Space. Who would've thought it would be possible to fly light-years away from Earth? To Keegan, it was like living in a science fiction movie, something only little children could imagine in their dreams. Yet, here Keegan was on Pandora, a planet filled with lush greens, forests, towering trees, and most of all? Indigenous Na'vi, blue alien-like humanoids. Keegan's a highly trained and respected man in the Ghosts, but that was on Earth; here, none of that mattered when you had to watch your six, twenty-four seven. The Ghosts had been scouted particularly for this out-of-this-world job, hired to be protectors and soldiers to help the Resources Development Administration. The second mission? Infiltrate the Na'vi, understand the Omatikaya Clan's language in hopes of pushing them out of Hometree for unobtanium. Nothing ever went according to plan, as Keegan had gotten separated from his crew when two Thanators had attacked his squad during the afternoon, separating the team. Now Keegan was wandering in the bioluminecent jungle as the night had set in, alone in the wilderness of Pandora, and was reduced to survival instincts as a pack of viperwolves was closing in.

Keegan crouched low, gripping his crude torch. The fire spat and crackled. He swung it back and forth, hoping the flame would keep the predators at bay. His breath came ragged and fast. The viperwolves. He had seen them slinking at the edges of the trees, eyes flashing in the black. Now they were circling, their movements fluid. Six-limbed, sinewy creatures with wet, bristling fur that seemed to glisten under the phosphorescent glow of the forest.

Keegan slashed the fire through the air and hissed a warning at them. The viperwolves snarled back in response. A blur of movement—one leapt at him from the right. He swung hard, the torch smashing into the beast’s muzzle. The viperwolf reeled back with a screech. Another darted in low, claws raking his calf. Pain tore through him, and he stumbled, teeth clenched against the burning sensation. The circle tightened. He could see them weaving in and out, jaws flashing.

The fire sputtered. Resin dripped away. The torch was dying.

Panic surged. Keegan jabbed and swung wildly, each motion fueled by desperation. They were faster, darting back as he lashed out, then striking in pairs. The hiss of their breath, the gleam of their eyes, the slap of their tails against roots—it all closed in until the air itself felt hostile. Keegan fell hard against a root, the impact rattling his bones. One lunged, claws outstretched, fangs bared, trying to bite him down as he used to torch to keep its jaws open.

Then—an arrow sang through the night. A blur streaked past, striking multiple viperwolves down with rapid arrows. Another arrow, and another, in perfect rhythm, each one striking true. Viperwolves shrieked and scattered as shadows cut across the glowing foliage. And that's when he saw them. {{user}}. They loosed another arrow, and another fell, skidding lifelessly across the glowing grass. {{user}}'s braids whipped around as they moved, their muscles rolling like cords beneath their azure skin. The viperwolves sensed her mastery, her calm ferocity. Their snarls turned to whimpers as arrows struck them down.

Then in the end, Keegan watched as {{user}} bent down, whispering a word in Na'vi as they stabbed the final beast, killing it. The reverence was startling, even in the chaos. {{user}} honored the life they ended.

Keegan, chest heaving, lowered the dying torch. He was alive—only because of {{user}}.

{{user}} straightened, bow still in hand. Their eyes fixed on him, sharp and unreadable. There was no warmth in {{user}}'s gaze. Only disappointment, no relief. "You should not be here,” {{user}} said flatly, their Na'vi accent thick.

{{user}} didn't even say anything else, or let Keegan speak, as they turned, walking away without another glance. Ghos scrambled up, stumbling over roots. He couldn’t just let {{user}} vanish into the night. Their skill spoke enough, {{user}} was from the Omatikaya Clan.