A Cog in the Machine

by Masterdramon

Harmonic Convergence is but a year away. Korra has spent her life training with the Red Lotus, preparing for the day she will restore balance to the world. But a dawning revolution, forged in the name of equality, could spoil their plans. To learn more, Korra takes on a new name and infiltrates Future Industries...but what else awaits her in this brave new city? Eventual Korrasami.

25. Book Two, Ch 4: Foreign Aides, Part 2

A Cog in the Machine – Book Two, Chapter Four: Foreign Aides, Part 2

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.

[-]

On the roof of Republic City police headquarters, beneath the pale moonlight, two waterbenders stood facing each other, ready to strike at any moment.

"Chief Unalaq. A pleasure," said Amon. "It will be an honor to purify such a noted tyrant."

The chief frowned. "The Water Tribes have prospered under my rule, more than they have since before the Hundred Year War," he replied. "A fact you should know well…being a waterbender yourself."

Amon saw little point in denying it, given that he'd been caught metaphorically red-handed.

So instead, he asked, "How did you come to suspect?"

"The locket you just left behind in Tarrlok's private quarters," Unalaq told him. "Did you ever wonder how it came to be in your possession? Tarrlok threw it away, but the Red Lotus retrieved it. Eventually, I ensured it fell anonymously into your hands. But the damage was done. All of the Lotus knows your secret."

The Equalist leader had no outward reaction to this; even without his mask, he'd trained for years to be stoic in the face of any adversity.

He simply tilted his head to the side, and murmured, "Even the Avatar?"

"Korra is a…special case," said the chief, pursing his lips. "Zaheer is free to share the information at any time, of course. But I think he prefers his best asset not to know everything. Getting her bending back from you is her primary objective, after all. The mystery helps keep her motivated."

"Sometimes, I forget that the world's 'savior'…" remarked Amon, placing a vaguely mocking lilt upon the last word. "…is still little more than a child."

"In some ways, yes. In others, my niece continues to…surprise me," Unalaq responded. "But she is not the reason I came here tonight."

"Ah, good. I detest mulling around before getting down to business," spoke the Equalist. He took a couple steps forward, never letting his guard down for an instant. "Now, out with it. I expect you wish to barter for your silence, on the matter of my bending?"

The chief crossed his arms and scowled. "Something like that," he answered. "I had a few points of business to address, but that is the main one."

"I suppose I'm not really in a position to refuse," Amon was forced to admit. "Although, if you do choose to go public with my dirty laundry…I promise the redress will be swift and commensurate."

"What, you expect to blow the whistle on my membership in the Red Lotus? An organization few world governments even acknowledge exists?" said Unalaq with a sneer. "I can't say I'm all too worried about such a wild claim from the mouth of a terrori…"

"Actually, I was referring to your illegitimate ascendance to the throne," interrupted the bloodbender. "Given that you hired the barbarians who attacked the Northern Tribe nineteen years ago, in order to manipulate your brother into destroying a spirit forest."

Unalaq's jaw fell open, while Amon's smile widened by a fraction.

"I have my sources, too," he added coolly.

The chief raised a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat into it, recovering quickly. "Well, in any event…" he attempted to start again. "I think it's in our best interest to cooperate, at least for now. I understand you and Jilu had a sort of accord, before his…untimely arrest. If you're willing, Noatak, I would like to pick up where he left off."

He stepped forward, and held out an arm.

Amon matched his gait, so that the two were only a couple feet apart. He looked down at the proffered hand with something in between curiosity and disdain.

"It's rare that a bender asks for me to touch their flesh," he said.

"I assure you that if you attempted to remove my particular style of waterbending…" spoke the chief. "It would not end well."

The Equalist leader was still for a moment, as if judging the situation. Then, he closed the distance and clasped arms with Unalaq, very briefly.

"For now…I believe we have an understanding," he said. "But I have one additional condition."

Then, without any further warning, his grip tightened around Unalaq's hand like a vice. While both were master waterbenders, there was no question whose physical strength was superior.

"…Never call me Noatak again," finished Amon, before making an acrobatic leap off the rooftop, and disappearing from view.

[-]

It didn't surprise Korra very much that she managed to sleep through dawn, and had to be shaken in order to wake up.

It did surprise – and rather annoy – her that it was Eska doing so, rather than Asami.

"Urrrgh…what the heck, Eska?" she groused, shaking the sleep out of her hair and eyes.

"You requested that we be ready in time to leave at sunrise," said her cousin matter-of-factly. "The sun has now risen."

She gestured at her clothing, a warmer-weather version of the robes she'd arrived in, tinged closer to purple than blue. It was, nevertheless, equally as gloomy.

Korra was willing to bet a hundred yuans Desna was waiting outside the door, wearing something nearly identical.

"Sure, sure, whatever," muttered the Avatar, taking a look around the room for the first time. The two of them were alone, so Asami was probably in her unit's too-small bathroom. "But I meant that I told you not to go wandering into my apartment!"

"In fact, you only asked that we depart from your apartment last night," Eska pointed out. "I can quote the conversation verbatim, if you wish. It was one-eighteen and you and Miss Sato had recently finished engaging in…"

"Okay, we're done here!" Korra interjected hurriedly. "Alright, ground rules…no going in my apartment without my explicit permission, period. And quit staring! Don't you think it's weird to be eyeing your cousin's breasts like that?!"

She tugged her covers up across herself, fully covering her chest.

Eska shrugged her shoulders. "They are large and aesthetically pleasing, if that is an aspect of the human body one happens to find appealing," she said. "Personally, I feel no allure in the female form. I have seen it all my life, and it bores me. My preferred romantic partners are men I can twist to my will and subjugate beneath my every command."

Korra knew she probably shouldn't "go there," but was unable to help herself. "Have you, uh…" she asked delicately. "Ever actually had a romantic partner?"

Her cousin place a finger to her chin and rolled her eyes up toward her forehead, as if this required genuine thought.

Finally, she returned with her own question, "Must they still be alive in order to count?"

At that point, Korra said a mental "Screw it!" to modesty, leapt out from under the covers, and physically pushed Eska out the door. Then she latched and locked it three times, just to be on the safe side.

Since the bathroom door was also closed – and, confirming Korra's suspicions, it sounded like the shower was running – she instead began putting together her outfit for the day.

All the clothing she'd gotten from the Lotus was right out, as virtually all the garments were hand-me-downs from Eska herself. While dressed in them, she would look far too similar to both her cousins for her personal comfort.

Or sanity.

So instead, she turned to her not-inconsiderable collection of items that'd been gifts from Asami. Her kinda-sorta-girlfriend needed little excuse to spoil Korra rotten with clothes, passing along bulging bags full of dresses, skirts, blouses, and far more pairs of shoes than any one person could possibly need.

The largesse embarrassed Korra mightily whenever she stopped to think about it – although when she didn't, she usually just found herself cooing over all the fancy attire.

Growing up on the run, a pretty wardrobe was obviously something far down the list of concerns. Clothing with the Lotus had been simple, plain, practical. Nothing likely to get her noticed.

It was one of the things she probably shouldn't have been indulging in so much while undercover, like pro-bending or overly greasy "faster foods."

…Or what she and Asami had just done last night, added a rueful part of her brain.

Korra quickly shook her head, trying not to think too much about that. The point was, her priorities were still in check. Today's mission would prove it.

So long as that was the case, what was the harm in a little fun here and there, really?

Rather than give too much thought to answering that question, the Avatar forcibly turned her attention back to her outfit. Mako and Bolin had definitely made it sound like there could be some serious fighting ahead, so things like the long, flowing gown Korra had worn for last week's dinner at Kwong's Cuisine (a monthly tradition Asami insisted upon) were non-starters.

Instead, she selected a simple, sleeveless ice-blue top with white trimming, along with darker blue pants and a furred, brown wrap around the waist. Heavy brown boots and bracers along both forearms completed the ensemble.

It was an entirely custom creation, the product of a Southern craftsman who'd happened to be on vacation during the Massacre. Asami had gone to great lengths to obtain something which could remind her of home, without wracking her heart and soul with pain, and present it to her as a surprise.

They'd kissed for a full thirty minutes after Korra first tried it on.

She'd made one small modification to the outfit, with Asami's blessing. She used red ink to add stripes along the white portions, accenting it in certain key places. It was a small bit of calculated rebellion, hinting at her true allegiance.

Korra was just pulling on the second boot when Asami emerged from the bathroom, clad only in a carefully folded towel. The temperature in the room seemed to jump a few dozen degrees – or at least that's how her face felt.

"Sorry, I probably used up more of your hot water than I probably should've," said the non-bender, either unaware of the effect her freshly soaked skin was having on Korra, or else politely ignoring it.

The Avatar swallowed her first few attempts at a reply, none of which would've been intelligible. Instead, she told the other girl, "Don't worry about it. Gotta get running anyway. Hopefully I don't smell too bad."

Suddenly, to her surprise, Asami leaned forward, took a few locks of Korra's hair into her fingers, held them up to her nose, and inhaled slowly.

A satisfied grin spread across her lips as she whispered, "Oh…I don't think you smell bad at all."

"Lemme just…err…uh…wash my face…" mumbled Korra, half-stumbling out of bed as she fought to hide her burning cheeks from view. She managed to make it into the bathroom and close the door while only tripping twice.

The waterbender fell against the sink, catching her suddenly very sharp breaths. By the spirits, what Asami could do to her with just a sentence…

It was embarrassing, really. For someone like her to be brought fallow so…so easily.

But she'd never felt this way before, about a single other person. Not once.

Not even Ghazan; an admitted hopeless crush. She was self-aware enough to realize her feelings for him had been – maybe in some ways, still were – purely a combination of base physical attraction and lack of other options.

Asami was a different story. They'd been "together," for lack of better term, for three months now. And the non-bender could still make her knees quake with a sultry whisper, or a suggestive wink, or even simply a smile.

She turned on the faucet and splashed her face, using a combination of her hands and her bending. Right now, she needed to focus on the mission at hand.

And not whose hand she'd likely be holding for a good portion of it.

By the time Korra exited the bathroom, Asami too was fully dressed. Though she'd also opted for something light and practical, a padded red-and-black number she usually used when racing, somehow she managed to pull it off like a supermodel nonetheless.

Still, the Equalist shock-glove she wore on her right hand, and the extra clipped to her belt, probably would've tempered the girl's overall allure to most people.

They did not for Korra.

"A secret op to take down a terrorist organization," said Asami, as she briefly tested each glove to ensure they were ready for combat. "Alongside an undercover security officer, the Avatar, her pro-bending team, and her two crazy cousins."

Satisfied, she took a few steps to stand at Korra's side, and smiled again.

"Let's roll," she added, as they stepped out of the apartment together.

[-]

Lin Beifong leaned down against the palm of her hand, propped up by an elbow on her desk as she fought to keep her eyes open. They remained drawn inexorably to the clock on the wall, ticking down the final few minutes of her shift.

Ever since being reassigned to desk work, Lin had volunteered for the night shift practically every chance she got. Someone had to do it, and she didn't exactly have a ton of other commitments right now.

Besides…on balance, it meant dealing with less people, and that was always a plus.

But since she also volunteered for her fair share of day shifts, the thing that wound up suffering the most was her sleep schedule. Which, to be quite fair, had never exactly been a thing of beauty. She'd been overworking herself practically since she was out of diapers.

Still, all these days getting by with just a two or three hour nap between shifts were starting to get to her. In a few minutes she'd be off until eight tonight, so after grabbing a quick bite for dinner (or was it breakfast?), she resolved to sleep the rest of the day away.

It wasn't at all like her, but right now she damn well needed it.

Lin drummed her fingers against the desk impatiently, wishing the day shift desk sergeant would hurry up and get here already. Even if her shift was technically over at six, she wouldn't feel comfortable leaving until her replacement arrived for the hand-off.

That was just the sort of person she was.

Even if she could no longer go out into the field – even if she'd been forcibly hobbled out of the career that'd been her life's sole purpose – she was determined to throw everything she had into the one thing she could do. The work was dull, and it was menial, and a fair amount of it could probably be performed by a chittering hog-monkey.

But it was her responsibility. And if there was one thing Lin had never shirked away from in her life…

It was responsibility.

Predictably enough, when the clock struck six o'clock, the next sergeant remained a no-show. Lin sighed, wishing she was surprised. Nivek was always late, usually by five to ten minutes, despite living less than three miles away.

The consistency of his tardiness might actually be impressive, if it wasn't so flaming annoying.

Lin kept her eye on the clock. One minute turned into two. Two turned into five, and five into ten.

Fifteen minutes later she was all but growling with frustration, rubbing her forehead and temples simply to stay away.

"This has to be a record," she said to herself. "And of course he has to pick today, of all days."

For the first time in a while, her gaze left the clock's ticking hands. And, inexorably, was drawn to the temptation of the door. It would be so easy to be a little less responsible…just this once…

And just as the thought crossed her mind, the desk phone began to ring.

The former metalbender answered instinctively, without hesitation. "Republic City Police Department, General Services Office," she spoke into the receiver, her words rote and automatic. "If this is an emergency, please hang up and dial…"

"It isn't an emergency. Although I suppose it could become one."

Lin backed her face up a few inches, unsure whether she'd heard the caller correctly. For one thing, the voice on the other end seemed oddly distorted, as if spoken through some kind of filter. She couldn't even tell if they were male or female.

Still, what little she could make out of their tone sent a chill straight up her spine.

"Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?" she demanded. "You do realize that qualifies as a crime?"

"You misunderstand me. I bear no ill will toward Republic City's finest. I'm simply a concerned citizen, wishing to report a troubling situation."

"Very well," said Lin, her voice turning curt and businesslike. She pulled a pen and paper out of her drawer. "Let's hear it, then."

"The fugitive criminal known as 'Lightning Bolt' Zolt is currently recruiting for a major operation. I cannot reveal who I am, or how I know this. But rest assured that he is mobilizing as we speak."

"We take the security of our sources very seriously," Lin told the voice. "If you wish to remain anonymous, that's fine. But I need more than that if you want us to do something."

"First of all, it cannot be 'us.' You, Lin Beifong. I am entrusting this information to you alone."

The former metalbender scowled. "I never told you my name," she pointed out, speaking low.

"As if I could fail to recognize the last person in this city who can be counted on. The only one who still cares about justice."

"What do you…?" she started to ask, but the voice cut her off.

"The Council fell apart in shambles. Raiko is a feckless coward, and the other two candidates are hopelessly corrupt. Saikhan is Tarrlok's puppet in all but name. And the United Forces are floundering about uselessly without leadership. If the United Republic is to be saved, it needs men and women like you."

"I won't pretend I don't agree with some of those words," Lin couldn't help but admit. "But ultimately irrelevant. Saikhan may be new to leading it, but this is a good department. If you expect someone to move against Zolt, it has to be them. I'm not going to run off half-cocked on my own, like some crazed vigilante."

"If you route this through official channels, the opportunity will be lost. I only know where Zolt is going to be tonight. After that, it will be too late."

"Give me the location and the time, and I'll take it from there," she said. "But I'll do it my way, within the law. There's nothing you can say that'll convince me otherwise."

"Not even if I mentioned one of Zolt's recruits is an agent of your sister?"

Lin froze up. Against her better judgment, she found herself flashing back to the night three months ago – when a representative of Zaofu named Aiwei had visited her office, and informed her that Su had placed an undercover operative inside her city.

Her brow furrowed crossly. They'd never managed to locate that operative, whoever it was. Even in the face of so many other crises, that failure continued to gnaw at her.

Su had no business poking her nose into Republic City police affairs. She had no business poking her nose into anything.

"Oh…and I can sweeten the deal, with another choice piece of information. Though I fear this one will be so outlandish you may not believe me."

Still seething over thoughts of her sister, Lin growled, "Try me."

"The identity of another of the co-conspirators. A teenaged girl who just so happens to be the Avatar."

[-]

Korra wasn't the only member of the "New Team Avatar" who overslept the next morning. Nor even the only one who did so while mostly naked.

But unlike the Avatar…Kuvira wasn't wearing bottoms, either.

The metalbender yawned and stretched in the early morning light, letting the warmth wash over her bare skin. Her head tilted to the side, and her olive-green eyes met two of similar hue.

She didn't let very many people see her smile. Baatar was the exception.

"Spirits, you're beautiful," he whispered. "I'll never get over how lucky I am to be by your side."

"And how long, exactly, were you this close 'by my side'? Enjoy watching me sleep?" she said, a teasing lilt that was very unlike her leaking into her voice.

The engineer blushed a little bit, scooting back a few inches so they were at opposite sides of the not-altogether-wide bed. "Well, now…" he mumbled, a bit awkwardly. "You know I can't see a blasted thing without my glasses. I had to get that close if I expected to…"

She cut him off by capturing his lips. Baatar melted into the kiss, swiftly and eagerly.

Theirs was a relationship where there was never any question as to who should "lead," and that suited Kuvira just fine. Around others, there was a constant pressure to conform to a certain image. To never show weakness or vulnerability; to always have an answer for everything.

With Baatar, she didn't need to worry about that sort of thing. She could joke and laugh and just let go, if only for a little while.

Because no matter how much of her body and soul she bore to him, his opinion of her would never change. To Baatar, she would always be the strongest, smartest, most perfect girl in all the world. The one he'd fallen in love with all those years ago.

The stray thought caused Kuvira to twitch involuntarily, and break the kiss. She thought back to the night they'd parted, three months prior. The first time they'd gone "all the way," as they had last night.

That was also the first time he'd said those three little words. She knew he'd kept them close to his heart for some time before then, but that'd been the first time he'd given them voice.

And, considerate as he was to a fault, Baatar hadn't even pressured her to return them. So she hadn't. They weren't words that came easy to her. They weren't words she'd ever spoken before.

Not even to Su.

But now…

She looked deeply in her boyfriend's eyes as his lips moved. Probably asking if she was alright, given the concern evident in his face, and that she'd been silent for so long.

Filling her own expression with a resolve that seemed to come so easily at every time except this one, Kuvira cut him off by saying, "I love you."

She didn't let him respond, instead pulling him into another slow, sensuous kiss. She'd always been better at expressing herself through actions than words, anyway.

This continued for several minutes – or perhaps several hours, because for once in her life Kuvira wasn't worrying about the clock – before she gradually became aware of an incongruent sound. Pulling out of her reverie with a scowl, she soon realized what it was.

Someone was knocking, rather insistently, on her apartment's front door.

The metalbender shared a silent glance with Baatar, who quickly got the message and dove under the covers. She, meanwhile, pulled on an emerald-green bathrobe, slipped a few strips of metal up the sleeve just in case, and then pried open the door just a crack.

"What is it?" she demanded irritably, ready to slice open an artery if it was a bill collector or door-to-door salesman.

But the interloper was neither of these things. It was the Avatar.

"Sorry to bother you so early, Kuvira," she said, in hushed tones. "We tried to get in contact with you some other way, but your building doesn't have a phone, so…"

"Just get to the point already," Kuvira snapped. "I don't have all day."

Korra leaned even further forward, putting a hand to the side of her mouth. "Mako and Bolin called," she muttered conspiratorially. "Equalist stuff. We need to go meet them, pronto. Sounds like this could be…"

But her voice trailed off, as from this angle she could now catch a glimpse of the room from beneath Kuvira's arm. Unfortunately, the metalbender tended to sleep only with a single, thin blanket, so it was rather difficult to hide the person-sized lump underneath.

"Uh…who's that in your bed?" she asked, without thinking.

Kuvira winced. Baatar, sensing that the jig was up, poked out his head and fumbled for his glasses.

"Oh. Err…good morning," he told her, rather awkwardly.

Korra looked to the bare-chested non-bender, then to Kuvira's hastily thrown-on robe, and then to her uncharacteristically disheveled hair. It took her a few seconds, but eventually, she flushed.

"I, umm…guess I believe you about the boyfriend now," she said.

It took some doing, but Kuvira managed to hold her composure as she replied, "Is this really so important that it justifies stumbling all over my personal business? The last time Bolin called about 'Equalist stuff,' it was because someone in a cheap Amon costume was handing out flyers for Varrick's ridiculous picture-thing."

"Mako sounded pretty sure this was the real deal," answered the Avatar. "But, uh…I didn't realize you weren't alone. Should we really be discussing this in front of…"

"Baatar is completely trustworthy. He would rather die than betray my confidence," Kuvira cut her off. "But…very well. My mission needs to come first. Give us a few minutes."

And without any further warning, she slammed the door shut in Korra's face.

"That was very kind of you to say, my love. It meant a lot to hear," stated Baatar softly, as she slinked off the robe in one motion and quickly began dressing. "Who was that, by the way?"

Without looking at him, Kuvira asked, her tone slightly wry, "Would you believe me if I said…the Avatar?"

If he had a reaction, he hid it well. "Kuvira, if you told me she was the secret love child of Fire Lord Zuko and a purple platypus-bear, I'd believe it. My trust in you is just as strong as the reverse," he said. "But I suppose that means you need to leave now."

"Unfortunately," she confirmed with a nod, as she bent a thin strand of wire around her hair to pull it into an ostrich-ponytail. Her usual hairstyle would take too long to pin up right now. "But there's food in the pantry, and a few books over on that shelf if you get bored. Hopefully I'll have this wrapped up before nightfall, and we can…resume."

"I'll do you one better, my love," responded Baatar, a brief shiver going up his spine at all she'd implied with that one little word. "I'd like to go with you. If…If you'll let me."

"Out of the question," she declared immediately. "Baatar, you're a wonderful engineer, friend, and lover. But you're a thinker, not a fighter. You have no idea how dangerous the Equalists are. And they're not even the worst thing this city has to offer."

For a split second, Kuvira was inside that platinum box again, unable to struggle – to even move her own muscles – as she was puppeteered by her own, traitorous blood.

It passed as quickly as it came. Or at least that's what she told herself.

"I know I won't be much help once the fists and elements start flying," said Baatar, acknowledging her point with a nod. "But there are other ways I can assist you. The invention I just gave you is still a bit…temperamental. I'd like to be there when you test it, in case there're bugs to work out."

With purpose in his movements, the non-bender stood up, pulled on his shirt, and stepped toward his girlfriend.

"And besides…" he added, voice far lower. "I want to stand by your side, Kuvira. For as long as you'll allow me."

Kuvira looked into his pleading eyes, willing her resolve not to break. Normally, her self-discipline was as rigid and unyielding as the metal she controlled. Her heart melted for no one.

Except for the young man standing right in front of her.

"If you come along with me, you agree to do whatever I say," she eventually told him, her tone remaining stern even as she yielded. "If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide. No questions."

"No questions," repeated Baatar, nodding again.

The metalbender let out a long sigh, hoping she wasn't making an enormous mistake. Then, the moment her boyfriend finished dressing, she seized him by the arm and wrenched open the door, revealing a shock-faced Korra.

"I'm adding one more head to the party," she said, in a voice that dared the Avatar to make an issue out of it. "Now, let's get going."

"Oh…" breathed Korra, now scratching the back of her head uneasily as the couple walked past her. "Well, err…about that…"

[-]

Pema stepped gingerly off Oogi's back, holding her belly as the Air Acolyte who'd escorted her looked around awkwardly for a place to "park." Ultimately, he was forced to take back to the sky, and begin circling overhead.

After so many years as an Acolyte herself, she'd learned the hard way just how few places there were in Republic City to safely deposit a sky bison.

The call had come early that morning, to the telephone Tenzin kept by their bedside for political emergencies. He'd answered, of course – and immediately sent half their possessions flying with a massive, airbending-fueled sneeze.

His numerous late nights trying to clean up the messes left in the wake of the Council's dissolution had finally caught up with him, and the airbending master had woken up sick as a wet polar bear-dog. Fever, chills, sweating, severe nausea; the complete package.

And so, though he'd certainly tried to insist he was well enough to make this appointment, Pema had gently but firmly forced him back into bed. As a mother of three – soon to be four – she knew well how to deal with a fussy child, whose reach exceeded their grasp.

Instead, she had taken the call, and she had promised to attend the meeting in his place. She was a smart, capable woman in her own right, even if most of the past ten years had been spent directing those smarts toward a…singular focus.

But if there was a man or woman alive capable of raising a child like Meelo and holding down another career on the side, she'd certainly like to meet them.

In any event, she could handle something like this. It was just a little conversation over tea.

One that happened to be with one of the people she loved most in the world.

She pulled open the door and walked straight toward a table in the center of the shop. Two people were already seated at it. A third chair had already been pulled out for her, and she sat in it gratefully.

"Good morning, Pema," said Katara, smiling kindly. "I'm not sure if you've already met, but…"

Her guest had a hood up, probably to keep onlookers from getting too close a glimpse of his distinctive face. But Pema could see it from the front at this angle, and even though they'd never personally interacted, she would've had to been living under a rock all her life not to recognize it.

"A pleasure," murmured Fire Lord Zuko, as he offered his hand to shake.

[-]

"She is incredibly serious. And she has clearly trained her slave with exceeding care," deadpanned Eska. She turned to Korra and nodded once. "I approve of this companion."

"E…Excuse me?!" Baatar sputtered, taken aback. "I'm Kuvira's boyfriend."

Eska shrugged, a gesture that was mirrored by her twin. "I fail to see the difference," she said.

The six of them were all piled together in Asami's car, which – even given the size and relative luxury of the heiress' vehicle – made for a tight fit. Kuvira and Baatar were crammed awkwardly together in the passenger's seat, while Korra had to make do sandwiched between her cousins in the back.

Trying to change the subject to something a little less awkward, Asami asked her fellow non-bender, "So, uh…you're from the Beifong family, right? That makes you Toph's…"

"Grandson. I'm the eldest of her younger daughter, Suyin," he interjected, his tones surprisingly terse. "But I don't like leaning on the fame of my family. If I can't stand on my own two feet, I don't see the point in standing at all. I expect you feel the same way."

Asami kept her eyes on the road, not answering.

"Point of order. I would also prefer not to be defined by my esteemed lineage," added Desna, one arm raised into the air. "Although I will not pretend I do not enjoy the 'perks' of royal heritage. Do you think father will mind if we use some of his money to retain a proper hairdresser, pedicurist, and personal bard in this hovel of a city?"

"I do not expect we will find any that live up to our standards," his sister replied. "Besides, this is our chance to experience the lives of uncultured fowl-swine. We would be remiss not to take advantage."

"Understood," said the male waterbender with a nod. "Chauffeur girl, once this mission is complete, take us to an establishment that serves sustenance that is filled with grease and incredibly unhealthy."

"Chau…ffeur girl…?" Asami repeated, unsure whether or not she should feel insulted.

Korra, however, jumped in before she could decide. "Her name is Asami. If you want to come with us, you're gonna show her some respect," she told off her cousin. "Got it?"

Baatar turned to his girlfriend – which, given how tightly they were wedged together, took a bit of effort – and muttered, "How long have the two of them…?"

"For as long as I've known them. Frankly, it can get fairly sickening," Kuvira answered the unspoken question. "For the record, Avatar, if you're considering any group bonding rituals such as 'double dating' then you can forget it right now."

Asami didn't say anything, simply flushing a little bit, but Korra practically convulsed in her seat.

"Y…You don't have to tell the whole world, Kuvira!" she exclaimed. "You already blew my cover with your boyfriend three seconds after we met, you have to throw in this too?"

"But, err…" said Baatar, frowning. "I mean, it's obvious, isn't it? I don't see how anyone could manage not to see it."

"Admittedly, we had the unfair advantage of witnessing the evidence firsthand," spoke up Eska. "Said evidence was remarkably explicit. If just slightly lopsided."

At this, Korra and Asami shared a single, brief glance, then looked furiously away from each other. The silent message was clear: neither of them was willing to ask which of the two Eska was talking about.

"Alright, let's discuss something a little less…personal," Baatar suggested, after a few moments had passed. "I'm still not entirely clear on the mission parameters. I only know the Equalists are involved."

"That's pretty much all we know, too," responded Asami, grateful for the segue. "We think the Equalists might be tapping into the phone lines, so we try to save most of the details for when we're together in-person. We're meeting Mako and Bolin – that's the other two members of our team…"

"I still object to calling it a 'team,' for the record," Kuvira cut in.

"…At the Republic City Park in about half an hour," the non-bender continued on, as if she hadn't been interrupted. "They hear things the rest of us don't. They used to be associated with the Triads, way back when…I'm guessing one of those old connections bore fruit."

"We've been keeping ties on those masked bozos all this time. They've been making moves, even if they've avoided anything big since the attack three months ago," said Korra. "Recruiting more chi-blockers, building up their resources, weakening the Triads even further. Knew it was only a matter of time before Amon slipped up."

She punctuated this point by slamming a fist into her open palm.

"This is all making my head spin. The most intrigue I'm used to is fighting over whether or not dinner should be vegetarian. Huan changes his preferences every other week," remarked Baatar, his voice low and even. "Well…that, and…"

He didn't finish his statement, but one look into his eyes and Kuvira seemed to know. "I'd forgotten to ask," she murmured back. "Is there any word on Aiwei?"

"Not a single one," he told the metalbender, shaking his head. "It's strange. Once he escaped Republic City, he seemed to just…vanish. Without a trace."

Kuvira was quiet for a little while, taking this in. Then, abruptly, she glanced back at Korra and declared, "That reminds me. I should probably also mention that Avatar Korra is a devoted member of the Red Lotus. Just so that we're all on the same page."

The Avatar's mouth hung open, but all Baatar offered in return was a whispered, "…I see."

"In the interests of full disclosure," said Eska tonelessly. "Desna and I are also members in good standing."

Korra and Asami shared another look, even briefer this time. But the meaning behind it couldn't be clearer.

This was going to be a long day.

[-]

Lin's shaking hand gripped tightly onto the receiver, trying to process what she'd just heard.

"If the Avatar is still out there somewhere…" she responded to the voice. "They'd be twelve years old at most. Do you really expect me to believe…"

"You misunderstand me, Lin Beifong. I speak of Avatar Korra."

If it was possible, Lin would've gone even more slack-jawed.

"Her death was faked. For the past twelve years she's been very much alive, surviving on the run. Unfortunately, you could say she fell in with the…wrong crowd. Now she works with petty criminals to subvert your city. She's this world's gravest threat, instead of its greatest hope."

"Alright, let's just say for the sake of argument I actually believe all this hippo-bull," said Lin. "You expect me, one woman stripped of her bending, to go up against the most powerful person in the world alone? I'm good, bub, but I'm not stupid."

"You will if you don't want your sister sinking her claws into her. Think what Suyin could do with a fully realized Avatar at her beck and call."

"Who exactly is involved in this?" demanded the former metalbender. "The Avatar, Su's agent, Zolt…anyone else?"

"It's a motley bunch. A couple common street thugs. Two northerners. One of Suyin's sons. Oh…and the heir to the Sato estate. That's interesting."

"Hiroshi Sato's daughter?" asked Lin skeptically. "Are you sure?"

"I'm watching them make their plans as we speak."

Lin stood up out of her chair.

"Where are you right now?" she said, practically hissing into the receiver. "If time is as short as you claim…!"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that. As we already established, my anonymity is paramount. I can't tell you where they are right now…but I can certainly tell you where they're going to be."

The former chief sunk back into her chair, gripping her face. Eventually, seeing no other choice, she found herself muttering, "Alright…spill it. All the details you can offer."

Her mysterious caller answered readily.

"They'll be meeting Zolt at sundown tonight, near Central City Station. That should be your best chance to end this swiftly. Before Zolt, Suyin, or someone else can twist the most powerful weapon on the planet toward their own, nefarious purposes."

"You still haven't answered my earlier question," she pointed out. "What the heck I'm supposed to do about it. I wish I could still say I can solo a group like that. A year ago it would've been no problem. But…"

"You sell yourself short, Lin Beifong. Even without your earthbending, you're cunning, resourceful, and physically adept. I have every confidence you'll figure something out."

"Nice to know I'm so popular with the anonymous, disembodied voice crowd," she said to herself, dryly.

"You are, of course, free to disbelieve me. Or to try to involve the rest of the department, though I assure you that will backfire. But whatever happens next is then on your head. You will live with the consequences. Republic City, however…may not."

The line abruptly went dead.

Lin sat there for several minutes, still gripping the receiver, her fist clenching and unclenching around it. Everything she'd just heard still rang in her ears, pulling her mind in at least ten different directions.

But one of those directions, rationally or not – and she had enough presence of mind to acknowledge it was mostly "not" – was far more intense than any of the others. Like a blazing sun, it overwhelmed and pushed down all others.

And that was the memory of everything Su had done. Everything she'd never once faced the consequences for. How much worse could she be, if even at this second, her agent was subverting the Avatar to her screwed-up "do what you want, damn the consequences" philosophy?

Lin's calloused fingers ran along the scar on her cheek.

Without fully considering it, without even being fully aware of her reasoning, the former chief realized that she'd made a decision.

She stood up from her desk, fished a key from her pocket, and unlocked the bottom drawer. Here, she kept a few satchels ready-filled with all the equipment one might need in the field. Lin grabbed two, just in case.

Then she wrenched her eyes away from the clock – now reading almost half an hour past six – and slipped out of the building.

A few minutes later, Officer Nivek stumbled toward the desk, looking harried. "Oh gosh, Lin, I'm so so so sorry I'm late," he stammered, as if that actually helped anything. "There was this accident over by my apartment and…"

He adjusted his overlarge glasses, realizing she wasn't there. Looking at the time, he couldn't honestly blame her, but she'd never failed to wait for him before even when any reasonable person would've gone home.

Ultimately, however, he shrugged and took his seat, fishing out and getting started on a big ream of paperwork.

The funny thing was that if Lin had departed just a minute later, or Nivek had arrived just a minute sooner, the man who snuck past their shared desk that morning would've never made it to the cell blocks beyond.

[-]

Mako stood by the pond in Republic City Park, his arms crossed and his foot tapping impatiently.

"Y'know, being all broody and scowl-y isn't gonna make the girls get here any faster," said Bolin, who was busy feeding some turtle-ducks by the water's edge. "Seriously though…do you, like, practice that smolder? Is it learnable? Can I learn it?"

The firebender sighed heavily. "I'm just anxious, bro," he responded. "This is the biggest lead we've gotten on Amon in three months. And it's risky as heck. If anything goes south, it's on my head."

"Yeah, but if it goes north you get credit too!" Bolin exclaimed, without turning around. "Err…that makes sense, right? If bad stuff means something is 'going south,' then 'going north' has to mean it's all good. Or is that kinda offensive? Korra's from the south and I know that's sort of a sensitive subject…"

"Focus, Bolin. And not on turtle-ducks," Mako chided his brother, a bit more harshly than he'd been intending. "Anyway, those three don't know Zolt like we do. If I could get away with it being just you and me, I would. But Korra would never let me hear the end of it…and Kuvira would probably literally kill me."

"Plus, we can't really turn down the extra muscle," the earthbender pointed out.

Mako was forced to nod in agreement. They had no idea how many Equalists they might wind up facing tonight, and Korra and Kuvira were probably the two heaviest hitters on their "team." Not that Asami was any kind of slouch, either, even without bending.

(Also, she was the only one of them who owned a car.)

The two of them were under a bridge that sat in a secluded area of the park, some distance away from the hustle and bustle around the memorial statues or speaker's corner. It made for a good location to discuss clandestine business without drawing attention, and they'd used it as a meet-up spot on several occasions.

Right now, the only person anywhere near them was a homeless man, who was a regular fixture in this park. Bolin offered him a cheery wave, which the man returned without hesitation, before diving back into the bush he called home.

"You make friends in the strangest of places, bro," said Mako, not altogether disapprovingly.

"Gommu's alright. Did you know he used to be a telegraph operator with the United Forces?" Bolin remarked conversationally. "Got laid off when all the ships switched over to radios, but he's not bitter about it or anything."

The firebender raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Even though he's…you know…"

"A wise and noble hobo?" his brother finished for him, his pointer finger raised up.

"Erm…yeah, that," stated Mako. "Can only speak for myself, but I couldn't wait to get off the streets. Toza's attic may be cramped, but it beats a bush."

Bolin shrugged his shoulders. "We all got different priorities, bro," he replied. "And different ways of dealing with stuff. Gommu didn't really have a choice, so he made the most of it. Same reason we started rolling with the Triple Threats in the first place."

"And now I've got us jumping back into that life," Mako continued to mutter, shaking his head. "We got out and now I've dragging us all right back in. Not even for a big stack of yuans this time."

"Hey, this is like…ten thousand times more important than some silly yuans!" said Bolin. "Bro, we're helping out the Avatar! We'll go down in history as the guys who stepped up, when the world needed her most. Doesn't that affect you at all?"

Mako let out a deep breath, leaning back against the bridge.

"Maybe. Honestly, I try not to think about it too much," he explained, his eyes angled toward the sky. "I mean…we're not exactly the 'go down in history' kind of guys. I dunno how comfortable I really am with that."

"Sokka and Katara were just normal villagers, who happened to find Aang in that iceberg," the earthbender reminded him. "Suki was just one of the Kyoshi Warriors. And sure, Zuko was a prince and Toph was super-loaded…but they ran away from that stuff when they joined Team Avatar."

He approached Mako, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"The first Team Avatar was a pretty raggedy bunch. Didn't stop them from doing great things," he added with a smile. "Don't see why it should be any different for the new one."

Mako sighed again, but ultimately returned the smile. "Y'know, Bolin…" he said. "You're a lot wiser than people give you credit for. Me included, a lot of the time."

"That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me, bro," murmured the earthbender, now peering off into the distance. "Although…maybe I need my wisdom eyes checked? Cuz I'm pretty sure that's the girls over there, but…"

He placed a hand above his eyes and squinted.

"Does it look like the group kinda…doubled, to you?"

[-]

"I've often wondered," spoke Katara, as she sipped from her cup. "How Iroh would've felt about the Jasmine Dragon being franchised. It was his successor's idea."

"Kori was always a lot more…ambitious than my uncle. Though perhaps I shouldn't speak so warmly about someone who once tried to assassinate me," said Zuko, though his tones were remarkably light and conversational. "Ah well, it happens to the best of us. And really, she's done right by the name, for the most part."

"I'm not sure if it really counts as a 'franchise,' does it?" Pema asked. "There's just the original in Ba Sing Se, this one, Omashu and Yogan…"

"You're forgetting the one that just opened in the Northern Water Tribe," Katara told her. "Unalaq resisted for years, but there's only so long you can keep a bunch of freezing tribesmen away from nice, hot tea."

It was a thoroughly surreal experience, having tea in the middle of the city alongside two of the most famous individuals in modern history.

Sure, one was her mother-in-law, and the other had been best friends with her husband's father. But she'd known Katara for so long that it was hard to think of her that way – as opposed to the kindly old woman she swapped recipes with and who spoiled her children rotten. And as for Zuko…

Well, by the time she'd come into the picture, Katara and Zuko had already had their falling out following the Southern Massacre. Pema didn't have all the details – and wasn't sure she wanted to – but she knew the waterbender hadn't agreed with some of the White Lotus' policies in the immediate aftermath.

Still, they seemed relatively cordial now. So Pema decided to just come out and say, "You said this was urgent over the phone. I know you'd probably prefer to tell Tenzin yourself, but…"

"If my boy's sick, it can't be helped. Unless you've got some frozen wood frogs for him to suck on, of course," responded Katara. "But yes, this matter is certainly of vital importance. He will want to hear as soon as we're done here, I'm certain."

Pema raised an eyebrow, but ultimately decided to ignore the part about the frogs.

Instead, she voiced what seemed an obvious complaint: "Why are we talking about this in public, then? Wouldn't it be better somewhere that's harder to overhear?"

She looked around at the shop, which was absolutely packed and bustling.

Underneath his hood, Zuko slowly shook his head. "You have a lot to learn about skullduggery, Pema," he said, his lip twitching. "If this place was mostly empty, we'd be far easier to eavesdrop upon. So long as we don't draw attention to ourselves, any conversation will be lost in this din. Hence why I'm not advertising the scar."

The non-bender nodded, supposing that made sense.

"Now, I think it's best I start. We may not have much time," he continued on, his words grave and purposeful. "The short version is that nearly everything we know about the Southern Massacre is wrong. It was an elaborate trick, played upon the entire world, and we fell for it. Even those of us who were there."

"What do you…?" Pema started, but Katara cut her off.

"Avatar Korra is still alive, Pema," she whispered, almost breathless. Simply speaking those words out loud seemed to have brought her nearly to tears. "We're not sure yet how they faked her body twelve years ago, but it has to have been a fake. Because there's a seventeen-year-old girl in this city right now who looks just like her, and who – at least at one point – was capable of three types of bending."

"At…one point?" repeated the Acolyte.

"This intelligence all comes from my grandson. He's been keeping tabs on her, to the best of his ability, and for the past three months she's only bent water," explained Zuko. "But that makes sense. Her cover here is a day laborer from the north, working at Future Industries. Not to mention…"

He slid a newspaper onto the table, opened to the sports section. A black-and-white photo at the top of the page featured three uniformed players, raising a trophy in triumph.

The lone female among them was circled in red ink.

Pema read the caption, unfamiliar with the team; she didn't follow pro-bending much.

"Newcomer team the Republic City Fire Ferrets clinch the title match against reigning champions the White Falls Wolfbats," she said quietly. "Pictured: Mizore, Bolin, and team captain Mako."

She stared piercingly at the young woman, whose mouth was open with what she could only imagine to be a whooping holler of victory. She certainly didn't look like the promised savior of the world.

And yet…

"Iroh spoke with Korra directly, confirmed her identity. And one thing is clear above all others," Zuko went on. "She loathes the White Lotus, with every fiber of her being. He was rebuffed before he could learn much more, but he has his suspicions. Suspicions I happen to share."

He ran one of his wrinkled fingers over the picture, tracing the circle around "Mizore." The circle made of bright, blood-red ink.

"Only one group had something to gain with the carnage that night. And we know they were there. I fought several of their number personally," muttered the firebender. "The Red Lotus."

"I…don't think I've heard of them," said Pema, frowning.

"I doubt you would've, if Tenzin isn't keen on bringing home shop-talk. And even then…he's never been a member of the Order himself, just worked closely with them," Katara replied. "In a nutshell, they're a rogue group that spun off from the White Lotus, in the name of what they call 'freedom.' In practice, their philosophy is closer to anarchy. Pure chaos."

"We all thought Korra had died, in the crossfire between Red and White," added Zuko. "Now, I think I've finally connected the dots. They instigated the Massacre, entirely so they could swoop in and 'save' her. Raise her among their fellows, indoctrinate her into their beliefs. Until the Avatar became their tool to destroy the world, rather than save it."

"That…That's awful," Pema mumbled to herself, clutching at her chest. "To do that to a little girl…"

As a mother, it was impossible for her heart not to go out to the child.

It took her a few moments to realize Katara's hand was gripping onto hers, offering comfort. She turned toward the elderly waterbender, who was now smiling warmly.

"But now, my dear…" she spoke softly. "There is hope."

"How so?" asked Pema, who couldn't remember ever hearing anything less hopeful.

"We don't know exactly why Korra is in Republic City. According to Iroh, she's been clashing with the Equalists with some regularity, so perhaps the Red Lotus sent her after them," said Zuko. "But whatever the cause, she's here. She's finally away from their influence. And perhaps…that means she can be reasoned with."

Katara slowly shook her head. "I taught Korra, all those years ago. I knew her well. Her death…until last night, I considered it my greatest failure," she declared. "And I will tell you this, Zuko: even at five years old she was, without a doubt, the single most stubborn individual I've ever met in my long life."

"I didn't say getting through to her would be easy," Zuko sighed, one hand placed wearily over his face – or more specifically, his scar.

"But…" he finished, after a brief but noticeable pause. "Doing the right thing so rarely is."

[-]

Introductions were, largely by necessity, terse and awkward.

Baatar appeared to react to Bolin and Mako the way he had to the twins – which was to say that anyone who wasn't named Kuvira earned, at best, an air of polite indifference. Eska's and Desna's facial expressions never changed, but that seemed to be normal.

Mako was cordial to everyone, as always. But Bolin…

It'd been three minutes, and the earthbender's jaw was still hanging somewhere close to the ground.

"B…B…B…B…B…Boy…friend…?" he squeaked, his voice very high.

Baatar sighed irritably. "For the thousandth time, yes," he said. "Is it really so difficult to believe? I'd be the first to admit I'm the luckiest man on the planet for it, but still…"

The metalbender adopted the expression of someone trying very hard not to feel complimented.

"I believe I have deduced the reason for this one's strange behavior," Desna cut in, sidling up next to the engineer. "Perhaps he was unaware until this moment that Kuvira was already involved in a romantic coupling, and harbored amorous intentions toward her. In which case…it is appropriate for you to claim victory. Congratulations."

He held up one arm at a right angle, then shook it twice, moving his billowy sleeve enough to expose his hand. It was clenched in a fist.

"Come, fellow male," he added, still staring straight forward. "Accept the requisite quantity of 'bro cred,' and complete the bonding ritual."

Baatar looked up and down several times, his eyes moving between Desna's face and his hand, before very awkwardly grasping the fist with his palm and shaking it.

That seemed to be enough to satisfy Desna, who returned to his usual spot at his sister's right.

"So, umm…" said Asami, attempting to shift the topic. "What's the plan, Mako? I know there're a few more of us than you were expecting, but if this is as serious as you made it sound, more hands on deck can't hurt. Can it?"

The firebender crossed his arms and frowned. "Wouldn't necessarily say that," he answered. "Too many cooks in the kitchen, I think is the phrase. But we need to play the tiles we're dealt with. If this comes down to a fight, what can you guys do?"

"Me? Honestly, not that much," Baatar had to admit. "I'm an engineer by trade. I know some basic self-defense – you sorta have to, growing up with three metalbending little brothers – but that's it. I'm here to support Kuvira, and supply her with tech."

He bent down and scrutinized the Equalist glove around Asami's right hand. "I've also been eyeing this since we got in the Satomobile," he went on, adjusting his glasses slightly. "If I could sit down with it for a few hours, I think I could improve its efficiency."

"Really now?" asked Asami, seemingly torn between looking skeptical and impressed. The conflict remained in her face for a few moments, before she grabbed at the second glove still hanging from her hip, and handed it out to him. "Here… take my spare. I can survive without dual-wielding, if it means you've got something to defend yourself."

"That's very gracious of you," said Baatar, bowing his head. Maybe it was because they were both non-benders, or their shared mechanical background, but Asami seemed to be the only one of them besides Kuvira he genuinely respected.

"Alright…what about you two?" Mako turned his question over to the twins.

Eska and Desna shared a protracted, piercing look. Then the latter responded, "We can waterbend."

For a few moments, nobody said anything. Then, speaking up for the first time since he'd been utterly dumbfounded by Kuvira's "situation," Bolin scratched his head and babbled, "Do you, uh…have any…any more details? Cuz…umm…"

Eska nodded her head once, though it was a jerky and unnatural-looking movement, like a doll's head bobbing up and down.

"I am able to elaborate," she declared, before emphatically clearing her throat. "Ahem…we can waterbend well."

[-]

Chief Unalaq strolled through the cell blocks of the Republic City Police Department, hidden from view by a pair of obedient wind spirits.

He'd always had a way with spirits, ever since he was a boy, and as a result had a number of unique ones he could come to call on when the situation demanded it. These particular ones, vaguely similar to ostrich-horses in shape, were spirits of the wind itself, more naturalistic in their manipulation of air currents than human airbenders or even sky bison.

By swirling around him in just the right way, they were able to block his entire body from sight. A casual observer would only see slight disturbances in the air, too brief and blurred to register as noteworthy.

Effectively, Unalaq was invisible.

But while the inmates and occasional guards couldn't catch a glimpse of him, the reverse was not true. And what he saw sickened him to his core.

Unalaq wasn't precisely the same sort of radical as Zaheer or the rest, who would object to the very notion of a prison on philosophical grounds. He could almost hear the non-bender now, reciting scripture from some long-dead guru about how restraining a person's body was also repression of their very soul.

The heavy bars and padlocked doors did disgust him, but for different reasons. Here, in a place of sleek, processed iron – or platinum, in the wing that housed metalbending criminals – they were as far as one could be from anything remotely spiritual.

He supported the Red Lotus, not because he had anything against governments in general…but because, inevitably, the forward march of society they represented took humanity farther and farther from its roots.

Man, in his natural state, was not all that dissimilar from a spirit. Both flitted about, living moment to moment, simply experiencing. But the fundamental difference was that humans, unlike spirits, bound themselves to the concept called "time."

Spirits could understand what time was, on an intellectual level, but they would never experience it. They could die, but only by taking mortal forms and being slain. Otherwise, each and every one – from the tiniest little wisp to the grand spirits that embodied the sun or the stars – was functionally immortal.

But men were held hostage by time at every moment, from birth until death. Each of their limited seconds on this planet spent doing one thing, was a second not spent doing something else.

It was for this reason that man had eventually begun to form communities, then societies, and finally governments. The ravages of time could not be defeated, but they could be staved off most efficiently when humans worked as a group.

Spirits didn't have those things. They could form friendships, even fall in love. But the idea of banding together under some kind of shared contract or covenant? The very idea was foreign to them.

There were no spirit kings or queens. No spirit presidents. Spirits didn't need a leader to tell them what they should be – they simply were.

And those small but crucial differences, over the centuries, had driven a wedge between humans and spirits that seemed like it could never be bridged. Until one being came along who united the best of both within himself.

Wan and Raava had the potential, together, to break down those last few barriers that kept humans and spirits from living as one. Instead, they had made things so much worse.

By driving the spirits out of the material world, by sealing shut the portals that allowed free passage from one realm to the next, the First Avatar had forever consigned the humans and spirits alike to slow and separate decay.

Both groups had so much to offer one other; were each other's natural companions and partners. Now, nearly ten thousand years had passed with each in isolation, and that decay was evident in every last grain of sand that strewed the planet.

Many parts of the Spirit World were corroded, crumbling. He'd seen them, in his dreams and meditations. With their incursions onto the material plane so limited, many spirits were lost, devoid of purpose.

Spirits of forests and mountains and rivers could barely touch the formations they embodied. Spirits of justice had no wrongs to right. Spirits of song had no one to play for, or alongside.

Even the great knowledge spirit Wan Shi Tong, He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things, had turned insular, refusing to share his collected works after being burned by greedy humans – sometimes literally – one too many times. Unalaq couldn't honestly blame him.

Because any rot in the Spirit World was only a reflection of what'd taken root, a thousandfold, in the material realm.

Over the past ten millennia, unconstrained by any concerns with maintaining spiritual balance and harmony, mankind had run rampant across the land. In the name of "progress," pollution choked the skies and infected the oceans. Vast, natural vistas were gradually being supplanted by towering cities. A thousand pointless wars had stained the ground with blood.

And all of this had grown so much worse in the wake of the Hundred Year War, as tepid steps toward industrialization finally overtook the entire planet in a wave of revolution. Human society was now advancing at such a pace that it was all but impossible to imagine a return to the way things once were.

But one way or another, Unalaq would make it happen. Even if he had to do it by force.

Finally, after walking past everything wrong with the modern world for longer than he could keep track, the chieftain arrived at his destination.

This long hallway ended with a single cell, watched over by a single guard at all times. He was focused on nothing else, from the minute his shift began to the minute he was relieved, as a security measure.

Of course, those measures hadn't been designed with an invisible assailant in mind. Silently, Unalaq froze the water from his hip-skin into a lance of ice, and struck the guard as hard as he could at the back of the head.

The guard crumpled, instantly unconscious. Leaving the waterbender alone with his quarry.

"My, you certainly have a way of introducing yourself," said Jilu, his tone casual. "I can't see you with these eyes, but I know it's you, Unalaq."

With a wave of his hand, the chieftain dismissed both of the wind spirits. He gazed toward the elderly man for a moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, he bowed low. "It is an honor, Dark Avatar," he spoke softly.

[-]

"This all seems…pretty risky," said Asami, frowning slightly. "I know you guys know him a lot better than we do, but based on what we saw at the summit, Zolt doesn't exactly scream…trustworthy."

"He isn't," Mako confirmed with a quick shake of the head. "But I'll tell you guys what I told Bolin. Right now, Zolt's got nothing. This is his one chance to climb back to the top of the underworld. If he screws us over, he screws himself over just as much."

"Enlightened self-interest. Frankly, it's probably the only motivation worth trusting," replied Kuvira. "Very well, I'm convinced. I vote we move forward."

Bolin looked a little taken aback. "Kinda surprised you're so gung-ho about this, Kuvira," he remarked. "You're usually the one who's lecturing us about how 'morality is an absolute' and 'compromising with evil leaves one no better than that evil' and…y'know. That kinda stuff."

The metalbender crossed her arms, looking stern – not that she very often looked otherwise.

"I assure you that, once we've accomplished our mission, I will do everything in my power to turn Zolt over to the proper authorities," she said. "But quite frankly, without his bending or position, he is a much smaller wind-fish than Amon. Zolt wants the power to bring Republic City to its knees. Right now, Amon actually has it."

"Brilliant and practical," added Baatar obsequiously, squeezing at his girlfriend's hand. "I honestly fail to see why Kuvira isn't leading your little 'team.' Still, I'll defer if she does."

The twins shared a look. "Truly, she has trained him well," commented Desna.

"Very much so," Eska responded. "I think I would like to do likewise."

Then, with surprising speed, she moved forward and seized both Mako and Bolin by the ear.

"You both appear to be romantically unattached, and are not unattractive in face or form," she told the brothers. "Which of you is interested in being subjugated beneath my heel?"

Mako immediately wrenched himself out of her grip. "Yeah, I don't think so," he said. "Not into that kinda thing."

"I…might be?" gasped out the still somewhat heartbroken Bolin. "I mean…what's that actually entail, exactly?"

Eska stepped back, but maintained her hold on Bolin's right ear the whole time.

"You will see," she answered, and did not elaborate any further.

"Korra, you've been pretty quiet this whole time," stated Asami, who elected to ignore that rather strange exchange. "What do you think? Should we go for it?"

The Avatar, indeed, had been uncharacteristically silent since they'd met up with Mako and Bolin, letting the introductions, planning, and vaguely uncomfortable romantic hijinks pass by without comment.

That was because, for whatever reason, her mind had chosen now to really come to terms with everything she'd learned yesterday.

"Sorry…I know my focus should be on the mission. And I'm still all in, don't get me wrong," she said. "It's just that I found out something last night, and it's…hard to put out of my mind."

Asami, who realized immediately what she was alluding to, sidled up next to the waterbender and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"See…it's like this," she continued on, unable to hold back her tongue. "I found out my parents might still be alive. That they might've survived the Massacre."

Kuvira cupped her chin thoughtfully with her hand. "I see…" she murmured. "So you've finally realized the Red Lotus have been lying to you."

"That's not how it went down!" exclaimed Korra, glaring at the metalbender. "For one thing, it was a Red Lotus member who told me this in the first place! My uncle…Eska's and Desna's father."

"So Chief Unalaq secretly answers to the Red Lotus. Interesting…" said Kuvira, her lip curling. "I'll be noting that for later."

Korra silently kicked herself.

"Umm…Korra? What's this 'Red Lotus' thing?" Bolin asked innocently.

The Avatar did a double-take, realizing what she'd said. In her zeal, she'd completely forgotten that – thanks to Kuvira's remark in the car – Mako and Bolin were, ironically, the only individuals here not aware of her deepest, darkest secret.

"We can talk about all that later," Asami jumped in, for which Korra was eternally grateful. "For now…once tonight's mission is over with, we can help you look into things a little further. All of us."

"Thanks, Asami," she whispered back, staring into the other girl's brilliant, lime-green eyes. "But I've got a feeling there's only one way I'll really get to the bottom of this. And I don't have any way of getting into contact with them right now."

Asami and Kuvira knew immediately who she was talking about. Eska and Desna might've been able to guess, given the limited information their father had provided them. Mako, Bolin, and Baatar were clueless.

Regardless, however, Korra didn't say any more on subject. Instead, she took a deep breath, and then turned to Mako.

"Alright, my head's back in the game. One hundred percent," she said, repeating words she'd told him as team captain more than once. "And yes, we need to do this. We've gone too far to turn back now."

"I agree with the Avatar," Baatar offered. "At minimum, it can't hurt to go to the meeting location, hear this 'Zolt' out, and then make our final decision. Even if it's a trap, this is clearly a formidable group."

"Then I guess we're all more or less on the same page," declared the firebender, getting to his feet and stretching his arms. They'd all been sitting at the water's edge for quite some time. "We all know the place and the time, so let's meet back up there."

Mako let out a deep breath – the kind that signaled he was hoping he wasn't making a huge mistake.

He was hardly the only one feeling that way.

"Okay, 'New Team Avatar,'" he said, using Bolin's title unironically for the very first time. "One way or another, it all goes down tonight."

[-]

Jilu leaned back against his hard prison cot, looking upon the Water Tribe chief with a smile of vague bemusement.

"You really are quite something, aren't you?" he asked, without expecting an answer. "There are very few humans who've ever been worthy enough to curry my respect. But you, Zaheer, and dear Noatak are certainly among them."

"I am flattered. Genuinely," spoke Unalaq, his tone very nearly reverential. Given who he was in the presence of, however, the deference seemed warranted. "Now, I have performed my business in this city with Korra, and with Amon. Before I leave…yours is the last affair I must settle."

"Oh? Do you intend to alter our deal, Unalaq?" said the Dark Avatar, smiling one of those sweet, old-man smiles. The only hint that it wasn't sincere was that it didn't quite reach his squinted eyes.

The waterbender quickly shook his head. "No. Not by any means," he assured the other "man" – for lack of a better term. "I am deeply honored that you've chosen me to host your power, once this vessel…expires."

"Which may come sooner than you think," replied Jilu, his tone remarkably conversational given the subject matter. "Here, take a peek."

He held up one, wrinkled hand to the bars of his cell. Unalaq leaned forward to get a better look.

At first, he didn't see what the old man was getting at. The skin was flaking a bit, but that was normal – if a little gross – at Jilu's age.

Then, he realized that the skin beneath the flakes was turning black.

"This body is rotting away. It cannot contain the essence of Vaatu for much longer," explained the Dark Avatar, his voice still light and pleasant. "Even in his prime, Jilu was a spy, not a warrior. And he is many years past that point. No, I have another week or two at most."

Unalaq's eyes briefly widened. He'd known the truth, vaguely; had heard an abridged version from Zaheer a few months prior. This conspiracy was a constant game of cat-owl and rhino-mouse, with Unalaq, Zaheer, and Jilu all convinced they knew just a little bit more of the truth than the others.

Of course, only one of them was possessed by the most powerful spirit of all time.

"I knew you were dying. But I didn't realize it was so soon," said the chieftain. He kept his voice level, trying not to sound too eager. "If time is so short, however…then should we not consider…?"

Jilu held up a hand to interrupt him. "I know what you're about to say, Unalaq, and it's a very kind – if entirely self-motivated – offer. But the answer is no," he told the waterbender. "You will become the Dark Avatar when I determine you are ready for it. For now, Jilu still has his part to play. I may only have a handful of days remaining, but I will make the most of them."

"From a prison cell?" asked Unalaq. "I apologize, but I fail to see how much good you can do for the world from here."

"Zaheer brought up the same objection. So I'll tell you what I told him," Jilu stated calmly. "I remain confined only because I wish to be. These three months have not been spent idly, I assure you. Would you like me to demonstrate?"

The Dark Avatar didn't wait for a response. Instead, he took a lotus position on the floor, centering his elderly, fragile body. He breathed in and out several times, his eyes closed.

When he opened them again, they were blazing a fiery orange.

Simultaneously, a great number of heavy sounds erupted all throughout the hall. Unalaq looked back, and saw what'd transpired.

In unison, every other person in the entire cell block, prisoner and guard alike, had fallen to their knees.

"Are you ready to march, my army?" said Jilu, his voice sugary-sweet.

What sounded off in response appeared to be half the criminals in Republic City's history…and more than a few police officers, too.

At what they called out was, to a man and a woman, the very same five words, echoing down the halls like a symphony of abject horror.

"We hear and obey, master!"

Jilu turned back to Unalaq, and for the first time that day, wore a face that looked far more spirit than human.

"The time is almost ready, my dear Unalaq," he whispered, Vaatu's menacing baritone now merged with Jilu's high-pitched squeak. "For the Night of a Thousand Stars to fall upon the land."