SWISH—
A sound of a flying craft piercing through the air echoed from the deep pit.
The heavy gray fog lingering over the swamp split apart, and several fully-armed figures emerged.
"We're definitely in the right place."
The man leading the group unfastened his protective face mask to reveal a handsome, mature face. His short hair was a leaden gray color, and his calm eyes conveyed a sense of reliability and determination.
The short-haired man squinted into the depths of the pit, quickly issuing orders to a companion, "X and I will go down to take a look; the rest of you stay here, ready to provide support at any moment."
"Yes, sir."
The protective mask on the short-haired man's face clicked back into place. He signaled, and he and the designated companion began to descend into the pit.
The rest of the group stood at the edge of the pit, watching as the two figures slowly disappeared into the gray fog.
