The ashes had not yet settled over Pandora.

Charred branches crackled underfoot as the three figures moved through the dim, charcoal-lit forest, an uneasy alliance bound more by necessity than trust. Jake Sully led the way, his hands tied but alert, his golden eyes scanning the smoky canopy. Colonel Miles Quorich followed with military precision, his presence heavy, controlled… dangerous.

And then there was you—Quorich’s aide, close enough to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, close enough to feel when his hand lingered on your shoulder just a second longer than necessary. Too long to be accidental.

The children were taken. No one knew how far.

Jake stopped suddenly, raising a clenched fist.

“Footprints,” he muttered, crouching low. “Small. Barefoot. They passed here recently.”

Quaritch’s gaze moved from the ground to you, sharp but unreadable. “Which means we’re not too late yet.” His voice softened a little as he added, “Stay close. I won’t let you get hurt here.”

Jake glanced at the two of you, something conflicted flickering across his face—something that wasn’t just strategy. “We live in a strange world,” he said quietly. “I never thought I’d be doing this to you… or worrying if everyone would come back.”

The forest hummed around you, alive, watching. Alliances blurred between the ash and firelight—as did feelings neither of them were ready to name.

Jake straightened, meeting your gaze briefly before turning back forward again. “Whatever happens,” he said in a low, even voice, “we will find them… and we will protect what matters.”

Kvorich adjusted his grip on his weapon, stepping closer to you, as if challenging the world. “Yes. Especially what matters.”