There will be a side story that will deal with the MPREG as this one will not. I apologize for the wait as classes have once again started.
I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender.
Forge
Judgment
Within the light consuming darkness slithered a slippery figure, a lithe figure dressed head-to-toe in black fabrics with only piercing demon eyes as a clue to their true identity. Through the streets the prowler crawls unhindered, further and further through the quiet streets until they reach the great metal walls-walls that divide the safe haven from the ravenous horrors meandering beyond. Composing their figure, the person removes a cotton-spandex glove from their hand and presses their palm flat against the bulky surface of the wall, closing their molten eyes, their extremity begins to glow a reddish hue and it's not too long that the metal beneath their palm melts. Hot metal gobs dribble over skin and metal surface alike-the air begins to reek of burning flesh and cloth. The stranger only continues.
Once there is a considerable hole in the wall-that is not too small yet not too large-and a weakening of the supporting sheets that the creeper stops and procures a gleaming knife from the folds of their clothes. Pressing the cool edge of the knife to their already injured palm, they flick their wrist causing beads of blood to spring forth. Flexing their cut hand, the person watches as blood slowly pools in their palm. Once there is a sufficient amount, they smear the liquid along the rim of the breach, painting the surrounding area as well. Pulling their mask down, a quick tongue darts out to lap at the blood while the hand holding the knife raps against the metal wall. It takes only a minute for a garbled reply.
X
"Well?"
"Nothing." Zuko laments as Jet takes a spot beside him, "Look babe-,"
"Don't CALL me that."
"Yeah, yeah. Listen-," Jet fishes out a cigarette from his pocket, "-even if you DO find someone who knows what happened to that stupid helmet of yours, I'm pretty sure its long gone by now. Fuck, with that little stunt you pulled are you sure the Bureau even WANTS you back?" he clicks his lighter and the flame springs to life, the fire greedily licking the tip until it catches. Snuffing the flame, he stores his lighter away, "You've been gone for THREE days. Now, I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure you broke a few regulations with that one."
Zuko stares at the teen inhaling the toxic fumes, "They will. It's where I belong."
Stealing a glance, Jet studies Zuko's profile, "Are you sure THEY feel the same?"
Zuko, who had been chewing on the inside of his lip, pauses, "What do you mean?"
"Well," he releases a puff of smoke, "While you were out cold, I went about my business and there was no one, and I mean NO ONE talking about a missing Sentry or anything remotely Bureau related. And I should know; people in Avatar like to talk." the smoker watches his companion shift through different expressions before pushing off the wall, throwing his cigarette to the ground he follows suit, "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the Bureau don't give a shit about you-or anyone else for that matter."
"I-," the Sentry stops in the middle of the bustling street, "They aren't like that. And because no one is talking doesn't mean anything. They're probably just-keeping it quiet, or-,"
"Or they really don't care."
"They care!" the stressed teen shouts, successfully capturing the attention of some passer-bys, "They have to. They took me in when I had nowhere else to go! They gave me shelter, food, clothes-I was their best Sentry. I was their first successful SHIFTER. I-they cared for me!"
The earthen male is, for a lack of better wording, shocked upon hearing the other's warring outburst, he watches with an expert eye and an amateur heart-the boy's shoulders are slumped inward, head bowed, he's unmoving; random strangers cast him curious, and sometimes worried, glances. It comes a second later, the Sentry is exhibiting the feeling of loss.
"Look Zuko," Jet extends a hand but lets it fall a second later, "I know you feel lost b-,"
"Lost?" Zuko repeats caustically, "LOST?" he wheels to face a shell-shocked Jet, eyes livid and far too bright, "I'm not LOST. I know EXACTLY where I am and what I LIVE for! What I don't know is what YOU want or what YOU'RE doing here!"
"Don't you DARE turn this on me!" Jet hisses with just as much acidity, a crowd begins to form, "Not when you don't even know who YOU are-!"
BOOM-!
Everyone and everything falls silent, birds scatter and take to the skies, its eerie as all eyes turn to the billowing cloud in the distance, an excruciatingly long second later, the discordant tolling of the heavy iron church bells begin clanging their alarm:
"Guys." Jet gasps, he grabs Zuko's wrist and tugs him in the direction of his shared home, "We gotta get Bee and Long!"
The raven-haired teenager in all his muddled thoughts can only follow obediently, his intensely amber eyes trained on the dust cloud as it begins to dissipate, among the panicked cacophony of cries and shouts, he can distinctly hear an odd pulsating drone as well as quick, short lived "pops".
Blinking once, he's in the hall of some grand mansion decorated in shades of fine crimson and rich gold, his world spins and everything blurs, he can see a blurred figure of what appears to be a female following him along with what appears to be one of the units from the Bureau. When the unit touches the girl, they disappear. Everything in the house distorts and starts to lift.
"What-wait!"
The glass in the never ending hall implodes and before he knows it, he's freefalling, twisting his body around, he sees the ground miles and miles away, and although he doesn't appear to be getting closer, he still panics. Spinning back, he begins looking for some form of salvation, something to grab a hold of such as a window sill or maybe a tree branch, but there is nothing, no extravagant building, no landscape, just an endless sky. Horrified, he turns to face the earth only to find that he is seconds away, he shuts his eyes-in the back of his mind he thinks it's impossible to be so close when he'd originally been so far away-he hits the ground.
Tumbling to his hands and knees, his body lurches forward violently as he retches, his stomach vainly trying to scrounge up SOMETHING-coughing and hacking, he spots muddied twin boots in his teary vision, he FEELS hands on his shoulders.
"Hey," a voice soothes, its equal parts worried and hurried, "You alright?"
"G'offa'me," Zuko slurs, shoving at the hands, "'m fine."
This is apparently the wrong thing to say for the owner of the voice and boots let out an annoyed sound, rough hands drag him to his feet, "We don't have TIME for this! We gotta find-!"
"JET!"
Said man turns on his heels in time to see both Smellerbee and Longshot running towards them through the thick of the frenzied crowd, he pulls the disoriented male after him.
"Guys, you're okay!"
"Yeah," Smellerbee is breathless, no doubt having had to run from the house to here, "We heard the bells, is-have you seen any of them?"
"No," Jet shakes his head, "Not yet."
"They must still be at the breach." Longshot says evenly, the bizarreness of hearing the silent man talk snaps Zuko out of his stupor, "This means we have enough time to get to the shelter without incident."
"Right." Jet nods, "Let's go."
They begin running. Running faster than those around them, they're fluid in their movements, trained, and Zuko has to wonder how the group came to be-he feels something overwhelming slowly drawing closer-it calls to him, he NEEDS to snuff it out. The unseen call is short lived once he sets his eyes on the familiar building of the Bureau, they slow to a hurried amble, there's a swarm of people pushing and shoving, each clawing to get their way in to the large metal bunker where atop said safety is a line of six Sentries, each decorated in their gray metal armor and holding an oddly designed rifle in their hands. The quartet stops at the edge of the crowd, its then that Zuko feels a warmth begin to spread from his hand, looking down, he lays eyes on a tan fingers interlaced with his own. He blinks, confused, wondering WHY it was there. Just WHY.
Something within the core of his chest extends outwards, it calls for action. Getting a hold of himself, he disentangles his hand from Jet's, he pushes the teenager and his two friends closer to the crowd and turns to leave when the very same hand he'd released grabs his wrist, he tenses and pivots on his heel ready to snap:
"Don't T-,"
"Don't touch you." Jet rolls his eyes, letting go, "I KNOW all right. But-where are you going?"
"I'm a Sentry no matter what and it is my duty to protect the citizens of Avatar." the words spill without him meaning for them to,
"God, can you not-just drop the Sentry bullshit 'kay. They don't fucking CARE about you." Jet's stressing, "You lost your fucking helmet, you're not even wearing your stupid armor-you're not ARMED. You're a civilian just like everyone else so you've GOT to come with us!"
"I-CAN'T." Zuko spits, something just isn't right, "You're here, you're safe along with the rest of these people, but I still have others to tend to."
Jet's mouth pinches minutely, "Then I'm coming with you."
"No. You've got to stay here, I'm a SHIFTER and you're-you." Zuko can't deal with the look in the other's eyes, "You-I promise I'll come back."
It's rushed and perhaps a lie, but it gets his point across, yet Jet's still frowning, he opens his mouth to retort and Zuko swears that he's going to shove the guy through the crowd and into the bunker himself until Smellerbee steps forward. Catching the attention of both males.
"Go. We'll make sure he stays."
Grateful, Zuko nods and runs across the high rise metal fence and reaches the entrance to the Bureau's grounds. Entering the den, he scans the empty entrance room, everything is still as meticulous as it's always been but he can't hear nor see anyone else. Muttering quietly to himself and no one else, he runs through the dark, empty halls until he comes across the room he'd been looking for. Entering his number, he steps back as the door hisses and slides back, he slips through but slows to a stop upon seeing a female dressed in the uniform for the higher-ups. Her hair is inky black and she's looking up at the numerous screens placed upon the wall. Behind him, the door hisses shut, the woman turns and with little thought, Zuko stands at attention, an old habit-the woman is a Caliber, the highest ranking Sentry, her hair, skin, and eye colors are similar to Zuko's own; but her eyes are sharper, colder-he feels mildly disoriented, a ghost from his past brushing his mind.
"Look who's come back from the dead." she sings, her voice melodiously cruel, "Event-9856. Reports have indicated that you were "deceased"." the raven male feels small under her stare, "Care to explain?"
"I'm sorry." Zuko dips his chin towards his chest, "I do not know either, Caliber."
The Caliber hums to herself, he hears the click-clacking of her shoes, something close to electric fear runs up his spine, "Come here Sentry."
Swallowing the anxiety beginning to build in his throat, he moves to the metal table and sits as instructed, he keeps his head bowed as the woman reaches for something akin to a handheld metal detector. She sweeps the mechanism over his arm, or to be exact, the wrist where the bandage had been earlier that day. He notes the odd burn on her right hand. The silver metal device gives off a mismatched beep and the lights, originally blue, turn red. Her cold eyes study the screen of the device, Zuko can't help but flinch when her eyes flit to him.
"Your chip is missing."
His brows pinch, "My-what?"
Her eyes harden, he realizes he hadn't been all that elegant since they'd met, "Someone has found the chip the Bureau places in all their Sentries. It's only one of many that currently resides just beneath your flesh, and apparently the one that scans your vitals has been removed." the Sentry grabs his wrist with a frown, he's not sure who he's more vexed at; Jet or the Bureau. "Where is your helmet?"
"A man took it."
"I suppose that explains the unraveling. I can see it clearly now, they really HAVE done a number on your mind." her demeanor becomes icy, "It appears they've lied to me as well," she turns to the screens, activating them in one go, Zuko steps closer to the wall of screens, eyes scanning every one of them, upon the screens are live footage of outside the building: infected are drawing closer, the people trying to get into the bunker are panicking, the Sentries holding the rifles are shooting-his heart stops cold when he sees the bunker door closing, with people still outside, "I suppose the Bureau, or the "Dai-Li", deserve the fall of their "kingdom" after all."
"What are they doing?" Zuko's near hysterics, "There's STILL people out there!"
"Did you honestly believe the Bureau wanted to save them all?" the girl huffs, "You want to hear a little secret that only a few of us higher-ups know?"
He knows better, something TELLS him he shouldn't ask her, "What?"
"Everything you were taught about the Bureau BY the Bureau was a lie. They don't care about anyone else, they're only looking out for themselves."
Zuko distinctly remembers Jet saying something along those lines, "That's what he told me."
This has the girl frozen mid-action, "Who?"
"I-some guy named Jet." Zuko says dismissively.
The girl frowns but before she can make a move, they hear panicked shouting from somewhere in the halls, without a second thought, Zuko moves to the door and spies three preteens sprinting down the hall with a group of the faster moving infected chasing after them. One of them, a monk if Zuko is to judge by appearances, spots him and seemingly alerts the other two to his presence. The group moves to the door and bangs on the bulletproof glass, he hears the Caliber behind him mutter something caustic as he opens the door for the group. He only watches as they stumble in before he shuts the door and metal shutters cover the outside.
"Hey, thanks man," the boy with browned skin and blue eyes speaks up, "I thought we were goners for sure."
"You're welcome." Zuko nods curtly, he turns his attention to the Caliber, "I'm going to need some armor and weapons if I'm going back out there."
"And what good will a relapsed Sentry do?"
"Whatever I can do." Zuko says, "There are people out there who need my help. I-even if everything I was taught was a lie, I STILL want to help."
The Caliber snorts, "You were always too soft for your own good Zuzu."
The name hits him hard as the two boys snicker at the nickname, he wheezes out a weak, "What?"
"Don't turn this on me!" Jet's voice snaps, "Not when you don't even know who YOU are!"
Does he know something?
"Oh," the female seems vaguely surprised, "I forgot about your "clean slate"."
Betrayed.
Nauseous.
Hateful.
"How about a trade?" the Caliber purrs dangerously, "I'll help you regain your memories IF you leave the Bureau with me. Deal?"
Zuko looks at his female counterpart and nods, "Deal."
"Whoa," the brown skinned boy whispers loudly, "Sentry turn-coats."
Turn coat.
It sits wrong in his mind, but it's what he's doing after all, isn't it?
The beginning starts the night before Zuko awakens from his three day sleep then after the "X" picks up shortly after their meeting with Mauve.