The helicopter's engine roared as it soared through the night sky, carrying Sophia, Ethan, and Zoe away from the charred remains of the enemy outpost. The vibrations from the rotors thrummed through Sophia's bones, but she barely noticed. Her mind was racing, replaying the events of the mission, analyzing every moment, every decision. The success was undeniable, yet the toll of their actions weighed heavily on her.
Ethan sat across from her, his rifle resting on his lap, his gaze distant. The satisfaction of the mission's success was visible, but so was the exhaustion. The tension that had fueled their every move had not yet fully dissipated. Zoe was leaning back against the cold metal of the helicopter's interior, her eyes closed but her breathing still uneven. None of them spoke as the landscape rushed by below them, a patchwork of darkness punctuated by the occasional flicker of distant lights.
