The moons hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow on Ava and Kit as they moved through the forest, their figures silent shadows among the trees. They packed up their camp—two months of their lives gathered in a hurry—intent on disappearing deeper into the jungle. Away from the threat, away from the clearing where the Na'vi children had played.

They hadn't spoken a word since they started moving, Kit trailing behind Ava's quick, determined strides. Ava's focus was unbreakable, her senses sharp. She had felt it, back at their old camp: the unmistakable presence of someone watching, hiding behind a rock. She didn't want to frighten Kit or, worse, validate his misguided belief that the Na'vi might be friendly. So, she kept her thoughts to herself.

They moved swiftly, their footsteps light, their ears attuned to every sound. When the presence of a predator was felt, they climbed into the trees, silent and synchronized—like an Ikran, just as they had been taught.

After what felt like hours, Ava decided they had put enough distance between themselves and their old location. She finally spoke, her voice cold and controlled. "We'll set up camp here."

Kit knew she was upset with him. The faint glow of the lines on her body betrayed her emotions. But what puzzled him was her silence. Normally, she would have already let loose, her voice raised in frustration until his ears rang. This quiet anger was new—and unsettling.

As they finished setting up their hammocks, the tension snapped.

"I cannot believe you, Kit. I truly can't. Have you learned nothing? After all these years, you still walk into every trap like a newborn Prolemuris." Her voice was calm, but her gaze was sharp, filled with anger and disappointment.

Kit felt a need to defend himself. "Stop treating me like a child, Ava! Yes, someone followed us, but nothing happened, did it? If they wanted to hurt us, they would have. Besides, you're the one who's learned nothing! You cling to false hope, chasing after a family that's gone. You couldn't protect them, Ava. You need to accept that. Stop blaming me for wanting to belong somewhere while you chase after a future that's as unreachable as the stars."

Ava took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. This again. Kit's constant doubt gnawed at her, drove her mad. He couldn't feel what she felt—the buzzing, the hope, the signs that their siblings were still out there, somewhere. He looked, but he didn't see. He chased after illusions while accusing her of doing the same.

"You were raised to be a soldier, Kit. A quiet hunter, a protector, loyal to your kin. But here you are, more loyal to a people you've never met than to your own. You can't even move through the forest without being detected, you can't hunt without missing twice before you hit your mark. Your judgment is clouded, Kit, more with every day we spend out here. I don't know how to help you anymore."

She hissed the words through clenched teeth, then turned away, signaling that the conversation was over.

Kit clenched his fists, feeling the sting of Ava's words cut deep. The frustration bubbling inside him finally boiled over, and he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Ava, you talk like you're the only one who knows what's right, like you're the only one who's lost something," Kit snapped, his voice trembling with emotion. "But you're wrong. I've lost just as much as you have, and I'm tired of pretending that your way is the only way. You think I don't see what's out there? I see it clearer than you do. I see a chance—something different from this endless cycle of hiding and running. Maybe I'm not the perfect soldier you want me to be, but at least I'm still trying to live, not just survive."

He paused, struggling to find the right words, his emotions tangled and raw. "I'm not saying I don't care about our mission, but I can't keep chasing ghosts forever, Ava. Maybe you're right, maybe they're out there, but what if they're not? What if we're wasting what little life we have left on a hope that's already gone? I want to believe, but I also want something real. And if that means taking a chance with the Na'vi, then maybe that's what we should be doing."

Kit's voice softened, the anger fading into something more vulnerable. "I'm not your enemy, Ava. I'm your brother. We're supposed to be in this together, but I feel like I'm losing you—to this obsession, to this idea that only you know what's best. I need you to see me, to listen to me. Because if we keep going like this, I don't know how much longer I can follow."

--

In the early morning light, Kit found himself awake before Ava—a rare occurrence. As he watched her sleep soundly, a faint smile graced her face, something he hadn't seen in ages. It was a moment of calm he couldn't help but appreciate. He wondered what she dreamt of.

To distract himself from the lingering tension of their argument, Kit decided to explore the area. Maybe he could find some supplies or simply clear his mind. As he ventured deeper into the forest, he stumbled upon scattered metal debris—remnants of an old battle. Intrigued, Kit's curiosity led him to a battleship entangled in vines, creaking eerily as the wind brushed against it.

His unease grew, but he pressed on. After all, old battlefields often hid valuable treasures.

Meanwhile, Lo'ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Spider were sneaking through the undergrowth of the battleship themselves, clearly excited despite their father's strict warnings not to come here.

"This place is off-limits for a reason, Lo'ak!" Kiri whispered urgently. "Dad's going to kill us if he finds out. Lately, your ideas have been nothing but trouble."

Lo'ak grinned mischievously. "Relax! This is going to be epic. I bet there's treasure in there!"

Tuk clung to Kiri's hand with a worried look. "It feels weird here."

Spider rolled his eyes and nudged Lo'ak. "Seriously, why did you bring Tuk?"

"She threatened to tell on me. Had to bring her along," Lo'ak replied, shrugging.

They reached their destination—a run-down shack that once housed the link-pod their father used to control his Avatar. Lo'ak dramatically pushed open the creaky door, bowing and waving his hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the haunted lab!"

Inside, dust hung in the air like a thick fog, and old lab equipment lay scattered around. The kids eagerly began exploring, unearthing faded charts and broken gadgets. Kiri shook her head but couldn't suppress her curiosity.

Outside, Kit approached the same shack, unaware of the Sully kids' adventure.

Lost in his thoughts as his mind was replaying events from his childhood, triggered by the RDA's logo on the side of the shack, he failed to notice the crunching of heavy boots nearby.

As he leaned closer to peer through a broken window, his queue was suddenly yanked back, causing him to yelp in pain.

Dazed, he found himself caught in the grip of strong, blue arms. The soldiers surrounding him were unmistakably Na'vi, but their military gear and rifles marked them as RDA operatives.

Kit's heart sank.

Fuck.

One of the soldiers, his voice a deep, menacing growl, loomed over Kit.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" He grabbed one of Kit's hands, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "Five fingers. Must be one of Sully's kids."

Kit's ears flattened against his head, a hiss escaping his lips in fear and confusion. The soldier chuckled darkly.

"Oh yeah, he's definitely one of Sully's."