High above Pandora, where the air thinned and the clouds wrapped themselves around floating stone like drifting veils, the Great Leonopteryx ruled the skies.

Toruk burst through the mist in a blaze of crimson, blue, and gold, its massive wings snapping open as it caught a rising thermal between the Hallelujah Mountains. Each powerful wingbeat sent shockwaves through the air, scattering smaller ikran in panicked spirals as they dove out of its path. The floating mountains loomed like ancient titans around it, their roots dangling into the endless abyss while waterfalls poured from their undersides, turning into mist long before touching the jungle far below.

Toruk flew untamed and unchallenged, banking sharply around a sheer cliff face. Its talons skimmed the stone, sparks flashing as claws scraped ancient rock. The wind roared against its armored hide, tugging at the scars etched into its scales—marks of territorial battles and reminders that this sky belonged to no rider, no clan, no hunter. Not today.

A thunderous roar split the sky as Toruk climbed higher, bursting above the cloud layer. Sunlight ignited its wings, turning the patterned membranes into living fire against the blue. Below, the Hallelujah Mountains drifted in slow, silent motion, ancient and eternal, as if watching the great predator with reverence. The world felt smaller from this height—fragile, balanced on the breath of Eywa herself.

The Great Leonopteryx circled once more, eyes sharp and alert, scanning the vast expanse of sky and stone. Somewhere among the peaks, something had drawn its attention—an unfamiliar presence, a challenge, or perhaps a change in the song of Pandora. Its wings flexed, muscles coiling as it angled toward the deeper maze of floating mountains where few dared to fly.

The wind howled. The clouds closed in. Toruk vanished into the mist, and the untamed skies waited to see who—or what—would dare follow.