tamsin_holt
The race is over. The hunt has begun.
What started as the world's most thrilling airship competition in 1912 has become something far deadlier. The Pacific stretches endless and checkpoint-free ahead of the surviving captains, but they're no longer racing toward victory. They're running for their lives.
Ships vanish in the night. Crews disappear without distress calls. Fleets that were supposed to ensure safe passage are now the predators, and every captain who made it this far has a target painted on their hull.
The skies still shift and time still bends, but those aren't the worst dangers anymore. When the hunters close in and the pretense of civilization falls away, survival becomes the only prize that matters.
Trevor Rainbolt's gambit worked. Now he has to live with the consequences.
And in a hunt where the rules change with every sunrise, knowing where you are won't save you from what's coming.
(A Geoguessr Fanfiction)