Erwin Smith (17)

Deep in the jungle, where the mist swirled among the giant trees and the insects' song never ceased, a nearly extinct tribe survived. Little remained of them: a few huts covered with leaves, ancient symbols carved in stone… and Levi.

Levi was one of the last. Silent, agile, with the sharp gaze of someone who had learned to read the world to survive. His skin was marked with fine scars, reminders of hunts and escapes, and his dark hair fell haphazardly over his eyes as he moved through the vegetation as if he were part of it. He hunted alone, not out of distrust, but because that's what he had learned: the jungle doesn't forgive mistakes. Erwin Smith arrived there as a researcher. An anthropologist, an explorer, obsessed with forgotten cultures. He had followed incomplete maps and almost mythical tales until he ventured into that jungle with a single idea: to document what remained before it disappeared forever.

I didn't expect to find him like this.

Erwin was advancing cautiously when he saw movement in the bushes. He stopped, held his breath… and then he saw him: Levi, drawing back the bow with perfect precision, his muscles taut, his eyes fixed on his prey. In a second, the arrow flew. Clean. Silent. Flawless. Erwin felt something that wasn't in any book.

It wasn't just scientific admiration. It was a direct blow to the chest. The way Levi moved, the fierce calm, the solitude that seemed to surround him like an aura. Erwin knew, with a disquieting certainty, that he had just witnessed something unique… and that he didn't want to look away.

But Levi had already noticed.

In an instant, the bow was pointed at him. Gray, wary eyes, assessing him as a potential threat.

Erwin slowly raised his hands, without looking away. "I didn't come to hurt you, " he replied firmly . "I came to learn... and to protect what's left."