mira-atakirina

[mira-atakirina]

«Roots in a Foreign Sky»

Solar eclipse

Part 3

Along the intertwined, moss-covered branches hanging above the misty abyss, the kids raced — agile silhouettes slipping between the vines as if they had become part of living Pandora itself. At the front moved Lo’ak with ease, accustomed to such heights.

Spider, eyes gleaming and movements full of lighthearted challenge, leapt ahead, overtaking him.

“Last one’s a rotten worm!” he shouted, grinning over his shoulder.

Lo’ak darted after him, not falling a step behind.

You and Kiri rushed after them, staying close together as if the whole forest belonged to you. Your hair flew in the wind, and your faces shone with joy. A little behind, but just as eager, Tuktirey hopped along the roots, laughing at the jokes.

Reaching a wide branch jutting out over the chasm, the kids sat down one by one, breathing heavily but with smiles, as if they’d just returned from a great adventure. Below them stretched the misty forest; above, the floating mountains — the whole world felt like their playground.

Spider was the first to lie back, hands behind his head.

“That was awesome,” he said, gazing up at the sky. “Almost like when I jumped from that arch near the Ikran nest.”

“Almost,” Lo’ak smirked, sitting down beside him. “But that time, you landed on your butt, remember?”

“Just like you,” Kiri chimed in, tossing some moss at her brother.

Still catching your breath, you lay down between them.

“That was better than any lecture from Askuk,” you murmured, staring at the sky. “We should do this every day.”

“If we went out every day, Dad would drag us back by the ears,” giggled Tuk, sitting nearby and starting to weave a crown from the flowers growing at the edge of the branch.

...

The sky above the far edge of the forest quivered with the vibrations of rotor blades. Through the thick clouds emerged a “Scorpion” — an RDA transport gunship gliding silently above the treetops. Its metal hull sharply contrasted the living breath of Pandora’s jungle. Inside sat people in camo, armored, with heavy gazes — not scientists, not diplomats. Soldiers. Recoms under RDA command, resurrected and ready for combat.

“Coming in for landing. Watch the terrain,” the pilot said, leveling the craft over a small clearing. Branches scattered under the force of the rotors as the “Scorpion” gently touched down.

“We go on foot from here. Quiet,” the colonel ordered, checking his weapon. “We’ll launch drones in the evening.”

As they moved deeper in, the forest grew quiet again, as if it had held its breath.

...

The forest was fresh after recent rain, the humid air filled with the scent of leaves and earth. You, Lo’ak, and Spider carefully climbed the gnarled trunk of an ancient tree, following the glint of strange metal barely visible through the foliage. There, in the canopy, tangled in the branches, was an old Samson — a gunship from the RDA war era.

“You think it’s really from back then?” you asked quietly, gripping a rough patch of bark.

“Looks like it. Seems like the tree ate it,” Spider replied, pulling himself higher.

They climbed in silence. The metal hull, covered in moss, was cracked, as if the machine itself had grown tired of existing.

Down below, Tuk had stayed on the ground, pressing her palms to her mouth.

“Hey!” she called up. “Are there any dead bodies?”

“We’ll see,” replied Socorro, already reaching the open hatch.

He peered inside and, without hesitation, crawled in. You followed him, while Lo’ak, too big to fit, could only watch from outside. Inside, it was dark, quiet, smelling of mold and stale air. Sunlight filtered through the shattered cockpit glass, lighting the space. Broken equipment... and a figure slumped in the pilot’s seat.

A skeleton, still in gear, with tattered patches. The helmet lay by his feet. The metal of the vest had rusted through. Fragments of a breathing mask scattered nearby.

“He died right here,” said Spider, crouching down beside the remains. “Alone.”

You stared in silence, not looking away. You didn’t feel fear — just a strange stillness of time. Everything here was frozen — as if this Samson held a piece of the past.

Suddenly, a loud crash. The cockpit window trembled under a sudden blow.

“BOO!” Lo’ak yelled, slapping the cracked glass.

Y/n and Spider both flinched. Neyma even let out a startled yelp, clutching her chest, while Spider snorted and smiled.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

Lo'ak chuckled, stepping back, but his smile faded as he saw how carefully you were examining the contents of the old pilot’s cabin.

“This…” you ran your fingers along a faded tin box with the manufacturer's name barely visible, “might be useful. Or at least… interesting.”

Most of the items were rusted — an old metal flashlight, a worn-out notebook, and even a broken communicator.

“Gonna take it?” Spider asked, watching you.

You paused for a moment, then nodded.

“Just don’t tell anyone. If my dad sees it, he’ll start asking questions. And if he finds out where we were—he’ll definitely forbid us from coming back.”

“Especially if he hears about the skeleton,” Lo'ak smirked. “We’re definitely in trouble.”

“Exactly.” Y/n carefully packed a few items into her bag, holding it close to her chest. “This is ours. Like a memory. Like history.”

As they were getting ready to climb down from the tree, Tuk suddenly looked up and frowned.

“Hey… Where’s Kiri?”

Everyone froze. No one had noticed her disappearing. Only the faint sway of the branches and a whisper of movement hinted that someone had just passed deeper into the forest.

Spider walked ahead, carefully pushing branches aside and listening intently. His voice echoed between the trees.

“Kiri?.. Kiri, where are you?”

Step by step, he moved deeper into the forest, the voices of his friends fading behind him. He knew that when Kiri heard Eywa’s call, she could wander far — as if in a trance. It had happened before, but lately, it was becoming more frequent. Ever since the humans had returned to Pandora in force, she had grown quieter, more distant.

At last, through the leaves, he saw a familiar silhouette.

Kiri was lying on the soft grass, curled up on her side, as if she’d simply laid down for a moment... and fallen asleep. Her face was calm, even serene — like someone who felt completely safe. Around her, atokirina floated gently, glowing softly in the air, as if guarding her.

...

After regrouping and making sure she was alright, the kids continued their exploration.

They followed narrow winding paths between towering trees and emerged onto the giant roots of an ancient and powerful tree — as old and grand as Pandora itself. The roots stretched above the ground like bridges, and the children carefully walked along them, exchanging glances.

Then Lo’ak suddenly stopped. He crouched down, peering at the damp bark of the root, then at the earth near its base. He jumped down and dropped to his knees.

“What is it?” Kiri asked.

Lo’ak touched the footprint in the wet soil.

“Too big for a human,” he murmured thoughtfully.

“Avatars?” Spider guessed. You thought the same — though it was unlikely. Your own avatars hadn’t worn shoes in years. But you still hoped it was someone familiar.

“Could be… but definitely not ours,” Lo’ak said with certainty.

You stood nearby, brow furrowed. Your fingers tightened around the strap of the bag where you’d packed the little trinkets from the wrecked Samson. Now they felt distant, unimportant. You stared at the footprints in the mud, as if trying to see through them — to the one who had left them.

“If it’s not one of ours… then someone’s come. Someone we don’t know.”

The thought clenched your chest. You weren’t a coward, but you also didn’t mess around when it came to real danger.

You looked at Spider, then at Kiri, who was silently staring in the same direction the tracks were heading — as if she too could feel the unease. Then you glanced at Lo’ak. His face was serious; he was already moving again, deeper into the forest. And the others followed.

“We have to tell someone,” you murmured, mostly to yourself. “This isn’t just someone passing by.”

No one replied. Everyone was looking into the woods — where the trees stood too close and the shadows seemed too dark.

The kids moved slowly, almost silently, as if they were part of the forest itself. The roots beneath their feet were slick with moisture, and the air was thick, charged with tension. Even the insects seemed to hold their breath. The branches above hung low, as if listening.

The tension was like a drawn bowstring.

The footprints led onward, and with every step, they felt more wrong.

“We shouldn’t have come here…” Kiri said, worried and annoyed. “Dad’s gonna kill us.”

“Shh, come on,” Lo’ak said, glancing back at Spider with a mischievous grin, a spark of excitement in his eyes.

He leaned forward slightly, nodding toward the half-ruined lab and the strangers ahead.

“We have to take a closer look,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”

No one argued. Splitting up would’ve been madness. This wasn’t some dumb horror movie — this was Pandora, and Pandora demanded you stick together.

Step by step, crouched low, they pushed through the thick underbrush, treading carefully on the wet ground, hiding behind roots.

Every movement felt like dancing on a knife’s edge — one wrong step, and it could all fall apart.

You walked slightly behind, trying not to lag, but your thoughts drowned in sensation. You couldn’t hear what Lo’ak and Spider were saying. Their words, like sounds muffled underwater, didn’t reach you. Everything around you felt muted, as if the world had emerged from a dream — but still hadn’t fully woken.

The tension in your chest grew with every passing second. This wasn’t just anxiety—something in the forest had changed. The air felt heavier, the sounds unnaturally muffled, like the moments before a storm. Your heart pounded faster, and your fingers instinctively gripped your bow, even though no threat was visible yet.

You could feel a heavy lump rising in your throat. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“We’re leaving,” Lo’ak said shortly, his gaze serious and tense as he looked at the others.

You stepped closer at once, worry clear in your voice as you asked,

“What are we going to do?”

You hadn’t heard the full conversation, didn’t know the details, and your tone betrayed your uncertainty. Instead of answering, Lo’ak pressed a finger to his ear, activating the comm. A soft static crackled in your ear—he switched frequencies and relayed coordinates and information to his father. His voice was calm and precise, like a trained fighter used to situations like this. But there was still a note of unease.

You stayed silent, but your mind was already spinning with frantic thoughts. What would she tell Dad? And more importantly—what would Askuk say?

“Just don’t let him find out first…” you thought anxiously. “He always looks at me like I’m reckless. And it’s all because of Lo’ak… He didn’t even do anything wrong. He’s just… like that. Too brave, too stubborn. But why does everything bad have to be his fault?”

You sighed heavily, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach.

“Dad… maybe he’ll understand. But Askuk—no. He’ll say I put myself in danger again, say I wasn’t thinking. And he’ll start in on me.

‘You’re older than that fool—act smarter, wiser.’

Like he forgot that I also want to do things, explore, live, not just sit safely behind walls…”

You lowered your eyes to your fists, clenched from tension.

You had to come up with something to say. Something that would explain why you had to go with them...

In the distance, Lo’ak, Spider, and Kiri were already moving through the undergrowth. You slowly moved to catch up with them, lips pressed in a determined line. The explanation hadn’t come yet—but she knew she’d have to answer for everything. Especially to the one whose judgment stung sharper than her father’s.

Twilight was falling quickly. The air was cooling, and the thick treetops had turned deep blue and crimson. The scent of damp wood and moss filled the air. Somewhere far off, a beast’s howl echoed—but the children were too focused to notice. Tuk glanced back and called out:

“Run! The eclipse is almost here!”

But she hadn’t taken more than a step when a massive figure emerged from the shadows. An avatar—not one of their clan. A huge blue hand grabbed Tuk. Her sharp cry split the air.

“Tuk!” Kiri screamed.

Lo’ak and Spider instantly drew their bows, pulling back the strings and aiming at the place the stranger had appeared.

You were slightly behind them, near the roots of a tree, checking your satchel to make sure everything was still there. The sudden scream made you jolt, and you spun around.

From all directions—like rising from the earth—avatars began to emerge. They stepped from the bushes and low ferns silently, like ghosts. They carried firearms—heavy, deadly ones. Their movements were precise and coordinated—clearly not wildlings or rogue adventurers.

How? you thought, panic rising. How didn’t we hear them? How could they be so quiet?..

You bolted as soon as you realized the full scope of what was happening. Your heart pounded; your legs carried you instinctively, desperately—just get away, just let one of you escape. The others were still fighting, shouting commands to each other.

But you had to call for help. You had to...

Yet as soon as you reached the clearing between the roots, a silhouette appeared as if from thin air. One of the avatars—tall, massive, unmistakably foreign—stepped forward and, without hesitation, grabbed you around the waist. The force of the movement knocked the breath from your lungs.

You shrieked and struggled, but his grip was iron. He lifted you effortlessly into the air like a toy. Your legs dangled helplessly, and fear and rage choked your breath.

“Put me down!” you screamed, trying to break free—but he didn’t even look at you.

He turned around and carried you toward the clearing, where Lo’ak and Spider were slowly tossing their bows to the ground. They were immediately grabbed by their kuru and forced to their knees.

You were still struggling in the air until you, like a sack, were thrown down to your knees beside them. Your fingers trembled, your hair fell across your mask, and your eyes darted around—who were these avatars? Why were they here? How the hell were they so damn quiet?

Slowly, you lifted your head. They were surrounded. And not a single familiar face among them.

Terrified, Tuk was calling out for her older sister, while Kiri tried to soothe her in Na’vi. Panic would only make things worse.

The soldier holding you didn’t like this and yanked Tuk’s braid roughly to silence her.

Two more avatars entered your field of vision. One of them was closely examining each of the children.

A bald avatar with a sharp, hard face grabbed Kiri’s wrist and twisted her hand palm-up. Then he called over another avatar—the one with the rank of Colonel—and informed him of something interesting.

“Half-breed.”

Another avatar stepped closer. He looked young, maybe in his twenties, with a cold, piercing gaze. His movements were firm and deliberate—he carried himself like someone used to giving orders. He studied Kiri’s face as if comparing it to something from memory… or a file.

Then he turned to Lo’ak and stepped forward.

“Show me your hand.” His voice was calm, but the threat in it was unmistakable—like ice crawling up your spine.

You held your breath. Something in that man’s tone made your heart pound—not from anger, but from pure, animal fear.

Lo’ak, the fool, didn’t even flinch. He bared his teeth in a grin and, without looking away, flipped him off with both middle fingers. Then he hissed at him.

That was a mistake. The avatar smirked and immediately grabbed him by the kuru, yanking so hard that Lo’ak let out a deep, pained growl.

You watched in horror, unable to say a word. Your fingers trembled, and your thoughts were a jumbled mess. Everything happened so fast, you could barely understand—what now? What were you supposed to do?

Spider, still on his knees, yelled something in Na’vi. His voice didn’t shake from fear, but from fury—as if he were holding back a storm.

Meanwhile, the Colonel was still gripping Lo’ak’s braid. His eyes bore into the boy. Five fingers. He understood it all—without a word, without a question.

He asked in English, but Lo’ak, stubborn or stupid, deliberately replied in Na’vi. Then the man barked the question again, this time in broken, rough Na’vi—demanding to know where his father was.

You stood frozen, paralyzed by fear, like something had you in a vice. Your hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms, but you didn’t feel the pain—only a cold emptiness inside. Your eyes were wide, your breath shallow. Your heart was pounding so loud it felt like even the enemies could hear it.

When the Colonel spoke again, when Lo’ak was yanked and cried out in pain—that was when something inside you snapped.

Your vision blurred, and tears began to fall—silently, without a sound. You didn’t even try to wipe them away. You just let your gaze drop to the ground, to the dry leaves and damp dust. You couldn’t watch anymore. It was too much. Too terrifying. Too painful.

You tried to disappear into yourself, to retreat deep into your mind—as if staying silent, not breathing, not feeling might make all of this vanish. But instead of safety, there was only pain. Guilt. Helplessness. Fear that no one was coming… that maybe you wouldn’t make it out.

You barely heard what the Colonel was saying. Everything around you became muffled, like underwater—unclear, dull, as if you were slowly drowning in your own fear.

Around you, voices trembled with pain and desperation.

Through the haze of fear and tears, you still managed to look up—just for a moment. Ahead, slightly to the side, the Colonel knelt down on one knee, bringing himself face to face with Spider.

You heard every word, like they were being nailed into the ground next to you.

Quaritch.

It. Was. Freaking.

Miles Quaritch, right in front of you, and suddenly everything made sense. That’s why this man was interested in the human boy.

....

Trying to piece together a new puzzle... Colonel Quaritch.

That name echoed through old recordings — like a threat, a curse.

They said he wasn’t human…

He burned forests. Hunted the Na’vi like prey.

The father of war.

…Video footage on dad’s tablet.

Tall, stone-faced. His voice was only command.

No “if”. Only “move.”

…They said he was dead.

Killed by Jake Sully.

Stopped for good.

He’s talking to him now. The man kneels… like he knows him.

And they all knew Quaritch had a son.

A baby they couldn’t send back to Earth.

Miles… Socorro. Spider.

...

It felt like time stretched on purpose, making your heart pound harder with each beat.

Sounds around you dulled — like everything was drowned underwater. You didn’t even realize he’d come closer.

The main avatar.

He was already in front of you, staring straight into your face.

No words. No rush.

Like he was trying to see beneath your skin, beyond your eyes — deeper.

His gaze was steady, calm, and predatory all at once.

You froze. You couldn’t even look away.

His face showed no clear expression — which only made it worse.

Quaritch stood there, his eyes locked onto yours.

There was a hunter’s focus in his expression, like he was fitting together pieces of a puzzle.

You felt his eyes digging into your face, as if he could find the answer written there.

A teenager. Definitely. But… damn, how old was she?

Dates, faces, scraps of info tangled in his head.

He knew Spider’s age.

He remembered who had been at the base.

Who had survived. Who hadn’t.

But you…

He didn’t know you.

Didn’t recognize you.

He squinted.

– Hell… – he muttered under his breath. – Who the hell are you?

He took a step closer, towering over you, looking down straight into your eyes.

– You grew up with him?.. – he nodded toward Spider. – Who are your parents?

You swallowed. Your throat clenched tight from within.

Tears still blurred your eyes, but you lifted your gaze, trying to at least steady your voice.

– I… I’m… just living here…

Quaritch narrowed his eyes, like he didn’t hear you — or didn’t believe it.

– With who? – he asked more quietly now, which only made it scarier. – Who takes care of you?

You hesitated, glancing at your friends’ faces — Lo’ak’s clenched jaw and hiss, Spider frozen, Kiri and Tuk’s frightened eyes.

Your heart pounded, but you still answered.

– Norm… Norm Spellman… He… he raised me…

Quaritch straightened, his jaw tightening.

That name clearly rang a bell.

– Well, well, – he muttered, nodding to someone behind him. – So you did multiply after all…

You swallowed hard.

– Norm Spellman, huh? That clueless scientist who thought he could play daddy?

A low chuckle came from behind him.

...

– Okay, it’s settled, Kiri declared, folding her arms. – I’m grandma now. Sitting here, sipping herbal tea and complaining about my back.

She dramatically sank onto a tree root, let out a deep sigh, and closed her eyes like life had truly worn her down.

You, glowing with joy, were already tugging Neteyam by the hand.

– You’re the dad! And I’m the mom! We’re a family!

– And who’re our kids? – Neteyam asked with a slight smile, trying to keep a serious face.

– Them! – Y/n pointed at Lo’ak and Spider.

– Hey! I don’t wanna play this! – Lo’ak grumbled, arms crossed.

– Shh! You’re the grumpy son, – you declared sternly and stomped your foot.

Spider snorted.

– Fine. If Lo’ak’s grumpy, I’ll be the obedient one. Maybe I’ll get dessert for it.

You busily sat everyone down on the ground, setting out “bowls” made of wide leaves in front of them.

– No playtime until you eat!

– What’s for lunch, mommy? – Spider asked with exaggerated drama.

– Leaves, berries, and roots, – Neteyam answered, miming a spoon to his mouth. – All made with love.

– How long will I be stuck in the bushes after this “masterpiece”? – Lo’ak muttered to Spider with a groan.

– Eat up, children, before it gets cold! – you said strictly, handing Spider a chunk of some pretend-dead caterpillar.

– Husband, help me with the kids!

“Yes, yes... sons, listen to your mother,” Neteyam muttered, trying to stay serious, but his lips betrayed him with a twitch of a smile.

“Never again,” Lo’ak hissed, leaning toward Spider, who just chuckled softly.

A fragile, warm childhood moment—like a breath of air before the storm.

...

They stood in a straight line, facing the moss-covered ruins of an abandoned base. Hands clenched in front of them so tightly it hurt the wrists. No one was allowed to sit—not even those struggling to breathe from exhaustion. Only to stand. Stand and wait.

Every time someone made a wrong move, they were yanked by their queue.

“Don’t move. Stand still!”

The darkness thickened, the air turned cold and damp.

And suddenly—in the depth of the jungle, from where the ancient trees grew—a faint call echoed. A bird cry, from somewhere above. Thin, familiar, heart-gripping. A signal.

Neytiri.

None of the enemy avatars paid attention. They were busy—checking equipment, speaking into radios, scanning the perimeter.

Kiri lowered her head and closed her eyes. Her lips moved soundlessly. She began to pray. The prayer, in the Na’vi tongue, flowed like a song—softly, almost inaudibly—melting into the sounds of the forest and rain.

She called out to Eywa, to the Great Spirit, for protection.

A soldier yanked her kuru again, telling her to shut up.

Panic spread like fire through dry leaves.

“Hold the line!” shouted one of the avatars—but it was already too late.

Lo’ak, close enough to the soldier, lunged forward and sank his teeth into the man’s arm with a feral growl. The avatar screamed, instinctively letting go. In the same instant, Tuk followed her brother’s lead—not as strong, but with just as much determination. The soldier staggered back, and the children bolted.

Kiri and Spider, using the chaos, had already vanished into the trees, swallowed by the night greenery under the noise of gunfire and shouted orders.

Y/n was the last. Her heart pounded like a war drum. One of the avatars grabbed her shoulder, holding her back. Terror and fury blazed inside. She looked up at him—and suddenly slammed her foot into his knee with every ounce of strength she had.

The avatar howled in pain and let her go. You broke free, stumbled, but quickly got up and ran—into the forest, into the rain and darkness, toward the only hope of salvation.

Everything felt like a thick fog. The mask on your face seemed to make breathing harder, each inhale echoing in your ears. Through the veil of fear and smoke, you barely made out the familiar silhouettes of the Na’vi. Gathering what strength remained, you ran toward them.

“Neteyam!” you cried out, your voice cracking into a scream.

The boy turned instantly, eyes wide with alarm. With a grace that only he possessed, he leapt over a fallen tree and was beside you in a heartbeat. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you forward.

“Run! Hurry!”

You tore through the jungle, leaping over roots, dodging branches. Gunshots and yelling echoed behind you, flashes of light sliced through the night. Your heart thundered in your chest, breath ragged.

“Eywa, don’t let us die,” you whispered, eyes locked on the depths of the forest ahead.

The night wrapped around you—but you knew, as long as you were together, there was still hope.

...

[mira-atakirina]

When she got sick:

Lo'ak:

— Don't cough on me! I'm going hunting soon, I don't want to lie next to you, — he pulled back a little, worried he might get sick. He couldn’t hide his slight concern but still made a promise. — Don’t worry, I’ll still visit you in the upper camp and in your room. And to keep you from getting bored, I’ll tell you all the things that happened while you were gone.

— Try drinking this, Grandma says it helps with colds, — he said confidently, suddenly offering you the spoon. You shook your head in refusal, sighing tiredly. Lo'ak sometimes forgets that everything he offers you might be toxic to your body.

At that moment, it was clear how much he cared for you — he was trying so hard, despite his clumsiness. Yes, he sometimes made mistakes, but his sincere desire to help was evident, and that made him even more endearing in the eyes of the one he was trying so hard to heal.

Neteyam:

For the Na'vi, illness is a rarity. Unlike Lo'ak, Neteyam doesn't keep his distance, understanding that you can't use traditional Na'vi remedies. The young Na'vi, without hesitation, asked his father how the Sky People treat illnesses and care for each other when they're sick.

— I made you some herbal tea, — he said, entering your room, carefully holding a small cup. Steam spiraled from the cup, dancing gracefully, dissolving before starting the dance again. Even with your stuffy nose, the pleasant aroma filled your lungs.

As you slowly sipped the tea, his golden eyes gazed tenderly at your pale face.

Spider:

With a leap, he sat on the edge of the bed. — Tough case, how did you manage to get sick? — he asked, dripping some sweet syrup onto a large spoon. As you began to cough, he quickly pushed the medicine into your mouth. The girl coughed even harder.

— Oh, sorry, — he awkwardly patted you on the back.

Jake was definitely caring while his friend was sick, but he also had a playful side. Together with Lo'ak, they performed like clowns, trying to cheer you up with their antics.

Ao’nung:

“I told you bathing in cold water wouldn’t end well,” he said as he sat behind you. You were too weak from the cold to take care of yourself, so Ao’nung took it upon himself to tend to your hair. He didn’t really know how to care for a sky person properly, but he was trying in his own way.

He did his best to help you deal with the fever, even though he knew others could take care of you too. Still, Ao’nung—reluctantly or not—continued to look after you. He gently gathered and braided your long hair, or simply brushed it if it was short. He also brought you the cleanest, most refreshing water he could find, understanding that keeping your body hydrated was important for recovery.

Roto:

"Look what I brought! Just for you!" — the Na'vi sang cheerfully as he stepped into the room, holding a bunch of colorful seashells. He had found them on the beach that morning and instantly thought they might lift your spirits.

Roto didn’t really know how to treat someone like you — a sky person. But he knew one thing for sure: he could try to make you smile. He sat down gently beside you and began to softly massage your hands and feet — a warm, careful touch full of quiet care.

If you were being grumpy, he paid it no mind and just kept going with a playful smirk. But if you turned quiet and distant, he grew concerned. Like a lost kitten, he would linger close by, never far — sometimes at your bedside, other times at the door, always watching.

Now and then, he’d start talking about silly things — a funny fish he saw, or noisy birds that nearly landed on his head. He just wanted to see you smile, even if just for a moment.

Norm Spellman:

When you fell ill, Norm didn't panic, although his concern was evident. He knew how important it was to monitor someone's condition, and his knowledge, gathered through years of medical research, enabled him to help effectively.

He carefully covered you with a blanket, checked your temperature, and quickly prepared a herbal infusion he knew from his medical studies. His calm demeanor helped him stay collected and attentive. He made sure you drank plenty of water, understanding how crucial it was to maintain hydration during an illness.

Norm's care for Y/n went beyond just treating her — he also tried to provide emotional support. When she was particularly weak, he would sit beside her, talking to her, making sure she didn't feel lonely or bored.

Askuuk:

"Lie down," he said firmly — and that single word was enough to make you obey. His commanding tone left no room for argument. Arguing with him would only make things worse for you.

You're not his only little sister. Askuuk has experience taking care of younger siblings, and he knows exactly what to do when someone falls ill. In moments like these, he turns into a real "mom." The moment he hears a cough or sneeze — that's it, you're under full observation. Well, figuratively. But still.

Behind Askuuk’s indifferent expression hides quiet worry. For the Na'vi, illness is rare — but you're a human child, much more fragile. He simply can't leave you alone. He needs to stay close at all times: changing the damp cloth on your forehead, checking your temperature, giving you medicine on time, and even watching over your breathing as you sleep, just to be sure you're okay.

Sometimes, thinking you're asleep, he gently adjusts your blanket and lets his gaze linger on your face for a moment longer than usual. He may be quiet, he may seem stern — but deep down, he cares as deeply as any lloving brother.

Erao:

"Want me to play on your nerves?" he grinned widely, stretching his lips into a mischievous smile. It seemed like Erao thought playing the drums in front of his sick sister was the best thing to do. Rather than risking his life near Askuuk, he chose this strange amusement.

"Alright, don’t frown, I’m just kidding!" he quickly moved the drums off his lap and placed them on the floor. He then approached you, gently taking the towel from your forehead and, without pressing too hard, turned it to the cool side, softly touching your skin.

Despite his pranks and teasing, it was clear that he genuinely cared for you. Even in moments like these, he was ready to be tender and caring, even if you didn’t fully agree with his methods. He might joke around, but he was always there, ready to support and take care of you, no matter how picky or irritated you were.

And even if his jokes weren’t always the best, Erao knew that in those moments, it was important for you to feel cared for.

[mira-atakirina]

«Roots in a Foreign Sky»

Without Looking Back

Chapter 2

...

“They’re back! The Sky People are back!” Norm’s shout tore through the silence, making hearts clench in terror. “Drop everything! Take only what you need! Two minutes — we can’t be here!”

Once, this house had been their haven. A place where they grew up, laughed, dreamed. Now it was just a remnant of a life they had to leave behind without looking back.

Fear coursed through their veins like a cold wave. Even the eldest of the children, already burdened with the weight of adult life, froze for a moment, as if refusing to believe what was happening. But the survival instinct prevailed.

Without wasting a second, the older ones grabbed weapons and ran for the exit. They called for their ikrans, their voices lost in the rustle of the night forest, where every shadow seemed to hide a threat.

The dark sky flickered with flashes of warning, and the ground beneath their feet felt unsteady and treacherous.

This was not just a night of farewell to their home — it was the night the last pieces of the world they had known came crashing down.

...

Ikrans dove from the sky like shadows against the distant flashes of lightning. Their wings sliced through the damp night air with a sharp hiss, carrying the fugitives away from danger.

The children clung to the necks of their loyal companions, gazing down at the tiny lights of the home they once had — growing smaller with every wingbeat, until they vanished completely.

Below, in the firelight, enemy figures were already gathering.

The night roared with wind in their ears, reeked of cold fear and bitter smoke — and only hearts filled with pain and anger kept them from looking back.

Pandora met them in silence. The silence of those who survived. And those who knew the cost of escape.

...

“The blue stripes make me faster,” declared Spider with importance, smearing paint across his shoulder with his fingers. Uneven blue lines marked his skin.

You sat a little off to the side, near your older Na’vi brothers. They were quietly chatting among themselves, discussing something in low tones, while you patiently wove a basket from supple leaves and tough plant fibers, your fingers deftly threading the strands together.

A fire crackled nearby, scattering golden sparks into the air. The warm aroma of roasted fruit and freshly picked roots wafted from the flames, their juices hissing in the heat. The camp was alive with calm routine: someone was mending ikran straps, someone laughing as they told stories.

“Skxawng,” Kiri snorted, calling Spider a fool in the Na’vi tongue, and began helping him apply more even stripes of thick, warm paint that smelled faintly of berries.

You stifled a giggle. One of the brothers — the one sitting closest — caught the motion and raised an eyebrow in silent question. You simply shook your head with a soft smile.

“It’s nothing,” you replied, continuing your work.

The fire crackled gently, and the soft night breeze carried the scent of flowers and damp earth. In that moment, it felt as if the whole world was holding its breath, offering a rare peace and comfort.

“I’m serious. Even the animals respect me more,” Spider continued confidently, tracing another line of paint. “They sense me less as a human.”

You silently kept weaving your basket, listening in on the conversation. On Pandora, every little thing could mean the difference between life and death — especially for a human. This planet was beautiful, but alien. You wished you had been born Na’vi, or at least had an avatar body. But no — you were just human. Sometimes it felt like being a parasite on this world.

Suddenly, Kiri, still smiling, stopped him with a light touch to the shoulder.

“Wait! You’re human?!” she gasped with mock surprise.

Spider smirked sarcastically and pretended he was about to smear paint on her. Kiri laughed and backed away just in time, hiding a grin.

And the air between them filled again with a light, joyful mood — under the quiet crackle of the fire and the whisper of the night forest.

“Sey’li, I’m done. Can I go now?” you asked, setting the finished basket aside after what felt like hours of work.

The older Na’vi exchanged a lazy glance and nodded, letting you go for a while.

“Just don’t go far,” he reminded. “Dad and the others will be back soon. We might need help.”

You smiled and flashed an “OK” sign with your fingers, then got to your feet and jogged lightly over to Spider and Kiri.

“What are you up to, my blue friends?” you asked playfully as you ran up to them.

“Boosting my power,” Spider replied with great importance, holding out a hand smeared with blue paint. “Want some?”

“If you even try to smear me with that stuff again…” you warned, squinting at him.

Spider laughed, and you both noticed a few nearby Na’vi whistle and cheer teasingly.

Suddenly, a long trumpet sound echoed through the air — alarming, yet joyful. The whole camp stirred; people stood, dropped what they were doing, and began moving toward the open clearing, where the powerful beating of wings could already be heard.

“Hurry! Kiri! Spider! Y/n!” Tuk called out, breathless, waving you over. “Our warriors are coming back! Let’s go meet them!"

Without wasting a second, you all took off running toward the clearing, where the sky was already trembling with the arrival of the ikran.

You, Kiri, and Spider took off running toward the edge of the camp. Your feet slipped slightly on the damp stone floor of the cave, thick with the scent of moisture and smoke. The wind was picking up, carrying the sound of heavy wingbeats toward you.

The camp was quickly stirring to life. Na’vi dropped what they were doing, grabbed their weapons, and lined the paths. One hunter raised a ceremonial horn, and a deep, resonant note rolled across the camp.

Cheers and calls followed — voices raised in welcome for those returning from battle. There was strength and pride in their voices, but also unease. Not everyone always made it back.

Your heart raced as the first silhouettes of riders on ikran came into view.

Kiri briefly squeezed your hand — just once — as if to share this moment with you. Spider looked up, eyes fixed on the approaching shadows.

...

You reached the edge of the cliff just as the Sully family’s ikran began landing one by one on the stone. Their wings beat powerfully, stirring clouds of dust into the air.

One look at Jake Sully’s face made it clear — something wasn’t right.

“Oh no…” you muttered under your breath, catching yourself just in time.

Then you noticed something strange — Neteyam wasn’t riding his own ikran, but Jake’s. That only happened if a rider was injured, or their mount was too.

As expected, Jake immediately began reprimanding Neteyam and Lo’ak. His voice was harsh, laced with anger — but underneath, there was clear worry.

You and Spider instinctively kept your distance, not wanting to interfere. But standing still felt wrong, so you started helping — checking gear, loosening tired ikran harnesses, all the while glancing back at the scene.

“Kiri, help your grandmother with the wounded,” Jake ordered his daughter.

Kiri pressed her lips together, clearly wanting to argue. She didn’t want to leave — not while her brothers were under fire. But eventually, she gave in. With Tuk, she headed off to join the clan’s elder healer.

You and Spider exchanged a glance. You felt awkward witnessing the family dispute, even though Jake’s words weren’t unfair. He wasn’t just a father — he was the clan’s leader.

Finally, Jake let Neteyam go to get treated, giving in to Neytiri’s silent plea. His attention now shifted fully to Lo’ak.

And that’s when the real storm began — figuratively, and perhaps literally.

You stepped away from the tired ikran and moved closer. If you were going to get caught in this mess, might as well try to help your friend.

“Hey…!” Spider hissed your name in a loud whisper.

You didn’t turn — just raised a thumb over your shoulder to let him know you were fine. Spider exhaled heavily, shaking his head in defeat.

Approaching, you gently took Lo’ak’s hand in yours, inspecting him for injuries. Luckily, nothing serious — just scrapes and bruises. A bit of salve would do.

Lo’ak lowered his eyes, clearly ashamed. He didn’t try to speak in his defense — not under his father’s piercing stare.

Jake, not even glancing your way, said sharply:

“Go to your father. Check on Norm.”

His tone was cold — a command, not a request. You nodded silently, hiding the disappointment on your face, and turned away toward where Norm would be.

The last thing you heard as you walked off:

“And wipe that paint off your face."

Jake’s voice again — not a father now, but a commander speaking to his son.

...

You made your way quickly through the camp toward Norm.

The path wasn’t long, but each step seemed to pull you further from the safety of childhood. Around you, Na’vi and humans rushed about — tending to the injured, carrying supplies, salvaging damaged equipment.

A tall Na’vi warrior passed by you, his chest slashed with bloody wounds, armor shattered. His eyes were tired, yet full of determination. Others followed in haste, carrying a comrade in their arms — unconscious, his legs hung limp.

The air was thick with the smell of blood, burnt wood, and the bitter scent of healing herbs used on wounds.

You could only guess what these smells were — if not for the mask on your face. You involuntarily clenched your fists tighter, forcing yourself to keep moving.

Carefully weaving between hurried humans and Na’vi, you finally saw him.

Norm’s tall, wiry avatar stood out among the others — his blue skin smudged with dust. His tail twitched with nervous tension, and his broad shoulders seemed burdened with too much weight.

The moment he saw you, Norm stepped forward, his amber eyes glowing softly.

You nearly ran to him.

He dropped to one knee to meet your height and instantly pulled you into an embrace. His long arms wrapped around you like a shield, holding you close to his strong chest — and again you heard that deep, steady heartbeat.

You clung to the fabric of his bandolier. He probably smelled like a mix of herbs, smoke, sweat — and something comforting, almost home-like.

For a moment, the world around you disappeared — there was only you and him.

“I missed you too,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You smiled involuntarily, though something inside twisted at the pain and weariness you heard in his voice.

When he gently pulled back, placing you at arm’s length, you immediately began inspecting him. Your eyes darted across his shoulders, chest, arms — checking for injuries. Just a few scratches and dirt on the bandolier — no serious wounds.

“Dad, are you okay?” you asked anxiously.

Norm smiled faintly.

“I’m okay. Nothing serious.”

“The others? Askuuk? Vi’an? Kel’ha? Erao?” you added quickly.

He nodded softly.

“They’re alive.”

You nodded too, though the anxiety in your chest still lingered.

Norm brushed a hand over your hair, then rose to his full height — his towering three meters reminded you again how small you were next to him.

He turned toward a pile of weapons — rifles, grenades, heavy belts loaded with ammo.

“Listen,” he said seriously. “Go to Mo’at. It’s dangerous here. If you accidentally touch something…” — he nodded toward the box of grenades — “it could end badly.”

You didn’t argue.

“Okay, Dad,” you nodded.

Before leaving, you hugged his strong arm again. Norm leaned slightly and gave you a playful wink.

“Go on, little one. Be my eyes out there.”

With a small smile, you ran off in the direction of a familiar tent among the others.

Behind you, your father — still tall, dependable, strong — returned to the chaos around him.

Just before you slipped from his sight completely, you caught a glimpse of the rest of your family from the corner of your eye.

Askuuk — tall and strong, with a firm, nearly cold gaze — stopped beside Norm without a word, giving him a short respectful nod. His face, as always, was focused — emotions rarely showed there, but in this silent gesture was a readiness to help and share the burden.

Next came Vi’an, a little late. He was younger — barely nineteen. He still looked leaner, lighter than his older brothers, and now, rubbing his neck, he grimaced in discomfort. The long flight and tension of battle clearly weighed on him more heavily.

Erao arrived last.

A bulky bandolier of weapons hung over his back — rifles, grenades, and strange instruments that clinked with every step. He carefully set the load down, snorted, and brushed soot and dirt off his hands.

His face, usually bright and cheerful, was stern now — Erao fully understood the seriousness of the moment.

The smell of battle still lingered around them. Smoke, ash, and the faint, metallic scent of blood.

You seemed to arrive just in time.

Neteyam winced softly in pain as Kiri carefully applied salve to the deep scrape on his side.

Nearby, Lo’ak and Spider were already exchanging knowing grins, quietly snorting with barely-contained amusement.

“A great warrior,” Mo’at, the clan’s tsahìk, remarked with a warm, teasing tone in her voice. Despite the irony, pride still shone in her eyes for her grandson.

Without hesitation, you sank down onto the mat directly in front of Neteyam to be at eye level with him.

You sat cross-legged in the Pandoran way, comfortably settling on the soft woven rug. Gently, you reached out and touched his shin—where his skin was lightly scored with scratches.

You touched him carefully, almost weightlessly, as if silently offering support through your hand alone.

Neteyam gave you a small smile in return, his eyes softening for a moment.

Beside you sat Tuk, clutching a large bowl filled with healing berries mixed into a medicinal paste.

She held it with both hands to keep it steady, watching the treatment of her brother with curious eyes, occasionally wincing when she saw it hurt him.

“Celebrate their return, but don’t forget,” Mo’at said. “The true strength of a warrior lies not in how high he rises, but in how he stands after he falls. And in those he chooses to fight for.”

Her words brought a quiet over the group. Even Lo’ak, usually playful, nodded silently, eyes fixed on the fire.

The warm breeze stirred your hair. The night smelled of smoke, damp earth, and the promise of peace after battle.

…

Together, your cheerful little group made your way through the large tent reserved for the avatars.

“They’re totally going to kick us out again,” you whispered, though you continued walking with the others.

“We’ll be quick!” Lo’ak waved it off with a grin.

Inside was a scene of organized chaos—some were brushing their teeth, others wrapping bandages around themselves or helping each other, while a few had already dozed off, lazily chatting in low tones.

Your father, Norm, was among those tidying up before bed. A toothbrush stuck out of his mouth as he mumbled something unintelligible.

“Hey, Spider!” he suddenly called out to your usual partner-in-crime.

Before you could blink, Norm whipped the towel off his neck and smacked Spider across the butt with a playful smack.

You barely managed to stifle a laugh, quickly rushing ahead to avoid catching flak from the scientists who had already warned you not to wander in here.

“You’re gonna pay for that!” Spider growled, turning around with mock outrage.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Norm replied with exaggerated innocence, pulling the toothbrush from his mouth.

“Pff!” Spider mimicked him, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.

As expected, you were quickly “caught.”

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?! Avatars only!” one of the female scientists called out in a stern voice.

Kiri wasted no time mimicking her in a high-pitched, sing-song tone.

“Sorry!” Lo’ak chimed in quickly.

…

After the long and “epic” journey from the tent to the lab, you and Spider finally took off your exo-packs with a sigh of relief. The sense of freedom was almost physical.

Your Na’vi friends, on the other hand, quickly put on their breathing masks—the Earth air was dangerous for them, though not immediately deadly.

“Yeah, ha-ha,” Spider said sarcastically. “You know what’s really funny? You guys can breathe our Earth air for hours. We get ten seconds in yours—if that.”

He gestured toward you as he said it.

“Exactly!” you chimed in, adjusting the straps of your top over your shoulders as you walked toward the familiar group of scientists.

Spider darted ahead, reaching them first. He fist-bumped Max as he passed, then—wasting no time—snuck in and gave your father a sharp pinch on the nipple.

“Ow!” Norm yelped with a disgruntled chuckle, jerking away.

“Ow…” you echoed, laughing along with Spider.

The lab had its own kind of coziness. A faint smell of antiseptic, the soft hum of equipment, and dim lighting created a sense of safety, a place that felt alive—despite the exhaustion on everyone’s faces.

...

You stood with Spider and Kiri, watching an old video recording—footage of Grace Augustine. A brilliant scientist, a sharp mind, a kind heart—that’s how everyone who’d known her described her. And you believed them. In a way, you even envied Kiri. She knew who her mother was, she knew the kind of woman she had been.

And you? Who was your mother? Norm’s wife, a Na’vi from another clan. Definitely not someone you could call your own. She had always been... neutral-positive, at best. Not an enemy—but not a mom either.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice Lo’ak until he strolled by, lazily propping one long leg on the lab table with casual grace.

“So who do you think knocked her up?” he asked with a smirk, nodding toward the screen.

“My money’s on Norm,” Spider chimed in, flashing a smug grin.

You rolled your eyes.

“Have you no shame?” Kiri said sharply, frowning, and you nodded in agreement.

“What? It makes sense!” Lo’ak insisted. “Teacher’s pet! Always glued to her in the lab…”

“I'd rather die, drink some acid.” Kiri snorted. “No offense, Y/n”

You wrinkled your nose and raised an eyebrow at her.

It was a weird thought—those two together. The age difference alone was enormous...

Turning away, your eyes landed on the amnio tank, where Grace’s avatar floated in thick fluid. She looked so peaceful in her sleep.

“See? Right there! In every clip, he’s always by her side!” Spider exclaimed, pointing at the screen.

You silently pinched his thigh in response.

“Ow!” cried the second-class clown.

“I can just picture it,” Lo’ak went on, theatrically placing a hand on his chest. “Their avatars sneaking off into the forest together...”

You smacked him hard on the butt. That yelp was no joke this time.

Before he could even react, Kiri gave him a playful shove.

“Enough.”

It all still felt light-hearted, fun—until Spider suddenly muttered:

“Sometimes it’s better not to know who your father is.”

The air thickened. The jokes stopped cold. Even the hum of the lab seemed to hush. Sadness settled silently between you all.

Spider turned away, leaning his side against the glass capsule.

“Whatever,” he muttered. “I don’t even remember him.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you tried to comfort him.

“Save it,” he snapped, eyes dark.

You exchanged a glance with Lo’ak. It hurt, seeing him like this. He did know who his father was. And his mother. But he also knew that everyone else who knew his father carried that look—hatred. Whether they showed it or not.

And again, something twisted inside you. Jealousy? No… more like longing. He knew where he came from. You didn’t.

“You’re nothing like him,” Kiri said softly, wrapping her long limbs around his waist.

There was such truth and warmth in her voice.

You spotted a sturdy box nearby, climbed on top to match Spider’s height. He was still staring off, leaning on the amnio tank, stubbornly avoiding everyone’s gaze.

You leaned forward slightly, trying to catch his eyes. The pain there was almost physical. He held himself together with the strength of his people—their jokes, their touches, their warm voices. Without that, he might’ve fallen apart long ago.

You reached out and gently touched his shoulder, careful, as if afraid of breaking something fragile.

“Hey...” you called quietly.

For a moment, he looked at you—his eyes still heavy with sadness.

You squeezed his shoulder a little more firmly, trying to let your warmth speak for you.

“We’ll always be together. We’ve made it through so much already... And you’ve proven, again and again, how much you mean to us.”

He glanced down at your hand—and for a moment, a tiny, almost invisible smile touched his lips. Like he was clinging to the comfort you offered.

At that moment, without a word, you knew that even the smallest touch could keep someone from drowning.

...

P. S. My writing may differ from the dialogues in the movie, as I have an artistic translation of this film in my country."

[mira-atakirina]

«Roots in a Foreign Sky»

Hatchling

—what if a girl was born on Pandora?...

Chapter 1

Norm Spellman was a scientist but more than that, he was a man with a heart large enough to hold the weight of a world that wasn't his. After the war with the RDA, he made a choice few would dare to make: he adopted fourteen Na'vi children, each one a soul left adrift in the aftermath of loss.

His own life had been carved by sorrow— the death of a beloved mentor, the fading echo of a lost love - yet through it all, his compassion remained unshaken. He carried it in his eyes: tired, yes, but gentle, always. Eyes that saw pain and met it with understanding.

The home he returned to, once built for avatars, was no longer a cold station of science. It had transformed into a sanctuary - a place where the voices of children filled the air like birdsong at dawn. Laughter bounced from wall to wall. Quiet moments of thought and healing settled in the spaces between.

Norm cradled the infant gently in his arms, his lips pressed into a nervous line. There was hesitation in the furrow of his brow, a flicker of doubt dancing behind his eyes. This decision - this one more choice - felt heavier than most. Yet, he never looked away from the baby's sleeping face, as if searching for silent confirmation in her peaceful breath.

To Norm, she wasn't just a child. She was a symbol - a fragile seed of healing, a new beginning rising from the ashes of all he had lost. Taking her in wasn't just about care; it was about hope. About rebuilding something whole from the broken.

He knew the road ahead would be difficult. He wasn't just a guardian anymore - he was a father trying to forge a true family, where every child, no matter their origin, could feel safe, wanted, and deeply loved.

She was given a name soft and beautiful, a name they spoke with warmth.

From that moment on, she was known as Y/n.

...

For many, it was a shock. One thing was adopting fourteen Na'vi children, orphaned after the war.

That already seemed like madness.

But when Norm Spellman, the tired, quiet scientist, took a human infant in his arms and declared that she was now his daughter, even the most patient of those who knew him couldn't hide their astonishment.

"Why are you doing this?" some asked.

"You already have more children than half the clan," others said.

And some just watched in silence, with confusion - perhaps even a hint of judgment.

But Norm never answered. He didn't argue, didn't explain. He simply held the little girl in his arms, and his gaze - warm, but weary spoke for him. He owed no one an explanation. It was his choice. His responsibility. And it wasn't for them to bear.

...

At Norm's request, the eldest children went to the outpost. A few weeks earlier, he had told them about the upcoming addition to their large family.

Erao, always curious and quick to notice every detail, saw a human infant for the first time in his life. His eyes widened in surprise, and without a second thought, he ran straight to their father, forgetting all sense of decorum. Norm stood holding the tiny Y/n in his arms.

"Papa!" he exclaimed, unable to believe what he was seeing. "Is that... is that a real human baby? She's so small! Where did you find her?"

Askuuk, though the eldest, couldn't hide his astonishment either. He approached more slowly, but his eyes were glowing with interest. He was used to seeing humans only as adults - cold, armed with metal tools, but a baby? A little one, just like them, only... human? He pressed his lips together, unsure of what to say.

Kel'ha, watching the infant, felt something warm begin to spread inside her. She stepped closer to her father with curiosity, though a trace of awe lingered in her movements. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at the baby, then up at Norm.

"She's so tiny..." she whispered, stepping forward and reaching out gently, as if afraid to frighten the child. "Can we hold her? What does she feel like? We've never seen a human child before."

Norm, noticing the tenderness in her voice, gave a small, soft smile and nodded.

...

No one ever found out where the baby had come from, or how she ended up at the scientists' base. There was no information about her - not a trace of her parents, not even a name. But one thing was clear: she was no more than a month old.

She had been born on Pandora a world as breathtaking as it was dangerous for a human child.

But the greatest danger of Pandora wasn't its creatures or its wild terrain.

It was this: with every passing day, you couldn't help but love it more.

...

The Spellman family wasn't the only one growing - other families, like Jake and Neytiri's, were also welcoming new life.

The Sully family had been growing with each passing year, filled with love and life. Now, once again, they were awaiting a miracle - another child, still growing in their mother's womb.

...

A narrow stream whispered as it flowed over the stones.

Four children splashed through the shallows, their bare heels kicking up water, laughter ringing out over the bubbling current. One, playing the role of "tag," lunged to grab his sister's shoulder, but she leapt away with ease, ducking behind an exposed root before springing forward again. The arc of water she left behind shimmered in the sunlight like a spray of glass.

Their father, Norm, sat on a large riverside rock, his avatar body still and grounded. Hands folded, knees drawn up, his eyes followed every burst of motion. In his gaze was quiet pride and a gentle warmth-he gathered their joy like sunlight and seemed to hold it, only to return it with a soft, knowing smile.

When the youngest Na'vi boy stumbled, Norm instinctively leaned forward, ready to catch him. But the boy was already laughing, scrambling up, and dashing after the others. Norm eased back again, letting the game carry on, flowing freely with the stream.

Max walked quickly toward Spellman's communication station, holding the crying Y/n tightly against his chest. She wasn't responding to any of his attempts to calm her down.

"Norm, buddy, please-disconnect already!" he said anxiously, rocking the child in his arms. But his efforts only made her cry louder.

As if the gods themselves had heard his plea, Norm disconnected from his avatar at that very moment. Max immediately started tapping on the tablet with one hand, still holding the ssobbing

Y/n with the other as she clung to his shoulder.

"What happened?" Norm asked in surprise as he sat up and reached out for her.

Max passed the child into her father's arms.

"Come here, my girl... my little one," Norm murmured softly. "My little girl is already three years old, isn't she, Y/n?" he said, kissing her on the forehead.

"Her tears are worse than any crash or system overload," he sighed with quiet bitterness, watching as she finally began to breathe calmly against his shoulder.

"She misses you, Norm. A lot," Max added, his voice low.

He fell silent for a moment, searching for the right words.

Max lowered his eyes and shifted his shoulders awkwardly.

"No one expects you to be perfect," he said quietly.

"But they all need at least a present dad, Norm. Not someone burning himself out trying to be everywhere at once."

Silence followed. The only sound was Y/n's steady breathing as she nestled against her father a soft, living reminder of what all this was for.

Norm didn't answer. He stared past Max's shoulder, his fingers still gently stroking his daughter's back. But his gaze had drifted far, lost somewhere beyond the station walls.

He nodded - not in agreement, but in acknowledgment. A quiet admission.

"Yeah... I know," he murmured. "I've known for a while."

...

The Spellman household was lively and warm the children were having lunch, chatting across the table and chewing loudly. To an outsider, it might have seemed like chaos, but for them, it was the most familiar and comforting part of the day.

Askuuk, the eldest son, and his sister Kel'ha sat proudly on one side of the table - the morning hunt had been a success, and it was thanks to them that the family had fresh meat and root vegetables today.

"Vi'an, sit properly and eat in silence," Kel'ha said sternly, not even looking up from the food in her hand.

Her voice was aimed at their younger brother, who, paying no attention to his tired sister, bounced on his seat while voicing the animal toys in front of him.

"Grrr! I'm the hunter from the great forest, and you're my prey!" he growled, making his thanator figurine pounced.

Kel'ha clenched her jaw.

"Vi'an... I swear, I'll turn you into a hunting trophy myself."

"Pfft...!" Luta barely held back a laugh, covering her mouth so she wouldn't give herself away. Her twin, Tita, only rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Is he ever going to grow up?"

Askuuk shot Vi'an a stern, almost fatherly look.

"Papa will be back soon with Y/n. Eat before it gets cold. And stop talking to your food."

With that, he finally turned his attention to his own plate, tearing into a piece of meat with practiced ease after the long morning hunt.

Across the table, Erao quietly set aside a portion of food a careful arrangement of meat and vegetables —saving it for their father without saying a word.

Luta and Tita exchanged a glance. "He's always so serious," Luta whispered, not with mockery, but with a quiet note of respect.

"Yeah." Tita nodded, biting into a piece of root vegetable.

Vi'an frowned but obediently began to eat, occasionally glancing toward the door as if hoping their father would walk in any second.

Erao finished setting aside the food for Norm, carefully covering it with a broad leaf to keep it warm. "He's just gonna say he's not hungry again..." he muttered. "But I know. He's just forgotten what it's like - to eat on time."

[mira-atakirina]

And here we go again?...

- Dad! - You screamed in despair, running to the huge screen on the building that was currently broadcasting. Your father was going to commit suicide to save the earth and his loved ones.

How he regretted not telling Stone that he loved him, that he was not only his friend, but something more. How he wanted to tell his daughter to her face how much he loved her and was proud of her.

And that he regrets that he couldn't be a better father to you.

Ivo Robotnik trusted the first person he met, and now he regrets it so much that he completely forgot about his own child, focusing exclusively on taking over the world and Gerald's fake kind smile.

If he can't take over the world, he'll at least save it.

- My beloved and only daughter, I love you, baby. - He moved on to you after he opened up to Stone, he couldn't leave you without telling you his last words. He knew that Stone would take care of you, that he would be a better father than he was.

All the events of his life, from childhood to adulthood. Graduating from school with a gold medal, entering the best university, getting a high-paying job. Receiving fame for his inventions... And the birth of a child he loved with all his heart. The difficult fate of the Worker, which he overcame and became the best version of himself.

The last words he wanted to convey were said.

...

You and Stone returned home, neither of you talking to each other on the way back, just hugging each other tightly before going to bed.

[reader] was in shock, she was stunned and desperate, she wanted to cry and scream. She didn't want to admit that all this was real, her only loved one had died. To save their world.

But honestly, she would sacrifice the world for the person she loved.

Was that really what Shadow felt?

A burning pain in her chest, a desire to burn everything around her, to destroy everything, leaving nothing but emptiness.

The girl cried into her pillow all night, trying to drown out her pain, to be strong for her family and friends.

...She is not alone yet.

...

[reader] was still crying, although she had long since fallen asleep. She needed time for the pain to pass, that's what heroes say in movies, right?

The previously clean pillow absorbed all her grief, all her tears of regret.

Shadow appeared in the middle of her bedroom and stood there, sympathetically watching her cry and sob in her sleep.

Hedgehog walked up to her bed, stood by her face and gently brushed a strand of wet hair from her forehead.

He knew how much it hurt, but he couldn't do anything for you. You can't bring the dead back to life. No matter how much he himself dreamed about it for fifty years in the capsule.

Mobian could only wipe your wet face with his palms now. As if he could absorb your grief through the fabric of his gloves, he even wanted to do that. If only you weren't suffering.

Shadow leaned towards your face and kissed your forehead. Memories of her came to mind, how she could convey all the love through that touch.

He made the right decision, Maria would definitely want peace, for her loved ones to be happy.

He is not alone, he has you. I hope you think about him too.

[mira-atakirina]

when she is the daughter of Eggman Rabotnik...

And here we go again?...

Oh, this stupid series about a love triangle, but so addictive... You were now sitting on the couch and watching these hot male twins fight for their love for one woman.

Shadow said that the main character should kill them both. The girl waved it off, not paying attention to what was said.

- It's so romantic when they fight for your heart. Despite the probable death, - you sighed dreamily, folding your palms on your chest towards your heart, imagining how the most handsome and popular guys in school fight for your attention.

Stone smirked in the background and shook his head, oh, these teenage girls.

Shadow looked at you, raising an eyebrow in bewilderment, no matter how similar you were to Maria, you are still a different person with your own thoughts. Comparing you at the first meeting was basically stupid. You will never be her.

...

Two episodes passed, as you passed out and lay down on the couch with your legs stretched out. You were sleepy, after such events with your father and grandfather and with other colored aliens. You wanted to rest so much.

Shadow stole a glance at you, he had been standing there throughout the entire series. Even when you offered to sit next to you. Was he afraid of you?... Nonsense.

And yet the hedgehog risked coming closer to you, he was drawn to you like a magnet. And as soon as he was at your face, he looked at every scar on your face, every mole, and every hair.

He carefully watched your breathing, how you inhaled air into your lungs and exhaled it through your nose. Shadow seemed to be watching himself from the outside, unable to control his actions. As if he was now in a movie and watching himself in the third person.

The black hedgehog extended his palm to your face. Feeling the flow of air from you even through the fabric of the glove. He smoothly ran his hand over your head and carefully pushed the hair away from your face so that it would not interfere with your sleep. Then he gently placed his palm on your heart.

For some reason, it calmed him down. Every beat of your heart echoed in his palm, telling him loudly that it was still working perfectly. Pumping blood throughout your body.

Maria's face suddenly appeared before his eyes, without breath, without a heartbeat, without lines on her eyes, as she smiled brightly.

Shadow pulled away abruptly, taking his hand away from you, pressing it to himself.

N̷o̴,҈ y̶o҈u҉ c̶a҉n̸'҉t҉,̷ n̶o̴t̸ a҈g҈a̶i҉n҉.̶ T̷h҉i҈s҈ c҉a̷n̸'̶t̶ h̵a̷p҈p҉e҉n҈ a̷g̴a҈i̷n̷.̴

S̴̜̗̭̯̪͈̮̗̙̮̯̝̠̱̟͙̥̳͙͓͎̲̈́́̒͊̀͑͂̋̀͒́͋̉̿͑̒̓͛̄̚ͅT҈͕̘̖̲̣̘̩̯̲̘͔̘̳̲̪̫̐͒͊̅̀́̐̓̊̉̈̊̀̆̈̏͋̍̃̃̽Ō̸̗̩̩͎̤̪̱͔͎̰͉̠̠̣͍̩̲̠̙͎͒̊̒̋̆̓̏͒̏̾̈́̊̊̈́̌̎̂̋̎P̷̳̱̖͇̪̫̦̗̫͖͙̮̘̯̥̝͈̲͎̈̀͛̅̄̍̑̊̈́̂̀͑̓̋̀́ͅ!

[mira-atakirina]

The reader is the daughter of Ivo Rabotnik, who is a copy of Maria Rabotnik.

And here we go again?...

No one guessed or even suspected... That this madman even managed to have an affair, not to mention that he could have a child...

Well, he had no plans to start a family. But since it happened that way. He hid it pretty well, so that no one would hear about you.

Only when she grew up, his daughter was finally able to visit him and spend time with him. But instead of spending time with her, he was always busy with his plans. Creating new machines and improving them, never messing up his schedule. Which Stone personally took care of.

And after the blue hedgehog appeared, he forgot about you altogether, as you thought. Concentrating on destroying his sworn enemy. You talked about his work, which could end in a quarrel or punishment for the girl. For example, a ban on gadgets and freedom, that is, house arrest.

It wasn't long before your father fell into depression. You were more than happy when Sonic and his friends suggested teaming up. There was hope that your father would change for the better.

When you had to split into pairs so everyone could enter each room, you were paired with an echidna who kept telling herself there was nothing to be afraid of.

Shadow stopped breathing, noticing her in the distance. A painfully familiar silhouette of that very Maria. He was like a hypnotist, staring at the girl. But after looking closely, he realized that you are not her, he was disappointed in his stupid thoughts about this, and with difficulty, with pain in his chest, he took a breath.

When everyone was tied up, you were tied up alone and sat against the wall. Meanwhile, the anthropomorphic friends sat together. Except Stone.

Shadow kept his frowning gaze fixed on you, examining every wrinkle and mole on your face.

Your father returned with some old man who called himself your father's grandfather, meaning your great-grandfather. Your brain was ready to explode.

It wasn't fair to abandon new friends, you refused to do it.

Gerald looked at you in shock, seeing his dead granddaughter in you again. He knew, of course, that he had another granddaughter, but to be so similar...

For a second, his heart trembled. But the darkness in his soul was stronger. So he threw away all the feelings in his heart of ice.

Shadow couldn't help but see Maria in you again, his heart sank painfully. But his stone face didn't betray his emotions at all. Right now, revenge for Maria's death was a priority.

But was it worth it?... Closing his eyes and remembering all the happy events with Maria before her death, until her last breath and heartbeat.

[mira-atakirina]

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[mira-atakirina]

WHEN HE IS JEALOUS:

Lo'ak:

The tail will twitch uncontrollably from side to side, showing displeasure and pressing the ears. Lo'ak will throw displeased glances at you and your friend. Of course, Lo'ak understands that he is not your only close friend, and you have every right to be friends with others.

But inside, it is as if sharp claws are scratching his soul. The boy feels outside of society, and believes that he does not belong to his family. And his only close friend can be taken away by someone else...

Tell him how dear he is to you, not only with words and actions, he will trust you more and withdraw into himself less...

Spider:

This guy doesn't want to show his jealousy, it's wrong of him, and he doesn't want to be a freak in your eyes. A freak who doesn't want his close friend to communicate with anyone else but him.

The young man understands that you wouldn't trade him for another, it's just... He's never felt like a full member of the family, except in a way. Unless it's his adopted Na'vi siblings.

This nasty feeling controls him, making him jealous of almost everyone around you. His lungs lack oxygen, his limbs grow cold, and he begins to tremble slightly.

"You smile so brightly at others. Please, just don't leave me alone..."

Neteyam:

He will weigh everything, wondering why he reacts to you this way when someone makes physical contact with you, or when you seem happier with someone else. These are just momentary unpleasant feelings, you shouldn't be offended by such stupidity, in his opinion. He will joke about it, how he suffers from it.

-I feel so bad, I can't see you being so nice to others, I'm so jealous... - in a feigned sick voice he rolls his eyes, putting the back of his hand to his forehead.

BONUS

Tuktirey:

Children can be very jealous, especially when you pay attention to another girl, playing with her cut-out ikran figures. The child will ask you directly.

"Why did you play with her? And not with me..." offendedly pouting her lower lip, a little more and a tear is about to roll down her cheek.

- No! Play with me, otherwise I will be offended! - childish manipulation.

[mira-atakirina]

WHEN SHE FLIRTS...

Lo'ak:

"Give me something to eat..." he says with his mouth full of food, barely able to squeeze out the words. Because his girlfriend decided to flirt again. As usual.

"Do you know what the difference is between you and the stars?" the girl asked rhetorically. The guy, waiting for another phrase to get acquainted, sighed heavily, nodding as a sign of "what?".

"The stars only shine at night, and you always..." , Lo'ak laughed loudly, and the remains of the food flew out of his mouth. Each time, like the first time, it embarrasses and amuses him at the same time, and, of course, he does not forget to answer with the same phrases.

Spider:

"Oh, Eywa..." he turns away from you, embarrassed. " That's too [your name]..." he whispered softly, turning back to her. The young man is raging hormones from puberty, and here you are. If before, when he was younger, he didn't pay attention to it, now he understands it. And every time he smiles like an idiot in his opinion, but in reality his smile is brighter than the sun.

After telling him about it, he sheepishly jumped off the mountain away from you... Don't worry, he landed safely on the ground. He is a strong man.

Neteyam:

"Hey angel, did it hurt when you fell from heaven to earth?" ,[Your name] asked with incense. "Let's just say..." Neteyam crouched down in front of the girl, his eyes never leaving her face, and before she could respond, he grabbed her face with his huge hands.

"You're so adorable." He squeezed her cheek with his fingers, pulling it to the side. He can't help but tell you at times like these how adorable and sweet she is. And when you flirt, he just laughs sweetly and thanks you.

Ao'nung:

"Why is the water in all seas salty, do you know?" - the girl smiled, raised her eyebrows and played with them. The Na'vi sighed irritably.

"Well?" - he had no desire to listen to what she was going to tell him, since he himself knew the reason for the saltiness of the sea.

"I salted it for you, because you are too sweet..." - it seemed like several minutes of silence passed, and the guy was silent and did not react to her words. The future chief smiled broadly and beckoned with his finger to himself.

"Come here," - the native asked as if ordering. When the girl was already standing in front of him, he put a large and heavy hand on the top of her head.

"Are you trying to win my favor? Or my heart?" - the guy's charming voice made you hold your breath and sharpen your hearing to better hear his melodic notes in his voice. You were caught off guard.

[mira-atakirina]

[mira-atakirina]

Askuk Spellman, Norm's adopted son.

a story about the Spellman children will be released soon, wait 🙏

The drawing and character belong entirely to me, please do not appropriate it for yourself.

[mira-atakirina]

Oh no!...

[mira-atakirina]

They is hot...

[mira-atakirina]

When the reader is their older brother:

You are about five years older than the turtles

You have a lot of responsibility for your younger brothers

Splinter jokingly says that you are the favorite firstborn among the boys.

«It's a joke, Mikey, don't cry...»

Mikey loves to cook with you and talk about everything, even if you are just washing the dishes, he will sit next to you and chat with you.

When the younger ones are rude to you, your argument as the oldest child in the family is: "I washed your butt when you were a baby", to which Leo replies: "Turn around, I'll pay you back"

You want to swaddle him and put a pacifier in his mouth.

When the younger ones didn't listen, you put them in the corner.

The guys still remind you of this with resentment, and you shrug your shoulders and say: “I don’t remember that.”

Mom's roots are emerging. Imao.

Raphael respects you as an older one and listens to your opinion

One day, to your surprise, you find a nearly intact teddy bear near the trash cans.

Before you gave it to Raphael, you of course put the bear away.

It's his favorite teddy bear.

Donnie can be rude to you from time to time, just like Leo, you have the same arguments with him as Leo does.

Donnie rolls his eyes at this, which earns him a good slap on the back of the head.

You periodically visit his lab with a plate of fruit pieces.

You don't want your brother to kick the bucket before his time.

Your dad Splinter doesn't know what he would be like without you. It would be hard for him to go through all the events that happened at the beginning of his new life as a rat.

He will always be grateful to you, all his beloved sons in his heart.

P. S. I don't speak English and my humor may differ

[mira-atakirina]

When will she become an artist:

Loak:

He looks at the sketches of the people in your album and starts hooting.

- Just look at how many naked women there are, [your name]. Giggling, he looked at you and returned to the drawings.

He especially likes to look at your sketches and wag his tail. And he likes it even more when he is painted. If he were on earth, he would gladly buy all your portraits. He's the kind of person who would ask you to draw this or anything at all.

Neteyam:

- I really like the way you draw every detail... He runs his fingers over the dried paint as carefully as possible. - From an early age, you drew the best of all, it was not for nothing that they said that you were talented! The guy exclaimed. He really likes what you do, not everyone is given such patience and hard work for the sake of what they love.

Spider:

– Draw me a spider! – He batted his eyelashes, waiting for you to answer. He already has a thousand of your drawings from childhood. When you picked up a pencil, the Spider always asked him to draw something. But right now his most favorite drawing is the one where you depicted him as a na'vi. He really likes it.

Kiri:

- Draw a Spider in the form of a monkey... –She covered her snide smile with her hand, imagining her heavenly friend's reaction. She keeps each of your drawings with her. Kiri loves it when you draw sky people and na'vi. As she says, you feel the colors, you can draw what is inside every living person.

Ao'nung:

-And how can such small fingers do this? - the guy praised you again, in his own way. He doesn't admit it directly, but he really admires your work. When they start tattooing his body, the future leader will first ask you to draw him sketches, you will be trusted more in this regard. And then other water na'vi will ask you to tattoo them too. You will get your place in the clan

Tsireya:

-Did someone teach you this or did you learn it on your own? - Tsirea asks interestedly, holding the Na'vi drawings in her hands. They seem alive to her, how is that possible? It was simply impossible in their minds, but you are capable of creating living art.She always looked into your eyes with disbelief and admiration when she saw your drawings.

Rotxo:

-Don't listen to Ao'nung, he just doesn't know how to give compliments. - Roto smiles innocently as he watches you draw something again on the thin white leaves, or papers as you call them. There is no limit to his delight: Roto has offered to have you make patterns on the bodies for his clan. The boy, like Ao'nung, will ask [your name] to draw him patterns for his second birthday.

Norm Spellman:

Prayers Spellman... "Not again, Jesus..." but they didn't help him, and once again his work was rejected. Norm, of course, was pleased and proud of his future artist, but why should he have to endure all this suffering, the loss of his papers.....

The scientist saved all your scribbles from your childhood, and now he looks at them with a smile. What a cheeky little kid you were with colors all over your face. There are many children's drawings hanging above his desk, including your favorite one of the whole Spellman family.

[mira-atakirina]

I love TMNT, I accept your requests.

P. S. I own this drawing, and please do not take it without tagging me...