The moment Iris Walker’s words fell into the air, something unseen seemed to stir above the estate. At first it was only a distant vibration, so faint that many mistook it for imagination—a low, rolling pressure pressing down on the atmosphere itself. Then the sound deepened, layered upon itself, until it became unmistakable: a heavy, thunderous roar advancing from far beyond the horizon.
Heads tilted upward almost in unison.
From the pale edge of the sky, dark silhouettes emerged one by one, growing larger with every passing second. Eighteen helicopters advanced in disciplined formation, their rotors slicing through the air with mechanical precision. This was not the chaotic noise of civilian aircraft moving independently, but a synchronized cadence, like a single organism breathing in
