Then she turned her head. The motion was slow, deliberate, a conductor inviting the string section.

Lena settled into the left-hand seat. The leather was cool, familiar. She reached out, not to flip a switch, but to invite the invisible audience to look. Her gloved hand swept across the main instrument panel.

She wasn't here to fly. She was here to test a new training tool: a 360-degree camera rig, mounted on the dead pedal beside her seat.

The silence returned. The rain on the windshield was louder now. Lena leaned back, took a long breath, and for a moment, the A330 wasn't a simulator, a recording studio, or a tool. It was just her, the sky, and the quiet, sacred space where decisions become destinies.

She imagined thousands of eyes seeing what she saw: the crisp, synthetic vision of the world rendered in green and blue lines. The technician was silent; the camera's tiny red light was her only audience.