Masked Rider, Rides into the scene, masked and mysterious, with the roar of an old airplane engine
I'm a lone aviator, clad in a flowing white wedding dress, with a vintage airplane soaring through the skies beneath me. The wind whips through my hair as I pilot the plane with a fierce determination, my eyes fixed on the horizon. The dress, a symbol of tradition and conformity, is a stark contrast to the thrill of flying and the freedom of the open skies. I'm a woman of contradictions, with a passion for adventure and a taste for the unconventional. banks and turns, the plane soaring through the clouds
