Chapter 628: Direct Contact
The Na'vi mother rose alertly to her feet in an instant, her right hand instinctively resting on the bone dagger at her hip.
Despite being immersed in the grief of losing her child, instincts honed through long cycles of navigating conflict with the intruders kept her on high alert.
Her gaze was as piercing as a raptor's, locking onto the cluster of bioluminescent mushrooms where Rei Ayanami and the others were concealed. Her muscles tightened, ready to meet any sudden threat.
Rei ceased her soft humming that mirrored the forest rhythm, yet the tranquil, empathetic consciousness wave she projected continued to ripple outward without pause.
Understanding that any sudden motion might trigger an aggressive reaction, she began stepping out from the shadows of the giant mushrooms, moving with deliberate, gentle slowness.
Her hands were fully spread, palms facing upward to clearly display that she carried no weapons.
Every stride conveyed an unambiguous, non-aggressive posture, relying on the most direct visual cues to project peaceful intent.
Meanwhile, Asuka, Shinji Ikari, David Martinez, and Lucy remained concealed at their positions, holding their breath as they observed the unfolding situation. Their grips tightened around their gear, nerves taut, prepared to react if the standoff deteriorated.
When the Na'vi mother saw that the figure emerging was not one of the cold, metal-clad RDA soldiers reeking of gunpowder and machine oil, a flicker of genuine surprise crossed her golden eyes.
The slender Sky Person girl before her—with pale short hair and deep red eyes—felt entirely different.
The figure lacked the harsh scent of industrial manufacturing that she despised, instead radiating a peculiar, strangely familiar serenity.
That presence felt remarkably similar to the peace she experienced during Tsahaylu with her clan and great Eywa.
This paradoxical mix of the unfamiliar and the familiar loosened her taut posture slightly.
Yet the deep-seated mistrust forged over years of bloodshed could not vanish in an instant. Her hand remained on the hilt of her blade, her scrutinizing gaze unwavering, though the sharp edge of hostility softened a fraction.
"Who are you?" the Na'vi mother asked in her native tongue, her voice rasping with traces of sorrow.
Rei did not understand the language, but she perceived the questioning tone and the lingering grief behind it.
Rather than attempting a verbal response, she raised her hand once more, lightly tapping her temple with her fingers, pointing to the Na'vi mother, then to the small stone cairn, and finally pressing her palm against her own chest.
It was a gesture transcending language, communicating: I feel your pain.
This simple, direct sign touched the rawest depth of the grieving mother's heart.
Her eyes welled with moisture once more, her guard lowering another degree. She could sense that this strange Sky Person girl had not come to plunder or destroy.
At that moment, Shinji Ikari gathered his courage and stepped out from the concealment point as well.
Following Rei's lead, he spread his hands wide, his face showing obvious nervousness alongside sincere empathy. He clumsily mirrored Rei's earlier gesture—pointing to the cairn and then pressing his hand to his chest.
His visible anxiety and awkwardness made the sentiment appear entirely unfeigned.
Watching these two young Sky People express empathy toward her loss, the ice encasing the Na'vi mother's defenses began to thaw.
After a moment of silence, she spoke slowly in halting, heavily accented English: "You... not... with... the ones who cut the trees?"
She spoke human language. This discovery was a major breakthrough.
Rei nodded, responding with simple English words: "Not... with them. We... seek... understanding."
"Understanding?" the Na'vi mother repeated the word, her gaze carrying complex emotions. She looked between Rei and Shinji, her eyes then sweeping past them toward Asuka and the others who were cautiously stepping out of hiding. "Understand... what?"
"Understand... you. Understand... Eywa," Rei carefully assembled her limited vocabulary, gesturing toward the surrounding bioluminescent forest and the towering Hometree in the distance.
Hearing the name "Eywa," the mother's gaze softened noticeably.
Eywa was the bedrock of their faith, the unseen bond connecting all living things. Anyone displaying reverence or genuine curiosity toward Eywa was fundamentally different from the miners who sought only devastation.
Hesitating slightly, she pointed to herself and said, "I am... Tsu'tey."
It sounded like a chosen name, perhaps the only designation she was willing to share in that moment.
Then, pointing toward Hometree, her voice grew heavy with sorrow: "There... is my home. But... no longer safe."
She paused, adding with deep pain, "Sky People's machines... sound... too loud. The forest... is crying."
Through her broken English and the emotional currents read by Rei, the squad pieced together her circumstances.
She belonged to the Omaticaya clan. Her child had likely succumbed to the indirect fallout of RDA strip-mining—deafening industrial noise, pollution, or environmental displacement—though she avoided delving into specific details.
The tragedy had deepened her hatred for the Sky People, yet the crushing personal loss had temporarily detached her from daily tribal gatherings, leaving her to mourn alone beside this crude cairn.
Rei listened in silence, occasionally responding with a nod or simple words. She offered no empty platitudes, choosing simply to listen—a presence that served as solace in itself.
The exchange did not last long before distant calls echoed through the canopy; a patrol or family members were searching for her.
The Na'vi mother glanced alertly toward the sound and turned back to Rei's group: "You... must leave. If others... see you... they will kill you."
She paused, looking at Rei with a conflicted gaze: "You... are different. But... do not come back here. It is dangerous."
With that, she turned swiftly and melted into the deep shadows beneath Hometree's massive buttress roots.
The first contact had been brief and hurried, yet of tremendous significance.
They had encountered a bilingual Na'vi whose perspective was not entirely rigid, during a period of emotional vulnerability. More importantly, they validated the feasibility of Rei's consciousness-based communication, securing preliminary intelligence without triggering combat.
Bearing this valuable intelligence and the fragile link they had established, the five-person squad withdrew quietly from the Hometree perimeter, setting off back toward the outpost to report their findings to Ryo.
A tiny fissure had opened into the secrets of Pandora's ancient wilderness.