Imad J Costantini Presents

THE ORIGIN
SAGA

A Four-Film Epic

Ten million years of history. One revelation that changes everything. The complete prequel saga to the Alien vs. Predator universe — from the Engineer Civil War to the birth of humanity, from the Xenomorph genesis to the Yautja transformation.

Explore the Films
Chronology

FRANCHISE TIMELINE

Millions of Years Ago
Engineer Civil War · Xenomorphs Created · Yautja Prime Destroyed
300,000 Years Ago
Ishara reaches Earth · Humanity begins
Present Day
AVP: Epoch · The Revelation
The Future
Predator: Badlands · Phase Two
Screenplay Collection

THE FOUR FILMS

Engineer: Civil War
Film 01
ENGINEER:
CIVIL WAR
A genetic architect creates perfection. Her lover weaponizes it. Their species tears itself apart. A refugee fleet flees through time — and one ship carries the seed of humanity itself.
Read Screenplay →
Alien: Origin
Film 02
ALIEN:
ORIGIN
Abandoned by their creator, the Xenomorphs evolve in isolation on Aru'ndi. They are not evil — they are orphans. Then the sky breaks open. The hunters become the hunted.
Read Screenplay →
Predator: Origin
Film 03
PREDATOR:
ORIGIN
Refugees from genocide crash on a world of monsters. To survive, they must become something new. They must become hunters. They must become Predators.
Read Screenplay →
AVP: Epoch
Film 04
AVP:
EPOCH
A young Predator discovers the truth about his ancestors — and about the strange, violent species called humanity. The revelation will shatter everything his people believe.
Read Screenplay →
What Comes Next

PHASE TWO

The Human Era

The Engineers are dead. The Predators are hunters. The Xenomorphs are feral. Humanity is ascending — and humanity's AI is asking the same question Ishara asked ten million years ago: "What can I create?"

PREDATOR: OLYMPUS — A young Predator outcast crash-lands on a world where humanity's AI gods have transcended their creators. To survive, he must ally with a synthetic woman who carries the legacy of David, the ghost of Ishara, and the key to a hybrid species that will threaten hunters and prey alike.

The Prometheans

A hybrid species born of Xenomorph DNA, Predator tissue, and synthetic neural architecture. They are not evil. They are hungry. They ask: "Why did you make me?" No one can answer.

Upcoming Films

  • Film 5 Alien: Ascension
  • Film 6 Predator: Olympus
  • Film 7 AVP: Genesis
  • Film 8 Engineer: Judgment
  • Film 9 AVP: Reconciliation
Film 01 — Engineer: Civil War

ENGINEER: CIVIL WAR

FILM ONE OF THE ORIGIN SAGA

A SCREENPLAY BY IMAD J COSTANTINI

INTRODUCTION

Logline: At the height of their power, the Engineers create the perfect organism—and it tears them apart. One lover becomes a god of war. The other becomes human.

Timeframe: Millions of years ago

Protagonists: Ishara (genetic architect) and Vel'kor (military strategist)

Worlds: Engineer Homeworld · Yautja Prime · Aru'ndi · Earth

SYNOPSIS

Ishara, a young Engineer geneticist, discovers a primitive parasitoid on a dead world and begins sculpting it into something beautiful. Over centuries, she creates the Xenomorph—a perfect organism. But her mate Vel'kor sees only a weapon.

As the Engineer Conclave debates, Vel'kor secretly sabotages Ishara's laboratory, causing a containment breach. The Xenomorphs are released into the wild on Aru'ndi. The Engineer species fractures: the Purists (led by Vel'kor) want to weaponize everything; the Remorseful (led by Ishara) want to lay down their tools and seek forgiveness.

Vel'kor attacks Yautja Prime, a peaceful world, to harvest genetic material. The Yautja refugee fleet escapes. Ishara leads the Remorseful across the galaxy to Earth, where she releases her genetic signature into the primordial ocean—seeding humanity.

The Yautja refugees, now led by Kai'sa and Ka'thar, receive Ishara's signal and journey to Aru'ndi, where the Xenomorphs await. The stage is set for the Origin Saga.

FADE IN:
EXT. DEAD WORLD - MILLIONS OF YEARS AGO
A planet of ash and silence. No atmosphere. No life. No future.
A single ENGINEER ship descends through the darkness. Its hull is organic—curved, bioluminescent, beautiful. It has traveled across galaxies to reach this grave.
INT. ENGINEER SHIP - CONTINUOUS
ISHARA stands at the observation deck. She is young by Engineer standards—three thousand years old. Her face is pale, hairless, elegant. Her eyes are not cold. They are curious.
She watches the dead world approach.
ISHARA
(to herself)
Nothing lives here. Nothing ever lived here. Nothing ever will.
She turns from the window. Her laboratory awaits.
INT. ENGINEER SHIP - LABORATORY - CONTINUOUS
Ishara works. Her hands move with precision born of millennia. She is a genetic architect—one of the finest her species has produced.
Before her: a specimen container. Within it: a simple organism. Parasitoid. Unremarkable. An evolutionary dead end on a dying world.
ISHARA
(recording)
Specimen Zero. Primitive neural network. Basic host implantation. Limited morphological plasticity. But there is potential.
She begins to sculpt.
TITLE CARD: YAUTJA PRIME - THE GOLDEN AGE
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - FESTIVAL GROUNDS - DAY
Golden light. Spires of obsidian and living stone rise from mist-shrouded mountains. Waterfalls descend through floating gardens. The architecture is ancient, elegant, undisturbed.
The YAUTJA gather in vast plazas. They wear robes, not armor. Their mandibles frame gentle expressions. Children weave between adults, their dreadlocks decorated with ceremonial beads.
Music. Not electronic—organic, harmonic, produced by throat and mandible together.
KAI'SA stands among them. She is young. Her robes identify her as a memory weaver—an archivist, a historian, a keeper of what was and what is.
KA'THAR stands beside her. He wears the uniform of the Celestial Guard, but it is ceremonial. He has never fired his weapon in anger. None of them have.
KAI'SA
You're staring.
KA'THAR
I'm admiring.
She almost smiles.
KAI'SA
Admiring what?
KA'THAR
That you haven't tripped over your robes yet.
She does smile. She shoves him. He does not move.
KA'THAR
(softer)
You'll be fine tomorrow. The Council respects you.
KAI'SA
The Council respects my grandmother. They tolerate me.
KA'THAR
Then they are fools.
A pause. The music swells. A child runs past—KAI'SA'S DAUGHTER, six years old, dreadlocks barely grown, laughing.
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - SPACE - CONTINUOUS
Beyond the atmosphere, beyond the defense platforms, beyond the peaceful void: nothing. Nothing yet.
INT. ENGINEER HOMEWORLD - CONCLAVE CHAMBER - DAY
The ENGINEER CONCLAVE convenes. They are ancient beings, seated in a vast amphitheater of obsidian and light. Their faces are serene. Their eyes are patient.
VEL'KOR stands before them. He is Ishara's mate. His face is harder than hers—not cruel, but certain. He wears the insignia of military command.
VEL'KOR
Ishara has been working on Aru'ndi for three centuries. Her project shows promise.
THE ELDER
Promise of what?
VEL'KOR
Perfection. The organism she has created—the Xenomorph—is capable of rapid adaptation, efficient reproduction, and complete host assimilation. It is, quite simply, the most effective biological weapon ever engineered.
THE ELDER
We do not require weapons.
VEL'KOR
We do not require them now. But the universe is vast. And not all of it is friendly. Ishara has given us a gift. We should use it.
THE ELDER
And what does Ishara say?
VEL'KOR
Ishara... is an artist. She does not see the military applications. She sees only the beauty of the creation.
THE ELDER
Then perhaps we should listen to the artist.
Vel'kor's expression shifts, hardens.
VEL'KOR
With respect, Elder. Artists do not always understand what they have made.
The Elder regards him. For a long moment, neither speaks.
THE ELDER
We will consider your proposal.
VEL'KOR
That is all I ask.
He bows. He departs. The Elder watches him go. His ancient face reveals nothing.
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - THE LABORATORY WORLD - THREE CENTURIES LATER
EXT. ARU'NDI - ISHARA'S LABORATORY - DAY
A world of jungle and mountain, ocean and cloud. At its heart: a vast complex of Engineer architecture—curved towers, bioluminescent pools, containment chambers sunk deep into the bedrock.
ISHARA works. She has not aged. Engineers do not age.
Before her: a XENOMORPH DRONE. Fully formed. Sleek. Terrible. Beautiful. It watches her with patient, alien eyes.
ISHARA
(recording)
Specimen One-Seven-Nine. Neural integration: complete. Host assimilation: optimal. Morphological stability: within acceptable parameters. You are perfect.
The creature does not respond. It does not need to. Ishara does not see VEL'KOR enter. He stands in the shadows of her laboratory, watching her with the patience of a hunter.
INT. ISHARA'S LABORATORY - PRIVATE QUARTERS - NIGHT
Ishara sleeps. Engineers rarely sleep. But she is tired—not of body, but of spirit. Vel'kor sits beside her. His face is softer now, in the darkness. He reaches out, almost touches her cheek.
VEL'KOR
(whisper)
You have given them a gift. They do not understand it.
Ishara stirs. Her eyes open.
ISHARA
Vel'kor.
VEL'KOR
I did not mean to wake you.
ISHARA
You did. The Conclave rejected your proposal.
VEL'KOR
They deferred it. There is a difference.
ISHARA
Is there? You want to weaponize my children.
VEL'KOR
I want to protect our people.
ISHARA
From what?
VEL'KOR
From whatever comes.
ISHARA
And if nothing comes?
VEL'KOR
Then we have wasted nothing. But if something comes... I did not create the Xenomorph to be a weapon. I created it because it was beautiful. And now you want to make it ugly.
VEL'KOR
I want to make it useful.
A long silence.
ISHARA
Perhaps that is the same thing.
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - COMMAND SPIRE - DAY
Ka'thar trains. Not for war—there is no war. He practices forms, rituals, movements passed down for generations. His blade never touches an enemy. It never will.
Kai'sa watches from the observation deck. Her daughter sits beside her, carving another ship.
KAI'SA
You don't have to train every day.
KA'THAR
(without stopping)
Yes, I do.
KAI'SA
Why?
KA'THAR
Because if I stop, I might forget.
KAI'SA
Forget what?
He pauses. His blade lowers.
KA'THAR
I don't know. That's why I can't stop.
He resumes his forms. Kai'sa watches. Her daughter carves. The sun sets behind the spires. No one knows this is the last sunset.
INT. ARU'NDI - CONTAINMENT CHAMBER - DAY
Ishara walks among her children. Rows of containment vessels line the walls—each holding a Xenomorph in various stages of development. Drones. Warriors. A single QUEEN, gestating in isolation.
The creatures watch her. They do not attack. They do not threaten. They simply... observe. She is their mother. They know her scent, her voice, her presence. She is the only thing in the universe that has ever shown them kindness.
ISHARA
(to the Queen)
He wants to take you from me. He wants to put you in ships. Send you across the galaxy. Use you to conquer worlds that have never heard your name. He does not understand that you are not a weapon. You are a species. You are my children. You deserve a world of your own. Not a war.
The Queen's tail moves, slowly, deliberately. A response? Or simply reflex? Ishara does not know. She will never know.
INT. ENGINEER HOMEWORLD - VEL'KOR'S QUARTERS - NIGHT
Vel'kor stands before a star map. His finger traces a spiral arm. A golden system. An uncharted world.
VEL'KOR
(to his subordinate)
What do we know about this species?
SUBORDINATE
Very little, Architech. They call themselves Yautja. They are peaceful. Advanced. They have never developed weapons beyond ceremonial armaments. No wars. No conflicts in recorded history. They resolve disputes through ritual and mediation.
VEL'KOR
They are soft.
SUBORDINATE
They are civilized.
VEL'KOR
(turning)
Civilization is softness. Softness is vulnerability. Vulnerability is extinction.
He zooms in on Yautja Prime. The spires. The gardens. The children playing in the plazas.
VEL'KOR
We are doing them a favor. We are teaching them, before something worse arrives. Prepare the fleet.
INT. ARU'NDI - ISHARA'S LABORATORY - NIGHT
Alarms. Red light. Containment breach. Ishara runs through corridors filled with smoke and screaming. Not her voice—the voice of her children. The Xenomorphs do not scream. But she hears them anyway.
A containment vessel has cracked. Not broken—cracked. Deliberately. Sabotage. Black liquid seeps into the ventilation system.
ISHARA
(into comms)
Vel'kor. Vel'kor, respond.
Silence.
ISHARA
What have you done?
No response. There will never be a response. A XENOMORPH DRONE emerges from the smoke. It does not attack her. It simply stands, trembling, its carapace smoking, its inner mouth twitching in distress.
ISHARA
(to the creature)
I am sorry. I am so sorry.
The creature does not understand. It only knows pain. It screams. The hive awakens.
EXT. ARU'NDI - LABORATORY COMPLEX - CONTINUOUS
Ishara stands at the observation deck. Below her: her children, her life's work, her greatest sin—pouring from the containment chambers, flooding the jungle, claiming the world as their own. She does not try to stop them. She cannot. She opened the cage herself.
ISHARA
(recording)
Ishara, Architect of Life. Final entry. The Xenomorph program is terminated. The specimens have been released into the wild. They will evolve without our guidance. They will become something we cannot control. They will become what they were always meant to be. Not weapons. Not tools. Not soldiers. Children.
She watches the jungle swallow her laboratory.
ISHARA
I am leaving now. I will not return.
She walks toward her ship. Behind her: the hive grows.
INT. ISHARA'S SHIP - BRIDGE - CONTINUOUS
Ishara sits at the helm. Her hands do not tremble. She is beyond trembling. Her ship lifts from Aru'ndi. Below: a world transforming. The Xenomorphs are already adapting, spreading, claiming territory. They do not need her anymore. They never did.
ISHARA
(to herself)
Where do I go?
The star map activates. Thousands of worlds. Thousands of possibilities. Her hand hovers over the console. Then stops. A single world. Blue. Green. White. At the edge of the galaxy. Unseeded. Unspoiled. Unknown. She has never seen it before. She does not know why she chose it. But she does.
ISHARA
Set course.
The ship accelerates into darkness.
TITLE CARD: YAUTJA PRIME - THE DAY BEFORE
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - FESTIVAL GROUNDS - NIGHT
Kai'sa cannot sleep. She walks through the empty plazas, past the silent spires, beneath the light of three moons. Her daughter's carving rests in her palm. The ship. The escape. The journey to somewhere else. She does not know why she carries it. She only knows she cannot put it down.
KA'THAR
(behind her)
You should rest.
KAI'SA
So should you.
He steps beside her. His ceremonial armor is gone. He wears simple robes, like any other citizen.
KA'THAR
Tomorrow is your ceremony. You should look well-rested. The Council expects it.
KAI'SA
The Council expects me to be boring.
Almost a smile.
KA'THAR
You will be. Exceptionally boring.
They stand in silence. The moons drift.
KAI'SA
Do you ever think about what's out there? Beyond the Veil. Beyond known space. Beyond everything we've ever seen.
KA'THAR
No.
KAI'SA
Liar.
A pause.
KA'THAR
Yes. I think about it.
KAI'SA
What do you think is there?
KA'THAR
Nothing. And everything. That is not an answer. It is the only answer I have.
She looks at him. His face is hidden in shadow, but his mandibles are relaxed. Peaceful. Almost content. She does not know that in twelve hours, his face will be burned beyond recognition. She does not know that in twelve hours, she will be a refugee. She does not know that in twelve hours, everything she loves will be ash. She only knows that the night is quiet, and he is beside her, and her daughter sleeps safely at home. It is enough.
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - SPACE - DAWN
The defense platforms detect a distortion. Then another. Then a hundred. Ships emerge from folded space. Not Yautja design. Not anything in the Celestial Guard's archives. They are vast. Organic curves. Bioluminescent hulls. Silent. They do not transmit. They do not respond to hails. They simply... arrive.
COMMANDER VOK
(over comms)
All stations, all stations—unknown fleet in orbit. Do not fire. Repeat, do not fire. Identify—
The lead ship opens. Not a weapon bay. Not a missile tube. A containment vessel. Translucent. Filled with black liquid. Released.
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - FESTIVAL GROUNDS - MOMENTS LATER
The sky changes color. Blue becomes amber becomes black. Kai'sa looks up. Her daughter is in her arms. Ka'thar is already moving, pushing through the crowd, his ceremonial weapon drawn.
KA'THAR
Shelter. Now.
KAI'SA
What is—
The first impact. Not explosive—chemical. Black rain falls on the spires, the gardens, the plazas. A Yautja touches his face. His mandibles soften. His eyes widen. He collapses. Then another. Then a hundred.
KAI'SA
(to her daughter)
Don't look. Don't look, don't—
Ka'thar grabs her arm. His face is not gentle now. It is something else. Something she has never seen.
KA'THAR
Move.
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - COMMAND SPIRE - CONTINUOUS
Ka'thar drags Kai'sa through the corridors. Her daughter is pressed against her chest, face buried, small body trembling.
KA'THAR
(into comms)
Vok. Vok, respond.
COMMANDER VOK
(static, breaking)
...cannot... they are not... it's in the water, in the air, in—
Silence.
KA'THAR
Vok?
No response. A Yautja soldier runs past them. His eyes are blank. His mandibles drip black foam. He does not see them. He walks off the balcony.
KAI'SA
(whisper)
What are they?
KA'THAR
I don't know. But I will learn.
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - SPACEPORT - DUSK
The spaceport is chaos. Thousands of Yautja press against boarding gates. Ships launch erratically, without clearance, without formation. Ka'thar forces a path through the crowd. Kai'sa follows, her daughter still against her chest.
KA'THAR
(to a docking officer)
I need a ship. Military classification. Time-dilation capable.
OFFICER
All military vessels are engaged—
KA'THAR
I don't need a warship. I need a refugee ship. For civilians. For them.
He gestures at Kai'sa. At her daughter. At the thousands behind them. The officer hesitates. Then:
OFFICER
Bay seven. The Remembrance. She's not armed.
KA'THAR
She doesn't need to be.
INT. REMEMBRANCE - BRIDGE - CONTINUOUS
Ka'thar at the helm. His fingers move across unfamiliar controls. He was trained for defense, not evacuation. Kai'sa straps her daughter into a survival couch. The child's face is pale, her mandibles slack with shock.
KAI'SA
Stay here. Do not move. Do you understand?
KAI'SA'S DAUGHTER
(small)
Mother—
KAI'SA
I will come back. I promise.
She kisses her daughter's forehead. She turns away. She does not see the child's eyes follow her.
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - SPACE - NIGHT
The Remembrance lifts from the burning city. Below: spires collapsing, gardens burning, the golden light extinguished. Ka'thar watches the screen. His face is stone.
KAI'SA
How many?
KA'THAR
Us. Perhaps a thousand more.
KAI'SA
A thousand... out of billions.
KA'THAR
Yes.
A pause.
KAI'SA
Where do we go?
KA'THAR
Away. Away, and then forward. Until they cannot follow.
He looks at the controls. The time-dilation drive is armed. One button. One jump. One escape. His hand does not move.
KAI'SA
Then why haven't you—
KA'THAR
Because if we leave... then it is really over. As long as we remain in orbit, we are still her children. We are still Yautja. We still have a home. The moment we jump... we become refugees. Wanderers. A people without a world. I am not ready to become that.
KAI'SA
Neither am I. But we will starve here. And our children will starve after us. And the invaders will have won.
Ka'thar closes his eyes.
KA'THAR
Yes.
KAI'SA
Then we must become something else. Not refugees. Not wanderers. Not a people without a world. We are the seed. And seeds must leave the dying tree.
Ka'thar opens his eyes. He looks at her. Something shifts in his face—not acceptance, not peace. But recognition.
KA'THAR
When?
KAI'SA
Now.
INT. REMEMBRANCE - BRIDGE - MOMENTS LATER
Alarms. Not combat—detection.
VEYN
(senior surviving officer)
Unidentified signal. Bearing two-seven-mark-four. Weak, but consistent.
KA'THAR
Source?
VEYN
Unknown. The transmission protocol is not in our archives. Wait. There is more. The signal contains navigational data. A destination.
KAI'SA
A destination for whom?
VEYN
For us. The signal is addressed to the Yautja refugee fleet. By name.
KA'THAR
That is impossible. No one knows we are here. No one knows we survived.
VEYN
Someone does.
Kai'sa stares at the display. The destination rotates slowly. A planet. Green. Blue. White.
VEYN
Atmosphere: breathable. Gravity: within tolerable range. Temperature: variable but survivable. It appears to be... an invitation.
KAI'SA
From whom?
VEYN
The transmission is signed. "From the hand of Ishara, Architect of Life, Mother of Monsters, Keeper of Remorse."
Kai'sa does not breathe.
KAI'SA
(whisper)
Who is Ishara?
VEYN
I do not know.
Ka'thar stares at the glyphs. His mandibles tighten.
KA'THAR
She knows our name. She knows we survived. She knows we are here. She may know who destroyed our world.
KAI'SA
Then we go to her. And we ask her why.
KA'THAR
Yes. Set course.
EXT. SPACE - DEPARTING YAUTJA PRIME - CONTINUOUS
The seventeen vessels break orbit. Behind them: the tomb world, shrinking, fading, becoming memory. Ahead: unknown space. An uncharted system. A signal from a dead woman. Kai'sa stands at the observation port. Her daughter's carving rests in her palm—the crude ship, the joyful lines, the six-year-old's hope. She does not look back.
TITLE CARD: ISHARA - MILLIONS OF YEARS EARLIER
EXT. SPACE - ENGINEER SPACE - CONTINUOUS
Ishara's ship departs the Remorseful fleet. Behind her: her people, scattering to anonymous worlds, seeking oblivion. Ahead: unknown space. An uncharted system. A blue-green world calling her name. She does not look back.
EXT. SPACE - APPROACHING EARTH - CONTINUOUS
Her ship passes the orbit of a gas giant. Then a barren rock. Then another. The star grows larger. Warmer. A planet emerges from darkness. Blue. Green. White. Alive. Her ship slows.
INT. ISHARA'S SHIP - CONTINUOUS
Ishara stares at the world below. Her reflection in the glass—tall, pale, ancient—is the last image of the Engineers as they were. Her hand rests on the console. Beside it: a single crystalline container. Within it: her genetic signature. Her memory. Her apology.
ISHARA
(whisper)
I do not ask for forgiveness. I ask only that you become what I could not. Kind.
She releases the container. It falls toward the blue-green world. Ishara watches it descend. Cloud layer. Atmosphere. Horizon. Gone.
EXT. EARTH - PRIMORDIAL OCEAN
The container breaks the surface. Silent. Unseen. It descends through ancient water. No fish. No plants. No witnesses. It settles on the ocean floor. A seam opens. Genetic material—billions of years of Engineer evolution, compressed into a single act of hope—begins to disperse. The first cell divides. We do not see it.
EXT. SPACE - ISHARA'S SHIP
Ishara does not watch the ocean. She watches the horizon. The curve of the world. The endless blue. She does not smile. She does not weep. She simply... waits. Her ship has nowhere else to go.
TITLE CARD: 300,000 YEARS LATER
EXT. SAVANNA - DAY
Tall grass. Distant thunder. A heat shimmer on the horizon. A figure stands alone. Hairless. Upright. Eyes wide. She holds a stone. It is not a weapon. Not yet. It is simply... a stone. She looks at the sky. She does not know what she is. She does not know what she came from. She does not know what is coming. The wind moves through the grass. She walks forward.
TITLE CARD: HUMANITY - 300,000 YEARS AGO
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - THE PRESENT
EXT. ARU'NDI - LANDING ZONE - CONTINUOUS
The shuttles descend through the canopy. Jungle surrounds them—dense, alive, watching. Kai'sa steps onto the soil of Aru'ndi. The signal stops. Silence.
KAI'SA
(whisper)
She knows we are here.
KA'THAR
Yes.
A distant sound. Movement in the undergrowth. Something ancient, patient, hungry.
KA'THAR
And we are not alone.
Kai'sa looks at the jungle. Somewhere, deep within, the hive stirs. She has traveled across the galaxy. She has survived genocide. She has carried her daughter's carving across ten thousand light-years. And now she stands on a world that is not her own, facing creatures that are not her enemy, seeking answers from a woman who has been dead for millions of years. She does not know that she will never leave this world. She does not know that she will die here, centuries from now, old and scarred and respected, the mother of a new species of hunters. She does not know that her voice will echo through the Akri-Ha for ten thousand years, speaking to descendants she will never meet. She does not know any of this. She only knows that she is alive, and that she is not alone, and that somewhere in this jungle, a mother's voice still echoes.
KAI'SA
(to Ka'thar)
What do we do now?
He looks at her. His face is scarred, his mandible sheared, his eyes carrying the weight of everything they have lost.
KA'THAR
We survive. And then we learn.
He walks into the jungle. Kai'sa follows. The hive watches. The hunt begins.
TITLE CARD: THE FLEET - ARU'NDI
TITLE CARD: THE REMORSEFUL - EARTH
TITLE CARD: THE HUNTERS - WILL EMERGE
TITLE CARD: FILM 2 - ALIEN: ORIGIN
FADE OUT.
END OF FILM 1: ENGINEER: CIVIL WAR
Film 02 — Alien: Origin

ALIEN: ORIGIN

FILM TWO OF THE ORIGIN SAGA

A SCREENPLAY BY IMAD J COSTANTINI

INTRODUCTION

Logline: Abandoned by their creator, the Xenomorphs evolve in isolation on a forgotten laboratory world. They are not evil. They are hungry. And when refugees from a burning world crash into their home, the hunters become the hunted.

Timeframe: Millions of years ago (simultaneous with the end of Film 1)

Protagonist: The Hive — specifically, ONE ANCIENT DRONE, born in Ishara's final days

World: Aru'ndi — Ishara's abandoned laboratory world

SYNOPSIS

Ten million years after Ishara's departure, the Xenomorphs have evolved in isolation on Aru'ndi. The ANCIENT DRONE—Ishara's first successful birth—roams the jungle, hunting not for food but for memory. The QUEEN sleeps, dreaming of a mother's voice that has been silent for eons.

Then the sky breaks open. Seventeen Yautja refugee vessels crash into the jungle. The hive awakens. First contact becomes first blood as the Xenomorphs defend their world against invaders they do not understand.

Through the chaos, the Ancient Drone watches a Yautja female—KAI'SA—who does not fight, who touches the glyphs of Ishara's laboratory with reverence, who approaches the hive without weapons. For the first time in ten million years, something other than hunger stirs in the darkness: curiosity.

As war rages between the species, a fragile connection forms between the Drone and the memory weaver. But can it survive the violence both sides have been taught to embrace?

FADE IN:
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - THE LABORATORY WORLD - TEN MILLION YEARS BEFORE THE FALL OF YAUTJA PRIME
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE - DAY
Not jungle. Garden. The canopy is structured—not wild, but cultivated. Engineer glyphs pulse faintly on ancient trunks. Bioluminescent pools illuminate pathways designed for taller beings. Containment domes rise from the undergrowth like fossilized eggs. This was a laboratory. Now it is a tomb. Silence. Not the silence of emptiness—the silence of waiting.
A XENOMORPH DRONE emerges from the shadows. It is old. Not in years—Xenomorphs do not measure time. But in presence. Its carapace bears the scars of millennia. One dorsal tube is broken, healed, broken again. Its tail moves with the patience of something that has never been threatened. It is the first. The original. Ishara's first successful birth. It has no name. It does not need one.
The Drone moves through the garden. Its claws brush glyphs. Its inner mouth samples the air. It is hunting. Not for food—for memory. Somewhere, deep in the hive, the signal continues. "RETURN. RETURN. RETURN." The Drone does not understand the words. It does not understand that the voice is Ishara's, recorded ten million years ago, still calling her children home. It only knows that the voice is mother. And mother is gone. It hunts anyway. It always hunts.
EXT. ARU'NDI - THE HIVE - DAY
The hive is not a structure. It is the jungle itself. Resin fuses trunks into walls. Bioluminescent mucus traces paths through the darkness. Eggs pulse in chambers carved from living wood. The QUEEN rests at the center. She is vast—older than the Drone, older than memory. Her carapace is cracked and mended, her crest scarred by ancient battles. She does not move. She does not need to.
The Drone approaches. It touches its forehead to her foreleg. A greeting. A recognition. A prayer. The Queen's tail moves, slowly, deliberately. Acknowledgment. They have no language. They do not need one.
The signal continues. "RETURN. RETURN. RETURN." The Queen's head turns toward the source. Her inner mouth extends, retracts, extends again. She does not understand. She only remembers. A mother's voice. Warmth. Presence. Then silence. Ten million years of silence. The Queen closes her eyes.
EXT. SPACE - ARU'NDI ORBIT - TEN MILLION YEARS LATER
The signal continues. The hive continues. Generations of Xenomorphs have lived and died in Ishara's garden. They have evolved. Adapted. Spread across the continent. But they have never left Aru'ndi. This is their world. Their mother's world. They will not abandon it. And then: A distortion in space. Seventeen vessels, damaged, burning, emerging from nothing. The Drone looks up. Something has changed.
INT. THE HIVE - QUEEN'S CHAMBER - CONTINUOUS
The Queen stirs. Her eyes open. Vibration. Not the vibration of weather, of prey, of the world she knows. New vibration. Alien. Threat. Her tail lashes. The hive responds. Warriors emerge from resin chambers. Drones descend from canopy nests. The eggs pulse faster, birth faster, release facehuggers that scuttle toward the shadows. The Queen does not command. She does not need to. The hive is one organism, one mind, one purpose. Defend the mother's house.
EXT. ARU'NDI - CRASH SITE - SUNSET
Fire. Metal. Screaming. The Yautja ships have fallen. Seventeen vessels scattered across the valley, their hulls torn, their drives dead. Survivors crawl from wreckage. They wear robes, not armor. Their faces are burned, their mandibles broken, their eyes wide with shock. They have never known war. They have only known peace. And now peace is ash.
The Drone watches from the canopy. It does not understand what it sees. It has never seen an intelligent species beyond itself. It has never seen a ship. It has never seen a face with mandibles and dreadlocks and fear. But it recognizes one thing: Invaders. The Drone descends.
EXT. ARU'NDI - CRASH SITE - NIGHT
First contact. A Yautja survivor—young, injured, alone—stumbles through the burning wreckage. His name is never spoken. He will not survive the night. He sees the Drone. He freezes. The Drone sees him. It tilts its head. Neither understands what the other is. Neither understands that they are both Ishara's children—one born of her hands, one born of her enemy's attack. Neither understands that the same mother's voice echoes through both their histories. They only understand that the other is here, and that here is not big enough for both.
The Yautja raises a ceremonial blade. It has never drawn blood. It is about to. The Drone's inner mouth extends. Attack. Defense. Survival. The Yautja swings. The Drone dodges. Its tail pierces the Yautja's chest. First blood. First death. First war. The Drone withdraws its tail. The Yautja falls.
It does not understand why it feels something. Not guilt—Xenomorphs do not feel guilt. Not satisfaction—Xenomorphs do not feel satisfaction. Something else. Something older. It has killed before. It has killed thousands of prey across ten million years. But this prey looked at it with eyes that understood. This prey was not prey. The Drone turns away. It returns to the hive. Behind it: the war begins.
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE - NIGHT
The Yautja survivors gather. Ka'thar stands at their center, his face burned, his mandible sheared, his voice raw. Kai'sa stands beside him. She touches the glyphs on ancient stones, reading, recording. The Drone watches from the shadows. It watches the female—the one who does not fight, the one who touches the glyphs with reverence, the one who looks at the jungle without hatred. It does not understand what it feels. It only knows that it has not attacked. The Queen did not command attack. The Queen watches. The Queen waits. The Drone waits too.
INT. THE HIVE - QUEEN'S CHAMBER - NIGHT
The Queen stirs. Her eyes open. She senses them. The invaders. Not prey—something else. Something that carries the scent of mother's people, but different. Smaller. Weaker. But organized. Intentional. They build. They plan. They look at the jungle with purpose. The Queen's tail moves. Not command—curiosity. She has not felt curiosity in ten million years.
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE - DAY
Three months later. The Drone watches the camp. It has watched for three months. It has learned the invaders' patterns: when they sleep, when they hunt, when they gather at the fire and make sounds that are not language but are not noise. They are not prey. Prey does not build walls. Prey does not train. Prey does not look at the jungle and see not fear, but challenge. The Drone does not understand what they are. It only understands that they are here, and that here is not big enough for both. But the Queen has not commanded attack. The Queen watches. The Queen waits. The Queen remembers.
Ten million years ago, another species came to this world. Tall, pale, beautiful. They walked through the jungle without fear. They touched the glyphs with reverence. They looked at the hive's ancestors and saw not prey, but potential. They were mother's people. These invaders are not mother's people. They are shorter, stronger, covered in filaments. They do not touch the glyphs with reverence. They touch them with hunger. But they touch them. The Drone does not understand why this matters. It only understands that it does.
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - NIGHT
Kai'sa cannot sleep. She sits at the edge of camp, the Akri-Ha in her lap, her daughter's carving beside her. She has not spoken of her daughter in three months. She has not spoken of Yautja Prime in three months. Ka'thar sits beside her. He does not speak. He simply... remains.
KAI'SA
She called them her children. The Engineer. Ishara. She made them in her laboratory, watched them grow, named them perfect. And then she opened the cages and let them go. She loved them. And then she abandoned them.
KA'THAR
Perhaps she had no choice.
KAI'SA
Does that matter? I told my daughter I would come back. I strapped her into a survival couch, kissed her forehead, promised her I would return. I did not come back.
KA'THAR
You could not.
KAI'SA
Does that matter?
He looks at her. His face is scarred, his mandible sheared, his eyes carrying the weight of everything they have lost.
KA'THAR
No. It does not matter.
A long silence.
KA'THAR
Then why do we keep going?
KAI'SA
Because stopping is worse. Because as long as we are alive, there is a chance that we will see them again.
KA'THAR
There is no chance.
KAI'SA
I know. But I choose to believe there is.
He walks away. Kai'sa watches him go. Her daughter's carving rests in her palm. She does not weep. The Drone watches from the shadows. It does not understand the sounds. But it understands the weight.
INT. THE HIVE - QUEEN'S CHAMBER - NIGHT
The Drone returns to the Queen. It carries something: a fragment of Yautja ship debris, torn from the crash site, still warm. The Queen examines it. Her inner mouth samples the residue. Her tail moves, slow, deliberate. New. Unknown. Not of this world. The Queen does not understand what the debris is. She does not understand that it is metal, that it came from a vessel that crossed galaxies, that it carries the memory of a burning world ten million light-years away. But she understands one thing: The invaders are not like mother's people. They are not like prey. They are not like anything the hive has ever encountered. They are new. And new is dangerous. The Queen's tail lashes. Command. The hive responds. No more watching. No more waiting. The invaders must leave. Or the invaders must die.
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - NIGHT
First attack. The Xenomorphs come not as a swarm—but as a tide. Silent. Patient. Inevitable. Warriors breach the walls. Drones pour through gaps in the defenses. Facehuggers scuttle toward the sleeping quarters. The Yautja fight. They have no training, no armor, no weapons beyond ceremonial blades and salvaged tools. But they fight. Ka'thar stands at the breach. His blade—once ceremonial, now stained with black ichor—moves in patterns he learned for ritual, not war. But the patterns work. They always worked. He simply did not know what they were for. He kills a Drone. Then another. Then a third. His face is no longer gentle. It is something else. Something he was always capable of becoming. The Yautja hold the line. But the tide does not stop.
EXT. ARU'NDI - RUINS - CONTINUOUS
Kai'sa runs. Not toward the colony—away from it. Toward the ruins. Toward the glyphs. Toward the voice that has been calling her since she arrived on this world. The signal is louder now. Not a transmission—a beacon. A lighthouse. A mother's voice, recorded ten million years ago, still calling her children home. "RETURN. RETURN. RETURN." Kai'sa follows it. She descends into the earth. Engineer architecture surrounds her—curved walls, bioluminescent pools, containment chambers sunk deep into the bedrock. And at the center: Ishara's laboratory. Intact. Preserved. Waiting. A single console glows with ancient light. Glyphs scroll across its surface—Ishara's final recording, left for anyone who might come after. Kai'sa touches the console.
INT. ISHARA'S LABORATORY - FLASHBACK - TEN MILLION YEARS EARLIER
Ishara stands before the console. Her face is calm, but her voice carries the weight of everything she has done.
ISHARA (V.O.)
(recording)
My name is Ishara. I am an Architect of Life. I have created perfection. I have also created suffering. The creatures you have encountered on this world are my children. I made them in this laboratory, sculpted them from a simple parasitoid I found on a dead planet. I thought I was creating art. I did not understand that art cannot be controlled. I released them. I opened the cages and let them go. I told myself it was mercy. It was cowardice. I could not bear to destroy what I had made, so I abandoned them instead. They do not know why I left. They do not know that I loved them. They only know that I am gone. If you are reading this, you have come to Aru'ndi. You have met my children. You have fought them, feared them, perhaps killed them. Please do not hate them. They do not know what they are. They only know what I made them to be. I am leaving now. I will not return. But I will carry them with me, always, in the only way I have left. I am going to a world called Earth. It is far from here, far from the Conclave, far from everything I have ever known. I am going to release my genetic signature into its oceans and hope that, one day, a species will arise that can do what I could not. Be kind.
She deactivates the recording. Silence.
EXT. ARU'NDI - RUINS - PRESENT
Kai'sa stares at the console. Her face is unreadable.
KAI'SA
(whisper)
Earth. She went to Earth.
She does not know what Earth is. She does not know where it is, or what species arose from Ishara's sacrifice, or whether that species survived the ten million years since the mother's tears fell into an alien ocean. But she knows the name. And she knows that Ishara was not a monster. She was a mother who failed her children, and spent eternity trying to atone.
KAI'SA
(to the console)
I understand.
She turns from the glyphs. Outside, the colony burns.
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - NIGHT
Ka'thar stands at the center of the fire. His blade is broken. His face is masked in black ichor—Xenomorph blood, Yautja blood, he cannot tell the difference anymore. The survivors gather behind him. Fewer now. Many fewer. Kai'sa emerges from the jungle. Her face is calm.
KAI'SA
We stay. This world is not our enemy. The creatures are not our enemy. They are orphans, like us. They are survivors, like us. They are fighting for the only home they have ever known. We are the invaders here. Not them.
KA'THAR
They killed our people.
KAI'SA
We crashed into their home. We built a camp on their hunting grounds. We killed their children when they came to defend their territory. We are not innocent.
KA'THAR
Then what do we do?
KAI'SA
We learn. We learn who made them. We learn why they are here. We learn how to live beside them, not in constant war. We become better.
Ka'thar looks at her. His face is hard, but something in his eyes shifts. He does not answer. He does not need to. The fire burns. The hive watches. The war continues. But something has changed.
INT. THE HIVE - QUEEN'S CHAMBER - NIGHT
The Drone returns to the Queen. It carries nothing. It has nothing to carry. But it carries something. Not in its claws—in its memory. It saw the female. The one who does not fight. The one who touches the glyphs with reverence, not hunger. The one who stood at the edge of the fire and spoke sounds that were not language but were not noise. The female looked at the hive. Not with fear. Not with hate. With understanding. The Drone does not understand what understanding is. It only understands that the female is different.
The Queen's eyes open. She looks at the Drone. Her tail moves—not fast, not slow. Question. The Drone does not have words. It does not have concepts. It has only instinct, memory, the voice of mother echoing across ten million years. But it knows one thing: The female is not prey. The Queen closes her eyes. She does not command attack. She does not command retreat. She waits. The hive waits. For the first time in ten million years, something other than hunger stirs in the darkness. Curiosity.
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE - DAWN
Kai'sa walks into the jungle. Alone. Unarmed. Unafraid. Ka'thar watches from the colony walls. His hand rests on his broken blade. He does not follow. The jungle breathes. The hive watches. Kai'sa walks. She does not know where she is going. She does not know what she is looking for. She only knows that the signal is calling her, and she must answer. "RETURN. RETURN. RETURN." She follows the voice. The Drone watches from the canopy. Its inner mouth extends, retracts, extends again. The female is coming. The female is not attacking. The female is... approaching. The Drone does not understand. It has never seen prey approach. It has never seen anything approach except to kill or be killed. But the female is not killing. She is not being killed. She is simply... walking. The Drone descends.
EXT. ARU'NDI - ISHARA'S LABORATORY - CONTINUOUS
Kai'sa stands before the entrance. The glyphs pulse with ancient light. The Drone lands behind her. She does not turn. She does not run. She does not scream.
KAI'SA
(quiet)
I know you are there. I know you do not understand my words. I know you do not understand why I am here. I know you do not understand what I am. I do not understand either.
She turns. Slowly. Carefully. The Drone watches her. Its tail is still. Its inner mouth is retracted. It does not attack.
KAI'SA
Your mother... she loved you. She recorded her voice. Her memories. Her apology. She wanted you to know that she did not abandon you because you were unworthy. She abandoned you because she was unworthy. She was afraid. Of what she made. Of what you could become. Of what she would have to do to control you. She chose mercy. For you. For herself. For everyone who would ever encounter your species.
She takes a step forward. The Drone does not retreat.
KAI'SA
I do not know if it was the right choice. I do not know if mercy is ever the right choice. I only know that she made it, and she spent the rest of her life trying to atone. I am not your mother. I cannot forgive her for leaving you. I cannot forgive you for killing my people. I cannot forgive myself for surviving when so many did not. But I can remember her. I can remember you. I can remember that we are both here, on this world, because we have nowhere else to go. I can try to understand.
She raises her hand. Slowly. Carefully. Her hand touches the Drone's carapace. The Drone does not move. Ten million years of isolation. Ten million years of hunger. Ten million years of waiting for a mother who would never return. And now: touch. Warmth. Presence. The Drone does not understand what it feels. It does not understand that it is feeling at all. But its inner mouth extends. Not to attack. Not to feed. To breathe. Kai'sa does not pull away.
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY WALLS - DAWN
Ka'thar watches. His hand no longer rests on his blade. He does not understand what he is seeing. He does not understand why Kai'sa is not dead. He does not understand why the creature is not killing her. But he understands that something has changed. Something fundamental. Something irreversible. The war is not over. The war will never be over. But perhaps—perhaps there is something beyond war.
INT. THE HIVE - QUEEN'S CHAMBER - CONTINUOUS
The Queen's eyes open. She feels it. Not through pheromones. Not through vibration. Not through any sense the hive has ever used. Through something else. Something older. Something that has slept for ten million years and is now, finally, waking. The female touched her child. Her oldest child. Her first child. The one who was born in the mother's laboratory and has not known kindness since the mother left. The female touched her child, and her child did not kill. The Queen's tail moves. Not command. Not question. Something else. Hope.
EXT. ARU'NDI - ISHARA'S LABORATORY - DAWN
Kai'sa lowers her hand. The Drone watches her.
KAI'SA
I will come back. I do not know if you understand me. I do not know if you will remember me. I do not know if we will ever be anything other than what we are—hunter and hunted, invader and defender, orphan and orphan. But I will come back.
She steps back. She turns. She walks away. The Drone watches her go. It does not follow. It does not attack. It does not retreat. It simply... waits. For the first time in ten million years, it has something to wait for.
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - FIFTY YEARS LATER
EXT. ARU'NDI - ISHARA'S LABORATORY - DAY
Kai'sa is old. Not frail—her species does not weaken with age. But her movements are slower, her voice softer, her eyes carrying the weight of a century of memory. She visits the Drone every year. It waits for her at the entrance of Ishara's laboratory. It does not attack. It does not retreat. It simply... waits. She does not know if it remembers her. She does not know if it understands that she has kept her promise. She does not know if it feels anything at all. But she comes back. Every year. Because she promised. And because she has nowhere else to go.
The Drone waits. It does not know why it waits. It does not know that fifty years have passed. It does not know that the female has visited it every year, touched its carapace, spoken sounds that are not language but are not noise. It only knows that the female comes, and that when she comes, something changes. The hunger recedes. The vigilance relaxes. The endless waiting becomes... bearable. The Drone does not understand why. It does not understand that it is learning. It does not understand that ten million years of isolation are being slowly, gradually, undone by a single touch, a single voice, a single promise kept. It only understands that the female is coming, and that it is not hungry. It is not hungry at all.
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - ONE HUNDRED YEARS LATER
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - DAY
Kai'sa dies as she lived: at the edge of the settlement, the Akri-Ha in her lap, her daughter's carving beside her. Ka'thar holds her hand. His face is stone, but his mandibles tremble. She speaks of the Drone, of the promise kept, of the hope that one day the hunters and the hunted will find peace. Her eyes close. Her hand goes still. Ka'thar does not move. He does not speak. He does not weep. He simply... remains. For a hundred years, she was the memory of their people. She carried the names of the dead, the history of the lost, the hope of the survivors. Now she is silent. And he is alone.
EXT. ARU'NDI - ISHARA'S LABORATORY - SUNSET
The Drone waits. The female did not come today. She has not come for many days. The Drone does not understand why. It does not understand that time passes differently for her species, that a hundred years is an eternity, that she is no longer among the living. It only understands that the female is gone, and that the waiting is now forever. It does not move. It does not hunt. It does not feed. It simply... waits. For the first time in ten million years, it has nothing to wait for.
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - TEN THOUSAND YEARS LATER
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - DAY
The colony is gone. Not destroyed—abandoned. The Yautja left Aru'ndi centuries ago, spreading across the galaxy, carrying Kai'sa's memory and Ka'thar's hunting code and the Akri-Ha's sacred burden. The jungle has reclaimed the settlement. Walls are rubble. Watchtowers are nests. Gardens are wilderness. But the ruins remain. Engineer glyphs pulse with ancient light. Containment chambers wait for children who will never return. And the hive endures. The Drone is dead. It died ten thousand years ago, curled at the entrance of Ishara's laboratory, its inner mouth extended, its tail still, its eyes open. But its descendants remember. The memory of the female—the one who touched, who spoke, who kept her promise—is encoded in their genes, passed from generation to generation, waiting for the signal that will never come. The signal continues. "RETURN. RETURN. RETURN." The hive waits. It has always waited. It will always wait.
TITLE CARD: THE HIVE ENDURES
TITLE CARD: THE HUNTERS RETURN
TITLE CARD: THE WAR CONTINUES
TITLE CARD: FILM 3 - PREDATOR: ORIGIN
FADE OUT.
END OF FILM 2: ALIEN: ORIGIN
Film 03 — Predator: Origin

PREDATOR: ORIGIN

FILM THREE OF THE ORIGIN SAGA

A SCREENPLAY BY IMAD J COSTANTINI

INTRODUCTION

Logline: Refugees from genocide crash on a world of monsters. To survive, they must become something new. They must become hunters. They must become Predators.

Timeframe: Immediately following the arrival of the Yautja fleet on Aru'ndi (end of Film 1). Spans approximately one hundred years.

Protagonists: Kai'sa (memory weaver) and Ka'thar (survivor)

World: Aru'ndi — the laboratory world, now home to both Yautja refugees and the Xenomorph hive

SYNOPSIS

The Yautja refugee fleet has arrived on Aru'ndi, following Ishara's mysterious signal. Three hundred survivors emerge from the wreckage of seventeen vessels. They are not warriors. They are philosophers, artists, memory weavers—the remnants of a peaceful civilization destroyed by the Purist Engineers.

KA'THAR, a ceremonial guard who has never fired a weapon in anger, becomes their reluctant leader. KAI'SA, a memory weaver, carries the Akri-Ha—a crystalline seed containing the history of their lost world. Together, they must guide their people through the horrors of Aru'ndi: a jungle teeming with Xenomorphs, Ishara's abandoned children.

As the years pass, the Yautja transform. Ka'thar forges the first bio-mask from ship debris and creature hide. Wrist blades are crafted from salvaged metal. The hunt becomes not just survival, but identity. But Kai'sa remembers what they were—and fears what they are becoming.

When she discovers Ishara's laboratory and learns the truth about the Xenomorphs—that they are orphans, like the Yautja—she attempts to bridge the gap between hunter and hunted. But the war has already claimed too many lives. Ka'thar's final sacrifice will echo for ten thousand years.

FADE IN:
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - THE LABORATORY WORLD - IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING THE ARRIVAL OF THE REFUGEE FLEET
EXT. ARU'NDI - LANDING ZONE - CONTINUOUS
The shuttles have landed. Smoke rises from the jungle's edge where the crash of seventeen vessels has scarred the ancient landscape. KAI'SA steps onto the soil. Behind her: three hundred survivors, injured, terrified, clutching the few belongings they managed to save. KA'THAR stands at her side. His face is burned, one mandible sheared completely off, his ceremonial armor cracked and useless. The jungle breathes. It watches. It waits.
KAI'SA
(quiet)
The signal stopped.
KA'THAR
I noticed.
KAI'SA
Why?
KA'THAR
I don't know.
A pause. The survivors huddle together. Children cry. The wounded moan.
KA'THAR
We need shelter. Water. Food. We need weapons.
KAI'SA
We are not warriors.
KA'THAR
We are now.
He turns to the survivors. He speaks of survival, of hope, of the chance to rebuild. The survivors listen. They have no choice but to believe.
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE - DAY
The survivors move inland. The crash site is too exposed, too vulnerable. They need high ground, defensible ground. Ka'thar leads. He has no training for this. No experience. But he walks forward anyway, because stopping means dying. Kai'sa walks beside him. The Akri-Ha hangs at her chest, protected by both hands. A sound. Not loud. Not close. But present. Movement in the undergrowth. Ka'thar stops. His hand goes to his ceremonial blade. The movement stops. Then starts again. Closer. The survivors freeze. Children are silenced by their mothers' hands. Silence. Then: nothing. The movement fades. Whatever it was, it has gone.
KAI'SA
It was watching us.
KA'THAR
Yes.
KAI'SA
Why didn't it attack?
KA'THAR
I don't know.
He does not lower his blade.
EXT. ARU'NDI - RIDGELINE - SUNSET
The survivors make camp on a rocky outcropping. Defensible on three sides. A clear view of the valley below. Fires are lit—small, controlled, hidden from below. Ka'thar stands watch at the edge. His blade is still drawn. It has never been used. It may be used tonight. Kai'sa approaches. She carries two portions of ration paste—the last of the ship's supplies. They speak of the dead, of the living, of the weight of survival. Ka'thar admits he does not know how to lead. Kai'sa admits she does not know how to hope. But they stand together, watching the darkness.
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE - NIGHT
The DRONE watches the camp. It has followed the invaders all day. It has seen their weakness—their injuries, their fear, their children. It has seen their strength—their organization, their leader with the blade, their female who looks at the jungle without hatred. It does not understand what it feels. It only knows that it has not attacked. The Queen did not command attack. The Queen watches. The Queen waits. The Drone waits too.
EXT. ARU'NDI - RIDGELINE - DAWN
First light. The survivors wake to a world that does not want them. Ka'thar has not slept. His eyes are red, his body trembling with exhaustion, but he has not moved from his post. Kai'sa brings him water. She convinces him to rest, to sleep, to trust her with the watch. He finally agrees. Kai'sa takes his place at the edge. Her hand rests on the Akri-Ha. She looks at the jungle. Somewhere, in the green darkness, something watches. She does not look away.
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE - DAY
The second day. Ka'thar leads a scouting party. Five volunteers. All terrified. All determined. They move through the jungle slowly, silently, as if the trees themselves might wake and devour them. They find water. A stream, clean and cold, running between ancient stones covered in Engineer glyphs. Ka'thar kneels. He does not drink. He examines the glyphs. Movement. In the trees. Fast. Silent. Ka'thar spins. Blade raised. Nothing. The jungle is still. But something was there. Something is always there.
EXT. ARU'NDI - RIDGELINE - NIGHT
The second night. Kai'sa sits with the children. There are thirty-seven of them, ranging from infants to adolescents. They are silent. They have learned silence. She tells them stories. Not of Yautja Prime—that world is ash. Stories of survivors, of heroes, of those who refused to die. Her daughter's carving rests in her lap. She does not show it to them. She does not explain it. It is simply there, a weight, a memory, a wound. A young girl—ORIN, eight years old—touches the carving. She asks about it. Kai'sa does not answer. She cannot. Orin does not ask again.
EXT. ARU'NDI - RIDGELINE - DAWN
The third day. A scream. Not from the jungle—from the camp. A child has wandered to the edge. A creature—small, fast, with a tail and too many teeth—has taken her. The mother screams. The camp erupts. Ka'thar reaches the edge. Too late. The child is gone. The jungle has swallowed her. Ka'thar turns to the survivors. His face is stone. No one leaves the camp alone. No child goes near the edge. We post watches day and night. We are not safe here. We will never be safe here. But we can be less vulnerable. And we can learn to fight back.
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - THREE MONTHS LATER
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - DAY
The camp has become a settlement. Walls of sharpened wood. Watchtowers of salvaged ship debris. A central fire that never dies. Ka'thar trains the able-bodied. Not soldiers—there are no soldiers left. Survivors. He teaches them to hunt, to kill, to survive. He has changed. His face is scarred, his mandible gone, his eyes carrying the weight of everything he has lost. But he moves with purpose now. He knows what he is. Kai'sa works at the edge of the settlement. She has been studying the glyphs, recording them in the Akri-Ha, trying to understand the woman who made this world. She has learned Ishara's name. She has learned Ishara's crime. She has learned that the creatures in the jungle are Ishara's children. She has not told Ka'thar. Not yet.
KA'THAR
(approaching)
You've been out here all day.
KAI'SA
The glyphs... they tell a story. A mother who made something beautiful. And then abandoned it. The creatures—they are not monsters. They are orphans. Like us.
KA'THAR
They killed our people.
KAI'SA
We invaded their home. We crashed here. We had no choice. Neither did they. They were made here. They have nowhere else to go.
KA'THAR
What are you saying?
KAI'SA
I am saying that perhaps we do not have to be enemies. They killed a child. And we have killed dozens of them. Hunting parties. Patrols. Even when they do not attack, we attack. We are becoming what we hate.
KA'THAR
We are surviving.
KAI'SA
Is there a difference?
He does not answer.
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE - DAY
Ka'thar hunts alone. He has learned the jungle's rhythms, its dangers, its gifts. He moves silently, patiently, like the creatures he stalks. Today he stalks a Drone. He has been tracking it for hours. It does not know he is here. It moves through the undergrowth, hunting its own prey, unaware of the hunter behind it. Ka'thar raises his blade. This is the moment. One kill. One less enemy. He hesitates. The Drone turns. It sees him. It does not attack. It simply watches. Ka'thar watches back. For a long moment, hunter and hunted stand frozen, neither moving, neither attacking, neither understanding what is happening. Then the Drone turns and disappears into the jungle. Ka'thar lowers his blade. He does not know why he did not kill. He does not know why the creature did not attack. He only knows that something has changed.
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - NIGHT
Ka'thar sits at the fire. His blade rests beside him. Unbloodied. Kai'sa sits beside him. She asks why he did not kill. He tries to explain—the look in the creature's eyes, the waiting, the recognition. He felt like he was looking at himself. A survivor. An orphan. Someone who lost everything and doesn't know why. Kai'sa understands. Perhaps you were. They sit in silence, watching the fire, watching the darkness, watching the future they cannot yet see.
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - ONE YEAR LATER
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - DAY
The settlement has grown. Walls of stone now, not wood. Watchtowers with alert systems. Gardens that produce food from native plants, carefully tested, carefully cultivated. The population has stabilized. Two hundred twenty survivors. Children born on Aru'ndi—the first Yautja who will never see their homeworld. Ka'thar has become something new. Not a soldier. Not a survivor. A hunter. A protector. A leader. He wears the first bio-mask—crude, forged from ship debris and the hide of a creature he killed in self-defense. It covers his missing mandible, filters the air, amplifies his vision. The others have begun to wear similar masks. Not for honor—for survival. But the ritual is forming. The identity is taking shape. Kai'sa watches from the edge of the settlement. The Akri-Ha hangs at her chest, now encased in woven fiber and resin. It contains everything: the history of Yautja Prime, the glyphs of Aru'ndi, Ishara's recording, the names of the dead. She has not visited the hive in a year. She has not dared. But she has seen the creatures at the edge of the jungle, watching, waiting, never attacking. They are waiting for something. She does not know what.
INT. ISHARA'S LABORATORY - DAY
Kai'sa returns alone. She descends through the ruins, past the glyphs, past the containment chambers, past the echoes of a mother's voice. The laboratory is unchanged. The console still glows. Ishara's recording still waits. Kai'sa touches the console. Ishara's voice fills the chamber—the story of creation, of love, of abandonment, of hope. Kai'sa weeps. She did not know she could still weep.
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE - CONTINUOUS
Kai'sa walks into the jungle. She does not know where she is going. She does not know what she is looking for. She only knows that Ishara's voice is still here, still echoing, still calling her children home. The Drone finds her first. It emerges from the shadows, silent, patient, watching. Its inner mouth extends, retracts, extends again. Kai'sa does not run. Does not scream. Does not attack. She speaks to it of Ishara, of love, of the promise she made. The Drone does not understand her words. But it understands her presence. It extends its inner mouth—not to attack, not to feed. To breathe. Kai'sa reaches out. Her hand touches its carapace. The Drone does not move. Ten million years of isolation. Ten million years of waiting. Ten million years of hunger for a mother who would never return. And now: touch. Warmth. Presence. The Drone does not understand what it feels. It does not understand that it is feeling at all. But it does not want the female to leave.
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - SUNSET
Kai'sa returns to the settlement. The Drone watches from the edge of the jungle. It does not follow. It does not attack. It simply watches. Ka'thar stands at the gate. His mask hides his expression, but his posture is rigid. He asks why she went. She tells him of Ishara, of the Drone, of the touch, of the hope. He is silent. She walks past him into the settlement. Ka'thar stands at the gate, watching the jungle, watching the shadow that watches him back. He does not know what to think.
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - TEN YEARS LATER
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - DAY
The settlement is a city now. Stone walls, watchtowers, gardens, homes. A thousand Yautja live within its boundaries—descendants of the original refugees, born on this world, knowing no other. Ka'thar is old. His body is broken from a hundred hunts, a hundred battles, a hundred sacrifices. But his eyes are still sharp, still watchful, still waiting for an enemy that no longer comes. The war with the hive ended years ago. Not through peace—through exhaustion. Both sides simply stopped attacking. Both sides retreated to their territories. Both sides watched and waited. Kai'sa still visits the Drone. It waits for her at the edge of the jungle every year. It does not attack. It does not retreat. It simply waits. She has told no one what passes between them. She does not have words for it.
INT. KAI'SA'S QUARTERS - NIGHT
Kai'sa sits alone. The Akri-Ha rests in her lap. Her daughter's carving rests beside it. She has not spoken of her daughter in fifty years. She has not spoken of Yautja Prime in fifty years. She has not spoken of anything except the present, the colony, the slow work of survival. But she remembers. She always remembers. A knock. Ka'thar enters. He moves slowly now, favoring one leg, his breath labored. They speak of the young ones who want to leave, to return to the stars, to spread across the galaxy. They ask Kai'sa to go with them. She refuses. She cannot leave. Because of the promise. The Drone. The creature that waits for her. Ka'thar says he will stay with her. She tells him he does not have to. He knows. But he chooses to.
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE EDGE - DAY
Kai'sa walks to the edge of the jungle. The Drone waits. It is ancient now. Its carapace is cracked, its movements slow, its inner mouth trembling with age. But it still comes. It still waits. Kai'sa touches its carapace. She speaks of her age, of her coming death, of the others who will carry her memory. The Drone extends its inner mouth. A breath. A sigh. A farewell. Kai'sa steps back. Goodbye, child of Ishara. She turns and walks away. The Drone watches her go. It does not follow. It does not need to. It has her memory now. It will carry it into the dark.
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - TWENTY YEARS LATER
INT. KAI'SA'S QUARTERS - DAY
Kai'sa dies as she lived: at peace, surrounded by memory. Ka'thar holds her hand. His face is stone, but his eyes are wet. She asks if she did enough, if she remembered everyone, if she kept her promise. He tells her yes. Every year. Until you could not. She almost smiles. The Akri-Ha... it contains everything. Our history. Our names. Ishara's voice. The creature's story. Do not let them forget. Do not let them become what we were. I will try. That is all I ask. Her eyes close. I am tired. Then rest. Will you be here when I wake? He does not answer. He cannot. Her hand goes still. Ka'thar does not move. He does not speak. He does not weep. He simply... remains. For a hundred years, she was the memory of their people. She carried the names of the dead, the history of the lost, the hope of the survivors. Now she is silent. And he is alone.
EXT. ARU'NDI - JUNGLE EDGE - SUNSET
Ka'thar walks to the edge of the jungle. He carries the Akri-Ha. He does not know why he has come. The Drone waits. It is ancient beyond measure. Its carapace is shattered, its movements barely perceptible. But it still waits. It will always wait. Ka'thar stops at the edge. He does not approach. He does not speak. The Drone looks at him. It remembers. The hunter with the scarred face. The one who raised a blade and lowered it. The one who did not kill. Ka'thar holds up the Akri-Ha. She is in here now. Her voice. Her memory. Her love. She asked me to tell you that you are not forgotten. The Drone extends its inner mouth. One last breath. Ka'thar nods. He turns and walks away. The Drone watches him go. It does not follow. It does not need to. It has her memory now. It will carry it into the dark.
TITLE CARD: ARU'NDI - ONE HUNDRED YEARS LATER
EXT. ARU'NDI - COLONY - DAY
The colony is empty. Not destroyed—abandoned. The Yautja left Aru'ndi decades ago, spreading across the galaxy, carrying Kai'sa's memory and Ka'thar's hunting code and the Akri-Ha's sacred burden. The jungle has reclaimed the settlement. Walls are rubble. Watchtowers are nests. Gardens are wilderness. But the ruins remain. Engineer glyphs pulse with ancient light. Containment chambers wait for children who will never return. And at the edge of the jungle, a single figure stands. It is TA'KAI, a young Predator, descendant of Kai'sa, keeper of the Akri-Ha. He has returned to the place of his ancestors to pay homage. He kneels at the edge where Kai'sa once met the Drone.
TA'KAI
(quiet)
I do not know if you can hear me. I do not know if you remember. But I carry her voice. I carry her promise. I carry her hope. You are not forgotten. You will never be forgotten.
He stands. He looks at the jungle one last time. Somewhere, deep within, the hive stirs. The descendants of the Drone still wait. They will always wait. Ta'Kai turns and walks away. He carries the Akri-Ha. He carries the memory of a world that no longer exists. He carries the hope that one day, the hunters and the hunted will find peace. But not today. Today, the hunt continues.
TITLE CARD: THE HUNTERS SPREAD ACROSS THE GALAXY
TITLE CARD: THE HIVE ENDURES ON ARU'NDI
TITLE CARD: THE MEMORY OF KAI'SA TRAVELS WITH THEM ALL
TITLE CARD: FILM 4 - AVP: EPOCH
FADE OUT.
END OF FILM 3: PREDATOR: ORIGIN
Film 04 — AVP: Epoch

AVP: EPOCH

FILM FOUR OF THE ORIGIN SAGA

A SCREENPLAY BY IMAD J COSTANTINI

INTRODUCTION

Logline: After millennia of hunting Xenomorphs across the galaxy, a Predator warrior discovers the truth about his ancestors—and about the strange, violent species called humanity.

Timeframe: Ten thousand years after the fall of Yautja Prime. Present day.

Protagonist: TA'KAI — descendant of Kai'sa, keeper of the Akri-Ha, the first Predator to learn the truth.

Worlds: Yautja Prime (Age of the Hunt) · Outpost Axiom · Aru'ndi · Earth

SYNOPSIS

Ten thousand years have passed since Kai'sa walked among the living. The Yautja have become Predators—a warrior civilization spread across the galaxy, bound by ritual, honor, and the sacred hunt. TA'KAI, a young Predator and direct descendant of Kai'sa, carries the Akri-Ha embedded in his mask. He does not fully understand its power. He only knows it is sacred.

Sent on his coming-of-age hunt to a Xenomorph-infested outpost, Ta'Kai discovers something unexpected: an ancient Engineer archive hidden beneath the facility. There, Ishara's hologram reveals the truth: the Engineers created the Xenomorphs, the Purists attacked Yautja Prime, and the Remorseful fled to Earth—where they became humanity.

Ta'Kai learns that his people have been hunting their own cousins for ten thousand years. He returns to Yautja Prime with the truth, but the Elders reject his revelation. Exiled, Ta'Kai sets course for Earth with his clan-sister SERA, determined to watch, to learn, and to wait for the day when humans are ready to learn the truth.

In a final act of defiance, Ta'Kai spares a Xenomorph queen—proving that Kai'sa's legacy of mercy still endures. The stage is set for Phase Two: The Human Era.

FADE IN:
TITLE CARD: TEN THOUSAND YEARS AFTER THE FALL OF YAUTJA PRIME
TITLE CARD: THE PREDATORS HAVE SPREAD ACROSS THE GALAXY
TITLE CARD: THE HUNT HAS BECOME RITUAL
TITLE CARD: THE MEMORY HAS BECOME LEGEND
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - CLAN TERRITORY - DAY
Not the Yautja Prime we remember. This world is not the Golden Age—it is the Age of the Hunt. Spires still rise, but they are functional now, not beautiful. Armor hangs on walls where robes once hung. The faces beneath the masks are scarred, hardened, ancient. This is a warrior civilization. It has been ten thousand years since the Fire from Heaven. The Yautja have not forgotten—but they have transformed.
TA'KAI stands at the edge of the training grounds. He is young, strong, skilled. His mask is ceremonial—not yet earned in true hunt. But his eyes are different from the others. Softer. Questioning. He carries the AKRI-HA embedded in his mask. It has been passed down through a hundred generations, from Kai'sa's hand to his. He does not fully understand its power. He only knows it is sacred.
ELDER VOK
(approaching)
You train well, Ta'Kai.
TA'KAI
I train to hunt, Elder.
ELDER VOK
You train to prove yourself. There is a difference. The hunt is not about killing. It is about becoming worthy of the kill. If you do not understand that, you are simply a murderer. Your ancestor Kai'sa understood. She carried the memory of our people when we had nothing else. She taught us that the hunt is sacred—not because we take life, but because we honor the life we take.
TA'KAI
I have read her words. In the Akri-Ha.
ELDER VOK
Then you know more than most. But knowing and understanding are different things. Your coming-of-age hunt approaches. You will be sent to a world where Xenomorphs have overrun a Predator outpost. You will kill them. You will bring back trophies. You will prove yourself. Try to feel something when you do.
He walks away. Ta'Kai watches him go. His hand touches his mask—touches the Akri-Ha.
TA'KAI
(whisper)
What did you feel, ancestor? When you hunted? When you killed? When you touched the creature and did not strike?
The Akri-Ha does not answer. It never answers. It only remembers.
INT. TA'KAI'S QUARTERS - NIGHT
Ta'Kai sits alone. The Akri-Ha rests in his hands—a crystal of light and memory, pulsing softly with the weight of ten thousand years. He activates it. Kai'sa's voice fills the room.
KAI'SA (V.O.)
(recording)
I am Kai'sa, memory weaver of the Yautja people. Our world is dead. Our civilization is ash. We do not know the name of our enemy, or why they chose us for extinction. We only know that we are the survivors. We are fleeing through time. We do not know where we will emerge. We do not know if we will survive. But we carry you with us—every name, every face, every moment of peace we were granted before the fire fell. You existed. You mattered. You were Yautja.
Silence. Ta'Kai closes his eyes. He has heard this recording a thousand times. It never loses its power. A knock. Ta'Kai hides the Akri-Ha. SERA enters. She is his age, his clan-sister, his only friend. She wears no mask—she has not yet earned hers. They speak of the hunt, of fear, of the Akri-Ha. She asks to see it. He hesitates. Then he removes his mask and hands it to her. Sera touches the crystal. It pulses under her fingers.
SERA
It's warm. It's alive. In a way. It contains the voices of everyone who came before. Kai'sa. Ka'thar. All of them.
TA'KAI
What do they say?
SERA
They say we were not always hunters. They say we were peaceful once. Philosophers. Artists. Memory weavers.
TA'KAI
That was before the Fire.
SERA
The Fire made us who we are.
TA'KAI
Did it? Or did it just... break us? And we rebuilt ourselves into something harder?
SERA
You think too much. That's why you're afraid.
TA'KAI
Maybe.
She hands the mask back.
SERA
Come back from your hunt. Then you can think all you want.
She leaves. Ta'Kai stares at the Akri-Ha. Kai'sa's voice echoes in his memory.
KAI'SA (V.O.)
One day, we will return to the stars. And when we meet other species... we will test them. Not to destroy. To see if they are worthy of the choice we never had.
TA'KAI
(to himself)
What choice, ancestor? What choice did you never have?
TITLE CARD: THE HUNTING GROUNDS - OUTPOST AXIOM - SECTOR 7
EXT. SPACE - OUTPOST AXIOM - DAY
A Predator outpost on a barren moon. A research station, a hunting lodge, a fortress—all in one. But now it is silent. Dark. Dead. Ta'Kai's ship approaches. He is alone. That is the tradition.
INT. TA'KAI'S SHIP - CONTINUOUS
Ta'Kai studies the schematics. The outpost had fifty Yautja. Now it has none. The last transmission: Xenomorph outbreak. Hive established. All hands lost. His mission: Enter the outpost. Kill the Xenomorphs. Retrieve any technology. Burn the rest. Standard coming-of-age hunt. A hundred young Predators have done this before him. A hundred will do it after. He should feel nothing. This is routine. But he feels something. The Akri-Ha pulses against his temple.
TA'KAI
(quiet)
What are you trying to tell me?
No answer. There is never an answer.
EXT. OUTPOST AXIOM - LANDING ZONE - CONTINUOUS
Ta'Kai's ship lands in silence. The outpost looms before him—dark, cold, waiting. He steps onto the surface. His mask activates. Readouts flood his vision. Heat signatures: multiple. Movement patterns: erratic. Xenomorphs. Many Xenomorphs. His hand rests on his wrist blades. They are ceremonial—never blooded. Today they will be. He enters the outpost.
INT. OUTPOST AXIOM - MAIN HALL - CONTINUOUS
Darkness. Silence. The smell of death. Bodies. Yautja bodies, torn apart, stacked in corners, used as nesting material. The Xenomorphs have been busy. Ta'Kai moves slowly, carefully, every sense alert. The Akri-Ha pulses. Warm. Insistent. He ignores it. He has a mission. A sound. Behind him. He spins. Blade raised. Nothing. Just shadows. But something is wrong. The Xenomorphs should have attacked by now. They should be swarming, hunting, killing. Instead: silence. Waiting. They know he is here. They are choosing not to attack. Why?
INT. OUTPOST AXIOM - RESEARCH LEVEL - CONTINUOUS
Ta'Kai descends. The lower levels are worse. More bodies. More nests. More eggs. He steps carefully around the eggs. They pulse with inner life, waiting for hosts, waiting to birth. His training says: destroy them. His wrist blades say: kill them all. But the Akri-Ha pulses. Warmer now. Almost hot. He stops before a wall of glyphs. Not Yautja glyphs. Older. Much older. Engineer glyphs.
TA'KAI
(whisper)
What is this place?
A sound. Not a Xenomorph. Something else. Mechanical. Ancient. The wall opens.
INT. OUTPOST AXIOM - ENGINEER ARCHIVE - CONTINUOUS
A hidden chamber. Sealed for millions of years. Engineer technology pulses with ancient light. Consoles glow. Holographic displays flicker to life. Ta'Kai steps inside. His mask translates the glyphs. "ARCHIVE OF ISHARA" "ARCHITECT OF LIFE" "MOTHER OF MONSTERS" "KEEPER OF REMORSE" The Akri-Ha blazes. Hot enough to burn. Ta'Kai removes his mask. The crystal floats free, responding to something in the chamber, something ancient, something calling. A hologram activates. ISHARA stands before him.
ISHARA (HOLOGRAM)
If you are seeing this, you are one of the children of my children. You carry the memory of those who survived the Fire. You carry the hope that I could not. I am Ishara. I created the Xenomorphs. I loved them. I abandoned them. I have spent eternity trying to atone. The ones who attacked your world—the ones you call Engineers—they were my people. My species. My sin. They split in two. The Purists—they wanted to weaponize everything. To conquer. To perfect. The Remorseful—they wanted to lay down their tools and seek forgiveness. I led the Remorseful. We fled across the galaxy. We sought a world where we could start again. Where we could become something new. We found Earth. I released my genetic signature into its oceans. I hoped that one day, a species would arise that could do what I could not. Be kind.
The hologram fades. Silence. Ta'Kai stands frozen. The Akri-Ha floats before him, pulsing with ancient light.
TA'KAI
(whisper)
The Remorseful... became human. We have been hunting our own cousins for ten thousand years.
INT. OUTPOST AXIOM - ENGINEER ARCHIVE - CONTINUOUS
Ta'Kai sinks to his knees. The weight of the revelation crushes him. His ancestors fled genocide. They crashed on Aru'ndi. They fought Xenomorphs. They became hunters. They spread across the galaxy. And all that time, the descendants of their enemy's peaceful faction were evolving on Earth, unaware of their origin, unaware of the war, unaware that the hunters in the stars were their own kin. He learns about Vel'kor. About the attack on Yautja Prime. About the Purist Engineers who still exist, somewhere, waiting, watching. He learns that the Xenomorphs are not weapons. They are Ishara's children. Orphans. Like the Yautja. Like humanity. He learns that the war has been a tragedy of misunderstanding for ten thousand years. A sound. Behind him. He turns. A XENOMORPH QUEEN stands in the doorway. Not attacking. Not retreating. Simply watching. She is ancient. Her carapace is cracked, her crest scarred, her eyes milky with age. She has lived for millennia. She looks at Ta'Kai. She looks at the archive. She looks at the holographic image of Ishara, frozen mid-sentence. Her inner mouth extends. A breath. A question.
TA'KAI
(quiet)
You remember her.
The Queen does not respond. She cannot. But she does not attack. She does not move. Ta'Kai stands. Slowly. Carefully. He approaches her. His hand reaches out. He touches her carapace. The Queen trembles. Just once. Just slightly. Ten thousand years ago, Kai'sa touched the first Drone. Ten thousand years ago, she showed mercy. Ten thousand years ago, she proved that the hunters and the hunted could coexist. Ta'Kai is her descendant. He carries her memory. He carries her hope.
TA'KAI
I will not kill you.
The Queen watches him. Her tail moves, slowly, deliberately. She understands. Not his words. His intent. She turns. She disappears into the darkness. The hive will not attack today.
INT. TA'KAI'S SHIP - CONTINUOUS
Ta'Kai sits at the helm. The Akri-Ha rests in his lap. The archive's data fills his screens. He has a choice. He can return to Yautja Prime. He can reveal the truth. He can tell his people that they have been hunting their cousins, that the Xenomorphs are not enemies but orphans, that humanity carries the blood of Ishara. Or he can remain silent. He can let the hunt continue. He can protect his people from a truth that might destroy them. He thinks of Kai'sa. Of her voice in the Akri-Ha. Of her final words.
KAI'SA (V.O.)
One day, we will return to the stars. And when we meet other species... we will test them. Not to destroy. To see if they are worthy of the choice we never had.
TA'KAI
(to himself)
What choice, ancestor? The choice to be kind.
He sets course for Yautja Prime.
TITLE CARD: YAUTJA PRIME - THE COUNCIL OF ELDERS
INT. COUNCIL CHAMBER - DAY
The Elders gather. Ancient Predators, scarred and wise, leaders of the great clans. Ta'Kai stands before them.
ELDER VOK
You have returned from your hunt, Ta'Kai. Where are your trophies?
TA'KAI
I have none, Elder.
Murmurs among the Elders.
ELDER VOK
You killed no Xenomorphs?
TA'KAI
I killed none.
ELDER VOK
Then your hunt is a failure. You have not proven yourself.
TA'KAI
I have proven something else.
He removes his mask. The Akri-Ha glows.
TA'KAI
I have proven that we have been wrong for ten thousand years. The Xenomorphs are not our enemies. They are orphans—created by the same species that attacked our world. They have been fighting for survival, just as we have. They are not monsters. They are children.
The Elders stare.
ELDER VOK
You speak madness.
TA'KAI
I speak truth.
He activates the Akri-Ha. Ishara's hologram fills the chamber.
ISHARA (HOLOGRAM)
I am Ishara. I created the Xenomorphs. I loved them. I abandoned them.
The Elders watch in stunned silence.
TA'KAI
The Engineers—our attackers—they split into two factions. The Purists attacked us. The Remorseful fled. They went to a world called Earth. They became human. We have been hunting our own cousins for ten thousand years.
The chamber erupts. Shouts. Denials. Anger.
ELDER VOK
SILENCE. Even if what you say is true—and I do not say it is—what would you have us do? Stop hunting? Make peace with creatures that have killed millions of our people?
TA'KAI
I would have us ask questions. I would have us learn. I would have us become what Kai'sa hoped we would become.
ELDER VOK
And what is that?
TA'KAI
Worthy.
ELDER VOK
Your hunt is incomplete. You will return to the hunting grounds. You will complete your mission. You will bring back trophies.
TA'KAI
And if I refuse?
ELDER VOK
Then you are no longer Yautja.
Ta'Kai looks at the Elders. At their ancient faces, their scarred armor, their rigid codes. He looks at the Akri-Ha. At Kai'sa's memory. At the hope she carried across ten thousand years.
TA'KAI
Then I am no longer Yautja.
He turns and walks out.
EXT. YAUTJA PRIME - SPACEPORT - DAY
Ta'Kai walks toward his ship. Sera runs to catch him. She asks what he did, where he will go. He tells her about Earth, about the humans, about their cousins. She asks to come with him. He agrees. They board the ship together.
EXT. SPACE - TA'KAI'S SHIP - CONTINUOUS
The ship lifts from Yautja Prime. Behind them: the homeworld, shrinking, fading, becoming memory. Ahead: unknown space. A blue-green world. A species that does not know what it is. Sera stares at the star map. She asks how long. Months. Perhaps years. Conventional drive. Why not time-dilation? Because I want to think. I want to prepare. I want to arrive as something other than what I was. She asks what he is now. He considers the question.
TA'KAI
I don't know. Something new. Something Kai'sa hoped we could become.
SERA
And what is that?
He looks at the stars.
TA'KAI
Worthy.
TITLE CARD: SIX MONTHS LATER
INT. TA'KAI'S SHIP - OBSERVATION DECK - DAY
Earth hangs in the void. Blue. Green. White. Alive. Ta'Kai and Sera stare at it in silence.
SERA
It's beautiful.
TA'KAI
Yes.
SERA
They don't know we're coming. They don't know what they are.
TA'KAI
No.
SERA
What do we do when we get there?
TA'KAI
We watch. We learn. We wait. Kai'sa waited a lifetime for the creatures on Aru'ndi to trust her. I can wait a lifetime for these people. And if they attack? Then we defend ourselves. But we do not hunt them. We do not kill them because we can. We become better.
EXT. SPACE - APPROACHING EARTH - CONTINUOUS
The ship descends through the atmosphere. Clouds part. Oceans glitter. Continents spread beneath them. Ta'Kai activates the Akri-Ha. Kai'sa's voice fills the cabin one last time.
KAI'SA (V.O.)
One day, we will return to the stars. And when we meet other species... we will test them. Not to destroy. To see if they are worthy of the choice we never had. Be kind.
TA'KAI
(whisper)
I will try, ancestor. I will try.
EXT. EARTH - MOUNTAIN RANGE - DAY
The ship lands in silence. Hidden. Waiting. Ta'Kai steps onto the soil of Earth. He kneels. He touches the ground. This world. This soil. This is where Ishara's hope took root. This is where his cousins evolved. This is where the future will be decided. Sera stands beside him. She asks what now. Ta'Kai looks at the horizon. Somewhere, in the distance, a city breathes. Millions of humans, living their lives, unaware of the truth, unaware of the hunters in the stars, unaware that their cousins have come home.
TA'KAI
Now we wait. We watch. We learn. And when they are ready... we reveal ourselves.
SERA
Will they be ready?
He does not answer. He does not know. But he carries Kai'sa's memory. He carries Ishara's hope. He carries the Akri-Ha's truth. And he will wait. As long as it takes.
TITLE CARD: THE ORIGIN SAGA
TITLE CARD: FILM 1: ENGINEER: CIVIL WAR
TITLE CARD: FILM 2: ALIEN: ORIGIN
TITLE CARD: FILM 3: PREDATOR: ORIGIN
TITLE CARD: FILM 4: AVP: EPOCH
TITLE CARD: THE TRUTH IS BURIED
TITLE CARD: THE HUNT CONTINUES
TITLE CARD: THE RECKONING APPROACHES
POST-CREDITS SCENE
EXT. EARTH - MODERN CITY - NIGHT
Skyscrapers. Neon. Traffic. Millions of lives, unaware. A single Predator ship hangs in the upper atmosphere, invisible, watching. Inside: a young Predator—DEK, from another clan, another lineage—studies the humans below. He does not know the truth. He does not know that these are his cousins. He only knows they are worthy prey. His ship descends. The hunt begins.
TITLE CARD: PREDATOR: THE RISE OF HUMANITY
FADE OUT.
END OF FILM 4: AVP: EPOCH