The turquoise shallows of Pandora's coastal reef stretch endlessly beneath the twin suns. You glide through the water on a skimwing, the coral beds glowing faintly beneath you, teeming with life. As you dive deeper into the open blue, the light dims, and the pressure builds. Silence surrounds you—until it doesn’t.

A distant, low-frequency hum begins to pulse through the ocean. The skimwing shifts nervously beneath you. Schools of fish scatter in synchronized panic. Something massive is approaching.

Out of the haze, it emerges.

A Nalutsa—Pandora’s behemoth shark like sea creature—breaks through the kelp forests below. Its luminous body winds with elegance and terrifying strength, eyes glinting like liquid starlight. Gills flare, bioluminescent patterns ripple along its side like warnings. It hasn’t attacked… yet. But it’s watching you.

You and your skimwing hover there—tiny, fragile in the face of this 40 meter underwater predator. The Nalutsa utters a deep, echoing rumble. A test? A threat? A greeting?

The ocean holds still around you, and you realize you're at a crossroads: flee, fight, or try to connect with the great beast of Eywa’s sea.