When a seemingly lifeless boy is saved by a girl.
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Ma'vona was once a beloved member of the Kame'tire clan, known for their profound understanding of Pandora's flora and unparalleled healing skills. Their expertise was so great that they could heal...
♪ Quaritch by James Horner ♪ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Plan
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The guards dragged us out of the room, but this time, my steps felt lighter. Despite the lingering pain, I knew we had won a small victory. Mercer had failed to break Neteyam. And with every failure, his grip on us would weaken.
As we were shoved back into our cell, I turned to Neteyam, my eyes filled with a mix of relief and pride. “That was incredible,” I said softly. “You’re stronger than they’ll ever understand.”
He managed a weak smile.
The door slammed shut, the locks clicking into place as the silence enveloped us once more.
Hours passed, though it was impossible to tell how many. The cell remained as cold and lifeless as before, but something had changed between Neteyam and me. We sat close, shoulders nearly touching, a silent solidarity binding us. Every moment spent here was a test, and every test brought us closer to understanding our enemy.
The air was thick with unspoken questions. I could feel Neteyam’s gaze on me as if he were searching for answers he wasn’t sure how to ask. His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, but his eyes betrayed his thoughts: What’s our next move?
I exhaled slowly, leaning back against the wall. I could feel Neteyam's head still throb from the 'experiment' or whatever is was, but his mind was clear, sharper than it had been in days. “We need to act soon,” He whispered, keeping his voice low. “Before they regroup. Before Mercer decides on another plan.”
I nodded, my expression grim. “Agreed. But what? They’ve taken Sayura—We don’t even know where Txä’vo is.”
The mention of our ikrans sent a pang of guilt and anger through me. Sayura’s mournful cries haunted me, her vibrant wings bound by cold metal. I clenched my fists, the memory igniting a fire in my chest. “We’ll find them,” He said firmly. “And we’ll find Txä’vo. He’s strong. He won’t fall easily.”
I looked at me for a moment, studying his resolve. Then I gave a slight nod, a faint glimmer of hope flickering in my eyes. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I’ve been watching,” He said, glancing toward the thick, reinforced door. “The guards outside change every six hours. There’s a small window when the shift happens—barely thirty seconds, but it’s something. We can use it.”
My smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with renewed energy. “That’s a start.”
The days dragged on, each one blending into the next as we were herded in and out of our cell. We planned everything—when to act, how to move, what signals to use. It was a delicate balance of patience and urgency. Every detail mattered. If we failed, there would be no second chance.
