[Days since the first Raid. In Republic City]
Tarrlok had been relentless. One mission wasn't enough—he carried out more over the next few nights, feeding off the intel provided to him, meticulously planning his operations.
But each time, something went wrong.
The enemy was far more skilled than anticipated, vastly so. Buildings they raided were sometimes rigged with traps. Other times, the bases were already empty, as if the Equalists were never even there. And on the worst nights, it was his men who walked into an ambush.
Though they managed to capture a handful of Equalists each time, the reality was clear—each mission had been a failure.
As his forces dwindled due to casualties, so did his reputation. The spotlight he once craved now mucked him, the news focusing on his shortcomings.
Well, that's what our older Fire Ferret read, at least.
MAKO
AGE: 18
STATUS: Reading the news
Mako flipped the newspaper to another page, skimming past the reports of Tarrlok's latest blunder.
And from across the training gym, his younger brother called out, bending earth disks above his palms. "Korra late for practice again?"
BOLIN
AGE: 16
STATUS: Training
Mako furrowed his brows, still fixated on the newspaper in front of him. His tone was clipped when he finally answered.
"Yeah. She's been at it since Zhen started coming home late from all those Task Force assignments"
His grip tightened slightly on the paper.
Something about it didn't sit right with him.
Well, that feeling didn't really last long.
A commotion erupted from the hallway just outside the gym—loud stomping, sharp yelling, and the unmistakable sound of frustration echoing off the walls.
Then—
BAM!
The metal door swung open violently, slamming against the frame with a creak that barely held.
KORRA
AGE: 17
STATUS: Angry
"I don't want to hear it!" Korra stormed inside, her fists clenched, her boots striking the floor. "Six nights Zhen! Six! After this I'm gonna go give that old man a piece of my mind!"
A large duffle bag dangled off her shoulder, swinging with each heavy step.
Trailing behind her, much slower, was a young man wrapped in bandages from head to toe.
ZHEN
AGE: 19
STATUS: Injured
"Seriously, please don't" Zhen said flatly, his tone dry as he shuffled inside. "It's not like this is the Councilman's fault"
He reached for the broken door and, with an almost extreme amount of care, eased it shut. Or at least… almost shut.
It creaked pitifully in protest.
"I swear it's not even that bad" Zhen continued, his tone nonchalant as he caught up behind Korra.
At his words, Korra came to an abrupt halt, her boots slamming against the floor with force.
THUD
She spun on her heel, storming toward him.
"Are you taking a good look at yourself?! She snapped, her frustration boiling over. "Every single night since you started these assignments, you've come back covered in bandages! Every night!"
Her voice wavered for a split second, but she pushed past it, shoving him lightly in exasperation.
"I'm tired of always having to heal you in the middle of the night, Zhen"
She turned sharply, her movements stiff. As she stomped off, she kicked the ground, sending a stack of earth disks crashing down. The sound echoed through the gym.
Without another word, she stormed into the dressing room and slammed the door behind her.
BAM!
The walls shook with the impact, leaving Zhen standing there.
Mako and Bolin, who saw the entire exchange play out, turned their attention to the dressing room door, where Korra could be heard grumbling loudly—followed by the distinct thud of something being punched.
Then, their eyes drifted back to Zhen.
"Sooo…" Bolin started, drawing out the word. "What was THAT about?"
Zhen let out a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She's been staying up late cause she's been waiting for me to get back after my missions"
Bolin narrowed his eyes slightly. "So it's a lover's spat, huh? Is it? Is it?"
His expression wavered between suspicion and concern before he leaned in close—very close—his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Please say it isn't"
"It's not" Zhen scowled, shoving Bolin's face away. "She's just cranky from lack of sleep. I keep telling her I'm fine, but she won't listen"
"Oh Zhen" Bolin sighed dramatically, slinging an arm around his shoulder and tugging him down to his height. "You just gotta let her let it out. Right, Mako?"
Mako, who had been quietly listening, barely reacted. He simply flipped to the next page of his newspaper.
"Just make sure it doesn't affect our practice" he said coolly, his tone sharp, targeted even. "Our championship match is right around the corner, and we need her focused"
Zhen glanced at him as he removed Bolin's arm, but said nothing. Instead, he turned his attention to the ticking clock on the wall.
"I gotta go. Still got some people to meet" He looked back at them. "You guys mind watching The Avatar for me? I'm worried she'll actually go make a scene at City hall"
"Yeah, sure! We got it!" Bolin agreed immediately, giving a thumbs-up.
Mako, however, didn't even look up. He just gave a small nod.
With that, Zhen hurried to leave, disappearing out the broken door.
BAM!
The dressing room door slammed open again, this time from a well-placed kick.
Korra stormed out, now fully dressed in her Fire Ferrets uniform, eyes blazing as she scanned the room.
"Where is he?!" her voice echoed through the gym.
Bolin flinched on instinct, throwing his arms up like he expected a ball of fire to come his way.
Peeking between his forearms, he gulped. "Uh—he said he was going to work?"
"Bastard!" she huffed. "He'll probably just head over to that Tarrlok guy again"
Still seething, she stomped her way to her training spot. On the way, she kicked over another stack of earth disks—just for good measure.
She needed to do something. Move. Fight, Burn this frustration out of her system.
As she cracked her knuckles, ready to let loose, Mako finally spoke up.
"What's with you and Zhen, anyway?" he had finally looked up from his paper, his eyes sharp with something just shy of hostility. "Why don't you just leave him alone? It's not like it's your business"
The words were edged, almost provoking. But there was something else under them. Something held back.
Korra turned, fists clenched, anger crackling off her like a live wire.
"I'll tell you what's wrong!" she snapped.
A blast of fire erupted from her fist, scorching the training floor and the target in front of her.
"He's clearly being taken advantage of! And he acts like he has no choice!"
She stomped down hard—cracking the floor beneath her. A sharp rumble followed as a jagged trail of stone shot forward, piercing another target straight through.
"It's frustrating!" she continued, chest rising and falling as heat filled her head. "He NEEDS help, but he refuses to let me!"
Her hand shook, heat radiating off her skin.
"He keeps telling me I'm not involved and that it's his job" she scoffed, voice thick with disbelief. "Like—Hello? I'm the Avatar! Amon just isn't his problem. It isn't even HIS problem!"
With a disgruntled grunt, she pulled a stream of water from the open jar beside her. As she pivoted on her heel, she spun the water with her motion, gathering quick momentum before cracking it forward in a sharp, fluid arc.
For a moment, the training dummy remained perfectly still.
Then—
Shhk…
A clean, diagonal slice split through its center.
A beat later, the top half slid off, crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.
Mako watched the display in silence, his brows furrowing as he finally spoke.
"...Why do you even want to hunt down Amon?" His voice was the same, but laced with something dangerously close to concern.
Bolin, carefully stacking up the fallen earth disks, nodded along. "Yeah, he's REALLY scary. I'd rather not go meet him again"
Korra opened her mouth, ready to fire back a response—something quick, something confident—
But the words never came.
"I just—"
She stopped short, staring down to the ground.
Her thoughts tangled. Why was she so determined to help hunt Amon down? Because she was the Avatar? Because he was a threat? Because it was her duty?
Even though… as much as she denied it, deep down—
She was glad.
Glad that someone else—even if it was Zhen—was stepping forward first.
And because of that, she felt pathetic.
Zhen was moving ahead of her, while she's trying to stay still.
'What's wrong with me…'
Korra clenched her fist. Then with a sharp shake of her head, she shoved the thoughts away, slamming her fist into her palm.
"Whatever" her voice came out tight, forced. "Let's get to training"
—————————————————————————————————
[Hours Later. Republic City Police Headquarters]
THUD!
A hand slammed against the meeting room table, rattling the glasses and papers scattered across its surface.
"I cannot believe it's been days, and we have not been able to catch a single Equalist executive!"
TARRLOK
AGE: 37
STATUS: Frustrated
"I've been made a fool!" he seethed, his fingers curling into a fist.
With a sharp swipe of his arm, the water from a nearby glass shot into the air, freezing mid-flight before shattering against the wall in jagged pieces.
The room fell into an uneasy silence. Officers shifted in their seats, exchanging wary glances.
Tarrlok's glare swept over them like a sword. "Who in Yangchen's name was in charge of gathering intelligence!?"
No one spoke. Suffocating from the thick tension. Then—
A single officer hesitantly raised their hand.
"...It was a third party broker… Sir" they answered, voice wavering.
"I want whoever that bastard is arrested!" His fist struck the table again, hard enough to make the room jolt.
A different officer hesitated before speaking up. "But sir, we can't apprehend them without cause. The public will not let—"
"We HAVE probable cause!" Tarrlok snapped, cutting them off. "They sabotaged police operations by feeding us false intel. That's obstruction of justice!"
Then, another officer raised their hand, their presence commanding enough to shift the air in the room.
"CAPTAIN"
AGE: ???
STATUS: High-Ranking Officer
"Sir, the public already views us as incompetent because of our numerous failures." the Captain spoke evenly, folding their arms. "If we arrest a civilian who has only ever been seen aiding us, it will look like we're trying to shift the blame"
The room grew still. Even Tarrlok didn't respond immediately.
His nostrils flared. "…So what do you propose?"
"Why not involve the Avatar?" The Captain didn't hesitate, speaking as if he had been waiting for the moment to bring it up.
A murmur spread among the officers. Heads nodded. Even Tarrlok seemed to give it a thought.
"It's not like I haven't tried roping her in. Course as you can see, I failed" Tarrlok admitted, settling back into his chair. He crossed his arms, tapping a finger against his bicep. "But Zhen has been adamant about keeping the Avatar out of these operations. And we can't simply just have him removed—he's already gained considerable support from the nonbender population"
He scoffed as he continued.
"Personally, I couldn't care less, but the Council might reconsider our Task Force if that happens"
"We don't have to recruit the Avatar ourselves" the Captain continued smoothly. "We could do the same thing that happened at the gala, but on a much larger scale."
Tarrlok raised a brow, intrigued. "Oh? Do tell"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, hands folded in front of his mouth.
"We let the public provoke her more openly. Stir the flames. Just like how the press did at the Gala a week back. If we frame the situation right, she'll feel compelled to involve herself." The Captain's eyes glinted as he calculated. "And if the Avatar herself chooses to join, not even Zhen can do anything about it"
A slow satisfied grin spread across Tarrlok's face.
"Yes… I like it" he shot up from his seat. "New orders! Call the press! Spread word to the public! We're holding a conference in front of City hall this afternoon"
Tarrlok smiles. "Yes, I like it. New order! Call the Press, tell them we're having a press conference this afternoon"
The officers immediately straightened, offering quick salutes. "Yes, Sir!"
Just as they turned to leave, Tarrlok raised a hand, halting them mid-step.
"One more thing" his gaze flicked to the Captain as a paper slid in their hands. "Call the people on this list to… prepare… a set of questions"
The Captain met his stare, understanding the command. A curt nod. "Consider it done"
Clenching the piece of paper in his hand, he exited the room behind the other officers, leaving Tarrlok to revel in his latest scheme.
—————————————————————————————
[Afternoon, Dragon Flats Borough]
"Well, that's that. What do you think I should do?"
After practice, Bolin found himself back in the familiar alleyways of Dragon Flats Borough, a place he has started gravitating toward since he first visited when something weighed on his mind. Training had done little to clear his thoughts, and now he needed advice.
SERA
AGE: 16
STATUS: The Mother
At the weathered basin filled with soapy water, Sera worked with effortless rhythm, scrubbing clothes in steady, deliberate strokes. The frayed sleeves of her tunic clung to her arms, soaked past the elbows, but the chill didn't seem to bother her.
"I'm not so sure what you want me to say" she wrung out a shirt, tossing it into a growing pile without sparing him a glance.
Bolin heaved a dramatic sigh, struggling to wrangle a shirt on his own. "I don't know. Some advice? A 'Bolin, you're overthinking it?' Anything?"
Ever since their first meeting, he had made a habit of stopping by the orphanage whenever he could—whether to help out, play with the kids, or just talk. Future Industries' sponsorship had only made it easier, allowing him to use part of his allowance to bring supplies: groceries, clothes, even toys.
"Play with us~!"
Not that toys were always necessary.
AKAARI
AGE: 6
STATUS: Wants to Play
Akaari had little interest in the dolls and wooden puzzles Bolin had brought for the others. Instead, she had claimed her favorite prize—him. Perched on his shoulder, tiny fingers tangled in his hair as she yanked at it like reins.
Bolin winced. "Ouch—! Okay, okay, my hair is not a platypus-bear!"
Sera finally glanced up, the corner of her lips twitching as she stifled a laugh. With a smooth, gentle motion, she scooped Akaari off his shoulders, settling the little girl against her hip as the child gave a mild pout.
"So, let me get this straight" she said, tapping her chin in thought.. "You've got your eyes on a girl, but you're getting a weird feeling that there's something going on between her, your brother, and some guy?"
"Yes!" Bolin groaned, throwing his hands up—only to splatter water everywhere. "I honestly have no clue what to do to get her to notice me"
Sera considered his words, shifting Akaari to one arm. "But didn't you say your brother's seeing someone?"
Rubbing the back of his neck, Bolin shifted awkwardly. "Well, yeah… But there's just this tension between them. I don't know. It makes me uncomfortable"
Both Akaari and Sera tilted their heads in perfect unison, the confusion practically radiating off them. If Bolin squinted, he could almost see little question marks floating above.
Lowering Akaari to the ground, Sera's seat scraped against the floor as she scooched closer beside him.
"Well, I'm not exactly an expert on romance" she pointed out, though there wasn't a hint of embarrassment in her tone. "But I think you should just shoot your shot and be done with it"
"I don't know…" The words Bolin spoke barely carried any weight, more of a murmur than an actual response.
The reflection staring back in the soapy but clear water mirrored the uncertainty pressing against his chest. Mint-green ripples swallowed the image as his hands skimmed underwater, the chill numbing more than just his skin.
Unlike the clear emotion on his face, his thoughts tangled in knots, refusing to form anything solid. Nothing. Just static.
"But like… I really enjoy spending time with her as well" the water swirled with the movement of his hand, patterns of bubbles fading as quickly as they appeared. "What if… things change cause I wanted something different…?"
Silence settled in Bolin's ears for a moment, stretching just long enough for thoughts to spiral—until cold suddenly slapped against his face.
SPLASH!
Water dripped from his chin, shock snapping him out of his daze. Akaari grinned, cupping another handful, already preparing for another wave.
"Enough mopey!" Her tiny hands struck again.
"Why you—" A quick swipe barely cleared his face, but revenge doesn't always go smoothly.
The next splash sailed toward the young girl—only to miss entirely.
The sound of dripping water filled the space. Akaari blinked. Bolin blinked. Both pairs of eyes slowly, cautiously, shifted to the now-soaked Sera.
Soap suds slid from her face, tracing down her cheek as her expression remained blank.
Akaari inched away. Bolin swallowed.
SPLASH!
Both got hit.
"Oh, you guys are on!" A bucket appeared in Sera's hands like a weapon.
AHHH!
Bolin scrambled. Akaari shrieked. Feet slipped against the wet floor, making every attempt to distance themselves useless.
Water flew. Hands cupped, buckets titled, laughter erupted.
The commotion did not go unnoticed.
Little feet pitter-patter from inside, wide eyes peeking out before the first voice rang loud and clear:
"Mother needs backup!"
"No! Help Brother Bolin!"
Newly bought toys hit the floor, quickly abandoned in favor of something far better.
"Grab the buckets!"
"Save Akaari!"
"More water there!"
Splashes rained from all directions, each burst of water met with laughter that filled the small courtyard, a joyful symphony of shrieks and giggles. The chill clung to their skin, but warmth bloomed in the chaos.
Bolin's worries dissolved, swept away with the soapy water swirling at his feet.
Well, after about an hour of splashing, shrieking, and laughing until their sides hurt, exhaustion finally won.
The kids went to dry off inside the small house, changing to dryer clothes. One by one, the kids collapsed onto the mattress laid out in the middle of the living room, limbs tangled as they drifted off, their hair still damp from their water fight.
Outside, the afternoon breeze was crisp. Sera sat on the worn wooden steps, a fresh change of clothes replacing her soaked ones. Steam curled from the chipped mug in her hands as she sipped her tea in quiet contentment, listening to the quiet news of a static radio.
Bolin stepped out a moment later, tugging at the too-tight shirt he had borrowed. It clung uncomfortably to his large frame, making him shift as he took the seat beside her.
"Tired?"
A slow, relieved sigh left her lips. "Exhausted…"
They shared a quiet chuckle, the kind that lingered in the stillness of the moment.
"But it's worth it" she murmured, running her finger along the rim of her mug. "Seeing them happy like that… I just wish I could do more for them with what I can do"
"I'm sure they know you're doing your best" Bolin reassured.
She appreciated the sentiment, but the weight of responsibility never fully lifted. "Still… thanks. You didn't have to help, but you did. It's kind of embarrassing, really. I don't even know how to repay you"
"Nonsense!"
Bolin shot to his feet, downed his tea in one dramatic gulp, and slammed the empty cup onto the table. The burp that followed echoed loudly as birds flew away.
Sera raised a brow, smirking amusingly. "Very inspiring"
"I'm serious!" he stretched his arms toward the bright sky before letting them drop. His voice softened slightly. "I told you, didn't I? Back then, it was just me and my brother, we struggled. Like a lot. But we got through it because people helped us. Even now, we still have someone looking out for us"
He tilted his head back, staring at the vast evening sky. For a second, it looked like he was about to yell something—then he didn't. Instead, he turned to Sera with a bright, earnest smile.
"It's only right to do the same for others who need it"
For reasons she couldn't quite grasp, that moment burned itself into her mind. The way the golden glow of the lanterns caught his face, the warmth of his voice, the way his green eyes shimmered—it all settled deep in her chest, a feeling unfamiliar yet strangely… pleasant.
Her dark blue eyes glistened as she watched him, but just as quickly, she looked away, staring into the murky tea in her cup. Embarrassment? No. Something else. Something she couldn't grasp.
"I don't know if I deserve this" she muttered, watching the ripples in her drink distort her reflection. "But… I appreciate it"
Bolin huffed, satisfied, convinced he had cheered her up.
"For such a great guy, I wonder which girl's out of their mind to ignore you" she mused, breaking the silence before it could settle.
The words came out lighthearted, teasing—but her fingers curled a little too tightly around her mug, the warmth of the ceramic doing little to ease the unfamiliar tightness in her chest.
Bolin perked up instantly. "Oh you wouldn't believe it, its—"
—The Avatar has raided Councilman Tarrlok's Press Conference!
The radio's sudden announcement crashed into his words, the urgency in the broadcaster's voice snapping the moment in half. The conversation, the warmth—it all evaporated in an instant.
Bolin turned sharply to the radio.
This is a message for Amon!
Korra's voice crackled through the radio, distorted yet unmistakable.
Sera stole a glance at Bolin.
His entire face lit up—not just with interest, something almost electric. The warm smile he'd given her just moments ago stretched into something brighter, his eyes sparking like gems. His brows relaxed, his ears seemed to perk at the sound of her voice.
The tight rope in Sera's chest twisted.
She looked away.
—————————————————————————————
[Moments Ago, City Hall]
Tarrlok's last-minute announcement should have drawn only a handful of reporters, given the short notice. But that was an understatement.
The plaza was packed.
Not just with journalists, but civilians too—gathering in waves, voices rising, emotions running as high as the temperature.
"Is there still no sight of Amon?!"
"How much longer do we have to live in fear of the Equalists?!"
Questions hurled toward the podium, eager for a story, desperate for an answer.
Normally, this was Tarrlok's battlefield—a stage where he could weave words like silk and wrap the public around his finger.
But today, the man they expected—the charming, cunning councilman—was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, standing under the press' scrutiny, wrapped in bandages from head to toe, was a young man with long dark hair.
Zhen.
And all he could think about at the moment was. 'Why am I the one doing this?'
He was supposed to be on leave due to his injuries, only stopping by the Task Force meeting to submit a report. Yet, before he knew it, Tarrlok's men had grabbed him, shoved him into their vehicle, and hauled him here without so much as an explanation.
Zhen cast a glance over his shoulder. The Task Force officers stood at stiff attention, a wall of uniformed figures, while Tarrlok loomed just behind him, composed as ever. The moment their eyes met, the councilman offered a smile—which was irritating.
Zhen exhaled through his nose. 'Let's just get this over with…'
He tapped the mic.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound echoed across the plaza, bouncing off stone and steel. One by one, the murmurs died down, the restless crowd falling into silence until even birds seemed to hold their breath.
"So, this is working right?" In his confusion, Zhen tapped it one last time before frowning at the device.
It was working. Loud and clear.
The weight of hundreds of eyes pressed on him, expectant and skeptical.
'What the hell do you even want me to say here?' He had no idea.
Words weren't coming. His expression stayed blank, but his mind was grasping at anything, trying to string together something that resembled speech.
After a beat, he exhaled.
"Firstly" his voice carried, giving a tone as blank as his face. "I'd like to apologize for our incompetence. Especially after what I said a week prior to the press"
A ripple went through the crowd—glances exchanged, murmurs rising like a low tide, cameras clicking in rapid succession. But the silence was still so suffocating.
Then, a voice cut through the tension, adding more to the weight.
"You think an apology is going to solve this problem?"
And just like that, the dam burst.
"So this is the extent of your arrogance!?"
"How shameless!"
Angry shouts swelled around him, overlapping like crashing waves. Small rocks and crumpled bits of paper were hurled toward the podium—nothing too serious, but it was enough to send a message. The people were furious, and they wanted someone to blame.
Zhen didn't flinch. His expression remained deadpan, unaffected as the insults pelted him just like the debris.
To an extent, he had expected this.
Then came the call that twisted the knife deeper.
"Bring us the Avatar!"
"She'll do a much better job than you!"
Those actually got him to respond.
"Unfortunately" Zhen said, voice flat. "The Avatar is undergoing training. She won't be handling this one"
"And who are you to decide that?!"
The declaration rang out coming from the back of the crowd.
The heads turned, the sea of bodies stepping aside in waves as murmurs rippled through the square. The anger that fueled tem only moments ago wavered, replaced by confusion and growing anticipation.
Then came the sound—heavy, rhythmic steps pounding against the pavement.
Zhen narrowed his eyes. A blur of white cut through the crowd like a rolling storm cloud. But it wasn't just the ball of fur he recognized—it was the streak of faded blue riding a top of it.
'You've got to be kidding me'
With a powerful leap, Naga bounded up the staircase, her weight shaking the stone as she landed. And, of course, she wasn't alone.
"Avatar?" Zhen's voice edged with disbelief as the young Avatar swung down from the saddle.
She barely spared him a glance.
"I said I have this—"
"Move. Zhen"
She didn't give him a chance to argue. A firm shove to his shoulder, and he was forced to step back, her presence immediately commanding space.
Zhen didn't miss the subtle irritation in her eyes. She was pissed, and he knew exactly why.
With a quiet sigh, he backed off, hands slipping into his pockets.
He let her take the stage.
The moment Korra stepped forward, the press erupted.
"Avatar! Will you be assisting the Task Force this time around?"
"Why choose now to make an appearance?"
"Will you be directly aiding Tarrlok in his hunt for Equalists?"
"What do you say to claims that Tarrlok and his men have failed to locate Amon?"
The barrage of questions was met with a sharp crack—Korra's hand slamming onto the podium, making the microphone screech.
"I'll tell you why!" Her voice cut through the noise, fierce. But Zhen noticed her grip on the wood was a bit too tight as it cracked under her grasp. "Because Amon is hiding in the shadows like a coward!"
She seized the microphone, taking a steadying breath before raising her voice for the whole city to hear.
"This is a message for Amon!" She let the words hang in the air, commanding silence before she continued. "I challenge you to a duel!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd, like a pebble hitting still waters.
"No Task Force. No Chi-Blockers. Just the two of us" her sharp gaze swept over the stunned onlookers. "Tonight at midnight. Avatar Aang Memorial Island. Let's cut to the chase and settle this—IF you're man enough to face me"
The declaration thundered through the square. Cameras flashed, reporters scrambled, civilians whispered.
Korra didn't care for a response. She dropped the mic—literally—and turned away, gripping Naga's fur as if ready to mount.
But she didn't.
Instead, she glanced back, her eyes locking onto Zhen with barely restrained irritation.
"Get up here before you piss me off even more"
Not a request. A command.
Zhen let out a slow, tired sigh, his shoulder slouching as if the weight finally settled on him. But in the end, he didn't protest. He stepped forward.
Korra didn't wait for him to catch up. The second he moved, she swung onto Naga's back. Zhen followed, strugglingly climbing up behind her without a word.
With a powerful push of her legs, Naga leaped down the steps, landing heavily before charging through the parting crowd, who did not miss the chance for a great shot. The sea of bodies moved aside, their whispers fading behind the riders.
From the podium, Tarrlok watched them go, his expression unreadable. But his eyes, sharp and calculating, already had something in his mind.
He was already thinking. Already planning.
And he wasn't the only one with the expression, as behind him someone else was scheming.
—————————————————————————————
[Early Evening. Air Temple Island]
The night was thick with clouds, smothering the sky in darkness. Not a single star flickered through the haze, and even the moon remained hidden behind the heavy curtain above.
But despite the shrouded sky, the island held its usual quiet serenity.
At least, for a moment.
"Damn it Avatar! I told you not to get involved!"
So much for peace.
Zhen stormed after Korra, his voice slicing through the still air, but she didn't slow down. She stomped ahead, her steps heavy enough to leave faint imprints in the earth as she made her way toward the docks.
"You don't get to decide that for me!" she shot back, her frustration crackling in her voice.
"This isn't your fight yet!" he pushed, his pace quickening, closing the gap between them. "You're not ready to face someone like Amon!"
The distant roar of the sea swallowed their voices as they reached the wharf, waves crashing against the wooden pillars. Zhen caught up, reaching out—he wasn't trying to stop her, not forcefully, not harshly. His fingers barely curled around her arm, careful, almost hesitant, as if he feared she'd slip away the moment he held on too tightly.
"I'm trying to keep you safe Avatar!"
She stopped.
Her breath hitched, her shoulders trembling with something that wasn't quite anger. Her teeth clenched, her fingers curled into fists, and before she could stop herself—
Thwack!
Her fist slammed into Zhen's chest.
The impact sent him staggering, his feet slipping out from under him as he hit the ground with a grunt. He coughed, a sharp ache spreading across his ribs as he propped himself up on his elbow.
"I don't need you to keep me safe!" Korra's voice tore through the air. "Let's not forget, Amon challenged ME that night—the Avatar. Not you"
She took a step forward, looming over him.
"So if someone needs to stop getting involved, it's YOU" her fists trembled at her sides. "I don't need your help"
She turned before he could think of a response, her body rigid as he forced herself forward. Each step on the wooden dock creaked under her weight, her breath uneven.
Zhen didn't move. He just lay there, staring at the empty night sky, the stars still hidden behind thick clouds. He could get up. He could chase after her, say something—anything.
But he didn't.
Korra's feet slowed at the edge of the dock. Her chest heaved as she finally looked down at her hand, her fingers still curled tight.
It ached.
Was it right?
Her mind screamed at her to turn around. Just one glance. Just one step back. But she swallowed hard and forced herself forward, boarding the small boat.
The moment her feet touched the wooden flooring, she bent the waters beneath, pushing herself away from the dock with a sharp burst.
She didn't look back.
Not until she was too far to see him anymore.
By then, Zhen had finally sat up, eyes locked on the rippling waves where she had disappeared.
He just watched.
And when the boat was nothing more than a distant blur, swallowed by the night, he let his back hit the wood once more.
Was this fine?
—————————————————————————————
[Midnight. Avatar Aang Memorial Island]
The moment Korra arrived on the island, she wasted no time. She climbed to the highest point she could—the rooftop of the central monument—where she could be easily spotted. Where she knew Amon would see here.
And then, she waited.
At first, every faint sound put her on edge. The rustling leaves, the whispering breeze, even the distant lap of waves against the shore—each one made her heart jolt, her muscles tense.
But as the minutes dragged into hours, nothing happened.
No shadows slinking through the trees. No figures emerging from the darkness.
Nothing.
Her guard started to slip.
The tension in her shoulders eased. The jittery anticipation dulled into frustration. Her eyes wandered over the city skyline in the distance, its lights flickering like fireflies against the darkened horizon. The night was quiet, eerily so.
Then, at last, the thick clouds overhead shifted, revealing the moon in all its pale brilliance. Soft silver light bathed the small area, casting the shadows of the statue over the island.
Korra sighed, stretching her arms over her head, her back arching as she tried to shake off the stiffness from all that waiting.
Hahhh~
A yawn slipped past her lips.
Had she really been here for hours?
Her body felt it now—the creeping exhaustion, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders. What started as raw anticipation had fizzled into something else entirely.
Boredom.
Frustration.
Fatigue.
Korra exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders as she scanned her surroundings once more, searching for even the slightest sign of movement. But the island remained still, bathed in eerie moonlight.
"Guess you're a no-show, Amon" she muttered, her voice laced with mockery. She smirked to herself. "Who's scared now?"
Silence answered her.
Her smile faded.
If he wasn't coming, she wasn't waiting around all night.
With a final glance at the empty island, Korra stood up and began making her way down. As her boots met solid ground, she inhaled deeply, letting the crisp air fill her lungs. The silence was almost… soothing now.
Almost.
She stretched her arms upward overhead, rolling her shoulders in a rare moment of relaxation as she strode past the building's open, unlit entrance.
Then—
Fwip-fwip-fwip!
The air sliced apart from inside, a sharp whistling sound that barely registered before—
Snap!
Something coiled tightly around her ankles.
"What the—?"
A violent yank tore her feet from the ground.
Ah—!
Korra crashed onto her back, breath punching out of her lungs. She barely had time to gasp before she was dragged, her body forcefully skidding across the cold stone.
The world around her twisted, the silvery glow of the moon slipping further and further away—until the darkness swallowed her whole.
She felt as if she was falling, the pitch back confusing her sense of direction.
But then, the pull of the void began to tug her upward. Instinctively, she grounded her hands to the earth beneath her, using the momentum to spin her feet up, her body twisting like a tornado.
Fire roared around her legs, flames dancing like desperate fingers as they burned through the restraint bunding her. The light flared briefly as she landed on her feet, casting shadows against the walls, revealing a sea of green-glowing goggles surrounding her.
Her heart clenched.
Equalists.
The light blinked out, consumed once again by the dark as the last thing she saw was the Equalists closing in on her. Her breath quickened, panic seeping into the edges of her thoughts. Desperation clawed at her, and she forced herself to focus, to fight through the gnawing pain tightening her chest.
She swung her arm down, flames igniting, sparking around her like a flare.
But mid-swing, her arms were yanked back, her fire sputtering out before it could fully ignite a glow. Restraints bit into her wrists, pulling her arms wide, forcing her into an unnatural, exposed position. A strangled gasp tore her throat, her chest heaving with frantic breaths as she struggled, kicking up with her legs, sending flames blindly spiraling toward her captors.
The fire burned, bright and alive, and several Equalists were forced to stumble back.
But more came. A wave of bodies, too many to fight at once.
She kicked again, this time propelling herself backward, her foot meeting solid ground just as the fire from her previous attack began to sputter out. The earth beneath her cracked open, tendrils of rock shooting upwards to slam into the oncoming enemies.
She was a whirlwind of force, but with each breath, her strength waned. Her vision continued blurring in the dim light, the oppressive darkness beginning to feel like a weight on her lungs.
As the fire that had given her brief illumination flickered out and died, all that was left was the full glow of green like eyes to mark their presence. The weight of their gaze on her felt like chains.
And then—cold.
A chill that gnawed at her spine, a sharp prick against her back. Her heart lurched. Her arms lost the strength to fight, the restraints pulling them open painfully as her breath faltered.
"Damn it!" Korra gasped, pushing through the growing fog in her mind.
She had to move, had to—
But no. She can't.
Not giving her a chance to retaliate, her body went limp, and she landed on something heavy behind her. A wall? No—it was someone. She couldn't even brace herself before their hand clamped around the back of her neck, pushing her head down. It was as if the ground came up to meet her faster than she could comprehend, the impact rattling her teeth, a sharp explosion of pain flooding her skull.
'No. No, not like this…'
Her body went limp, her consciousness pulling her under, drowning her, leaving her senses dull and distant. But as the darkness crept in, every muscle in her body screamed in protest, refusing to let her go. Her limbs trembled, heavy and unresponsive, as she fought to cling to the faintest thread of awareness.
But the restraints, those damn restraints—tightened even further. The world shifted again, the edge of her vision darkening, her breath ragged and shallow.
She tried to move, to fight. Anything. But the hand gripped her ponytail and yanked her up, forcing her to kneel, her legs crumbling beneath her like wet paper.
She couldn't do it anymore.
The fight had drained from her, leaving her hollow. Her limbs felt heavy, useless, like they were no longer hers. And as the last ounce of resistance ebbed away, a harsh, blinding spotlight sliced through the darkness down toward her.
The Equalists stood at attention, their posture stiff and practiced. They formed a perfect line, waiting for something. The one behind her kept a firm grip on her hair, forcing her head to tilt upward.
Then came the sound. Footsteps.
Tap… Tap… Tap…
The echoes of the approaching figure were like a drumbeat in her ears, each step sinking deeper into the pit of her stomach.
Korra's eyes lifted, her heart hammering as she squinted into the blinding light. Her gaze fell upon a tall, imposing figure, stepping out from the shadows, a white mask gleaming under the harsh spotlight.
Him.
"AMON"
AGE: ???
STATUS: Leader of the Equalists.
"I received your invitation, young Avatar" the voice that came from behind the mask was cold, calm, and utterly certain, like a death sentence.
Korra's body was still, her breath shallow, as she forced herself to look up at him, taking in the harsh details of his mask. Amon's hand reached out, a gesture so simple, yet it made Korra hold her already shallow breath.
She glanced away, shutting her eyes tight, bracing for what was inevitable. The hand on her chin, though, was unexpected. Amon's fingers gripped her face, forcing her to look at him, holding her with the same chilling ease as he spoke again.
"Our showdown, while inevitable, is premature" his voice was so devoid of emotion it felt like a knife to the chest. "Although it would be the simplest thing for me to just take away your bending right now…"
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. The mere mention of it made Korra's eyes widen, the icy grip in her heart crawling down her spine.
She couldn't focus on him. Her vision blurred. Her eyes didn't look at Amon; they were far away, lost somewhere, anywhere, but in that moment.
She was lost in a desperate attempt to escape, to think of something, anything that could wake her up from this nightmare.
Just as the worst was about to come, a sound—distant at first—cut through the fog of her thoughts. A soft, steady clink of metal against metal.
A blade.
Korra's face flickered past Amon, her heart skipping in confusion as another figure emerged from the shadows, their outline dark as the harsh light.
The figure wore a blank, broken mask that showed one of their eyes, its edges jagged, in pieces like the fractured pieces of a soul. A tattered robe fluttered in the air as they moved, one arm resting casually on a sheathe, the other drawing a sword far too close to Amon's neck, the tip of the blade just grazing the skin of his neck.
"Don't" Faceless spoke, his tone almost… coaxing. "She'd only become a martyr"
The voice that came from him was quiet, controlled, yet it felt like it had weight.
Korra couldn't stop herself. Her eyes shifted to Faceless, and for the briefest moment, her expression softened. She was relieved, as pathetic as it might have seemed. It was like a small breath of air after being submerged in water for too long.
Amon turned his mask toward Faceless, his voice devoid of all warmth. "Hm… I know. So, I won't"
Amon's fingers released their grip on the young Avatar, and Korra, through trembling, managed to hold his gaze, defiant in the face of the gnawing unease inside her. Some fight still burned inside her, fragile as it was.
Faceless sheathed his sword with a soft hiss, his eyes never leaving Amon.
With the blade now gone, Amon seemed to lose his amusement, his cold stare locking once again with Korra's.
"Benders of every nation would only rally behind your… untimely demise" Amon's voice was as chilling as the gaze behind his mask. "But I assure you, I have a plan, and I'm saving you… for last. Then, you'll get your duel. And I will destroy you"
The weight of his words sank in, colder than any frost, heavier than any blow. Korra's eyes lost the fight, her body giving in to the oppressive despair that has threatened to swallow her whole. Her breath caught in her throat, a silent gasp escaping her lips as her resolve began to fracture.
She couldn't feel her strength anymore.
But Korra's mind still screamed. 'Fight back. You can still fight back!"
The very next moment, she felt something—sharp, metallic–prick the back of her neck.
A cold shock ran through her veins, and before she could resist further, her body went slack, every muscle, every ounce of willpower fading into nothingness. She couldn't even scream.
Her body hung limp, tethered only by the hand clutching her hair, and then, without warning, she was released.
THUD!
She dropped to the ground with a sickening thump, the world spinning wildly as her vision blurred and the sounds around her faded into muffled static.
Through the fog in her mind, she could make out the faint murmur of voices, but it was distant. A faint argument before everything slipped into darkness.
—————————————————————————————
[...]
A flicker of light—brief, faint. A person?
NAME: ???
AGE: ???
STATUS: ???
No… people. There were more than one.
NAME: ???
AGE: ???
STATUS: ???
Their lips moved, forming words—but no sound ever came out. Just silence.
NAME: ???
AGE: ???
STATUS: ???
Something about them felt… familiar, yet wrong.
NAME: ???
AGE: ???
STATUS: ???
The edges of their faces blurred, shifting between clarity and distortion, like something was struggling to surface.
A dream?
Where was this?
What was this?
—————————————————————————————
[Minutes Later]
The first thing Korra felt was the cold.
Despite the small blanket that covered her top, a sharp chill kissed her skin, sending a faint shiver down her spine. Then came the heavy, rhythmic rocking beneath her, a slow, unsteady sway that made her body lurch without her control.
The sea?
She could smell it—salt-heavy air, familiar. Muffled sounds slowly sharpened in her ears, layering over the distant hum of water lapping against the boat.
Brrrrmmm—!
A low vibration thrummed against her skull, a dull ache pressing at the edges of her mind. Her head rested on something soft, but the relentless engine buzzed through it, leaving her disoriented, her thoughts sluggish.
With effort, she pried her eyes open.
At first, everything blurred—just vague shapes and dim lights flickering across the water. But as her vision cleared, she tensed.
A figure stood at the helm. Broad shoulders. The familiar back.
Zhen.
His hands were steady on the controls as he steered.
Korra's breath caught.
Was she relieved he was here? Resentment—but for what? Guilty for how she treated him? Worry for his injuries?
It twisted inside her, uncertain. She should say something. Shouldn't she?
Before she could untangle the knot in her chest, his voice cut through the storm in her mind.
"We're almost to your home, Avatar" he didn't turn, didn't glance her way. Just kept his focus ahead, his voice even, his eyes distant.. "Just get some rest"
Korra swallowed a big lump on her throat, staring at his back.
No words came.
No. She couldn't just stay silent.
She sat up slowly, clutching the cloth draped around her shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric like it could protect her. Her body still ached, the boat rocked faintly beneath her feet, but she forced herself to take move.
"I—" her voice caught, cracked. The words she wanted to say tangled in her throat.
But at this point, even she was aware of what she truly felt.
She stood, unsteady. The boat fought against her balance, but she didn't care. Step by step, she made her way forward.
And then—she reached for him.
A trembling hand grasped the back of Zhen's shirt, gripping it like a lifeline. He tensed beneath her touch, but he didn't move.
"I'm… I'm sorry…" the words left her barely a whisper, fragile. But not out of guilt, but something breaking inside her.
Her hands shook as she clutched the blanket tighter around her, as if it could shield her from the storm raging inside. But still, she held on.
"I'm sorry" Stronger this time, her voice wavered, but her grip did not.
Zhen remained silent, his hands tightened—just barely—on the wheel, but he didn't speak, didn't turn.
"You were right…"
The admission cracked something open inside her. Her breath hitched, her vision blurred, and before she even realized—
Something dripped onto the wooden floor.
Tears.
Warm and heavy, spilling over before she could stop them. They darkened the fabric of Zhen's shirt as she clung to him, her forehead resting against his back. But still, he said nothing.
"I-I should've listened" she choked out. "I should've just listened to you…"
The weight of everything crashed over her, crushing and unbearable. Her shoulders shook, her body trembled, and yet, she clung to him.
"I—" Her voice broke again
Was it hard to admit?
No.
Then was the truth any different when left unspoken?
No.
But why did it hurt so much?
Her chest ached. Her hands ached. Her legs trembled beneath her, her fingers gripping so tightly that her own nails dug into her palm, letting it bleed out.
And finally—
"I was so afraid" she whispered, barely holding herself together. "I didn't know what to do"
Her breath shuddered, her walls crumbling.
"I've never felt like this before…"
A pause. A beat. And then—
"So… helpless"
Her voice was nothing but a breath, carried off by the cold night air.
And still, Zhen said nothing.
He let her break down.
He let her cry her heart out.
He let her hold onto him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
Why?
Because he didn't know what to say.
He had no wisdom to give, no gentle reassurances to offer. He wasn't someone who could tell her that everything would be okay. He wasn't someone deserving to offer those words.
But since Korra had taken the first step—since she had reached for him, spoken first—maybe… maybe he should at least try.
"I'm sorry, Avatar…" the words left him before he could stop them.
But his voice wasn't steady. It wavered, as if the weight of his own apology was too much to bear.
"I'm not Master Tenzin or Madam Pema, or Lady Katara" he continued, whether she was listening or not. He wasn't sure if she could even hear him over her own quiet sobs. "I can't offer you the wisdom you need… The advice you want"
He sighed, feeling her fingers still curled into his clothes, her grip firm despite her trembling. Even now, she was strong.
Of course she was.
"But…" his voice softened. "That's a step forward, isn't it? Admitting you're afraid"
Something inside him twisted, resisting the urge to turn around.
And then—
Tap…
Something else dripping onto the wooden floor.
Korra didn't notice.
Zhen bit his lip, jaw tightening as he tasted iron. The wheel creaked under his grip, his knuckles white.
"I… I'm sorry…"
A whisper. Fractured, uncertain.
Was it for her?
Or was it for himself?
End