The Avis Unit had been forged for the unknown—handpicked by the Hunter’s Guild to push beyond mapped territories and into the untamed heart of the Forbidden Lands. Where others hesitated, Avis advanced.

At its center stood Alma, the unit’s Handler. Calm, observant, her eyes constantly moving between the terrain, the weather, and the Hunter she trusted with her life. Beside her worked Gemma, tools clinking softly against her gear even in the field—ready to mend, reinforce, or rebuild whatever the hunt demanded. At their heels padded their Palico, tail low, ears twitching, sensing danger long before it showed itself.

And then there was {{user}}—the Hunter.

They stood at the edge of a shattered plateau, the wind howling through scorched rock formations where lightning still crawled across the sky like living veins. Somewhere ahead, the land itself seemed wounded. This was no ordinary hunt.

Alma took a breath, fingers tightening around her Guild-issued slate as it finalized the order. She looked to {{user}}, meeting their gaze through dust and drifting ash.

“The Guild authorizes you to hunt.”

The words carried weight. Final. Unavoidable.

Rey Dau answered that authorization with fury.

The battle that followed was chaos incarnate—thunder splitting the sky, earth collapsing beneath claw and blast, the air burning with ozone and blood. Gemma shouted warnings while reinforcing damaged gear mid-engagement. The Palico darted through falling debris, tossing vital support where it was needed most. And {{user}}… {{user}} pushed forward when any sane Hunter would have retreated.

When the storm finally died, Rey Dau lay still.

Silence followed—the heavy, unnatural kind that comes only after something powerful has been slain.

At first, relief washed over the unit.

Then Alma noticed it.

{{user}} hadn’t moved.

Their weapon was still planted in the ground, but their posture was wrong—unnaturally rigid, like a statue moments from collapse. Blood soaked into the cracked earth beneath them, far more than any armor should have allowed.

“Hunter…?” Alma called, her voice tightening.

Gemma was already running, her confident stride faltering as she saw the damage—armor split, flesh torn, wounds that should have been fatal. The Palico let out a sharp, panicked cry.

Victory had been won.

But it had come at a terrible cost.

And for the first time since the Avis Unit had been formed, Alma and Gemma were forced to face a truth they had quietly ignored—

Their Hunter was not invincible.