A/N: After reading some amazing Amon/Korra fanfiction, I have most definitely jumped onto S.S. Amorra. This story might continue, as I've decided to publish it here on a whim. There just aren't enough consensual Amorra fanfictions out there and I plan to deliver.
I plan - emphasis on plan - on making this only several very chunky chapters. They will progressively become surreal as the story goes on, as the Spirit World will mess with the mind. So put your cactus juice glasses on, because I fully intend for things to get funky.
I don't own these characters or Legend of Korra. I would like to note that this story is partially inspired by Spirited Away, a movie that, if you haven't already, you must watch. It's a classic.
"Angels are spirits, flames of fire; they are higher than man, they have wider connections."
Matthew Simpson
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-/ Gateway Part I /-
The dream began the same as it usually did.
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Korra lays her head on the soft downy pillow at the end of her bed, hugging another pillow in her arms as she lets her eyes flutter shut. The warmness of her blanket envelops her, making her feel safe. Secure. A smile curls on her lips, for it seems her worries are drifting away with her consciousness.
The wind suddenly thrashes open her shutters, causing Korra to start, gasping as she sits up in bed. Moonlight illuminates her bedroom floor as it cascades through the small oval window next to her bed. She sees nothing but shadows, but she smells him.
The room fills with the thick scent of sweat and men's cologne, giving Korra a sense of déjà vu. She had inhaled this air before; the tingling sensation in her nostrils associated the smell with fear.
Korra feels her heart racing, thumping erratically against her ribcage. All illusions of safety have faded, lost in another moment. Against her own instinct—some intuition—she rises from her bed and goes toward the window.
She peaks out, seeing nothing but the darkness and a crescent moon in the sky. The wind blows softly; the slightly frigid air only kisses her cheeks.
Exhaling shakily, Korra closes the shutters and bows her head, exhaustion haunting her.
Then a deep, resonating chuckle fills the room.
Korra inhales sharply, turning around, seeing a figure approaching her from the shadows. She knows who it is before the mask is visible.
"Amon," she whispers, a scream hitching in her throat. Paralyzed, she backs against the wall, sliding to the floor as she looked up at the masked man.
Amon pulls back his hood and brushes the side of his porcelain mask thoughtfully. "You knew this was coming," he tells her, crouching down before her. Korra does not move, despite the voice in her head pleading for her to run. To scream. To fight.
Seeds of helplessness are planted in her mind, engulfing her will as she gazes into the pale blue eyes barely concealed by the slits of the mask.
"Please," she breathes, surprised that she was able to speak at all. Amon tilts his head, laughing darkly as a hand approaches her face.
His fingers touch Korra's cheek, lightly at first, but Amon's fingers glide to her chin and squeeze her roughly, forcing her to look into his eyes.
Though she cannot see his face, she knew he was smiling. A flicker of black humor fills his eyes, making her heart pound even harder.
"You will be cleansed," Amon says, growling more than speaking. As he grips her face, his other hand comes to her forehead. Steadying Korra's neck, Amon roughly digs his thumbnail into her forehead.
"I'm saving you for last." Words fill her mind, unfamiliar images of fire and ice pulsating as she begins to cry. Korra no longer has the strength to hold back her fear. Sobs wrack through her, she pleads, she begs—she feels no shame in doing it.
"Please, Amon."
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Korra plunged from her bed as her own deafening screams woke her from her nightmare. Painful sobbing filled her ears she frantically looked around her room. She was alone; no one was there.
The realization that she had been dreaming was not enough to quiet her. The furious tears that poured down her cheeks dampened her face. Korra clawed at her throat as she tried to stop crying—the gasps between her moans did not satiate her need to breathe.
"Korra!" she heard over her sobs, startling her and making her draw fire into her fists. She threw them toward the door, screaming in fear as she curled up on her bed.
"Please!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with terror. The figure approached her further, but she didn't have the strength to fight.
"It's just me," he announced, and as her blurry vision cleared she saw Tenzin. Heaving a sigh of relief, Korra threw her arms around him, burying her wet face in the nook of his shoulder. Tenzin ran his hands comfortingly down her back, soothing her fears as she began to quiet.
After a few minutes, he scooped Korra up and placed her back in bed, gently wrapping her blanket around her. Korra looked up at him, vision still blurry from her tears.
"I will stay here," Tenzin offered, squeezing her hand comfortingly.
Korra sniffled, shaking her head. "I'll be fine."
His eyebrows pinched together doubtfully as he released her hand. "You are safe here," he said curtly, bowing his head as left her room.
Korra had calmed down, no screaming, no gasping for air. Though, despite herself, she continued to cry silent tears as she rested her head on her soft pillow.
She knew, just like every other time, the same nightmare would not haunt her twice in one night.
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Korra raked a hand through her hair as she gazed down into her bowl. Filled with plum-colored sea prunes and wheat noodles, her stomach twisted uncomfortably. The dish was her favorite, but she had no appetite.
"Korra, dear, aren't you hungry?" Pema sat adjacent to her, hazel eyes gazing softly at Korra as she smiled.
Korra shook her head, forcing a grin as she picked up her chopsticks. "Not really."
Nodding in understanding, Pema absentmindedly rubbed a palm over her round pregnant belly. "Your nightmares seem to be getting worse," she observed quietly.
Blushing, Korra rolled her slender wooden chopsticks between her index finger and thumb, eying the intricate patterns down them. "I'm fine," she mumbled.
"Daddydaddydaddyyyyy!" Meelo called, running into the dining room with arms flinging in the air. Behind him, Ikki followed suit on a small air scooter, steering around the table with a grin until she plopped down on her seat cushion. Jinora calmly entered, eyes barely visible as she held a thick leather-bound book to her face.
"No airbending inside," Pema warned her children, waving a finger at Ikki who giggled defiantly.
Larger footsteps came after as Tenzin paced into the dining room, taking a seat next to Pema and greeting her pregnant belly with a soft stroke.
"Good morning," he said politely, glancing around the table. "How are you feeling, Korra?"
Korra didn't hear Tenzin speaking to her, as she was engrossed with her food. Eyes faraway, she poked the sea prunes in her bowl, slightly disgusted at the greenish juice that seeped out of them.
"Korra?" he repeated more firmly.
Looking up, she shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "I'm fine."
Pema and Tenzin exchanged a worried expression.
"Oh, Tenzin," Pema muttered, reaching down to the floor to pick up a sheaf of folded paper. "Here is the morning newspaper."
He thanked her as he took it, unfolding the black and white writing as he took a long drink of hot tea.
Breakfast was relatively quiet except for the children who, as they usually did, played with their food and chatted about fairytale creatures. Despite her uneasiness, Korra forced herself to eat, propping her elbow on the table to hold up her face. Sleep didn't come easy after she had her nightmare, and she couldn't help but let her eyes flutter shut as she ate her sea prunes.
"This is concerning." Tenzin suddenly speaking startled Korra from her haze, causing her to drop her chopsticks that hung loosely from her fingers.
"What is it, dear?" Pema prompted, tilting her head warily. Korra half-listened, still suffering from fatigue.
"Damen Shi, a village about thirty miles north of Republic City, has vanished," Tenzin said carefully, voice shaded with worry. He gazed down at the newspaper, quoting the article. "'Damen Shi, a village built approximately twenty years ago upon discovery of precious minerals being located in the area, has been a stop on most overland trade routes since its founding. In the past, rumors of spiritual invasions have haunted the village.
"'These rumors have been considered false until three days ago, when a caravan of farmers arrived in Damen Shi, only to discover the town has been completely abandoned,'" Tenzin spoke, eyes widening, shaking his head in disbelief. "'Traditionalists believe that the town's residents were consumed by the Spirit World; however, authorities are still investigating the possibility of a small-scale invasion of the area—a direct attack on the United Republic of Nations."
Korra listened with rapt attention to the story, her drained condition fading.
"They found no one?" Pema asked, raising her eyebrows in disbelief. Tenzin shook his head, folding the newspaper and laying it on the table. "What do you think it means?"
"I am inclined to believe the latter theory," he replied, folding his hands in his lap. "That somehow, the Spirit World swallowed everyone in town. Some sort of invasion would leave more evidence—at least one person left to tell the story. It is in the nature of conquerors to spread fear that way."
"Has that ever happened before?" Korra spoke up, eying Tenzin. His brown eyes glinted, his chin bowing as if it was not a story he wished to share.
"There have been rumors," he said softly.
Korra arched an eyebrow suspiciously. "Enlighten us."
Tenzin through a glance down the table, jaw tightening as he looked at his children. He placed a hand over Pema's, squeezing it softly.
"Would you stay with the children? I do not wish them to hear this story." Pema nodded, releasing his hand as he stood. He gestured for Korra to follow him. "Come with me."
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"It has happened before," Tenzin finally said as they entered the meditation area of the Air Temple, their footsteps patting against the panels of wood.
"It has?" Korra asked hesitantly, feeling a shiver run up her spine, a thought caressing her mind. She knew something, but couldn't recall what it was. She remembered, except the words and images to form the memory escaped her.
They both sat down, Korra folded her legs under her as she nodded for Tenzin to continue. "It was shortly before Avatar Aang died," Tenzin went on, stroking his beard. "A smaller, less known village called Yu Do in the Southern Earth Kingdom vanished, just as the newspaper described of Damen Shi.
"My father received a letter from a resident, who had been traveling to Ba Sing Se when the disappearance occurred. Her family gone, she asked Aang to investigate the village—as she believed there to be spirits at work." Tenzin sighed, his eyes far off. "Father didn't tell me much of what happened, except that he was taken to the Spirit World."
Korra gaped, shaking her head. "I thought you got into the Spirit World by meditating?" she asked quietly.
"It was different," Tenzin murmured darkly. "Not only was his spirit taken, his body was too."
Korra gaped. "How is that possible?"
Eyes flickering, Tenzin bowed his head. "I do not know."
Korra cradles her face in her hands, mulling over the thought. Could everything she assumed be incorrect? Perhaps meditation wasn't the only way to contact the Spirit World—her past lives.
The realization hit her, a smile growing on her lips. "I should go to Damen Shi!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. She could go there, take a walk around, get sucked into the Spirit World and chat it up with all the past Avatars—they could help her learn airbending and defeat Amon—
"Absolutely not," Tenzin interrupted her thoughts firmly, his brown eyes widening at her words.
Korra's face fell, eyebrows pulling together. "But—"
Tenzin stood quickly, brushing off his robes and shaking his head. "I should not have planted thoughts in your mind," he muttered regretfully. Korra stood quickly, trying to catch up with him as he walked away.
"Hey! I deserve to know these things!" she protested, voice filling with anger as she padded behind him.
"You are too young to address this matter, Korra," he said roughly, suddenly stopping to turn around. His expression was slightly pained, Korra noted. Almost fearful…
"What am I addressing? I need to learn airbending, and maybe if I went to the Spirit world I could learn!"
"You don't understand, Korra," Tenzin said, quieter. He placed a hand on her shoulders as he exhaled. "The journey nearly killed Avatar Aang."
Korra's lips tightened as she looked to the floor. Aang was a master of all four elements, and very spiritual. "How?"
"Like I said, he didn't explain what happened fully. Only that the town was a direct gate to the Spirit World, which is a very devious place to begin with. Without your body being anchored to this world, you can die." Tenzin released Korra and crossed his arms. "You mustn't go to Damen Shi, Korra," he told her, before turning around and walking away.
Standing alone in the hall of the Air Temple, she turned to face the window. As she saw a White Lotus ferry loading boxes into the cargo hold, she smiled slightly to herself.
When would adults learn that telling Korra not to do something was the least effective way to keep her from doing it?
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The mask was part of him.
Buckled to his face, the porcelain was flush with all his features. The bridge of his nose protruded at the same angle as the false nose on his mask. The slits for his eyes were just wide enough to let his blue irises reflect the light, but still conceal the white scar tissue that bordered his eye socket.
He hadn't looked at his face in years. He presumed that not seeing one's face for such a long time was abnormal, but his scars disgusted him. Before he became malformed, he was handsome. He was also shallow. He never procured affections from any woman who wasn't as attractive as him. That was his code. He still remained shallow, but only toward himself. The mask he wore concealed his secret. His ugliness. His shame.
He stroked the side of his mask, the surface cool to the touch. His mask had become an extension of his fractured soul, part of his cause. His revenge. He would redeem all that was taken with this mask.
He was a symbol.
The mask was part of him.
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"Amon," the words broke him from his train of thought, agitating him slightly.
"What is it?" Amon sat at his desk, hands folded neatly over one another. Professional, not thoughtful. He was the leader.
His lieutenant stepped forward, handing him a stack of papers as he bowed his head slightly in apology. "These are the reports you asked for on the Avatar."
"Yes," Amon said simply, taking the notes. He did not thank his subordinate, for being their leader made them in his debt. He thumbed through the paper, skimming the latest entries. "It says here the Avatar has stowed away on a White Lotus cargo ship?" He read the paragraph more closely, the source coming from an Air Acolyte spy.
"Yes sir, she is being tracked at this moment," the lieutenant assured him. "The last report I received said she was heading north, out of the city."
Amon arched an eyebrow, but of course the lieutenant did not see. "Is that so?" He tossed the papers on his desk, leaning back in his chair. "Is she alone?"
"Yes sir. She only has her polar bear dog."
Sneering beneath his mask, Amon was not surprised. The Avatar and the dog were inseparable. Luckily, he had the skill to subdue even an animal that size easily. The only leverage it had was its size and teeth. Even its thick fur could not shield it from being electrocuted.
Sighing, Amon rose from his seat and raised his hood over his head. "Prepare a team of three men," he ordered the lieutenant. "And a motorcycle for me."
His subordinated bowed to Amon. "Yes sir."
He had promised to save her for last, but he could not let an opportunity such as this to go to waste. She might be the last, but Amon hadn't promised not to hold her captive until her time arrived.
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Sneaking off the island went off without a hitch, and Korra twisted her hands in Naga's fur as they rode down the street. It was chilly, so Korra took the pelt that usually was tied at her waist and draped it over her shoulders. She pulled it over her lips so they wouldn't become chapped.
She had decided to go alone. Ignoring Tenzin's warning was her choice; she wasn't going to drag her friends into yet another dangerous adventure.
The industrial part of the city was behind her as skyscrapers and warehouses faded into a more village-like scenery. She could see a snow-covered hill in the distance, which must have been outside the city based on the fact there were no buildings.
She saw a sign on the side of the road, illegible due to the snow. To verify she was going in the right direction, she slid off Naga's back and approached the sign. Brushing the cold flakes off in with the back of her hand, the emboldened letters became clear.
Damen Shi – 27 miles
Korra climbed back on her polar bear dog that, with the nudge of her foot, took off down the snow-covered road
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Judging by the position of the sun in the sky, Korra judged it was about lunchtime. The last sign she had seen read that Damen Shi was about seven miles away, and she figured it was about time to eat anyways.
Better to go into the Spirit World on a full stomach, she supposed.
The road was empty—no sign of any carriages or Satomobiles—but Korra still thought it would be courteous to direct Naga off the road just in case traffic came along. She bended snow out of the way, revealing a patch of brown grass where Naga could lay down without being submerged in the bitter cold.
"You thirsty girl?" Korra asked, ruffling Naga's ears as she smiled under her pelt. She stomped her foot on the ground, created a cylinder of rock. She placed the palm of her hand in the middle, pushing downward. From the rock she created a water bowl—then she bended the snow into in a thick stream, filling it.
As Naga slurped the water, she ruffled through her saddlebag, finding some fish jerky wrapped in foil. Korra devoured the food, as her appetite had returned since earlier that morning. Mouth dry from the salty meat, she grasped her canteen and emptied it quickly, which she fixed by bending some water from the snow again, continuing the cycle until her thirst was satiated.
Naga whined softly, turning her head to Korra with pleading eyes.
"Oh, you want some jerky?" Korra laughed, feigning disbelief. She removed the remaining fish jerky from the foil and hand-fed it to her polar bear dog, stroking Naga's stomach as she happily ate Korra's leftovers.
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Amon lowered his binoculars, slightly confused by the sight. Seldom had he seen her interact non-violently with his own eyes. The reports he received biweekly described the relationship she held with her animal guide, but he hadn't noticed the intensity of the bond she had with the dog.
For the slightest moment, she was just a girl who loved the animal.
Amon quickly heaved the destructive thought from his mind. She was not just a girl, she was a bender. And she was not just a bender, she was the Avatar.
Above all, she was his enemy.
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Damen shi, was a snow-covered ghost town.
And it also wasn't what she imagined.
It was small, traditional wooden buildings bordered a grid of small, unpaved streets. At least, she thought they were unpaved—it was hard to tell when the snow lightly covered the ground.
There was no sign of life, no indication that the town had ever been inhabited. The footprints Naga's paws made were the only footprints to be seen.
She looked closer, realizing that she must have been in a residential district. On a porch of one house with a red metal roof, hung a stringed net. Korra recognized the talisman—in the Southern Water Tribe they called it a yun li. It was named for the spirit that guarded our world from the evil spirits that aspired to destroy it.
Almost every house had these talismans in one place or another. Some had several.
Korra grimaced. They must have been so afraid.
Emotion swelling in her chest, Korra leaned down to Naga. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this."
She narrowed her eyes as she pushed Naga forward. This journey was no longer just about contacting her past lives, but to investigate what happened to the unfortunate souls that once inhabited Damen Shi.
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Music.
Where was it coming from?
Naga galloped through the streets as Korra listened hard for the sound of saxophones and pianos that whistled in the air. Was someone still here? Did they not know it wasn't safe to be here?
Though it couldn't have been past 4 o'clock, the sky had darkened. The sky was thick with clouds as snow poured from the sky in heaps. The wind billowed, creating static in her ears, but she still could still feel the music.
She felt it more than she heard it.
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"Leave the motorcycles here." Amon slid the kickstand of his two-wheeled machine flush to the ground, propping it up as he slung his leg over the side. Removing his helmet and brushing the snow that collected in the crook of his neck, he observed his small team. Dressed in the their chiblocker uniforms, green goggles strapped to their faces, he smirked slightly.
He extended an arm down an alleyway. "Spread out, keep hidden. Do not approach unless she subdues me.
"Though, I'm certain she will not," he adds smugly, traveling in the opposite direction of his subordinates.
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Korra found the source of the music.
A small warehouse in the western corner of the town stuck out like a sore thumb. It was industrial, not unlike the warehouses in Republic City. This one, however, was smaller. Tin walls extended about twenty feet in the air; no windows, only a large double-door on the side facing the street. The doors were bound by a thick metal chain, slightly rusted and partially frozen by snow that accumulated in its crevices.
The music resonated against the metal; the jazzy music sounded more like a faint echo as she approached. She thought that was strange—the music being quieter as she came closer.
Almost hypnotized, the thought slipped from her mind as fast as it came. Korra slid off Naga's back, examining the chain on the warehouse doors. Narrowing her eyes, she hovered an index finger above the metal.
Focusing, a small spark flickered on the end of her finger, a flame growing slowly as she exhaled. She concentrated the flame, like a blowtorch, and began sever the chain.
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Amon watched from downwind, so that her dog would not catch his scent.
The sun had completely disappeared from the sky, concealed by the thick blackening clouds. In the darkness, he observed her firebending. She was focusing the flame into a thin stream of continuous heat, as a welder would. Disgust licked at his throat—typical that she perverted the art to do something that one could accomplish without bending. As he predicted, someone so young and naïve did not deserve the gifts.
Yet, he couldn't help but stare at the flickering blue flame. Amon had never seen someone produce such a small, concentrated stream of fire.
She may have been young, but she was strong.
She extinguished the flame, and through the darkness he saw a smile spread on her lips with satisfaction. She began to pull open the doors to the warehouse, the hinges shrilling loudly under the sound of the wind.
He would take care of the polar bear dog, and then he would corner the Avatar.
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The doors protested as Korra tugged at the metal handles. Their resistance was more than expected; ducking her head, she noticed that the hinges were rusted. Once a substantial opening was created, she slithered through.
"Stay here Naga," she instructed through the crack, reaching out an arm. Naga whined and licked her fingers, sitting down reluctantly.
Korra withdrew her hand and spun around.
The music had stopped, she realized.
It was very dark, except for the small amount of light glided through the small opening in the door. She summoned a flame in her hand, which helped, but not much.
The warehouse was filled with hefty wooden crates, large enough to encase a Satomobile. Korra approached the box and used her free hand to lift the lid. At first, she didn't see anything spectacular—except for a bunch of rocks. She moved the flame closer to the box, careful to make sure the fire didn't touch the wood and burn the whole place down.
Light flickered of the rocks, and Korra inhaled sharply, eyes widening. With the light illuminating the inside, the flickering fire shone on the precious stones, dancing as white, yellow, and red light refracted onto her face. She scooped her hand inside, cupping a fist full of the stones. Gently rolling them between her fingers, she was hypnotized. Korra had never been materialistic, but a foreign instinct came over her, whispering promises of riches and prosperity.
Greed, a stronger voice whispered harshly in her mind, causing her to drop the stones. Immediately after she released them, she no longer wanted them.
"These must be cursed or something," she muttered to herself, shutting the box sharply and sighing.
Korra was about to investigate the other crates to see if they were filled with stones as well, but started when she heard a yelping outside the warehouse, causing her flame to go out.
"Naga!" Korra called, reeling as she sprinted to the door, slinking through the crack once again. She held out a hand and sparked a flame, frantically looking around—squinting through the blanket of white. "Naga!" she called again, voice cracking as her throat thickened in fear.
"Your pet will be fine, young Avatar." Korra froze, hearing the husky voice from behind her. She didn't have to turn around to know from whose lips the voice came; the same tone and timbre haunted her dreams almost every night. "Though, I cannot say that you bear the same fate."
The threat electrified her, as it was coated with promises of pain and failure.
She had faced Amon before.
This time, however, she was alone. There was no possibility of escape without Naga.
Terror enveloped every inch of her as she realized Amon had her.
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He had her right where he wanted her.
Though her back still faced him, Amon knew she was petrified. The waves of horror rolled off her like a scent; the Avatar's hands were trembling, and it was not from the cold.
He came up slowly behind her, placing a hand on the crook of her neck, the exact place he would need to strike to paralyze her. She flinched at his touch, but she didn't run. The pressure caused her pelt cape to untie and fall from her shoulders to the ground. Her neck was now bare, the light brown skin covered in goose bumps. Without quite thinking, he brushed his thumbs over the bumps, only causing the patch to thicken. The bitter breeze licked his bare hand as he continued this motion.
What had come over him?
This is just a game, stirring the young Avatar until she broke, he thought to himself. It was working.
A corner of his mind, the corner he chose to ignore, was morbidly curious to what her skin felt like.
He couldn't ignore the curiosity. Her skin was quite soft.
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Korra's mouth opened slightly and she felt sick as the rough pads of Amon's fingers brushed her neck. Why couldn't she move? Why couldn't she fight?
Any moment, he'll whip his fingers across her pressure points, and then he will win.
Isn't he already winning?
Korra thought of her nightmare, something she had forbade herself to do when she was awake. What harm could it do, if it were coming true? Paralyzed by her own fear, the mere sensations of his fingers sending her into a state of utter shock.
No screams in her throat. Only tears.
Cold tears, she thought quietly. The cold. The snowflakes hitting her skin.
Warm. Her body needed warmth. Without summoning a flame, her hands filled with subtle fire. The sensation of the flames made every nerve in her body go haywire, and with a sharp inhalation of cold air, she turned around.
She struck his porcelain face with fists full of fire.
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He hadn't predicted her retaliation, but Amon was by no means underprepared.
As she plunged her fiery fists toward his face, he easily bent is knees and dodged the blow. The move was sloppy, but powerful nonetheless. She spun on her heel, sending a blade of orange and white toward him, which he took in strife to the metal plate across his chest.
The Avatar stomped her foot into the ground and struck the air, rippling the earth beneath them. Amon jumped in the air, diving towards the girl. She didn't anticipate his bold move, and let out a scream when he struck her neck. Disabling her, he took two fingers on each hand and began to stab her pressure points. Her limbs went limp, causing her knees to fold beneath her.
She made a choking sound as she looked up at him, face contorted in pain. To be honest, Amon did not revel in fear. Part of him regretted that it was a necessary tactic.
Gazing down at the young Avatar before him, he cocked his head.
"This time, you were not underestimated," he told her, kneeling on one knee and gripping her chin. He stared relentlessly into her widened blue eyes, seeing her terror increase tenfold.
A pleasant moment washed over him as he noted her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue.
Her lips parted slightly, but words did not come out.
Amon felt almost doubtful when he felt her tears dripping down his fingers.
"Please," she finally squeaked, eyes fluttering shut.
He tilted her chin down, and gently cupped her cheek.
"It's not your time," he spoke eloquently, releasing her face and giving a final blow to the top of the Avatar's spine, numbing her body and causing her to tumble forward.
Catching her, Amon threw the girl over his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her legs. It was when the silence came that he realized there was music playing.
Soft, melodic, dark, the sound of a grand piano and a violin filled his ears—harmoniously dancing under the blowing of the wind.
It came from inside the warehouse that the Avatar had inspected. There couldn't be anyone inside—not when the town was so completely abandoned. Amon kept up with the news, and the fact Damen Shi was a ghost town wasn't a secret.
The music made him doubtful. He had to find the music.
Still balancing the Avatar's body on his shoulder pad, he opened the door to the warehouse wider than she had earlier. Striding inside, Amon looked around, surrounded by darkness.
The darkness stayed with him, wrapping around him as he tightened his grip on the Avatar. He inhaled incisively as he realized there was no weight on his shoulders, no Avatar.
He was in the darkness, alone. This he was sure of.
No music, no Avatar.
Nothing.