Before dawn, Pandora standard time, across a stretch of steep, rocky terrain thirty kilometers southeast of the Sanctuary.
Disregarding his unhealed injuries, Tsu'tey personally led a detachment composed of forty-odd of the radical faction's most loyal warriors, slipping silently into the sector. According to intelligence provided by a hunter who claimed to have witnessed the "Sky Demons" operating here, this location was suspected to house a temporary Predator encampment.
Tsu'tey's right arm remained tightly bound in thick herbal bandages, the plasma-scorched flesh sending throbbing waves of pain through his frame, but this torment only hardened his resolve. He could not afford to wait any longer.
Seze's narrative of "caution" and "cooperation" was securing mounting support within the clan, while the consecutive, surgical strikes targeting radical elements had left his followers restless and anxious. He had to secure a victory—a genuine, bloody victory—to reverse this decline and prove that the courage and strength of the Na'vi were entirely sufficient to overcome any adversary, without ever needing to rely on the whims of the Sky People.
"Korak's blood cannot have been spilled in vain," Tsu'tey lowered his voice to speak to his lieutenant, a young hunter named Tano, his eyes burning with the fire of vendetta. "Today, we will use the heads of these monsters to honor all our fallen kin."
Tano nodded vehemently, tightening his grip on his longbow.
The remaining warriors in the detachment maintained solemn expressions; most were avengers who had lost family and companions, their absolute hatred for the Predators driving them to follow Tsu'tey on this perilous venture. They fanned out in a traditional Na'vi hunting formation, leveraging the jagged crags and bioluminescent nocturnal lichens for cover, dissolving into the canyon's complex terrain like water droplets soaking into sand.
Ikran riders circled in the high altitude above the gorge, utilizing their height advantage to conduct reconnaissance. On the ground, three specially trained viperwolves kept their heads low, sniffing the earth to capture any abnormal scent in the air.
Minutes ticked past. The canyon remained locked in dead silence, save for the whistling wind passing through the rocky fissures.
"No signs of activity detected," a hunter responsible for coordinating with the Ikran riders reported in a low whisper. "Even beast tracks are sparse."
Tsu'tey frowned. Was the intelligence flawed? Or had the monsters already departed?
Just as he hesitated over whether to command a withdrawal, a sudden anomaly erupted.
"Ah—!"
A brief, agonizing shriek cut through the left flank of the detachment, followed immediately by the heavy thud of a body colliding with the earth. Every individual's heart tightened as they instantly went into combat posture, bows drawn to their limits and spears leveled toward the vector of the sound.
"What happened?" Tsu'tey demanded sharply.
"I—I don't know! Kazan just collapsed! We didn't see anything attack him!" a panicked response relayed from the left flank.
Tsu'tey signaled two warriors to investigate.
Approaching their fallen companion with utmost caution, they discovered the hunter named Kazan lying flat on his back, a razor-thin, almost invisible laceration running across his neck as blood gushed from the wound. His eyes were wide, filled with the sheer confusion and terror of his final moments. There was no sign of an enemy nearby, nor any scorch marks left by energy armaments.
"It's—it's those invisible demons!" a young hunter's voice trembled.
Panic began to spread through the detachment like a contagion. An invisible adversary was the ultimate terror.
"Maintain formation! Back-to-back!" Tsu'tey roared, attempting to stabilize morale. "They are close! Use your ears, use your noses, use every sense Eywa has granted you!"
Before his voice fully faded, another muffled grunt and the sound of a falling body echoed from the right rear. This time, the group caught a fleeting glimpse of a blurred shadow flashing past, its velocity defying comprehension.
"There!" Tano reacted with exceptional speed, his poisoned arrow instantly leaping from the string. The shaft vanished into empty air and embedded itself into the distant rock face with a sharp ting, clearly missing its mark.
Immediately following, assaults materialized from multiple directions concurrently.
There was no hiss of plasma arcs, no thunderous clash of clashing metal. There was only the faintest rush of wind, the dull sound of blades tearing through flesh, and Na'vi warriors collapsing one after another. The attackers behaved like literal phantoms, leaping and materializing across the rocky shadows, each brief manifestation accompanied by a surgical, fatal strike. They appeared intimately familiar with Na'vi combat methodologies, invariably cutting into the weak points of their defense, specifically targeting the neck, joints, and neural queue junctions.
Tsu'tey roared, swinging his bone axe with his left hand as he lunged toward a blurred silhouette that had just manifested and was on the verge of vanishing again. Yet his execution was slowed by a fraction of a second due to the injury in his right arm, and the axe blade carved only empty air.
In the next instant, a sharp agony erupted from his left calf. Looking down, he saw a deep laceration that bared the bone had appeared out of nowhere, blood rapidly saturating his leg wraps.
"Olo'eyktan!" Tano cried out in alarm, attempting to sprint over to provide cover.
"Disregard me! Organize the defense! Deploy the smoke!" Tsu'tey roared through the intense pain.
Several hunters quickly retrieved pre-prepared plant bulbs that generated dense, irritating smoke upon combustion, smashing them violently against the ground. Off-white smoke rapidly billowed outward, completely obscuring all vision.
The tactic yielded some efficacy. The frequency of the assaults dropped noticeably; evidently, the opposition was equally disinclined to engage in an environment completely devoid of visual markers. Yet the smoke similarly blinded the Na'vi's own vision and coordination. The detachment was fractured, isolated into pockets of individual struggle.
"Withdraw! Retreat toward the canyon exit!" Tsu'tey knew this hunt was an absolute failure, executing a decisive command to fall back.
The withdrawal degenerated into a rout.
Amidst the smoke and chaos, Na'vi warriors fell one by one. The attackers appeared to intentionally allow a portion of the element to escape, focusing their primary lethality heavily upon Tsu'tey and his core circle of loyalists.
When Tsu'tey, supported by Tano and two remaining warriors, staggered out of the canyon in complete disarray, fewer than fifteen of the forty-odd elite hunters he had brought remained with him, and every single one bore injuries. Tsu'tey himself, addition to the wound on his calf, had suffered a deep gash across his back, blood staining the greater part of his body. They had not even witnessed the true countenances of their enemies, nor executed a single effective counter-strike; they were like a herd of driven prey, shattered and routed under the amusement of the hunters.
On the return journey, the survivors maintained an absolute silence, broken only by heavy breathing and suppressed groans. The shadow of failure and death weighed heavily upon every heart. Tsu'tey's face was deathly pale—not merely from blood loss, but from the shattering impact dealt to his core convictions.
When they finally sighted the familiar silhouette of the Hometree at the Sanctuary, a young hunter within the detachment could no longer contain himself, breaking down into a sob. That weeping was hoarse and desperate, serving as the definitive voice for the state of every radical warrior's mind at this exact moment.