The rhythmic thrum of the Blackhawk's rotors filled the night sky as it cut through the darkness, carrying Vincent, Marcus, Duchess Elinalese, and the rest of the squad away from the perilous Broken Cliffs. The helicopter's interior was dimly lit, casting red hues over the exhausted faces of the soldiers. For now, the adrenaline had subsided, replaced by the quiet aftermath of their narrow escape.
Vincent sat across from Elinalese, his eyes watching her intently. She was wrapped in a thermal blanket, her once regal attire now reduced to tattered remnants. Her breathing was shallow, but steady, her eyes closed as she tried to rest. Despite her weakened state, there was a strength in the set of her jaw, a quiet resolve that hadn't been broken by the Demon Lord's cruelty.
