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.

34. Book Two, Ch 11: Dawn of the Final Day

A Cog in the Machine – Book Two, Chapter Eleven: Dawn of the Final Day

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.

[-]

None of the quartet got a single wink of sleep that night.

To be fair, it was a little difficult to relax when the world was slowly collapsing around them. Throughout the night, the pace of the distortions steadily escalated, swallowing up more and more of the scenery and sending it to who-knew-where.

It was as if reality itself was an apple, and some great, invisible giant was taking enormous bites out of it.

Mercifully, at least, the sun still rose on schedule, forcing the swarms of Dark Spirits who choked the night skies to retreat from view. As such, the first rays of dawn found them packing up their meager supplies and preparing to board the dragon-phoenix.

"This thing knows where Zaofu is, right?" demanded Asami, sounding even more irritable than usual as her mechanical eye whirred over the pale pink horizon. "At this rate, if we don't get there today, there may not be a Zaofu left to find."

As if to underscore her point, a mountain in the distance popped out of existence right before their eyes.

The spirit shot Asami a dirty look, presumably out of offense from being referred to as "this thing," but Uncle quickly mollified her with several gentle strokes across the beak.

"Trust me. She is more than capable," he said. "The dragon-phoenix is the counterpart to the lion-turtle. One guards the balance in the material world…and the other, the balance of the spirits. There is no place here she cannot find."

"Trust me, he says. Oh, that's rich," sniped Korra, crossing her arms and facing away from the others. "Look, just get me to this stupid 'Cataclysm' thing and I'll take care of it. No need for any more of your high-and-mighty 'wisdom of the elders' crap."

Amon practically slid over to her, pointing to the Avatar with both fingers in an exaggerated pose.

"Now, what's got her goat-gorilla?" he asked. When he received no response, he shrugged both padded shoulders. "Well, anyway. Time to fly, then?"

"There are no words for how ready I am to leave this decaying corpse of a temple," grumbled Asami, leaping up onto the dragon-phoenix's back without glancing back. "What're the rest of you waiting for?"

Korra, for her part, did elect to take a last, lingering look at the Northern Air Temple. The part of her closest to Zaheer felt a deep, instinctive pang at the ruinous state they were leaving it in.

But there was no helping it, she forcibly reminded herself. This entire world wouldn't exist for much longer.

And she would be the one to end it.

She supposed it was something she was going to have to get used to, given what lay ahead.

[-]

After flying across the Earth Kingdom for several hours, Korra was beginning to grow suspicious.

While Asami and Amon weren't speaking with each other – indeed, almost no words had been exchanged between any of them since departing the Air Temple – it was hard to miss the furtive glances that passed between the pair every so often. Korra would've almost been willing to chalk it up as flirting, if the very idea didn't make her long to soak her brain in bleach.

No, it was more like the two were in on some secret joke the Avatar wasn't aware of. Which seemed strange, given how vocal Asami had been in her disappointment with this Amon's…

"Hey, did any of you see that shark-squid back there? I must say, it really was armed to the teeth."

…Eccentricities.

Of course, bad puns or not, there wasn't a version of Amon in the cosmos whom Korra trusted. And she was making a concerted effort to remind herself not to trust the alternate Asami. No matter how much she looked, sounded, and…felt like her girlfriend, the cyborg had killed her in another timeline.

She had to make sure never to forget that.

And so, on the off chance the two of them were plotting something, Korra knew she needed to be ready. The one advantage she had was that she was intimately familiar with backstabbing and skullduggery.

It didn't sound like her alternate had been raised by the Red Lotus, in either of her companions' Flows. Which meant they weren't going to be used to an Avatar who could play that game just as well as they.

Regardless, that was a bridge to be crossed when she came to it. For now, she needed to focus on the path ahead.

Which was a little difficult when that path was liable to vanish from existence at a moment's notice.

"Whoah!" shouted Uncle, pulling sharply at the dragon-phoenix's long whiskers to avoid a rift that suddenly appeared directly in front of them. All four clung onto the spirit for dear life as she tilted nearly a full ninety degrees.

"We've managed to fly a course that avoids any major trouble so far. Well…relatively speaking," he said as they righted themselves, the first proper words he'd spoken in hours. "But unless we take a significant detour, we'll soon pass straight over the Great Divide."

"Is that a problem?" asked Asami, frowning as she worked to fix her hair, which'd gotten quite thoroughly tangled with her face's mechanical parts.

"Well…I'm honestly not certain," Uncle replied hesitantly. "My understanding of this Flow's history is…incomplete. But I can sense a great deal of spiritual energy concentrated on that point."

"Could it be the Cataclysm?" muttered Korra, hating that she needed to ask anything else of the old man but seeing little other choice. "I mean, could it have moved from Zaofu?"

Uncle shook his head. "As I said last night, the area surrounding Avatar Iraki is temporally locked. Nothing within it can move in or out," he explained. "And in any event, if it was the Cataclysm, you would be able to feel it too. Presuming that you do not, that means this is a spirit outside the Avatar's purview."

"That makes no sense," said Amon, taking on an unusually severe tone. "The Avatar is the bridge between the material and spiritual worlds. There shouldn't be a spirit she isn't connected to."

"You're right about one thing," Uncle whispered, stroking his beard in contemplation. "There shouldn't be."

[-]

Korra knew the Great Divide. Their last hideout, before she'd been sent on her mission to Republic City, had been immediately adjacent to it, and she'd trained with Ghazan on multiple occasions in its rocky gorge.

What stretched before her looked nothing like the Great Divide.

Cold steel, rather than stone, covered every inch of the canyon. Platforms had been built out of the walls at perfectly spaced intervals, each housing an identical enclosed structure. It was almost as if the entire Great Divide had been turned into one gigantic apartment complex – except these had clearly been designed for business rather than residence.

The floor of the ravine, too, was completely overtaken by advanced technology. Everywhere Korra looked, she saw construction equipment, scientific instruments, and more of those strange flat screens that displayed moving pictures and text.

And towering above it all were three strategically spaced spires, each topped with a cluster of glowing white crystals. Korra guessed they were miniature versions of the Light Crystals that kept Empire City safe from the rampages of Dark Spirits.

It all reminded her a great deal of what she'd seen in the innards of MIRAI headquarters. Something that, she quickly realized, was far from a coincidence.

"Get me a readout on spiritual energy levels! And you, divert forty percent additional power to the containment field!" Gikuro barked out orders, pointing to her assistants rather than bothering to use their names. "This is the best test run we've had in months, so don't screw it up."

She and the rest of the staff, of whom there seemed to be at least a hundred, were all dressed in unremarkable gray uniforms. Several scrambled to follow her directives, but one, hunched over an array of numerous buttons and staring up at the flat box connected to it, adopted a sharp frown.

"For some reason, the ambient spirit energy in the air seems to be spiking at an alarming rate," he said. "I'm not sure the containment field will hold if we continue to…sweet Yangchen's grace, what is that?!"

"It seems we have been spotted," Amon observed, as if there was any chance a massive glowing dragon-phoenix wouldn't have been.

Gikuro's men immediately took up fighting stances, revealing them to be an even mix of archers and benders of all stripes – though the former were wielding bows utterly unlike any Korra had ever seen. But the director waved them back.

"I had a feeling this was only a matter of time. Ever since my spy in dear Saahasik's entourage told me you escaped his custody," she spoke in loud, resonating tones, enough so that they could hear her clearly a hundred feet above. "Please land, Avatar Korra. I'd like to exchange words."

Somehow, it never even occurred to the stunned waterbender to disobey.

[-]

They were seated at a makeshift table directly in the middle of the gorge, right at the foot of what seemed to be the core of this entire setup. Countless wires from a multitude of machines ran to a single point, covered by a tarp.

"Can I, uh…ask what that…?" Korra began, pointing hesitantly.

"No, you may not," said Gikuro, interrupting her. "All things in their time, Avatar."

She sipped calmly from a metal can that was labeled as "tea," though from the look Uncle was giving her, he clearly didn't agree. She, in turn, peered at each of Korra's companions with narrowed eyes.

"Very interesting company you keep these days," murmured the earthbender. "I'm fairly certain I recognize all three of your compatriots. And equally certain that all of them are supposed to be dead."

"Yeah, well," Korra breathed out. "Hear there's a lot of that going around lately."

"Indeed. I'm not going to bother asking how you managed to separate from the Cataclysm. In truth, that matters very little," declared Gikuro, steepling her fingers together and leaning forward, so that the fluorescent lights rendered her glasses opaque. "More important is what you can do for MIRAI. For the world."

"Not interested," Korra said immediately, crossing her arms in defiance. "I've seen what kind of person you are…how you treat Iraki. There's no chance of a deal between us – none."

"My parenting methods aren't your concern. Though I'll admit I'm curious as to how you seem to know so much about them," the older woman told her icily. "And what of you three? General Iroh, Asami Sato, Noatak?"

Her lips twitched upward, just briefly, as she watched the Equalist leader nearly jump out of his seat.

"Yes, that's right, I know," she added, before he could object. "I know quite a number of things about you three. I wish we were reuniting under better circumstances, Ms. Sato…you truly were a magnificent mentor."

Asami's mechanical eye whirred in place, and her scowl deepened. "I don't even know who you are," she responded.

"Pity. Or perhaps not. It means we can start fresh," said Gikuro. "In any event, I'd like to know where you four were heading in such a great hurry. Buki triangulated your flight path, and it seems you were flying straight in the direction of…"

She pushed a sheaf of paper across the table, a map of the Earth Kingdom upon it.

"Zaofu," she finished, her lip curling.

"So what if we are?" demanded Korra. "Are you gonna stop us?"

"That depends," Gikuro stated noncommittally. "Clearly, at least a few of you are spirits. Which means you're the only ones who may be able to answer my questions."

As she spoke, another rift opened above them, causing one of the laboratories built into the cliffside to vanish in the blink of an eye. One of Gikuro's assistants ran past them, screaming the names of colleagues who could no longer answer him back.

"I've seen a great deal in my life. I thought there wasn't a single thing still capable of surprising me," she continued on, displaying absolutely no concern for the loss of life. "But this development is certainly…concerning. For almost a day now, these strange fissures have been opening all around my research site, apparently at random. Tell me what's going on."

None of them answered for a while, until Uncle leaned forward and said bluntly, "You would not understand what is happening to your world. And even if you did, I don't trust what you would do with that knowledge."

The director's face darkened. "Try me," she hissed.

"It is enough for you to know that you cannot stop what is coming," spoke Uncle, his words quiet and understated. "I'm sorry, but that is all I can tell you."

"Hippo-bull. Nothing is impossible. The only limit is how far you're willing to go to achieve your goals," Gikuro replied derisively. "Either way, you've all but confirmed that the source of these anomalies is the trouble in Zaofu. All four of the HOTU went radio silent over twenty-four hours ago. Any details you can share could make the difference whether they live or die."

"As if you care," Korra growled, surprising herself again with the surge of protectiveness toward her reincarnation. "Iraki's just a tool to you. Not a child."

"A tool, yes, but an invaluable one. We have no hope of vanquishing the Cataclysm for good without them," said Gikuro. "But every Varri-Drone we've tried to send to verify their status has gone offline the moment it entered Zaofu's airspace. If you're heading there, you must know something."

"I've heard enough," Asami suddenly snapped, leaping to her feet and extending a hand toward the Avatar. "Come on, why are we wasting time here? There's clearly nothing this woman can offer us. The sooner we all get back in the air, the better."

But the moment she did, Gikuro's guards took bending stances or raised those strange mechanical bows, encircling them in an instant.

"I should clarify, Ms. Sato. I wasn't asking," Gikuro told them coldly. "You'll find I'm very, very good at getting what I need. And what I need right now is information. Now you can either give it up the easy way, or…"

She motioned to the nearest man, who dutifully took aim, placed his finger upon a switch on the weapon's underside, and squeezed it once.

Amon roared with pain as a bolt shot clean through his left leg, flying so fast that Korra couldn't even see the motion blur. By the time she finished blinking, it was already embedded in the ground, stained with the masked man's blood.

"That…That was like…a really big window…" groaned Amon as he collapsed to the ground, clutching his leg, trying to stem the flow of still-gushing red. "Pane-full…"

When none of them gave him any reaction beyond stunned stares of horror, he crumbled, "Oh c'mon…like you'd have your best material…bleeding out on the ground…"

"Separate them, and bandage this one up. Enough so that he lives, but not so much that he forgets the pain," said Gikuro, her voice booming again with authority. "And keep a close eye on that thing. It moves an inch, you have my order to shoot it dead."

She gestured toward the dragon-phoenix, who'd spent most of the conference thus far standing to the side, shooting dirty looks toward the woman speaking so nastily to her companion.

"As for me…" she quickly added, standing up and closing her fist. Two small pillars of earth, perfectly economical in their use of force, rose up to trap Korra's arms.

"I'd like a few moments alone with our erstwhile Avatar."

[-]

"I've already told you, I don't know anything," Korra groaned through gritted teeth. She didn't know what the earthbender was doing to her, but it was one of the most painful experiences she'd ever had to withstand.

Gikuro had dragged her under the tarp, revealing that it hid another, much smaller lab building. This one only seemed big enough to contain two cramped rooms, and she was being restrained and tortured in the first one.

Her restraints were simple constructs of earth, a basic earthbending move most any talented bender could manage, but the torture was something else entirely. It was almost like the light, tingling sensation of one's limbs falling asleep, except that the tingling was inside her body.

And except that the tingling was steadily, unceasingly ramping up in intensity, until it was absolutely excruciating.

"What…What're you doing to me…?" she said, feeling as if she was about to throw up from the pain.

"Did you know that about seventy percent of the human skeleton is composed of bone mineral?" asked Gikuro. "Which is to say, matrices of small mineral crystals. Primarily calcium phosphate."

It took Korra a few moments to parse the meaning of this seemingly random bit of trivia…until she felt a sickening, agonizing crack inside one of her arms, and her eyes widened with sudden, horrified understanding.

"You're bending…my bones…?" she gasped out, through gritted teeth.

"Not an easy feat, I can tell you. It's no wonder the technique wasn't discovered until the advent of modern science," Gikuro explained, the calmness in her voice far more terrifying than if she'd been raising it. "Bending blood is one thing; waterbenders are used to being at a distance from their element. But earthbenders typically rely on direct, tactile contact. Adjusting your mindset to affect such miniscule crystals, ones you can't even see, is beyond the capacity of your average lumbering, rock-throwing ignoramus."

Her finger twitched, almost imperceptibly, but the effect it had on Korra's body was immediate. Now that she was expecting it, she realized the fracture in her bone was deepening, like it was being pierced by a miniature drill.

"Tell me the truth, Avatar, or I break you in two. Literally," said Gikuro. She dipped her hand to the side, and the worst of the pain abated – for the moment, at least. "What is going on in Zaofu?"

Korra sat there for several moments, panting deeply. While Gikuro was no longer actively breaking her skeleton further, neither had she mended it; the sting was dull but unending, a constant reminder of just how viciously she was at this monstrous woman's mercy.

Finally, marshalling what little strength she had left, she answered, "All I can say is…Iraki's only chance of survival…is us getting there in time. Please…if you love them, even a tiny bit…let us go. So we can save them…"

Based on how many of her ribs splintered in that moment, that'd definitely been the wrong thing to say.

"Don't you deign to lecture me, Avatar Korra," snapped the director. "After I've spent my entire life's work cleaning up your messes. You know…I almost thought it was the providence of the spirits, when I first found out. My own flesh and blood, the new Avatar. One who would lead us out of the darkness you left behind, and onto a new path full of light."

She looked down imperiously at the waterbender, cold contempt etched in every line of her prematurely aged face.

"That was before I realized what they were. A defect…an aberration. The first Avatar in all of history to lack the gifts Wan passed down," Gikuro continued to sneer. "We all suspected why, of course. And it wasn't Iraki's fault. But that didn't change the tiles we had to play. We needed a true Avatar, and all we had was a sniveling coward…unable to bend a single pebble."

"Quit talking about them like…!" Korra began, before being cut off by another violent, agonizing assault on her skeletal system.

"I heard them whisper, you know. None of them would've dared say it to my face, but I knew what all my colleagues were thinking," said Gikuro, talking over her. "That my lack of spirituality might've…tainted my child, somehow. I knew I had to prove them wrong. And soon enough, I figured out how."

With steady, purposeful steps, she walked over to a pad on the opposite wall, consisting of numerous buttons with numbers or symbols upon them. She pressed about a dozen of them in sequence, too quickly for Korra to follow.

With that, the wall revealed itself to be a door, sliding open to reveal the miniature lab's other room.

And what was hidden inside.

Nearly the entire chamber was taken up by a bulky machine, at least as advanced as the HOTU units. The various wires from throughout the valley were clearly all feeding into it, supplying it with so much power that Korra could feel the heat on her skin.

That wasn't what drew her attention, however. The machine resembled a sort of pod, with thick glass enclosing a murky green liquid. And floating inside that liquid, hooked up to a respirator and a network of tubes…

Was Iraki.

[-]

Gikuro could see that Korra had a million questions racing through her brain, and forestalled all of them.

"Do you know how identical twins occur in nature? The real science behind it, not the drivel they tell children about the Mother of Faces," she began, circling the still-bound Avatar. "After an egg is fertilized, there's a small chance it can split into two separate embryos. Indistinguishable, down to the very last genome…but separate nonetheless."

She stopped before the machine and gestured toward the unconscious figure, their eyes closed and their wispy brown hair fluttering within the bubbly liquid.

"This process I've developed, in essence, reproduces that phenomenon under laboratory conditions," said Gikuro, and for the first time since meeting her, Korra thought she could hear hints of genuine pride leaking into her voice. "You could think of it like taking a cutting from a plant, and using it to grow a new one. All of this sprung from a single hair left behind on Iraki's pillow. Can you believe it?"

"I can believe you're truly sick," Korra spat out, barely able to comprehend what she was hearing. "So what, you just…grew a new kid? Because you didn't like how the first one turned out?"

"But there's one thing we still don't fully understand about heritability. And that's the true nature of bending," Gikuro continued, ignoring her outburst completely. "You see, even in identical twins, it's possible for only one child to be a bender. Or even for each twin to be a different type of bender. If bending was fully genetic, that simply wouldn't be possible. There must be a spiritual component as well. Thankfully, Doctor Moon's research proved…especially illuminating in that regard."

Korra's stomach turned. She reminded herself that Gikuro couldn't know that she'd seen Naya's memories, by way of her connection to Iraki – and thus, believed her crime was still a secret.

As a faithful student of Zaheer, she silently filed that thought away for later.

Instead, what she asked out loud was, "So what're you getting at?"

"This specimen is, genetically speaking, an exact copy of Iraki. With one major difference," said Gikuro. "Our ability to detect the presence or absence of bending ability has advanced significantly since your era, and one thing is clear: this child is a natural-born earthbender."

As if to demonstrate, she pressed a long, crooked finger against a button on the device's surface. A small stream of sand was released into the green liquid, settling in a cloud around the occupant's head.

Slowly, the sand shifted into a swirling ring, pulled by their unconscious power.

"But what's the point?" Korra demanded. "Even if you went through all this trouble, that doesn't make this…copy the Avatar. I mean, everyone knows Avatar Jorob had a twin, but that didn't make his brother the Avatar too."

"Ah, and therein lies the rub," Gikuro lamented with a sigh. "The connection to Raava that, no matter how corrupted and tenuous, remains my child's birthright. But…that's where Phase Two comes in."

She returned to the device's console, pressing another rapid sequence of keys. With a hiss of steam, a compartment opened on the side of the machine – large enough for a person to fit in, and filled with just as many tubes and wires as the main capsule.

"This, perhaps, is an even greater leap forward than Doctor Moon's work in genetics," Gikuro continued on, gesturing to the hidden compartment. It clashed heavily with the rest of the immaculately designed machine, as if it'd been awkwardly fastened on after the fact. "It's based on technology we…liberated from the Equalist headquarters in Ba Sing Se. They certainly weren't going to be needing it any longer."

Images of the carnage Iraki and their friends had been forced to unleash swam through Korra's mind unbidden, carrying a severe wave of nausea with them.

"Now, my guess is their scientists were trying to reverse-engineer Noatak's abilities," said the director. "He taught no one else his techniques for removing bending, and his disciples have never been able to reproduce them. But in the course of their research, they stumbled upon something truly magnificent. You see, Avatar Korra, this module…"

Suddenly she was in Korra's face, glaring daggers with those unblinking brown eyes. How could eyes that were identical to Iraki's look so cold?

And so…predatory?

"Allows us to transfer one person's chi into another."

[-]

Instantly, it all made sense.

"You don't want to find Iraki because you're worried about them," whispered Korra, feeling sicker and sicker to her stomach with every word. "You wanna stick them in this machine, and yank out their Avatar Spirit!"

"How astute, Avatar. You deduced my wicked plan after I all but told it to you," Gikuro said dryly. "But yes, correct in essentials. Are you seriously trying to argue that Raava's essence isn't wasted on a child who can't even throw two rocks together? This is our chance to correct the cosmic imbalance. This…joke the universe decided to play on the human race."

"You…You can't be serious…" Korra breathed out. "How can you say that about your own…!"

But she was cut off by a sharp, piercing pain, as Gikuro twitched her thumb and effortlessly splintered another of her bones.

"Don't be naïve, little girl. It doesn't suit you," the director sneered. "What is the life of one person, even the Avatar…against the fate of the entire world? So what if that sniveling brat popped out of my body? It doesn't change anything."

"It…should…" Korra growled through gritted teeth. Did this witch not realize how many mountains she would move to see her own parents, just one more time? "And…besides…there's no way you can…"

"You doubt the mechanics of it? I suppose it must sound far-fetched, to someone of your…era," Gikuro interrupted her again. "You haven't seen Harmony. When we can share the Avatar's chi across four individuals, allowing non-benders to temporarily access the Avatar State itself, it really isn't that much of a stretch to do it permanently. And if not? Well…that's what the guinea pig-chicken is for."

"Guinea pig-chicken…?" repeated Korra, realizing the truth a moment too late.

Gikuro's fingers splayed out, like she was a puppeteer pulling on strings, and Korra felt the horrific sensation of her own skeleton following suit.

Everything about it was indescribably wrong, far worse than even bloodbending – because at least blood was supposed to flow, anchored by the push-and-pull of the heart. But bones were solid, unyielding things, and every second they spent moving under someone else's direction was pure, screeching agony.

Still, it seemed Gikuro was quite adept at this technique, as despite her struggles Korra couldn't stop her body from trudging forward, into the open compartment.

"If you still have a trace of Raava, my dear, then this could well be enough. Iraki would cease to matter," said the wicked woman, her expression displaying no emotion whatsoever at the idea. "Of course, the process could just as easily kill you. A necessary gamble, I'm afraid. Science, after all, must move forever onward."

Helpless to resist without her own bending, Korra recalled being in just this same predicament a mere day ago, at Saahasik's iron hand. Then, as now, she'd been unable to do anything but curse her own weakness, saved from a fate worse than death only by the dragon-phoenix's last-minute arrival.

She still wondered what would've happened to her if she'd been forced into that brainwashing chair, while her actual brain was still a world away. But the potential dangers here were even worse.

If this machine really could siphon away her Avatar Spirit…well, that's pretty much all she was at this point. Would she survive the experience?

Korra supposed she was about to find out. Because there wasn't any chance of a gallant rescue this time around. Gikuro had this entire research center under lock and key, so there was no way any of her "allies" could be in a position to help.

Not that they would, she noted ruefully. She'd pushed "Uncle" away. The alternate Amon was as useless as his counterpart was deadly. And…that Asami was…

"Get away from her!"

That guttural roar was the only warning Gikuro had to duck, as a mechanical arm sliced straight through the lab and came within a hair's breadth of decapitating her.

Korra saw her as if in slow motion. The alternate Asami, separated from her by a pane of thick glass, as she piloted a clearly stolen Mecha-Tank. The machine was far more advanced than those of her original era, somewhat resembling a miniature version of the HOTU, and as for its pilot…

At the speed she was traveling, the Avatar only glimpsed her for about half a second. But she had never seen any version of Asami look so furious.

The machine worked furiously, tearing the miniature lab to shreds. Gikuro acted almost as quickly, raising tented slabs of earth to protect both the copy-Iraki and herself.

But that left enough of an opening for Amon to stealthily slip into the room, pull out a pocket knife, and tear apart her restraints with a series of calculated slashes.

"The old man and his pet are holding off the rest of her army," he said in a low voice. "So I suggest we heed the legendary wisdom of the scholar Zhe-Xue: When the deepest ember of hope that burns within thy heart hath been extinguished, and it seems that all the tremendous tribulations of the world are set upon thee…hoist up thy underpants and get thy ass out of there."

Korra, however, remained transfixed at the sight unfolding before her. As the Equalist leader pulled her out of the wreckage, she watched in silent awe as the alternate Asami continued her rampage.

As the rest of the Great Divide came into view, she could see that the full strength of Gikuro's forces had been mobilized, with swarms of armed men and women shooting bolts and elemental blasts from every direction. And while Uncle and the dragon-phoenix were indeed engaging with a great number of them, far more were gunning for Asami, outnumbering her a hundred to one.

It was clear the odds were not in their favor.

Asami's stolen mech sailed through the skies like a dancer, deftly dodging every volley that came her way and counterattacking with targeted bursts of purplish energy. Their foes fell like spider-flies, unable to keep up with the sheer ferocity of her onslaught.

The Avatar was so hypnotized by the sight that she almost missed Gikuro emerging from her improvised barrier, surveilling the situation with a single glance and adopting a tight, thin frown. Then, she pulled back the sleeve of her lab coat, revealing a wrist-mounted machine with numerous buttons.

"Does she think I wouldn't have countermeasures against my own tech?" she murmured disdainfully, tapping several of the keys in sequence.

Instantly, the Mecha-Tank detonated above them in a fiery explosion.

"Asami!" Korra screamed, forgetting for a just a moment that it wasn't "her" Asami sitting in that machine. Her eyes were glued to the billowing clouds of smoke where the Mecha-Tank had just been, too horrified for words.

Only for those eyes to widen in even greater surprise, as the alternate Asami emerged from that smoke, a parachute attached to her ejector seat as she slowly descended through the sky.

Unfortunately, that moment of elated distraction was enough for the now all-too-familiar sensation of Gikuro's "bonebending" to return, the sociopathic director panting heavily as she froze Korra in place. Amon looked confused for a moment, before Gikuro twisted her other hand toward him, and he too was placed within her death-grip.

"You aren't going anywhere, Avatar Korra," she snapped, all traces of her usual stoicism leaking away and being replaced by pure zeal. "I've devoted my entire life toward this moment. I won't have it ruined by a few ghosts playing at being…!"

But she was cut off as a large piece of flaming shrapnel, left behind after the Mecha-Tank's explosion, suddenly flew toward her at alarming speed. Gikuro was forced to release her hold on their bones in order to raise an earth-shield.

Above them, Asami smirked triumphantly from her ejector seat. She had her half-mechanical arm splayed out, the machinery glowing with energy.

"Industrial-strength magnets!" she said. "Better than metalbending any day of the week."

Uncle seized that moment to take his mount back to the air, swooping underneath Asami to catch her on the dragon-phoenix's back and then zooming toward Korra and Amon.

"It won't take her long to recover!" he called out. "I think it's about time we left this place behind!"

"For once, I think you've found something all four of us agree on," responded Korra, eyeing the tented earth warily. It occurred to her that the only thing saving them right now was that Gikuro seemed to have the reaction time and stamina of a researcher, not a warrior.

Still, as the spirit climbed into the air at maximum speed and rocketed away from the canyon, Korra couldn't help but glance back and grimace.

There were so many questions they were leaving behind in this place. That seemed to be the case no matter where they went in this spiritforsaken future. But even more so…

Her thoughts were with the child they were leaving in that madwoman's clutches.

[-]

They were passing over the ruins of Omashu – another city that'd clearly not survived the ravages of ninety-plus years of Dark Spirit attacks – when Korra finished explaining what she'd seen and heard in Gikuro's secret lab.

"I've heard theories about how what you're describing might be possible…but they were always just that. Theories," said Asami breathlessly, her earlier iciness briefly forgotten in the face of all this new information. "The article I read called it 'cloning.' But to actually succeed, and with the Avatar as the specimen…"

She leaned back against the dragon-phoenix's feathery scales, dragging her fingers across her half-metal face.

"The technology in this future world is truly amazing," she added in a lower voice. "Shame about…well, literally everything else."

"Hey, you took to it well," Korra replied, elbowing the other girl in the ribs. "You can't have had more than a few minutes to practice with that Mecha-Tank, but you made it sing like a sparrow-canary."

She chose not to mention the extreme reaction that seeing her in danger had elicited out of the cyborg, but from the way each of their cheeks flushed a deep pink, it seemed both of them were certainly thinking about it.

"I…was motivated," was all Asami chose to say. "Besides, it wasn't that different from the models we used back home. Control-wise, at least."

"Well, umm…" mumbled Korra, now looking askance and fiddling with her fingers. The sight that greeted her view – the blackened remains of what'd once been the Earth Kingdom's second-largest city – didn't make saying this any easier. "Thank you, I guess. To all of you. You didn't have to save me back there. I don't think I've done much lately to earn it."

"In fairness, we're literally stuck in this place until you do some Avatar mumbo-jumbo," Amon pointed out. "Mind, when we stop being 'stuck' we're going to fade out of existence, so…lateral move at best?"

"I'm willing to face oblivion, if it means escaping this wretched future," said Asami sourly. "And on that note…you've been pretty silent over there, old man."

Uncle tilted his head toward them, still stroking his beard pensively.

"Apologies. The events in the Great Divide gave me…much to think about," he answered. "This Flow is unlike any I have ever witnessed before. And mostly not in good ways. That woman…she cannot be allowed to learn what her world really is. I fear for what she would do with that knowledge."

"Well, way you're telling it, this 'Flow' has its days numbered. All goes well, we'll end it all in a few hours," stated Korra, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "I don't think we need to worry too much about that witch."

"Hopefully, you are correct," whispered Uncle, though he didn't sound completely convinced.

The four of them fell into an uncomfortable silence for several moments, before Asami spoke up again.

"Anyway…switching gears," she began, clearing her throat. "At the rate we're flying, we'll reach Zaofu in less than two hours. We need to have a plan."

"Honestly, the only type of 'plan' I'm good at is the one where I go up to the Cataclysm and punch it," said Korra. "But somehow, I'm guessing that's not what you mean."

"It would be difficult, if not impossible, to properly prepare for this confrontation," Uncle told her with a small nod. "You must face the Cataclysm, one-on-one. All will become clear in that moment."

"Oh, and then I guess I'll finally find out why it looks like a giant, freaky spirit-me!" Korra suddenly exploded. "Yeah, between all the other crap it's been hard to keep track, but I'd still like an explanation for that one!"

She balled her hands into fists, advancing on the once-human spirit. "Gikuro kept talking about…about mistakes she thinks I made. Mistakes that her whole career was about undoing," she continued, her voice dropping low. "I know she's a venomous weasel-snake…but that part didn't sound like a lie. And Emperor Brain-Soak said something similar."

By the end, her tones were almost pleading.

"I always thought…that I'd grow up, and restore balance to the world. Balance that hasn't existed since before Wan was born," she said, hating how pathetic she sounded. She made a wide gesture to the ruined world around them – the charred forests and crumbling cities they were racing above. "But this? This…can't be the world I left behind. The world I caused. Just…tell me it isn't. Please."

Uncle simply folded his hands across his lap, and let out a deep sigh. "I know you want hard answers, Korra. And I understand why," he spoke softly. "But I simply can't give them to you. I am a Guide – nothing more or less. All I can do it light the way."

Korra let out a derisive, mirthless snort.

"You know who you White Lotus bastards are just like?" she hissed out, before jerking a thumb toward the masked man a few feet away. "This guy. Turns out Amons only come in two flavors. Completely ruin my life…or absolutely useless."

"I am sitting right here, you know," muttered Amon, sounding like he was pouting beneath his mask.

"There is…one thing I should tell you before we arrive," said Uncle, after another pregnant pause. Making contact with the Cataclysm will be the trigger point that returns you to your physical body. Or that starts the process, at least. It was the reason Avatar Iraki called you to this Flow in the first place – and so, it is also how you will get home."

"Yeah, you kinda explained that part already," Korra responded with a frown. "Could you get to the point?"

Uncle, as he always did, took her brusque tone in stride. It was almost – almost – enough to make her feel guilty about it.

In any event, it was with measured, grave tones that he explained, "It is imperative that when you do, you are in physical contact with both Amon and Miss Sato. Otherwise, the separation of the consciousnesses may not occur smoothly. As you entered this Flow in a circuit, so too must you exit."

Asami and Amon exchanged another one of those slightly-too-long looks, before nodding and declaring in unison, "Understood."

Korra didn't think it was her imagination that they'd said it a little too quickly.

[-]

They were passing over Foggy Swamp now. If Korra remembered her geography correctly – and Zaheer would've had her head if she didn't – then they were very near to Zaofu indeed.

Though the sight below was enough to drive any thoughts of their mission from her mind.

Even more so than the ruinous states of Ba Sing Se or Omashu, the devastated state of the Swamp was hard to witness. As a Spirit Wild, it had always served as a nexus for spirits wandering the material world…

Which in this disastrous future, meant it was teeming with Dark Spirits in the thousands.

There were so many of them that the Swamp's floor was little more than a teeming black mass, where it was difficult to tell where one spirit ended and another began. Foggy Swamp's natural vegetation was reduced to little more than tiny specks of green, amidst of sea of writhing darkness.

And just like Hei Bai, these Dark Spirits had been so thoroughly corrupted that they no longer carried any thought of harmonizing with the nature surrounding them. Instead they ripped and tore and pulled, the sacred trees and vines of the Swamp falling to shreds in the wake of their many rampages.

Even the banyan-grove tree at its center, which had withstood the eras of a hundred Avatars and whose roots spread across the entire world, was now little more than a hollowed-out shell. Dark Spirits covered its trunk and branches like parasites, taking great bites out of the ancient wood.

"I…I think I'm gonna hurl…" said Korra queasily. Even as a decidedly less-than-spiritual Avatar, this sight was painful on an almost visceral level.

"At least with so many of them, it'll be harder for any to notice us," Amon added. "If they all decided to swarm us at once, we'd be Kyoshi's wife on their wedding night…crushed."

There was a brief pause, then, "Okay that was a joke about how freakishly tall Avatar Kyoshi was, but seriously Rangi was absolutely the top."

Whether it was because of the terrible joke or simply his tempting of fate, however, one of the Dark Spirits chose that moment to peel away from the swarm below and shoot toward them. It was difficult to make out anything more than a silhouette, but it seemed almost serpentine, with numerous thin, spindly appendages.

Regardless, Uncle seemed to recognize it at once – and his reaction was one of intense, enflamed alarm.

"Amon, Miss Sato, put on your masks and don't take them off," he ordered immediately, forcing his voice to remain level. "And Korra, whatever you do, you must not show any emotion. Keep your face as featureless as possible."

As much as she hated the old man, this near-panic was such a departure from his normal demeanor that she hastened to obey, forcing away the deeply uncomfortable expression that would've normally accompanied the sight of Amon and Asami donning identical, sun-marked theatre masks.

Besides, his instructions sounded…almost familiar. Hadn't Zaheer warned her of something similar, once?

She only had just enough time for that thought to pass through her mind before the spirit was upon them, forcing the dragon-phoenix to freeze in mid-flight.

But it seemed to have eyes only for Korra. It stared at her, with the cold gray eyes of a Noh mask brought to life…and smirked.

At last…Avatar…

We meet…again…

[-]

Koh. The Face-Stealer.

Zaheer had indeed warned her, once. It seemed he'd had an encounter with the spirit himself, in his younger years – though he always refused to elaborate on the story. It was enough for her to know how dangerous it was, the non-bender had said.

But there were several differences between the spirit staring down at her, with unmistakable hunger in its eyes, and the one Zaheer had so vividly described.

In Zaheer's story, Koh had been a centipede-like spirit, bearing a single face at the tip of its head – one it could exchange at any time by "blinking." It relied on cold and cruel trickery to compel its victim to display emotion upon their face, at which point it was free to pilfer that face for its own.

Adding it to the spirit's ancient, ever-growing collection.

Except for the general wormlike shape, however, this thing didn't seem to look much like Koh at all. Its carapace was cracked and worn, and its numerous legs didn't line up in concert with one another, instead sticking out at odd angles. But most of all…

Instead of a single "eye" displaying one of its purloined faces, there were now dozens of them, running up and down its body like diseased pustules. A different face protruded from each.

And every single one of them was contorted in bitter, wretched agony.

Your face is…far more fetching…

In this life…than the last…

Not…that Avatar Aang…

Lacked…his own charms…

Gone, too, were the velvety smooth, sinister tones that Zaheer had described, with barely suppressed shudders. But this was almost worse.

Now, Koh spoke through every one of his stolen mouths at once, the voices a blistering cacophony that almost but never quite synched up. The voices were also uniformly halting, breathless – as if the very act of speaking carried with it a physical toll.

"What…has happened to you, ancient spirit?" asked Uncle, the effort to keep dismay and sadness out of his voice truly palpable.

Ah…General Iroh…

Lu Ten…spoke of you…so fondly…

There was a story there, in the way that Uncle's eyes lit up for the briefest of moments – though he tamped down on the surge of emotion before Koh could notice.

Either way, Korra recognized the cryptic words for what they were: bait. When Koh saw that Uncle wasn't biting, he seemed to have little choice but to answer the question directly.

The same corruption…that afflicts…

All of my kind…who overstay…their welcome…

In this…blighted world…

But…it cannot…claim me fully…

For I…am far more…

Than a common…spirit…

True to its word, Koh had not yet been transformed into the featureless mass of darkness to which most of its fellows had succumbed. As visibly twisted as it was, it still retained the marks of its individuality as a spirit – and then some.

And yet…

On closer inspection, the very tip of its "tail" resembled the other Dark Spirits far more heavily. It seemed the transformation had been halted partway through, perhaps out of sheer willpower.

But the border between Koh's arthropod-like shell and the formless darkness was…hazy. Indistinct.

As if it was a growth that threatened to overtake the spirit at any moment.

"Let us pass, Koh," said Uncle. "You see what is happening to this Flow."

Yes…

The White Spirit…approaches…

This is far…from the first world…

I have watched…die…

The spirit undulated and twisted, using its dozens of eyes to take in the rifts in reality opening up all around them. The closer they drew to Zaofu, the more frequently they seemed to appear.

"You almost seem happy about it," spoke Asami from behind her mask. Though she kept her voice deliberately level, following Uncle's lead, Korra could almost feel the other girl's rage, radiating off her like heat.

Her words were met by another smirk – this one mirrored by numerous other mouths.

Let us…just say…

That I…am quite ready…

For this world…to end…

"Guess I can't really disagree with you there," remarked Korra, crossing her arms in frustration; no one had said anything about emoting with the rest of her body. "But why are you stopping us, then?"

Because…dear Avatar…

This…is a rare chance…

To pass along…

A message…

"What kind of message?" muttered Korra. "And to who?"

Koh seemed to consider this question for a while, twisting and swaying about in the air as its legs moved rhythmically, as if scaling some invisible wall.

Finally, it drew closer to her, and "blinked."

And it took every last ounce of Korra's self-control not to let her reaction show on her face.

Because while the next face the spirit revealed was far younger than Korra had ever seen him, even in photographs, lacking most of the trademark scars he'd pick up later in life, it was still without question…

"Zaheer…" she said in a very small voice. "How can you possibly have Zaheer's face?"

The face of teenaged Zaheer, and a dozen others besides, all twisted into an expression of bemusement.

Is that…what he calls…himself now…?

Well…no matter…

Tell him this…sweet Avatar…

Tell him…his meddling…

Has been…

Noticed.

That last word was the first one Koh had spoken without trailing off – giving it an air of finality that chilled Korra to the bone.

Somehow, she knew that if she asked for clarification, she would receive none. Her mission was to carry the spirit's message back to her mentor, and allow him to parse out the meaning.

"I…I'll do that," she responded to the Face-Stealer. "I'll tell him."

Excellent…

Then…Scion of Raava…

Guide of Spirits…

Refugees…from Times Now Lost…

You may…scurry along…

Best fortune…to all of you…

At the End…

Of…

The World…

[-]

The Min Nan Mountains loomed in the distance. Once they crossed them, they'd be right on top of Zaofu.

It was better to concentrate on the passing geography, decimated as it was, than to discuss their encounter over the Swamp.

Of course, it didn't help that said geography was more than halfway gone at this point. Plants and rocks and villages alike were disappearing by the moment, leaving nothing in their wake. That was the strangest thing – one would've expected to see a hole left behind, at the very least. If a tree suddenly vanished, then logically, the dirt it was rooted to should still be there. And if that dirt was also gouged away, then she should've been able to see earth deeper still.

But a hole would've been something. No, there was simply no other word for what became of the landscape the White Spirit ravaged…

Nothing.

"You're about to face it," Asami said suddenly, shocking Korra out of her reverie. "Do you think you're ready?"

"No," Korra didn't even think to lie. "But I have to be."

She glanced over toward the cyborg, whose mechanical eye was whizzing about erratically, while the rest of her features tightened and tensed. Korra had come to recognize that meant she was deep in thought – in part, perhaps, because she was so used to reading those same features on another.

"Can I…ask you one thing?" she whispered, after a little while. At the same time she shot a glance toward Amon, who seemed to take the hint and moved closer to Uncle, leaving the two of them alone.

Korra wasn't sure what to make of the other girl's tone, but answered, "Sure, go ahead."

"In times like this…she's the one you're used to reaching for, isn't she?" the alternate Asami went on. Neither of them needed to ask who "she" was. "I must be a piss-poor substitute."

The Avatar's first instinct was to protest, but she immediately thought better of it. Telling her, "No, you're totally great!" would've rung hollow, and they both knew it.

Instead, after taking a deep breath, she said, "I'm sure you're what…your Korra needed. Or at least that's what I'm choosing to think."

"My Korra…" Asami repeated softly, testing the words on her tongue like a small sip of wine. Eventually, she let out a snort. "Yeah, I'm definitely what she needed. The foe who opposed her at every turn. The bitch who lured her down the wrong path, every chance she got. The monster who took a dagger in her hands and…and…"

She couldn't finish the sentence, but she didn't have to. Whatever had led their counterparts to fight to the death had clearly destroyed the alternate Asami inside.

Which…shouldn't have been much comfort, honestly. Regardless of the circumstances, she'd still done it.

And yet…

"If you're willing…then there is one thing you can do for me. One thing I know will help," Korra told her. "If I close my eyes, then you sound just like her. Talk to me, and I can pretend. Just for a few minutes."

Asami's mouth opened and closed several times. "What…What do you want me to say?" she asked.

"Anything. The simpler, the better," said Korra. "Maybe explain something science-y. Something totally dull and pointless."

It was a strange request, and not one she really felt like she had much right to ask of the other girl. But she chose to close her eyes and wait, anyway.

For over a minute, she waited in vain. She sat there on the back of the dragon-phoenix, breathing in and out, and steadfastly trying not to think of the trials that lay ahead. This was the reason she was no good at meditation.

But then, just before she was about to give it all up as a bad job…

"A cog, or gear, is a rotating circular machine part having cut teeth which mesh with another toothed part to transmit torque – that is, the rotational equivalent of linear force," the alternate Asami began to recite. "Cogs of different sizes produce a change in torque, creating a mechanical advantage. The rotational speeds, and the torques, of two meshing cogs differ in proportion to their diameters."

Korra leaned back against the dragon-phoenix, letting the dry techno-babble wash over her like a blanket.

"The earliest known cogs predate recorded civilization. They were made of stone, and both fashioned and propelled by earthbenders. Centuries would pass before metalworks would advance to the point where cogs could be produced by machine that matched or outpaced those of bender artisans," she continued, and while Korra could tell the Equalist was tempted to editorialize further on the point, she mercifully held her tongue. "The cog, as a simple machine, is one of the core pillars of the modern mechanical age. Without it, devices as diverse as the clock, automatic mill, and Satomobile would not be possible."

True, all of this was about as exciting to Korra as watching grass grow. And yet, for the first time since coming to this horrible future…

The Avatar found herself smiling, just a bit.

The alternate Asami continued on for several more minutes, covering all the myriad minutiae of the cog's role in the Fire Nation's industrial revolution, and the refinements made in the post-war period. Plus an absurdly overdetailed explanation of how the gear system within a Satomobile was actually constructed.

Still, it seemed there were limits to how much even a genius like her could drive this subject into the ground, and with an audible shrug in her voice she finished with, "I…don't know why I picked that subject, honestly. Just went with the first thing that popped in my head. Hope it did the trick."

Korra let out a deep breath she didn't know she'd been keeping in, centering herself as she slowly opened her eyes.

"It was perfect," she said, meaning every word.

She let things hang there, without elaborating further. She wouldn't have been able to express what she felt in words, anyway – the effect on her body that came from pretending, just for a moment, that she was with her Asami again, half-listening to a lecture on the finer points of a Future Industries forklift.

All that mattered was that, to the degree she even could be…

She at last felt ready.

[-]

They all felt it, the moment they crossed into the valley surrounding Zaofu.

The best way Korra could think to describe the sensation was a giant, invisible person picking her up with both hands and shaking her as hard as possible. All of her senses were disoriented at once, and she had to fight simply to take in air.

"We've passed the temporal distortion," groaned Uncle, who sounded just as out of sorts as she did. "Within a few moments we should be able to see…"

But his voice fell away. Because now they all could, indeed, see the situation in Zaofu – and it was enough to make anyone fall silent.

There was no hope, to start with, for the metal-plated city. That much was obvious from a glance. Anything that hadn't already been crushed into rubble was burning or blackened, and the smoldering rubble bore no signs whatsoever of life.

The only thing left in this valley were the two titans battling for control of it.

One, unmistakably, was Iraki. Their Avatar State fueled by the despair of losing the one they loved, they flew across the skies at blinding speeds, all four elements surrounding them in a continuously swirling dance.

But the elemental sphere that'd been so many Avatars' trademark – most famously, used by Aang when he vanquished Fire Lord Ozai – had morphed in shape and form. The elements had been remolded in the broad outline of Unit-E; Iraki, it seemed, had instinctively reached for their most familiar weapon, despite the bad memories it represented.

The only difference was that the mech-like elemental was about ten times larger than its original, allowing it to fight the Cataclysm on even terms.

Which was good…because it wouldn't have had even the slimmest chance otherwise.

Viewing the Cataclysm in-person was an experience like no other Korra could name. Its body did, indeed, resemble her own – but completely naked, and magnified to a size that towered over the greatest mountain. Where her hair should've been, its head was instead tipped with long, flailing tendrils.

Its skin somewhat resembled that of the Dark Spirits, so deep and so dark that there seemed to be no end to its fathoms. Runic patterns ran up and down nearly every inch, symbols Korra couldn't even begin to parse or translate, and all of it glowing a deep, ethereal purple.

The purple, honestly, was the strangest part. Given what they planned for Harmonic Convergence, she would've expected to see the red-orange of Vaatu, the blue-white of Raava, or some combination of the two.

Then again, if they were going by the Red Lotus' plans…that there was still any trace of Avatar Korra on the planet meant they'd failed utterly.

None of this made sense. None of it.

"I am not looking forward to getting up close and personal with that thing," said Amon, becoming the first to break the air of awed silence. "I don't have a joke for that, I just…really don't want to."

"No argument," Asami breathed out, her mechanical eye narrowing to a fine point as she stared at the brawling colossi. "But I don't think we have a choice."

Of course, that was easier said than done. The clash of the two Avatars – or something that at least very much resembled an Avatar – was ferocious beyond description, rapidly threatening to reduce what remained of the valley to ash.

No longer constrained by the limits of the HOTU, Iraki was bringing the full force of all four elements against their foe, assailing the Cataclysm with an unceasing barrage of earthquakes, firestorms, tornadoes, and torrents.

But the enormous spirit-being was fighting back just as hard, sending forth numerous blasts of spirit energy – from its mouth, its hands, its tendrils. The firepower it could wield in a single strike could put entire armies to shame.

It didn't seem to have any other attacks, but it didn't really need to. What the Cataclysm lacked in versatility, it more than made up for in sheer offensive might.

And it didn't help that while every blast it landed on the pseudo-mech disrupted its form a little more, the reverse didn't seem to be true at all. No matter how much elemental force Iraki brought to bear, all they succeeded in doing was slowing their foe down for another few seconds.

If this turned into a war of attrition, the Avatar wasn't likely to emerge victorious.

Meanwhile, the Everstorm – the whirling blizzard of rampaging spirits that'd once dwelt over the South Pole – continued to follow in the Cataclysm's wake, blanketing a patch of land roughly the size of a small city in an impenetrable cyclone of chaos. Whatever the Cataclysm's own footsteps failed to crush, the Everstorm was sure to finish the job.

And on top of all this, the battlefield itself continued to shrink further and further with every passing moment. This close to the center of it all, the White Spirit's influence was at its strongest, and large chunks of the landscape were vanishing into the void at an alarming rate.

All these factors meant that the prospect of approaching the melee, even on the supernaturally agile dragon-phoenix, was tantamount to suicide.

Fortunately…Korra had a fair bit of experience with suicide missions.

"If only that damn storm wasn't there. Then we could try sneaking up from behind," said Asami quietly. Regardless of timeline, the non-bender was a universally brilliant tactician. "Still, we have one advantage: so much is going on that the Cataclysm might not notice us until we're right on top of it."

Uncle patted their mount across the beak. "I know we've been pushing you so hard, girl. But I need you to put in just a little more. As fast as you possibly can."

The dragon-phoenix gave a trilling screech of acknowledgment, curling herself up in preparation for the final spurt.

"Prepare yourself, Avatar Korra," Uncle told her, bracing himself against the spirit's feathery scales and motioning for the others to do the same. "As soon as we draw near the Cataclysm, you must speak to her. You are the only one she may listen to."

Her…She…the pronouns made it realer for her, somehow. Made it impossible to ignore what she was about to face.

"This is it, Korra," she said to herself, trying to summon up a well of confidence she didn't entirely feel. The sight of the Cataclysm, in all its horrific glory, had drained her of anything else. "You're the Avatar, and this is your job. You just gotta deal with it."

For the briefest moment, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. When she turned her head, it'd already been removed – but the fact that several of the fingers felt like metal left little doubt as to their owner.

"Okay," she added, turning to Uncle and nodding once. "Let's go."

[-]

They shot toward the titanic combatants like a rocket, the wind roaring in their ears and biting at their faces all the while.

Iraki's elemental was grappling with the Cataclysm now, using "hands" of roughly shaped earth to physically restrain the Cataclysm. Though Korra could see no trace of her timid, hesitant successor in the whirling colossus, she wandered if some small part of them had noticed her approach and was trying to help.

If so, she sent them her silent thanks.

Of course, the Cataclysm wasn't going to simply stand by and allow itself – herself – to be held for long. It fought off Iraki's grip with the ferocity of a shark-squid trapped in a fisherman's net, its tendrils flailing wildly.

Unfortunately, this struggling served to agitate the Everstorm even further, and a number of the crazed spirits within it began to break away, scattering to the four winds. This made flying through the chaotic skies even more difficult, but somehow Uncle managed to keep them steady.

This was it: the final, mad dash at the end of the world. The very air around them was disappearing now, piece by piece, but still the dragon-phoenix pushed forward. Until at last…

They arrived before the Cataclysm, hovering about level with the giant's "chest."

An odd expression came over the Cataclysm's brightly burning, pupil-less eyes as they first widened in surprise, and then narrowed in apparent recognition. While the behemoth's thoughts – if it was even still lucid enough to have them – were utterly inscrutable, it seemed at least to be able to identify the figure who'd presented herself before it.

With a monumental effort, the Cataclysm chose that moment to break Iraki's hold and toss their pseudo-mech away from itself, sending the younger Avatar flying into the distance. Thankfully, most of their elemental construct was composed of whirling air, which cushioned the fall. Korra watched on just long enough to make sure they landed safely, before turning back to the Cataclysm.

"I am Avatar Korra!" she shouted, fighting to be heard over the rushing winds of the Everstorm. "Who are you?"

There was a lengthy pause, as the Cataclysm simply stared back in utter silence. Then…

WE.

ARE.

THE.

AVATAR.

The Cataclysm did not have to move its mouth to speak, the words simply seeming to materialize in the air surrounding them. And the voice it used was the strangest one Korra had ever heard in her life – far more terrifying than even Koh's corrupted cacophony.

In that case, she'd been able to hear the voices of all of Koh's stolen faces at once, rolling and clashing around one another. Here, there were clearly hundreds of other voices undergirding the one she heard audibly, but they provided nothing but dim echoes and reverberation, strengthening the impact of the "prime" voice.

And that voice, magnified a thousand times over, was unmistakably her own.

It was somewhat akin to what Iraki had sounded like when they finally reached the Avatar State…and yet at the same time, so much more.

There was age, history, in the Cataclysm's voice, that was utterly lacking in Iraki's, even at their peak. As if all those echoes had been stolen from their rightful owner, and instead manifested in another.

"I don't understand any of this!" said Korra, as loud as she possibly could. "How can you be…be me?"

She screwed her eyes shut, fighting to get out the words she'd been bottling up since she first laid eyes on the Cataclysm in Iraki's visions.

"The plan can't have gone like this!" she continued on, cupping her hands around her mouth to further carry her words. "I was supposed to join with Vaatu at Harmonic Convergence! To merge him and Raava together, using my body as the vessel! My own soul would be destroyed…but it'd be worth it, to restore the world to the way it used to be!"

She glanced briefly to either side, and saw the rest of her party looking astonished at this revelation – apart from Uncle, who simply frowned pensively.

But before she could consider the subject any further, she found that the Cataclysm was speaking again.

And what it said rocked her to her core.

THAT.

WAS.

ONLY.

THE.

FIRST.

STEP.

Korra's blood ran cold as ice. The barest whisper escaped her lips, "…What?"

The Cataclysm wasn't going to give her a chance to process these words, however. Its speech continued unabated, her own voice booming out for hundreds of miles.

BUT.

YOU.

SHOULD.

NOT.

BE.

HERE.

Its eyes, and every rune and symbol layered across its body, were burning a brighter and deeper purple with every word.

YOU.

WILL.

BE.

RETURNED.

This was it, Korra knew instinctively. As much as she wanted, needed to learn the answers to the dozens upon dozens of further questions blazing through her mind, it seemed her time in this Flow had reached its end.

She still didn't understand the mechanics of it all. But on a deeper level, Korra knew that once that glow escaped from the Cataclysm's eyes, and overtook her…she would be home.

That, at least, was something to look forward to.

Remembering Uncle's earlier guidance, she hastily grasped for Amon and Asami with either hand. Part of her was tempted to leave Amon in this hellish nightmare, but she couldn't risk doing the same to Asami. If they all needed to return together, then so be it.

Taking both of their hands into her sweaty palms, Korra screwed her eyes shut once more, awaiting the moment when she'd wake up back in her own body.

That was when she heard it.

"Amon, now!"

The voice Korra cherished most in the world took her by surprise – but not nearly as much as the surge of electricity that ran through her entire body.

The world around her went black.