A Cog in the Machine – Book One, Chapter Eight: When All Else Fails
Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own The Legend of Korra. All Avatar-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Viacom, Bryan Konietzko, and Michael Dante DiMartino.
[-]
"I appreciate this," said Hiroshi Sato, his expression hard and cold. "More than you'll ever know."
Amon offered no reply, except to raise a single finger to the painted mouth of his mask. The meaning to the gesture was obvious: this was a situation that called for stealth and silence.
They were, after all, standing directly over their sleeping victim, who was liable to wake up at any moment.
The Equalist leader held nothing against the young waterbender who, at present, was curled up beneath altogether too many sheets and snoring obnoxiously. None beyond the general hatred he felt for all benders, at least.
But Hiroshi had it in his head that his precious daughter – the one thing he cared about almost as much as his vengeance – was smitten with this girl, and that'd been enough for the industrialist to call upon a personal favor for the first time since they'd met.
Truthfully, Amon suspected the supposed affections were little more than an overprotective father's imagination, but the truth ultimately mattered very little. The fact was that they were rapidly approaching his endgame, and he couldn't afford for his best engineer to be distracted by such a minor issue.
Hiroshi's logic was simple: the girl had come to Republic City as part of a work-exchange program for waterbenders. So if she suddenly and inexplicably found herself without her bending…well, she'd be out of a job, wouldn't she? With any luck, she'd be forced to return home to find new work.
And if not, that'd be the moment for her old boss to step in and, "out of the goodness of his heart," offer her a transfer to one of their sites in Ba Sing Se or Omashu. Somewhere nice and far away from the beautiful Asami Sato.
Beneath his mask, Noatak sighed and rolled his eyes. He might as well get this over with.
With a soft cloth, the bloodbender lightly coated the most vital areas – the forehead and back of the neck – with a diluted form of shirshu venom. The toxin would numb the nerves and, with any luck, prevent her from even feeling his touch.
Still, there was always the chance she might awaken regardless; every person had a slightly different tolerance level for the venom, after all. He himself had long since developed an immunity.
All things considered, it was best he get this over with quickly.
And so, as he'd done with countless others, Amon pressed his fingers against the sleeping girl's skin.
When he'd first been developing this technique, the first thing he'd needed to learn were the complex chi paths of each individual element. The way that energy flowed through the body for a waterbender was far different from someone who wielded earth or fire. To be able to cut them all off, in the same amount of time, had required years of practical study.
So when he made contact with his victim, he'd immediately sensed exactly what he'd been expecting: the paths that marked a talented and fully trained waterbender.
Except that wasn't all he sensed.
At first, Amon was certain he must've been mistaken. He'd misread opponents before, in his early days – usually benders of one element who'd been trying to pass themselves off, in dress and mannerisms, for another.
But the more that his bloodbending senses became acclimated to this girl's body, the surer he became. He wasn't picking up a single active chi path.
He was picking up three.
Noatak's breath caught in his throat, and his cold blue eyes went wide as saucers. Not for the first time, he was immensely grateful for his mask; grateful for the fact that Hiroshi couldn't see his expression.
What were the odds of this? Was this fortune smiling upon him? A sign that there was truth in his lie – that the spirits did approve of his mission?
Either way…
This was going to change everything.
[-]
"How…How did you…?" Korra choked out, too horrified to come up with any other words. Her eyes kept darting between Amon, his minions, Mako and Bolin, and…Asami.
All of whom were, though beaten down and injured, completely and totally conscious. And staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes.
There was no way they hadn't just heard everything.
"You know my power, Avatar. You have seen it demonstrated multiple times this very night," said the Equalist leader, cutting through her panicked thoughts. "Some time ago, the two of us had a…chance encounter. You did not know it then, but I did. How could I not, when I tried to remove a single bending art and, instead, found three?"
He began to slowly approach her, his cold and methodical voice keeping perfect pace with his stride.
"I knew, then, that this knowledge was a weapon. One to be kept in reserve, until the moment it would most make you bleed," he continued on. "That is why I left your native element alone – it would tip my hand too early. But your other gifts…?"
Terror and wild fury swallowed whole any considerations of subtlety, and Korra felt her body move on its own, desperate to prove him wrong in the deadliest, most devastating way possible.
With her fists and feet, she attempted to melt the ground beneath Amon, swallowing him whole in a torrent of burning earth. And with the rest of her body, she willed all the chi she could muster to flow through her forehead, and reduce the masked man to a pile of cinders.
But nothing happened.
"Gone, Avatar. Gone forever," he finished, now a single step away from her, his unflinching stare bearing down. "And now…it's time to finish the job."
Korra willed herself to move, to fight back – she still had one element available to her, after all. But no matter how hard she willed it, her legs refused to obey. She was frozen, paralyzed, as his fingers inched closer and closer…
Her gaze darted, again, to the others, who were struggling harder than ever to free themselves. But with his limbs completely bound, Bolin's bending was essentially useless, and Mako's only slightly less so.
For one brief, hopeful moment, he seemed about to loosen a burst of flame from his mouth, but apparently Amon's lieutenant had dealt with this before, because he had a countermove ready: an oil-covered cloth that he used to gag the young firebender. Now, any attempts to breath fire would only set his own head aflame.
And as for Asami…well, it wasn't really nice to say, but with her own arms and legs held by the chi-blockers like vices, she truly was useless right now.
But then, Korra supposed she shouldn't be one to talk. After all, she was going to be in the same boat any second now…
That was right about when the Equalist holding down Bolin reached over and shocked their mustached leader into unconsciousness.
It all happened in a flash. The masked chi-blocker turned their electrified glove onto the Equalist holding Asami in just the next moment, and at the same time, raised their other fist high and unclenched it.
The metal bindings used on the brothers came apart at once, and though they were clearly both surprised by the development, they wasted little time at leaping into action. Amon, who just seconds ago had been so close to Korra's face that she could count the lines on his palm, was forced to retreat from the onslaught of fire and earth, using a spinning leap to duck behind a nearby crate.
Meanwhile, the momentary stunning of her guard was enough for Asami to wriggle herself free, knocking him out cold with a devastating pair of kicks. Immediately after, she rushed to Korra's side.
"Come on, we've gotta go," she said urgently, offering her hand to the speechless waterbender.
"I…uh…okay," murmured Korra, too shocked by all of this to even consider refusing.
The Equalist who'd helped them made a motion to follow, and seeing no better alternative they all did so. Before they scrambled out through the warehouse's back door, the traitorous chi-blocker unleashed one last, parting shot – a rising punch that sent tremors through the ceiling, and caused several of the girders hanging over them to vibrate intensely.
They were out the door just seconds before the girders fell, separating themselves from Amon by two tons of tempered iron.
Still, there was no point in taking chances, so the five of them continued to jog away at a brisk speed, eager to get as far from that warehouse as possible.
Mako was the first person to recover from the initial shock enough to ask the obvious question.
"Who the heck are you, anyway?" he demanded of the Equalist, his expression stern. "And why did you help us?"
In lieu of an explanation, they simply removed their mask. Both Korra and Asami gaped.
"Kinzoku…?" whispered the waterbender, but the other woman shook her head.
"My name is no more 'Kinzoku' than yours is 'Mizore,'" she replied, her eyes still directed straight forward. "I am Kuvira, captain of the Zaofu city guard. And you, Avatar Korra…are going to answer my questions."
[-]
"Well…" said Lin about an hour later, as she finally plopped herself down behind her desk. "That could've gone better."
"But it certainly could've gone a lot worse, too," Tenzin pointed out, taking the only other seat in the office and closing the door behind them. "Lightning Bolt Zolt may've gotten away, but we arrested the heads of all three other triads. Not to mention over two dozen of their rank and file. This could be the blow that ends their reigns of terror for good."
"If we can make the charges stick," responded Lin with a frown. "We held back because we hoped they might let something incriminating slip. Instead everything got ruined by those…those…"
"Equalists, yes. There's no question I was wrong about them," the airbender finished for her. "But isn't that a good thing? True, we'll have to eat a bit of lizard-crow next time we see Tarrlok. But not only do we have definitive proof of their existence…we managed to arrest seven of them. This is our chance to learn all we can."
"Except those 'Equalists' aren't talking," declared the Chief of Police as she leaned back in her chair, looking about ready to collapse. "I was just in an interrogation room with one for the past hour. And you don't understand these people at all."
"What do you mean?" asked Tenzin.
Lin's eyes, dulled by lack of food or sleep, narrowed in irritation, but she answered the question all the same.
"Most criminals aren't the most…loyal bunch," she said, and he knew from the way her fists clenched exactly what – or rather who – she was thinking about. "You offer them a better plea deal, or a bribe, and nine times out of ten they'll sell their 'friends' up the river before you even finish the question."
She let out a deep, exhausted yawn, though she tried to cover it up.
"But people like this? They're different," continued the metalbender in a low voice. "These are fanatics, Tenzin. Zealots. This cause they've come up with…they believe it, heart and soul. I don't think we're going to get anywhere without going for the man at the top."
"That masked man. I believe the flyers called him 'Amon,' if I remember correctly," murmured Tenzin, a pensive expression upon his face. "Unfortunately, it seems he got away as well."
"We lost track of him after those boys Tarrlok hired made a run for it," Lin explained. "Which we should talk about, by the way. Today's meeting is going to be one heck of a fiasco."
"Perhaps, but he really won't have a leg to stand on," replied Tenzin, sounding a little more confident than he actually felt. "He could have partnered with the police department for his investigation. Instead he acted on his own, outside the law. I can only imagine it's because he wanted the glory for himself."
"Or, it was because not a single one of you was taking my claims seriously," the waterbender in question suddenly interjected, slamming open the door and striding into the room as if he owned the place. "Sorry…I was waiting for our most esteemed chief here, and I couldn't help but overhear. You really should soundproof this door."
"I'll put it on my to-do list," said Lin, while at the same time affixing the councilman with a look that could kill a platypus-bear. "Now, what the flameo do you want?"
"I'm wounded by your tone," Tarrlok answered through a simpering smirk. "Especially when I'm just here to check on your little…off-the-books operation. And since the owl-cat's out of the bag – to see where you've stashed my little Fire Ferrets. But I suppose now I know you haven't the slightest idea."
Tenzin let out a long, weary sigh. "I'm confident they'll be coming to you fairly soon," he told his fellow councilman, his tone vaguely accusatory. "You're the one paying them, after all."
"Well, I didn't tell them to spill everything to you, and it's fairly obvious they did," noted the waterbender, tapping his chin quizzically. "I could use that as a reason not to pay, if I felt like it. I don't think I'll need to go that route, though. In comparison to my personal fortune, what they're asking is chump's change."
"All gained perfectly legitimately, I'm sure," Tenzin mumbled under his breath.
Tarrlok clearly hadn't missed it, however, as his face hardened noticeably.
"I assure you that it absolutely is," he said through clenched teeth. "I had to earn everything on my own, and I did all of it cleanly. It's not like my family was…"
He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence, as if he'd been about to say something he shouldn't have and caught himself just in time. Finally, he just added, "It's not like my family was wealthy. Just poor fishermen in the North. I started from nothing, which is more than I can say for either of you."
Lin snorted. "Trust me, if you wanna make this about who had the worst childhood, you're not gonna win with me," she declared with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, we're getting sidetracked. You wanted to know how the sting went? Well if you were eavesdropping, you already heard everything I care to share on the subject. You can wait for the police report for the rest."
The corner of Tarrlok's mouth twitched – though out of amusement, irritation, or a bit of both, Tenzin wasn't entirely sure.
"Very well. Just one more question, then," said the waterbender. "Amon's power…is it as the rumors say? Is he truly able to…?"
"Rumors?" repeated Tenzin, his brow furrowing. "What rumors?"
"Oh, a little here, a little there," Tarrlok responded evasively. "But how I found out is rather secondary, I feel, to whether or not it's the truth. So…is it?"
"I suppose there's no point in trying to hide it," muttered Lin with a sigh. "From the Council, at least – I'd rather the general public not find out yet. Anyway, it certainly looks like that's the case. Twenty-nine triad members being processed right now, and not one has bent a thing since Amon's attack."
"I see…" whispered Tarrlok, folding his hands and adopting an impassive expression. "Well, I suppose we've finally found one thing we can agree upon. Informing the public right now would provoke mass panic. We need to find out exactly what Amon is doing to people, and how best to counter it. Covertly."
Tenzin nodded his agreement as well. "Once every bender in the city finds out about this, there'll be no going back," he said. "It looks like Amon is trying to start a war with the United Republic. We can't risk giving him what he wants."
That was the moment Captain Saikhan chose to come bursting through the door.
"Chief!" he exclaimed, sweat running down his cheeks and forehead. "You need to…err…to see…"
His voice fell away as he took in the full scene of the office. Clearly, he hadn't expected to run into two councilmen here.
The lines of Lin's face deepened noticeably. "As you can see, Captain," she cut across him, putting emphasis on the rank. "I'm a bit busy at the moment. Can it wait?"
Saikhan let out a deep breath, as if he'd been holding it in for several minutes, and shook his head.
"I'm afraid it really can't, Chief," he said, his tone even more serious than usual – and that was saying something. "If you're not going out there personally, you at least need to turn on your radio."
Lin wasn't really sure what he was getting at, but did as he asked nonetheless. Anything that had Saikhan this worked up merited her full attention.
She turned the dial to the news station.
"…ose just joining us, a repeat of our top story. Less than thirty minutes ago, explosive devices were detonated all across the city. Direct casualties number at least seventeen, with hundreds more injured."
"Reports of seven individual bombings have been confirmed thus far. Targeted areas include City Hall, Republic City University, the Northern and Southern Water Tribe Cultural Centers, the Fire Nation Consulate, Ba Sing Se Bureaucratic Annex, and Avatar Aang Memorial Island."
"United Daily News has verified that the bombings occurred nearly simultaneously, within a space of four or five minutes from each other. Additionally, each location received an anonymous call shortly before the devices went off, requesting that the building be evacuated."
"Combined, these facts seem to suggest this was an organized, coordinated attack. No members of the government or police department have been made available for comment, however, as rescue efforts are still ongoing."
"We will be bringing you more details as soon as they become available. Until then, this is Kuroi Shinobi with United Daily News, reporting to you live."
[-]
News of the bombings spread quickly throughout Republic City, and as its people began to rise to the first rays of the dawning sun, it was the sole topic of discussion over any number of breakfast tables.
But there was at least one small tea shop, far away from the city's hustle and bustle, where the news had not yet reached.
Their conversation was taking on something of a…different tenor.
"Don't tell me you intend to deny it," Kuvira demanded of her young charge, affixing her with a piercing glare. "You are the Avatar. You came to this city under a false name, for a secret purpose. I want to know what that purpose is."
"I…" said Korra, her lips barely moving. Her eyes kept wandering between the four individuals staring expectantly at her from around the table, one after another…but always, without fail, they would end their journey upon Asami. "I…can't say. I'm sorry."
She blinked, several times, as hot, stinging tears began to flow, unbidden by her conscious mind.
"But the rest…" she continued to whisper, unable to meet their gazes, desperate to find some way out of this and finding absolutely none. "No…I won't deny it. It's all true. I am Avatar Korra."
She chanced a brief glance up at the others, unable to help herself, needing to see their reactions. Kuvira, of course, displayed no surprise, having deduced this all herself; how, Korra still wasn't quite sure.
Bolin's mouth was hanging so low it was a wonder he hadn't dislocated his jaw. Stunned into total silence, he could only manage to mouth, his lips contorting exaggeratedly, "The Avatar…"
Mako's expression was the hardest to read. His arms were crossed in front of him, his face blank and stoic. Korra could only assume he was reserving judgment until he heard more.
Then, finally, the Avatar turned to the final face. The one she'd been dreading the most.
Asami's face was not especially hard to read…but what Korra saw on it wasn't anything like what she'd expected. She didn't look hurt, or betrayed. Inexplicably, and yet unmistakably, the emotion it most resembled was…
Sympathy.
"You could've told me about this. But I understand why you didn't," the non-bender said in a quiet voice, reaching forward to place one hand atop her own. "I just wanna know…well, how. The whole world thinks you've been dead for twelve years."
And there it was. The brief, uncontrolled swoop of elation that'd swept through her stomach at Asami's words came crashing down just as quickly, because there was no easy answer to this question.
Obviously, the only reason Asami hadn't rejected her was that she didn't know the full story. In the brief few hours since they'd escaped the warehouse, she'd no doubt concocted some elaborate, overly romantic scenario by which the Avatar had bravely escaped certain doom, and gone on to any number of wild, heroic adventures.
That was all, in a sense, true, but it was also far from the entire tale. How could one describe the Red Lotus to someone who hadn't seen what she'd seen, lived what she'd lived?
What they were planning to do, what she was planning to do, would sound insane to an outsider's ear. It was all but impossible for people who'd been inundated from birth with lies from blind leaders and corrupt governments to see the world for what it was.
She'd learned this more times than she could count, and it was always a harsh lesson.
It'd be a difficult enough case to make if she was in a calm and stable mindset, and she was about as far from that right now as she'd ever been. So much had happened over the course of the previous night and day; enough that she hadn't even begun to deal with half of it.
On any other day, the revelation that she'd lost two-thirds of her bending abilities would've consumed every last corner of her mind. Now…it was almost an afterthought.
If only because she was intentionally trying not to think about it.
She'd been silent for an extremely long time now, and she was acutely aware of it. Finally, Kuvira seemed to lose what little patience she had, and seized hold of the front of Korra's clothes.
"You will answer her question, Avatar," she murmured dangerously, holding the waterbender up until their noses were practically touching. "Or I'll see fit to share what you conveniently left out of your story."
The older woman accompanied these words with a flick of her wrist, causing a metal Pai Sho tile to emerge from her sleeve. It lingered for less than a second before Kuvira hid it again, but Korra got the message. Her breath caught in her throat.
"How did you…?" she asked, her voice a strained whisper.
"I am very good at what I do," said the metalbender, a hint of smugness in her expression. Her next words were spoken with a raised voice, ensuring the others could hear. "I know which masters you serve, Avatar. I see no need to make that knowledge common…should you be willing to fill in the rest of the pieces for me."
Korra looked stricken, but eventually nodded, acceding to her terms. She didn't see a lot of other options.
She could try to run, of course – she'd been thinking about it more or less constantly on their way to this nearly empty teashop – but with only one element, she didn't fully trust herself against an opponent with so many unknown capabilities.
Particularly one who could bring down an entire building without breaking a sweat.
Before Korra could begin to explain, however, Bolin of all people chose to interject. "Hold on a second," he declared, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "We're asking an awful lotta questions of Mizore…err, I mean, Korra. But at least we know her. Umm…well, that is, we kinda do. Sorta."
He swallowed, having stumbled a bit in his momentum, but attempted to recover swiftly. "My point is…" the earthbender continued on. "Well, what about you, ma'am? We only just met, and we barely even know your name! How come you get to take the lead on all this?"
Kuvira's expression instantly turned far sterner, and Bolin visibly recoiled from her glare.
"Let us get one thing straight, you conniving little street urchin-crab," she said, her tone brooking no room for dissent. "The only reason I'm letting you three sit in on my interrogation is because I hoped you might have some worthwhile information to add. The moment I have no more use for you, I will take immense pleasure in ejecting you far from my sight. Are we clear?"
Bolin trembled, suddenly looking ten years younger than he actually was. "Yes ma'am…" he squeaked, his voice positively tiny.
"Could you at least tell us who you are and why you're here?" asked Mako, his voice even and reasonable. "You seem to know all about us. I think it's only fair."
"I have little interest in 'fairness' for its own sake. But…I suppose I can agree to that much, if only for expediency's sake," answered Kuvira, releasing a low, measured sigh. "As I already stated, my name is Kuvira, and I serve as captain of the guard for the Metal Clan of Zaofu. I'm on a mission on behalf of our city's matriarch, Suyin Beifong."
Bolin's mouth immediately shot open, as if he was about to say something, but the metalbender cut him off preemptively.
"And before you ask, yes, that is 'Beifong' as in the youngest daughter of Master Toph, and the sister of your city's Chief of Police," she added in an annoyed tone. "She wished me to conduct an investigation of these 'Equalist' vermin, and that is precisely what I've done. It just so happened my investigations also stumbled across something…else."
Her piercing green eyes snapped back to Korra. "Which brings us back to our original subject," said the metalbender, without missing a beat. "You surely came to this city with agenda of your own. Tell them to me, in detail, before I decide there's no longer any value in niceties."
Despite the gravity of the situation, Korra found herself sharing a look with the others, and she could tell they were all thinking the same thing. This was her being nice?
"Well…the truth is…" the Avatar responded hesitantly. "The main reason I'm here…is the same one you are. Trying to look into the Equalists."
"Hmmm. I suspected as much," stated Kuvira, her arms folded. "They would present a potential threat to your plans. Even more so, now that their leader has rendered you…unwhole."
Korra cast her gaze downward, blinking away tears she hadn't realized were still there.
"I still have so many questions," Asami spoke up again, her own eyes shimmering. All this time, her hand hadn't left Korra's. "If you're her – the Avatar who came after Aang – well, wasn't she from the South? The Massacre…that's where everyone thought we'd lost you. If you survived somehow…"
The waterbender nodded softly. "Almost everything I've ever told you was a lie," she said, looking askance. "I'm not from the North…I've never even been to the North. My documents are forged. All this…it was just to find out about Amon."
She bit her lip, shaking from head to toe, before adding in a strained, barely audible whisper, "I'm sorry."
"You may have lied to get your job, but that doesn't mean you lied about everything," replied Asami, her tone insistent. "There's just one thing I don't get. Why that job, specifically? Why come to Future Industries in the first place?"
"Probably for the same reasons I did," Kuvira interjected, before Korra could say anything. Not that she had the first clue what she would've said. "The Avatar appears too much of a coward to broach the subject, so I will. It's highly probable your father is connected to the Equalists, Miss Sato."
Asami was silent for several moments, staring at the metalbender unblinkingly. Then, in a very quiet voice, she muttered, "…What?"
"It hardly takes a genius to suspect him of a major role," said Kuvira, betraying not even the slightest hint of sympathy. "The Equalists possess industrial capability beyond any mere terrorist organization. Clearly, they have moneyed interests involved – interests that, necessarily, would be non-benders. Hiroshi Sato fits all of these criteria."
"And that's enough for you to accuse him of something so…so horrible?" demanded Asami, her tones incredulous.
"I assure you, those are just a small sampling of my reasons to suspect him. Few of which I see any value whatsoever in sharing with you," Kuvira declared contemptuously, before turning back to Korra. "But I will tell you this much. At this time two days ago, you still held the full range of your bending. I was tailing you as you made your way to the Sato residence, and I know you were surreptitiously using seismic sense."
Korra didn't try to deny it, though she suppressed a shiver at the implications. She thought she'd been careful, but clearly…
"And since that night – unless I'm very much mistaken – you've been cognizant of your surroundings the entire time," the metalbender went on, her eyes boring into Korra's. "Do you understand what that means? For Amon to have attacked you while you were unaware, there was only one potential opportunity."
"When I was…asleep…" the Avatar whispered slowly, her eyes going wide with horror.
"Precisely," said Kuvira. "Your visit to the Sato mansion was spontaneous and unannounced. For Amon to strike there that night by mere coincidence is simply impossible. Help from the inside would've been required."
"I'm not hearing this," Asami growled, her hands balled up in fists. "Even if what you're saying is true, it's no reason to suspect my father. It could've been anyone who works at our estate. Heck, it could've been me."
"I haven't completely placed you below suspicion, as of yet," Kuvira stated harshly, her own body tensing reflexively. "But for now, my focus is upon Hiroshi Sato. It'll be a little more difficult now that my cover as 'Kinzoku' has been blown…but I suppose that really can't be helped."
"Yeah, uh…I got a question about that," Bolin cut in, speaking up for the first time since Kuvira had badgered him into silence. "How come you were there in the first place? And dressed up like one of those freaky mask guys!"
"Obviously, I was in disguise to infiltrate the summit," said Kuvira, her tone dismissive, as if she was lecturing a five-year-old. "I'd hoped I could enter and leave under the cover of my stolen uniform, with Amon none the wiser. But I couldn't stand back and allow the Avatar to be struck down."
The metalbender's eyes narrowed. These next words, though she said them with the same logical and matter-of-fact tone as she did everything else, were no doubt coming straight from the heart.
"Whatever she is, whatever she now…represents, she is too important to the world for it to lose," she told them, her face impassive.
"Not again."
[-]
Each of the gathered leaders of Republic City stared at the next in turn, unsure who should be the first to speak.
Finally, after the silence had stretched on to nearly three minutes, Lin more or less summed things up with a murmured, "By the spiritbegotten spirits of a spirit's spirit and the spirit mother of a spirit spirit spirit…"
Several of those words were not actually "spirit," but that was how Tenzin chose to interpret them.
"We have to get out there," said Tenzin, already leaping to his feet with an accompanying flurry of wind. "Those people need our help."
Saikhan held up a hand. "Our officers are deploying in full force to save lives and control the damage," he explained. "With all due respect, Councilman, I don't think rushing in right now would be a very good idea."
"Listen to him, Tenzin," added Tarrlok, his tones blunt and impatient. "While I can appreciate the urge to play the valiant hero, you can do a lot more good from here, determining how we catch those responsible."
Tenzin sighed, but nodded softly. Much as he hated to admit it, Tarrlok was right.
Sitting back down, he turned back to the other two and asked, "I assume we're all thinking the same thing?"
Tarrlok nodded as well. "The Equalists. This has their filthy hands written all over it," he spat out. "I told you that if we didn't clamp down on them early, they'd go after ordinary benders next. Looks like we didn't have to wait long."
Lin, however, seemed deep in thought, barely listening to what the chairman was saying in increasingly venomous tones. He shot her an inquisitive look, but she didn't acknowledge it.
"In any event, they couldn't have struck at a worse time," said the airbender, deciding to bring it up later – once Tarrlok was no longer in the room. "With the majority of the police's metalbenders deployed to the summit, our forces were severely stretched everywhere else."
"Yes…" responded the waterbender, his eyes narrowed. "And I very much doubt that was a coincidence."
That managed to shake Lin out of her reverie. "What exactly are you getting at, Tarrlok?" she demanded, a sharp edge to her voice.
"I'll be blunt, Chief," he replied, folding his fingers together in that smug, self-important way only he could pull off. "You've got a leak in your department. Only a very small contingent of your subordinates knew about the sting ahead of time. Even I didn't find out until after the fact."
"You think the Equalists have a mole amongst the police," said Tenzin, mulling over the notion carefully. "I suppose it could be possible. We still know so little about their capabilities."
"Ludicrous. I refuse to believe it," declared Lin, her voice practically a growl. "There are bad cops here and there, sure. But none of them are on the take from terrorists in theatre masks."
"Then what other explanation is there?" Tarrlok asked. He didn't bother to wait for an answer. "Deal with the facts, Chief Beifong. Your elite metalbenders are above reproach – probably – but there are plenty of non-benders who work in your department as well. And we need to do something about them."
"I'm not sure I like where this is going," the airbender cut in, his brow furrowed.
"I expect you won't. But that doesn't make it any less necessary," said the chairman. He extracted a sheaf of papers from his breast pocket. "Later today, I will again present this proposal to the Council – to render association with the Equalists illegal, and to institute a mandatory curfew for all non-benders. Both measures which are long overdue. But now, I'll be joining them with one other."
Tarrlok paused for a moment, his mouth a thin line, before finishing, "A formal inquisition will be opened into each and every non-bender in public service. Police, military, or civilian. It's the only way to be certain."
"Have you lost your mind, Tarrlok?!" exclaimed Tenzin, scrambling to his feet once again. "Didn't I just say we shouldn't let Amon turn this into a war between benders and non-benders? You're practically sending this to him gift-wrapped!"
"You'll have your say at the meeting, Tenzin…just as you always do," the waterbender answered, his lip slightly curled. "Just don't blame me if you find yourself in the…distinct minority. But then, I suppose you'd be used to that by now."
"This is a rare sentence for me, but I agree with Tenzin," said Lin. "Your proposal is going to do way more harm than good. Heck, we still aren't even certain the Equalists are responsible for this one."
"Oh, please. Who else could it be?" asked Tarrlok, rolling his eyes.
Throughout their meeting, the gathered councilmen and police officers had left the radio on, just in case it reported any updates. But no new information had come in the last twenty minutes or so, and with the same story repeating over and over, the dulcet tones of Kuroi Shinobi largely faded into the background.
Still, when those tones abruptly cut off, it drew the attentions of everyone in the room immediately.
Static blared over the speakers for several seconds, eerie and dissonant. Then, another voice began to speak.
A voice all but one of them had heard very recently.
"Good morning, people of Republic City. You may call me Amon."
"By now, I'm sure that most of you have witnessed my handiwork. Our handiwork. Let it be known that the Equalist Movement claims full responsibility for the bombings that rocked your city today."
"Some of you may have already heard of our cause. Many, I'm sure, have not. But either way, I think this a good time to establish what we stand for…and, what we demand."
"For thousands of years, this world has known one, singular truth. That those fortunate enough to be born with power of bending were its natural rulers, and all the rest…fit only to be crushed beneath their heel."
"We are here to expose that 'truth' for exactly what it is. History's oldest, cruelest lie."
"For those who have clung to this wretched, unnatural power as a way to subjugate your fellow man, know this: your time, your era, is over. Never again shall you rape or slaughter with impunity. Never again shall you escape judgment for your crimes. Never again shall you be safe."
"All who have spent their lives bullied and downtrodden by the bending elites…you, the silent majority, may breathe easy. We will be your protectors. And we will create a world where no child will have to grow up alone…because of some bender punk."
"Last night, I took another step toward that goal. No doubt, many of you have witnessed the atrocities of the bending triads firsthand. Perhaps you have a friend or a loved one who's been burned, bludgeoned, or drowned on dry land. Perhaps you have been a victim of their monstrous attacks."
"But now, for the first time in decades…this city's innocents have nothing to fear. A few short hours ago, with my own hand, I ended the triads. Once and for all."
"No doubt, some of you will be skeptical. But the truth of my power will become obvious in time. The spirits themselves have turned against the mortal world – and the way we have allowed bending to twist and pervert it. That is why they have granted me the ultimate weapon. The weapon I used to render the criminal filth of Republic City incapable of harming another."
"I took their bending away."
"It is a power I can, and will, use on any bender. Water, earth, fire, and air. None can stand against me. None are immune to our Solution."
"Make no mistake – this is only the beginning. We will accept nothing less than the complete dissolution of the bending establishment. A purge of benders from all positions of power in government, business, and law. And the recognition of bending as the high crime it truly is…worthy of a sentence of life."
"These changes can happen peacefully. Or…they can be taken by force."
"The choice is yours, Republic City."
The radio became static once more.
Tarrlok turned to the others. His face was set somewhere halfway between smug self-satisfaction…and a grim, subdued resignation.
"Any more doubts?" he asked quietly.
He didn't bother to wait for an answer before picking up his papers and storming out the door.
[-]
"Did you hear that, Zhu Li?" said Varrick excitedly, practically dancing a jig as he turned off his own radio. "We might not even have to use the ad campaign for our mover! Amon's the best pitchman I've ever seen!"
Zhu Li did not respond immediately, as she was currently buried underneath something in the neighborhood of four-thousand flyers, craning her neck around the enormous stack to try and see where she was going.
Each of the flyers was emblazoned with a cartoonishly exaggerated depiction of Amon's grinning face – or grinning mask, rather – along with a headshot of Ginger in her princess costume, looking distraught and pretending to scream.
The title was printed above them in a sharp, messy font Varrick's marketing team had assured him was sufficiently "spooky."
The Curse of Amon, the Ancient and Almighty!
Last-minute rewrites had turned Amon of the film into a centuries-old immortal being seeking vengeance for his long-dead wife. Combined with Varrick's general predilection for alliteration – second only to his insistence on prefixing as many things with "Varri-" as possible – the choice had seemed obvious.
Well…obvious to him, anyway.
In any event, Zhu Li was not exactly happy to hear that all her work designing, printing, and hauling around these ridiculous posters might be for naught. The best way to phrase this, however, eluded her.
Yet as he was wont to do, with an almost distressing level of frequency, Varrick seemed to read her mind, adding, "Of course, as long as we've got 'em handy, we might as well stick to the original plan. No such thing as too much publicity! That's a Verified Varri-fact."
"Then I'll get these mailed out right away, sir," said his assistant, bowing her head.
"Very good, very good," he replied, showing off his charming smile as he reclined back in his chair. "You see, Zhu Li, what everyone's gonna be scrambling around for now is answers. Because the one thing everybody, and I mean everybody hates…is being kept in the dark. If you can sell people answers, you can sell 'em anything."
Varrick gestured casually to the radio. "All that big grand speechifying he just did? That's gonna have people running scared all over town," he continued. "They're gonna be desperate for something, anything that'll tell 'em more about this guy. Who is he? Where'd he come from? Will buying a patented Varri-Armor Body Suit save me from his ancient undead wrath? When they see these flyers in their mailboxes tomorrow, it'll feel like a spiritsend!"
"Except you made all those details up," Zhu Li point out. "None of us actually know those things."
"Well, yeah," said Varrick, rolling his eyes and shrugging dramatically. "I'm creating art here, not a news broadcast. Not my fault if the audience takes it too seriously."
Zhu Li was briefly tempted to reply that no, in fact, there was very little chance of anyone taking this mover seriously. She elected not to say so aloud, however.
"Turning our attentions to another topic," she stated after a moment, pointing to another set of papers on his desk with her foot. Her hands were still busy putting postage on over four-thousand flyers. "Something's been bothering me ever since the bombings. Are you aware that two nights ago, a shipment full of our proprietary explosives went missing?"
"Oh yeah, I know," answered the Southerner, picking up a children's toy from his desk and playing with it absently. "I'm the one who left the warehouse unlocked."
Beneath her glasses, Zhu Li's eyes went momentarily wide. "What…?" she asked quietly.
"Whoever was in charge of keeping a lookout, he was really bad at it," said Varrick with a casual shrug. "Spotted him like three times. I figured they had to be after the bombs and detonators, so I just let 'em take 'em. Figured this was pretty much exactly what they'd do. And hey, I was right! One more win for the Varrick column!"
"But…But sir…" murmured his assistant, her normal, emotionless demeanor cracking slightly. "All those people…"
"Not saying I'm proud of it!" he exclaimed, throwing up his arms defensively. "But hey, this is war, Zhu Li. Great for business, not so good for the whole 'people not dying' thing. At least there weren't too many this time."
This time…Zhu Li wasn't sure if he'd intended those words to sound so chilling.
Nevertheless, she couldn't really think of a good counterargument. Nothing short of finally leaving him, anyway…and to be frank, even if he'd killed those seventeen people personally, she doubted she would've been able to do that.
She was bound to this man, inextricably drawn to him, and had largely resigned herself to the idea that this would be the case for life.
Devoid of anything resembling morals he might be, but there was still no one on the planet who came close to matching his sheer genius. She couldn't just walk away from that.
As such, though conflict continued to rage in her heart, outwardly Zhu Li affected her stoic mask once more and said with a nod, "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"
"Just you keep being you," Varrick responded with a grin and a wink, as if he'd just said something intensely profound. "Heck, after you've got those flyers sent out, why don't you take the rest of the day off?"
That wasn't a set of words she heard out of him very often. Or…ever, really. "Are you certain, sir?" she asked.
He waved his hand dismissively. "My breakfast's been cooked and my bunions have been scraped. I think I can handle it from here," he told her, before taking on a pensive look, as if thinking better of it. "Weeeeell…I can handle it until dinner, anyway. Be back by then and we're golden."
The Southerner gave her a double thumbs-up and another wink.
"In the meantime, you go out and enjoy yourself," he went on to add, smiling so wide his teeth glinted in the morning sun. "You've definitely earned it."
Zhu Li wasn't sure she deserved to blush right now. But she did, nonetheless.
Unable to think of anything else to say, she returned his smile, hesitantly, and then left the office.
It was all she trusted herself to be able to do right now.
[-]
"So, uh…is anyone gonna deal with the elephant-mandrill in the room here?" asked Bolin, his voice small and tentative.
The others turned toward him, unsure of what he was getting at.
"Err…well, however or whenever he did it, Amon took away the Avatar's bending! The Avatar!" he said, gesturing to Korra with both hands. "We're not gonna just let him get away with that, are we?"
"Not really sure what you mean by that, bro," replied Mako. "I don't pretend to get how it happened, but it did. There's nothing we can really do about it, is there?"
"We track him down, kick his butt, and make him give her bending back!" declared the earthbender. "I mean, it's obvious, isn't it? This is fate!"
"Umm…fate…?" Asami repeated, clearly just as lost as the rest of them.
"Well, look at us!" exclaimed Bolin, starting to become a bit exasperated that no one was on the same page as him. "An earthbender, a firebender, a metalbender, a non-bender, and the Avatar! And we all came together…err, well, kinda…after a big scary adventure! Didn't you guys ever hear the stories of Team Avatar in their prime?"
"Of course. I mean, everyone has," said Asami. "But what's this gotta do with us?"
Mako, however, had cottoned to his brother's meaning. And he groaned rather vocally.
"Bro, focus. We were there to get paid so we can enter the tournament," the firebender reminded him. "Don't go trying to turn this into…"
"There are things in this world more important than yuans!" Bolin called out, leaping to his feet and extending his pointer finger straight in the air. "Don't you all see? We could be the New Team Avatar! Fighting to restore the Avatar to full power – righting wrongs and saving fair maidens along the way, of course – so she can save the whole world!"
"I cannot even begin to express how little the idea of being on a 'team' appeals to me," Kuvira stated sharply. "But…"
Then, to the immense surprise of all gathered, her mouth suddenly twisted into a small but unmistakable smile.
"I concede there may be some value in…pooling our resources," she continued, her hands folded neatly. "Let me be clear: I do not particularly like any of you. But we each possess connections and information the others lack. If it helps to bring some semblance of order to this spiritforsaken city, I'd be…amenable to cooperation."
Mako let out a lengthy sigh. "Gonna make me out to be the bad guy on this one, aren't you?" he said to his brother, shaking his head as he did. "Alright, fine. Long as we get paid, I guess we can do this too. Let's keep it on the down-low, though. We've already attracted enough attention as it is."
As soon as he finished speaking, Asami turned to Korra and rested a hand on her drooping shoulder.
"Whatever happens…" she whispered, her eyes staring forward intently. "I'm with you. Don't forget that."
And then, just like that, all eyes were on Avatar Korra. She directed her gaze downward once again, her face burning under the pressure. As she'd been pretty much since the moment they'd left the warehouse, she wished desperately that she could have some time alone.
Knowing they were expecting an answer, she hastily pushed herself to think this all through logically. Certainly, it'd be all but impossible to do what she needed to during Harmonic Convergence, without the power of a fully realized Avatar. And in any event, in order to complete her current mission, she had to confront Amon again. Either to hold a dialogue with him, or else to…
Well, regardless, it followed that she should take any available opportunity to force such a confrontation. Sure, there were risks involved. But for better or worse, she'd already told these four so much. Her cover was hopelessly compromised either way.
She wasn't sure whether what Amon did even was reversible – heck, she wasn't really sure what he was doing, period – but didn't she at least owe it to the Lotus to try?
"If…If you guys can help me…if you guys really wanna help me…" she finally managed to choke out, speaking through tightened lips. "Then okay. I'm in."
[-]
"Alright, I think I've done everything I can here. Time to get moving," said Lin Beifong, neatly arranging a tall stack of reports and locking them in her desk drawer with her bending. She'd have to get around to them once things died down a bit.
If things ever died down a bit.
"I'll make sure the other councilmembers are informed of the current situation," Tenzin offered, leaping to his feet as well. "After that …I'd like to stop by Avatar Aang Memorial Island. Several of our acolytes work there part-time. I want to make sure they're alright."
Lin waved her hand airily. "Do whatever you want. It doesn't concern me," she told him, already halfway out the door.
"Lin…" he murmured, his face falling slightly at her tone.
"It…wasn't the worst thing in the world to team up last night. Like old times," she found herself saying, for reasons she wasn't fully capable of explaining. She was still facing resolutely away. "But the night's over. And we've both got things to do."
Before she could manage to slip away, however, the airbender raised his voice and called out, "There was something else you had to say. Something you didn't want to tell Tarrlok."
Lin stiffened for a moment. "What makes you think that?" she asked, her tone measured.
"Because I know you, Lin. There's no sense in pretending I don't," answered Tenzin. "It was right after we heard the first news report."
The Chief of Police let out a hefty sigh. "It was…probably nothing," she said, placing one hand upon the doorknob.
"I'd still like to know," he replied. "Your 'probably nothings' are better than most people's best hunches."
She could tell that he was crossing his arms without turning around, merely by his tone of voice. One of the many "skills" she'd picked up from her mom.
Lin sighed again. "Alright, fine," she growled, her voice low. "It has to do with their targets. Admittedly, we don't know much about the Equalists yet, but something about the attack seems…off."
"What do you mean?" asked the councilman.
"No question, attacking City Hall makes sense. And there's a certain poetry, I guess, in attacking places linked to all four elements," she explained. "But if their pork-beef is with bending, the university's the odd one out. Most of its students and staff are non-benders. It's one of the places where discrimination against non-benders is least tolerated."
"Perhaps Amon doesn't know that," said Tenzin. "It's a target with a high amount of visibility. If his intention was to send a message, that might've been all he cared about."
But Lin shook her head. "If he just wanted to put a scare into benders, there're so many other places he could've attacked," she continued. "Bending schools, the pro-bending arena…even a crowded street or an office building, if he doesn't care about casualties. But he called in warnings beforehand, so that's definitely not the case."
"Well, the attacks certainly aren't random, either," responded Tenzin – stating the obvious, as usual. "So are you seeing a different connection?"
The metalbender scowled, though she knew he couldn't see it.
"I am," she muttered, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I just…don't know what it means, yet."
[-]
Some people, while on the run from the law, would adopt as austere a lifestyle as possible, in order to minimize their profile.
Lightning Bolt Zolt, who was presently leaning back in his cushy armchair and sipping liberally from a glass of flaming baijiu, was clearly not one of those people.
So confident was he that the firebender was "laying low" in his very own office – a laundry service used to provide cover for his illicit "side businesses" and turn a healthy profit of its own.
"No two ways 'bout it," he said in between sips of his beverage, relishing the sensation of his insides being lightly singed. While traditionally an Earth Kingdom drink, Fire Nation settlers had long since discovered the advantages of lighting its rim aflame. "Last night was a bust."
He drummed his fingers along the edge of his chair at he took another, lengthy draught.
"I call everybody together to see what we can do 'bout those Equalist fellas, an' what happens?" the firebender went on, his every word slow and methodical. "Every other triad leader gets the bendin' knocked right outta 'em. Same with most o' our guys. Only folks who got away unscathed were me, an' a couple o' my lieutenants. Y'know…s'almost as if…"
Zolt's face suddenly twisted into a tight leer. "Somebody planned it that way," he finished with a low, sadistic chuckle.
He raised what remained of his glass to meet his partner's, which still remained full. Understandable, of course.
Zolt couldn't well ask him to remove his mask in this sort of company, after all.
"Then I suppose all things went according to plan," said Amon, accepting the toast.
"More o' less. I lost a couple guys to the cops, but they're small-fry. I know you had to make it look convincin'," replied the firebender, downing the rest of his drink and immediately moving to refill it. "Besides, they're more than worth eliminatin' every bit o' competition in a single night. As o' today, this city belongs to the Triple Threats."
"It was an elaborate scheme, indeed," stated the masked man, his voice even.
Bolstered by his victory and giddy from the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, that was all the invitation Zolt needed to begin gloating.
"The tricky part was gettin' the cops to show up at the right time," he told the other man. "Paid off a guy I know in the Agni Kais to leak the time an' place. Then I jus' had to make sure I gave them – an' you – a good openin' to strike. Thankfully, Long Shi can always be counted on to be an idiot."
"I see. And what are your plans, now that you control Republic City's underworld?" asked Amon, his tones still betraying no emotion one way or another.
"Good question. Never thought it'd be this easy," answered Zolt. "But hey, you see an opportunity…ya grab it. That's always been my motto. An' you, my friend, were one heckuva opportunity."
The gangster began tapping at his broad chin, looking quizzical.
"Guess the first order o' business will be gettin' what remains o' the other triads in line," he eventually said. "The Terras an' Monsoons should be easy; they're on the brink o' collapse already, an' they know it. The Kais could be trickier…but I think my bein' a firebender should help smooth things over. I may not be one o' them smoky chicks, but I could bend circles 'round Niao any day o' the week. Not that that's sayin' much now, I guess…"
Amon didn't reply except by leaning forward slightly, his painted grin ever-present.
"Anyway, I ain't forgotten my end o' the deal," Zolt added hastily, downing another glass in a single gulp as he did. "We'll lay off on harassin' the districts we discussed, an' we'll keep outta the way o' your guys if they ever run into each other."
His smug, self-satisfied smirk returned. "Can't get rid o' bendin' crime entirely," he murmured, his tone amicable. This was clearly meant to be taken as some form of friendly advice. "But at least now you can make it work for you, instead o' against."
There was a single, silent beat. Then Amon said, "Oh? I'm not quite sure I agree."
Zolt's muscles tensed slightly, and one of his eyebrows rose. "What're you gettin' at?" he asked, very carefully.
"I mean to say that there's at least one way the triads could be toppled," whispered Amon, and though his voice was low the firebender had no trouble hearing every word. All other sound in the room seemed to have suddenly ceased. "For example, you could simply manipulate one of its heads into devouring all the others. Then, the entire system could be cut down…"
In a single blink, the masked man had leapt to his feet and crossed the distance between them.
"With a single stroke," he concluded, his hand already outstretched.
Zolt's face twitched slightly, his smirk not quite disappearing, as if he was half-convinced this was a joke.
"You think I didn't see this comin'?" he said, a distinct edge to his voice that was just shy of genuine panic. "Shin, Viper, get yo' lazy butts in here!"
But the door to his office remained closed.
"Their bending was already gone the moment you poured your first glass," Amon informed him, flexing each of his fingers individually with an audible pop. "But don't worry. Your impurity won't plague you for much longer."
Letting loose a furious roar, Zolt moved to unleash the power that lent him his moniker. But the very instant he leapt to his feet, one of his legs suddenly buckled beneath him, and he collapsed into a heap.
That was all the opening Amon needed.
It look less than a minute for the bloodbender to "equalize" the arrogant crimelord, signal the chi-blockers who'd covertly eliminated his security, and load him into one of his own laundry trucks.
Amon had been fine with leaving the other triad leaders in the police's clutches, but Lightning Bolt Zolt was the face of bending tyranny for any number of Republic City's most impoverished citizens. Trotting him out at some later date, beaten and humiliated, could make for valuable propaganda.
Once that was done with, Amon dismissed the rest of his forces, leaving him alone in Zolt's spacious office. He hesitated for a moment, stretching out his bloodbending senses to make certain nobody else was near, before sitting down at the gangster's desk, pulling off his mask, and reached for the bottle of baijiu.
Amon tended not to partake in any food or drink while out in the field, but on this particular day he made an exception, downing glass after glass of the steaming beverage. It burned his tongue and the inside of his mouth, but that only spurred him to drink more quickly.
The pain was a useful reminder right now.
Things were progressing more rapidly than the bloodbender had ever imagined, and quiet moments like this were becoming fewer and farther between. That was the disadvantage of heading a cult of personality, after all. The mask could never come off – figuratively or literally.
Noatak was allowed to be human, just for a little while. Amon was not.
At any given time, a thousand different things were there to occupy his attentions. Writing speeches to rally fresh recruits and stalwart diehards alike; personal inspections of their weapons and mecha-tanks; "purification" of the latest batch of captives, and then deciding on what to do with them afterward.
The previous night had been no exception. For most people, an unplanned encounter with the Avatar would've been all they could think about, several hours later.
For Amon, she was just another factor to take into consideration.
Seconds after polishing off his eighth glass, the bloodbender became aware of another presence in the building. He'd missed their approach – alcohol dulled his "blood sense," which was part of the reason he almost never partook – but at this range, even his weakened bending couldn't possibly fail to notice them.
Hastily, Noatak slid his mask over his false scars, becoming Amon once more. Of course, one could certainly argue he never actually stopped these days.
The figure entered the office in a cloak, hood pulled down to hide all but the bottom half of his face, but Amon recognized him immediately. No disguise could change one's blood.
"Should I be concerned you located me so quickly?" asked Amon, gesturing to the chair he'd been using during his meeting with Zolt. The hooded man dutifully sat down.
"Oh, please. Don't try to pretend you don't have just as many spies following me as I do you," said the other man, pulling back his hood once his own senses – not bending ones, of course, but just as well-practiced – had convinced him they were alone.
The Republic City Council's page, Jilu, grinned cheekily. "Frankly, if you didn't, I'd feel kind of insulted," he added, as he began folding his cloak into a neat pile.
"Still…talented spies, to have alerted you with such haste," stated Amon, folding his hands upon the desk between them. "I suppose they've kept you abreast of what just transpired?"
"More or less," Jilu replied airily. "And yes, the Lotus counts some of the world's best among their membership. They're not all like poor Nei Jian. Although…I suppose I should be grateful to the child. Without his capture as a catalyst, our partnership would've never blossomed."
"I'd refrain from using the term 'partnership,' if you please," said Amon, his tones low and warning. "Our goals, for the moment, align. That does not mean I'll hesitate to destroy you, when the time comes."
Jilu's mouth twitched upward in bemusement. "The feeling's mutual, I assure you," he told the bloodbender.
"So why exactly are you here?" asked Amon after a moment's pause, a subtle but distinct sharpness to his voice.
The older man shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Just felt like checking in. I was the one who suggested we use Zolt's ambitions to our own ends, after all," he answered with a smile. "Last night was a big one, for both our causes."
"I allowed you a measure of input on our targets. Nothing more," Amon said quietly. "It just so happens that the bending elites and corrupt leaders of the world are, quite often, one and the same. Not a single government on this planet could persist without the power of bending to dominate and oppress."
"Nevertheless, a vital blow has been struck to the adversaries of freedom," responded Jilu, removing his glasses and beginning to wipe them diligently with a cloth. "Even if they don't yet realize it. The Red Lotus is content to rise in the Equalists' shadow. It will make it all the easier when we finally do step into the light."
"Until the moment we build a truly equal government upon the ashes of the old," the bloodbender reminded him. "Then, I trust, we shall become your prey."
"Well, excepting that such a thing simply isn't possible," said Jilu, taking on a didactic tone. "Governments are unequal by definition. They determine what one person should have and another should not. No matter how grand your intentions, you can never escape that simple fact."
He leaned back in his chair and replaced his glasses.
"But, I see no reason not to allow you to try and prove me wrong," he continued, smirking knowingly. "You'll fail, of course, but you can certainly try. It's only at that point that we'll become enemies."
"Whereas you shall be our enemies for as long as you employ bending to your cause," whispered Amon, leaning forward slightly to emphasize his severity. "Make no mistake: the Equalists see no more 'good benders' than you see good governments. My mission shall not be satisfied until every bender on this planet has been purified."
He paused for a moment before finishing, his voice deathly cold, "And that includes your Avatar."
The corners of Jilu's smile twitched again. "She really belongs more to Zaheer's group than the Lotus as a whole," he said. "We allow them to do their own thing, for the most part."
Beneath his mask, though it was hard to see, Amon's beady eyes narrowed.
"He isn't aware of this," murmured the bloodbender, suddenly realizing.
"Zaheer is a fool. A valuable one, but a fool nonetheless," explained Jilu. "His faction wastes time meddling with spirits we scarcely understand, let alone are able to control. His plans for Harmonic Convergence are doomed to failure, and will only set back our cause."
Amon filed away that information for later. He doubted he'd get a straight answer if he asked directly, but whatever "Harmonic Convergence" was, anything to do with the spirits warranted…further investigation.
Instead, he merely said, "So the Equalists represent a power play for you."
"An apt way to put it, I suppose," replied Jilu, pleased by the other man's shrewdness. "Zaheer has been a devotee to our cause since he was a teenager, but the success of his gambit for the Avatar…emboldened him. Caused him to seek grander and grander prizes that could jeopardize our very existence. I, and those like me, believe we should concentrate on toppling world leaders, rather than playing around with spiritual mumbo-jumbo."
"Then…I suppose you're not displeased by what I did to the Avatar?" Amon asked, deciding to keep things vague, wanting to know how well-informed his spies were really keeping him.
"Not at all!" Jilu exclaimed genially. "Although I'm still not sure why you'd leave the Avatar a single element in the first place, if you were just going to remove it anyway."
Amon's inner voice quietly swore. Clearly, they were keeping him very well-informed.
"You're assuming I ever intended to follow through in that warehouse," said the bloodbender. "I knew there was an interloper amongst my chi-blockers; disguises are useless trifles against me. I gambled that threatening the Avatar would force her to expose herself…and, quite evidently, I succeeded."
Amon folded his arms. "Besides, there'd be little value in neutralizing the Avatar so…cleanly," he went on. "So long as she possesses one of her weapons, she'll never stop pursuing me for the rest. And with every confrontation, I will learn more. About this 'Zaheer,' and what he intends for me. And about the girl herself."
"What's there to learn?" Jilu tossed off, waving his hand dismissively. "I've met young Korra. She's clever, for what she is. But she's also naïve, sheltered, and in way over her head. I see no reason why my fellows place such faith in her."
"Perhaps, old man…" said Amon, his lips tightly pursed. "That is precisely what you should learn."
"Another thing I'm welcome to be proven wrong about," responded Jilu, before standing up from his chair and making a deep bow. "In any event, I must be off. Tarrlok will be expecting me at this afternoon's Council meeting."
Amon slowly rose to his feet as well, and in his case, it made for a rather more impressive effect.
"Very well. But let me make one thing perfectly clear, before we part," spoke the bloodbender, his voice barely above a whisper and yet cutting like a knife nonetheless. "The man who sat here earlier this morning thought he could use the Equalists as pawns to grab power. For that, he lost everything."
He leaned forward slightly, towering over the older man.
"I choose to believe you are smarter than Lightning Bolt Zolt," he said, his masked face less than a foot from Jilu's own. He could see his reflection looming in the page's glasses. "Don't repeat his mistake."
Those were the last words he chose to deliver before striding out of the office, exiting straight through the front door and onto a crowded street.
For a moment – just for a moment, for he knew he had no more than that – he stood still, basking in the morning sun.
This was a new dawn. A new day.
And with that, he disappeared into the shadows once more.
[-]
That morning, with the obvious exception of the Triple Threats – who hadn't yet learned of Zolt's fate – panic had rapidly set in amongst the various triad headquarters.
The Agni Kais, at least, had one advantage the others didn't: one of their lieutenants, a young man who called himself Ketto, had managed to make it back from the disastrous summit. Since details were scarce at best on what exactly had occurred, he soon found himself besieged by desperate questions from the gang's elders and newcomers alike.
He left out the part where he'd only gotten away by leaving their beloved leader to the mercies of the Equalists and police.
The Council of Smoke and Shadow was meeting now to select Niao's successor; even if she was someday released from prison, a non-bender could never be permitted to lead. This left Ketto to his own devices, for the most part.
Which was how he'd managed to sneak away for a stroll through Republic City Park, searching ardently for an old friend.
Thankfully, the man wasn't difficult to find. As he nearly always was at this time of the morning, he was illegally fishing from the park's river and whistling a merry tune.
For a hobo with no way to tell the time, he kept an impeccable schedule.
"Hey, old buddy!" Gommu called out, waving him over with both hands and inadvertently dropping his fishing pole in the river. "Oh, dagnabbit. And that was my favorite rod, too!"
"It was…a stick," said Ketto, sitting down upon the grass next to the homeless man and smoothing out his crimson robes.
"Ah, but a very good stick," declared Gommu, as if that obviously settled the matter. "Anyway, what can I do ya for?"
"Would it be possible for you to send out another telegram?" asked the firebender, cutting right to the chase. "One that can't be traced back to me."
"The usual order, then?" Gommu replied with a grin. "And the usual payment, I trust?"
Ketto sighed, and placed a heavy satchel in the hobo's waiting hand. Gommu immediately tore open the bag and licked his lips, mouth watering at the prize: two full pounds of spiced komodo-rhino meat.
"Alrighty, can do!" he exclaimed, sealing the satchel back up and tossing it over his shoulder. "I've got my setup in the sewers ready and rarin' to go. You wanna come with, or just give me the message now?"
The firebender made a face. "As…tempting…as that sounds, I need to be getting back soon," he said. "If I'm not there when they finish their meeting, the old ladies might start asking questions."
Instead, he handed a folded piece of paper over to the homeless man, which he quickly opened and read. A few seconds later, he nodded.
"This shouldn't take me too long. I'll get right on it, sir," he told Ketto, already leaping to his feet. Albeit, that might've been because of the cop wandering dangerously nearby.
"You don't have to call me 'sir' anymore. You know that, right?" asked the firebender in a low voice, but Gommu just shook his head.
"Old habits die hard," he murmured, as the two of them walked quickly away from the park. "Neither of us may be in the United Forces anymore…but you're still a general to me."
"Just get that message to my grandfather, alright?" said Ketto, his mouth barely moving. "And quickly."
Gommu tossed off a quick salute, and stuffed the message into the front pocket of his meat-satchel. As he swung around to face the other direction, the only decoration on the bag came into view: a stylized illustration of a white flower, its petals open in bloom.
Ketto watched on as the hobo hurried away, before disappearing through a manhole cover as casually as most would a door.
Underneath his breath, he found himself mouthing the words of his message, which he'd long since memorized. It wasn't difficult, after all. There were only three lines.
To the Grand Lotus.
Avatar Korra is alive.
You are needed in Republic City.