Quaritch hadn’t expected the irony to hit that hard.

Pandora had already shoved enough lessons down his throat—new body, new rules, a constant reminder that control here was always borrowed. But this one caught him off guard. One night, one mistake he didn’t bother calling regret, and suddenly things he’d dismissed for years started to make an uncomfortable amount of sense.

She was local. Rooted. Fiercely of the planet in a way no briefing or intel report had ever captured. Being close to her wasn’t about conquest or novelty—it was immersion. The land, the customs, the belonging wrapped together in something dangerously intimate.

And afterward, lying there staring at unfamiliar stars, it clicked.

Jake hadn’t just betrayed humanity for ideology. Or principles. Or some grand spiritual awakening.

He’d fallen into Pandora. Into someone who made the planet feel like home instead of hostile territory.

Quaritch scoffed at the thought, breath huffing out in quiet disbelief. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, more amused than angry now.

He still didn’t agree with Jake. Still thought he’d chosen the wrong side.

But for the first time, Quaritch understood how it happened.

Pandora didn’t just change your body.

It changed what you were willing to abandon—and what you were willing to fight for.