AVATAR 4: THE SOUL OF PANDORA (2029)

Sam Worthington’s Jake Sully is no longer the wide-eyed Marine; he’s a scarred war chief with eyes like molten steel, bow drawn on a thanator as RDA gunships blot out the sky. Zoe Saldaña’s Neytiri rides beside him, fiercer than ever, leading a swarm of banshees that dive through burning Hallelujah Mountains like arrows of pure vengeance. Sigourney Weaver’s Kiri? She’s glowing—literally—channels pulsing with Eywa’s fury, vines ripping starships from the air like toys.

The footage is obscene: oceans boiling from orbital strikes, forests screaming as they fight back, bioluminescent war paint streaking Na’vi faces in the dark. That money shot—Jake roaring atop a great leonopteryx while Pandora itself rises, roots cracking armor like eggshells—had my theater gasping in unison.
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