[ WP/CW ] Write out a scene that you 've always wanted to share , whether it 's an action-packed climax , a heartbreaking emotional roller coaster , or some crazy plot twist . There just one catch ; no context allowed .

We were at about 15,000 feet with the doors wide open and moving at about 300 knots. And it was loud. 
 
 Still, it was n't so loud that I could n't hear the drop sergeant, yelling at us to line up and get ready to jump. I had heard she had been training recruits for years. Regardless, like most of our instructors, it was clear she either enjoyed her job too much, or simply hated it a lot. It was always hard to tell. 
 
 `` This is it, recruits.'' she yelled. `` Every one of you little shits is going to dive out the door. After three seconds of free fall you *will* open your wings. If not I will do it remotely - myself. To extract the wings all you need to do is move your arms out perpendicular to your shoulders. Your suit will register your movements and the webbing will suddenly expand out from your hips, coming up to meet your hands. It will happen in less than a moment. These are not, I repeat *are not* like your typical civilian wingsuits you tried in aptitude training. The webbing will solidify almost instantaneously, and it will be rigid as fuck. Once they solidify the slow-down *will* kick your ass, and hit you like a wall of bricks. When it does, catch your breath and take control. You have about 3 minutes of controlled diving to make it through as many of the rings as you can. The best score is 80 rings.'' 
 
 80 Rings? That's *every* ring, I thought to myself. The last one is 500 feet off the ground. You can even see the drones holding it in place when you're down on the tarmac. The girl who did that must have been crazy - or indifferent about dying. Either way, I was n't going to try and beat that record. I'd always been told pilot training stopped being available for the boys because they were determined to outdo each other, and too many killed themselves in the process. Plus, their strength was needed on the ground after we saw the results of the invasion's first phase. But even though male pilots were n't a thing anymore, it was clear that some of the girls before me clearly had some balls of their own as they went through flight training. But *every fucking ring? * Not me. Not today. 
 
 It was right at that moment that the first girl in line jumped. I was fourth. 
 
 She was immediately out of sight, down and to the right. At 300 knots there was no opportunity to see how the person before you had fared. She could have sideswiped the first ring and already be dead for all I knew. An extreme circumstance, sure, but it had happened before. Usually you just got knocked out and your chute kicked in, but again, I'd heard it had happened. 
 
 Then the next girl went. Ten seconds passed. Then the next girl went. 
 
 Then I was next. 
 
 I walked up to the window and grabbed the handle right by the edge. Looking down you could see that we were circling the ring network. Eighty floating rings, each one about 10 feet in diameter. They were stacked miles high to create a semi-vertical course I would try to fly through. I'd go for 60, I figured. That'd be enough. 
 
 That's when I felt it. The drop sergeant's foot, square on my back. FUCK! I had been waiting too long - daydreaming before the jump. She had clearly gotten tired of my lollygagging. 
 
 Before I could think anymore she had extended her leg and kicked me clean out of cabin. Suddenly I was falling.
