It's incredible how one moment can change so many lifetimes. The whole group, the Gaang, as they called themselves, all found themselves reminiscing to that one fraction of time that brought them all together. Well, most of them were. Toph was grumbling about the "gross sentimental bullshit" that her friends always put her through. But they were all content, enjoying the moment while sipping on some tea in their favorite corner café.

The morning started out just like any other would for Aang. He woke up to the sound of construction on the outside of his dorm room. Groaning, he pulled his head out from under his sheets and began the grueling process of dragging his body out of bed.

Normally, Aang was a morning person, but not after what had happened the previous day. Right now, he just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep until his dreams became his new reality. Until yesterday, Aang had been a normal, if very intelligent, college sophomore. He had no idea what he wanted to do in life, but he really was never too worried about it.

Sadly though, the key words there were "until yesterday".

The day before, a group of strange men had stopped him in the street, and escorted him to a blacked out SUV parked nearby. Nearly 5 hours later, the bright sun of New York City nearly blinded him as he was led (harshly) to a complex of towers that he vaguely recognized from somewhere. After a long elevator ride, a familiar face greeted him.

"Can you all please stop with the prisoner treatment? He's not in any trouble. At least, not with us." The man then turned around and greeted the very confused teenager standing before him.

"Hello Aang. I'm sure you have a ton of questions, so I'm going to let you ask away."

Aang gulped.

"Um… Are you, uh, the President?"

"Yes, I am. You can call me Mr. Arnook, though. There is no need for formalities here."

Aang nodded and decided to process that later. After all, he had just experienced the plot from so many of the movies that he had watched. Most of them had bad endings for their protagonists, too.

"Where am I?"

Arnook walked over to the window and held out his hand, as if to present something to his guest.

"You are in the Freedom Tower, on the former site of the World Trade Center. To be more precise, though, you are in the headquarters of an organization known as the Logistical Organization of the Triad of Unified States. LOTUS, for short." The man smiled, inwardly chuckling at the look of astonishment on the boy's face. "It's a secret military alliance and organization formed of the leaders of the United States, Canada, and Great Britain. It mostly focuses on the gathering of intelligence and information from imaginative and creative sources."

Again, Aang decided that he would wrap his head around that one later. This really was like so many of those brainless movies he often criticized.

"Why am I here?"

"Ah, see, that's the important question. You are here because we need you. I don't want to go into details, but we believe that a very powerful enemy is plotting something, and a lot of people are going to be in a lot of danger. You, the Avatar, need to be ready to help in any way you can."

"What's an Avatar?"

"Back in ancient times, before technology had advanced far beyond starting fires and carving wheels, it was common practice for people to learn to bend the elements…"

"Oh, like those monks do with the fire in China?"

"Yes, but on a much bigger scale. We estimate that about half of the world's population could bend an element back then. Bending was the tool of the world. It was used for everything, from creating homes to fighting wars. But, as technology advanced, bending became unnecessary and irrelevant. It was very exhausting to master an element and use it." The man paused for a second, as if he was expecting a question, but continued after a moment.

"Now, a normal person could only bend one element, or even none at all. But there was always one Avatar. The Avatar could bend all four elements, and could call from the power and knowledge of his or hers previous incarnations. His job was to maintain balance in the world. The last known Avatar died sometime in the twelfth century. It hasn't been worth finding and training the new incarnations until now."

"Wait, you mean I can shoot fire from my fists?"

"Among other things, yes. But the power comes with responsibility. It's your job to bring balance to a very unbalanced world, and it will not be an easy road."

Aang's face began to whiten.

"Why now? Why do you need this Avatar now?"

"There are four bendable elements, and they come from where your ancestors were born. Native Americans, they were the Airbenders. If our calculations are correct, that is your native element. Europeans were Waterbenders. Africans were Earthbenders, and Asians were firebenders. For the past few years, we have heard rumors of a troubling alliance between China, Japan, the Koreas, and the eastern part of Russia. We think that they are going to attack us."

"Um, I'm still not getting how I fit into this."

"A few months ago, we learned that nearly every able bodied person in the area was drafted into the military and forced to begin training in the art of firebending. We don't know exactly what is going to happen, but if bending is going to have something to do with it, then it's a good idea to get the Avatar involved. You need to begin your training immediately."

Aang took a deep breath.

"I'm not some soldier! Hell, I'm a pacifist! I don't know how to fight, or lead, or prevent some war. You've got the wrong guy, Mr. President."

Arnook put a stern look on his face.

"No. We don't. You have one day to go home and settle your obligations. Then you will come with us."

With that, the prisoner treatment seemingly resumed. The two guards picked Aang up by his arms and began harshly leading him out the door.

"By the way, Aang, you are not to tell anybody that you're the Avatar. It's a danger to you and the poor soul you decide to tell."

Aang spent the entire trip home talking to various old guys in a skype conference. They all seemed to like hearing themselves talk, and they kept repeating the same things. Aang, it's on you now. Aang, you have to do this. Aang, this is your responsibility.

The SUV dropped him off right outside of his dorm. He silently opened the door to the building, found his room, jammed his face into his pillow, and screamed. He was not some incredible war hero. He was a kid, a parentless kid, who had no idea what he wanted to do in life. Well, he thought sarcastically, at least he could check this off the list. For the first time since the news of his parents death reached him, Aang cried. He felt broken. His peaceful little corner of the world was about to disappear.

After an unknown amount of time passed, he tried to pull himself together. Aang wasn't the kind of person who got angry like that. He thought back to rare occasion when his dad used to get angry. There would be yelling and screaming, a few minutes would pass, and then you would hear a guitar strumming through the walls. He always used to say that music was a window to the soul. Aang looked up to his father's old guitar, a dusty relic, hanging on the wall, and realized what he had to do.

He wasn't made for this, nobody was going to force a life onto him. Aang packed up his stuff and took once last look into his room. He knew that he wouldn't be going back there anytime soon. Finally, he threw his dad's guitar into its old case, hopped onto his longboard, and left his entire life behind.

After a depressingly long time, Aang realized that he wasn't going to get too far on a longboard. He realized that he was nearing Central Park, and figured he would join the hobos and sleep there for the night. Then he could scrounge for some money and find a bus ticket the next day. He pedaled his way into the depths of the park, found a nice, cuddly looking bush, and began unpacking some basic supplies. It was too early to fall asleep, so he took out the guitar and began picking the strings. Eventually, he began strumming, and eventually, his racing mind began putting words to the sad music that he was subconsciously playing.

"Sokka! Come on! It's our last day in New York! We have to go see Central Park!."

Sokka looked at his little sister and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You know what? Fine. If you're so set on going to a dirty park and watching the hobos sleep, then fine. Let's go find the car, sit in an hour of traffic, and go to this stupid thing."

Katara couldn't help but smile. This was a rare victory for her, as it was tough to get her older brother to do much of anything in her favor.

True to his word, they found their car, drove for a while, and arrived at the park. Even Sokka was surprised at what he saw.

"But… we're in the middle of… how is it so big and green?"

Katara gave him a told-ya-so look and began walking off, looking forward to exploring this strange oasis in the concrete. Sokka saw his sister roaming around, sighed, and followed her.

After a few minutes, Katara began to hear the faint, but sweet, sounds of a guitar playing. She followed the music to a small cluster of bushes and trees. Not wanting to interrupt the song, she sat down and listened.

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.
Now it looks as though they're here to stay.
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be.
There's a shadow hanging over me.
Oh, yesterday came suddenly.

Why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say.
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday.

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play.
Now I need a place to hide away.
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say.
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday.

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play.
Now I need a place to hide away.
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

As the song came to an end, she decided to find the source of this depressing, melancholy tune. She thought back to the first time she had heard the song, the day of her mother's funeral. He dad's friend, Bato, had played the guitar for her very-unmusical dad, who had seemed to pour his entire soul into the song. She didn't remember a single dry eye in the cemetery, and even now, she felt herself tear up.

"Um, are you alright?"

Katara looked up from her feet. She had completely forgotten why she was roaming around in the brush.

She saw a lanky kid, about her age, standing in front of her, with a guitar hanging from his shoulder. He was about a head taller than her, and had somewhat long, black hair poking out from a backwards baseball hat. Katara looked at the guy with a blank stare.

"Look, I, uh, don't want to be creepy, but are you sure you're OK?" Aang was a little confused to find a crying girl combing her way through his cozy campsite for the night. Still though, he wasn't complaining. The girl seemed to be his age, and had long, flowing brown hair framing her red eyes and puffed cheeks. When she wasn't crying, she was probably beautiful. Hell, even now…

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I was just looking for whoever was playing that song. It brought back some, uh, pretty rough memories. Was it you?"

Aang rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I didn't think it was that loud. Sorry to bother you."

Katara shook herself out of the funk she was in and spoke up.

"No, it was no problem. Actually, it was amazing! Where did you learn to play like that?"

"My dad used to teach me before…" Aang hesitated. "Anyway, I'm Aang."

She smiled.

"I'm Katara. It's nice to meet you, Aang." She paused. "What were you doing out here?"

"I, uh, it's a long story."

"Well, I'd love to hear it, but can we get out of here first? I'm sure my brother is spazzing out right now."

Aang chuckled, his first smile since his fun trip to DC began.

"Sounds like a plan"

The pair emerged from the wooded area to see a fuming, ponytailed guy rushing over.

"Katara! What were you doing?!"

As Katara began to reply, a loud roar filled the park.

Aang muttered something, realized nobody heard him, and spoke up.

"What is that?"

The siblings shrugged, and began looking around.

Unfortunately, Aang found out what the sound was.

He saw a large jet flying directly above them, and he saw a (seemingly) small object falling from it. For a split second, he wondered what it was, but then it clicked. As if confirming his suspicions, he noticed a red flame painted on the bottom of each wing.

There was no time for a warning. He sprinted over to the pair of siblings, tackling them to the ground and doing his best to cover them. At first, nothing happened, but then the world turned white and Aang could no longer feel his body. He tried to move, and suddenly, there was nothingness.

A seemingly infinite amount of time passed, and Katara slowly came to.

The first thing she noticed was the weight on her. She couldn't quite force her eyes open yet, but she crawled out from whatever was on top of her. She collapsed back onto the ground, the effort too much for her, and passed out again.

After another infinite chunk of time, she awoke again. This time, she opened her eyes and looked around. The world was burning. Not only were trees on fire, but so was the pavement next to her. Even the grass was ablaze. She looked over to where she had previously been unconscious, and saw two burnt bodies. Already crying, she ran over to them. Fearing the worst, she reached down and checked their pulses.

While she was searching for their pulses, her mind was racing. They had jumped on me to protect me. Sokka. And Aang. I just met him, he tried to sacrifice himself for me already!

With a huge sigh of relief, she found her brothers pulse. He was alive! She violently shook his shoulders, trying to wake him up. As he began to stir, she turned her attention to the young man who had recognized what was happening first. Who had tried to protect the random stranger he had just met. His pulse was there, but it was barely existent. His breathing was inconsistent and labored. His body was severely burnt, taking the brunt of the blast, blocking Sokka and Katara.

"Wha… What happened?"

Katara looked back to see her brother sitting up. She practically dove over and hugged him.

"Some kind of bomb went off." She looked down at Aang. "He protected us."

Sokka stood up, took in his surroundings, and spoke.

"It was a Nuke. Just look at this, everything is on fire. We need to get out of here, now, before the radiation sets in too much."

Katara was about to argue that they needed to somehow bring Aang with them, get him to safety, but Sokka beat her to it. He took off his charred jacket and shirt, tied them together, and placed them on the ground.

"Here, help me roll him onto this. If we just carry him, his skin might peel off."

At first, Katara thought her brother had cracked a disgusting joke, but she realized that he was speaking the truth. She helped roll the kid onto the pseudo-stretcher and lifted her end. Then, the siblings, people of another land, began their walk through the remains of New York City.

2 YEARS LATER

Aang awoke in an igloo. How did he get to an igloo? He tried to look around, but his neck was unbelievably stiff. In fact, something felt off with his whole entire body. He tried to sit up, but as he did so, a stabbing pain shot through his back, and he collapsed back onto the bed with a loud thunk.

Aang admitted defeat and decided to just lay there. Maybe somebody else would show up and explain what exactly was going on.

Surely enough, Katara walked in a moment later.

"YOU'RE AWAKE! GUYS, HE'S AWAKE!"

"What happened? Where am I?"

Katara could hardly contain her smile.

"Just hold on a moment. Let the others get here first."

After a minute or two, Sokka and an old woman filed into the room.

Sokka spoke first.

"Alright, this is going to be a lot to take in, but a whole lot has changed in the two years you've been out."

"WAIT, I'VE BEEN OUT FOR TWO YEARS!"

"STOP INTERUPTING ME, AA…"

The old woman ironically interrupted Sokka.

"Maybe I should do the explaining, Sokka. Two years ago, the world was attacked by an alliance called the Fire Nation. They dropped nuclear bombs on most of the big population centers in non-member countries, and sent even more bombs into the atmosphere. The nukes launched into the atmosphere created a, what was it called, Sokka?"

"An EMP chain. Basically, electrionics don't work anymore. Guns, recent cars, phones, nothing. Electricity doesn't exist for more than a couple seconds at a time anymore."

"Thanks. Well, that happened, and the remaining world fell into chaos. The Fire Nation invaded Europe and America, using their refined firebending abilities to easily quash their enemies. We're in Canada, one of the only remaining places that isn't under Fire Nation control. Other than us, I think it's down to South America and Africa. That being said, we haven't had contact with the outside world since their father left, so we honestly don't know if they still stand."

A look of horror washed over Aang's face.

Katara spoke up next.

"The world may be in ruins, but we're alive, thanks to you. After the bomb dropped in New York, we hopped in an old pick up we found and drove up to home in Quebec to meet up with our dad and gran gran. Then we drove out here to avoid all of the chaos in the cities. We're in the Northwest Territories right now. Our dad joined up with one of the roving militias that protect the area, and we're just doing our best to survive. But the only reason we have this chance is you, Aang. Your injuries were incredible, and the radiation poisoning kept you out for a long time, but even you made it through."

Aang sat there for a moment, taking it all in. Suddenly, he sat up, and began to get out of bed.

Sokka quickly sprinted over and lightly pushed him back into bed.

"Nope, you're not ready for that yet. Besides, we have no idea who you are, or if we can trust you."

Katara looked like she was going to explode.

"WHAT? He saved our lives. How can you not TRUST him?"

Gran gran stepped in, saying that Sokka did indeed have a point. She then asked Aang, "So, who are you, young man?"

"Well, um, I'm Aang Carmichael. I go to, err, went to Columbia, and I'm..." he paused for a moment, "21 years old now, I think. I guess that means I drink legally now, huh?"

The conversation went on, with Sokka basically interrogating Aang about his past. After a while, Sokka grunted, content with his new knowledge of Aang, and left the igloo. After a moment, he poked his head back in.

"Oh, by the way, do you know if you're a bender? That could be useful around here."

Aang jolted up and stuttered a bit. Finally, he answered.

"Uh, no, I don't think so."

Sokka gave him a strange look, then walked out the door, muttering about how his sister was so lucky to slosh around her magic water.

(A/N) So there it is! Brand new series, and yes, I know that I haven't finished any of my previous ones. I just didn't like the direction they were going in. I still might continue them, but they're going to need some major reworking. So, for now, I'm trying this out. This chapter had a ton of clunky exposition, and far too much dialog, so hopefully at least some of you made it this far. Hope you enjoyed, and please, give me some feedback. I certainly need it.