Chapter Four
Republic City, United Republic of Nations
September 6th, 170 AG
If the Equalists thought Cyrus would take a break after stopping the Avatar's assassination cold, they were in for a rude awakening.
His campaign of terror continued for three more days, and in that time, a dozen Equalist operations were violently dismantled. The body count was close to surpassing the fabled 'Long Night,' and the police were ramping up their efforts to find him.
Checkpoints were being established at every other street block, police officers began patrolling known Equalist territory with added frequency, and airships were constantly monitoring the skies. The public understood the expansion of security measures, but Cyrus knew civilians well.
The police were mimicking the efforts of a standing army, and sooner or later, someone was going to do something astronomically stupid. People love their freedom, and cops aren't exactly understanding when they're working triple overtime.
For this reason, Cyrus decided to take a night off…for once.
The heat was too much for even him to ignore, and Raava was uncharacteristically quiet and outright refused to speak to him since he kept Korra away from Amon.
Her silence ended up being both a blessing and a curse.
It was the first time Cyrus was allowed to be cut loose without her overbearing presence, but once all his targets were taken care of, there was little direction to his movements. Raava was his all-seeing eye, and without her, his operations ground to a halt.
He didn't understand why she chose now to undertake a vow of silence, but he wasn't complaining.
Cyrus began to explore the city he'd been terrorizing the last few months. Most of his time in Republic City was spent in the downtown district, Dragon Flat boroughs, or the industrial district, leaving precious little opportunity to explore the rest of the city.
Until now.
If he could use a single word to describe Republic City, it would be magnificent. It is a staple metropolitan city in every sense of the imagination, presenting towering structures representing sophisticated development while mixing traditional buildings more in tune with the population's culture.
The civilians were as vibrant as their city, and not even the seasonal monsoons could temper their pleasant demeanors.
Cyrus walked amongst the crowds before spotting a location with a perfect view of Republic City and its pro-bending arena. The towering lights glistened off the calm emerald waves, and the scene alone reminded him of Ferax.
His home.
He couldn't stop himself from breaking from the crowds and striding down a flight of stairs all by his lonesome. Cyrus enjoyed the silence, but there was something soothing about bustling city life in the background.
The noise faded the further he descended down the steps, and he spotted a perfect location to enjoy the scenery and the sound.
But he would have to enjoy the sights with company.
A woman occupied the lookout, bundled in a mix of red and black clothing while tightly grasping an umbrella. From this distance and angle, it was easy for Cyrus to recognize her familiar visage.
It was Asami.
A piece of Cyrus immediately wanted to find a different location and get as far away from her as possible, but a deep curiosity stayed his feet. He wanted…no…he needed to speak to the woman his mother raised, and for better or worse, his innate curiosity would be settled tonight.
The Spartan glided with the grace of an autumn wind, his feet crushing the fallen leaves sporting a dark-brown tinge.
Asami dipped her head in acknowledgment but did not turn to meet his gaze. Her eyes held a deep sadness within them, but the only physical trace of her sorrow was a pair of barely noticeable teardrops.
Cyrus didn't know what spurned him into action but seeing her pain so visibly set before him ignited a foreign sensation deep within his soul.
Neither he nor Asami said a word when he gently took the umbrella from her grasp and carried it for her. She predictably stared at his colossal form with searching eyes, but he refused to meet them and continued gazing out into Yue Bay.
The Heiress privately questioned why she was entertaining this…stranger's close proximity, but she couldn't deny the odd sense of familiarity rolling off of him.
She didn't recall encountering someone so robust and…pleasing to the eye. His well-defined cheeks and sharp jaw were not foreign in the crowds she ran with, least of all her current partner, who was as fetching as it came.
But this stranger did possess a trait that separated him from the rest.
A pair of crimson orbs as vibrant as the sun and as deadly as a boiling volcano drew Asami in like a moth to a flame. This distinctive characteristic should have jogged her memory, but it did nothing for her.
Her confusion would not last the night.
"Rough day?" His words seemed to pull Asami out of her curious silence, garnering an answer in the form of an amused huff.
"Something like that." She answered, hugging her arms around her stomach to keep the autumn cold away. "What are you doing out here?"
"I like the view," Cyrus replied, his gaze sweeping across the emerald bay. "It keeps me calm whenever I have a disagreement with my…superior."
Asami didn't miss the resentment leaking from his tone. "Horrible Boss?"
"One of the worst I've ever dealt with." And that was saying something considering the crass nature of ONI handlers. They didn't give two shits about his life, but they were at the very least honest.
Cyrus couldn't say the same for Raava.
"Have you thought about quitting?" Asami ventured with a smile playing on her lips. "I'm sure I could use a butler to tend to my every need."
"Do you always offer employment to random strangers?"
"I'm being charitable." Cyrus snorted with amusement, and Asami mockingly arched an eyebrow. "You could at least be thankful."
"I am many things, Ms. Sato, but a charity case isn't one of them."
"You certainly dress like one." The Sato's scathing retort earned her a hum of mild annoyance from the Spartan.
"This coming from the woman drowning in her sorrows like a sulking child."
"I did not." Asami whirled on him in genuine offense, but Cyrus ignored it with an unconcerned shrug.
"Right."
"I don't!"
"Then I suppose you routinely take long walks in the middle of the night while a thunderstorm rolls by." A loud clap of thunder echoed in the distance. "Do I really need to go on?"
Asami's lips curled downward, turning away from Cyrus in a huff. "It's been a long week."
"People have those." She scoffed at his nonchalant reply, narrowing her eyes with an annoyed grunt.
"I severely doubt someone else has a father who's been bankrolling a terrorist organization and a lost sibling running around the city killing people left and right like he's a spirit damned boogeyman."
"That is certainly a…." Cyrus struggled to find the correct terminology to describe Asami's turbulent week. "…unique set of circumstances."
"That's one way to put it." The Heiress replied, crossing her arms and balancing her weight on one leg. "You got a name, or should I call you tall, dark, and broody?"
The Spartan felt a foreign sense of ire overcome his visage. "I do not brood."
"And I do not sulk." The raven-haired girl offered her hand. "Asami Sato."
The Spartan hesitated, his eyes trailing up the nimble arm and staring into her emerald orbs.
"Cyrus." He replied, taking the offered hand and clenching his fingers around her forearm. It wasn't the formal handshake Asami was accustomed to, but she would take it nonetheless.
"No last name?" She ventured, pulling her arm away from his oddly tender grasp.
"None that I know of."
"Cyrus." Asami tested the name, dragging out its foreign enunciation. "Can't say I've ever heard that name before. Where's it from?"
"Nowhere close."
"You're living up to the stereotype."
"Look who's talking." Cyrus countered.
"I don't catch your meaning." Asami's tone was low and challenging, but he met it with all the grace of an irate Hunter.
"You embellish the overconfident rich girl who's used to getting everything she wants."
"Not everything."
He stared at her, his eyes delving into her emerald orbs as she sought to match his knowing stare. She faltered, shying away from his unyielding gaze and leaving herself open to his verbal counter.
"I'm inclined to disagree." His attention fell away from the Heiress and focused on a passing cruise ship. "You've never gone a single day in your life on an empty stomach. When you wake up, you are accustomed to a comfortable bed, a study roof, and fresh clothes taken from an expensive drawer. If that isn't everything, then I don't know what is."
Cyrus couldn't keep the unrestrained bitterness from his tone. Asami practically inhabited the life he at one point could have lived, but it was all taken from him in a single night.
Did he regret the direction his life had taken?
Did he despise the duty entrusted to him?
No.
This was his life now.
And he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Do you always go for the throat?" Asami whispered, eyeing the Spartan with a sunken gaze.
Cyrus held back a derivative snort. "More than you know."
"I'd love to meet your parents."
This time, Cyrus let an unrestrained chortle of laughter grace Asami's ears, but it wasn't a delightful sound. His mirth was more in keeping with dark humor—a morbid, despondent echo.
"You're ten years too late for that conversation." Asami crunched her eyes and ejected a sorrowful exhale. She was no stranger to this topic, and there were a great many times she felt like hurling every expletive imaginable at the fool who breached this sensitive subject manner.
And here she went, stumbling headlong into it.
"I'm sorry," Asami looked up at him with sympathy, but his response caught her completely off guard.
"For what?" Cyrus answered, gazing into her emerald orbs with the blankest stare imaginable. "You didn't kill them."
Asami just…stared at him with genuine concern. His reply was so bland it almost felt like he was talking about the weather and not the passing of his own parents.
It shouldn't have been so crass, so disingenuine.
But then she saw a flicker of light, of sorrow that could not be faked no matter how much Cyrus tried to hide it from Asami.
Because she felt the Exact. Same. Way.
And he knew it.
"Was it quick?" Asami inquired, her hands resting on the crook of her elbows.
"I can only hope so." Cyrus didn't know what it was like to experience a slip space accident, but he imagined it wasn't a pleasant passing. "I wasn't there when it happened."
"I wish I could say the same." A single tear fell down Asami's cheek. Try as she might, nothing could hide the sorrow lurking within her emerald eyes.
"What happened?" His questioning turned her grief into pure unadulterated indignation. The memory of that fateful night was still etched into Asami's mind, and there wasn't a single detail she couldn't recall.
"Some Agni Kai thugs decided my home was a good place to toss over for some quick cash." A silent rage rolled off the Heiress in palpable waves. "One of them walked into the gardens with this…poisonous look in his eye."
Asami still remembered the graceful flow of her mother's beautiful red and black dress, the wind gliding across the emerald pasture, and the empty pit in her stomach when that...bastard broke into the gardens.
She would never forget that night.
"Was it quick?" Cyrus echoed her previous statement, but her reaction was much more visible. Her hands clenched, her fingers threatened to pierce through the fabric of her clothing, and her wrathful gaze sought to boil the ocean.
"No."
There was little need to linger on this…subject, but he needed to know the answer to one final question.
"Did they catch him?" Somehow this garnered a far more vicious reaction.
"They caught him." Asami bitterly replied. "But he got off with a light sentence after one of his crew took the fall, and my testimony was deemed inconclusive. My father was furious, and I was…I don't like to think about it."
"Who killed her?"
"The same piece of shit running the Agni Kai today."
"Jaozi," Cyrus remembered his name in a few Republic City Police dispatches regarding Agni Kai movements. The gang exclusively operated from a high-end hotel in the commercial district.
He needed to pay them a…visit.
"It irritates me that of all the gangsters getting killed around here, he isn't one of them." That was a not-so-subtle dig at the Reaper's violent activities, and Cyrus made a mild attempt to defend himself.
"It's a big city." He defended with a shrug. "And it has no shortage of garbage."
Asami did not agree with his statement. "Some are bigger than others."
Cyrus did not disagree.
The pair fell into a comfortable lengthy silence, long enough for the passing storm to disappear over the horizon. The dark clouds gave way and Cyrus looked to the sky, searching for that piece of home he'd that always stared back at him.
Actium.
He could see its burning red sun flickering amongst a sea of stars. It wasn't home, but it constantly reminded him why he was here.
And who was responsible?
"Damn you, Raava."
A distant clang echoed around the city as its massive clock tower struck midnight. The streets behind them had fallen into a quiet slumber, and now only the wicked or the damned populated the city.
"Thank you for the company," Asami announced, drawing the Spartan's attention. "But I need to catch the last ferry to air temple Island. I'd hate to get left behind."
Her words triggered a memory as distant as his home planet surfaced to the front of Cyrus's mind, and a once forgotten visage blossomed into existence.
"Leandra!" His father called out. "We're going to be late."
"Just saying goodbye, darling." A ghost of a hand grazed Cyrus's cheek. "Now, we'll be gone for only two days, honey. Your babysitter will be here in a few hours, so don't cause any trouble."
"Do you have to leave tonight?" She leaned forward, planting a drawn-out motherly kiss on his forehead before pulling him into a hug.
"Sorry, darling, but you know how antsy you're father can get, and I'd hate to be left behind."
"Leandra!"
"Coming!" Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Goodnight, honey. I love you."
His vacant gaze and souring disposition did not evade Asami's notice.
"Cyrus?" She pulled at his shoulder and received a silent murmur in response. "What was that?"
"You're not going alone." In a blink, his razor-sharp focus returned, and there was no trace of his vacant gaze within those crimson orbs.
Asami recovered from her stupor, and a small smile graced her lips. "That's sweet, but you don't have-."
"I want to." His statement was short and direct, an alien concept to the people she was accustomed to encountering. She stared at him with a thoughtful expression before ultimately relenting to his proposal.
"Fine." Asami wound her left arm through his offered hand. "But I must warn you. My boyfriend will be very cross if he thinks you're hitting on me."
Cute.
"My only concern is ensuring you get home safely, Ms. Sato, nothing more, nothing less."
Asami considered the Spartan carefully, and again that odd familiarity raked at her brain. He spoke with such confidence, such strength that it was hard not to take him at face value. She didn't give trust easily, but tonight would be the exception to the rule.
"I'll hold you to that, Cyrus." She tugged at his arm, charting a path up the flight of concrete stairs. "Now follow closely my trusty steed. I wouldn't want you to get lost in the big bad city."
"I am not a riding horse," Cyrus muttered, earning a look of appraisal from Asami.
"You're sure built like one." She poked at his arm with a pointed look, drawing an amused snort from the Spartan. The pair fell into a near-practiced banter, with Asami asking long-winded questions and Cyrus giving direct answers.
Their topics ranged from answering personal inquiries to the most random topics once could imagine. A spectator would be forgiven for mistaking them as longtime friends, but that was a product of how easy it was for Cyrus and Asami to converse. When their discussions dried up, the pair were not perturbed by the silence but embraced it with open arms.
"How long have you been in town?" The Heiress questioned as they turned a vacant street corner.
"Showed up a few days after the Reaper." Cyrus privately hated the moniker this city gave him. Reaper was a decent callsign, but it wasn't exactly a fitting nickname one should espouse with such confidence.
It made him feel second-hand embarrassment every time he heard it, but there was no changing the…creative thoughts of civilians.
There were easier things to champion.
"Have you seen him?" He had to bite back the derisive snort at her questioning, but he answered it nonetheless.
"No, and I have yet to meet anyone who's survived." Cyrus cast a shrewd glance at Asami. "Until now, that is."
"Lucky me." The Heiress retorted, digging her elbow into his side. "You afraid of him?"
"I fear nothing, least of all him." Cyrus felt eyes delving into the back of his head and turned to find a group of thugs eyeing Asami with wicked intent. An unspoken promise of retribution from the Spartan sent them running from view.
"You have no shortage of confidence." Asami joked, her focus centered on the sparse city streets. "What do you even do for a living?"
How do you tell someone that your purpose in life is to slaughter the enemies of humanity without actually saying it?
By picking a job that is meant for the soulless.
"Asset Liquidation."
Asami clicked her teeth with mild displeasure. "That's a cutthroat industry."
"You have no idea." Cyrus wondered what her reaction would be when she found out his currency was blood, not money.
The Heiress was saved from responding by the familiar scent of an ocean breeze invading her senses. She spotted the last ferry to air temple island waiting in port and turned toward the Spartan
"Thanks for walking me." Asami untangled her arm from Cyrus and retrieved her umbrella. "I'm not usually so trusting, but you're…different."
Different...that's one way to describe him.
"Don't tell your boy toy about this." The Spartan taunted. "Wouldn't want to make him jealous."
Asami merely shook her head with delight. "Jealousy would be a good sign from him. Sometimes I wonder if he has a thing for a mutual friend."
"He would be a fool to take you for granted." She laughed at his bold statement.
"You really know how to sweet talk a girl, don't ya."
"It's a fact." His direct nature earned him a curious glance from her, and she stared at him with renewed interest.
"Oh, you're good." Asami drew out, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't suppose you've reconsidered my offer. I can assure you that life will be a helluva lot more exciting than your 'asset liquidation.'"
"I already have enough excitement in my life." If he was looking for adrenaline-pounding excitement, there was no better example than the life of a Spartan.
"Somehow, I believe you." The Heiress turned towards the awaiting ferry, making eye contact with the boat's captain before glancing back towards the Spartan. "Take care, Cyrus."
"You as well, Asami."
She stepped onto the ferry and leaned her elbows against the railing. She waved at him in a silent farewell, and Cyrus returned the gesture with a barely noticeable nod. His eyes never once fell away from the Heiress, even when she docked on air temple island and greeted her friends.
"You would have been proud of her mom." The Spartan muttered to the stars above. "I only wish you were there to see her grow up."
Cyrus could feel the festering rage in his bones, ready to explode. Every step he took next to Asami constantly reminded him of his mother and her fate, no matter what reality she resided in.
Back home, his mother died from a terrible accident, along with hundreds of other people. There was no desire to seek vengeance because their was nothing to avenge.
But here was different.
On this plane of reality his mother died at the hands of a single blood-thirsty sociopath.
Cyrus was well versed in the process of immolation. It is a slow and agonizing sensation, with the flames burning and peeling away the skin before torching the nerves altogether. If the fire didn't kill you, then smoke inhalation or body fluids completely suffocate your lungs.
She died screaming.
Just like the civilians on Arcadia and a hundred planets across the milky way.
Just like his brothers and sisters on the fields of Pegasi Delta.
Cyrus would not let this…act of malice go unanswered.
Retribution sang with the fury of a summer typhoon.
A pair of spirits lingered within his shadow as the Spartan moved to sate this unquenchable thirst for vengeance.
To Raava and Vaatu, Cyrus was the final piece to their centuries-long conflict, and his allegiance would finally break their deadlock.
However, his loyalty cannot be bought or sold because his duty is to all mankind.
And Cyrus will never be found wanting.
Commercial District, United Republic of Nations
September 7th, 170 AG
"I fucking hate this shit." Sergeant Yulara was a ten-year veteran in the Republic City Police Department, and she had spent the last five patrolling the volatile streets of central division.
The officers under her command were far more numerous than she was accustomed to command. On an average night, Yulara supervised no more than twenty officers during her evening shift, but recent events regarding the Reaper have seen that number grow to fifty.
Everyone Officer on the Republic City payroll was out on the streets in force.
And yet, the benefits of more boots on the ground didn't outweigh the cons.
Her officers were running on fumes, and use of force complaints was creeping on record-breaking numbers. The peacekeeping directive every police force adhered to was being replaced with the doctrine of an occupying army.
Councilman Tarrlok's task force only fueled the fire with their constant disregard for non-bending civilians.
Republic City was a powder keg ready to explode, and Yulara could only pray her Officer wouldn't be caught in its blast radius.
"Baker 1-11 this is Dispatch. Come in over." The Police Sergeant reached into her patrol vehicle and snatched the radio receiver.
"Go ahead, dispatch."
"1-11 I have multiple civilian complaints about a metal bird hovering near the Red Dragon. Can you send a unit to verify over?"
"Roger that Dispatch I'll check it out myself, 1-11 out." Yulara climbed into her cruiser and ignited its gas-powered engine. She made a point of avoiding the gang-affiliated hotel, and she was tempted to send another unit to check it out, but her boredom needed to be sated.
The Red Dragon was a premier hotel that catered to the most elite clientele in Republic City. Anyone with a name came to this venue to conduct business, get wasted, or drown themselves in the luxurious arms of a Red Dragon escort.
Everyone in town knew that the Agni Kai circulated their dirty money through the hotel cash deposits, but a wave of bureaucracy met every attempt by the Republic City police to shut them down.
The gangsters had paid up to the right people, and no judge or attorney, for that matter, was brave enough to prosecute them.
With all legal avenues to curtail the Agni Kai closed, the Republic City Police were forced to patrol the premises and watch the gangsters conduct their business with impunity.
It grated at Yulara's duty as a peace officer, but she didn't have the power nor the political pull to bring down the Agni Kai herself.
For now, she was forced to grin and bear the shame of it all.
Her vehicle came to a grinding halt outside the hotel's reception lobby. Yulara's arrival went unnoticed by the civilians loitering outside, for their attention was drawn to the heavens.
The police sergeant squinted her eyes and picked out its bird-like shape hovering outside the penthouse where Jaozi the Dragon stayed.
Her deductive reasonings were immediately silenced by the sound of a muffled thump and a thick trail of smoke traveling in the direction of Jaozi's penthouse.
The colossal explosion was something that Yulara would never forget. Her training kicked in, and the police sergeant rushed back to her vehicle even as civilians ran for cover.
"This is Baker 1-11, Code 26 in progress Red Dragon Hotel. I need all available units to my location immediat-."
Yulara felt the hairs on her neck stand up, and she looked to the sky just in time to see a colossal object falling above. It screamed towards the earth with the fury of a raging typhoon, and she barely escaped its concussive blast as it slammed into her vehicle.
A dense cloud of debris briefly obscured her view, but as the earth settled and the cries of the nearby civilians receded into a profound stillness, something materialized from the shadows.
Yulara could never articulate how exactly this figure appeared in the blink of an eye, but its armor was dark as the night sky, and a white eagle was emblazoned on its shoulder pad.
A decade's worth of patrolling the dangerous streets of central division could not prepare Yulara for what was to come.
The rage.
The hatred.
She could practically see the raw emotion rolling off the armored beast's frame as it stepped out of the remains of her shattered patrol vehicle. Her arms were frozen, her breath came out cold and listless, and her eyes refused to blink as the tower of darkness walked into the Red Dragon and laid waste to every Agni Kai in sight.
The anguish of dying men and women should have forced Yulara to intervene and attempt to preserve life, but nothing could convince her to act.
Not her duty as a police officer, not the oath she took to protect and serve, and not even the explosive anger of her Police Chief could persuade Yulara to stand against one of the greatest terrors mankind had to offer.
The Reaper was furious.
And she dared not stand in his way.
