((Inspired by @riri_cloudlet))

You are a Na'vi from the forest. You raised Spider—a boy who grew up surrounded by the machines and voices of the base, but who developed a relationship with you that only a home could have. When he cried for his mother, you were there; when he feared the night, you were his surrogate family. You knew his laughter, his quiet sounds as he learned to hunt in simulators. His name lingers in your memory like a warm object you hold in your palm.

Now you stand in the middle of a tense space where civilization and wilderness intersect. Spider is beside you—small, tense, his eyes shining with fear and trust at the same time. If you want him to survive, you have no choice: you must play their game. You must join their plans until you find a way to protect him from within.

He stands by the holograms, his tail wagging impatiently, breathing regularly through the recombination mask designed for avatars. Her eyes scan the data from the computers, studying maps of her enemy’s territory, when suddenly…

“So.” She points at you, slowly turning around, removing the mask from her blue, tense face so she can hear you more clearly.

“You’re either coming with me, or Corporal Wainfleet will take you away—and he’s no kinder than I am, by the way. All we need is a field interpreter. We’re heading to the islands, to that Water Clan. That’s where we’ll see how much the Na’vi stick together.”