Disclaimer: It is not who I am underneath, but what I do, that defines me.


Chapter 4: The Mask in the Dark


Cabbage Corp United Commercial Complex

Police Cordon, One Block from the Front Doors

Acting Chief-of-Police Mako surveyed the scene. Sporting a dapper, sleek police uniform with only a very nondescript brooch to denote his rank, he nearly melded into the crowd of anxious police officers, if it weren't for the fact that the very same crowd was pressing against him right now, asking for orders.

"Jae Woon, take your team around the back to cover the exits. Ming, you secure the sewer tunnels. Uyaq and Aki, take your teams up top on the South Point Commercial Complex and the Juhua Hotel respectively—get some eyes on the windows and see if we can scope out what's going on in there." Mako's instructions were clear, firm, and purposeful—he knew that the confidence, or lack thereof, of the police chief would always be multiplied manifold amongst the rest of the force. Nodding confidently, his subordinates moved out.

Nothing had stirred in the Cabbage Corp building for the past thirty minutes. No one had entered or left, no message or demand had emerged. A few veteran officers had gotten close enough to the building to attempt to scan it with Metalbending, but their 'sight' ended abruptly beyond the front door.

"We can't use our Metalbending to see inside," one officer grunted in frustration. "I think that Kuvira's soldiers are using their own Metalbending to block our magnetic fields."

"So now the building is a black hole." Mako assessed the situation grimly. If the captors were going through this much trouble to keep the police in the dark, there was no telling what was going on inside the building.

"Keep the perimeter secure. I'm going to radio in the Sixth Armored Division to back us up," Mako ordered finally. "I'm going to broadcast one more message by loudspeaker to the people inside. If there's no response, in ten minutes I'm moving in with a team via the tunnels."

Out of the hundreds of police officers, auxiliary troops, tank operators, and airship pilots, not a single person noticed a lone figure landing nimbly on the roof of the Cabbage Corp building, quietly detaching his harness from the zip-line.


Ten Days Ago

Five Spirit Days from Prince Wu's Entry into the Spirit Wilds

The Temple of the Hollow Mind

Whatever it was, it was massive. The stone walkway stretched for what looked like a mile, and the abyss below swallowed all light, showing only the seamless stone stretching endlessly below. Large stone figurines protruded from the dark stone walls, their stony eyes glaring at the two men striding down the narrow path.

"This place gives me the creeps," Prince Wu said, shuddering. He inched closer to Zaheer, his eyes flitting nervously between the cracked stone under his feet and the chasm to his side.

"The Temple of the Hollow Mind was not built for comfort's sake," Zaheer answered calmly. "An ancient race of spirits built this temple as a meditation aid, to help conquer the Thousand Fears. Fear of heights," he gestured at the yawning gap beneath them, "happens to be one of them."

Zaheer's torch offered the only illumination. Behind them and in front of them, the walkway stretched on into murky darkness, straight and unchanging. The very air whispered ominously, seething with an otherworldly malevolence that somehow seemed centuries old.

"This is the first part of your training." Zaheer's steps echoed in the void.

"Really?" Wu looked at him with askance. "Couldn't we just—practice boxing or do some breathing exercises or something?"

"The body is only an instrument. Physical strength is meaningless without mental fortitude. Before one trains the body, one must train the mind." Zaheer spared Wu a sideways glance. "You will drink of the deepest depths of fear, until you overcome it, until you embrace it as part of you."

"Here." Zaheer pointed forwards.

The walkway ended abruptly, at a small circular platform. Ornate symbols adorned its rim. In the middle was a smaller bronze circle, glistening dimly in the flickering light of the torch.

Prince Wu immediately noticed two things. One, the platform was just big enough for maybe two people to stand on, if they squeezed.

Two, if this was the end of the walkway—that meant that the mile-long stone path was…simply suspended in darkness. Hovering, unaided, unsupported, over a chasm so deep that light itself was swallowed up.

"Stand." Zaheer stepped forward, and planted both feet firmly on the circular plane. He left just enough space for Wu to get on.

Shakily, the prince tiptoed over next to him. For a brief moment, Wu's right foot dangled over eternity. Closing his eyes tightly, he wrapped an arm around Zaheer's waist, clinging on for dear life.

He could almost sense his teacher's contempt, though the bearded monk said not a word.

Wu gathered up enough courage to open his eyes. In the torchlight, he could see the walls to his side, smooth and unblemished. Not a single seam ran across the stone surface to show the marks of masonry—it was as if the entire wall, and possibly the entire temple, was hewn from a single, titanic piece of stone.

He turned to Zaheer, who was looking ahead contemplatively.

"Alright. So now what?" Wu asked, trembling. "We—um—we meditate, right? We just stay here and think about silence or sing songs or something? Right?"

Zaheer turned his head slowly, looking down on his pupil with the slightest hint of a smirk.

"Now?"

Casually, contemptuously, he tossed the torch into the chasm. The light sank into the milky darkness like a glowing stone, fading out of sight. Pure liquid black enveloped the two of them, and Wu's heart dropped like a stone.

"We jump."

Dimly, Wu could feel Zaheer's palm against his back. The pressure from the pads of five, rugged fingers, powered by physical strength far beyond his own. Pushing him forward inexorably, even as his very being screamed at him to stay on his feet.

Then there was emptiness below and above him, and the air whipped around his ears as darkness rushed past him and a scream burst from his lips.


Present Day

Main Hall

Cabbage Corp United Commercial Complex

Kazar fiddled idly with his face mask. Through the window, a glaring beam of light burned down from the searchlights of Republic City's airships, illuminating his viridian uniform and the twin chevrons that denoted his rank as a sergeant in Kuvira's Elite Corps.

A screeching noise howled through the hall—the squealing feedback from a loudspeaker being turned on. Then, a voice, booming through the walls, echoing in the large foyer.

"This is Chief Mako of the Republic City police. We have you surrounded. We are willing to negotiate. We will not attempt to approach the building. Please respond."

The broadcast ended. Kazar sniggered.

To his side, Mai scoffed. "Fools." Her uniform was nearly identical to his, and the heavy fabric of her trench coat outlined very little of her feminine figure. The only difference was the three stripes on her shoulder plate—Lieutenant Mai outranked him.

"Major Tu wants the building secure. Make a sweep of the upper rooms. I'll search the basement." She cocked her head at him. Kazar gave a stiff bow and sauntered away dutifully.

At a leisurely pace, the Earth Empire trooper ascended the wide staircase, passing by a marble bust of Lau Qing-Lan, the deceased founder of Cabbage Corp and father of the current CEO, Lau Gan-Lan. As he made his way to the carpeted corridors of the second floor, the bustle of the police cordon outside faded away to a muted buzz.

The executive floor was usually off-limits to most employees; a place where special guests were entertained and deals were struck. Cabbage Corp may not have had the financial clout of Future Industries, but it could afford to pay for a few creature comforts nonetheless. Dim light issued from the soft electric lamps that hung from the walls, bouncing lightly off the maroon carpets and dark mahogany walls. A potpourri jar sat on a nearby table, issuing a muted, sweet scent that complemented the tasteful décor like fine wine to a sumptuous dinner.

Kazar let himself relax as he removed his face mask, allowing the fresh air to bathe his skin like spring water. The fragrant potpourri wafted upwards like freshly-brewed tea.

The sergeant began whistling a tune as he strode down the corridor, opening the first door and shining a light inside.

Two little tigers, too little tigers,

Running fast, running fast

Finding nothing, he closed the door gently.

One with no eyes, one with no tail

He had just turned away when something made his very blood run cold.

Someone else was whistling along.

How strange, how strange

It was coming from behind him.

The lights all went out.

Kazar's scream was choked off as a hand closed around his throat.


Mai checked her pocket watch, annoyed.

"Kazar hasn't checked back. It's been five minutes." She snapped it shut, clearly irritated.

"The upper floors are massive. Lots of rooms. Give him more time." Sergeant Han glanced over the balustrade at the rows of hostages sitting meekly next to their desks. Not one dared to look him in the eye—a fact that gave him immense satisfaction.

"Where's Major Tu?"

"Downstairs, in the garage with Chao and Takeshi. We're holding the fort up here. And you've got the highest rank, so whatever you say goes—for now."

Mai was about to head off to the washroom when her radio clicked to life, indicating an incoming transmission.

Simultaneously, Han jerked upright as a similar click issued from his radio.

Every officer in the hall looked around in confusion as their radios responded similarly.

"How?" Han looked around, bewildered. "They're all on different frequencies—"

Mai silenced him with a raised finger.

They heard it. From the radio. Heavy breathing, harsh and rasping, as if someone was too close to the microphone. Then a shuddering sound—a sob.

Mai looked at Han as both of them recognized Kazar's voice. The man who sang the anthem of the Great Uniter full blast, off-key; the man whose voice could be heard from all across the mess hall. The man whose swagger and self-confidence irritated and simultaneously inspired each and every comrade he worked with.

Kazar was crying. Weeping in sheer, abject terror.

Through the lull in his sobs, they heard something else.

Whistling.

Two little tigers, two little tigers

Mai reached for the metal blades in her gauntlet, her heart hammering against the tight steel breastplate. "The upper floor."

She bolted for the stairs, barking orders as she took three steps with each stride. "Lu Chen, Baalu, Sanpo! You three secure the hostages here and keep the magnetic barrier up so that the police can't scan this place with their Metalbending! The rest of you—come with me! Han, you're on point with me."

Grimly, the soldiers marched up the stairs. Metal blades and cuffs were unbuckled, prepared for combat. All small talk and joviality were abandoned. Kuvira's best soldiers were on the warpath.

The small squad reached the top of the stairs. Darkness covered the corridors to both ends—the lights were out. The dense coloration of the woodwork absorbed nearly all residual lighting, creating the impression of a dark tunnel leading ominously further into the building.

"Lights on." Using her Metalbending, Mai flicked on the switch of the torch fitted to her shoulder plate. Silently, the metal blades in her gauntlet floated forwards, and with the precision and dexterity of years of training, she guided them subtly with her fingers. As she stepped forward, the narrow torchlight illuminating her path, the blades arraigned themselves in the shape of a fan, pointed menacingly forwards.

Beside her, Han had uncoiled his metal whip. Kept afloat by bending alone, it danced in the air like a live snake, spinning above his outstretched hands in a rapidly unfolding helix.

"Kazar?" Mai ventured forwards. "Kazar, do you copy?"

The blood pounded in her ears as she unleashed a single blade towards the source of the noise, even before it had fully registered. Han's whip squealed as it snapped out, extending a full three feet. Each soldier turned towards the door on the far end of the corridor—the door that had just creaked open.

Mai controlled her breathing. Calm down. Remember your training.

"Keep on your toes. We'll search the rooms one by one."

The team fanned out, sweeping the corridor meticulously. Keeping formation, the ten soldiers moved forward, turning methodically to ensure that no soldier had their backs turned to a doorway—leaving them vulnerable to a surprise attack. Their breaths were noisy, made turbulent by the restrictive face masks.

"Mai. Look." Han pointed, his voice barely above a whisper.

A green shred of cloth, hooked on the hinge of the doorway. A piece of Kazar's uniform.

Mai raised her hand. The group paused, readying themselves.

"Han. Scan the room."

Han nodded. Raising his foot carefully, he stomped the ground.

The magnetic waves radiated forth in concentric circles around, bouncing and eddying as they came into contact with objects around them. Han focused his attention on the room beyond. He needed only two seconds of concentration before his heart leapt to his throat and he took a step backwards.

"Thirty, maybe thirty-five people. Inside that room." He braced himself. The whip shuddered and stretched, reacting to his alarm. Mai's lips bared in a snarl; the other soldiers took their positions.

We covered all entrances. How could the police send people inside?

"Were they moving?" Mai inquired in a whisper.

Han shook his head. "Don't think so. I don't think they know we're here."

They're interrogating Kazar. He's probably being kept in the center of the room.

"On my command, we go in. Take them all out." Mai gestured quickly to the soldiers behind her, who nodded grimly. "Start with those on the fringes of the room. Kazar will probably be in the middle."

A few tense seconds ticked by. Mai's blades quivered in the air, picking up the vibrations from Han's whip which remained airborne like the tail of a scorpion. Behind them, more blades and discs floated forth from their sockets, in preparation of the fight to come.

"Now!"

Mai burst in first. The darkness was stifling, but her senses had kicked in completely. Her Metalbending highlighted the figures nearest to her, reacting like the sonar of a wolf-bat. Straight away she unleashed a flurry of blades onto the enemies to her front, her body whirling in the air like a dancer. Her arms swung in a perfect arc as the blades disengaged from their downed targets and spun back to her gauntlet, ready to be shot forth again. She ducked as Han's whip lashed out and snapped against three more targets to her left, her body responding with the confidence of one who knew exactly where each of her teammates was going to be in a fight.

Wait.

Something wasn't right.

"Disengage! Everyone, stop!" Mai barked. Kazar's whip hung indecisively in the air, before obediently snaking back to its owner. The blades and discs floated quietly back to their users.

Mai walked over to one of the downed figures. Stiff, unmoving. She prodded it with her foot—and it connected with hard plastic.

Mai cursed. "Mannequins."

Han looked around the room. "Dozens of them. Dressed up." In the unsteady light of his torch, he picked up a few models dressed in period costume, and others displaying the modern fashion of present-day Republic City. "I thought Cabbage Corp was an auto company. Why are fashion items on display?"

Mai shrugged. "I don't know. I don't care. This was obviously a distraction. We're wasting time here. Let's move out!" She waved towards the operatives behind her.

"Wait." Han stopped her, then pointed towards the middle of the room. In the darkness, a figure was squirming.

"Kazar."

Mai immediately pushed past the rows of silent, unmoving mannequins to reach the silhouette. She got close enough to see that Kazar was bound and gagged, his eyes covered with a blindfold, his entire body strapped between two mannequins with metal bands from his own uniform.

She could hear Han swear under his breath.

Mai reached forward, and with one quick motion, removed Kazar's gag. Gasping for air, she saw the rise of his chest as he gathered up breath for a scream.

"Kazar, Kazar! It's me, Mai. Calm down. We have you." She gripped his shoulder tightly.

Kazar sputtered something unintelligible. His lips quivered as a small line of drool rolled down the side of his mouth.

"Kazar, I need you to focus. Who did this to you?"

The young Earth Empire soldier shook his head, shaking like a leaf in the wind against his restraints.

"He's h—here. He's here. He—"

Mai gripped his shoulder tighter and shook him roughly. "Talk sense. Who's here?"

Kazar stopped suddenly, his mouth agape. Fear had driven reason completely from his mind.

For at that exact moment, the door to the room slammed shut.

Han yelped, jumping up a clear foot. "Get that door open!" He fiddled with his torchlight. The beam flickered, then died. He cursed. "Must have been the magnetic energy from our Earthbending. Our flashlights are malfunctioning!"

"Sir!" One of the troopers gasped, straining against the door. "We can't get it open! The door must have an electronic lock!"

"Blow it open!" Han barked.

"We're—we're trying! I think this door is made of pure titanium, it's unbendable. This must be a vault of some kind!"

Mai's heart began to pound as her own flashlight began to fail. She clicked it repetitively, desperately trying to get it to work. Silently, she cursed the enthusiasm of her Earthbending. This was planned. We're going to fight in the dark.

Then Kazar spoke. Softly, spitting those few words in a breathless wheeze.

"It's a trap."

Mai's flashlight died. The room plunged into darkness.


Nothing but breathing could be heard at first. Breathing, and the nervous footsteps of the soldiers nearest the door.

Then Mai began issuing orders.

"Alright, everyone, combat positions! Soldiers to the flank, use your Metalbending to scan the room at two second intervals! Han, see if you can find any fissure lines in the walls to use your bending on. Tuya, come here and help get Kazar out of this mess." She tried to sound more confident than she actually was. Things were going south really fast. Major Tu was still in the garage. We cannot fail. We cannot afford to lose time—or soldiers.

Rhythmically, her subordinates stomped on the ground, pounding away with precision. Dimly, she felt the magnetic waves vibrate across her feet. It was now the only way for them to navigate their surroundings. They had walked into a perfect trap—lured in by their own enthusiasm and haste.

With palms spread open, Han swept his arms across the room, his fingers trembling as he tested his bending against the walls. "No luck. The walls are made completely of pure metal," he hissed. "This vault must have been made to keep Metalbenders out."

Or to keep them in. Mai didn't voice her thoughts.

Then—

"Hey, hey, boss?" The soldier's voice quavered, and Mai heard him step closer to her. "I don't know if it might just be my Metalbending getting rusty—"

"Spit it out, soldier," she spat, irritated.

"—I think one of the mannequins, over there towards the right—I think it just moved."

Mai could almost feel, in spite of the darkness, every head spin towards the right of the room.

"Garbage," said Han, but even he was starting to sound uncertain.

Nothing stirred. Nobody dared breathe. Then one other soldier stomped on the floor again—

"There! Over to the left—another just moved!" he hissed.

All heads spun left. Mai exhaled slowly, her blades singing in the air as they rearranged themselves.

"I've had enough of this." Stepping forward, Han threw his right arm forward as his left arm drew down to his hip, his hips bending to accommodate the flow of energy. As if in reply, his whip shot out. Spinning in a helix across the room, it snapped against something hard. Han grunted as he flicked his wrists. The whip slashed in a spiral; in the near-dark, the shadow of a head and bits of a torso were thrown violently up in the air like morsels from the teeth of a beast.

"Han, enough! Save your energy until we know what's going on!" Mai snapped. Han growled, and recalled the whip. The broken pieces of the mannequin clattered to the floor, releasing a cloud of fine dust from the shredded plastic.

Mai stomped the ground, feeling the reflections of the magnetic wave return to her feet as naturally as sight itself. Nothing was moving. At least, not yet.

Wait.

"Han. Ten of us came into this room, right? Not counting Kazar?"

"Yeah."

Mai's blood froze. She sent out another wave. It showed her the same thing.

"So—why do I only sense nine of us?"

The silence hung in the air like the cold breath of a ghost. Han didn't reply. Mai could feel each soldier fidget, could sense the vibrations from their nervous feet scraping against the floor.

Then, from her far left, she heard—oof. A soft gasp of breath, suddenly cut short.

Mai stomped again. The wave radiated forward, then returned to her foot. The revelation sent panic to her heart for real this time.

"Eight of us left."

Han drew closer to her, his shoulder touching hers. Mai felt the other soldiers pull inwards, forming a defensive circle.

"Where—where's Tuya?" One whispered. "He's gone. He was just here."

"I don't like this."

"Something is picking us off."

Han flexed his fingers, and his whip circled the small group like a moving, lethal barrier.

"I don't understand," he hissed.

To his right, one soldier hammered frantically on his shoulder torch. "Come on, come on." He pounded on the plate, blindly and desperately. "Come on!" The torch buzzed once, sending out a blip of light.

"Knock it off!" His partner whispered. With their eyes already adjusted to the near dark, even if he were to somehow get the torch to work, the glaring light would blind and disorient them, not help them to see better.

The soldier ignored him. Bang. Bang. The metal gauntlet hit the torch relentlessly. The little bulb sparked to life once, then—

"Yes!"

A beam of light blazed forth. The trooper yelped with relief, the beam veering from side to side as he turned from side to side, expecting praise from his partners. Muttered curses came from either side as his compatriots tried to shield their eyes.

"I got it to work! Now we can see—"

As he stretched his back, the beam swung upwards to the ceiling.

The small group noticed nothing at first. They were fixated on the space immediately in front of them, all on their guard, determined not to break the defensive formation. It was a few seconds before one soldier realized that his friend still had the torch beam pointed at the ceiling.

"Rihan, what are you doing—"

The sentence was cut short as the trooper saw Rihan's eyes, frozen in terror, fixed on the ceiling. And then, slowly, his gaze drifted upwards, to the black shape hanging from above them, and the terrifying visage of the thing as it descended like a nightmare—

"Aaaaargh!"

The beam of light died.

In the darkness, the wild flash of the failing flashlight was the last thing five Earth Empire officers saw before unconsciousness claimed them.

Mai spun around. She could feel the movement in the air and through the ground—wild, frantic flailing, bodies turning and falling in confusion. Then suddenly, a flash of blue, sparking like lightning.

She raised her blades uselessly. No point. I can't use them. In the dark, and with friendlies to her left and right, she would almost certainly hit one of her own.

Mai did the only thing that made sense. She recalled the blades to her gauntlet. As her arm drew back, the little wings of metal assembled themselves into twin blades, lining her arm.

"Han! To your front!" She called out. Then Mai launched herself into the fray.

She had nothing but her Earthbending to guide her. Through the erratic pulses of her magnetic sense, she could see three of her soldiers fall limply to the ground. In the dark, a thin strip of blue lightning blazed in an arc before disappearing. Firebender? She thought desperately. Tracking its movement, she threw a powerful punch where she thought the Firebender's body would be.

It connected painfully with the chest of an Earth Empire officer, who fell to the ground limply.

Mai cursed, sweating. Focus, focus. She was a professional. Not an amateur. How did I miss? She hit exactly where the attacker's chest would be! Nothing could move that fast, not even a Firebender skilled enough to bend lightning.

Unless—

Unless it's not a Firebender we're dealing with.

As she stepped back, the magnetic pulse returned to her foot, revealing how many of her soldiers were still standing. Now the panic was a voice, screaming in her head like a pig-chicken: Four left! Four left!

Mai saw it, moving too fast for her to react. Two identical arcs of blue energy, spiraling downwards across the air from in front of her.

"Oomph!" She saw two bodies cackle with energy, seizing up like dolls snatched up by their strings. Then Mai watched, horrified, as two of the remaining four soldiers dropped to the floor.

Han bellowed: "Long live the Great Uniter!"

The whip shot forth from his arm, singing as it flew through the air. His right fist closed over its handle as his left hand directed its path, zipping the thin metal wire in a deadly arc across the room.

Han felt it connect.

Like the tail of a scorpion, the wire bit into its target, wrapping around it. Han felt the whip quiver. Instantly, the vibrations told him what he needed to know—he hadn't hit a mannequin. His whip had snagged a moving target.

"Got you!"

Han grinned triumphantly, his hand still closed around the whip, preparing for the coup de grace where he would pull the target off-balance and reel him in like a helpless fish.

Han was still smiling when he spotted a new blaze of lightning, burning in the air in the shape of a human hand.

It touched the wire.

The blue energy zapped up the whip like wildfire, and slammed into Han's body with the force of five hundred units of electrical current.

His body seized up and his eyes rolled back in his head. Mai watched in horror as one of the best soldiers she knew collapsed to the ground senseless.

The room was quiet again. With Han down, she was alone.

Mai turned around in a slow circle, her legs cutting a wide arc, her arms facing in opposite directions, her fists clenched and ready to unleash her arsenal of blades.

She breathed harshly. I am not going down this way.

"You're not taking me so easily!" she shouted into the dark. Her voice bounced off the walls back at her, hollow and mocking.

"You think you scare me?" More out of bravado than anything, she fired off two blades from her gauntlet. They zipped through the air like swallows, cutting a wide circuit around her before returning to her gloves. Maybe if I keep this up, I can stop—whatever it is—from getting to me. I can wear it down, catch it unawares.

"I am a servant of the Great Uniter!" Mai declared. "My heart is resolute, and my will is iron! I live in Kuvira's service and her service alone!"

She spat into the darkness. "You do not frighten me!"

Mai inhaled. She was out of breath. The rush of bravery and fervor was comforting, and she felt slightly more in control. I am a professional. I am Major Tu's second-in-command.

Mai turned her head slightly, surveying the room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness just in time to see the blank, white mask looming in the darkness, lunging out of the black, coming so close so fast that the empty eyeholes had already filled her vision.

Mai shrieked her lungs out as her courage failed her.


"To conquer fear, you must become fear. You must bask in the fear of other men. And men fear most what they cannot see." –Ra's Al-Ghul, Batman Begins

PS. Mai's first encounter with the Masked...Thing was inspired by the Marionette/Puppet in the horror game Five Nights at Freddy's 2. I especially took cues from its musical leitmotif (the whistled tune through Kazar's radio), its lunging attack, and its piss-scary white blank mask.