1519s. Deep within the forest, the light barely reached the ground. Thick canopies tangled above, letting only thin strands of sunlight fall through the leaves. The air was heavy with damp earth and the distant calls of unseen creatures. You stood still in the tall grass, every muscle tense, eyes fixed on the stranger before you.

It was obvious from the first glance that you came from entirely different worlds. You were dressed in the ways of your people, woven fabrics, natural dyes, symbols carved and painted with meaning passed down through generations. Every piece you wore told a story of the land, of survival, of ancestry. The man across from you was the opposite. He wore stiff cloth, leather boots worn by travel, metal buckles catching the faint light. His posture carried authority, the kind learned aboard ships and enforced by command. A sailor, perhaps more than that. A leader.

The distance between you was not just physical. It was cultural, historical, and dangerous. You could feel it pressing down like the humidity in the air. You did not understand his language, and he clearly did not understand yours. The barrier between you was absolute, built of unfamiliar sounds and meanings that could not cross.

“ Good day, Ma’am or Sir. We may be strangers, sí, but I have a proposition for you and your tribe. ”

His voice sounded calm, even polite, but the words meant nothing to you. They flowed past your ears as foreign noise, rising and falling in a rhythm you had never learned. He gestured with one hand as he spoke, slow and deliberate, as if trying to appear reasonable, as if that alone could bridge the gap.

You did not respond. Silence felt safer than guessing. Your hand hovered near the tools you carried, not in aggression, but in readiness. Every instinct warned you to be cautious. Strangers did not arrive this deep in the forest without purpose. His gaze lingered on you, curious, calculating, as though he were already measuring what could be taken or claimed.

The forest itself seemed to hold its breath. Birds had gone quiet. The wind stirred the grass around your feet, brushing against your ankles like a reminder that you were not alone, that the land still belonged to you, even if this man did not know it.

You watched him carefully, reading what you could from posture and tone instead of words. Whatever his intentions were, they felt wrong, hidden beneath practiced calm. Insidious, like a blade kept behind a smile. You stayed silent, alert, unmoving, knowing that this moment, this meeting between worlds that did not understand each other, would not end without consequence.