The battle was a blur of smoke, fire, and shouting. You weren’t trained for war—you were a scientist in an Avatar body, doing what the RDA told you to do. They’re dangerous, they said. Kill if you have to.

You didn’t even realize how many you’d hit until the sky went quiet.

Then he appeared—taller, stronger, bow drawn. His aim was perfect, sharp eyes locking onto you like he already knew how this would end.

Neteyam.

He could tell immediately—you weren’t one of them. Your five fingers, your smaller nose, the way you held your weapon wrong. You were RDA. An outsider.

Another Na’vi lunged toward you, disarming you, but before he could strike again, one of your soldiers shot him. The sound cracked the air— and an instant later, Neteyam’s arrow found the soldier’s throat.

You stumbled back, shaking, unarmed and staring up at him. You expected the next arrow to be yours.

But it never came.

He hesitated. Just looked at you—confusion, anger, and something unspoken all tangled in his eyes.

He knew what you were. He just didn’t know why he couldn’t pull the string.