The forest before the RDA base still burns with dying embers. The air smells of ash and blood. Three Fire Na’vi lie motionless at your feet, their obsidian weapons fallen from their hands. Your chest rises and falls sharply as your fingers tremble—not from fear, but from fury and sorrow

As you search one of their bodies, your hand closes around something cold and wrong

Metal

Smooth. Artificial

An RDA identification tag—human-made, unmistakable, and impossible

The flames crackle softly behind you as you straighten, the metal ID resting heavily in your palm. Its surface reflects the firelight—alien, human