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She had a way about her that drew people in. Her gestures were animated as she spoke about something with fervor—herhands painting the air with her words. Her colleagues nodded, their faces alight with interest and occasional bursts of shared amusement. Even from this distance, I could see the genuine smiles she inspired in those around her.
There was an ease to her interactions, a fluidity that belied the fact she was still the unfamiliar face among them. Arlet wove herself into the fabric of their small community like a skilled artisan, blending threads until the pattern accepted her as part of its design. It was a skill that fascinated me; to adapt and blend so seamlessly required a keen understanding of human nature—something I was still learning to grasp.
She leaned back against a table strewn with maps and documents, sipping from a mug I presumed held coffee—a human addiction to warmth and caffeine I found curious. Her eyes scanned the documents before her, the light of intelligence in them unmistakable. She pointed to a section on one map, engaging in what appeared to be a serious discussion about their next project.
I couldn’t hear their words from where I watched, but it wasn’t necessary. Body language spoke volumes more than spoken language ever could. The way her colleagues leaned in toward her, how they nodded and gestured—they respected her thoughts and valued her input.
Despite this new beginning and all its challenges, Arlet had not only found her footing; she was running.
I shifted my weight slightly on the branch, my bronze skin blending perfectly with the tree’s bark. My presence was unnecessary here—her colleagues posed no threat. Yet still I observed, fulfilling my role as sentinel. It was duty that kept mehere, but also something more—an admiration for this woman who navigated through life’s currents with such grace.
The group broke into laughter again at something Arlet said. She threw back her head, allowing herself a moment of unrestrained joy. The sound resonated through the clearing and up into my hidden perch, stirring something within me—a sense of connection to this place and its people that I hadn’t expected.
I noted each person there: their faces, their mannerisms—their potential to harm or help Arlet. It was all part of my job to ensure nothing disrupted the delicate balance she had created here.
As the gathering dispersed, Arlet stayed behind to gather up the papers on the table. She stacked them neatly, sliding them into a folder with care that suggested reverence for the work she was undertaking. Then she turned and started walking toward the forest path—the one that would eventually lead her past my hidden position.
My muscles tensed in anticipation—not for action, but for observation as she approached. Her steps were confident yet unhurried; every move she made spoke of someone who had learned to find peace in each breath and step forward despite past turbulence.
And there I remained—silent and watchful—as Arlet passed below me on her journey deeper into both the forest and her new life.
Night fell like a thick curtain over the forest, its darkness an old friend to me. I circled Arlet’s cabin, my feet leaving no trace on the dew-kissed earth. The moon, a slender crescent, provided scant illumination, but my eyes cut through the gloom with keen night vision.
My nightly patrols became routine—a ritual that grounded me in this world so different from the sterile environment of Thion J5. The sounds of nocturnal creatures and the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze punctuated the silence of the night only.
As I moved, I remained ever vigilant, my senses extended to detect any threat that might approach. It was then I caught the distinct musk of a predator—a cougar drawn to the scent of human habitation. Its padded steps were cautious, stealthy, a mirror of my own.
With a silent command to the earth beneath me, I called forth a subtle vibration—enough to unsettle the creature without causing harm. The cougar paused, its ears twitching as it scanned its surroundings with wide, reflective eyes. Another gentle pulse from beneath the ground sent it bounding away into the darkness. It would hunt elsewhere tonight.
Arlet remained oblivious inside her cabin, her safety intact for another night. A faint smile crossed my lips as I resumed my patrol, but it quickly faded as solitude wrapped around me once more.
Loneliness was not an emotion I enjoyed; yet here among these ancient trees and under this vast sky, I could not deny its existence within me. Talos came for a purpose, not companionship—our lives were solitary by design.
The irony did not escape me; here I was on Earth, tasked with protecting a human who was forging connections with others while I remained in her shadow—an invisible sentinel.
I paused by a large pine tree, placing a hand against its rough bark. The living pulse of the tree resonated against my bronzeskin—a stark reminder that this planet thrived on connection and life in all forms.
Arlet had sparked an unexpected curiosity within me—a desire to understand what drove her passion for conservation and research. There was an authenticity to her actions that challenged my perceptions of humans as self-centered beings.
I glanced back at her cabin, where a single light still glowed through the window. She was up late again, no doubt immersed in her work or perhaps lost in thoughts of her own past—a past she sought to leave behind just as I sought an understanding of this new existence.
My gaze lingered on that window before turning back to the forest. This connection to Earth and its inhabitants—it was unfamiliar territory for someone like me. Yet as each day passed, I found myself more attuned not only to Arlet, but also to the natural world she fought so fiercely to protect.
I continued my silent circuit around her home, always close enough to intervene yet far enough to grant her the illusion of solitude. As much as I protected her from physical threats, I also guarded her right to live freely—without fear or awareness of my constant presence.
It was a strange duality that defined my existence now: guardian and observer, protector and ghost. And as dawn’s first light touched the horizon, heralding another day on this vibrant planet, I couldn’t help but wonder what revelations it might bring—for Arlet and for myself.
CHAPTER 3
Arlet
The morning mist hung heavy between the trees, their branches stretching skyward like skeletal fingers. I wove through the forest, a familiar path etched into my boots’ soles, the scent of pine and damp earth mingling in my nostrils. A red-tailed hawk screeched overhead, its cry piercing the quiet. My hands, gloved against the chill, clutched a clipboard to my chest—a shield of sorts against the unknown.
For days now, a prickling sensation had crawled along my spine whenever I ventured too deep into the woods. I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on me, tracking my every move. Today was different; today, I’d confront whatever—or whoever—had taken such an interest in me.
With a steadying breath, I laid out my plan. The trap wasn’t elaborate; it didn’t need to be. Nature was on my side. I gathered fallen branches and leaves, creating a semblance of a trail that veered off from my usual route. Hidden beneath a layer of detritus, I placed my old smartphone set to record any movement.
Nearby, I scattered some berries and nuts—irresistible to local fauna and hopefully distracting enough for whoever was tailing me. The slightest disturbance would send a notification to my watch, a simple but effective alarm system.
