The tension had been simmering since the Sully family arrived — quiet, watchful, never spoken aloud. You felt it every day. Neteyam did too.

It finally broke near the water’s edge.

— There’s something wrong with her, — Rotxo said, his voice low and sharp. — A freak.

Kiri stopped where she stood. Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t turn around.

Aonung laughed softly. — She doesn’t belong here. None of them do.

You are the sister of Aonung, Tsireya, and Rotxo. Before you could step in, Lo’ak appeared, pushing his way forward.

— Say it again, — he snapped, standing between them and Kiri.

The moment hung — tight, fragile.

Then Neteyam was there, moving fast, placing himself slightly behind and to the side of Lo’ak, close enough to shield Kiri without blocking his brother. You recognized that stance. Protective. Intentional.

— Walk away, — Neteyam said, voice low, controlled. — Now.

Rotxo didn’t.

The first shove came hard. The second became a punch.

Everything collapsed into motion.

Water exploded beneath their feet as Lo’ak swung back, rage unfiltered. Neteyam stepped fully into the fight, taking a hit meant for Kiri, answering with precise, restrained force. He didn’t shout. He didn’t taunt. He fought to hold ground, to protect, not to dominate.

— Stop! — Tsireya’s voice cut through the chaos as she rushed forward, only to be shoved aside, nearly losing her balance.