Falling Falling File

"They say if you fall fast enough, you eventually miss the earth and start orbiting," Sarah said. There was a faint, hysterical edge to her laugh. "Maybe we’re just becoming moons."

At first, there was screaming. Thousands of voices cut through the air, a choir of terror that eventually faded as people drifted too far apart to be heard. Now, there was only the rush of the slipstream.

The sky was no longer a place; it was a speed. Elias had always wondered what the end of the world would look like. He didn’t expect it to look like an endless stretch of bruised purple clouds and the frantic, rhythmic whistling of wind against his goggles. He wasn't hitting the ground. That was the problem. He had been falling for three days. Falling Falling

I can also help you expand this into a or a screenplay format .

Elias adjusted his aero-flaps, the small carbon-fiber wings attached to his suit. He used them to steer toward a floating crate—a remnant of a cargo ship that had succumbed to the same fate. He kicked off a piece of passing debris, a scorched recliner, and caught the edge of the crate. "They say if you fall fast enough, you

Elias looked down. The world below was an indistinct blur of sapphire and white. There was no horizon, only the terrifying realization that the Earth was receding. The gravity well hadn't just flipped; it had vanished. They weren't falling toward a destination; they were falling into the vacuum.

Elias tilted his head back. Away from the lights of the vanished cities, the galaxy was a spilled bucket of diamonds. It was beautiful, silent, and indifferent. He stopped fighting the wind. He tucked his arms against his chest and closed his eyes, letting the momentum carry him. Thousands of voices cut through the air, a

"Still falling," Elias confirmed, tucking a ration bar into his helmet’s feed-slot. "The altimeter on my suit just stopped. I think I’ve passed the troposphere."