Writer's Note: This story takes place after book two but before the Day of Black Sun, when Zuko is in the Fire Nation's Capital and Aang is "dead." Bear with me, as I hope anyone reading this has at least a rudimentary knowledge of both universes, Warhammer 40K and Avatar the Last Airbender, as I am not going to go into detail on explaining background, unless necessary.

Chapter One: Isolation

The rising of the sun marked the turning point of the fight, as the firebenders rallied to the challenge of their princess, "Drive them back into the sea!" With that she left the command to the field commander and set off for the palace. The horde of bugs would gain nearly half the upper city each night, only to be driven back in in the morning sun, but this would not last long. The morale was falling within the city, the soldiers already called the night watch the "dead man's watch," without the sun firebending was all but useless. Azula's only comfort came in her belief that she was now an only child. When the emergency had started, she had been given command over the lower city's defenses. She had sent Zuko to the lower city's defenses, to his certain death. Azula knew from the start that the lower city was fodder to gauge the strength of the new adversary, from the rate at which it had fallen they knew they were in for a rough ride. Further instilling this belief was the utter lack of contact from the outside world, more than likely this was the last bastion of Fire Nation defenses, the outside cities had more than likely fallen already. The threat of the day of Black Sun had all but been forgotten due to the greater risk from the horde that was already at their door; actually the invasion was hoped for in light of the fact the invaders would have to fight their way through the massive bugs. It was quite certain the battle wouldn't last through the coming fall, one way or another.

Within the lower city the ungodly screams of victims could be heard far above the shrieks and clamor of the alien creatures. To be captured was worse than death; the aliens bugs had arranged a horrid purpose for those unlucky few who allowed capture rather than death at their own hands, the prisoners were no more than incubators for the wretched spawn that would slowly, painfully eat their way out of the fleshy nest which housed them. It was luck indeed that did not reveal this gruesome fact to the soldiers in the upper city, for now they still held hope for all those lost in the lower city. This was the fate that Zuko was left to, not death, no, worse than death. His forces had been utterly decimated in the first wave of attack, most were taken alive. At first this seemed strange to the prince, who had regrouped with the reinforcements, until the next day when the first victim of those grotesque practices had been recovered. The poor soldier had a mark upon the back of his neck which none thought anything of, it was just a scratch after all, but in a few days time they would know the mark as the mark of death. The destruction of the lower city's defenses only took two days with the guerrilla tactics being decimated in a week. Indeed, Zuko was the last person left in the lower city, for those who had the mark were forfeit.

Night was fast approaching when Zuko awoke; he had to get moving, he could hear the thundering footsteps of the Tyrant as it passed through the midst of the brood. The tyrant was something he had to avoid at all costs, the lesser members of the brood were stupid so his trick of covering himself in the green goo that proceeded from the carcasses of the bugs he killed fooled them into thinking he was one of their own. The more advanced of the brood were not fooled by this, but he discovered they didn't disturb those who had the mark, and so he carved the mark on his own neck using the knife his uncle had given him long ago and a mirror left in the remnants of a house. He could fool all of them, except the Hive Tyrant. He had only once run into it, the towering mass of talons and slime, it had immediately discovered him and he had barely escaped with his life, in fact the thing still had his swords sticking out of its side. How he would have liked to get them back! There was no chance of that though, and he was just eager leave at the moment.

The setting of the sun only served to slow his progress in removing himself from the impending approach of the Tyrant, the rubble of the city turning into invisible blockades in the darkness of night. He had wanted to examine the ruins of the watch tower that stood beyond the Great Gates of Azulan for he hoped to find food and equipment there but the brood was teeming around it when he last looked, and he wagered the Tyrant was moving there. He knew better than to try to sneak in after dark, because although his sight was seriously handicapped by the darkness theirs was not. The Tyrant had but to think it and the entire brood would be upon him, a thought which was not pleasant considering the weakened condition of his firebending during the night. He finally reached the ruins of one of the storefronts that lay near the beach, to his delight inside he found a small amount of food, four pieces of Hippo-cow jerky and two mango-guavas. Even though his stomach ached with pangs of hunger, he managed to keep control and ration what little he had found, eating only a piece of the Hippo-cow jerky. Unfortunately he discovered no weapons of any sort, so he was left with only his knife and his firebending for protection. He had wanted to find a weapon so he could commence taking back the city, as it stood now he was only still alive by the grace that he had only one enemy who could discern him as a threat. He knew he would die of starvation if he couldn't escape the lower city and he realized Azula had sent him to his death when she assigned him the lower cities defenses, but his duty to his people stopped him from just giving up and sending himself to meet his ancestors. He could not, would not leave them to their fate if he had even the slightest chance to help them, no, he had decided he would die, but die taking as many of these unholy bugs with him. He continued on into the night to find some other ruins and, hopefully, a weapon of any kind. He would stay clear of the watch tower for now.

The ruins of what was once the Southern Water Tribe sent tears of anger and pain into Katara's eyes, they had not arrived in time. The horrible creatures from the sky had decimated the feeble defense that was held by only women and children. Katara began to shrink into a catatonic state as she surveyed what had been Gran-Gran's house. There were no survivors. Sokka had already begun to pile the bodies in the center of town, he didn't notice the marks on their necks. Toph was overtaken by the smell of the corpses and had commenced retching into the frozen waters. Momo was making a low moaning sound and Appa was stoically quiet. Aang was saying a prayer for those who had died when Katara got up. She walked over to the entrance to Gran-Gran's house and was about to enter when Sokka blocked her from entering. She was quiet for a moment, then she screamed and fell to the ground. She sat there beating her hands into the ice until Sokka stopped her, by that time her hands were bleeding. Momo screeched and flew into the air as they heard the infernal noise the strange creatures made coming toward them. "Aang! We have to go! Get Toph!" Sokka ordered as he pulled Katara up and led her over to Appa. Aang immediately grabbed Toph by the waist and flew her up to the saddle on Appa's back. Sokka placed Katara on Appa and ran back to the mass of corpses lighting a torch as he went; the torch he threw onto the pile and the viking funeral engulfed the dead. Sokka grabbed Momo then jumped on Appa as Aang said "Yip! Yip!" and they were on their way to find Hakoda or anyone still alive, the thoughts of the Great War having been forgotten due to the rise of this new adversary.