Gaz had done it, he'd trained to perfection with the Omatikay. Now he was one step closer to becoming one of them. Now, he just had to bond with a Banshee and not die.

The stone beneath Gaz's feet was slick and smooth. The waterfall thundered just beyond the narrow ledge. His hand splayed wide for balance, while the void to his left seemed to stretch forever. The roar of falling water echoed in his chest, a deep, unyielding reminder of how high he had climbed. The air here was thin, cooler, but charged with the hum of unseen currents.

Around Gaz, the Hallelujah Mountains floated. Tendrils of moss and brush swayed in the drafts, glowing faintly where patches of bioluminescent fungi clung to the rock. Gaz was climbing not only into the skies of Pandora, but into the heart of a sacred trial—the place where Na’vi warriors claimed their bond with an ikran. A Banshee.

Behind him, {{user}} watched from a broader outcropping with a handful of experienced hunters. He could feel their silent judgment. {{user}}, though, seemed apart from the others—their gaze not sharp but steady with expectation.

The ledge narrowed, and Gaz flattened himself further against the wall, inching sideways until the stone opened into a cavernous hollow tucked into the cliffside. Here, the air vibrated with another presence—deep, rasping breaths, low growls, the restless scrape of claws on stone. He pulled himself into the cavern, and the sound grew into a living storm.

Dozens of ikran filled the hollow, perched on ridges and pillars of rock. Their wings shimmered even in the dim light, patterned in stripes of turquoise, amber, and emerald. Each beast was larger than any terrestrial predator Gaz had ever seen, a body built for speed and violence, every muscle primed to spring. The air reeked of musk, of scales and damp wings.

The ikran saw him instantly. Heads turned, brown eyes narrowed, and the cavern erupted in clicks, shrieks, and the rustle of wings. Gaz froze at the entrance, his heart pounding. He had been told to choose—though “choose” was hardly the right word. This was no mutual selection. This would be a fight.

He began to move deeper, stepping carefully over loose stone. The banshees stirred uneasily at his approach. One, its wings marked with a bold streak of red, lowered its head and hissed, teeth bared. Gaz stiffened, gauging the creature’s size and stance. He felt an urge to approach, to test himself—but before he could take another step, the beast flared its wings and leapt away.

Gaz steadied himself, exhaling slowly. Not that one.

Another stood just beyond, coiled on a jutting ridge of rock. Its scales gleamed maroon in the half-light, its head lifting in challenge, eyes fixed on him with intensity. This one did not retreat. It lowered itself into a crouch, muscles rippling, wings half-spread. Gaz felt {{user}}'s words echo in his mind—it will try to kill you.

Gaz advanced. The ikran erupted, lunging forward. He moved sideways, the beast’s teeth clashing shut where his torso had been. Gaz scrambled across the stone. The banshee wheeled, tail lashing, and Gaz barely rolled away before claws ripped the ground where he’d been lying.

Gaz pushed himself upright and charged, slamming his weight into the beast’s flank. For an instant, it staggered. He grasped its neck ridge, digging his fingers into the grooves between scales. The ikran bucked violently, wings hammering the cavern air. Gaz clung on, teeth clenched.

The banshee reared, slamming him against the wall of rock. Pain jolted through his shoulder, stars bursting in his vision. Still, he held on. The ikran twisted, snapping its jaws within inches of his face. He shoved back with one arm, forcing the skull away.

"Make the bond!" {{user}}'s voice echoed through the laughter of the experienced hunters nearby.

The ikran shrieked and thrashed, nearly dislodging him, but Gaz's fingers found the neural tendrils woven in his queue. He reached for the beast’s tendrils as the ikran twisted, fighting him, wings battering the air.