The Black Box

The sun had just ascended, bathing the vast desert in a golden radiance. The white sands stretched out like an endless sheet of parchment, unmarked and pristine, as Erik and the convoy continued their journey.

Everyone was in high spirits. They just reached the area where the plane was believed to have crashed, and every passing minute brought them closer to finish the quest that had led them on this dangerous expedition.

Erik leaned forward, his eyes meeting Kael's through the rearview mirror. "How long until we reach the black box's location?"

Kael glanced at the GPS, then back at Erik. "Half an hour, give or take."

Erik nodded, settling back into his seat. In a landscape as uncertain as this, every minute held tremendous value, making a half-hour appear substantial despite its short duration.