I only had a split second to react, reeling back as the equalist swung, until my hands hit the ground and I pressed upwards, leveling the equalist with a well-placed kick to the chin as I sprung out of their grasp. The whole arena was ripe with screams now, and I was on high alert. Water, I needed water –

Just as the equalist gained their composure again, I spotted the bucket that the players used to wipe off and heal up after the game. As the equalist swung at me again, I slipped into a low stance, drawing the water towards me and evading them, slipping around to their back as they righted themselves and leveled me with another swing of their gloved hand.

This time, I was ready. With a battle cry, I bent the water at them, covering their whole arm as the glove fired. The equalist cried out in pain, convulsing as they were shocked by their own weapon, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

I caught my breath, my chest heaving with the adrenaline of the fight. What was that – what was going on?

I rushed to the platform, remembering what Korra had said before. Amon had made an announcement about cancelling the finals – and my blood turned cold as I looked out at the ring, realizing that he had made good on his promise.

He was there, in the center of the ring, flanked by equalists, his mask just as empty and jarring as it had been the last time I saw it. Even though I was standing at the platform and he was far, far away, the dread pooled in my stomach, the sense of wrongness, like his mere presence was rotting me from the inside. I grit my teeth.

He faced the Wolfbats, striding forward with purpose, his equalists following behind him. My eyes widened as it dawned on me – Amon was going to take their bending. The Wolfbats weren't like the gangsters he had previously "equalized" – these pro benders would be a statement for his cause, a different kind of example. I felt sick. Yes, the Wolfbats were cheaters, and they were rude, and nasty, but they didn't deserve this – no one deserved to be stripped of their identity, their ability, especially not for a selfish political statement.

Amon neared them, practically gliding across the ring. There were so many thoughts racing in my mind – where were the police? Had the equalists really taken them all out? What about Korra – was she hurt? The panic felt like ice in my veins, paralyzing me, compounding upon the sea of dread, as I stared across the stands, dead-eyed. All these people in the stands were watching, terrified, as Amon closed the distance. And there was no Korra enacting some heroic plan, no Mako beside me to offer reassurance. It was only me, and Amon, and the piercing wall of fear that separated us.

The Wolfbats moved to fight – to show Amon that they were worthy of keeping their bending, but before they could, the equalists surged forwards, firing nets at the pro benders' legs, their arms – binding them until they were helpless on the floor, and through the fear, through the dread and the panic, that shot through me like a bolt.

At the Revelation, Amon had given the benders he faced a fighting chance. He had fought them, and even though he had won, every time, there was some honor in that – in a duel, in a desperate struggle for victory. But this was pathetic, it was disgraceful – it was cheating, just like the Wolfbats had cheated in their game. And through the fear, rage blossomed, boiling my blood. Something in me snapped, and I snarled. I didn't care that I was alone, or that I was outmatched. I wasn't going to stand by and watch a coward destroy the lives of three more people.

I spun on my heel, facing away from the ring, pacing towards the exit. As I neared it, I gained speed, using the back wall as a turning point as I swerved, running full tilt at the railing. The wind rang in my ears, like the roar of the crowd during a game, and I jumped, planting my foot firm on the railing as I raised my hands high, snapping at the wrists. As I flew over the rail, a wave rushed to meet me, engulfing my legs. I pushed forward, and the wave crested, spitting me out on the opposite end of the ring. I met the ground hard, cushioning myself with my hand as the water spilled into the ring. I scowled, slicking back a stray piece of hair before I stood, heart pointing, and leveled a shaking finger at Amon.

"Hey, asshole!" I screamed, before I could stop myself. My blood was pounding in my ears, my gut screaming wrong wrong wrong, telling me to run as far away from this evil, unearthly man as I could. I pressed the feelings down, breathing out, and dropping into a practiced stance, the water jumping to my command as I entered octopus form. The equalists around me fell into their own fighting stances, but they didn't concern me – unlike the one in the stands, none of them were equipped with those electric gloves. Octopus form would serve as a shield from their attacks, the water circling close to my center, my arms bent, fingers splayed as I controlled the tendrils. Through the haze of water, Amon's mask was distorted, a melting façade as he turned to look at me, but not to face me. I snarled, willing the anger to fuel me, to melt the icy fear and turn my blood to fire.

"Why don't you fight someone who can actually fight back!"

Amon stayed put. Instead, his remaining equalists sprinted towards me, the others restraining the Wolfbats as they fought. Their own masks stared back at me, cold and dead. I rolled my shoulders, leaning my weight on my back foot as I prepared for their assault, my breath hot as they pounced.

They were quick, and they were level-headed, but the form I had chosen offered me steady protection against their close-range chi attacks. I whipped around, my senses heightened from the blood pulsing with adrenaline in my veins, the fear only elevating my form. I moved sharp and quick, my feet planted firm as my arms controlled the tendrils of water.

The first equalist was easy to snag, a sitting turtleduck as they sprinted towards me. They jumped as I swiped under them, my feint working as I used another tendril to throw them over the side of the ring. A second equalist tried to attack me from behind, but my head whipped around, two tendrils smacking into them, as I threw all my force into the attack. The water hit them like a ton of bricks, forcing them back and over the edge of the ring. The last equalist faced me, and I squared myself against them, willing my breathing to stay steady even as my braid spilled over my shoulders, destroyed in the fray. I was prepared to strike, but just as the equalist stepped forward, Amon raised a hand.

"Wait," he said, calm as ever. I bristled, my shoulders hunching as I reinforced my form, staring down the equalist even as they left their fighting stance, retreating behind Amon.

"You wish to fight me?" Amon's posture changed, his knees bending slightly as he sank into a ready position. "Well, go right ahead."

My fear spiked, the adrenaline pounding in my skull. I knew I had to act, and I had to do it fast, before Amon could react. I roared, drawing power from the sound, as I dropped the octopus form, instead drawing back and twisting my hands, forming a long, twisting funnel of water. With a twist of my ankle, my stance hardened and my shoulder shifted, firing first one, then a barrage of ice spikes from the whirlpool, directly at the equalist.

He dodged with no effort – he moved like water itself, weaving between the spikes as if they were nothing, and as my eyes met his for a fraction of a second, only a split instance, I felt something tug at me. It was that same dark, dismal feeling in the pit of my stomach that always invaded my senses whenever Amon was near, but amplified, compounded in a way that made me lose my breath.

My foot slipped, and my stance collapsed, as I lost control of my own body. But I breathed in, fighting against it, and I ducked, only a fraction away from where Amon's hand would have been. The fear spiked, but I knew now that I was truly fighting for my life – for my bending, and the bending of others as well. I had to win. I grit my teeth, and I pressed upward, punching into the air, leveling a pillar of water at his head.

It wasn't by much, only by a fraction of an inch, but my aim was off – my stance a bit weaker than usual, my fist not as tightly clenched. I knew exactly where I had aimed, but my bending hadn't held true. I gasped as Amon surged towards me again, and for a moment I felt frozen. My blood went cold inside me, the fear seeping through my veins like ice as I faced him – eye to eye, man to man.

I breathed heavy out my nose, visualizing my centering stance – form a triangle with my palms, outward press, then draw my hands up my hips to my chest, and breathe – breathe!

I ducked, narrowly avoiding his grasp, his hand grazing the tip of my nose as he grasped at nothing. I gasped, trying to think of my next move –

But before I could, something jabbed me sharp in the shoulder, then the other, and the center of my back. I coughed, falling forward, my arms useless. I screamed, trying to shift my weight to use my legs, but the chi blocker was too fast, wrapping one of their rope traps around my knees until I fell to the ground.

I writhed, blowing the hair out of my face, and Amon knelt to my level.

"You fought well, waterbender," Amon soothed, his voice calm and icy-cold. I shivered at his proximity, my muscles straining against the chi block, my blood cold at his presence, at the power he held.

"That fight wasn't fair!" I spat, sneering at him. My rage-filled front was the only thing holding back my fear, my hopelessness, and my grief. If he took my bending – I don't know who I would be. My bending was the only thing that lifted me up in this world, the only thing that freed me from where I came from, from who my parents were. My bending helped be befriend Korra, and Mako, and Bolin – it gave me pro bending, and a life on my own. Without it, what would I do?

I spat in the face of it, denying reality. Even if I lost it, even if Amon won the day – he would never be able to defeat Korra.

"You're right," Amon replied, his response shocking me. "I don't want a fight with you today. I will spare you, out of respect for your valiance."

My mouth fell open, and Amon waved, the chi blockers hoisting me up to throw me into the pool.

"No, wait-!" I cried, finally regaining some feeling in my hands. Amon was already walking towards the Wolfbats, Tahno secured between two chi blockers, in position for Amon to remove his bending. I stretched my hand out towards them, trying desperately to get back, to help-

The chi blockers threw me over the side of the ring, into the pool. The water crashed into me, knocking the breath out of me, but I couldn't spare any time to take in the pain. I forced my arms to move, and made quick work of the binding around my ankles. I surfaced with a gasp, staring at the ring with a fierce determination. Maybe, if I tried hard enough, I could pillar up to the platform just by bending with my feet, I could fight him, I could-

"Taro!" Korra cried. My head snapped towards the voice, and spotted the trio. Korra, Mako, and Bolin were tied to one of the pillars that supported the ring above it. The equalists must have grabbed them as soon as they hit the water after their match. I swam towards them with all my might, and as I neared them I noticed a fourth party – Pabu, nibbling at their bindings. I hauled myself onto the platform, my arms straining, before I found my footing and ran to them.

"Get us out of here!" Mako demanded, struggling against his bindings. He didn't have to for long though – before I could even tell the trio to move out of the way so I could slice through with a swift kick, Pabu finally cut through the rope with his teeth, and it fell to the ground.

"Yes, great job buddy!" Bolin cheered, but his praise was cut short, as an explosion ripped through the arena, shaking the ring above us. We all looked at each other, eyes dark with fear, before Korra set her jaw and sprinted forward, the pool turning to ice as she slid across it.

"I'm going after Amon! Taro, get them out safely!" Korra cried.

I grit my teeth, with a half a mind to follow her, but – she was right. Bolin and Mako needed to get out of here safely, and I was still recovering from the chi blockers. Korra would be far more useful in a fight against Amon – now it was my job to support my friends. I nodded my head, stiff, as she gazed towards the sky, towards Amon. This was her fight now.

"Be careful!" Mako called, and with that, Korra was pillaring upwards, towards Amon and, hopefully, victory.

I seethed in silence as I corralled Mako, Bolin, and Pabu onto a water pillar and bent them out of the pool. The bending strained against my chi, which was still aching because of the altercation with Amon, but I ignored it.

I felt so – powerless, so helpless. Korra was up there – I saw her, fire flaring as she fought the equalists, as the metalbenders did all they could, ushering civilians outside. I had been there – right there, right in front of Amon, and I couldn't beat him. It was as if his very presence warped bending, weakening it, sucking some spiritual force out of benders. Like he was a black hole of nonbender energy, consuming whatever power veered too close to him. I clenched my fists, ordering Mako and Bolin to help get these people out of the arena, as the glass overhead cracked with each new burst of flame.

Amon was so much more than just a powerful leader. There had to be something about him – something that made that pit in my gut. I knew now that it wasn't just my own fear. Something inside of me was reacting violently to whatever power he possessed, whatever gift the spirits gave him. His energy directly clashed against mine, and made my stomach drop, my veins turn to ice. I didn't know what it was – I might never know – but I wouldn't be so careless next time I saw him. He had faltered then, in the ring. He had made a misstep, or a miscalculation, when I dodged his grip. Something had changed then, and I could feel it still, in my gut, or in my soul, maybe. If I ever faced him again, I wouldn't be scared. I would be ready.

Everyone streamed out of the arena, and just as the last waves of civilians spilled out, something cracked, the sound of glass shattering spurring the last groups to push their way out of the venue. I ran towards the sound, hoping for a fight, for Korra to have been victorious –

But it was the exact opposite. Korra fell through the ceiling, only to be caught in a split second by Chief Beifong, depositing her in the stands. I fell into a sprint, catching up with Mako and Bolin as we rounded the corner and barreled into Korra, all of us wrapping her in a big hug.

"I'm so glad you're OK," Mako sighed, the relief clear in his voice.

"Me too," Bolin added, squeezing everyone into a tighter hug. My cheek pressed against Korra's shoulder, and I shook my head.

"I'm so sorry," I said. I didn't know if I was expressing my grief that she and Beifong hadn't won the battle, or that I hadn't been able to beat Amon, or even that I hadn't followed her when she chased after Amon and his supporters. I was just… sorry, sorry that this had all happened in the first place.

"Hey, don't be," Korra squeezed me tighter, then looked up at the rest of her friends. "I'm glad you're all safe too. I can't believe Amon did this."

We looked out, across the wreckage of the pro bending arena. The whole place was up in smoke, the glass of the roof shattered, the stands void of any supporters, any fans.

This wasn't just a lost battle. This was a declaration of war.