"Isn't it obvious? I'm about to celebrate becoming an only child!"
Azula's orders were simple. Zuko was an impurity in their line, some strange anomaly born of someone other than her father. He needed to be removed, their dynasty cleansed. She had seen the futures of this encounter laid out, and nothing pointed to anywhere near exoneration. Even if she had failed (and that had been a very strong possibility - about half the paths predicted his survival), he would still have been hunted down by everyone in their family.
He didn't stand a chance.
She walked across the battlefield. Five young figures were strewn through the dust, coughing or crying or just raggedly breathing. Zuko was one of those just breathing, clinging to life with bloody, adrenaline-fueled hands. The princess stopped. It was finally going to happen. Their line would be cleansed, and they could all forget that Zuko ever happened.
He stirred, looking up. She stood above him, smiling cruelly. "Any last words, brother?"
Something wavered into existence on his forehead. An eye, glowing ever-so-faintly.
Oh, crap.
"Take us home," he breathed.
A brilliant flash, and all was dark.