(Date is approximate)
Falling through the rough wind and dizzying mists, he saw nothing but chaotic patches of white and blue, but he felt the sword's presence and location inside him, as if their connection, crafted through years of company, were as real, nay, stronger yet than sturdy rope.
He maneuvered in thin air out of instinct, flawlessly for the first time, sliding past treacherous air patches as if they were painted in front of his eyes just for him. After an eternal instant of blind falling, he clutched on the hilt of his gray weapon before he could yet see it, and at that point he became himself again. No longer a dying titan, filled with hope again, he relinquished his desperate status to that of a mere mortal. And as his feet touched no ground, his eyes saw no object, and his body felt no balance, Fear struck him like a whiplash he had left behind.
A nothingness later, his body jolted to something to him yet unperceived, and a myriad of events crumpled in a moment. He felt forces strike his feet, his hands, then spread all over his body, and when he was able to open his eyes, he stood placidly, erect on the beach, his sword sheathed in the wet sand to his right. He hadn't even wondered at these events when a great explosion reached him from above, and he caught a glimpse of the airship disintegrating. Had he hooked his harness as he had decided before leaping, he would've surely exploded along with it.
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