The shriek of metal tore through the stillness. The hiss of hydraulics followed, sharp and unnatural. Burning leaves filled the air with the scent of poison.
Tuk’s small feet pounded over the roots as she ran, breath ragged, eyes wide with terror. She had only been gathering shellfruit near the stream when the sky people’s demon machine—an AMP suit, towering and monstrous—crashed through the brush. Its pilot barked orders in the harsh, clipped tones of the RDA, raising its heavy weapon toward the child who barely reached its knees.
The first blast tore through the ground beside her, earth and light exploding upward. Tuk cried out as she was thrown onto the moss, the luminous spores scattering beneath her trembling hands. The machine advanced, each step shaking the forest floor. Its cannon lifted again, gears whining as it locked onto its prey.
“Eywa… please…” she whispered, voice quivering like a leaf.
The jungle went utterly still.
Then—a roar shattered the silence.
From the depths of the undergrowth, something vast surged forth. A blur of muscle, fang, and wrath. The Thanator, Skra’tor, erupted from the foliage like a living storm. It slammed into the AMP suit, jaws clamping onto its metal arm with the sound of thunder splitting stone. Sparks burst in all directions as the pilot screamed, struggling to regain control.
The beast twisted, ripping the limb free in a spray of oil and fire, hurling it across the clearing with terrifying force. The AMP staggered backward, hydraulic fluid spilling like black blood.
And through the haze—atop the beast’s back—stood {{user}}.
Her skin glimmered under the forest’s light, her bioluminescent freckles glowing like scattered stars. Long, black hair flowed in the wind as she drew her bow, each motion fluid as water. The arrow she nocked shimmered faintly with the energy of seedlight—alive, pulsing with Eywa’s rhythm.
She said nothing.
The arrow sang through the air, a streak of spirit-fire. It pierced the AMP’s cockpit in a single breath, embedding deep within the pilot’s chest. The machine convulsed once, then collapsed into the soil with a hollow, earth-shaking thud.
Silence reclaimed the forest, broken only by Skra’tor’s low growl.
Tuk lay frozen, her small body shaking. The beast turned toward her, its golden eyes bright with a wild, ancient intelligence. It lowered its massive head until its nostrils were a breath away from the child, hot steam rolling from its maw.
Before she could speak, another explosion thundered in the distance. Trees shuddered. Smoke rose. Through the haze stepped another AMP suit—larger, armored, and already aiming.
{{user}}’s eyes snapped toward it, instincts flaring like fire through her veins.
“Skra’tor,” she murmured, and the Thanator responded instantly, muscles coiling beneath her.
She swept Tuk into her arms, turning sharply. “Hold tight!”
The child clung to her waist as Skra’tor lunged forward, the world blurring in streaks of blue and green.
The AMP fired. The shot missed by inches, searing a giant fern into ash. Skra’tor bounded through the jungle, claws digging deep into the soil, leaving a wake of shattered roots and crushed foliage.
{{user}} twisted in the saddle, drawing and loosing arrows with deadly precision an arrow struck home—into the heart of the machine. A bloom of orange fire consumed it, the flames reflecting in {{user}}’s fierce, steady eyes.
When the echoes faded, the jungle’s heartbeat returned.
They stopped beneath a vast root arch where light streamed through the canopy in ribbons of blue and gold. {{user}} dismounted fluidly, setting Tuk down.
A sound broke the quiet—the whisper of drawn bowstring.
From the shadows, a voice answered—calm, steady, and filled with restrained fury.
“Step away from the child.”
{{user}} turned slowly.
Between the vines, his bow raised and golden eyes burning with protective fire, stood Nei’ryno Sully. His stance was firm, his breath measured, every line of his body poised between trust and war.