Survival of the Fittest- Flashpoint

| Prologue |

The impatience of the matter was unavoidable, the plane ride seemed endless. There was no way out, unless you call plummeting into the ocean to drown an "escape". They promised it would be worth it. Emburn, on the other paw, doubted it.
Emburn was a winged-fox Iumi with red, white, and black fur, her eyes being an emerald green and ruby red. Her long, brown hair covered her right eye; the red one. Her feathered wings were black like a crow's and she wore a holly crown on her head. She was sitting next to her best friend, Tidal, who was also forced to come on this so-called "trip".
Tidal was an older model of the TV robots. He was a light grey with a black screen face, his eyes a lime green. He wore his usual grey hoodie with the blue drawstrings and had darker grey leggings with black and greyish-white slip-on shoes.
The two of them sat in silence, for the most part. For a plane holding 24 passengers (Emburn counted at least 6 times out of boredom), no voices spoke up. Not even the pilots said a word. The only sounds heard were the plane engines along the wings and the shifting of people on the cushioned seats every once in a while. Emburn's sensitive ears couldn't pick up any other noises. It was quite unsettling. Everyone there seemed to notice. It couldn't be a vacation; what kind of vacation forces a certain number of people into a plane with no explanation whatsoever?
Ridiculous, Emburn inwardly spat.
The sky was clear except for the desert of white clouds below the plane. It supposedly was the only peaceful thing at the moment. Emburn wanted to know what was going on. She couldn't ask anyone around her, of course they won't have an answer. She had to ask the pilots. But how could she get there? Surely someone would try to stop her, perhaps a question or two. And she couldn't ask Tidal to do it for her; it would lead to the same outcome she imagined. Plus, why would she need to ask someone else to get the answers that she wanted from the pilots? At the same time, Emburn had no interest in asking for help, and she never had.
The plane made a tremendous lurch. The sudden movement forced Emburn to jump in her seat, the seat belt that kept her from flying to the seat behind her pressing uncomfortably into her skin.
Great Erla, she cursed. What's going on?
"The heck?" Tidal questioned aloud, the same confusion and surprise Emburn had was noticeable in his robot voice. Yet, the plane almost cut him off as it continued to jerk in the sky. Exclamations began to sweep throughout the passengers.
"Who's driving this thing?" Emburn was able to pick up question from someone farther to the back of the plane. Yes, who was driving?
With a grip on the seat in front of her with her claws, she unbuckled herself and stood.
"Come on," she instructed to Tidal as she made her way into and down the isleway toward the front of the plane. Tidal was up and following within seconds as if he had the same idea. The plane made it difficult to walk through without tumbling to the side, which Emburn practically did multiple times. She stumbled forward, catching a glimpse of a few passengers as she passed. When she made to the cockpit door, she grabbed the handle, half to keep her from falling into the plane's side from yet another horrible buck. She had a few words she had to say to these idiotic pilots; were they trying to get them all killed? She threw the door open with a glare on her face, ready to spit out threats if they didn't land safely right away; but no one was there.
"No one's driving!" Emburn turned to her friend, her voice raised over the growing commotion: both the plane engines- which sounded like loud groans of pain- and the screams of fear behind them.
"Let me try something," Tidal said right away. Emburn let him pass and followed him into the pilot's compartment. He ducked between the left seat and the control desk. Finding a locked component of the control desk- which was supposedly unlocked for some suspicious reason- he pried it open and reached inside, pulling out a handful of wires, most of which had been cut.
"Someone's cut the wires," he told Emburn, taking two wires of the same color and tried to restore control over the plane with them, a spark or a few flying as he tried.
"Why?" Emburn asked, though the question was pointless; no one there would have an answer; just a guess, perhaps.
Tidal didn't reply as he concentrated on the wires in his hands. He reconnected the two multiple times, but other than the sparks, it did nothing.
"It's not working!" He exclaimed.
At that moment, Emburn heard the plane engines begin to die; they were dying off rather quickly.
"We're going to go down!" She yelled, grabbing hold of Tidal and dragging him back. The plane engines died. The head of the plane began to dip. There was no more time to try and fix the plane. Hurriedly, both Emburn and Tidal got into a pilot seat and buckled up. The plane was dropping quickly; it wasn't long before Emburn could see them heading straight for a small island below, nothing but ocean surrounding it for miles. The faster they fell, the closer they got. The closer they got, the tenser Emburn felt.
"Brace for impact!" Tidal yelled. At this point, Emburn could pick out each individual tree on the island. She squeezed her eyes shut, her ears flat against her head, her jaw tight, and her claws digging into her seat. The plane was dropping like a meteor, trembling from the pressure of the wind. Moments after Tidal's warning did the plane hit solid ground. Despite being buckled, the impact took its toll. It was so sudden and hurt like a bullet to the head. Emburn had a single moment to realize she didn't want to die even if death would be better than this before she heard nothing.
It was like the world around her disappeared. Or she simply fell asleep unwillingly.