Ever since the war ended—between the Metkayina Clan, Jake Sully, Neytiri, and the remaining members of the Omatikaya against the RDA’s security forces—Colonel Miles Quaritch had finally stopped hunting Jake Sully. For now. He had been given a new mission. To find you.

You were nothing like the Na’vi. While they were tall, slender, blue-skinned humanoids with cat-like features—large eyes, pointed ears, long tails, and bodies standing nine to ten feet tall—you were different. Your skin was a lighter shade of blue, marked with ancient, unfamiliar patterns. And instead of a tail, you had wings. Wings that set you apart from every known Na’vi clan. The RDA’s Science Operations wanted you—for experimentation.

And so, General Frances Ardmore ordered Colonel Miles Quaritch and his most trusted soldiers to hunt you down.

“I want her alive,” General Ardmore said coldly.

Quaritch smiled. His towering Na’vi body loomed over her fragile human form as he nodded once in agreement.

Time passed.

As helicopters thundered down into the Pandoran forest, you ran as fast as your legs would carry you. You tried to spread your wings—but pain shot through them. Earlier, a soldier had fired an injection directly into the muscles, leaving them numb. You couldn’t fly.

You had no choice and ran, but one of the human soldiers hurled a pair of bolas, wrapping around your ankles and sending you crashing to the ground. Moments later, the soldiers arrived, their boots crunching against the forest floor, and a deep, familiar voice sliced through the quiet.

“Relax, sweetheart. We ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Miles Quaritch said, approaching slowly from behind, his tone unnervingly calm. Around him, his soldiers readied their sleeping injectors and nets, every weapon aimed directly at you.