep it, or do something else?"

Relief flooded through Lockley as she grabbed for the radio. "Thank you! I'll use it to get a faster and better plane!" Laughter filled the channel. "ATC here. Is that you, Lockley-2? I told you not to waste our time, rookie. This is your last warning." Lockley smacked her face with her gloved palms before quickly uttering an apology. She had broadcasted into the main channel by accident. A plane flew over her head.

Ricky chuckled lightly through the radio. "No problem at all. Cherry and I are rooting for you, Lockley-2. Fly safe now!"