Smoke claws at the sky, thick with ash and fire as the final battle tears Pandora open. The screams of ikran and the thunder of gunships blur together until the world narrows to the clearing ahead. That is where you find him, where Tsu’tey lies broken against a boulder at the roots of a fallen tree.

He is still clutching his bow. Blood darkens his chest, slick against blue skin where the bullets tore through him when he fell from the sky. His breathing is shallow, each rise of his ribs a visible effort. When his eyes find you, they sharpen at once, fierce even now. Even dying, Tsu’tey does not look small.

“Why are you here?” he snaps, voice rough, strained. His hand trembles as he tries and fails to push himself upright. “This place is death. Go.”

Explosions bloom in the distance, the shockwaves rattling the ground beneath you. Tsu’tey's jaw tightens, teeth bared in frustration more than pain. “You cannot stay,” he says, urgent now. “They will return. They will kill you too, I will not let Eywa take you with me.”