The old woman stepped down into the street, carrying a garbage bag fit to burst.
Tyres screeched in the distance. She paused, shaking her head with a curled lip.
"Youngsters," the old woman muttered.
Couldn't have a moment's peace with them racing up and down the Dragon Flats through the night.
"Paying taxes...Police are useless..."
Tyres screeched again. Louder.
The old woman tossed away the garbage, laying her hand to a bent back. She aimed her eyes at her front door, behind which a boiling kettle promised herbal tea. Sweetened with a teaspoon of honey, of course. Her favourite armchair awaited.
A truck sliced around the corner. The old woman froze as it raced towards her.
"W-Wait!"
The old woman threw up trembling hands, tripped and fell to the curb. Tyres squealed as the truck lunged to the right. She grabbed her head with a bleeding arm.
"Help!"
The truck roared passed, swerving back to the left. As did a second. And then another, three trucks blasting right towards the end of the street.
The old woman lifted her head as they each swung backwards around the corner.
Beaming headlights were the last thing she saw.
"Korra!"
She lifts her eyes, disembarking from the steamship. A woman wrapped in furs waves at her. Korra grins, taking the steps down to the port two at a time. She runs into a sorely missed embrace.
"Asami."
Korra holds her tight. Asami squeezes back, cradling her head.
"Shall I take your bags, ma'am?"
Korra blinks, lifting her face from the crook of a fur-lined shoulder.
"Uh, no," she tells the chauffeur. "I can -"
"Please," Asami interjects with a flourish of the wrist.
The uniformed man bends to pick up Korra's luggage, depositing them in the black saloon parked at Asami's back. The body of the automobile is long and sleek, sitting comfortably on large wheels.
"Is that a new model?"
Asami smiles proudly. "Indeed it is. Built exclusively for Republic City's finest."
"I'll get a cab then, shall I?"
"Stop it," Asami chides her. "Come on. We need to get going."
"Get going?"
The chauffeur opens the saloon's rear door for them, stepping aside as it swings backwards.
"Yes," Asami says simply, with a hand on her arm guiding Korra into the Satomobile.
"I literally just set foot on solid ground after a week at sea."
"No time like the present, Korra."
"Where are we going that's so urgent?"
Asami smiles, rolling back a cuff to glance at her wrist. "You'll see."
Korra arches her eyebrow. "Are we late?"
"Fashionably."
The port melts away as the Satomobile quietly rolls into motion. After the pitch and roll of the steamship, the ride feels like silk. Korra tips her head against the seat's headrest and closes her eyes.
"Ow!"
"None of that," Asami says, pinching the back of Korra's hand.
She snatches it away, pouting. "When are you telling me where we're headed?"
Asami strokes her chin. "What I will say is the city has been busy rebuilding over the past eight months, and we're going somewhere to celebrate."
Republic City rises to greet them as the chauffeur steers onto a suspension bridge. The horizon is illuminated under the evening skyline, industrial smog coiling into the darkness further in the distance.
Korra peers out of her window, watching light shimmer along the surface of the water below. She feels a hand settle on her thigh.
"What are you thinking about?"
Korra gazes out across the bay. Then she turns to Asami, smiling.
Her stomach grumbles.
Asami holds her own, laughing.
"Stop," Korra chides her. "There'd better be food wherever we're going."
Asami chuckles, dabbing an eye. "Whatever you fancy."
Bottles wrapped in brown paper bags clinked together, the man's wayward hands scrabbling between them. He grasped, missed, mumbled obscenities and then grabbed again. His effort went unrewarded; the bottle was empty.
A cheer rose from the Arena, a thousand voices and more lifting the domed glass roof.
Lifting him out of the blissful oblivion of sleep.
"Quiet," the man slurred, squeezing his eyes shut.
The Arena glowed in the night, as if each brick were solid gold. He cursed it, reaching blindly for another bottle.
"Spirits take you all."
Not a single soul had bothered to spare him some change. A crowd thicker than blood pressed into the Arena and not one could afford to press a few yuans into his waiting palm.
Apparently.
The man looked up at the radiant building, and spat. Then, he blinked.
Security guards had been posted at and patrolling the entrance. They shoved him away into a corner of the plaza when he started begging a little too close. He swore when they cast dirty looks his way, condescending.
Better than.
And yet they were laid out across the ground, just like he was.
The man sat up a little straighter, head swimming and eyes narrowed.
Tyres squealed.
The trucks drove three abreast up the causeway joining the Pro-bending Arena to the city proper.
Backwards.
They screeched to a halt in front of Republic City's shining monument. Equalists spilled out into the plaza, sprinting towards the entrance of the Arena. Towards the security personnel laid out cold in front of it.
And they rose, like a rotten corpse from haunted graves.
Arcs of blue jumped from shuddering limbs to the gloves wrapped around Equalist fists.
Knees unsnapped, springing away the heel of Equalist boots.
Arms wrapped around throats and hauled the men to their feet.
And when they all stood, Equalists melting like smoke into the shadows of the Arena behind them, the security personnel folded their arms and glared daggers across the plaza at the drunkard.
He stared back. "I'm never drinking again."
Korra throws her hands up. "I should have known!"
Asami grins. "Don't be so dramatic."
The saloon eases down the curved causeway, joining a procession of other vehicles pointed towards a golden aura.
Against the dark backdrop of Yue Bay, the Pro-bending Arena shines prominent. Signal lights project into the night sky, weaving between the airships droning overhead. Korra cranes her head to catch a glimpse of the promotional material plastered on their hulls.
"Bolin is playing?!"
"An explosive return to the pro-bending field, for one night only."
"I thought he hung up that hat, went all in on movers."
"Varrick is persuasive."
"So how did you...?"
Asami turns, batting her lashes. "I am simply...more persuasive."
Korra rolls her eyes, punching Asami's leg.
"Here we are," the chauffeur announces.
They roll onto the plaza in front of the Arena, which is congregated with food vans, media outlets, last minute ticket vendors and several trucks. An attendant waves them through between red and gold rope barriers, a curving path taking the Satomobile directly to the Arena's entrance. A cadre of photographers are encamped there, eyes darting between the arriving automoblies.
"I feel like a mover star," Korra laughs.
"Am I your trophy for the evening?" Asami says.
Her coat seems to have slipped, exposing bare skin and the shoulder of a deep red evening dress.
Korra blinks. "I...uh..."
Asami chuckles as the chauffeur pulls open the rear door. "After you."
She steps out into a blaze of flashing lights.
"Avatar Korra!"
"When did you return from Shuhon Island?"
"Is it true that you and Asami Sato are an item?"
"Will you be reprising your role on the Fire Ferrets tonight?"
Korra mouths a silent response, like she is trapped in a bowl. Then she feels a hand against the small of her back.
"Miss Sato!"
Asami holds up a hand and lightly pushes Korra forward. "Tonight, we're here to celebrate the collective effort to rebuild Republic City. Let's all have a good time, in good company!"
The microphones and ink-blotted notepads eventually part as the young women stubbornly press through. Korra releases the breath she's been holding.
"Spirits, Asami. Warn me, maybe?"
"You handled yourself."
"Like a fish out of water!"
Asami grins. "Forget about it. The game is waiting for us."
Korra does as she's told when she sees the VIP box.
The lounge, lined with plush chairs and a table set for two, opens up onto a wide balcony overlooking the arena proper. They are perpendicular to the playing field itself, the balcony raised slightly above it. The structure juts out directly over the floating walkway which leads to the referees' platform. Korra stands against the balcony railing, wide-eyed and giddy.
"May I take your coat, Avatar Korra?"
She turns, finding an attendant, well, attending to her.
"Uh, no," she tells the man. "I can -"
"Please," Asami interjects. "Korra, you don't have to do everything yourself."
She starts shrugging out of her coat, handing it to the smiling attendant. "I stepped off a cranky old ship half an hour ago."
"And now you're sitting in the lap of luxury," Asami tells her. "Get comfortable."
Korra's grumbling stomach agrees. Loudly.
Asami gestures to the table inside their booth. "Shall we?"
The Captain felt the metallic clunk in his bones. He performed a quick headcount of the Equalists in front of him.
"That's everyone?"
"Yes, sir," one answered.
The masked man nodded. "Up, into the gym."
"That's unnerving," an Equalist muttered, looking over their shoulder.
The basement was cold and damp, exposed piping jutting out of the walls. Fencing stretching from floor to ceiling split the room down the middle. On the other side of it Equalists arranged in single file took measured steps backwards, each one preceded by the distinct whirring of cogs in the machine.
"Agreed," the Captain said. "Let's get out of here."
The roar of the arena was muffled by the floors between it and the frankly battered looking, disused gym. Equalists double checked their gear as the Captain climbed out of the basement, unclipping thick batons from his belt.
"Eyes front," he called. "We're heading out. Clear all security personnel. Stay low, stick to the plan and keep your masks on. The trucks are in place."
They filtered out at intervals. The final group of Equalists were leaving, shock gloves pulled tightly over their hands, when one paused at the steps leading up out of the gym.
They stopped and looked down at the ground, just shy of their left boot. Then they looked up, over their shoulder.
Voices. Coming from the basement.
Which didn't make sense; there was no one left down there. He was the last man.
The Equalist turned on his heel after a long moment, creeping low. He peered down into the darkness.
"Who's there?"
An exhibition game plays out while Korra wolfs down everything placed in front of her. Across the table, Asami simply watches.
"What?" Korra says through a mouthful.
"You've forgotten everything I taught you about proper etiquette."
Korra gestures with a knife. "No. I choose to ignore it."
"You would get us kicked out of Kwang's," Asami says, her smile crooked.
"Their loss. I've got a big appetite and the money to feed it."
Asami rests her chin on her hands. "Oh? Whose money, Korra?"
She looks up and winks.
"Give a cheer to your winners, the Capital City Catgators!"
Asami looks out towards the balcony. "It's about to start. Finish up!"
Korra stuffs what remains on the plate into her mouth, throwing her chair back and almost tipping herself onto the floor in the process.
The arena begins to ring with a raucous chorus of cheering as the main lights dim. Korra joins Asami as from centre stage the ring announcer ascends into view, haloed in white spotlight.
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
The whole arena shouts in response. Korra can't help herself; she starts bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Woo!"
The ring announcer turns a full circle, microphone lead trailing in his wake as his hands reach out to gather the crowd's energy.
"Welcome, to the main event!"
Ever prim and poised, even Asami's fist shoots up into the air.
"Let's meet our contenders for the evening, shall we?"
The ring announcer gestures to the baying crowd, waving them down with a sparkling grin on his face.
"Returning to the field tonight, captained by none other than the man who moves your heart and soul with every silver screen he dominates..."
"It's him!" Korra screams.
"...pride of Future Industries and a team once host to the Avatar herself, I give to you, the Fire Ferrets!"
They rise, three silhouettes bathed in golden light. The central figure, flanked by his teammates, raises a battle-worn helmet into the air. The crowd embrace their gladiator with a roar that lifts the hair on Korra's arms.
"Bo-lin! Bo-lin! Bo-lin!"
He walks a circuit of the playing field, cupping a hand to one ear, raising both arms to the audience. It lifts its voice, higher and higher.
"Bolin!" Korra yells, waving back at the man calling for their utter and complete attention. "Bolin!"
Asami leans over into her ear. "How many girls do you think are yelling his name?"
Korra shrugs her off, caught in the furore. As it reaches its crescendo, the ring announcer cedes his microphone to the crowd's champion.
Bolin carefully brings it to his lips, a hand raised for silence.
"Republic City! Would you rather be anywhere else in the world right now?"
The response is resounding, ringing in Korra's ears.
"NO!"
And the glass dome high above them all shatters.
Stones hurtle in from the night sky, raining down on the Arena's packed crowd.
The screaming begins when they explode into clouds of thick smoke.
Asami watches a burst of air clear the smog. Pockets of airbenders are among the crowd.
Upon them descend the Equalists.
Rappel lines unfurl from the ceiling, and from an airship high above the Arena descend dozens of masked extremists. Arcs of lightning jump from outstretched hands into the throng below and airbenders fall.
She hears a woman scream.
"Korra!"
The world vanishes as an acrid haze rolls over her. Asami drops to the ground,coughing. She flips over onto her stomach, pressing her face down where the air is clear. Barely. Boots drum the floor around her. One swings straight into her ribs.
Asami scrabbles for purchase as a pair of strong hands hook under her armpit. She lashes out with her heel and hits nothing but air. Again, and this time finds an ankle. The full weight of a body collapses on top of her. Asami chokes as smoke fills her lungs. The hands are all over her, dragging Asami onto her back.
An Equalist mask looms over her. Opaque eyes glow green.
"Sato. Traitorous bitch."
Asami's eyes bulge when a shock glove clamps around her throat and begins to crackle.
A boot slams right into its jaw. The boot is followed by the Avatar, bursting through the smoke.
"Go!"
She scrambles to find her feet. She claims a fallen shock glove in the process. Hand pressed over her mouth and nose, Asami gropes for a solid surface and stumbles inside the VIP booth. Her lungs burn. She doubles over and coughs like they're stuck in her throat.
"Asami!"
She looks up immediately, smoke swirling in the doorway leading out to the balcony.
"Korra?!"
She jumps when two bodies suddenly tumble into the lounge. Feet flail as they are kicked out from under Korra. She lands hard on her back, an Equalist scrambling to stay on top of her.
"No!" Asami yells.
Baring her teeth, she launches herself at the Equalist and rips them off of Korra. Sent to ground, the Equalist kicks up at her, catching Asami in the chest with the flat of both feet.
She swipes them out of the way, punching at the Equalist's head. They pull it to the right, bringing up an arm to block Asami's strike. She snarls and vaults over the Equalist's legs, landing squarely on their hips.
Her right hand sparks with wrath, coming down like a hammer.
The Equalist crosses both arms to block – too late. Asami feels a nose crunch under her fist. The Equalist shudders as paralysing volts flay their whole body. Smoke rises from their uniform as Asami pushes herself back onto her feet, rushing to Korra's side.
"I'm okay," she says, grimacing.
"You don't sound or look it."
Korra winces when she is helped to stand. "Chi-blocker. Bastard got me good."
"We've got to move," Asami tells her, glancing back at the doorway filled with smoke.
"I'm not running away," she says fiercely.
"Korra, we have to -"
Something clatters across the floor, bouncing through the smoke into the lounge. Asami stares at it, then her eyes widen.
"Move!"
The smoke grenade explodes.
Asami drags Korra blindly to the door of their VIP booth and pushes her into the corridor beyond. She trips over her own feet, catching herself against the wall. An arm shoots out from the black smog, wrapping around Asami's neck. Her heels scrape along the floor as she is dragged backwards.
Korra pushes off the wall. "Asami!"
Smoke billows out of the VIP lounge – followed by a body, flipped over a shoulder through the air.
The Equalist slams to the ground, landing on their ribs.
Korra stamps her boot heel into an upturned knee.
A pained yell is cut short by an electrified fist. Asami flips her hair out of her face afterwards.
"Can we go?"
They start to run.
They start to run when Equalists burst out from the lounge and spot them. Asami rounds a corner – and her heels bends the wrong way.
"Shit!"
The Equalists are on top of them in an instant.
The Captain's gaze narrowed as the truck swung around the corner, leading the procession tearing through the Dragon Flats. An old woman lay hunched on the ground against the roadside curb, eyes lit up by the truck's headlights.
Then, she suddenly stood up and stepped backwards – directly into the road.
"Watch it!"
The Captain lunged across the cabin. He grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it to the right. Equalists cursed from the back as the body of the truck rolled severely.
"Steady!" the man called over his shoulder. He looked to the driver after he corrected the swerve. "Careful. We haven't killed anyone yet."
The trucks proceeded through the Dragon Flats, right up until they reached the very edge of the borough. Here, the Dragon Flats opened up into a large body of water. To the North West, the statue of Avatar Aang stood tall, pointing towards the midnight-blue horizon. The Captain was first to step down from the truck. Several motorboats were tied up, bobbing gently at the water's edge.
"Load up!" he ordered.
They set off, boat hulls bouncing over the surface of the water. Memorial Island came closer into view. Behind it glowed the Pro-bending Arena, projecting light into the dark clouds. The Captain looked above it where airships droned laboriously, each floating backwards through the sky.
Among the airships he picked out their own, wearing the colours of Future Industries. The face of the night's probending star appearance was plastered across the hull.
The bender enticing hundreds of others to their demise.
Minutes later, they came to land at Memorial Island. Republic City had pushed the Equalists out of its memory, a forgotten rebellion against the bending regime and their ill-gotten privilege. Security around the island had long since lapsed. Visitors at all had become a rare occurrence.
Either way, on such a night as this there was only one place benders were to be found.
"It's still standing," someone muttered at his shoulder.
"We haven't done our job yet," the Captain said.
"But how do we know it worked?"
"If it didn't, if we somehow failed or were stopped, we would have witnessed it in the moment." The Captain turned to his fellow Equalist. "Understand?"
They hesitated, then shook their head. He clapped a hand to their shoulder.
"You can stay behind and observe it then. Any other volunteers?"
Two Equalists among the group independently raised their hands.
"Us too," a woman said.
The Captain looked behind him and nodded at the pair of Equalists. "Seeing is believing for some. Everyone, down to the museum."
"What's the plan?"
"You've forgotten?" the Captain said, pointing to the brazen statue of a dead man. "We're tearing it all down tonight."
"Are you okay?"
With gritted teeth Korra pushes herself off the wall, leaving bodies slumped against it. She leans down, grabs the respiratory tubes of one of the Equalist's mask and rips it off their face.
"I'm fine," she says. "Them though..."
"Yeah," Asami replies, looking down at the unmasked, barely conscious man. "Korra, we should -"
Both women look up at the sound of boots scuffing the floor. Two figures run past at the end of the corridor.
Equalists.
Korra forces her legs into motion.
"Wait!" Asami cries.
She won't.
Korra spares not a single glance backwards. Even when a body falls to the ground, an Equalist's fist clamped around Asami's bare ankle.
Korra pounds down the corridor after her quarry. Her limbs scream when instinct calls for airbending and she whips her chi-blocked right arm out in an overhand strike. It feels like metal searing her flesh, a knife edge bleeding through her skin from the inside.
"Damn it!"
Korra stumbles, grimacing hard through the heat.
She musters and gives chase again. They are in sight only for a moment, then disappear.
Outside, into the night.
Where sirens blare, men and women shriek and approaching police airships bellow horns of war.
Korra has eyes only for the Equalists in front of her. Two of them, running for the raised pier extending out into the bay behind the Arena.
Running backwards.
One of them starts to slow, fatigued.
Korra smells blood. She snarls through the pain and charges.
The forward leap carries her into the Equalist's outstretched arms. They hit the deck, hard. The impact knocks Korra to the side and she lands on her shoulder.
"Fuck!"
The Equalist whips around and lands on top of her, straddling Korra's hips and bearing them down to the ground. The Equalist blocks and Korra lances her fist straight up at their face.
Behind them, the Equalist's partner jumps backwards off the pier.
"Tiaw!" the Equalist yells. "Tiaw!"
Korra bats away the gloved hand trying to jam fingers into her eyes. Stamping the soles of her boots to the ground, she throws her hips up and twists her torso.
The Equalist is unseated, throwing out their arms to prevent a face-plant.
She launches herself wildly onto their back. Korra's vision swims when she slams her nose straight into a wayward elbow.
The Equalist chokes when her forearm snakes under their chin. Their hand clamps around Korra's wrist when she grabs the respiratory tubing at the top of their mask and pulls.
An elbow pounds into her ribs. Korra gasps, folding around the point of impact. The Equalist slips out of her choke, flips onto their hands and feet, and crab-walks towards her.
Korra eyes widen at the movement. She scuttles back, catching the heel of the Equalist's boot with crossed forearms.
The first kick knocks her off balance. The second, Korra parries.
She lunges for the Equalist, mounting them above the hips. Her fist smashes into their cheek, then she grabs the top of the mask again. With two hands.
"Give me that," Korra snarls.
The Equalist bucks, grabbing at her hands. Korra rides the wave and pulls. The mask starts to slip and she sees a woman's jaw.
BOOM!
The ground quakes below her. Korra's grip springs open in shock and her eyes snap to the Arena. The Equalist drives hard from the hips, slipping out from under her. Before she can react, arms wrap around her and haul Korra backwards.
"Get off!"
They don't. Korra is pulled onto flailing feet. She drives her shoulder into the body pressed against her and spins with her fist raised.
"It's me!" Asami cries.
Korra's nostrils flare. She turns back to the pier. The Equalist bounds backwards into the air off a single foot and falls out of sight.
Asami pulls her back. "We have to go!"
Korra yanks her arm out of Asami's grip and sprints to the edge of the pier. Chest heaving, eyes narrowed, she watches a boat skim across the dark waters of Yue Bay towards Memorial Island. She turns on Asami.
"You let them get -"
The Arena explodes.
An enormous fireball blossoms into the night sky. The shockwave blows Korra off her feet.
Yue Bay swallows her whole.