A massive thundercloud swallowed Luke whole.
He felt like the giant beast was yanking his parachute every which way.
One second, it whipped him hard to the left; the next, it flung him just as hard to the right.
Luke was a ragdoll tossed into a washing machine, spinning endlessly, the world a dizzy blur.
Hail, rain, thunder, and lightning took turns hammering him from all sides.
Down on the ground, you usually see the flash of lightning first, then hear the thunder rumble seconds later—light travels way faster than sound through the air.
But up here? Luke felt the lightning and thunder hit at the exact same time.
They were so close, the booming thunder made his teeth chatter and his bones rattle, his ears ringing with a relentless buzz.
"This has gotta be the wildest thing I've ever done! A few minutes of this, and I could brag about it for life!"
"If this footage hits the internet in the smartphone era, some random Joe could rack up ten million followers overnight."
Luke could only laugh through the pain, trying to psych himself up.
BOOM!
As if the heavens took offense to his daydreaming, a thunderclap exploded right beside him.
Down on the ground, the film crew was losing it.
"Holy crap! He's not gonna get struck by lightning, is he?" Depp blurted out.
"Should be fine… right? Looks close, but it's probably miles away. Those big storm clouds can stretch over a hundred miles," Vin Diesel offered, sounding less than confident.
"Why do you sound so shaky? You're just guessing, aren't you?" Depp pressed.
"Compared to a thundercloud, a human's too small to create much of a voltage difference. Plus, the body's not a great conductor—no real circuit for the current to flow. Shouldn't be a big deal," Bob's voice crackled through the comms.
"Really? So it's all bark, no bite?" Yuffie asked, a spark of hope in her voice.
"Probably! Don't worry," Bob replied.
He was trying to calm Yuffie down, but deep down, he wasn't so sure. Lightning wasn't the only threat—there was still the rain and hail to deal with.
And Bob was right: Luke was eating it up there.
Crack! Pop! Thud!
Hailstones pelted him relentlessly, smacking his helmet like someone banging on pots and pans.
Luke ducked his head as best he could, shielding his face with his hands to keep the ice from hitting where his visor didn't cover.
But dangling in midair, how much could he really block?
Sharp stings kept shooting through his body, like a thousand people chucking pebbles at him nonstop.
He felt like he'd fallen into a bottomless pit, but every so often, the parachute cords jerked with a familiar tug, like a giant hand yanking him back from the abyss.
Man, this sucked. Really sucked.
And it wasn't even the worst part. The air around him was so thick with moisture, it was like he was drowning in it.
Wrapped in a bubble of rain, Luke could've sworn he wasn't skydiving—he was underwater.
He had to hold his breath to keep from choking on the water.
The last thing he wanted was to hit the ground as a drowned corpse, with some coroner scratching their head over lungs full of water.
Action star Luke drowns in the sky—yeah, he wasn't about to make that headline.
But holding his breath forever wasn't an option either. He had to time his gasps carefully.
Oxygen was already thin at this altitude. Pass out from lack of air, and he'd be helpless against any surprise.
He'd thought timing his breaths would be a nightmare.
But to his surprise, he nailed it—slipping between holding his breath and sneaking quick inhales like it was nothing.
It was almost… fun. A weird kind of thrill. He even kicked his legs a bit, feeling like he was "swimming" at 23,000 feet.
Then it hit him: he had master-level aquatic skills.
Holding his breath, timing his breathing? Child's play for him.
Luke hadn't expected his aquatic mastery to debut here, of all places.
He'd figured it'd shine during the filming of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest.
Talk about a happy accident—this skill was saving his bacon big time.
He knew he'd made it through the worst of it.
Slowly, as he descended, things started to settle.
The ear-splitting thunder faded into the distance.
The air warmed up bit by bit.
The outline of the ground came into focus.
"Rescue team, move out! Expected landing zone: 30 degrees northwest, 12 miles out," the ground crew barked, springing into action.
Yuffie and Vin Diesel piled into a rescue vehicle, speeding off toward the site.
"Wait, take me with you!" Depp shouted, waving his arms as he missed the ride.
"No room! Hang tight, we'll be back!" Vin Diesel yelled out the window.
"Ugh, what a bummer. Luke looking like a total wreck, and I can't even snap a pic for the 'gram," Depp muttered to himself, trudging back.
"You're gonna treat a hero's return like that? Trying to catch him slipping? Lame," Tyson said, giving Depp a hard shoulder check.
"I'm kidding! What, you telling me you wouldn't want a photo?" Depp shot back.
"Nah, I'm good," Tyson said, smirking.
"Spineless ex-champ. I'm disappointed," Depp teased.
"Oh, you got spine? Let's see how tough those bones of yours are!" Tyson growled.
"Help! The beast's gonna eat me!" Depp yelped, dodging.
…
…
The wind carried Luke's parachute westward, until it snagged on the top of a massive tree, leaving him dangling in midair.
Normally, he'd whip out his knife, cut the cords, and shimmy down like it was nothing.
But today? He decided to play it safe and wait for the rescue team.
He was soaked to the bone, shivering like crazy, hands and feet numb from the cold. No need to tempt fate.
Spotting the rescue vehicles racing toward him in the distance, Luke cracked a smile, finally letting himself relax.
Right on cue, golden system text flashed before his eyes:
[Host has completed a B-level high-risk action sequence. Awarded 5 assignable attribute points.]
[This action sequence involved additional complex choreography. Awarded an extra 3 assignable attribute points.]