The Liquid Forest of Vuun-Ra

They had left the crystallized plains hours ago. Around them, the vegetation had transformed. No more arid lands of Sûn-kiir. Before them rose the Liquid Forest of Vuun-Ra, an ecosystem unlike anything Matt had ever seen—neither on Earth nor in the Prometheus Mission archives.  
The trees were alive, in the most literal sense. Their semi-organic, semi-crystalline trunks spiraled in impossible shapes, shimmering with shifting reflections. Their fluorescent foliage pulsed in rhythm with an invisible breath. The air itself hummed—as if the wind were singing.  
Matt looked up. Shapes floated between the branches—transparent creatures, resembling celestial jellyfish. Others, more discreet, climbed the trunks in silence, leaving behind biodegradable trails of light.  
"It’s like an underwater jungle… but in the sky," he murmured, awestruck.  
Around them, a strange peace reigned. Even sounds seemed filtered, absorbed by the forest’s living wood. It was hypnotic.  
Then, suddenly, silence became absolute.  
No vibration. No hum.  
Sehr’mana froze. Her breathing stopped cold. Matt saw it—her entire body stiffened, each muscle tense as a bowstring.  
"Shadu’m… k," she whispered, barely audible.  
He was about to ask what that meant when a deep roar shattered the ether. A split second later—a sharp whistle cut through the air.  
Matt saw a shape—too fast to describe—explode from the trees.  A predator.  A hunter.  
Quadrupedal, elongated, its skin covered in membranes that undulated like underwater algae. Its tail vibrated like a blade.  
*"RUN!"* Matt shouted.  
He grabbed Sehr’mana’s hand. The creature’s howl tore through the air. They ran.  
His instinct led him toward a blue gleam—a river, thinner than a stream, but swift. The water glowed with a cold, metallic light. Without thinking, he jumped.  
The impact was brutal. The water was freezing. But for now, he was safe. He turned.  
Sehr’mana hadn’t moved.  
She stood at the water’s edge, frozen, wide-eyed. Paralyzed.  
"SEHR’MANA!" he shouted, breathless. "COME ON!"  
She didn’t react.  
Her legs trembled. Her gaze was vacant, pierced by something deeper than fear—an ancient terror.  
He swore, swam to the bank, leapt out of the water. He grabbed her by the waist, not giving her a choice.  
"Sorry, but I’m not letting you die here!"  
He dragged her violently. He saw—just for an instant—the Shadu’m Kava’s tail skimming the surface. But the creature didn’t enter the water. It stopped at the edge, growling.  
The moment Sehr’mana touched the water, her whole body convulsed.  Her silent scream never left her throat.  She fought back—panicked, her nails clawing into his chest—until suddenly, she clung to him, gripping tightly, as if she would never let go.  
Matt swam as best he could, dragging her weight. The river widened.  
They drifted.  
The current carried them far—into a vegetal gorge. The sky closed in above them. The leaves folded like eyelids.  
Matt found a mossy crevice, almost like a small bed nestled into the river’s edge. He hoisted Sehr’mana onto it, then collapsed.  
Then, pain struck.  
A gash, deep in his left side.  Probably from the Shadu’m Kava’s tail.  
"AARGH!!"  
Sehr’mana did not move.  Still trembling.  Silent.  Her gaze locked on the water, like she was staring at a ghost.  
"Hey…" he rasped. "Why… does water do this to you…?"  
He picked up a stick, tracing shapes in the mud.  Circles.  Arrows.  He pointed—water, then her.  
She responded.  
She took the stick and drew a spiral. Then, figures connected to each other—beings. Bonds. A cycle.  
She poured a little water over it. Everything erased.  The lines vanished.  
She spoke:  
"Ush’tama."  
Then, struck the ground.  
"Akhr."  
Finally, she pointed to herself:  
"Thunaa… va Zhe’naar." 
Matt understood.  It wasn’t just fear.  Water—for her—was a taboo.  An enemy.  An end.  
"You… you jumped anyway. You knew. You knew what it meant…"  
He wanted to thank her.  To tell her he understood.  
But the world spun.  
His head dropped onto the moss.  His hand slipped over his wound.  His breathing was shallow.  He pressed a hand against the gash.  Blood.  Too much blood.  
"Ah…"  
And he blacked out.