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.

30. Book Two, Ch 8: Endings, Part 2

A Cog in the Machine – Book Two, Chapter Eight: Endings, 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.

[-]

"That…That makes no sense," said Korra, throwing her arms out incredulously. "The Avatar…is a bender. That's the whole point."

"Don't you think I know that?" asked Iraki through thin lips. "I don't know why, okay? But that's how it's always been. I was born a non-bender, never thought there was a chance I could be…"

Her reincarnation swallowed, their eyes turning askance again.

"There've been other times when the world's gone without an Avatar. When Aang was frozen in ice…or when Kyoshi went unrecognized, an abandoned orphan on the streets," they continued. "Sometimes it makes people turn inwards. Wonder if the spirits have given up on them. This time, they thought it might really be true."

"Your future doesn't exactly scream 'spiritual,' that's for sure. I mean, you just…killed one. Do you have any idea how rare that is?" Korra replied. "But…hold up. You said you got discovered at age five, right? That's not that long. Most Avatars don't even find out until they're sixteen."

"Well, yeah. If you don't count the seventy-nine years before that, when you were…" the youth began, before abruptly going silent. It seemed they'd been about to say too much.

But Korra didn't let the moment slip her by, pouncing on Iraki's hesitation.

"Oh no, you are not stopping there," she said, practically growling. "Look, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that if you're fifteen, then I kicked the bucket fifteen years ago. So what happened? Tell me the truth!"

"I…I can't," they stammered. "There's…rules for this sort of thing. I'm already testing them, just by reaching out to the past. If you want to know your future, then…you need to see it for yourself."

"And how long's that gonna take?" demanded the waterbender.

Another sideways glance. "Not…Not long," Iraki answered quietly. "But there's other stuff you need to see first. Otherwise…it won't make any sense."

[-]

When the young Avatar next came to, they were sprawled across a hospital bed in MIRAI's medical wing, their body only halfway covered by the clean white sheets.

"Morning, moon peach," came a warm, familiar voice from their right. With some effort, Iraki rolled their body over to come face-to-face with a smiling Sagi.

"By the spirits, I feel like I got hit by ten Satomobiles," they said groggily.

"You practically were. I mean, Harmony's hard enough on us just receiving your chi. Can't imagine what it feels like having it drained out of you like that," Sagi told his partner. "Must've taken a lot outta you, 'cuz you've been asleep almost a full day."

Iraki scrambled out of the covers and into a seated position, instantly alert. "The whole day…?" they repeated in a panic. "Does that mean we missed…"

But Sagi cut them off with a shake of the head.

"Nah, it's going on right now. The 'closed door' session," he responded, putting as much of a sarcastic lilt as he could around the term. "You know that group – gotta get all the political hippo-bull out of the way first. They'll call us in when they wanna find out what really happened."

The young Avatar relaxed back into their bed, but only slightly. In place of anything else to do, they began fidgeting with the frayed end of one of the blankets.

After a few moments of silence, almost as an afterthought, they asked, "So how're Naya and Yuro?"

Sagi gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. "In the other room, standing by," he said. "Yuro pushed herself a little too hard in that last battle, had to go in for a check-up as well. But you know her. As soon as she woke up, she shrugged off all the monitoring equipment and stormed off to go yell at something."

Iraki hesitated for a moment, before adding in a smaller voice, "And…you? How are you doing? I know you don't like it when we…"

"Kill spirits?" their boyfriend finished for them, his smile disappearing. "No, I hate it more than anything in the world. But…sometimes, we have no choice. That was a forest spirit, Iraki. He was so deep in madness he was razing to the ground the very thing he literally exists to protect."

He pulled his knees up to his chin and exhaled heavily, before continuing, "You know I'm not a big fan of MIRAI. Or what it stands for. But what we do is important. This world's so far off-balance that it practically has my head spinning, and we're the last thing keeping it from slipping off the edge completely. And besides…"

And suddenly he was cupping Iraki's soft, androgynous face in his hands. He leaned forward, and placed the lightest of kisses across their lips.

"You're here," he whispered, pulling away only a few inches, so their noses were still nearly touching. "Whatever happens, I'll be right by your side. Even if it's to the ends of the earth."

Iraki sniffled, suddenly finding their eyes rather wet. Throwing caution to the wind for just a few seconds, the normally withdrawn teen closed the distance again and began passionately, desperately capturing Sagi's lips with theirs.

"Child, I called for you. Don't make me repeat myself a third time," said an incredibly stern voice.

The Avatar felt a chill run down their spine, like they'd just been submerged in icy water. They jumped away from Sagi like they'd experienced an electric shock, turning to the doorway to find Gikuro framed beneath it. It was impossible to tell from her expression what she thought of what she'd just witnessed – or if she even thought anything of it at all.

"Come along. Both of you," she ordered, in a tone that brooked no room for denial. "The Assembly is awaiting your report."

[-]

By the time Iraki and Sagi entered the conference room, Naya, Yuro, and Buki were already seated. And, displayed upon the three monitors surrounding them, were the faces of – along with Gikuro – the four most powerful people in the world.

Officially, the United Empire of Nations had no diplomatic ties with the other two surviving nation-states, given who controlled them.

Unofficially, the Second Emperor found it useful to coordinate with his counterparts on matters of greatest import. This teleconferenced "Assembly" was the result.

And a Dark Spirit of the size and power of Hei Bai certainly qualified.

"Let's get straight to business, Gikuro," spoke the sharp voice of the Second Emperor, his angular features framed across the nearest monitor. "I think we'd all like to hear the Avatar's report."

Second Emperor Saahasik Beifong was, by all accounts, very much his mother's son. Inheriting her stern features and even sterner demeanor, the relatively recently crowned emperor – for Kuvira had held onto power until her very last breath, only bequeathing her title by way of her will – held the United Empire in an iron grip.

Quite literally, given that he'd also inherited her unparalleled metalbending prowess.

But in some ways, one could say Saahasik was even more dangerous than his predecessor. While undoubtedly an autocrat, Kuvira had at least been a stable leader. And she'd had her scruples…to a degree.

Her son, on the other hand, had ascended at a time when the struggle against the Cataclysm was growing direr by the day. To compensate, he'd squeezed his people all the tighter, and gone to lengths that might've given even the notoriously unforgiving First Empress some pause.

Reviving and refining the research of the disgraced Doctor Sheng, for example. As a number of his political opponents had learned the hard way.

"I fail to see what else the stuttering brat can add," said a bespectacled woman who occupied the second monitor. "We've all seen the data. This was an absolute disaster. Senlin Forest is worse off after the Avatar's interference than before!"

Pula was, for a given definition of the term, the "head" of the Metal Clan. Though of course, she held no formal title, being as she was – like every citizen of Zaofu since Suyin's assassination nine decades prior – an open member of the Red Lotus.

In the early days of the Cataclysm, in protest of it recognizing the legitimacy of Kuvira's coup, Suyin Beifong had led her city in secession from the Earth Kingdom. By permanently closing its domes, she'd hoped to protect her friends and family from political pressures and rampaging spirits alike.

She needn't have bothered. Trapped in self-inflicted isolation, reeling from her falling out with her adoptive daughter and eldest son, Suyin had grown increasingly paranoid and irrational. It didn't escape her "people's" notice that the so-called paragon of freedom had, in effect, imprisoned them all within platinum walls.

And this, in turn, had turned out to be the perfect environment for the ideology of the Red Lotus to take root.

The revolution had been swift, bloody, and final. Overnight, the city of Zaofu, one of the world's last remaining refuges from the ravages of the Cataclysm, became a mecca for every man, woman, and child who wanted to live apart from the despots who controlled all other sanctuaries.

Leading a city-state that believed in neither leaders, cities, nor states was a tricky balancing act, but Pula was exactly the type of woman to manage it. A brilliant scholar and true believer, she'd been kicked out of Empire University for arguing that the collapse of nearly all societies across the globe – including her own, as her lineage was Fire Nation – was something to be celebrated.

The end of tyranny, oppression, and bureaucracy: the ultimate gift from the spirits.

"I've seen not just the data, but the Varri-Drone footage. And it makes me sick to my stomach," replied a deep voice from the final monitor. This speaker was also a woman, though significantly older. "Every time you launch those abominations, the world sinks deeper into chaos. We finally have an unimaginable miracle – an Avatar, untainted by the disease of bending! – and you fools insist on injecting its poison into the poor child's veins?"

Outside of the vision, that type of speech was certainly enough to draw Korra's attention. And indeed, when Iraki turned to face the viewscreen…

Amon's mask, or at least one very much like it, was adorning the older woman's face.

Kunyomi, from a certain point of view, could be considered the very last Earth Queen. She did, after all, sit upon the throne at Ba Sing Se.

But as the Red Lotus had taken advantage of the Cataclysm to seize a home for themselves, the Equalist Movement had done the same – but on a much larger scale. Whispers of their revolution had spread throughout the citizenry of the Lower Ring, most of whom were impoverished non-benders, and as a result…

Well, there was a reason the previous dynasty had ended rather abruptly with Hou-Ting.

Technically, the Earth Kingdom had never been formally disbanded, though the vast majority of its territory had since been lost to the Cataclysm. Effectively, Ba Sing Se operated independently from the lands it once controlled; an impregnable fortress, counting on walls that'd stood for millennia to hold the darkness at bay.

Of course, the only real thing the Red Lotus and Equalists had in common was that both were revolutionaries with a populist bent. There was no longer a government in Zaofu, but that very emphatically was not the case in Ba Sing Se.

On the contrary, the Equalists now in power were every bit the brutal despots as the monarchy they'd overthrown – simply aimed in a different direction. Bending within the city walls was strictly outlawed, and punishable by exile.

A punishment that, in the state the continent was in now, was all but surely a death sentence.

And at the city-state's head, the name of "Amon" had become a title, passed down with each generation to a hand-picked successor. Kunyomi was the fourth such individual to wear the mask, and had done so for thirteen long years.

It was rumored that, since ascending to the throne, none but her wife had ever seen her true face.

"Well…we're not gonna get anywhere without hearing from the guest of honor themselves! C'mon, kid, lay it on us!" exclaimed Buki, when the silence following Kunyomi's words had stretched on for an uncomfortable length of time.

Iraki's legs wobbled as they collapsed into a chair. They tried to speak, but found their mouth incredibly dry.

And they were fairly certain that even if words did come to them, they'd come out so garbled by their stutter so as to be practically worthless.

At least…that was until Sagi laced his fingers around theirs, and gave an encouraging nod.

The Avatar looked around the room, taking in each face – most of whom seemed rather impatient for them to get on with things. The only exceptions were Naya, who looked as emotionless as ever, and as for Yuro…

Honestly, Iraki couldn't even begin to read her expression. Which, in a sense, might've been an improvement; at least she no longer looked like she wanted to pummel them.

The Avatar took a long, deep breath, and then said, "A…Alright…so I guess the…the first thing that h…happened, was…"

[-]

"Okay, let me get this straight," Korra interrupted the scene, trying to wrap her brain around all this new information. "In your future, there's basically only three cities left. One's run by Kuvira's kid, one by the Equalists…and one by the Lotus?"

"Pretty much," Iraki answered her. "I mean…there might be a couple little enclaves here or there, away from the big cities. But without a steady supply of Light Crystals, they're basically sitting turtle-ducks."

But if Iraki thought this news would depress their predecessor as much as it clearly did them, then they were sadly mistaken. On the contrary, a big grin began to spread across Korra's face.

"They did it. They actually did it," she said in hushed tones. "Sure, the other two are awful, but…a whole city, without a government. They proved it could work. Created a beacon of freedom in this stupid, messed-up world!"

"Well…I wouldn't go that far," muttered Iraki, though they didn't meet her eyes as they did. "I've had to visit Zaofu a couple of times – y'know, Avatar stuff. Everyone there's pretty much left to fend for themselves. Which works out great for the ones with friends and connections to help them out. The rest…"

Iraki swallowed deeply, before continuing, "Korra, there's a lot of people starving there. Many would leave if they could. But they know they wouldn't last two days outside the Safe Zones."

Korra didn't really have a good response to this, beyond biting her lip and shifting uncomfortably along the balls of her feet.

So instead, she elected to change the subject. "I know you won't tell me about myself, for spirits-know-what reason. But what about the others?" she asked. "You said Kuvira and…and Asami are dead…"

It was still horrendously difficult to acknowledge the latter as fact, but she managed to keep the wavering in her voice to a minimum.

"Your team…fell apart, less than a year into the Cataclysm," said Iraki, pale-green eyes still averted. "Your cousins died with the rest of the Northern Tribe, and Baatar in a botched weapons test. Which left Mako, Bolin, Asami, and Kuvira alone. Alone, and…and mad with grief."

"And I bet you're still not going to explain to me what the Cataclysm actually was," Korra responded dryly.

Another soft, sad shake of the head.

"Great. Just peachy," the waterbender groused. "Seems like we keep dancing around all the stuff that actually matters."

Inwardly, however, the wheels in her brain were frenetically turning. Reading between the lines, the date of this so-called "Cataclysm" did seem to line up pretty well with Harmonic Convergence.

Did this mean…they'd succeeded? The Red Lotus' plans for the event were certainly Cataclysmic, for a given definition of the word. For those too small-minded to realize that balance demanded sacrifice. But on the other hand…

Well, the sheer fact that Iraki existed meant things hadn't gone entirely according to Zaheer's designs.

Pushing it out of her mind for now, Korra demanded, "So are Mako and Bolin alive, or aren't they? And what about my cell of the Lotus? I mean, I guess they'd all be over a hundred by now, but…well, look, just tell me, okay?"

"Ghazan, P'Li, and Ming-Hua all died young. So did Mako, a few years later. Those were…dangerous times," said Iraki carefully. "Zaheer is…a mystery. He hasn't been seen for decades. He was instrumental in overthrowing Zaofu, but afterward he just…left. Without any explanation."

They let out a lungful of air, wringing their hands together; they clearly didn't want to say the next part.

Nonetheless, they told their predecessor in unsteady tones, "Bolin is…alive. But you wouldn't want to see him like he is now. He can't even leave his bed."

Korra briefly imagined her earthbender friend – always so jovial, so full of life – withering away in a hospital somewhere, his stocky body reduced to a dry husk. She hated to admit it, but Iraki was probably right about that.

She couldn't take much more of this so-called "future."

"Just show me the rest of this crap," she snapped at the younger Avatar. "The sooner it's over with, the better."

[-]

"And that…that's the last thing I re…remember…" said Iraki, their cheeks burning with embarrassment. The explanation had taken twice as long as it should've, thanks to their stutter, and they were acutely aware they'd long since run out the patience of everyone gathered.

Kunyomi leaned her head to the side, somehow managing to exude an aura of irritation despite her full-face, expressionless mask.

"Monsters. All of you," she whispered, her voice quaking with barely controlled fury. "These are children. Non-bender children. And you insist on making them your soldiers. Fighting the battles you're too cowardly to."

"Since time immemorial, the Avatar has pursued justice with little regard for age. Youth didn't stop Aang from battling Ozai; Kyoshi against Xu Ping An; Bai against Hundun," Gikuro rebuked her coldly.

"It's rare I find myself in agreement with that masked weasel-snake. And you know I have no love lost for the brat, or anyone at MIRAI," declared Pula. "But how can you be so callous? That's your own child you're sending into harm's way."

"Easy for you two to say, when your cities aren't the ones in danger," rumbled Saahasik's oddly scratchy voice, like sandpaper rubbing up against itself. "One of them may be the Avatar, but they're still just four teenagers. Four…against the countless thousands I have to protect. Callous? Perhaps. But as a simple question of numbers…you must agree that's no choice at all."

Gikuro pursed her lips impatiently.

"We're getting off-track, in any event. Rehashing long-fought arguments. Let's not pretend as if any of us are likely to change the others' minds," she said. "The important thing is planning what to do next. It's obvious the Dark Spirits are growing more powerful – and bolder."

"Yes, we've heard your researcher's theory. I'm skeptical of the notion of spirits evolving, but then I suppose we don't have any better explanations," responded Pula, leaning back in her chair and engulfing it in a glow of warmth with her firebending. Changes in climate as a result of the Cataclysm had left the entire southern half of the Earth Kingdom in an unseasonable cold spell.

"Of course…" she added after a few moments, all but leering at the others through her screen. "The Red Lotus no doubt has a very different viewpoint on this development than the rest of you. I'm quite pleased the spirits are growing in strength. All the better to punish this wretched, misbegotten world."

"You'll think differently, when it's Zaofu they're razing to the ground!" the Second Emperor suddenly roared, lifting himself – with difficulty, as his legs were prosthetics – out of his chair. Every piece of metal in his throne room began to vibrate dangerously. "If you're really so committed to this lunacy, go ahead and deactivate your Light Crystals. We'll see what your people think of their precious 'freedom' then."

"I'd expect nothing less from a fascist thug like you," hissed Pula. "What're you going to do, brainwash me into a happy, obedient vegetable? The way you did to Ran and the rest of the Blue Jackets?"

"Excuse me?" Saahasik demanded incredulously. "Call those vermin what they were. Thieves, rapists, murderers. And now they're happy, productive members of society, making honest livings in service to their Empire. You call that brainwashing? I call it curing a disease."

Pula looked for a moment as if she was ready to fly halfway across the continent with her firebending alone, just to burn the Second Emperor to a crisp.

Before she could let loose the curses fermenting beneath her lips, however, Kunyomi said sternly, "The only 'disease' I see is the one you're infecting the Avatar with. Have you ever considered you might be making the situation worse? If the sages are right, and it was the death of public spirituality that led to the Cataclysm…"

"I don't set store by such mystical hog-monkeywash," Gikuro interrupted her, her arms folded across her chest.

"Oh, of course. Because your charts and machines have all the answers," the masked woman shot back, pointing an accusatory finger. "Don't pretend at certainty you don't possess, witch. If you knew what to do, you wouldn't be calling on us."

That elicited a brief chuckle from Pula – a hoarse, throaty sound despite her young age, owing to years of dhumrapana abuse.

"That's rich, coming from an Equalist," she snickered, though without much actual humor in her voice. "Wasn't it Hiroshi Sato himself who called technology 'The Great Equalizer'?"

"Everything has its limit. And mine is taking four innocent non-benders, and using chemicals to force that sin on their heads," said Kunyomi. "Which brings me back to my original point. You all know Amon's Precepts, even if you're foolish enough to reject them. And the First: that bending was a gift from the spirits. A gift we wasted and abused."

She bowed her head slightly in deference to her venerated predecessor, before continuing, "How else may we read the signs of the Avatar Spirit choosing a non-bending child in this blighted age? Blind yourselves to it if you wish, but the truth cannot be denied. The era of bending is over. The spirits are reclaiming their gift. Yet you insist on clinging to a dying past by any means necessary – including perverting nature itself."

"How kind of you to belatedly find some scruples. It's neither here nor there, of course, but I find it interesting the Red wench gets on my case about the Blue Jackets, when you slaughtered their waterbenders with a brutality I could scarcely dream of," remarked Saahasik with a sneer. "Call me what you will, but at least I'm consistent in my approach. Nothing is off the table, if it means safeguarding my Empire. And her people."

Gikuro held up a cautioning hand before the wrathful faces on the other viewscreens could unleash their ire.

"Once again, this petty squabbling helps little," she told the world leaders, as if lecturing small children. "Now, to answer your concerns, Lady Kunyomi…was the lightbulb a 'perversion of nature'? The telephone? The Satomobile? MIRAI's research lies on the cutting edge of modern science, because anything less means the extinction of our species."

The stern-faced researcher suddenly wheeled around toward the young pilots, narrowing her verdant eyes upon them. Iraki instinctively shrunk back.

"Have we considered that we might be exacerbating the problem? Of course. No scientist worth her salt denies a hypothesis without thoroughly testing it," she said. "But what choice do we have, otherwise? Without the HOTU, our Avatar is useless."

"Hey!" Sagi went from silent to shouting in an instant, bolting out of his seat. "You take that back! I don't care if you're their mother, nothing gives you the right to…!"

Iraki hated themselves for averting their eyes, as Gikuro struck their boyfriend across the face.

"Raise your voice to me again, Operative Sagi, and you won't get off so easily," she declared coldly. "Never forget, children. Your role is to do as you're told. This isn't some fanciful tale of honor and glory. You aren't heroes. You're cogs, in a machine. And that machine will not falter."

None of them had a word to say in response – not even the still uncharacteristically quiet Yuro.

"I was hoping for a more…constructive discussion this evening," Gikuro went on, addressing the viewscreens once again. "But time is short, and I'm sure we all have business to attend. Any final words?"

The Second Emperor folded his prematurely lined hands over each other, and glared through the screen.

"Only this," he rumbled. "I will not be joining any future calls. It's obvious this Assembly has outlived its usefulness. Clearly, there is no longer any point in associating with this gutter-trash."

Pula ground her teeth so hard that sparks actually flew from them. "Finally," she said in a low growl. "Something the two of us can agree on."

Kunyomi, however, took a very different tact in her tone and body language.

"Are you two insane?" she asked sharply. "I mean, I know she is – fool enough to consider the slow death of the world a good thing. But as much as I hate everything about what you stand for, Saahasik…I at least always thought you were smarter than this. Mankind stands divided, lost, bereft. If those few of us remaining don't band together…"

"And that's precisely why I proposed these meetings in the first place. Officially, the United Empire labels you both terrorists…but I was willing to look past that, if sharing information meant a better chance of survival," he explained, in terse and clipped tones. "Yet time and again, you offer me nothing of value. So why should I continue associating with scum who want me dead on principle – in one case for being an Emperor, and the other for being a metalbender?"

"Amon Junior's cause may be ludicrous, but at least she stands for something," Pula cut in. "You value nothing but your own power."

For several long, torturous moments, the Second Emperor was dangerously silent.

Then, while barely moving his lips, he murmured, "You have no idea what I stand for. But perhaps you will, soon enough."

One by one, all three monitors flickered off.

[-]

The news came early the next morning, while the HOTU pilots were waiting for class to start.

"He's declared war?" said Sagi, throwing down his phone in frustration. "And on both Zaofu and Ba Sing Se at once? As if we didn't have enough to deal with already!"

Naturally, like all news in the United Empire, the story in question was propaganda slanted to cast the Second Emperor's decision in the best possible light. All over Empire City, what limited resources they had available were being marshalled for an air assault on the other two remaining bastions of civilization.

(Deploying infantry, of course, would've been suicide.)

"They bruised his ego," Naya stated matter-of-factly. "Saahasik likes to believe he is as brilliant a tactician as his late mother, but he is far too impulsive for his own good."

"You're, uh…you're really pretty per…perceptive. More than…than you seem, I mean," Iraki stammered. "That is…I…I didn't…I didn't mean it to come out th…that way, I just…"

Naya didn't seem especially bothered by their comments, though then again Iraki had never actually seen her "bothered" by anything.

Yuro, on the other hand, made a distinct scoffing noise with her mouth and stormed out of the classroom.

The Avatar glanced at the clock on the wall; less than five minutes until the teacher was due to arrive. Against their better judgment, they found themselves moving to follow.

"I…just want to make sure she's okay," they whispered into their boyfriend's ear.

Upon exiting into the hallway, Iraki found that Yuro hadn't made it very far. The twin-tailed girl was a few feet away, leaning her forehead against the wall.

"Are…Are you alright…?" they managed to ask, after a couple false starts. "Ever s…since yesterday, you…you haven't been acting l…like…like yourself…"

Yuro suddenly wheeled toward them, her neck snapping to the side so quickly it was almost audible. The furious look upon her face was one they'd seen many times before.

The tears, however, were new.

"You do get this is none of your frickin' business, right?" she snapped at them. "Just leave me alone, gravel-for-brains! Get the hell outta here!"

Iraki, however, remained rooted in place – less because they really wanted to disobey, and more because their legs were refusing to work properly.

This was the last straw for Yuro, who seized Iraki by the collar, and tossed them bodily through the nearest doorway. The Avatar landed in a heap in another empty classroom, knocking over several dust-caked desks.

Just because the school only had four enrolled students didn't change that it'd been built for a time when there'd been far, far more.

"You wanna know? You really really wanna hear the story of sad, stupid Yuro so you can point and laugh at how pathetic she is?" she said, striding into the classroom and slamming the door shut behind her. "Cuz I'll tell you! Nosey little piece of pond-scum, why don't I spill everything? Bet you'll be happy to plaster it up in the sky, so the whole Empire can see!"

Iraki had no idea how to respond to any of this. And any dim flickers of one died away the instant she spoke her next words.

"My mom committed suicide two days ago."

The Avatar, who'd been in the process of stumbling back to their feet, froze mid-action. "Wh…What…?" they mumbled.

But that just seemed to infuriate her even further. "No! I'm not dealing with you sputtering all over the place while I spill my frickin' guts out!" she yelled, taking another step forward. "So don't talk, gravel-for-brains. Just listen."

Dutifully, Iraki went silent, drawing themselves back to full height and doing their best to maintain eye contact with the girl.

Not that the sheer rage in those eyes made it easy.

"I got the news while we were in the med wing. Guess it happened while we were fighting that stupid panda," continued Yuro. "Hung herself, the cops said. No one found her till the body was already blue and stiff."

Iraki recoiled in horror from the vividness of the description. They doubted they could've said anything even if they hadn't been commanded to shut up.

"Anyway…" she said after a few moments. "You wanna know what my first reaction was? What I told the officers who gave me the whole story?"

She clenched both her fists and her lips tightly, before adding in a much lower voice, "…Good riddance."

The Avatar's jaw, if it was possible, widened even further. But they had little time to process this, as Yuro was now doing something they could've never expected.

The twin-tailed girl was laughing.

"See, when you think about it, she got a pretty raw frickin' deal, didn't she?" she remarked, her voice halfway between speaking and shouting. She had her hand over her mouth, containing chortles that were utterly devoid of any genuine humor. "All her life, she was probably all 'hey, I'm supposed to be frickin' royalty.' If her dear Grammy Nazrin hadn't fled Yogan like a bitch, and made herself the last Fire Lord."

Yuro suddenly kicked one of the overturned desks aside, though her rant didn't even skip a beat as she did.

"But of course, under the Great and Powerful First Empress, Her Most Excellent Stick-Up-The-Ass, mom was just another subject," she said. "Even better…the first descendant of the royal family in known history not to be a firebender. Spirits, I could see how she burned with the shame of it, even as a kid. And then – like always – I had to come along and make things ten thousand times worse!"

Her laughter was growing stronger, and even more unhinged.

"So you've got mom, lost and bitter and alone. And here comes this suave, handsome guy who's really damn good at sayin' all the right things," Yuro went on, in a tone that made it sound like she was describing something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "Not that I ever met the bastard myself. See, turns out he was a pretty experienced con-man. Took mom for every copper piece left from the family fortune. And as soon as he found out she was pregnant? Scampered off into the night."

Her laughter briefly turned to coughing. Instinctively, Iraki reached for a water bottle they kept in a satchel at their hip, but when they tried to offer it to her, she swatted their hand away.

Glaring even more fiercely, she gritted her teeth and told the Avatar, "Y'know, I never knew if mom was happy or sad I turned out a non-bender like her. Never knew how she felt about a lotta things – except angry. Her life was crap, and she made sure mine was, too."

Briefly, Iraki flashed back to the visions they'd all inadvertently received through Harmony during the battle a couple weeks ago.

A gangly, sunken-eyed woman who must've been Yuro's mother, passed out across a couch, an empty bottle dangling precariously from her fingers.

Yuro herself, no more than two or three, sitting in a corner and wailing her head off.

The lanky woman stumbling to her feet, and making her way to her daughter in a wobbling, drunken stupor.

A loud crash. A sudden spike in the volume and intensity of the cries. And then, abruptly…silence.

Yuro's mother returning to the couch, burying her unwashed hair in a pillow tinged with dried vomit.

The bottle still grasped loosely between her fingers – but broken now in the middle.

The small droplets of blood pooling along one of its jagged edges.

It'd become eminently clear that day why Yuro point-blank refused to change into her uniform at the same time as Naya.

"Anyway, I guess MIRAI was the last straw," said Yuro after a while. If she had any idea what Iraki had just been picturing, she didn't show it – and the young Avatar wouldn't dream of bringing up the subject themselves. "You remember the notices that went out, right? How they went recruiting for kids with strong bending lineages, but who weren't benders themselves?"

Iraki did remember, if vaguely. They'd already known Sagi before the recruitment drive, who was supposedly the grandson of a famous Water Sage who'd escaped the destruction of the North by total accident. And as for Naya…

Well, Iraki had never actually known where Naya came from. Gikuro had shown up out of the blue one day with the taciturn girl in tow, declaring that she was to be the pilot of Unit-A.

Given the incredible rarity of non-benders with Air Nomad ancestry, the whole thing had of course raised questions. But Gikuro clearly hadn't been interested in answering them.

Regardless, Yuro was speaking again. "You gotta imagine how she must've been feeling, right?" she asked rhetorically. "All her life, she's been told her lack of bending made her worthless. A stain on our family's honor. And here her own daughter comes, makin' that weakness into a strength. Suddenly she's one of the most important people in the whole frickin' world."

For the first time in several minutes, words managed to claw themselves out of Iraki's throat. "And…that's why she…?" they muttered.

Yuro shrugged her thin shoulders, either not realizing or not caring that they'd just violated her "no talking" edict.

"It's my best guess. She didn't leave a note or anything," she said, trying and not altogether succeeding at sounding utterly disaffected. "Point is, she was a garbage mom and a garbage person. And now she's where she deserves. Time to frickin' celebrate, I say."

"Then…" breathed out Iraki, knowing it was a bad idea. "Wh…Why are you…crying…?"

For the tears she'd been spilling out in the hallway had never actually abated. No matter how much she raged, and ranted, and laughed uncontrollably, they never once ceased to flow.

She didn't reply, at first, with words. Her answer to their question was instead etched into every line of her face, as it twisted further and further into what could only be described as pure, unvarnished hatred.

But then, she did something that was even more unexpected than laughter.

She took two, purposeful steps forward, grasped Iraki by the collar once again…

And mashed her lips into theirs.

Iraki hadn't the slightest idea what to think, or to feel, as they half-heartedly fought off the kiss. They'd never really gotten a good grasp on their orientation – their gender identity had been enough of a struggle – but they were pretty sure they were either bi or pan, and in any event they were definitely attracted to both Yuro and Naya on a physical level.

But the girls' respective personalities meant they'd never even dreamed of something like this, and Sagi had confessed his feelings not too long after they all joined MIRAI, which'd forestalled anything else.

The thought of their boyfriend cleared away the cloud of confusion and doubt in an instant. Regardless of what they felt, they knew what the act was: cheating. On the person most precious to them in the world.

Abruptly, Iraki pulled away from the girl, holding up both hands as a weak sort of shield.

"L…Look, Yuro, you're…I mean, you're really n…nice, and everything, but…" they stuttered. "But you…you know I al…already have a…a…"

Yuro cut him off with a single, piercing glare.

"You think this has anything to do with you, gravel-for-brains?" she said, now looking upon them as if they were the very lowest filth. The fact that Iraki was half a head shorter than her didn't help. "You think I could actually want you? Get over yourself. You're weak, and scrawny, and worthless…!"

Then, suddenly, she collapsed to her knees, burying her face in her hands.

"And…And so am I…" she choked out, sobs of defeat overtaking her voice. "At least, when you're around…I'm not alone. We can be failures together."

Iraki opened and closed their mouth several times, without any sound coming out. Eventually, for lack of having anything better to say, they responded, "I…I don't think you're a f…failure…"

"Of course I am!" exclaimed Yuro, cutting him off. Her face was growing increasingly deranged, and her hair had fallen loose from its bands. "I've never done anything but bring misery to everyone! And the one time – the one time! – I find out I'm good at something, my mom up and kills herself over it! And now…"

The brief fight that'd sparked in her voice died as quickly as it came.

"And now…even you've rejected me. Didn't think I could get any lower, but here I am," she said, letting out a deep, rattling sigh. "I used to think you were the biggest loser in the world. Now I know it's me. So…just leave me alone, okay? Like everyone else does."

"Y…Yuro, I…" Iraki started, though they really weren't certain what else they could say.

Neither of them ever got a chance to find out, however. In that moment, the classroom door quietly swung open, revealing Naya's emotionless face.

"Director Gikuro has sent an alert," she said. "We are needed at headquarters immediately."

[-]

"I didn't sign on for this, alright?" Sagi told his boss. "Find someone else to pilot Unit-W if you must, because I am not turning it on innocent people!"

The teenaged boy braced for another strike from his partner's mother, but to his surprise, Gikuro merely nodded once.

"Trust me, I'm not thrilled with this plan either," she replied, without looking back at the pilots; instead she was perusing a holographic map of the world, arms folded behind her back. "But the Second Emperor controls nearly all of MIRAI's funding, and he could shut us down with a word if he felt so inclined. We don't have a choice."

"Now that doesn't sound like the super-extra-scary boss lady we all know and, debatably, love!" called out Buki, though from a distance; she was in the midst of tinkering with a panel on Unit-F's right leg. "I bet if you really put your mind to it, you could totally tell that walking embolism where to stick his war plans!"

"You're my best scientist, Lieutenant Buki, so I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that," said Gikuro with a sigh. "In any event, I've no love lost for the Red Lotus nor the Equalists. Shock and awe, I think, is our best option. Force both enemies into capitulation with a display of just how much power the HOTU wield. That's the quickest way to end this foolhardy war, and get back to focusing on the real threats."

"Yeah, sure thing," Yuro murmured hollowly, before anyone else could respond. "Burn Zaofu and Ba Sing Se to the ground, for all I care. Long as I get to kill somethin'."

Gikuro's mouth became a thin, tight line. "Yes, about that," she stated in a toneless voice. "Operative Yuro, your compatibility data with Unit-F have been steadily decreasing over the past several months, and your simulation tests this morning indicated an even more precipitous drop. You'll be sitting this mission out."

Yuro looked like she'd just been punched in the stomach. "Wh…What?!" she exclaimed, her eyes going wide and her breath growing shallow. "But…But you need me! Harmony won't work without…!"

"Without four individuals with inactive bending genes, representing each of the four elements," Gikuro finished for her. "Fortunately, we have a couple of spares. You didn't think you were the only candidate we identified during our search, did you? Operative Zuha is in the simulation chambers now, and will be substituting for you today."

"You…can't do this…" the younger girl breathed out, her chest heaving. "You can't take this away from me too!"

Before any of them knew what was happening, Yuro leveled a sharp jab straight at the Director's face. But her technique was wild and sloppy, and Gikuro caught her fist easily.

"I can, and I have," she said calmly, twisting Yuro's wrist as she did. The girl let out a shriek of pain. "This decision is final, and I expect you to abide by it. Just as I expect you all to launch in fifteen minutes."

Gikuro released her grip, allowing Yuro's arm to swing downward and fall limply at her side. The girl seemed to have been struck utterly dumb by this latest blow to her self-worth.

Instead, without another word or even a single glance at her fellow pilots, Yuro turned around and trudged miserably out of the hangar.

"That was…so cold…" Iraki found themselves mumbling, against their better judgment.

"I'm here to be your Director, not your babysitter. The girl can deal with her psychological hang-ups on her own time," responded their mother, waving a dismissive hand. Iraki wasn't sure if the echo of Yuro's own words from the other day was intentional or not. "Believe me, if the constraints of the Harmony System didn't necessitate using operatives of a similar age and build to the Avatar, I wouldn't be entrusting the fate of the world to four hormonal teenagers."

She gestured to the door, before adding, "Naya, go and fetch Operative Zuha. Help him get suited up and into Unit-F's cockpit. We'll be striking Ba Sing Se at sundown."

[-]

"This Yuro girl's a real piece of work," said Korra with a frown. "But I can't help but feel bad for her."

"Yeah," was Iraki's taciturn reply. The longer the visions dragged on, the less her successor seemed to have to tell her. "Me too."

Indeed, she was starting to feel a fair bit of sympathy for all of Iraki's companions; probably more than was strictly advisable. She had to keep reminding herself that these people, this entire future, were the enemy – proof that in at least one timeline, she'd failed in achieving the Lotus' vision, and bringing balance to the world.

A mistake she couldn't afford to make in the present.

"So, Asami created MIRAI to battle against the Dark Spirits. But along the way, it became yet another weapon corrupted to serve a tyrant. Typical," she declared in a scoffing tone. "You do realize Kuvira's kid is pretty much the embodiment of why the Red Lotus exists?"

Iraki looked toward her, blinking twice.

"I'm not gonna try arguing politics with you. I'd be no good at it, anyway," they said. "My only role is to show you what's to come. Draw your own conclusions from there."

"Are you telling me I didn't just see you and your friends go off to slaughter civilians, just because a man with a fancy title told you to?" demanded Korra.

"Yes…and no," Iraki answered carefully. "The Ba Sing Se mission…didn't exactly go how we planned."

[-]

Zuha, as it turned out, was a serious-faced but amiable young man. Iraki was of the vague impression they'd seen him around headquarters once or twice: a pilot in the Imperial Forces, and son of one of MIRAI's military liaisons.

"Still getting used to flying this thing. It's nothing like one of our biplanes," he remarked aloud. "And…wow. Really getting used to this whole 'talking with our brains' thing. How do you guys stand it?"

"We don't, really," said Sagi tersely. While he was keeping his conscious thoughts private, his subconscious was radiating negativity like waves of heat. "But it's not like we're given a choice."

Of course, Iraki didn't have to read their boyfriend's mind to know what was still bothering him. What they were about to do was completely anathema to Sagi's entire worldview.

Arguably, should've been anathema to their worldview, as well. Wasn't the Avatar meant to stop these senseless wars, not help start them?

But Iraki knew they didn't have the heart to disobey their mother. They were weak and spineless; fully aware they were being made a pawn, but too much of a coward to break free.

Man, Yuro really had them pegged.

"We are approaching the outer wall of Ba Sing Se," Naya told the others coolly, and a quick glance outside the cockpit told them that she was right.

The impregnable walls that'd withstood invaders of every race and creed imaginable towered above them, seemingly immune to the forces that'd ravaged every square inch of surrounding countryside.

But that was only on the surface. A second glance told a different story: numerous small cracks and fissures, where Dark Spirits had attempted to tear their way through. None of them were anywhere near large nor deep enough to pierce through to the other side, but all together, they made one thing eminently clear.

The Darks knew there were humans within the walls, and they weren't going to rest until they reached them.

"We all have our orders," said Zuha. "I still find this whole 'Harmony' thing pretty weird, but the Director says we're supposed to activate it as soon as we see the rest of the fleet approach."

"Then…Then…that means…" stuttered Iraki, their eyes darting toward the horizon. "N…Now…"

The Imperial Forces' air fleet was more than two hundred planes strong, each of them armed to the teeth with bombs or mounted firebenders. It was a shocking display of power from an Emperor known for them, and combined with the deployment of the HOTU, represented an incredible degree of overkill.

After all, assuming they followed Gikuro's plan exactly, the additional forces would serve little purpose but to increase the civilian body count.

Iraki hesitated, before reaching for the Harmony System activation controls. They supposed it wouldn't matter, soon enough. Once they entered the Avatar State, they wouldn't even be aware of such things as human casualties.

They never remembered their actions while in Full Harmonization in whole detail.

Only the devastation that inevitably followed.

"Ev…Everyone ready…?" they asked, unsure whether they wanted the answer to be yes or no.

"I am ready," said Naya, in her usual monotone.

"…As I'll ever be," Sagi bitterly spat.

Iraki could all but picture Zuha's confident smile as he chimed in, "Ready here as w…aaaaaaaaargh!"

A strange sensation flowed across the other three pilots, as Zuha's steady voice suddenly went silent. For several long seconds, they remained suspended in the air, wondering what in Shu's name had just happened.

Then, abruptly, their minds were inundated with the words, "Hey, gravel-for-brains. Miss me?"

"Yuro!" Iraki exclaimed. "H…How did you…?"

"No way was I gettin' benched on somethin' this important. Usually, I hate the idea of losin' myself in your weak-ass chi…but there's never been a day I've needed it more," she said. "So I stowed away behind this loser, and conked him out when I saw the right opportunity. Kinda a shame…he is pretty cute."

They all "heard" a sort of rustling sound, as she added, "Hold on, gimme a sec to finish pluggin' in. Then we can go all glow-y."

"You had best hurry, in that event," stated Naya, sounding as nonplussed about this turn of events as she did about everything. "It seems our presence has been noticed."

And indeed, the top of the outer wall was inundated with scores of soldiers, most of them in the full-body garb of Equalist chi-blockers. And while their signature fighting style obviously wasn't of much use against an air fleet, they were presently mustering weapons that very much were.

"Looks like Buki's intelligence was spot-on. The Equalists really have mass-produced their linear accelerator cannons," Sagi mused with a tight frown. "But there aren't enough spirit vines left in the world to power that many. Not since Foggy Swamp was drained."

They got their answer within just a few seconds. The nearest cannon completed its charging sequence, and fired straight at the approaching fleet.

The discharge from the weapon appeared to be electrical in nature; a steady stream of focused, directed lightning. It wasn't half as powerful as the Spirit Cannons the HOTU were equipped with.

But that didn't stop the blast from tearing through a dozen biplanes like butter.

Iraki and their team had managed to dodge the energy at the last moment, but it was a near miss. And in the wake of the first volley, they could see nearly a hundred more cannons charging similar shots.

Yuro slammed her fist into her seat so hard that all of them felt it.

"Enough owl-pussyfootin' around!" she cried out. "We don't do it now, we might not get another chance!"

"F…Fine…" said Iraki, their trembling hand reaching for the activation controls again. "In three…t…two…one…"

The now-familiar cry echoed through each of their cockpits in turn, as the world disappeared into a flood of white.

"Fire!"

"Air!"

"Water!"

"Earth…"

[-]

It took about two seconds for Iraki to realize that something was deeply, deeply wrong.

Perhaps it was the presence of a second mind within one of the HOTU, albeit an unconscious one. Perhaps it was simply a matter of Yuro's unstable emotional state.

But regardless of the cause, there was no question that this felt…different. Iraki somehow simultaneously felt more and less in control of themselves than they usually did in the Avatar State.

The world around them hadn't completed faded away, to be subsumed by Raava's burning light, but instead seemed to be…flickering, in and out. They were aware of their body, at least vaguely, but it was also moving now, and they certainly weren't the one directing that.

It meant, however, that they didn't have the luxury of falling into semi-consciousness as the HOTU unleashed their wrath upon the city below.

No matter how much they might've wanted to.

Using the unbridled power of Unit-E, the millennia-strong walls of Ba Sing Se were crumbling like sandcastles under heavy tide. What a thousand armies, an enormous drill, and countless spirits had failed to do, a single machine was accomplishing in the space of a few minutes.

Meanwhile, the thousands of troops who'd been stationed on the battlements were helpless to save themselves as the stones beneath them disintegrated. They cascaded downward in droves, falling hundreds of feet until they impacted the mountains of rubble, and became still.

Compared to the civilians they'd been trying to protect, however, the Equalist forces arguably got off easy.

Unit-F was flying about at breakneck speed, enveloping entire districts in flame. Unit-W turned the city's rivers and waterways against it, flooding the streets with waves tall enough to carry away houses. Unit-A summoned and directed a massive tornado directly in the center of the Upper Ring, swallowing enormous portions of the royal palace whole.

All told, there would likely be thousands upon thousands of deaths on their hands, when all was said and done. From a tactical perspective, it was an unquestionable victory.

From a moral one, Iraki was almost forced out of the Avatar State by a sudden urge to vomit.

But those feelings only threw off the balance between the quartet even further, and the swings in their shared chi grew ever more volatile. It got to the point where visions of the horrific devastation were alternating with Raava's glow every other second. The dissonance was threatening to rip their head in two.

Until finally, in desperation to block out the chaotic maelstrom, they forced their eyes shut, and their body into stillness. Through Harmony, they felt the other three do the same.

When they opened their eyes again, they were in a room. A very familiar room.

"No…No, you are not seeing this again!" screamed Yuro, somehow sounding both distant and as if she was right by their side.

They had no bodies, no presences of self in this place, but yet they were all still linked inextricably. They felt as much as heard her panicked cries, as the hazy vision replayed over and over: her mother drunkenly stumbling off the couch, bottle in hand. Rewinding every few seconds, like a recording on loop.

"Stop it! Stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it…!" she wailed, the sheer anguish in her voice enough to make the images go in and out of focus, like someone had picked up the room and shaken it. "Let it be someone else's frickin' turn…!"

To her utter shock, the visions obeyed.

[-]

They were in a laboratory.

Gikuro's laboratory, to be precise. Iraki would've recognized it anywhere, having spent so much of their childhood playing quietly in the corner of this room.

But they didn't recognize the portly man who was standing at its center, chatting animatedly with their mother – who, judging by the lack of lines in her face, was at least five or ten years younger than she was in the present.

"As you know, the first two attempts were…less than successful," he said, stroking his graying mustache. "And frankly, I wasn't thrilled with the idea of trying a third time. These are human lives we're playing around with. Not vole-mice."

"I didn't ask for a bout of petty moralizing. I asked how the subject is progressing," Gikuro snapped. "I recruited you into MIRAI, Doctor Moon, because I believed in all the tales of your genius. Which, given that your father's name and company are slapped on half the modern advances of the past half-century, came hardly as a surprise."

"Iknik Varrick was no father of mine. The bum walked out on my mother when I was five," declared Doctor Moon, a bitterness he'd clearly revisited many times before leaking into his voice.

Gikuro's lip curled, and her head bent down a fraction – so that her glasses became opaque and reflective under the lab's fluorescent light.

"I have no doubt. But that's neither here nor there, isn't it?" she replied coolly. "The point is, you more than anyone should realize the importance of what we're building here. Without a pilot for Unit-A, Project Harmony falls to pieces before it starts. And unlike the rest, we can't exactly just go out and advertise for one."

The Director stepped forward, and seized him roughly around his tie.

"So no more stalling," she said, affixing him with the same glare that always paralyzed Iraki into unquestioning obedience. "Did the latest experiment succeed, or didn't it?"

The aging scientist stood there for several, pregnant moments, breathing heavily.

Then, with a resigned sigh, he opened a side door and called out, "Naya, will you come in here please?"

After a few seconds, a little girl in a very clean, very plain dress stepped into the laboratory. It was unquestionably their fellow pilot, though several years younger.

"Naya?" Gikuro repeated, speaking the name as if it was a strange piece of foreign cuisine. "You named it?"

"She is a little girl. As were the last two subjects, before they…deteriorated," he told her, his voice cracking a bit on the last word. "But yes, she's everything you asked for. She's been passing the simulations with flying colors for the past few weeks."

"Simulations can only tell so much. Still, this is good news," said Gikuro. "May I ask how you managed to keep her stable this long? The last one only made it four days."

Doctor Moon let out a sound that was all but a growl – and probably would've been, if he hadn't intentionally repressed it. Still, he walked over to his computer console and began pulling up data and medical charts.

"The issue I continued running into was…are you familiar with Janin-han's Thesis? I know your own research has tendered toward mechanical engineering over biological," he began to explain. "In a nutshell, it reflects the observable phenomenon that intense spirituality, or lack thereof, can actually alter a person's genome. We don't fully understand it yet, but it's been supported by countless experiments."

He pressed a few keys, causing a 3-D diagram of a double helix to appear on the screen. A particular section of it was highlighted in red.

"Best as modern science can tell, this is the sequence that best controls for presence or lack of bending ability. It will be noticeably different in an individual who's led a highly spiritual life," went on Doctor Moon. "Now, obviously, altering this sequence later in life won't spontaneously result in bending powers. But I do hypothesize it increases the likelihood that one will bear bender offspring, when the sequence is replicated and passed on."

"That would certainly explain why the highly spiritual Air Nomads were able to maintain a one-hundred-percent success rate in generating airbenders," Gikuro quietly mused. "Am I correct in guessing, then, that this is the genotype Harmony requires? A non-bender who's very likely to produce a bender child?"

"It's a little more complicated than that, but close enough for the most part," was his answer, as he continued to pull up new data. "So, of course, you can see the conundrum. No one is producing airbender children any longer, and while there are Earth Kingdom citizens with Air Nomad ancestry somewhere in their family tree – including Kai and Ryu, the donors for the first two subjects – few of them are what we might call 'particularly spiritual.' An Air Acolyte would be ideal…if, of course, every single one hadn't gotten wiped out in the course of the Cataclysm."

Gikuro took a seat next to the computer, tented her fingers together, and leaned toward the young Naya – who'd simply been standing there all this time, apparently unbothered that no one was talking to her.

"And what was the difference with this one?" asked the Director dispassionately.

"A rather…outside the box donor suddenly presented himself a few months ago. Somehow he'd gotten wind of what we were up to, and told us he wished to help," said Doctor Moon. "It was the escaped terrorist, Zaheer."

That was enough to briefly leave the famously unflappable Director Gikuro with her mouth agape…though she covered it up a moment later.

"Zaheer, the man who almost single-handedly ended the world? Decided to help us?" she demanded incredulously.

"Like everything else he's done, only the spirits can speak to his reasons. But regardless, he turned out to be the key we were missing," the mustached biologist continued his tale. "In addition to claiming direct descent from Air Nomads, he'd lived an almost purely spiritual life. So we used some of his…ahem, 'donated material,' to fertilize one of your ova. Add in a few weeks of my patented artificial aging process, and…"

"And at long last, we have a pilot for Unit-A," Gikuro finished for him, now looking upon the little girl with a small smile of triumph. "Are you ready to report for duty, Operative Naya?"

Nothing in her voice or her demeanor suggested that she was in any way affected by the revelation that Naya was, biologically speaking, her daughter.

But then again…she'd never had much warmth to spare for her other child, had she?

"If that is what I am commanded, Director," said Naya, just as tonelessly as in the present day. She looked up at Gikuro, as if expecting further orders.

Doctor Moon hung his head in shame. "Yes…that's the one side-effect I haven't managed to contravene," he muttered. "I was able to implant general knowledge and piloting skills through your machine learning program well enough, but her psychosocial development clearly hasn't kept pace. She's essentially a blank slate, barely able to function without explicit instructions. She won't even eat unless I tell her."

"Oh, that was hardly a bug, but a feature," she told him calmly, her eyes not leaving the girl. "I designed the program with this end in mind – modified from Doctor Sheng's work, which the Second Emperor kindly 'lent' us. She's perfect as she is, Doctor. MIRAI thanks you for your dedicated service."

"After all that harm and suffering to get a viable pilot…you wanted a little brainwashed puppet?" shouted Doctor Moon, leaping to his feet and balling his hands into fists. "You deceived me! I'd never have used that program if I knew it came from that monster Sheng!"

Gikuro also rose up to a standing position, and her height meant that this made for a far more intimidating effect.

"While we're on the subject of deception, let's not be hypocritical, Doctor Moon," she said. "Unless you have another way of explaining why you have two travel bags packed by the door?"

The other scientist's tan skin blanched noticeably.

He remained silent for several moments, steadfastly avoiding Gikuro's piercing gaze. Then, in a much smaller voice, he spoke, "Naya's my daughter in every way that counts. She deserves a chance to be more than the weapon you and Saahasik designed her to be. I won't fail her…the way I failed her sisters."

"How sentimental," she commented, in a way that made it sound like the worst insult she could think of. "Well, let me ask you this, then. Who else knows about her as of now?"

"No one," Doctor Moon responded defiantly. "And I'm damn sure gonna keep it that way, so that none of you bastards can…!"

He never got a chance to complete that sentence, because in that moment, Gikuro drew a small stone from her pocket and calmly waved her hand.

In the blink of an eye, the rock flew straight through the other scientist's forehead. It came out the other end coated in red.

"Now, let's be getting along, Operative Naya," she said to the girl, not bothering to offer Doctor Moon a second glance as he slumped to the ground.

"Yes, ma'am," was the artificial Air Nomad's toneless answer, allowing herself to be led away by the hand.

[-]

None of the pilots had reacted aloud as these latest images flew through their minds. It was only once the sequence was over that they really had a chance to process what they'd seen.

"And I thought…I was screwed up…" Yuro registered the bewilderment they all felt.

In some ways, these latest revelations explained a lot: Naya's unnerving lack of emotion, Gikuro's secrecy around the girl…but other parts just seemed to raise more questions.

Iraki wasn't sure what to think about any of it. Even finding out their mother was a murderer had surprisingly little impact. Honestly, it wasn't something they'd have really put past her.

It was an open question where they were now, or if "where" was even the right question. After being shunted from Yuro's memories into Naya's, now they were apparently nowhere, with no awareness of sight, sound, or touch – save each other's voices. Clearly, they were still linked through Harmony, at least on some level.

"I can't stand this," said Sagi agitatedly. "We're skydiving through everyone's worst traumas, while out there in the real world, our bodies are busy massacring who knows how many people!"

"I do not find the recently reviewed remembrances particularly 'traumatic,' in actuality," Naya pointed out. "They are the facts, and there is no rational reason to belabor them."

"Only 'cuz you've been brainwashed literally since birth. Well…for a given definition of 'birth,' anyway," Yuro snapped at the other girl. "Any normal person would want the Director's head on a stick for that crap."

For just a moment, the twin-tailed girl sounded like her old, sarcastic self. But it didn't last long, as an overwhelming sense of panic pervaded through their shared consciousness.

"Hold on…is this mind control stuff contagious? What've I been doin', lettin' a freak like that into my head?!" she cried out. "I…I want out of this! Disconnect me, I can't take another frickin' second!"

"That's not how it works and you know it," Sagi told her firmly, though he was clearly far from his comfort zone as well. "We're stuck like this until Iraki leaves the Avatar State. Though, admittedly…we are kinda in new territory here…"

"Exactly! New territory, new rules!" exclaimed Yuro, seizing onto his words like a lifeline. "Gravel-for-brains, shut it off already! You've already seen the crap in my past, and the ice-queen's…you don't wanna see what your boy-toy's been hidin', right?"

Yuro – and therefore, all of them – realized her mistake as soon as she said it. Iraki's brain was already full to bursting, so no, they really didn't want to learn anymore, thank you very much. They weren't sure they'd be able take it.

Besides, Sagi didn't have any secrets from them…did he?

But with their mental landscape so volatile, the merest hint of the question, the tiniest sliver of curiosity, was apparently enough.

Enough for the information to come searing into their collective consciousness, all at once.

"No…No, Iraki, please don't…!" Sagi tried to intervene, but it was too late.

This didn't play out as an entire, mover-like scene, the way it had with Yuro and Naya. Just four words. Four little words that Sagi had done everything in his power to hide from them.

Four little words that shattered Iraki's entire existence.

"W…Was it…?" they said, their stutter manifesting for the first time in ages when addressing their boyfriend. "All…a lie…?"

Like a flame doused with cold water, the Avatar State sputtered into nothingness, and all four of them awakened with a start.

[-]

"You can't leave it there!" protested Korra, as the scene dissipated. "What were the four words?"

But Iraki was no longer moving. They simply stood there, in the midst of the azure void, their chest slowly heaving with their unsteady breaths.

Korra walked around the younger Avatar, and stopped cold when she saw the tears welling up in their eyes.

"Okay…Okay, fine. You don't have to tell me," she added after a few moments, now feeling immensely guilty. It was strange, given that they were her reincarnation, but she'd begun to develop a certain amount of…protectiveness, toward Iraki. "Let's change the subject, alright? About what we saw in Naya's memories…"

Iraki exhaled deeply, wiping the stinging tears away with the cuff of their sleeve, before saying, "What about them?"

"Come on, you know what I mean," insisted Korra, crossing her arms. "What they said about Zaheer? 'The man who almost single-handedly ended the world'? What in the name of Wan's bastard son was that about?"

"That…should become clear, pretty soon," they replied evasively. "There's just one part left to show you."

[-]

Ba Sing Se was gone.

Iraki blinked several times, their disbelieving brain struggling to comprehend what it was seeing. They'd expected destruction and ruination – after all they'd witnessed in their brief moments of lucidity – but this was something else entirely.

For the Impenetrable City wasn't merely in ruins. It'd been leveled to the ground, stray piles of ash and quietly burning wood the only hints that a city had ever existed here at all. Its famous walls were little but dust and powder.

And there wasn't a single living soul to be seen, in any direction.

Which…was another matter entirely. They were viewing the city around them, rather than from up above. Somehow, their HOTU had been knocked out of the air during the ruckus.

And, judging by the damage indicators and error messages flashing around their cockpit…not particularly gently.

"This…was just supposed to be 'shock and awe,' right?" said Yuro, voicing the horror no one else could. With Iraki and Sagi still struck speechless by what they'd just shared, it fell to her to be the voice of conscience – a role she was entirely unsuited for.

Meanwhile, the Avatar belatedly realized the com line in their HOTU was blinking. Unsure whether they'd even be able to vocalize an answer for the person on the other end, they nonetheless found themselves reaching for the button.

"…llo? Hello…? Sweet baby seal-otters, I think I got through!" came Buki's frantic voice. "Iraki, we've been trying to reach you for almost three hours! Your mom practically blew a gasket!"

"Wh…What…?" Iraki mumbled hoarsely. Had they truly been in the Avatar State that long?

"I'd love to get a full debrief, so much wonderful data to sift through…but ach, no, there's no time for that!" the researcher exclaimed. "You four need to get back in the air, pronto! Before it reaches Zaofu!"

"Z…Zaofu…?" they repeated, without understanding. "What…What're you t…talking about…?

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, then, "Iraki, can you tell me the last thing you remember?"

Iraki was hesitant to speak the story aloud…but ultimately it came out unbidden, their guilty conscience forcing the sordid, horrific details to the surface. Buki listened to this in utter silence – which was very much unlike her.

Eventually, though, once the words were spent and Iraki felt they could hardly breathe any longer, she asked, "So…you've got no memory at all of what happened next? Man, that's a mother of a blank to fill in…"

Then, with the air of someone who was breaking the news that a beloved family member had just passed, she said, "Iraki, the Cataclysm hit Ba Sing Se about ten minutes after you all arrived. It wiped out everything."

The Avatar didn't think their blood was capable of running colder than it'd already been, but they were wrong.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but…my theory is it was drawn by all the fighting. Chaos and discord are kinda its thing," Buki continued to explain. "Not to mention some of their Light Crystals probably got damaged in the confusion. So when it slammed straight into those Safe Zones, they just…shattered. And the Spiritus tenebris moved in like shark-squids scenting blood."

"S…So…" murmured Iraki. "Wh…Where is it n…now? Wait…Wait, when you m…mentioned Zaofu…"

"It took out the entire air fleet the Empire deployed to Ba Sing Se. Down to a man," stated Buki. "Buuuuuut Saahasik kinda sorta…also sent one against the Red Lotus. Guess he figured the bigger target needed more manpower, hence you four. But now that the biggest city in the Kingdom-Formerly-Known-as-Earth has been wiped out…"

"She went off to finish the job," Sagi interjected, speaking for the first time since they'd emerged from that mental realm. "She's right, we don't have a choice. If we can avoid having even more deaths on our hands, then we need to try."

That confirmed that the others could hear what Buki was saying, and therefore, that the Harmony System was still operational; normally, going into Full Harmonization left their mental link strained and weak for hours afterward.

But, the Avatar supposed, this'd been an abnormal day in a lot of ways.

Still, that wasn't where their first thoughts went. With a bitterness that sounded utterly foreign on their tongue, they said, "H…How come you c…care? They…They're just…worthless h…humans…"

"I don't think that way! You've seen my mind, you know that!" shouted Sagi, his voice cracking with distress. "Look…after everything we just saw, if you wanna disconnect from me or Naya or whoever, then fine. I'll go save those people, even if I have to do it alone."

And with that, he began activating the thrusters on Unit-W – or rather, thruster, as one was apparently damaged beyond repair. Still, with a bit of difficulty, he managed to make it into the air.

"We have been ordered to intercept the target. That is sufficient for my purposes," Naya declared immediately afterward, joining him without another word. Despite the damage to her own HOTU, she piloted it with expert technique.

That left just Iraki and Yuro – and technically, the still-unconscious Zuha – on the ground. After a few seconds, the Avatar heard her short, panting breaths.

"I…really don't see the point in this. Just more senseless fightin'," whispered Yuro, her every utterance dripping with exhaustion. "But…hey, why not. This is the only reason I got left to live, right?"

Unit-F too rose into the sky, albeit at a lazy, uneven hover, rather than the purposeful precision that guided the others. But still, after a few seconds, Iraki was alone.

The Avatar sat there for several minutes, in silence. At one point, their eyes were drawn to the side, toward a piece of reflective metal that must've come loose in the crash. They stared at the hollow eyes and sunken skin of the person they hated most in the world.

Not their mother. Not the Second Emperor. Not Sagi…even after he'd reached into their chest, and crushed their heart into splinters.

Iraki swore quietly, activated Unit-E's thrusters, and began to fly.

[-]

They never caught up with the others.

Because Harmony remained active, Iraki knew that the other three units must've still, at minimum, been functional. But Sagi and Naya had too much of a head-start, and in the state she was in, they sort of doubted Yuro was capable of flying straight for long.

So, with no way to track the Cataclysm as it proceeded across the continent, they elected to do the next best thing, and make a scorpion-beeline for Zaofu.

It was a surprisingly lonely experience, flying without someone else's voice in their head. Much as they'd always resented the inherent intrusion and loss of privacy that came with piloting the HOTU, this dead silence was almost worse.

Technically, Buki was still available on the com line if they needed to chat, but with Spirit Energy supplies in Unit-E so depleted, they'd been advised to reserve that option for emergencies only.

Besides…it wasn't like they really had much to converse with the eccentric researcher about, anyway.

Ba Sing Se and Zaofu were many days' apart by ground transport, but air travel was a very different story. Unit-E flew through the clouds as fast as Iraki could push it, consciously pushing everything from their mind but that singular goal.

It was easier, that way. For so many reasons.

The mission was simple. The mission was straightforward.

The mission didn't force them to think about the fact that one of their teammates was a wreck of depression and self-loathing. That another was a lab creation, mentally conditioned to be their mother's unthinking pawn.

That the last…wasn't even…

Iraki shook their head. No…No, they weren't going to let themselves get caught up in all that.

They would focus on the easy part: getting to Zaofu, and somehow convincing an entire battalion of Imperial Forces to stand down and abandon their attack, lest they attract the attentions of…

The Avatar was only just beginning to realize the full extent of how difficult this mission was going to be, when the Metal City of Zaofu finally appeared on the horizon.

And it became clear, with a single glance, that they were too late.

The Cataclysm wasn't approaching Zaofu, ready to lay it utterly to waste, as it had a hundred other cities before.

The Cataclysm was here.

Iraki looked upon the thing that had ended the world, in all its horrific glory.

[-]

"No…that can't be…" said Korra, the breath practically disappearing from her lungs. "It can't be…"

But Iraki didn't answer. They simply waved their hand over the visions, bringing the sequence of events to their final conclusion.

[-]

"Yoru! Naya! Sagi!" wailed Iraki, holding onto their unit's controls for dear life. "Someone, p…please! Just…Just answer me!"

But the maelstrom was so loud, and so chaotic, that it drowned out even words transmitted by thought. All around them, the Everstorm – the furious vortex of spirits that followed in the wake of the Cataclysm, wherever it roamed – was tossing about homes, creatures, and people as if they were twigs.

The greatest warriors of the Red Lotus, bender and non-bender alike, tried in vain to escape the tumultuous winds and splintering assaults from lesser Dark Spirits. Still others, the "true believers" like Pula, prostrated themselves before the spiritual onslaught, perhaps under the impression that their devotion would cause them to be spared.

It amounted to the same thing, in the end. They were all ripped apart with a level of equality that would've made Kunyomi proud.

Had, of course, she not likewise perished that day.

The others, even Yoru, had already been engaged in combat with the Cataclysm by the time they arrived, but in all the chaos they'd quickly lost track of each other. The indicator lights for the Harmony System were fading in and out, which suggested that at least one machine had already been lost.

But which one…?

Iraki didn't have the chance to even begin trying to find the answer. Fighting the Cataclysm, even in the most advanced war machine on the planet, turned out to be akin to a mosquito-gnat battling an elephant-mandrill. They could inflict glancing blows, but nothing of consequence.

Meanwhile, the Cataclysm rained down death and destruction on a truly incomprehensible scale. With every step it took, men died; with every blast from its mouth or eyes or flailing tentacles, another portion of the world experienced oblivion.

The only reason they were still alive was that they were so insignificant, the monster hadn't yet taken notice of them. Its path of devastation was random and undirected.

Nevertheless, Iraki persisted, pushing their HOTU to its absolute limit. Already damaged and depleted from the battle at Ba Sing Se, the mech's innards were a cacophony of warning lights and flashing messages, cautioning them in no uncertain terms that continuing to fight was tantamount to suicide.

That message didn't have the deterrent effect its manufacturers probably intended.

Blades, missiles, Spirit Cannons – Iraki unleashed every last weapon that Unit-E had left to offer. But the Cataclysm didn't even slow down, as it reached to shred Zaofu's famous platinum domes like they were wet paper.

That was…until another unit flew in the way.

"Sagi…" Iraki gasped out, for a moment forgetting entirely that they were supposed to be mad at the boy. "Sagi, no! Get out of there!"

But Unit-W remained hovering in place, obstructing the Cataclysm's view of the city below. A city where dwelt thousands, who – despite aligning themselves under the protection of a group the rest of the world deemed terrorists – were largely innocents.

"It doesn't have to be like this!" said Sagi loudly, though the effect was marred somewhat by his damaged thrusters cutting in and out, preventing him from holding a steady position. "There's still something in you that's human, I can sense it! And I'd know that better than anyone!"

To underline his impassioned plea, Unit-W lowered the barrel of its primary weapon. Iraki supposed it really wouldn't have done much good, either way.

"Stand down, please," begged their erstwhile boyfriend, his voice quivering but strong. "Before it's too late. Before there's nothing left."

For the briefest of moments, the Cataclysm was still. For the briefest of moments, it seemed as if Sagi's heartfelt words might've actually gotten through.

Then, the Cataclysm opened its gaping maw, and sent forth its most powerful blast yet.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, across those last few seconds. Iraki was helpless to do anything but watch as the spiritual energy, more powerful than their own piddling Spirit Cannons by a thousandfold, careened toward Unit-W, burning away the very air itself as it traveled its unerring path.

The unbridled display of power enveloped Sagi utterly…and moments later, when it slowly faded from view, there was nothing left behind.

Unit-E exploded, in a burst of blinding energy.

That was finally enough to draw the Cataclysm's attention. And what it saw, when it turned its enormous head, was a spectacle that would've elicited absolute terror from any man – were it still capable of experiencing that emotion.

For the first time in ten years, Iraki had entered the Avatar State without the HOTU as a crutch. Eyes blazed with the bright white of Raava, while features that were ordinarily so timid and standoffish practically burned with purest fury.

Wielding a power that wasn't entirely their own, Iraki stretched out their hands to the surrounding wasteland.

In this state, their birthright would not be denied, and the elements readily obeyed their master. First a sphere of air surrounded their body, and then rapidly rotating rings of earth, fire, and water joined it, encircling their Avatar in a protective sheath.

"This is where it ends," they said, and though the effect was suitably terrifying, something about the reverberating echoes also seemed…off. "One way or another."

Arms outstretched and ready for the battle to end all others, Iraki's sphere flew straight toward the face of their ultimate foe.

And that was where the vision ended.

[-]

Korra's eyes blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a dream – or perhaps more accurately, a nightmare.

"Why…Why did you stop it there?" she demanded, her voice coming out scratchy and parched. "Where's the rest?"

But for one last time, Iraki shifted in place, avoiding her ferocious gaze. "I…can't show you any more," they said, again looking as if they were choosing each word very carefully. "That's where my story ends."

"Oh, don't give me that hippo-bull!" shouted Korra, taking a threatening step toward the younger Avatar. This close, the difference in their heights caused her to tower over them. "You try to dodge the question one more freaking time, and I swear I'll…!"

"Korra, that…that's not what I mean," Iraki cut in, throwing up both hands placatingly. "Like I said…this is where my story ends."

The waterbender stared blankly back at them for a few, pregnant beats. Then, her eyes slowly widened with understanding.

"You…died," she whispered. "That's the final memory you can show me, because it's the final one you ever had."

"Well, erm…yes. And no," replied Iraki, biting their lip. "That last part wasn't my past, you see. It was my present. I'm fighting the Cataclysm as we speak."

They let out a weary, ragged sigh, before adding in a lower voice, "But yeah…if nothing changes from the path we're on now, then there's no question I will die. While in the Avatar State. And you know exactly what that'll mean."

"The reincarnation cycle will be broken. And the Avatar will cease to exist," Korra finished for them. "That's why you called yourself 'the last Avatar' when we met."

"I mean…not that the chain wasn't already pretty busted up before I was born," said Iraki. "But it's in very real danger of shattering for good. That's why I braved time and space to bring you here."

Her successor waved a hand toward the shimmering pool of images they'd been using to view their life, and the visions shifted in turn. Instead of the final battle at Zaofu, now the streets of Republic City – or, no, this must've been Empire City – now loomed before her.

But the city looked…different, somehow. More substantive, more real. Korra spent several moments trying to put her finger on it…

Before a rooster-pigeon flew up from one of the telephone wires, exited the image, and landed on Korra's arm, chirruping loudly for food.

"I'm sorry, Korra. I lied a bit. This…isn't really the future. At least not exactly," Iraki explained. "It's a portion of the Spirit World that reflects the future. And that means, as the bridge between humans and spirits…you can venture through it."

"What're you talking about?" asked Korra, her mouth agape.

"All this time, you've been viewing this world from afar. Seeing only my perspective," Iraki told her. Their voice was slowly but steadily picking up in pace, as if they only had a limited time to speak. "But now, you need to find your own way. This is as far as I'm able to Guide you."

"No…No!" she said, at first tepidly, then firmly. "You're telling me you're just going to…leave? Just like that? When you haven't even answered the most important question!"

Korra threw out her arms, looking increasingly frantic. She felt uncomfortably similar to Yuro, when she'd collapsed into utter despair right before the mission, but there was no use dwelling on such matters. Whatever the cost, she needed answers.

"Why? Why?!" Korra screamed. "Why does this 'Cataclysm' of yours…have my face?"

For the first time in several minutes, Iraki's light-green eyes met hers head-on.

"I'm sure you're tired of me saying this. But I can't answer that question," they muttered. "Unless you walk your own path, and find the keys to this journey yourself, then nothing we've done here will matter in the end."

"Quit talking in riddles!" Korra exclaimed, now blinking away the beginnings of angry tears. "I just…I just don't get why this means you have to leave me alone?"

It was almost pathetic how desperate she sounded. This was just a kid, her own reincarnation no less, and yet Korra couldn't help but distress over the idea of being separated from them.

"I never said you'd be alone. Only that I can't lead you any further. I have…business of my own, to see to," said the younger Avatar. "But you didn't come to this place on your own, and you won't be able to leave it that way, either. You need to find the other two, and together, bring an end to this wretched future…before it's too late."

"Asami…" Korra realized aloud. "And…Amon."

"But until you do find them…just because I can't be your Guide, doesn't mean I'd leave you completely on your own," Iraki continued, now turning away from their predecessor. The cool blue mists of Raava that surrounded them were already beginning to swallow up their scrawny form. "This is the Spirit World, remember? And there's always a spirit willing to lend a hand…to those willing to ask for it."

"Wait…don't go! Tell me more! Tell me something, dammit!" she cried out, but it was too late; the miasma had already swallowed her reincarnation into their depths.

Several moments passed, in complete silence. Slowly it dawned on Korra that, once again, whatever Iraki tried to say…she was alone.

All of her pent-up emotions, over the course of the last hour, washed over her like a single, titanic wave. Korra collapsed to her knees, clutching at herself.

"I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what to believe!" she yelled, at no one in particular. The tears were falling freely now, though out of despair or rage or both, she couldn't say. "Just…someone, please. They said I need to find my own way. But I don't know how. I don't think…I ever really did."

The first sign of his approach was something she felt, rather than saw. Despite that she was lying face-down, weeping upon a ground that didn't actually exist, as he drew nearer she found her heart – which'd been cold and clammy with misery – gradually swelling, all on its own.

Like from the sun, on a hot day. Or from a well-brewed cup of tea.

"Hello, Korra," he said.

Slowly, she looked up at her visitor.

He was old, and stout, and somehow…familiar. But she couldn't place it immediately. Though he lacked the ethereal glow of many spirits, there was no question his every essence radiated with something far more powerful.

"Who…Who are you…?" was the only question she managed to choke out, in the maelstrom of so many.

The spirit stroked at his long, bushy beard, as if considering the question.

"Let's see…" he murmured kindly, as he offered her the warmest smile she'd ever seen. "Why don't you call me…Uncle?"