~~~Superstes~~~UNDERGOING MAJOR EDITING

The Recom Room.

Neteyam cocked his head to the side, getting a better look at Txana and the baby. Then his eyes flickered towards Iwa. Eventually he put two and two together and realized that this baby was theirs. He could tell by the mixture of scents that the baby carried--a concoction of Iwa and Txana, and of course, the distinct smell of an infant child. 

"How many of you are there?" He asked, furrowing his brow. 

Txana chuckled. "There's only one more of us--he's around your age. Viper. But he's not very... sociable." 

Viper. Neteyam wondered about the strange name of the boy that was apparently around his age. He'd met a couple of quieter Na'vi people, but it was odd for any of them to be sociably resigned considering the bond and unity clans shared. 

Then Neteyam's blood went icy cold because of what he noticed. 

The three of them, the new people he'd just met, each standing in a row together as if to block off the doorway that would grant Neteyam freedom. Slowly his physical body began to express the emotions he was feeling—pinned down and scared. He subtly lifted his gaze over Txana's shoulder, and he set down his cup of golden sauce. 

It was like a light switch went off in his brain. Panic spiked in his heart again.

Before any of them knew what he was doing, Neteyam darted towards the doorway and pushed through the people surrounding him. Multiple arms and hands tried to grab him, but he sprinted down the hallways as fast as his legs could carry him and felt his lungs burning with the effort. His feet slapped the tiled floors as he ran down every corridor he could locate, until he found a door that would give him an exit. 

People were shouting behind him. 

Neteyam kept running. He skidded into a hallway that had a steel door at the end, but when tried to open it, the door didn't budge. His vision was flashing with different colors as he heard the others running up behind him, making no way for him to escape as they stood at the start of the dead end. He frantically looked behind him and pounded on the metal doors, snarling in desperation. 

"Neteyam, stop!" Iwa shouted, holding out his hands. "Just calm down!" 

"You are not keeping me here!" Neteyam screamed, throwing his shoulder at the door. Linayin and Txana were standing on either side of Iwa, appearing to be lost on what to do. Linayin began to speak but Neteyam didn't hear a word over the sound of adrenaline pulsing through his ears.

"You are going to injure yourself!" Txana screamed at him, her muscles tensing with the effort of raising her voice. 

All Neteyam felt was layers of fear rippling through the fiber of his being. He continued to bang and punch at the door as he let out a series of Na'vi curses. The force of his effort created dents and marks against the metal door, but he didn't stop. 

That was until a loud pop went off and he was suddenly staring at a small bullethole that shot through the steel.  

Neteyam froze. He slowly turned his head to see Quaritch standing behind the three recoms, pointing a gun at the boy. There was a maddened expression of insanity that infected his stone-cold features. 

"Don't do this," Iwa told the older man, his eyes frantically wide. "Put the gun down." 

Neteyam's feet were stuck to the floor, and he felt as if nothing were moving except for the rapid beating of his heart. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the pistol that was gripped between Quaritch's fingers. He didn't feel anything other than terror. 

Txana took a step back, so she was level with Quaritch. She tried to place her hands on his arm, making an attempt to take the gun, but Quaritch shook her off and aimed it back towards Neteyam. 

The demon fired again. 

A burning, sizzling pain sliced through Neteyam's left shoulder and he cried out, dropping to the floor with a thud. He pressed his face against the cool steel door and sobbed, muttering useless statements that tumbled out of his mouth subconsciously. His sensitive hearing recognized the phrases as be calm in the Na'vi language. 

There were shouts of protest when Quaritch began walking forward. 

"If any of you move one inch, I will shoot this boy in the skull!" Quaritch snarled, his words slurred and unfocused. 

"You're drunk!" Txana cried out desperately, but the man ignored her. Her hand was protectively pressed against her baby's little head. 

Quaritch didn't wait one second before he stomped his foot down on Neteyam's ribs, over and over again. Eruptions of sickening pian exploded beneath Neteyam's skin. Quaritch kicked him in the sides and even in the face with no signs of regret in his eyes. Then, he finally stepped back and huffed, "That was for Fike. And for the three other avatars you murdered in that wretched helicopter." 

Neteyam choked out a laugh and swallowed the blood that had pooled in his mouth. He felt as if he were going insane himself. The vision in his right eye was completely gone. He weakly lifted up his good arm and gave Quaritch the middle finger. 

The last thing Neteyam saw before he was enveloped into the darkness was his arm slumping back down and Quaritch walking away, while Linayin Txana, and Iwa each came rushing to his side. But he allowed the blackness to take him with a feeling of rebellious pride blooming in his chest.    

Romans 8:18-the pain that you have been feeling, can't compare to the joy that's coming.