Ah, the skies over the Pacific. From up here, it's a long way down. From down there, it's an even longer way to shore.

Up here, an aircraft flies. It comes from Barstow-ways.

In the cockpit, Lev Filina is at the yoke. He comes from Long Beach-ways. He's a long way from home. But then, as far as he's concerned, he always will be. He lived in Long Beach, of all places. And yet, he couldn't even settle THERE...let alone stay on the ground...

Lev yawns, as he flies. The Pacific sure is long and wide...

Around him, the cockpit's got posters. One has a picture of a five-dram coin on it. It's been dented, and lies next to a flattened rifle bullet, still smoking The caption on it says, in both Armenian and English, something like "death to money; life to social equality."

Another poster's got a crown on it. The crown once belonged to a line of Armenian meliks (i.e. nobles). It's been singed by war fire; the crowning jewel has been shattered. The caption, also in both Armenian and English, says something like, "death to the state; life to anarchy."

These are just passion posters, of course. Lev understands, very well, the dangers of trying to destroy a country's state, currency, or rich. He sure wishes he didn't have to, though. The Kardashian sisters are hot and all, but...there's no beauty so godly that she deserves to be superior to the human peasant.

Below, a pod of blue whales swims past. Lev slows down, and descends a bit, to take a look. He dares not get too close; first of all, he can only fly so slow at a low altitude, and second of all, he might spook the pod. He knows about the myth of Icarus; but first of all, that was just a myth, and second of all, Icarus died because he flied too high, not too low.

They don't stay surfaced for long. Even so, a lot of them come up afterwards, and breathe again. They spew water from the surface, like short-term geysers, with their blowholes. Lev understands that they're harmless, unless they're nursing calves; even so, he'd hate to be alone on a raft among them.

Onward he flies. Again, it's a big ocean.

He takes out his smartphone, and opens his photo gallery. He finds one of a cute Asian chick he once met at the main tower of the aircraft company. She probably doesn't remember him. Part of him would rather prefer it if she didn't.

Up ahead, the horizon is diluted with a purple tinge. From it, the ocean starts turning black...

Lev sees, and watches. He starts to get paranoid. The black is getting close fast. He's convinced that he's just seeing the ocean turn black...like every octopus in the ocean sprayed their ink at the same time...

Lev always knew that octopi were a popular food. He just...didn't think there were so many in the Pacific.

High above, the sun shines atop the ocean surface. Its rays hit the black water. They bounce off, rise, and sense the approaching aircraft...

They sense Lev's presence, and open a portal. Lev flies right through it...although he struggles to avoid going through it.

All around him, black smoke rises. He can't see. He tries to slow the plane down...but loses altitude. Not that the altimeter can tell; all of the plane's instruments are spinning out of control.

Up ahead, there's a purple light. Lev can't help but fly towards it...

The smoke vanishes, and white, pink, and purple light sparkles everywhere. Lev tries to shield his eyes. He'd rather not, of course. It takes vision to fly this thing.

Up ahead, a mushroom cloud rises from the depths of this strange dimension. Again, Lev tries to go around...

But he can't. He flies right into it. Everywhere, the aircraft catches fire. Crap; now he's going to have to pay to have it replaced...

From out of nowhere, purple lightning strikes the aircraft. It's all shattered...except Lev. Now Lev is freefalling. He can't entirely tell, but he's pretty sure that not even Tom Petty will save him now.

Tom Petty can't, of course. He's been dead for three years.

Lev flails...although there's nothing to grab. All around him, debris from his aircraft falls.

He watches, as a photo of the cute Japanese chick drifts past him. His heart is shattered, when a random arc of purple lightning flashes, and burns the photo to a cinder.

Above, a smoking and flaming jet engine falls after Lev. Lev had better not stop falling anytime soon. That engine will do more than pancake him, if it lands atop him...

Thankfully though, another bolt of lightning strikes, turning that jet engine into shrapnel. Its parts are scattered, better protecting Lev.

Below, Lev sees a black hoop. It's got arcs of light dancing within it. A strange shadow lingers inside it. It gives Lev a weird feeling, as he falls closer and closer towards it...

Lev's heart stops, as he falls right through the hoop. It struggles to start beating again, once he's fallen through.

He's back in the real world. He's falling towards the shallows surrounding a Pacific island. All around, boobies, tropicbirds, and frigatebirds fly.

Lev splashes down, submerges, and treads water, expecting to be showered in plane debris. He isn't. Apparently he's the only survivor of his aircraft's incident.

High above, the metal hoop still overs in place. It vanishes, leaving reality be.

Lev's heart freezes, when a lionfish swims past him. Thankfully, the venous-spined fish seems more interested in protecting himself, than in deliberately stinging anyone. Lev best be wary, though. Lionfish may be solitary, like himself...but he's also been told that they breed like rabbits.

He soon forgets the lionfish when a humongous sea turtle swims past him. Lev's startled. Sometimes he forgets that in the wild, sea turtles are MUCH bigger than the pond turtles in the Deep South...

He swims up behind the turtle, pinches the aft of its carapace, and hitches a ride to shore. Once he can wade, he does so. He surfaces, shakes himself off, and treads to shore. The waves irrigate him from behind, at various rates, until he's out of the water's reach.

Once ashore, he wishes he stayed in the water. It's fucking hot out here.

He has no idea what's happened to him...or how the hell he's getting back to Long Beach. He doesn't even know if what or whoever did this to him is friend to him, or foe.