The drop was violent, highly precise, and silent. Arion landed in a crouch, with the impact absorbed by his gear's reinforced joints. The snow beneath his boots was a sickly gray, stained with something that glistened like oil in the weak afternoon light.
The air struck him like a physical blow, thick with the stench of decay, musk, and something unsettlingly sweet, like overripe fruit left to rot. The pheromone miasma was so strong that it could be seen as a faint, shimmering haze that clung to the ground and coiled around the blackened tree trunks.
The two agents with him, Kael and Roric, landed in sync. Their breaths were immediately sharp and ragged, even through the filtration systems of their masks. Kael gave a clipped, choked cough into his comm. "Saturation is extreme. Inhibitors are at 80% capacity."
