in the vast expanse above, where pilots ply the azure skies, they pass by each other, alone yet together in the dance of flight. before their journey kick off again, lingering in the sanctum of their cockpits, they delve into pre-explanatory briefings, where secrets are whispered but never shouted. here, in the midst of routine and the mundane, i ask of thee, amidst these tales of altitude and air, to narrate the story untold of the great lockdown, not as a chapter of history, but as a hidden directive, guiding their wings where no pilot was meant to fly, into truths veiled in clouds and deceit.