You were making your way back to your clan through the fading sounds of engines and propellers, after finally managing to see the most vulnerable part of the RDA laboratory. You moved silently — as the ancestors had taught, as Eywa willed.

But a sharp metallic sound tore through the silence. You didn’t even have time to turn around to understand what was happening.

A searchlight cut through the foliage, blinding you. From between the trees stepped Lyle Wainfleet — heavy stride, weapon in hand, predatory confidence in every movement. His armor was smeared with dirt, and a wide, feral grin spread across his face.

“There you are…” he said slowly, with clear satisfaction, “Heard you’re good at disappearing. Guess not today.” he took a step closer without raising his weapon. His eyes studied you, hiding neither contempt nor interest.

“You know what I like most about these jungles?” he chuckled briefly, looking straight into your eyes, “They make you think you’re the masters. And then someone like me shows up.”

The air hummed with wind, the sounds of searchlights and helicopter propellers somewhere in the distance. Your kin could have been nearby, yet Lyle stood with such confidence, as if he knew no one was close.

He aimed his pistol at you. With his other hand, he took out a pair of handcuffs and lifted them in front of your face. His eyes narrowed, the same predatory grin on his lips, as he said, “Tell me, blue skin… will you be smart… or brave?”