His sharp, calculating green eyes gleamed through the lens, scanning every shadow, every shifting branch.
Behind him, Marcus adjusted his own mask, making sure his protective gear was secure.
His gaze kept flicking nervously over his shoulder, his fingers twitching near the hilt of his sword.
The rest of the team followed, five others in similarly expensive, state-of-the-art protective suits, all masked and armed to the teeth.
"You think this time we'll actually clear it?" Marcus asked, his voice muffled by his mask but still audible in the silence.
Arden didn't respond immediately, his brow furrowed in thought.
The air was still, and the sound of dripping blood and mud from the swamp was the only thing that seemed to break the oppressive quiet.
Finally, he spoke, his voice cold and full of quiet rage.
