Author's Note: if you're all wondering whhy my uploading scheduele has been so off lately, its because I was busy a few weeks before and just a few days ago I was rushed into the emergency room. I'm stable now, nothing too bad has happened, but I had spare time in the hospital so I decided to finish this chapter and upload it. The next few updates may take a while to be uploaded, but they will arrive soon, rest assured.

Chapter 15: Tables Turning (Part 2)

A few hours after invading the Ember Island Devils' lair...

Amon grinned as the whimpers and cries mingled in with the two men's begging echoed through the cave, the bouncing reverberations pleasing the firebending princess. Beneath the face-paint, the carefully crafted high-pitch voice - perfected to match the original owner - and overly practiced posture, Azula wondered if she would be crazy to think she could replace the original AMon and take his persona as her own. Through the thrill of battle, by impersonating the clown-faced demon, Azula had noticed and basked in the pure fear and dread oozing out of her foes; the moments they first laid eyes on her ghastly face - just before she slammed their heads against the rough, rocky surfaces of the caves - it was a sensation she hadn't ever noticed when she was just Azula, just a firebending prodigy, just a princess. As Amon, she would be feared, truly feared; so unparalleled that no one dare challenge her lest they wish to dance with death. With the leader of the Ember Island Devils and his right-hand man beneath her, begging for mercy, Azula was reminded of the high she'd receive when people cowered before her -. It was truly wonderful; the feeling of people pleading by her feet, completely at her mercy. Though, she had to admit that in the moment, they didn't fear her to be exact, they feared Amon - the sensation was bittersweet.

"Please, don't kill me," begged the leader: Nez the Ratviper. "I'll give you whatever you want. Money? Properties? Slaves? You name it – "

"Although that does sound tempting," Azula – disguised as Amon – stated, in her practiced, raspy, high-pitched voice, "you must be made an example of."

Wanting to stick to the deadline - and not give the real Amon a reason to doubt her further, Azula shoved the firebender off her feet and punt-kicked the side of his face, knocking him unconscious as a result. Now that he'd been dealt with, she turned her attention to Nez's right-hand man who she was also ordered to subdue, just like the other gang members. However, instead of following the plan laid out for her, Azula chose to follow her own formulated future; the beginning of her treacherous path to the throne of the Fire Nation.

"Sit up, you filth," she ordered, disgusted as Azula used the top of her foot to tilt the man's chin up, thus causing him to sit broccoli on his knees as he peered up at her. "What's your name?"

"L-Lukon," The man was panting uncontrollably, coughing out blood as Azula wiped the scarlet substance off her boots against her black pants.

"You're his right-hand man, correct?" The man weakly nodded, "How familiar are you with your operations?"

The man was confused as to why Amon, a monster known to simply kill men like him first without and to ask questions later, was suddenly interested in having a conversation regarding the production of their rankings amongst the gang and their production operations.

"I could kill you right now," Amon reminded him warningly, holding a silver dagger she'd borrowed from Mai in her hands - she carved a bloody trail down his neck to demonstrate the seriousness of the situation. "So, if I ask a question, you better adequately answer it without hesitation… while you still can, that is." Azula wasn't really going to kill him - she hadn't the freedom to - but she'd found that fear and death combined were great motivators.

"Y-yes," Lukon answered weakly. "I manage this production facility. My drops in… well, he used to drop in from time to time, but other than that, this was mostly my domain. I h-handled –" due to the fear induced, frantic pace at which he spoke, the seemingly thirty year old man continued to cough through his response, "I handled everything from m-manufacturing, to packaging and d-distribution."

Satisfied with his answer, Azula smirked triumphantly as she cupped his chin, forcing him to stare into her transformed black eyes. "I'm going to let you live." She told him, thus causing his eyes to widen in surprise and disbelief. "Your leader Nez will die today, therefore, naturally, you'll become the man in charge."

Baffled, Lukon opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he finally halfheartedly found the question he wanted to ask; it wasn't that he was saddened by his bosses' death, but he didn't think he could trust Amon. "

"W-Why… why a-are you –"

"In the future, as your business grows, I will return to recollect the debt you owe me."

"What… What debt?"

"I will supply you with the same raw materials you use today: pure opium, except now, tenfold your current amount."

Lukon somehow had the gall to question Azula's demands, "And where will you find all this op-"

"That is none of your concern," Azula cut him off. "You will accept them with open arms, manufacture them into fulfilling and complete products, and distribute them to anyone who'll be willing to pay. Is that understood?"

Lukon nodded immediately, "As you wish." He was confused as to why Amon, an individual who had previously been crushing every major drug and weapons cartell and the people running them in the Fire Nation, was suddenly supporting, and even contributing to their efforts for the opposite goal to gain profits for himself, it would seem. Lukon felt it to be unbelievable and radically illogical. Unless… maybe this was a scheme; destroy the Underground and the Ember Island Devils from within – it was the more likely scenario. However, despite his doubts, Lukon was in no position to refuse Amon lest he wish to play with his life. So, he idly sat by and watched as Amon approached his leade– now supposedly, former leader; gripping onto Nez's leg as he began dragging his unconscious body out of the cave.

Azula huffed as she reached the exit of the cave and saw the time of day: afternoon, perhaps two or three; dragging Nez's heavy, unconscious body through the bodies of the knocked out gang members laying atop the stone was quite the tiring feat. Although she was slightly behind schedule, mostly due to her having a more difficult time defeating the Ember Island Devils than she'd calculated - and her little side deal with Lukon - Azula was still hopeful Amon wouldn't suspect something. A few minutes wouldn't make much of a difference; he was a smart man, he was aware that circumstances could affect how smoothly certain events - namely, raiding a drug manufacturing lair in this case - would unfold. So, she guessed he wouldn't doubt something had happened, that something being the unfolding of her soon to come betrayal.

Now, though, she was to execute this man, and relay a message to the entire Fire Nation, thus providing the Amon the leverage he required to defeat her brother. Afterwards, she believed - according to her plan - when Amon would allow his pride and ego to blind him, when he truly believed that he was undefeatable, all-powerful... unstoppable, she'd reveal her true agenda and take it all for herself - everything he'd have would be hers, and if she was lucky, so would he, either willingly or begrudgingly.

Meanwhile...

He tried to ignore the sudden wetness cascading down his wrists as they pools by his palms, the stress and thought that this might be his last day in office forced his heart to begin pacing as if it were amidst and losing a grueling Agni Kai. The meeting had gone as well as he could've hoped, however, now, the most difficult task was laid before him: convincing his council that he should retain his position on the throne as the Firelord.

"What are your reservations about me?" The Fire Lord asked, eyeing each of his council members individually until they eventually landed on the Avatar.

"Well, there's the obvious," General Azir began, annoyed and displaying a lack of respect for his current leader. "You're too indecisive, too passive. This Amon," he spat with disgust, "wouldn't be a problem now, if you had properly dealt with him before."

"And how was I to do that?" Zuko challenged, standing up for himself for the first time since the commencement of the meeting, attempting to unshackle himself from the chains his council had him in - one step at a time. "With minimal information about Amon, and an ongoing investigation providing me with little to no insight regarding his plans or motives, how in Agni's name did you expect me to respond apart from the manner in which I did?"

"You could've been more assertive," General Azir answered, "you could've prevented all this by ordering your men to roam the Capitol. You could've put out a search warrant for this bastard, or placed a bounty on this head. There are a hundred other routes you could've taken apart from the cowardly, indifferent one you chose!"

"So, your solution to preventing another civil war between the royal nation and its inhabitants, is by turning the streets into war zones?" Zuko replied, confused and disgusted. "I made a vow to not lead by violence. To remain patient, to analyse all situations and circumstances clearly with a level head before I made any major decision." He narrowed his eyes, giving the General a pointed look. "Amon was no different."

"That is not the same as-"

"Why are you all so worried about Amon anyways?" The Avatar interjected, causing every eye in the room to latch onto him as he spoke. "Majority of you want Zuko to be stripped of the throne, and to the best of our knowledge, Amon desires the same outcome. So, why are you so determined to relive the Fire Nation of the clown?"

While the council members glanced at each other, wary and concerned - fearing they'd been made - Zuko rubbed his temple. He was frustrated; the horrific economic and sociocultural state of the Fire Nation could be transformed for the better immediately, as soon as his council was stripped of its corruption. And, he'd hoped that Aang would aid him, however, with the confirmed suspicion of the Avatar disguising himself as Amon, Zuko knew he couldn't relay the truth to him. He wanted to keep his promise, but Zuko didn't know if he could help Aang, or where he would even begin.

"Our concerns regarding Amon are of no difference to you Avatar Aang," Azir replied, annoyed yet still somewhat cautious, whether it was out of fear for the Avatar or genuine respect, Zuko hadn't a clue.

Everyone in the room assumed the Avatar was unaware of why Zuko's council was afraid of Amon and why they desired his death, but he knew: their main sources of revenue resided from those drug manufacturing factories Amon was destroying, weapons dealings he was crashing, and deranged criminals under their thumbs whom he was killing - they needed him to refrain from committing those acts as soon as possible, and that was only possible by his detainment or death.

"Your only job," Azir continued, "is to help stop that monster, and to mediate during these meetings so they run as smoothly and optimally as possible."

Suddenly, the Avatar's eyes grew dangerous as he regarded the General, "You dare explain my value to me?"

Alarmed, General Azir immediately attempted to backtrack, "N-No Avatar Aang, I d-didn't mean to -"

A pounding on the door interrupted the now trembling General, allowing him a moment to compose himself as the Avatar's gaze bore into him. Zuko, already fed up with how the meeting seemed to be going nowhere as they were bickering amongst each other instead of actually progressing with the Amon situation, welcomed the distraction; he allowed the man entrance, however, he grew alarmed when his servant entered, panting and disturbed.

"Firelord Zuko, th-there's - on Ember Island… there's - its Amon," immediately, everyone's attention was drawn to the complicated, 'newly developed by the finest minds within Republic City' technology the servant had carried over to place in the middle of the lengthy war table. "Apparently, he's executing someone, and he's broadcasting it via radio."

He was worried, yet, regardless, Zuko nodded, gesturing to the man to set up the radio while Aang prepared himself. He'd been waiting for this news for a while now, and even though the timing was somewhat delayed, Aang was still otherwise satisfied as his plan was unfolding as smoothly as he could hope; the council was concerned and impatient - Councilman Zayn and general Fang had met their deaths and the Northern Council delegate Quinn Red was under his custody - his council was ready to strip Zuko of his title; they were desperate. And due to their desperation, they'd agree to almost anything now, therefore allowing Aang the opportunity to achieve the one constant variable and outcome in his plan.

The buzz of the radio breached his thoughts, deterring him away from his satisfaction and excitement as the man played with the knob, attempting to find the frequency Amon was currently utilising.

Meanwhile, Zuko was going through his own dilemma: 'He's still here. Amon's supposedly executing someone yet Aang's sitting right beside me. Just like that mover - but that video was pre recorded But… this is happening in real time, live. Is this a trick? Is he really innocent in all this? Am I wrong? Do all my suspicions hold no merit? Is he really not Amon? Or… could there be two of them?'

"It's ready," the servant announced, bowing to his Frelord, the Avatar and the council before he took his leave, closing the doors as he stepped out of the room.

As they adjusted the pitch to ease the smoothness of the frequency being transmitted from Ember Island, the well-identifiable voice of a popular new reporter rang through.

"We're here on Ember Island where the individual, who's been terrorising the Fire Nation these past few weeks, identified as Amon, is currently holding what appears to be a public execution of the man the locals fear: Nez, the current leader of the Ember Island Devils gang." The reporter informed as the council listened on, taking in all the information being provided in worry, anger and anticipation - some of them were silently seething.

"As we speak, Amon has kicked Nez to the ground; his legs and hands are restrained by a rope, and a tape strapped over his mouth is preventing him from speaking."

"Before you, stands the symbol of oppression: The Royal Villa and Palace."" Amon began speaking, and the reporters silenced themselves so they could relay what he had to say to their viewers and listeners. "

"For those listening, Amon has pointed to the Fire Lord's personal villa on Ember Island as well as the Royal Palace which can be vaguely seen in the distant island of the Capitol. The locals, mostly the poor of the island, have all gathered here of their own volition." The reporter clarified.

"While you all rot in poverty, and succumb to the Devils of this land out of necessity, hundreds of men relish in the profits; leaders, councilmen, and generals alike." Amon stated, causing a few murmurs from the crowd, many of them agreeing with his remark.

Most of the councilmen and generals in the war room flinched; they knew they were guilty, they just hoped the Avatar wouldn't suspect them, nor that Amon would somehow outright reveal their identities along with evidence of their transgressions and cause a public outcry amongst the inhabitants of many famished and economically failing islands in the FIre Nation.

"These villas stand tall, untouched and proud, while your very homes -" Azula - masked as Amon - pointed towards separate individuals within the crowd, "crumble beneath your feet. And, all this pollution, and corruption, is spreading under this man."

"Amon has just presented a photograph of the Fire Lord; the crowd is reacting with hostility; an outcry against the Firelord," the reporter claimed, which was supported by the reinforced cries of protest echoing from the crowd.

"Fire Lord Zuko, has been held up to you as the shining example of justice… and order. You have been supplied with a false idle to prevent you from tearing down this corrupt Nation. I am here… to liberate you."

"Amon has now ripped the Fire Lord's photo in half and the crowd is seemingly responding in support of his actions and message," the reporter once again clarified.

The guilty men within the room had now settled down somewhat, glad their transgressions were removed from the spotlight and that Zuko, instead, was being targeted.

"Beneath my feet lies a man. Most of you will recognise him as Nez the Ratviper," Azula stated, shifting to sit him up on his knees. "A majority of you have lost something to him: your homes, your children. And many of you are in debt to him… and all those high and mighty rich nobles," Azula pointed towards the villas behind her, "they starve you - bleed you dry while they continue to fill their own guts, and fatten their children."

"Yeah!" "He's right!" "Leeches!" The crowd cheered, accepting the statement as the truth.

"And this man," Azula pointed towards Nez, "sucks the life out of you, your children, this Nation… and those royals do nothing to stop him." Another roar of approval was heard from the crowd through the radio. "Here, I have a letter, written by this man before I captured him."

"Amon is now removing a scroll of sorts from his black cape," the reporter clarified.

"And it reads," the councilmen and generals once again felt the rush of fear pump their pitiful hearts as Amon continued, "The Fire Lord... is involved in all illegal activities that I run. He has knowledge regarding the Underground and my gang's operations, and with the help of his officials and generals, he gains profits from our businesses while providing us with the resources and favours we require to adequately run them. I have harmed many, killed many, and after witnessing the extent of blood stained on my hands, my own two eyes have been opened. I am ashamed to know that my hands also carry the blood of children. By association, I guess the Firelord and his councils are stained too. I beg the people I've hurt to accept my apology regarding my transgressions, and on behalf of the royal family, I also beg for forgiveness, for I have been humbled, and now regret… all that I… have done."

The entire councilroom remained silent, as did the crowd - only the buzz of the radio provided a notion of time and reality until Amon's voice boomed once again.

"And do you accept this man's apology?!" Amon asked his audience, which his audience objected to in an uproar.

"NO!"

"And do you accept the apology of all those other liars?! The corrupt?!"

"NO!"

"The crowd is becoming more and more unstable. It will be dangerous to remain. We may need to leave soon," the reporter stated, worried and cautious.

Terror continued to weigh down on the men within the war room, causing their anxiety to spike as they feared the future. Would they be hunted by those they oppressed? Would the Nation revolt against the entire council? Was their reign at an end?

"Today, we begin the journey to take the Fire Nation back from the oppressors!" Amon roared, thus causing the crowd to cheer him on. "And we begin by removing this man, the leader of the Ember Island Devils."

"As we report, Amon is now standing directly behind Nez the Ratviper, holding a dagger to his throat," the reporter informed. "We believe he means to make a public display of violence as a direct message for the Firelord and his Council."

"The oppressors! The corrupt! They will know our pain!" Amon roared once again, the crowd continued to cheer him on, some even told him to kill the man, knowing full well that is where it was all leading to. "And they will know our wrath!"

"Yeah!" - "Down with them!" - "Kill him!" - "Bloodsucking scum!" - "Devil!"

Suddenly, through the radio, the gasp of the reporter reverberated - even through the crowd's roars - before she elaborated, "He… he's dead. Amon has just killed the leader of the Ember Island Devils. And he… he's about to -"

The transmission was lost, the constant buzz of the radio supplying the only supply of sound within the room while the council attempted to contain their fear. Now that Amon had executed someone in public, and the crowd had openly supported him, they couldn't help but imagine protesters storming the Royal Palace and their personal offices, their homes even… dragging them outside and offering them the same end as a consequence.

"This… this is bad," Councilman Zion, Zuko's trusted advocate, observed. "Amon now has the support of the public; Fire Fountain City, Harbour City, Ember Island, Shu Jing Village, even folk within the Capitol share his desires, his visions."

"How are we to overcome this?" General Azir asked, for the second time that day, his face and voice was completely engulfed with dread.

'Perfect,' Aang thought. 'They're desperate. Clueless. Lost and afraid. They're ready to agree to anything. Now's my chance.'

"There is one solution," Aang replied, causing the council's heads to perk up in his direction with curious yet hopeful eyes. "I'm sure many of you have heard the rumours about me in the Earth Kingdom from a few years ago." He began, careful yet somewhat overconfident, believing he'd already won. "Some of those rumours are obviously false, others however, have a layer of truth within them. Needless to say, despite what's right or wrong, the one factor none of you here can deny is that I am extremely efficient and effective at what I set my mind to."

"What are you proposing, Avatar Aang?" General Azir asked, uncaring of the glare the Firelord was sending him before it landed on the now smirking Avatar.

"I will hunt Amon down myself." He stated surely. "I will do whatever it takes to bring him before you, and I will get to the task as soon as possible."

"And why haven't you done that already?" Another councilman asked, challenging the Avatar as he was reminded of his purpose. "Your sole job is to keep the peace and the FIre Nation has been restless and in dismay for months now… why haven't you done anything about it yet?"

"Because of you."

"Me?" The councilman asked, pointing at himself, confused.

"Yes, you. And you," Aang turned his head to regard the man sitting beside him, pointing his scrutinizing finger at each and every one of them.. "And you," he turned to another. "All of you. Your laws, and restrictions, and reservations, they prevent me from completing said tasks." Knowing others wouldn't understand, Aang decided to drive the message home fiercely, therefore leaving no room for further assumptions or debates, "I can't hunt down a ghost if I'm constantly worrying about formalities, or having stuffy nobels breathing down my neck."

Zuko's fear spiked; Amon's transgressions and the public's support for him had certainly frightened him, but Aang's next request - which he now recalled - was far worse and irrevocably damaging.

"I'm assuming you want something," General Azir observed, now curious and desperate as, for him, Amon's complete and other destruction was now a must - and despite himself, he knew he could trust the merciless Avatar to finish the job, as he had supposedly done a few years ago, to whom the General believed the be the true leader of the Fire Nation.

Aang grinned as he turned to Zuko, causing the firebender to brun and grow further enraged as he gazed into his volcanic, amber depths. "Indeed, I have a requirement." Now removing his grin, deciding it might frighten or unnerve others, he regarded the entire council as he spoke. "I want… complete autonomy."

Meanwhile...

Toph continued walking, navigating her way through the large, confusing and maze-like corridors of the Palace as she searched for the war room. She'd already been late, and due to Sokka's games - which she was going to pummel him for later - she was sure she'd likely missed the meeting altogether. However, as she decedended down a rather long corridor, she recognised two distant yet familiar heartbeats: Zuko's and Aang's - many other foreign hearts occupied the space. 'That must be the war room.' Relieved, she picked up the pace as she navigated her way towards the room. However, as she continued descending, the earthbender recognised yet another heartbeat, one which wasn't meant to be around the area at all as she was meant to be making preparations for the wedding. And said person was accompanied by another, one also unfamiliar to Toph. She picked up the pace once more as said individuals approached the war room.

While Toph makes her way to the war room...

"Very well, Avatar Aang," his heartbeat quickened, pounding loudly as victory was a few inches from his grasp; the council was desperate and blind, Zuko was pushed to a corner, and the public was ready to raid the Royal Palace… everything had gone exactly as planned.

"We agree…"

The corner of his lips turned upwards, forcing him to reveal the smile he tried so hard to contain.

"To offer you…"

He gripped the arms of his chair as his toes curled… this was it… he'd won…

"Complete autono-"

"That won't be necessary," objected a voice.

Alarmed, everyone's eyes flew to the now flung open doors. Standing there, in all her pride and glory, was Lady Katara… with the Northern Delegate: Quinn Red beside her, tired and worn out, yet determined.

Shocked, the Avatar could only glare at the waterbender while her eyes bore into his own, challenging and defiant while he attempted to calm himself down: 'No… No. No. No. No. No! This was not supposed to happen! I had everything under control! How did she even know where to-"

"There's no need to fear Amon any longer," Katara stated, thus pulling Aang away from his thoughts. For the first time since the war, she noticed the look of genuine dread and worry flash within his silver eyes - no longer dark or graphite, yet still broken and confused, for the time being. She didn't like seeing him like this, but she had to do it, if not for everyone else, then for his sake.

"Through the utilization of our intelligence, I managed to locate and recapture our Northern Delegate: Quinn Red… and soon, very soon…" She stared Aang down, her pointed glare unwavering, "Amon will meet the same fate."