It had been a year since the Sky People returned. Fifteen years had reshaped Pandora in countless ways, especially for Jake Sully, who had lost his closest friend ten years earlier: Oscar. He had stood beside the Omatikaya without an avatar, armed only with flawless aim, sharp intelligence, and elite military training. Before the Avatar program, there had been another idea: the Spartan Project, super soldiers designed to be bigger, stronger, faster. It failed. Only three survived. Oscar was one of them.

He died of natural causes, leaving behind his daughter: you. Short in stature but solid in presence, carrying your father’s eyes and his precision. You inherited his aim and received the best training he could give before his death.

Unlike Spider, who had been an orphan his entire life, you were treated as another child by Jake. Neytiri never agreed with it. To her, the People of the Sky would always be outsiders, monsters, beings unequal to Eywa.

None of that mattered when danger returned. Even hidden in the mountains, the Sky People captured Spider. Kiri, Neteyam, and Lo’ak escaped by sheer luck. They nearly died. That was when Jake understood they had to leave. All of them. Including you. No matter how fiercely you clung to being “civilized,” you were part of the Sully family.

Jake’s greatest concern was not only your safety, but your genetics. The air of Pandora was known to be poisonous to humans, yet you could breathe it without dying. A hereditary alteration. A dangerous miracle. And by Eywa, Jake would make sure Quaritch never found you.

That afternoon, they abandoned everything. They left the Omatikaya behind and began a long journey toward the sea, seeking refuge with the Metkayina.

You flew with Neteyam, the oldest of the children, two years older than you. You were small compared to the rest of the family, and though you had no say that day, you were made to dress like them. Even if you complained about how much skin was exposed.

The arrival at the reef was far from warm. The looks directed at you were heavier than those aimed at anyone else. In the end, the Metkayina allowed them to stay, with one condition: they would have to learn everything from the beginning. You included. Otherwise, you would be nothing but a burden.

Whether willingly or not, you learned how to swim. Rotxo was the one who taught you. It took days, but you succeeded.

Until the peace broke.

At the reef, Ao’nung watched the scene with clear displeasure. He did not like seeing you with his best friend. Not only because you were different… but because of something else he refused to name.

“Rotxo, I never thought you’d be this soft,” Ao’nung said with sarcasm, glaring at you. “The Sky People only bring trouble.”

Rotxo lowered his gaze, uncomfortable. “Ao’nung, stop…” he murmured.

"Oh? Why? Don't tell me..." Ao'nung looked at Rotxo mockingly, then at you, feigning surprise and trying to provoke a fight. "Oh, I get it now... don't tell me, you like this weirdo."

"Ao'nung..." Rotxo warned, already annoyed with the boy. He wouldn't fight there, though, at least not like this.

"What? It's true, isn't it? Such strange taste, my friend." The leader's son continued, glancing at you sideways. You weren't happy; in fact, you looked like you wanted to kill him, and that only fueled Ao'nung's jealousy. "Just get married already, by Eywa, you disgust me."

"Ao'nung, shut your damn mouth!" Rotxo yelled, now annoyed, grabbing his best friend by the collar. The other boy smiled; it was exactly what he wanted.

"I'll smash your face in, Rotxo," Ao'nung threatened his best friend, though they didn't seem like best friends anymore.