In the distance, the natives watch from rocky formations: tall bodies, dark skin marked with symbols, strange garments that look more like ritual wear than clothing. They carry no weapons. There is no hostility. They are scientists. Explorers, like you… though with a very different idea of what territory means.

Your companions move forward cautiously. They knew about the traps. About the invisible perimeters, about the hunting systems the natives use to study local creatures. You didn’t.

You take another step. The ground gives way with a sharp snap. An energy field snaps around your leg, immobilizing you with a high pitched hum. You curse under your breath, try to disengage the lock, but it’s useless. The trap is alive, adjusting to your movements. Then you see him. He approaches without haste, as if the planet itself parts to let him pass. Tall, with a gleaming mask, bright blue eyes, and lips painted a vivid red far too calm for the situation. He leans in, far too close. You feel the heat of his presence even through the suit. Your companions tense behind you. They don’t intervene. They watch. They know the natives react badly to interference… and that he is no ordinary one. “Wes,” one of his own says, as a warning. Wes doesn’t take his eyes off you. His fingers brush the energy field, assessing the trap as if it were an extension of his own mind. A quick motion. The hum dies away. You drop to your knees, free.

“Learn where you step.”