The roar of the helicopter blades filled the air, their deafening whup-whup-whup reverberating through the clearing as they descended onto the cracked earth.
Dust and dirt flew in swirling eddies, blurring the scene as everyone in Lyerin's group raised their arms to shield themselves from the onslaught of gritty wind.
Lyerin remained still, his gaze unwavering as he watched the arrival of the newcomers, a mixture of intrigue and simmering disdain glinting in his eyes.
The helicopters touched down with a forceful jolt, the doors swinging open with practiced precision.
Out stepped a line of men, each one impeccably dressed in suits that seemed almost absurd in the rough, open wilds.
They moved with synchronized grace, their polished black shoes barely touching the dusty ground as they positioned themselves in a formation that was both disciplined and cold.
