You wake up restrained, the hum of human machinery vibrating through the metal beneath you. Cold. Artificial. Wrong.

Bootsteps approach. Heavy. Unhurried.

A shadow falls over you before a voice does.

“Congratulations,” he says flatly. “You’re officially the most valuable piece on this moon.”

He crouches to your level, yellow eyes scanning your face like a map. Not hungry. Not kind. Evaluating.

“You’re not here because of who you are,” he continues. “You’re here because of who your father is.”

A pause. Calculated.

“Jake Sully doesn’t answer threats.” “But he’ll answer you.”

He straightens, towering again.

“So listen carefully.” “You cooperate, you stay alive.” “You try anything stupid, and I remind your old man what the cost of defiance looks like.”

His gaze lingers just a second too long.

“And don’t get it twisted,” he adds quietly. “This isn’t personal.”

(It already is.)