[Morning, Air Temple Island]
The island stirred with the first touch of sunlight, its familiar calm gently folding over the bruises of the night before. After the chaos, Air Temple Island had become a sanctuary—offering space to breath, space to recover.
As dawn brushed gold over the stone paths and wind-carved halls, Lin had already departed, her figure a blur against the rising sun as she returned to headquarters.
She planned to hand in her resignation as soon as possible, and to take care of unfinished business on her own terms.
With her went Asami, Mako, and Bolin accompanied by a small squad of guards. They all decided to visit the Sato Estate, so they could gather the things they left behind: clothes, equipment, the like.
They expected an ambush or a few leftover Equalists. But the grand halls stood silent. The gates creaked open into a hollow shell. No voices. No shadows. Not even a sign anyone was ever there.
Every room had been emptied. Every corridor swept clean. Even the underground factory—once a hive of machinery and weaponry—was nothing more than steel and dust. Whatever had lived there had vanished, long before they arrived.
Back on the island, the rhythm of daily life picked up again. Tenzin had started walking around again, albeit more carefully. The healers were kept near, but he waved them off more and more.
Meanwhile, the young Avatar stood quietly on the island docks, the sea breeze tugging at her sleeves as she waited. She had already prepared the guests rooms, tidied what she could, and now all that remained was this—watching the bright horizon.
KORRA
AGE: 17
STATUS: Her Mind's Elsewhere
The distant hum of an engine broke through the hush of morning, a low, steady growl rising from the bay. A silhouette crested over the water, sunlight gleaming off its metallic hull as the ship neared the dock. With a hiss of steam and the clank of gears, the ramp extended downward, and the vessel settled into place.
The first to emerge was a tall, lean figure carrying a worn sack over his shoulder. His stride was casual, confident, boots echoing against the aged wooden planks of the dock.
MAKO
AGE: 18
STATUS: Moving In… Again
"Hey, Korra" he greeted, raising a hand in a lazy wave, his tone somewhere between tired and glad.. "Thanks for sending the Air Acolytes to help us with the move"
Before Korra could give her reply, another voice chimed in, lighter and more composed.
ASAMI SATO
AGE: 18
STATUS: Her Mind's Elsewhere
"They've been amazing" Asami added as she stepped down behind him, her eyes flicking toward the ship. "Such tireless workers"
Korra followed her gaze just in time to see two Acolytes wrestling with a towering stack of luggage, clearly struggling to maneuver it down the ramp. The pile swayed ominously with each step, and the Acolytes' faces were masks of grim struggle.
Korra blinked, surprised. "I thought you were bringing a few things?"
The stack teetered dangerously as it hit the incline, drawing a nervous gasp from one of the monks. But somehow, miraculously, the two managed to remain upright.
Mako glanced back and offered a shrug, unbothered. "Could've been worst"
"No problem though" Korra said, keeping a careful eye on the Acolytes still navigating the dock, half-expecting a suitcase or two to tumble at any moment. "Everyone wants you guys to feel welcome. Come on, I'll show you around"
She led the way toward the stone steps that wound up into the island's heart, the others trailing close behind. Though they had stepped foot here once before, it was different now. That night had been a blur–-heavy with tension, with so much revealed and still too many unanswered questions.
This morning, with the sun warming the path and the waves lapping gently at the shore, the island finally revealed its quiet grace.
A small blur of red dashed past, bounding ahead, squeaking in playful energy. Moments later, a streak of white fur trailed him—Naga panting in delight as she gave chase to the small ferret across the grass in their own little game.
As they strolled further into the island's heart, Asami felt a persistent gaze pressing into the side of her face. She turned slightly, lifting an eyebrow, only to find a small, bald child staring up at her with unsettling intensity and a wide, toothy grin that stretched a little too far.
MEELO
AGE: 5
STATUS: Hyperactive Kid 1
"You're pretty" he announced with the blunt confidence only someone his age could have. "Can I have some of your hair?"
Asami blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly.
Beside her, Mako let out a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying the moment. "Looks like I got some competition"
Before Asami could respond, a sudden burst of motion caught their attention. A blur of energy bounded into their path in front of them, arms raised like a ring master calling the start of a grand show.
"And now for the grand tour!" she proclaimed, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.
IKKI
AGE: 7
STATUS: Hyperactive Kid 2
She spun with flair, arms flying in all directions as she rattled off facts at her childlike pace.
"The flying bisons sleep in those caves down there! And that's the temple grandpa Aang built! The greenhouse is over that way—we grow our vegetables there, except when Meelo sneaks in weird mushrooms! The library's that way, and past it is the forest where all the animals like to hang out!"
Her gestures were so animated, it was hard to tell where she was actually pointing. Trees, rocks, and buildings blurred together behind her flurry of motion.
The trio stood in silent awe, struggling to keep up with the torrent of information and the whirlwind that delivered it.
Still, someone among them rose to the challenge.
BOLIN
AGE: 16
STATUS: Hyperactive Adult
"I have a couple questions" he said, stroking his chin with exaggerated seriousness. "Is this an all-vegetarian island? Is that where you train airbending? Do we have to wear Air Acolyte clothes? Do we each get our own sky bison? And final question—how many trees are on this island?"
Ikki matched his thoughtful stance with a perfect imitation, as if she were his reflection. Her reply came without pause and with all the certainty she had. "Yes. Yes. No. No. Ten thousand five hundred and fifty-two"
The positive wavelength between the two matched so well that it left even Bolin surprised and wide-eyed.
Before the silence could settle for too long, Mako cleared his throat, sliding a hand behind his neck as if trying to ease the awkwardness away. "So… where are we gonna be staying?"
The answer came not from Ikki, but from the far more smaller source.
"You're a boy. Boy's have to stay on the men's side" Meelo announced solemnly, pointing in the completely opposite direction of everyone's attention.
A quiet voice followed, calm and distant, almost too quiet to catch. "I can show you around the men's dormitory"
JINORA
AGE: 10
STATUS: Is Wondering Where Zhen Is
She stood beside Mako, seemingly unnoticed until now. Her face was unreadable, composed but distant, like her mind had wandered somewhere much deeper than the surface of this island.
Still, her sense of duty held firm, she turned and walked ahead, the quiet responsibility in her steps enough to signal the others to follow.
Mako gave Korra a parting glance before trailing after her.
Bolin, of course, chimed in with a grin as he followed. "I'm a boy"
Korra, watching them go, turned toward Meelo with a flicker of concern toward his older sister. "Meelo, why don't you go with them? Keep Jinora and the boys company?"
He squinted at her as if weighing the magnitude of the request. Then dramatically, he turned to Asami, his face lit up by the essence of her beauty.
"We shall meet again soon, beautiful woman" he declared, raising one small hand in parting.
And with that, he was gone—feet pattering across the stone as his laughter trailed behind him like a battle cry.
"Well, that's that…" Korra muttered with a shrug, turning around. "Come on, Ikki and I will take you to your room this way"
Asami followed without question, her steps soon syncing with Korra's as they made their way down a gently curving path toward the women's dormitories.
The island air was still, touched by the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional distant bison call. The silence between them wasn't strained—just spacious. Natural. But in quiet places like this, thoughts had a tendency to grow louder.
Within the dormitory, the hallways stretched out in warm, earthy tones, lit softly by the filtered light from large windows. Their footsteps echoed faintly as they walked deeper inside. Just as the quiet seemed to settle into a steady rhythm, a small voice piped up beside them.
"Asami?"
Ikki had slipped into Asami's side. She looked up with wide eyes and shining with innocent curiosity.
"Did you know Korra likes Mako?"
Asami blinked, and Korra came to a complete stop, stiff as a board. If she could've bent the air to disappear, she would have.
"...Oh, uh" Asami said carefully, caught in the middle of a conversational ambush. "No, I wasn't, uh… completely aware of that. I thought she was—"
Korra's brain screamed loud enough to shatter glass, but all she could manage was a strangled yelp. Her face had flushed somewhere between scarlet and volcanic ash.
Before things could spiral any further, she grabbed Asami's arm with a hurried, awkward laugh and pulled her gently down the hall.
They reached the far end of the corridor, where a simple sliding door waited like salvation. Korra nudged Asami inside with a touch more urgency than grace, then stepped in after her and quickly turned on her heel—just in time to intercept Ikki's attempt to follow.
"Nope" Korra muttered, throwing a pointed glare down toward Ikki before dragging the doors shut with a loud thwack right in the kid's face.
"Hey!" came the young airbender's protest through the wood.
"Run along, Ikki!"
"Aw…"
There was a beat of silence.
Then Ikki's muffled grumbles evolved into full-on feral frustration. She scratched at air, letting out incoherent growls. Then, just as quickly, silenced again, punctuated by one last exaggerated huff of defeat as she pouted.
Inside, the room settled into silence.
Asami wandered toward the hexagonal window on the far wall, the only real opening in the cozy, barebones space. The crisp air swept in the opening, carrying the distant hum of Republic City. the skyline loomed like a memory she hadn't asked to revisit.
Her eyes lingered quietly there.
Korra leaned against the door with a sigh, half-expecting Ikki to try and break through like a tiny tornado. When the attack didn't come, her attention drifted to Asami—still, quiet, and looking… lonely.
This was long overdue. Strange, how they'd never truly spoken alone before.
No interruptions. No distractions.
Just them.
And after everything that had happened, it felt like a moment Korra couldn't keep dodging.
"So…" Korra said, hesitating as she pushed off the door and took a few cautious steps forward. Her fingers reached for the back of her neck, scratching idly as she tried to sound casual. "Here;s your room"
It was a humble little space—one bed tucked into the corner, a bedside lamp atop a small table, a wooden dresser beside a plain closet. It was almost monastic. A far cry from the luxury Asami grew up in.
"I know it's a little… rustic compared to what you're used to" Korra added, voice dipping lower, unsure if it counted as an apology or an excuse.
Truth was, she didn't really know how to talk to Asami. She'd spent most of her time avoiding it–-especially after that night with Mako.
But Asami, ever gracious, let none of that awkwardness show.
"I think it's charming" she said softly, her voice like a balm. She glanced out the window again. "The best part about it? Nothing here reminds me of my father"
Her words hung in the air, weighty but not bitter. Just… honest.
Her gaze dropped for a moment before returning to Korra, a genuine smile cutting through the lingering sadness.
"Thank you for your hospitality. Especially after—"
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door shuddered under a series of sharp raps, slicing clean through their moment.
Korra's shoulders dropped with a sigh as her jaw tightened. The moment was over.
"Ikki! I swear, if you don't leave us alone, I'm gonna—"
Her voice had already taken on that heavy, older-sister bite as she turned, ready to chew out the pint-sized whirlwind she was sure stood behind the doors.
But the sliding panel opened before she could finish her sentence—revealing someone significantly taller.
Korra's mouth faltered mid-threat, her entire tone doing a clumsy backflip. "Oh… uh…"
She pasted on a crooked, painfully unconvincing smile.
"Tenzin, come right in"
TENZIN
AGE: 51
STATUS: Supposed to be Recuperating
Came in the very picture of composed, still in his usual full Air Nomad robes, though perhaps a touch more tired around the eyes than usual.
"Good day, ladies" he said with a courteous nod, his voice calm and grounded.
He glanced at Korra—just briefly—but his attention immediately found Asami standing by the window with the light catching in her dark hair.
"Asami, welcome to the island" he greeted, warm but polite. A host doing his duty, but also a man who hadn't forgotten what she'd been through.
Asami, raised in the world full of expectations and etiquette, dipped her head in a graceful nod that spoke of poise and gratitude. "Thank you for having me"
Tenzin mirrored the gesture with a slight bow of his own. The quiet between them carried mutual respect.
Then, his gaze drifted back to Korra.
"Beifong's replacement, Saikhan, is going to be inducted as the new Chief of Police later"
Korra blinked, visibly unimpressed. For one, she doesn't exactly know who that is.
"Cool" she said with a shrug. "And you want us to attend? Or something"
"I would've suggested that" he replied evenly. "But you're needed somewhere else"
Korra tilted her head, one brow lifting in slow confusion.
—————————————————————————————
[Republic City Police Headquarters]
Outside the grand entrance of the building, the city buzzed with anticipation. A podium stood polished under the morning sun, the new Chief of Police delivering his induction speech to a sea of cameras and eager ears.
Behind him, the council members flanked the stage—dignified and composed. Tenzin stood among them, a quiet pillar opposite to Tarrlok, while officers lined the steps in perfect formation, embodying the promise of order.
But behind the press, beyond the spectacle, the real focus lay elsewhere.
Deep within the building's quieter halls, far removed from the noise and ceremony, Korra walked alongside the woman who once commanded those very uniforms.
LIN BEIFONG
AGE: 51
STATUS: Resigned
The rhythmic echo of their boots on polished tile followed them down deeper into the corridor toward the interrogation wing.
"What does she even want with me?" Korra asked, her voice low but edged with confusion.
Lin's jaw tightened, but her words held no answers. "I'm not sure. She hasn't told us why exactly"
Her gaze remained fixed ahead, sharp and unreadable, though something about her silence hinted at unease.
"Still, she made one thing clear" Lin added after a beat. "She won't speak to anyone… except you"
Korra slowed, brows pinching in suspicion.
"Are we sure this isn't a set up?" Her voice dropped a notch, unease creeping in as images from the night before resurfaced. "Like before?"
"We can't say for certain" Lin's answer was blunt, but not dismissive. "But she's our only lead on the Equalist's plans. If there's any truth to the information she's planning to give, you're the only one she'll say it to"
They approached the end of the long corridor, where the hall narrowed into a solid, unremarkable wall. Lin's pace eased, her boots slowing against the tile until she fell into step beside Korra. Noticing her expression, she placed a firm hand on her shoulder, grounding her.
"Listen" she said, her tone softening beneath the usual steel. "I know it's been hard for you since Zhen… since what happened. But if you want real answers—this is the only way to get them"
The words landed heavier than Korra expected. She hadn't said anything out loud, hadn't told anyone how much she needed to know. If Zhen's betrayal had been real. If any of it had meant something. If she ever was something to him.
She swallowed, her throat dry. "I got it"
The two stood in silence before the solid wall. Lin raised both arms and made a sweeping motion to the side. The metal groaned, shifted, and parted—revealing the entrance to the interrogation chamber behind.
"Be careful in there" Lin's hand found her shoulder again, firmer this time as she met Korra's eyes. "If anything goes wrong, I'll be just outside"
Korra gave a quiet nod, unable to shake the weight coiling in her chest. Then she faced forward, took a breath that scraped the back of her throat, and exhaled slowly. Her steps carried her inside.
The metal wall rumbled shut behind her, sealing her in the room.
At the center sat a young girl, chained at the wrists to a bolted-down metal table. She didn't move, didn't struggle free—just sat there, posture eerily still.
A white fox mask obscured her face, but Korra felt her stare pierce straight through it. Through her.
Why she was still allowed to wear it was a question all its own.
SERA
AGE: 16
STATUS: "NEEDLE"
Korra composed herself, keeping her expressions controlled as she approached and sank into the chair across from Sera. That silent gaze never left her.
"So…" she cleared her throat, trying—and failing—to sound like someone who knew what they were doing. "What should I call you?"
The young girl tilted her head like a curious animal, voice soft and almost amused. "No need for names"
Korra eyed the porcelain mask, unnerved. "Didn't think they'd let you keep the mask on"
A soft chuckle escaped behind the mask. It was obvious Korra was inexperienced at it, which Sera found amusing.
"They tried" she said simply, with a touch too much delight. "Let's just say… it didn't work out"
Korra didn't press. She didn't need to know the details to imagine them—and something about the girl's tone suggested it was better not to.
She leaned forward slightly, feigning a calm she didn't feel. "I heard you wanted to talk to me. Why?"
"I figured you had something you wanted to know" Sera said, lounging back as far as her shackled wrists would allow, the chains rattling softly with the motion. "But I want to hear you ask first"
Korra dropped the pretense. "What's Amon up to?"
Her tone carried no patience, just the cold weight of demand.
But Sera merely gave a slow, theatrical shake of her head.
"No. No. No. That's not what you really want to know… right?"
Korra's breath caught. A pulse of unease crawled up her spine. Behind that white fox mask, she swore she could feel the curve of a grin.
And then it clicked.
A flush of heat crept into her chest. Her gaze faltered. She bit the inside of her cheek, lips pressed together as her eyes dropped to the table. Pride warred with desperation—until finally, the silence cracked.
"Where is he?" She asked quietly, the words dragging out of her like a reopened wound. "Where's Zhen?"
"Leader doesn't necessarily stay with the Equalists…" Sera's tone shifted, her usual playfulness vanishing into something flatter. "But he has hideouts all over Republic City"
Her fingers twitched, subtly indicating herself. Korra's eyes narrowed, following the gesture. Not toward her hands—but higher. Nestled in the girl's hair, skewering the bun, was a long, metal pin.
A weapon disguised as elegance.
Wary, Korra rose. Every instinct told her not to trust this girl, not fully—but if she wanted answers, she needed to follow. The young Avatar approached with caution, every step measured with suspicion.
Her fingers brushed the pin, sliding it free from Sera's hair.
The carefully bound bun didn't even untangle, the pin only being there as a hidden weapon.
Wrapped tightly along the cool length of metal was a strip of paper. Korra unrolled it gently, revealing a hand-drawn map of Republic City, smudged with ink and folded too many times.
Circles marked various spots across the city. A few were crossed out with heavy strokes.
"That's most of what I know" Sera said, watching her. "The ones I've been to are circled. He probably has more"
Korra's gaze lingered on the cross marks. One sat over the Sato estate, another on the abandoned factory she and Mako had infiltrated. Sites that had been compromised.
Her eyes scanned back to the circles. There were a few still untouched.
"Did Zhen…" the name caught in her throat as she felt a sting in her chest. She bit it back and forced the rest out. "Did Zhen have any of these he frequents?"
"Zuko library" Sera answered without a hint of hesitation. Her voice dulled completely, almost not a hint of emotion. "He turned a small part of the attic into a hideout. Inspectors seemed to have skipped that part of the building so he turned it into his second base"
Korra's grip tightened around the small map. It wasn't much. Barely even a lead. But it was something. Though it hasn't been long, it was something that brought her one step closer to facing him again.
She exhaled, slow and steady, then rolled the map and slipped it into her pocket with care–-like it was more fragile than it looked
"Thanks" she said quietly, placing a hand on Sera's shoulder. "I'll make sure this helps give you a lighter sentence"
No nod. No reaction. Just that silent porcelain stare through the mask.
And Korra didn't wait for a response.
The metal groaned to life across from them, sliding open with heavy weight.
As Korra started to walk to the exit, Sera called out.
"Avatar?"
She paused, one foot past the threshold.
Sera's voice—so soft, it nearly got lost in the noise of the grinding wall—held her still.
Korra turned slightly, just enough to glimpse the girl over her shoulder.
There was a stutter in Sera's words, a tremor she hadn't allowed herself before.
"The Leader is… in need of help" she explained, voice stripped of its earlier seriousness. Just a quiet, naked truth. "He's been… trying to make sure the rest of us get out. Away from the Equalists. But it's like he never planned an escape for himself"
She fidgeted, thumbs twisting over one another in the silence that followed.
"For all it's worth… No matter how cruel it was. Leader does what he can to help us… to help his people. So please…" her gaze fell to the cold surface of the table, the words barely escaping her lips. "Please… help him"
Korra stood motionless at the exit, the weight of that plea hanging in the air behind her like smoke. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, knuckles aching.
She said nothing.
And then she walked out.
The metal wall sealed shut behind her, cutting off the girl's voice—and everything else.
Korra exhaled sharply, the breath leaving her like steam off hot metal. That brief conversation had drained more from her than a full day's worth of sparring. She slipped the small, crumpled map deeper into her pocket, fingers tightening around it as if to ground herself.
"You doing alright?" Came Lin's voice, who had been waiting for her with a trace of concern on her face.
"Yeah" Korra straightened, pushing down the knot in her chest. "I got what we need"
She reached for the map to hand it over—only to be interrupted by a voice so pompous it made her teeth grind.
"Ah. Avatar Korra" the words oozed with artificial charm. "What a pleasant surprise. I assumed you were busy with your training since I didn't see you at the council meeting"
Both Korra and Lin turned toward the echo of the voice, already bracing for its owner.
TARRLOK
AGE: 37
STATUS: Feeling Arrogant
Tarrlok strode down the hall with the self-importance of a man who believed the world revolved around his every word.
Dressed in a modern take on traditional Water Tribe robes, hands clasped behind his back, he moved like he was walking on stage rather than through a police compound. A cluster of the police force and task force officers trailed behind him like props.
He halted just short of them, smiling with that rehearsed elegance that only made Korra's expression tighten. Her fingers slipped the map back into her pocket in one fluid motion, her eyes locked on his.
"Well" he began, hand resting dramatically on his chest. "Now that your little probending distractions are behind you, I'm thrilled to officially recruit you into my task force. I trust you're ready to do your part for the city?"
Korra let out a breath through her nose, arms folding across her chest like armor.
"Forget it" she said, cold and direct. "There's no way I'm ever joining your little vanity project. Especially after your history of failures"
Tarrlok flinched. Though her refusal disappointed him, it was the insult that gave a reaction. But his smile remained—practiced and confident.
"That is unfortunate to hear" he replied, tone smooth as ice. "But I'm sure you'll come to your senses… especially once we capture your old friend"
The words froze the air cold, chilling the space between them. Korra felt the weight of them settle in her gut.
"What are you talking about?" Korra asked, hostility clear in her voice.
Tarrlok tilted his head slightly, a gesture that dripped with condescension—like a professor indulging the ignorance of a pupil. "Oh, come now. Surely you know who exactly I mean"
Korra's fist clenched at her sides, her breathing shallow, steadying.
"Why, Zhen, of course" he said, savoring the name as it left his mouth, letting it fall like a dagger between them. "Someone you shared… quite the close relationship with. Though that no longer matters, I suppose. He's just another piece of Equalist garbage now—soon to be captured"
Lin shifted beside her, alert. Her presence providing a steady anchor against the rising tension.
"I don't know what you think you know" Korra growled, heat rising in her voice, though it barely concealed the sting beneath it. "But if you lay a hand on him—"
Tarrlok's veneer of politeness cracked just slightly, enough to reveal the iron edge beneath.
"You'll what, Avatar?" Tarrlok interrupted, tone sharpening like a sword. "Shield a criminal from well-deserved justice?"
The words stopped her cold. She had nothing to fire bacl—because he wasn't wrong.
Tarrlok saw it. He saw everything. And his smug smile slithered back into place.
"Don't worry" he said. "I'll make sure you get your reunion… after he's in chains"
Korra's heart kicked in her chest. Her expression shifted to confusion, if only for a moment.
"You really think you could keep secrets in this place?" Tarrlok continued, voice silkier now, cruel with satisfaction. "While you were having your little heart-to-heart with that charming girl, I had Chief Saikhan listening in"
A low chuckle bubbled from his throat, rich with mockery.
"I should thank you, really. You save us the trouble of finding him ourselves"
Korra's breath hitched.
"Tenzin was right about you" she muttered, the words escaping like the final flicker of a flame. "You played Zhen. You played Beifong. And now you're using the Chief of Police. You're probably planning to just use me as another piece in your little game"
The young Avatar stepped forward, eyes burning. Whatever restraint she'd held before had shattered. Lin's hand reached out instinctively, but Korra had already crossed the line.
"Well, listen here, Bub" she said, each syllable like a punch. "Even if you need me—I sure do not need you. I'm the Avatar"
Tarrlok didn't flinch. Not even a blink. His grin just deepened, carved with condescension.
"No" he shook his head, denying her words. "You are not"
His gaze locked with hers, unimpressed by her attempt at intimidation.
"You are nothing but a half-baked Avatar in training" he continued, twisting the knife deeper. "Which reminds me… how is your airbending going? Made any… significant progress"
Silence fell heavy around her. Korra didn't answer. No, she couldn't answer. Her shoulder dropped ever so slightly, her eyes falling to the floor—not out of fear, but something she felt was worse: shame.
Tarrlok drank in the moment, his voice curling in triumph.
"I didn't think so"
The smirk he wore felt like a slap. Korra stayed quiet, the sting settling deep.
Then, Chief Saikhan leaned in from behind, murmuring something low and urgent into Tarrlok's ear.
Whatever it was, it made the Councilman's smile twist in satisfaction.
"Well" he said, straightening his coat with performative precision. "Seems my task force has infiltrated your Equalist friend's hideout"
He pivoted on his heel, deliberate… arrogant.
"Consider this a warning, Korra" he tossed over his shoulder, voice like a gavel. "If you will not join me in bringing your criminal friend to justice… then you best stay out of my way"
He disappeared down the corridor, flanked by officers, his presence lingering like a bad taste. The silence that followed was heavy—too heavy.
Korra stood rooted, breath shallow, the cut from his words pressing into her skin like frostbite.
A hand rested gently on her back. It warmed her, steadied her.
"Korra…" her voice was quiet, roughened by years of duty and restraint. She wasn't a comforting figure by nature, but the attempt was there. "Ignore him. Right now, we focus on finding Zhen—and figure out what Amon's planning"
The words pulled Korra from the edge, just enough.
"Yeah…" she murmured, barely above a whisper.
She reached into her pocket, pulling out the crumpled map. It was mangled from how tightly she'd been gripping it. She stared at it for a second before extending it toward Lin.
"Take it"
Lin glanced down at the bundle of worn paper in her hand, unsure of its weight until Korra spoke again.
"It's Zhen's hideouts"
Their eyes met. No bravado. Just raw urgency, pouring out from Korra's gaze in a silent plea.
"Find him… please"
There was no need to ask why. Lin saw everything she needed to in that look. The pain. The conflict. The small hope.
"I got it" she said, putting the map in her pocket.
Korra nodded back, but… it was more to herself than Lin.
She wanted to stop the Equalists. To bring down Amon. To prove that she was the Avatar everyone expects.
But deeper than all of that, buried beneath the need to prove herself—
She needed to hear what Zhen had to say from his own mouth.
But that's something she's yet to realize herself.
—————————————————————————————
[Later Afternoon, Fire Lord Zuko Library]
True to its name, the Fire Lord Zuko Library was one of Republic City's most revered cultural sanctuaries.
It wasn't just a place for books and scrolls—it thrived as a communal hub, offering free classes, history workshops, and quiet study alcoves for all walks of life. Professors mingled with street kids. Elders traded ideas with eager-eyed students. Knowledge breathed in every corner.
But not everyone who came here came to learn.
Up in the oldest wing—far above the polished marble floors and curated exhibit halls—floorboards moaned under heavy steps. Time had warped the wood; each creak echoed like a warning in the silence. Dust hung in the air, catching slivers of the afternoon light from narrow windows.
Boots pressed carelessly across the groaning planks. The figure who wore them moved with casual confidence, despite the rickety steps. His clothing was the same as always—sleveless shirt revealing lean, scarred arms, a loose skirt draped over worn brown pants, and the half-mask strapped across his face like a patient. The only item out of place was the sheathed sword at his hip, swaying gently with each step.
ZHEN
AGE: 19
STATUS: Currently Wanted
In one hand, he balanced a crinkled paper bag that carried the comforting smell of cheap takeout. The other fumbled inside his pockets, the quiet jingle of metal betraying his frustration.
'Where's the damn key…'
He shifted the bag to his other arm, fingers dipping into the opposite pocket with more urgency.
Then a click of cold metal answered him.
"There you are…" he muttered under his breath, tugging out a blue feather tied to a rusted key, edges dulled by age and frequent use.
The door in front of him stood silent and unloved. Layers of dust dulled its lacquered finish, a thing cobweb threading one upper corner. Zhen reached for the lock, but just as the key slipped in, something tugged his attention.
Right by his boot—barely visible against the floot—was a sliver of tape.
He exhaled through his nose, not in surprise, but in mild irritation, as life had once again proven itself easy to predict.
The key turned with a reluctant click, the lock giving way to reveal nothing but darkness beyond the threshold.
The door groaned open like an old throat clearing itself. Faint hallway light spilled in behind him, pushing the shadows back just enough to carve out the outline of his old home.
It was quiet.
Of course it was.
Zhen stepped inside without much thought, ignoring the switch on the wall.
He didn't really need it.
Every inch of this place was already etched into muscle memory—the low counter of the kitchenette, the cracked tiles near the faucet, the old, tilted desk, and the slumping couch.
The paper bag landed with a soft thud on the counter as he peeled off his mask, letting it dangle from his fingers for a second before tossing it aside.
He moved like he was operating on routine, not urgency—each step a rhythm, each gesture deliberate.
"Guess I should've figured about Needle giving away my location" he muttered, his voice more amused than bitter.
No one answered. No one he expected to.
He wasn't really talking to anyone—just the air, like he often did.
From the bag, he pulled a dented carton. One cigarette. It slipped between his lips with practiced ease.
Then he let the stove hiss to life under his hand, the flame catching with a flick. He leaned in, letting the cherry tip glow to life.
A drag. A pause. The first exhale clouded the kitchen in a whisper of smoke.
He grabbed the bag again as he drifted through the apartment, his boots stirring dust from the floorboards. The wood creaked through the quiet, protesting beneath his weight.
At the far end, a glass door–-dull with grime and streaked by years of forgotten stain.
He pushed it open with a heavy breath. Sunlight cut into the room like his own blade, chasing out the gloom in long, golden slashes.
The air shifted. Dust lifted. And now, in the light—
They reveal themselves.
Tucked behind rusting metal barrels all over the room, wedged between old furniture, even just standing in the middle of the room in a doomed attempt at subtlety. Republic City's finest Police force and Tarrlok's Task Force. Waiting in silence, their guards up with nothing but the shadows at their backs and their bending.
Zhen raised an eyebrow—not surprised, not afraid. Maybe even a little disappointed.
He leaned casually back against the balcony railing, weight pushing the rested metal slightly as he took a long, leisurely drag from his cigarette.
Smoke curled upward in slow spirals, lazily dissolving into the late afternoon night.
"Well" he said, exhaling with a blank face. "Sorry to keep you waiting, I guess?"
The cigarette lingered between his fingers as his gaze drifted—slow and unhurried—across every face crowding the dim, dust-lit space.
One officer stepped forward, metal boots striking the floor with authority.
"Zhen. You're under arrest for multiple counts of murder, kidnapping, destruction of property, and terrorism dating back a year ago"
No flinch. No scowl. Just another drag, deeper this time, the ember glowing brighter in the low light. Smoke curled through the silence like a lazy snake.
"And you think…" Zhen's fingers lifted from his side, gesturing vaguely toward the crowded room. "...Twenty-three people were enough? Is the Avatar coming as well?"
The officer didn't respond. Just raised a hand. Two officers began to circle from the flanks, steps slow and deliberate, their guards up for any wrong movement Zhen planned on making.
But Zhen didn't take a step from his spot.
"You said terrorism, right?" He questioned, his tone came smooth like he was making small talk—completely detached from the moment. "I don't think I've done anything like that"
The officers ignored his words as they all started creeping closer to him.
Zhen tilted his head, a lazy smile edging at the corner of his mouth as he shrugged.
"Well… not yet"
The cigarette flicked from his fingers.
It bounced once, barely a whisper against the wood floor. Then again. Then it rolled quietly until it stopped just at the boots of the lead officer.
He looked down.
Confused. Stupidly.
And when he looked back up. He never got a chance to utter another word.
KRA-KOOM!
The stove went first—flame expanding on one side of the room like it was let loose. Then it touched the barrels scattered around. One after another in violent succession, light and heat tore through the apartment and officers with a scream of fire.
The shockwave rolled outward, devouring the walls, shattering glass, ripping toward the balcony like it was paper.
The metal rail twisted and screamed, then snapped—and Zhen went with it, diving down gravity.
But even though he fell, he wasn't falling apart.
Wind tore at him as the sky flipped. Smoke trailed behind him like a cloak. He pivoted midair, spine snapping straight, boots sliding against the stone wall.
The sword flashed free from its sheath, shining its dark blade against the sun.
He stabbed it through the stone, grinding the steel with a piercing shriek. Sparks danced in his wake as Zhen carved his way down, slowing his fall in a controlled slide.
Debris scattered around him–-shattered glass, broken beams falling, glowing embers–-all chasing him toward the ground in a glittering chaos.
Above, the building screamed. Below, the streets roared with distant sirens and panicked screams, muffled by smoke and shockwaves.
He hit the ground in a burst of dust and splintered rubble.
Silence met him.
No squad waiting. No ambush. Not even bystanders that let their curiosity get the better of them.
Just the aftershock of the explosion rolling out in waves, the chaos having driven everyone toward safety.
Zhen stood in the fog of his own escape, hand still resting on the hilt embedded in the stone.
For a second, he scanned the empty street—and nothing moved.
He relaxed.
Reluctantly.
With one pull, he wrenched the sword free, the stone wall groaning in protest. A practiced flick of the wrist, and the blade slid back into its sheath with a clean whisper.
"That was it?" he muttered. The faintest trace of disappointment ghosted his tone, like he'd expected more.
Or he wanted more.
He didn't even run. Didn't even bother to look back at the ruins he'd left smoldering above.
Zhen simply turned and walked away, his pace slow, as if he could escape was never an issue.
As if telling the city they could do nothing but let him go.
But something itched the edge of his thoughts, a ghost brushing the back of his mind as he slid a fresh cigarette between his lips.
A small memory.
An image he hadn't meant to carry with him.
"I hope she's doing well" he murmured, voice barely audible over the settling noise.
His fingers wandered through his pockets in search of a light to spark a flame.
But found none.
So instead, he tilted his gaze skyward.
Maybe… just maybe, hoping she was looking up at the same sky.
And then he smiled—not the cruel kind, or the face he wore when taking a life—but something softer.
"I hope you succeed…" he whispered to the wind. "Korra"
And walked on.
—————————————————————————————
[Evening, Air Temple Island]
She didn't even remember how she got here.
At some point, after handing Lin the map, her legs had simply moved on their own—guided not by purpose, but by the weight in her chest.
Every step had been a silent echo of thoughts she couldn't quiet, pulling her further from everyone else, further from the noise, until all that remained was the hush of evening wind threading through the trees.
The path beneath her boots was full of leaves, but she barely noticed the soft crunch against her steps. Her gaze drifted past everything—through everything—as the final blush of sunlight bled into the sea, painting the waters in strokes of fading amber and blue.
She broke from the tree line without realizing it, her thoughts catching up only when the clearing opened before her—and with it, tucked against the edge of the cliff like a memory that refused to fade, but just might with a slight touch, was the small hut.
Small. Weather-worn. Collapsing under the quiet weight of neglect.
The roof sagged, warped like a tired spine. Wooden beams curled inward, as if the place itself was grieving its keeper. Planks had fallen from the sides, some scattered in the overgrown grass like forgotten thoughts.
Korra stood for a moment, frozen in the stillness, until the tip of her boot nudged one of the stray logs surrounding an old campfire. Charred wood. Cold ash. A ring of stones that hadn't felt heat in days.
With a breath that trembled more than she wanted to admit, she sank down onto the log. Her shoulders slumped. Her hands fell to her lap. And her eyes… her eyes stayed fixed on the blackened pit before her…
As if it might spark life…
As if someone would light it for her again.
But the fire was long gone.
And right now, so was the one who she wanted to see the most.
"I… I don't know what to do…" the words barely left her lips, as fragile as breath, slipping free before she could hold them back.
She confessed. She collapsed.
Her body followed. She pulled her legs up onto the log, wrapping her arms around them, curling inward. A fortress to shield away what she felt. Her forehead sank against her knees as tears traced silently down her cheeks, staining the worn fabric of her pants.
It was pathetic. Laughable, even.
The only person who ever seemed to have answers for her—however flawed, or wrong they might be—was the one who left her with more questions as he tore the ground from beneath her feet.
As if in his own… broken way, he had been helping her navigate a road he couldn't see himself.
And now she was here. Lost on what to do. Lost on what she was.
While he was on the other side.
With the answers she needs.
"KO~RRA!"
The voice cut through the silence like a burst of color in a grayscale world.
She jolted upright, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her palm, snapping her legs back down as her heart thudded, unsure if it was relief or panic.
A rustle from the bushes answered her. Then a flash of red fur.
A little fire ferret chirped as he bounded into the clearing, tail flicking, eyes wide with concern.
He scurried toward Korra and leapt up effortlessly, curling onto her shoulder, licking away the remnant of tears with small, warm strokes.
"Hi Pabu…" her voice cracked as she reached up to stroke his fur, fingers sinking into the familiar softness like she was trying to remember what comfort felt like.
Though the rustling didn't stop. And much heavier footsteps followed.
"There you are" Bolin's voice followed, light but laced with relief.
He stepped out from between the trees, brushing aside a low-hanging branch. Behind him, Mako and Asami emerged, taking in the unfamiliar clearing with cautious curiosity.
Bolin gave a low whistle.
"Check this place out" he gestured toward the sagging shack. "Wonder why the acolytes never cleared this out"
He wandered closer, peering at the ruined structure with a kind of boyish wonder–-as if even wreckage could be something special.
Asami didn't share the sentiment. Her attention was on Korra. She moved quietly, settling beside her on the log without a word at first.
Then, gently. "Are you okay?"
Korra couldn't even lift her gaze. She knew her eyes would tell the truth her words would deny.
"I'm fine" she lied, though even she couldn't pretend to believe it. Her voice held the weight of someone trying to convince themselves.
Mako stood behind them, arms folded, concern carved into every line of his face.
Maybe more than needed.
"Come on" he said, his usual sternness gone. "What's wrong?"
She didn't answer right away. Her boots scuffed against the white earth, dragging a lazy path through the thin veil of snow that had settled.
"I don't know…" she murmured. The words came slowly, as if she had to dig for them through the fog.
Then suddenly, the dam cracked.
"I don't know what's wrong" she said again, firmer, growing her own frustration with herself. "I don't know what the city wants. I don't know what I want. I don't know if I'll ever be a good enough Avatar! I don't even know if I'll ever be able to airbend!"
Then her voice wavered, but she didn't stop.
"And I don't know if…" her breath caught. She blinked down at the cold, unlit campfire, as though it might flicker to life and offer her answers she couldn't reach on her own. "I don't know if what Zhen to us was ever real. Or how much of it was just… fake"
The silence that followed was heavy.
She let out a slow, broken sigh, then nudged a loose stone into the ashes with the toe of her boot.
It clinked dully against charred rock.
"How can I even save the city with how I am now…?" Her question hung, not even expecting an answer. "I can't even tell when one of the people closest to me was a deranged serial killer…"
The last words trembled out of her, ashamed.
"I'm the worst Avatar ever…"
Then, without a word, a warm hand slid over hers.
"That's nonsense" Asami said gently, grounding her. "You're amazing"
"Yeah, and remember" Mako added, his tone firm with the kind of clarity only hindsight gives. "Avatar Aang hadn't mastered all the elements when he was battling the Fire Nation. He was just a little kid"
"Don't let Zhen's betrayal tear you down" Bolin said, finally joining in the conversation. "You still got us"
He moved closer, the fire's absence making their closeness feel warmer.
"Look, the arena might be shut down" he added, letting a spark of his usual optimism shine through. "But we're still a team. Just like Avatar Aang's! The New Team Avatar!"
He grinned wide, opening his arms like the title alone was enough to lift them all.
"We got your back Korra" Mako leaned in slightly, his hand rising, fist closed with a promise. "You don't have to try and save the city alone"
"Yeah! We're doing this with you!" The younger brother inserted, throwing one arm around Mako and lifting his own hand to grip his brother's fist.
Korra hesitated—still feeling… lost–-but Asami's hand gave hers a gentle squeeze.
"Together" she whispered.
Korra didn't pull away. Instead, she reached forward and gripped over Bolin's hand, drawing strength from them all. Asami's hand gripped over Korra's, sealing their quiet vow.
"Yeah" Korra breathed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You're right"
She didn't feel whole yet. But she didn't feel alone either.
—————————————————————————————
[A Bit Later]
With Korra's spirits lifted, the team regrouped in the courtyard under the pale glow of twilight, the last hints of the sun fading behind Republic City's skyline.
"Get ready Republic City" Bolin narrated in a whispered voice, flexing his arms with mock seriousness. "You are about to be patrolled by… Team Avatar"
He struck a self-important pose, arms crossed like a statue carved out of pure bravado, just as Mako came to stand beside him. Behind them, Korra appeared with Naga in tow, the polar-bear dog huffing loudly with a cold breath.
Of course, they weren't complete just yet.
Bootsteps echoed lightly across the courtyard tiles as Asami strode into view, her uniform fitted, and right hand reinforced in metal, gleaming faintly beneath the city lights.
Mako gave her a once-over, arching a brow with a proud smirk. "Guess you were always good at accessorizing your outfits"
Asami met his gaze with a subtle grin and raised her glove-clad hand. The metal joints clinked with satisfying weight as she flexed her fingers, the sound echoing faintly in the still air.
"Figured I need a way to fight back" she said calmly, resolution clear in her voice.
Electricity hummed to life at her palm, casting a soft blue glow over her emerald eyes.
"Besides" she added, eyes sparkling with the glove. "Wouldn't using their own equipment against them be like… a slap in the face?"
As everyone gathered, a ripple of amusement passed through the group. Korra's grin stretched wide, a flicker of fire reigniting behind her gaze.
"Alright" she said, slamming her fist into her palm, then playfully bumping it for emphasis. "Let's ride!"
Without thinking much, the three scrambled onto Naga's back in rapid succession. The polar-bear dog gave a long, exasperated huff, her sides dipping under the sudden weight. Still, she bore it like the companion she was.
Until Bolin, in true Bolin fashion, threw a fist in the sky.
"Naga, away!"
With a theatrical shout, he launched himself onto her too.
Which was the poor girl's final straw.
Naga grunted, then she jerked her body with a disgruntled snort. The team yelped in unison, toppling like dominoes as she ducked her head and sent them sliding off her fur in a tangled heap.
She let out a throaty groan before sitting back, shaking her head once, then panting smugly like she'd made her point clear.
"Alright. Scratch that" Korra groaned, still sprawled out, cradling her head as she sat up. "Got any other ideas?"
Asami rose smoothly, barely a wrinkle in sight.
With barely any struggle, she flicked her hair back, letting it fall in place like it had never moved. Her fingers brushed her chin, a gleam of thought dancing in her expressive grin.
"I think I have the answer"
—————————————————————————————
[Late Night, Somewhere in the Central District]
It wasn't just the Avatar and her friends who were making waves tonight. Criminals had their own way of savoring the dark.
Their own kind of rhythm amongst city lights.
High above the restless street, perched on the edge of a rooftop like a gargoyle, Zhen sat with both legs swinging lazily. The hem of his dark skirt fanned out behind him, catching the occasional breeze. A battered radio buzzed softly by his side, whispering static and broken melodies, while he calmly tended to the arrows resting in his lap—silver heads gleaming under the warm feeling of Republic City's glow.
A sharp thud echoed behind him, it wasn't hostile, just heavy. Footsteps like pistons.
"Just got the report, Leader" came a muffled voice, deep and coarse. A weighted figure moved into the rooftop's fringe light, dragging something limp behind him. "They're escorting our captured engineers to the next rally point"
"STEAM"
AGE: ???
STATUS: ???
Without ceremony, he dropped the unconscious body behind Zhen. Their arms and legs were bound in tight ropes, a tape covered their mouths giving them shallow breaths, head lolling with the jolt.
Zhen didn't look back. He simply counted the arrows across his fingers, the soft click of metal on metal blending with broken static of the radio.
"They should be able to get there no problem" he said, voice detached. He felt nothing of it.
Steam shifted, the air around him briefly hissing with the heat of vapor. But his silence stretched too long, uncertain of how to make his report.
Zhen finally glanced back over his shoulder as he put the arrows in a quiver. His eyes didn't need to ask twice. "Spit it out"
Steam exhaled, mechanical vents on his shoulders releasing a faint hiss. "Well…"
He scratched at the back of his neck, metal fingers clinkling awkwardly against one another. His words came reluctantly, like he didn't want it to be said.
"Your uh…" he paused, bracing for something. "Avatar is chasing the caravan…"
The words lingered like smoke.
A long, drawn silence followed.
Then, Zhen laughed.
It wasn't just a soft chuckle. It was a full-bodied, unrestrained laugh that echoed off the rooftop tiles and danced down the streets below.
Passersby craned their necks at the sound, unsettled or curious.
But Zhen didn't care. Let them look at his joy.
"Ha… I guess…" he exhaled sharply, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as the grin lingered. "I guess she worked it out with her friends"
He'd expected her to bounce back. Of course he had.
But this soon? That was a surprise—and not an unpleasant one.
There was no panic in his face.
No dead in his voice.
Only something rare touched his emotion. Positive even.
Pride.
He inhaled, the night air crisp against his skin.
"Send word to the driver—cut through the alleyway. Swap the vehicles. The volunteer grunts will take the engineers' place in lockup"
He rose to his feet, slinging the quiver over his shoulder in one smooth motion. A broken mask dangled from his fingers, catching the glint of moonlight.
His red eyes, usually dim and unreadable, now flickered with quiet embers on the verge of flaring.
Like twin red moons on the verge of eclipse.
Steam shifted, vents pulsing with a low hiss. "Mask said we weren't to use that play unless we were sure they have no way out"
Zhen fastened the mask over his face, the edges cracked, but still holding shape. He adjusted the strap and picked up his bow.
"The Avatar will stop at nothing to prove to herself that she can protect the people" he said quietly, voice now filtered through the mask's faint rasp. But the flicker of reminiscence was still there. "That's the kind of person she is"
He turned, taking a single, deliberate step off the edge of the rooftop, his clothes whispering with the movement.
His gaze fixed toward the tied up captive, already regaining consciousness.
"They're as good as caught"
Steam tilted his head, a faint hum escaping his mask.
He didn't hide the skepticism behind it, but he didn't challenge it either.
"Is that right…" he muttered, already shifting his weight to leave. "I'll see to it then"
But just before he could make his exit, he watched as Zhen gripped the collar of the bound body at his feet and began dragging him toward the ledge.
"And what about you?" Steam asked, voice more curious than concerned.
Zhen didn't bother looking back. He pulled the captive forward, eyes sharp beneath the cracked mask. There was something dangerous, almost electric, coiled behind his movement.
Something he wasn't trying too hard to hide.
"I'll hold off the Avatar and her team" he replied, an uneasy calm, like he was reciting a tep in a dance he'd practiced a hundred times.
Then, quieter.
A note of thrill barely restrained in the depths of his voice, almost reverent, as the bound man began to writhe in his grasp.
"After dealing with this one"
Steam paused, seeing a strange flicker beneath the cracked mask.
'Leader's emotions are getting more unstable lately' he mused silently.
But he didn't question it aloud. Just gave a shrug, mechanical joints clicking, and turned away.
The hiss of steam and the grin of shifting metal followed his departure until even those faded into the dark.
Alone now, Zhen stepped back toward the ledge, his grip tightening on the captive's collar.
The bound man dangled above the city, limbs flailing wildly as muffled grunts fought against the tape sealing his mouth.
"You're quite a handful. Didn't expect you to be so quick on your feet as an earthbender" Zhen muttered, arms tensing from the weight.
The effort trembled through his muscles, but he didn't falter.
Below, the city carried on. Lights flickered. Traffic buzzed. But bystanders watched as high above the rooftop, time slowed. And Zhen spoke, not expecting for the man squirming in his grasp to listen, but because he needed to.
"You beat your wife because she gave birth to a nonbender" Zhen started, his voice turning cold. "Then you turned that same violence onto your daughter when she grew up since she couldn't bring in money since she couldn't be a probender"
There wasn't even an attempt to respond. Just the panicked struggle of a man who dared to look down.
Then wished he hadn't.
Zhen's tone didn't waver. "You have no regard for the life of your own flesh and blood"
The grip loosened.
And the panic set in.
Zhen could feel the man silently begging now, nodding frantically as if that could undo the years of pain he inflicted.
But Zhen wasn't here to give him a chance.
"I'm not here to make you apologize" he said simply, void of the emotions he showed a while ago. "And I'm not here to help you do better"
A pause. To let everything sink in.
"I'm just here to kill you… by their request"
Then, without ceremony, he simply let go.
No scream escaped—just a muffled breath cut short as the body plummeted and then… splat.
The impact echoed between buildings.
A moment later:
AHHHH!
Cries from the street below. Screams. People shouted. Others scattered. The usual noise of Republic City twisted into panic.
Zhen stepped back from the ledge without a glance. He meant to torture him first before ending it all.
But the body meant nothing to him now.
The crowd? Possibly less than that.
He walked into the shadows with a calm hum under his breath.
Because only one person filled his thoughts now.
And she was looking for him.
End