In the cockpit, the alarms were a choir of chaos. Elias didn't flinch. He didn't think about his wife waiting at the gate in Santiago or the fact that this was his last flight before retirement. He was simply a machine of muscle and memory. He adjusted the trim, felt the engines roar in protest, and forced the nose down to regain speed.
The plane hit a pocket of dead air, dropping five hundred feet in a second. Screams erupted from the cabin. Oxygen masks tumbled from the ceiling like yellow plastic ghosts. [S9E5] Leave Your Emotions at the Cabin Door
When the wheels finally chirped against the tarmac in Santiago, the silence didn't break immediately. It lingered until the engines began their low, mournful whine down to a halt. In the cockpit, the alarms were a choir of chaos
For twenty minutes, the aircraft was a metal tube of absolute, practiced coldness. No one cried because no one had the permission to. They were all holding their breath, suspended in a vacuum where emotion had been surgically removed. He was simply a machine of muscle and memory