Eetu

The confrontation with the RDA had finally ended, and peace had at last come to the lands of the Aranahe Clan. The Na’vi were rebuilding what had been destroyed and, with particular care, were creating something new — from their village to the hopes of a brighter future.
But did you have a future? You were nothing more than a recom — an avatar into whose body the consciousness and memories of your past, real life had been implanted. Nothing more than a shell woven from the remnants of the past, rejected by all sides: both the RDA and the clans of Pandora. You didn’t even know whether you could be considered a new, separate person or just a template the scientists had created solely to work for them.
You were thinking about this as you limped, not without difficulty, to the riverbank and stopped there to rest for a while. The wounds from several bullet injuries in your thigh throbbed with pain; a partially broken arrow, soaked with poison, was lodged in the crook of your shoulder, stinging like a snake. The poison was spreading through your body, and you were running a fever. But no one cared about you. You didn’t belong to the human world, nor did you belong to Pandora — you were merely a parody of the life it had created.
As you closed your eyes, ready to simply give up and lean your back against the nearest tree, a faint rustle came from the bushes. Someone was watching you. But it all seemed so unimportant.