Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned here.

This story was made with the sole purpose of entertainment and is not intended to be taken seriously in any social, political or religious context under any circumstances.

As such, the actions and/or viewpoints expressed by the characters in this story do not automatically reflect the opinions of the author.

This purely fictional tale is not meant to neither educate nor serve as any kind of moral example to follow by whomever consumes this type of content willingly.

"Avatar" and its characters belong to "Nickelodeon".

"Spawn" and its characters belong to "Image Comics"/Todd McFarlane.


Book Two: Earth

Fateful (K)nights

VI

The Night Will Always Win


"Wanda!"

As a wolf howling at the wild nightsky, Al cried to the obsidian heavens that had forsaken him…

Drifting aimlessly across the upper sphere, the dazzling edge from a pale moon looked down upon him. Its curved glare mimicking the crooked smirk of a killer.

The fire mercifully snuffed out on its own. His charred being remaining enveloped by blackened smoke.

"Wanda!…" he wailed again, wearily picking himself up.

The ashen, repugnant flavor of fume filled his palate. The agonizing bitterness of failure lingered.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" with trembling, decaying legs, Al raised and tried to walk, stumbling like a drunken man around the alley. Every move he made brought him unbearable pain.

"Everything, all of it! I did it for you…"

Bumping onto a nearby wall, he stopped, squeezed his eyes tightly shut, then summoned her picture in his mind.

Her gentle gaze that always comforted him. Her soft, reassuring smile that became his reason to live.

Anything…

The woman he sacrificed everything for, only appeared amidst blurry visions, wreathed in warmth, crescent heat, undying blaze.

The flames… They would never leave…

The ever-starving flames, after finishing the feast of his flesh and soul, now began devouring his last anchor to humanity.

"I just wanted to see you again… one last time…"

He could almost see her pristine figure, but the precious details escaped him.

So he wept, knelt on the scorched ground, covering his face with both hands out of fear, shame, regret, yearning…

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen…"

Lowering his palm, Al lifted his stare, encountering a dark silhouette in front of him.

The surrounding obscurity maintained the newcomer's identity well hidden. Yet, he already knew who it was, when that putrid, rotten stench assaulted his nostrils.

"And to think an emo with a book of matches did this to you, a high-ranking officer of hell's army…"

Chanting tauntingly, Malebolgia's lap-dog stepped into the light.

"I almost feel sorry for you, Spawnie… Almost…"

"You-!" the nauseating presence of the clown reinvigorated Al's energies. Through boundless fury, he quickly sprang to his feet, lashing against the glutton.

Alas, he unexpectedly stumbled and fell mid-way, since his burnt muscles restrained him greatly.

Which elicited a booming horselaugh from the clown…

"Oh man, it's not even funny anymore," he said, still cackling like a hyena. "How many times you're gonna' let yourself be torched? How many times are you just gonna' bend over and take it? I didn't think you were of the submissive type…"

With seething rage, Al looked up anew. His palms coiling to fists over the soil.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock," the clown spoke mockingly, crouching before him. "The clock's still ticking, champ. Judgment's comin', and you really need to get your shit together before the man gets pissy again… But you know what? It's fine! Wanda's not going anywhere, and neither are you… After all, it's not the end of the world if you don't make it back home, right?"

Afterwards, the clown rose, turning his back on him. And he laughed…

Laughed, and laughed and laughed, till his demonic sniggering echoed in his deepest thoughts.

"Ah, I really needed that…" eventually, his mirth ceased, succeeding a delighted sigh. "Now, get up, and tidy yourself a bit. You have guests comin' over…"

Speaking no other words, the hell-born glutton tucked his hands within his pockets, and retreated into the shadows, vanishing from the scene.

Upon losing sight of the clown, Al's eyes narrowed beneath his mask. 'Guests? What is he-'

Suddenly, his breath left him, fluorescent green abruptly splashing his visual field.

Later on, suffering manifested… Infinite suffering flaring across his torso.

He coughed, gasped sharply, even gargled while his mouth flooded with viscous wetness.

Despite the splitting ache ailing him, Al managed to glance down at himself. The fibers of his neck burning excruciatingly during the simple effort.

It was heavy. It unbalanced him as it swayed back and forth.

The wide lance of stone protruding outwards from his chest, soaked in his verdant blood.

Slowly, he reached for the spike mangling his insides. His fingers weakly encompassing its elongated tip.

That is, until he perceived a familiar sound. The unmistakable tinkling of little metal bits bouncing together.

However, this wasn't his doing…

By surprise, Al felt a cold grip numbing his wrist.

Instantly, the mysterious hold mightily pulled him, made him swivel.

Following that, he spotted an iron shackle, attached to a chain emerging from entrance of the alley.

Then, another shackle rapidly surrounded his throat, effectively immobilizing him.

Forced onto one knee, Al grunted, for his strength abandoned him upon being burned to a crisp a second time.

With his arm forcibly stretched, and a rocky spear piercing his ribcage, he just clasped his free palm around his steel leash.

Nevertheless, he finally could lay eyes on whomever had attacked him.

He found five identical figures entering the passage, slim, sporting long robes of smooth edges. Their only distinctive feature were the conical hats obscuring their faces.

The two ominous shades on the sides firmly wielded the chains restraining him.

Al swiftly realized, these men wore the same attire as those that invaded his alley earlier.

The so-called 'Dai Li' police which the masked bastard mentioned.

Among them, a particular entity stood out from the rest…

His bald head caught the moonlight brilliantly. His garments more ornate than his counterparts', having golden details neatly sewn across the cloth.

His hands concealed under his loose sleeves joint together. Thick brows crowned his sly glare, and a tapered moustache with a short goatee outlined his deceitful smirk.

"So, this is the infamous 'shroud' of the fountain?" the unique one said tauntingly. "I must say, after all the rumors, and your crimes against my men, I can't help but feel slightly… disappointed…"

"You… You just committed suicide… All of you…" Al retorted lowly, clinging to his last remnants of lucidity. Even in his current state, he would not be intimidated by some uptight law-enforcers.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" the man huffed. "The snarl of a wounded animal? It would seem that reports of your… 'ferocity', have been greatly exaggerated. You have no idea of what you've done, the damage you've caused… But no more. The tale of the shroud ends tonight. Bring him in."

On cue, a pair of shadows from the quintet stepped forth.

At unison, they waved their arms with grace, holding them overhead like spires aiming for the stars.

Subsequently, the ground fissured, and a huge boulder steadily rose, spreading thick clouds of dust throughout the alley.

Al's eyes widened.

He tightened his muscles, attempting to stand. But no matter how hard he tried, his stamina endured absent. Was the cloak turning against him once more?

Soon, both men dropped their arms, causing the gargantuan rock to plummet upon him.

And his world became shrouded in darkness…


At last, his dreamless sleep began receding.

Gradually, consciousness returned to him.

He inhaled profoundly. Although, his lungs remained depraved of sufficient air.

It was difficult, it was painful. His chest pulsated with maddening soreness.

Carefully, he tried picking himself up, but a great lethargy immediately seized him, anchored him to the soil.

Al groaned, shaking his head.

Amidst the hazy blurs occupying his vision, he perceived the vaguely-contoured shape of his hand resting before his face.

His forearm came into view, missing a chunk, as if a ravenous beast had chewed on it.

Even through the fuzziness clouding his eyes, he could clearly see the fibers of his flame-bitten muscles, twitching whenever he unconsciously moved.

Sluggishly, he lifted his hand. His attention falling upon the wide cut across his palm, surrounded by the gleaming, gooey mucus which was the lifeblood of his demonic form.

In that moment, he felt a light brush around his knuckles. Its cause quickly manifested.

A centipede crawling between his fingers.

It wasn't particularly large, and despite the sapphire coloration of its exoskeleton, the bug didn't seem too different from the ones he knew.

Definitely not the strangest thing he's seen lately, so Al showed little interest.

That is, until the insect approached his open hand…

Barely able to move, and too tired to care, he watched the centipede wiggle its long antennas near his palm.

Abruptly, the bug started crawling into his wound, worming its way inside his arm.

There was no pain, only a weird tingling, while Al calmly observed the insect's silhouette sliding underneath his skin.

'Till it vanished…

The living lump amongst his tendons unexpectedly dissolved over his flesh, for he couldn't sense it any longer.

Surprisingly enough, the wound in his hand rapidly stitched itself together, healed itself.

Just as the gaps in his forearm commenced their own replenishing process.

Al's palm formed a fist, and he looked up with much more ease.

That's when he heard it. A loud buzzing.

The unmistakable sound of a million legs clicking on the land. A thousand wings fluttering in the wind.

Instinctively, he turned his sight towards the source of the commotion. What he found bewildered him to no end…

Countless cockroaches and earthworms seeping off the cracks in the ground.

Along them, a horde of spiders abandoned the dark above, accompanied by other insects he failed to recognize.

Using his newly-acquired strength, Al rose, and kneeled in front of the endless swarm marching to his direction.

Nonetheless, he did not fear them, because they were the same as him…

Creatures of the night dwelling amid the shadows, exiled from the civilized world due to the horror restlessly haunting them.

Regardless, they answered his call, like they did after he fought that vampire at the old cathedral.

Thus, Al welcomed them, endured motionless whilst the insectoid army covered his legs, ascended over his torso.

Eventually, his body disappeared below the hissing tide of bugs.

Though he still could spot the gaping, glistening hole on his chest.

And the bugs seized it…

Without warning, the swarm swiftly, simultaneously, entered his pierced thorax, akin to water running down the drain.

Quickly, the deafening buzz ceased, and no insect roamed the vicinity, since they were all within him, replacing his entrails.

Spontaneously, his gutted ribcage began closing on its own…

Bits of flesh knitting themselves together. Bone regrowing, hardening in a heartbeat. Even the annoying whistling that accompanied his respiration attenuated into nothingness…

Thereby, Al was whole again…

Fully recovered, he took a deep breath, and fresh air instantaneously reinvigorated him.

As his injuries became a matter of the past, he stood up, looking around, finding several stalagmites emerging from the fractured soil.

Obscure passageways were carved in the irregular walls, resembling a maze, or a nest.

Shortly later, Al's focus centered on the crystals populating the cave, possessing various shapes and sizes, all of angular, sleek edges.

Yet, their most intriguing characteristic resulted to be the bright, cerulean glow they ceaselessly emanated. The sole light in the entire cavern.

"Hurm…" beaten by curiosity, Al walked toward a nearby crystal.

Once there, he raised his hand, grabbed the luminescent diamond, and he tore it off the rock with a fast pull.

Narrowing his eyes, he quietly studied the severed gemstone, which slowly started losing its natural brilliance.

An idea crossed his mind…

Steadily, Al applied greater force to his grip. Soon, the shard fractured, then shattered almost effortlessly. Glassy bits bouncing everywhere.

Satisfied, he tilted his open, completely unscathed palm, pouring the lingering remnants of the crystal onto the land, like sand from an hourglass.

Any doubt poisoning his thoughts was forgotten in that instant. He had finally reclaimed his strength…

'Interesting… Now, time to find a way outta-'

Al's line of thinking ended when thundering, grinding noises filled the cave. He immediately spun, tensing his muscles, eagerly craving his chance for vengeance that he would enact on whomever made the cavern tremble.

"Ow!"

But utter bewilderment replaced his bloodlust, as a mysterious figure rolled over a steep slope beneath the only entrance to the crypt.

Succeeding that, an enormous boulder cut off the exit, drowning the broad pillar of light seeping inside.

Upon gazing at the newcomer, Al's stiff stance relaxed, because he already knew her…

Youthful, brown-skinned girl with cocoa-colored hair braided into a lengthy ponytail, wearing a long, blue dress matching her gentle irises.

The Avatar's friend. That girl who desperately pleaded for his safety…

"Ugh…" groaning, she weakly rose.

She shook her head, blinking hastily. And promptly, her vision found him…

"I-It's you!" she exclaimed, kneeling on the soil. "The shroud! 'Hellspawn', isn't it?"

"The Avatar's girlfriend…" Al replied solemnly.

"W-What!?" the girl stammered, her face turning crimson all of the sudden. "I'm-I'm not his-, I mean-… N-Nevermind… Ouch…"

She sharply winced and recoiled, holding her arm against her bosom.

Tentatively, Al stepped forth, trying to avoid frightening the girl. When he neared her position, he caught a glimpse of a purple bruise encompassing her wrist.

'Looks painful…'

"I-… I can fix that. Heal it." he said doubtful, in a low voice that couldn't hide his wariness.

Remaining silent, the girl glanced at him with seeming disbelief.

"I won't hurt you. I promise…" cautiously, Al crouched beside her, offering her his hand.

She looked down for a bit before timidly extending her arm towards him.

Thereupon, Al wrapped his callous fingers around the girl's forearm, gently, as if she was made of glass. He let out a profound sigh, closing his eyes.

After that, the verdant glow of his hellish powers flared mightily. The cave shone in pale green while he projected his will upon the shroud, coercing it to mend, rather than harm.

Some seconds later, the spectral brightness rapidly dimmed until wholly fading.

Expectantly, Al released the girl's arm, and she quickly retrieved it.

Much to the surprise of both, no injury persisted on her limb. The ministration had proven successful, despite the odds.

"This is incredible…" she trailed off, inspecting her arm wide-eyed. "… Thanks…"

"Feeling better now?" Al raised from the ground, retracing one step.

"Y-Yeah, I'm just a little sore from the fall…" she answered, also standing up. "I-I also have healing abilities, but I need water to use them."

Al hummed in reply. "You and your friends are really something else… I didn't hear your name, though."

"Huh?" the girl lifted her gaze. "Oh, of course! I'm 'Katara'. It's nice to meet you. Outside of the alleys, I mean… Do-Do you have a name? Other than 'Hellspawn'?"

"Call me 'Al'… And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for attacking you all at those alleys. I'm-… I've been having a couple of rough nights…"

"It's… It's fine…" Katara moved her hands behind her back. "Your friend was kind enough to explain things."

"Friend?"

"An old man we met when you left. He told us his name, but I can't remember it…"

"An 'old man'!? 'Cogliostro'!?"

"Yeah, I think that was it!"

"If he's really here, he might know how to go back. I need to find him."

"I'm-… I'm sorry, but I don't know where he is now. He just left the morning after. Actually, I think he was looking for you."

Al said nothing in response. He merely spun on his heel. 'It can't never be fucking easy, can it?'

"Aang-My friend also told us about you… About the things you lost…"

He shuddered with those words.

What does this girl know about him? Does she know his past?

Whatever the case, it became obvious, he wasn't a complete stranger anymore…

"I wasn't always the monster you see…" his vision dropped upon his crimson-gloved claws. "I… I made a deal with a demon that cost me my soul… I just wanted to see her one more time, the woman I loved. He allowed it, but in exchange, he turned into… this…"

But then, he felt a presence closely, approaching.

Glancing to his side, Al met a preoccupied Katara gazing upwards at him.

"You are… different, yes," she spoke softly. "But that doesn't make you a monster."

"Maybe… Or maybe you don't know what real monsters look like."

"I-I do know… Because a monster took my mother away…"

Ensuing that, Katara averted her sight from him and walked away.

"The Fire Nation took her… I was there, and I couldn't do anything. This war has put us through so much. My brother, my people, the whole world… I-… I can't-…"

A sharp sob severed her sentence. After putting significant space between Al and herself, Katara simply wrapped her arms around her waist as she continued weeping, loudly, unrestrained, indefinitely…

Meanwhile, Al just contemplated the scene in silence.

Her reaction awakened something within him. Foreign worry, uneasiness. Genuine concern over her welfare.

Driven by empathy, he started advancing, intending to offer what little solace he could, since he also understood loss all too well.

However, he stopped…

He stopped once his taloned palm hovered above her shoulder. He stopped because the grim aura that haunted his devilish being endured in the forefront of his mind.

Thusly, he withdrew again, maintaining his distance. Giving the poor girl additional trauma wouldn't help anyone.

Successively, like she somehow had sensed the situation, Katara swiveled to face him, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

"I'm-I'm sorry," she declared through faint hiccups. "Please forget I said anything… How did you get here, anyways?"

"Those… What do you call them? 'Dai Li'?" Al scowled at the memory of his defeat. "Fuckers ambushed me in the middle of the night. I woke up here just a while ago."

"What? Oh no, then it's much worse than I thought… Listen, I'm not sure if it's okay to ask you a favor so soon, but the whole city is in danger. The Fire Nation has infiltrated Ba Sing Se!"

"The Fire Nation…"

"Ah, right. I forgot, um…" taken aback, Katara blinked and scratched her nape awkwardly. "I-I don't even know where to start…"

"From the beginning, if you can," Al said earnestly, stepping closer. "I'm gonna' need you to tell me exactly what's going on in this city. The whole deal about your Avatar friend, the Fire Nation, and their war. Everything…"

"Oh, alright…" she cleared her throat, straightening her posture so the history of her people was appropriately delivered. "Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. 'The Water Tribes', 'The Earth Kingdom', 'The Fire Nation' and 'The Air Nomads'. It was a time of peace, but that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked…

Only the 'Avatar' can master all four elements and bring balance to the world. Only he could stop the ruthless firebenders. But when the world needed him most, he vanished…

A hundred years have passed since then, and the Fire Nation is nearing victory in the war. Some people believed the cycle was broken, and the Avatar was never reborn among the air nomads.

But then, my brother and I discovered the new Avatar. Aang, the last airbender.

That's why we came to the Earth Kingdom, but the Dai Li have kept all of this secret from the Earth King, to keep control of Ba Sing Se. The Fire Nation has also infiltrated the city. And without the King's help… we might not be able to end the war… Sorry, I suppose this is a lot to take in."

"It is," Al interjected. "But your friend told me a similar story. I think I've got the gist of it now."

"Then…" chewing on her bottom lip, she gave him a hesitant look. "Would you help us?"

Anew, he didn't answer. He only gazed down pensively.

Partaking in another war? Another war which scope and concern went far beyond him?

No… He's had enough…

The blood soaking his conscience. The brimming graveyards. Dirtying his hands for the higher powers that pull the strings of the cloak, denying him death's sweet release.

Al has had enough…

Wanda needs him, now more than ever before. He must return.

But he can't return. Not alone…

The old bum. If he truly walked this alternate Earth, he might know a way back home.

There's also the Avatar and his friends.

Meddling kids oblivious to the ineffable evil humanity is capable of. They still haven't learned. Innocent optimism doesn't win wars.

Irregardless, their cause seems just. Perhaps, with a push in the right direction, they can materialize the unthinkable peace from their fantasies.

Otherwise, they could at least lead him outside the shadows, where all of this is no longer his problem…

"First, we need to leave this place," Al glanced up to Katara. "Maybe through the entrance they just-"

Suddenly, the ground shook, stone shifted sonorously, and a beam of light cascaded into the cavern.

Next, over the slope below the entrance came trundling a familiar face.

The two-faced bastard he battled in the alleys. That pale, scrawny kid of short, dark hair, with the blemishing scar circling his left eye.

His clothes were different, though, as he wore a loose, long-sleeved apron possessing green and golden details woven onto its fabric.

"Zuko!?" Katara unexpectedly exclaimed.

"You…" Al unconsciously growled. His fists clenched strongly, clamoring for blood.

There was no doubt about it. It was him, the swordsman of the blue mask…

"You!"

His body moved on its own, boundless killer instinct driving him forward.

This time, the shroud projected its will upon him whilst he lashed against the scarred swordsman, who had already assumed an offensive stance, traces of flame manifested around his outstretched arm.

Even so, Al didn't fear the flame…

The shroud reacted in tandem with his thoughts. His chains lunged onwards, rapidly enveloping the kid's arm, tying it behind his back.

When Al stood ahead him, he immediately caught him by his throat.

And he lifted him from the soil, enjoying the image of him kicking frantically to undo his immobile hold while gasping for air.

"Not so tough now, are ya'?" Al slowly tightened his grip surrounding the firebender's neck. "How about a rematch? Let's see how well you do without fireworks…"

"Why did they throw you in here, Zuko?" Katara swiftly joined the conversation.

"You know this douche?"

"He is 'Zuko', prince of the Fire Nation. He attacked our village, stole my mother's necklace and used it to track us down. He's been chasing us all over the world to capture Aang and keep the war going until the Fire Nation wins. He's a menace, and a terrible person trying to destroy our last hope for peace!"

"I see… Is it true?" Al looked again at the supposed 'prince' within his clutches. Infernal fury building in his gut.

"I-I…" sounded a hoarse response through Zuko's gritted teeth. "I won't… beg… Do what you have to…"

"Good," Al chuckled. "That's all I needed to hear. Turn around, Katara. This is going to get ugly…"

"W-Wait!" on the spur of the moment, Katara reached for Al's shoulder. "While part of me really wants you to do it… It's not right…"

Furrowing his brow, he turned to her. 'Great, another idealist…'

"Wanna' know what I told your friend the night you came looking for me? There's only one place for murderers in the world. Six feet under…"

"Killing him won't end the war."

"It will keep the victims from piling up! It will keep innocents from-"

A deafening thunder cut him off short, followed with a brusque tremor shaking the entire cave.

Everyone's attention headed toward the billowing smokescreen filling the bottom of the crypt. Pebbles bouncing across the land as the rock crumbled.

Then, two silhouettes entered the cavern, their identities concealed under the brownish fog.

Soon, the fuming mist began clearing, unveiling the sight of the young Avatar Aang accompanied by someone else.

An old man. But not the old man he knew…

This one, bloated like a drowned pig, sported lengthy garments of whitish and verdant coloration. His wrinkled face twisted in visible worry. His eyebrows, as the lengthened beard brushing his chest, were bushy, grey, highlighting several winters past them. On the contrary, his lustrous head wholly lacked hair.

"Zuko!" straight away, the elder called, taking a step forth, which made Al tighten his grasp encompassing the prince's neck.

Yet, true to his pacifist nature, the Avatar stopped him…

"Noble shroud," Aang spoke, a determined frown contorting his expression. "Al Simmons…"

Al let out a quivering breath, utterly baffled by the mention of his name from the Avatar's lips. "You-… How did you-"

"You showed me," Aang interrupted him, his voice remaining serene. "That night we talked at the rooftop, remember? You showed me who you once were. A good man…"

Al's scowl strengthened beneath his mask. 'What game is this kid playing?'

"If you think I'm a 'good man'," he responded. "Then you weren't paying attention."

"I know what I saw, what you wanted me to see. I also know that you are much more than a merciless spirit of vengeance. In honor of the man you used to be, please… let him go…"

"Let him go!? After he's been hunting you and your friends for God knows how long!? And then stoking the flames of a fucking war!?"

Hearing this, Aang backed up slightly, blinking.

"Yeah, I did my homework," Al continued. "If you want to forgive him, that's your problem. But I get to make the call now, and this asshole has been living on borrowed time for long enough…"

"I asked you to spare him, not forgive him. If you end his life here, he won't be able to answer for his crimes."

"Oh, he will, trust me. Once I'm done with him, there'll be hell to pay…"

"But that won't be justice."

"Tell that to the dead."

"The living are not done with him yet…"

There was silence.

A deep stillness settled as Al considered the Avatar's words.

Only a flick his wrist, and the sorry excuse of a warmonger would cease to exist.

But he couldn't move…

He'll never admit it, but something in Aang's beliefs resonated with him. Maybe putting the prince in a coffin early would be doing him a favor. Whatever God or demons the people of this Earth worshipped, they probably weren't the same he knew.

Do they know? How could they? They are young, naïve, far too innocent for their own good, despite the war they supposedly live in.

"Fuck…"

If he wanted to convince them that he wasn't a monster, finishing the prince here surely wouldn't help his case.

Therefore, Al refrained from serving justice. For now, at least…

"Hey, old man! Catch!"

Out of the blue, he waved his arm and effortlessly tossed the prince across the cave, who landed beside the old man with a 'thud'.

"Keep it on a tighter leash. Or next time, you'll be receiving it in pieces…"

Zuko quickly rose, then tried to counterattack, but the old man restrained him.

"Zuko, it's time we talked," he told calmly to the prince before turning forward. "Go help your other friends, we'll catch up with you."

Al endured speechless. He only gave the elder a silent nod, ignoring the Fire Nation prince's empty threats.

"I knew you'd do the right thing," Aang approached him from behind, smiling. "Thanks."

At that point, his pronounced frown had vanished, and Al just released a low hum of respect.

"So, what now?" he asked.

"We have to find Toph and Sokka," Aang replied. "They must be somewhere in these catacombs."

"Then let's get moving, I'll follow your lead."

Aang's expression shifted to a serious scowl. Promptly, he started sprinting towards a crevice in the nearby walls of the crypt. Both Al and Katara immediately followed his lead.

Echoes of their hurried footsteps, along water droplets, were their sole guidance amid the infinite obscurity seizing the passage.

Eventually, a small light appeared, which got increasingly bigger and brighter as they kept running.

In time, the darkness receded, giving place to a grander cavern, one that greatly dwarfed their previous enclosure.

Enormous columns and stalactites hung from the ceiling, most likely held the crypt together. Throughout the terrain, several more tunnels pierced the stone, their destination a mystery. It almost resembled a hive of sorts, lit by a thousand, glowing crystals spread across the panorama.

"Great," Al said while gazing into the vast labyrinth carved in the rock. "I guess you don't happen to have a map, do you?"

Aang and Katara exchanged puzzled looks prior to shaking their heads at unison.

"Hmph, of course… Listen up, then. Our best chance is to-"

Another thunderous quake interrupted Al.

Without delay, the group's attentiveness redirected towards a dust-cloud fuming off a distant rift.

Later, infamous silhouettes abandoned the undulating mist. The sleek, rigid figures from the loyal dogs of the Earth Kingdom.

"It's the Dai Li!" Katara exclaimed.

Al counted three of them, just enough to stir trouble where there was none. And plenty so he could have his revenge…

"Go…" he growled. "I'll handle this…"

"W-Wait, are you sure?" Aang turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll catch up with you when I'm done here. I've got a score to settle with these fuckers…"

"Please be careful," Katara said concerned. "Aang, let's go."

She then headed for a different cave in the vicinity. At first, the young Avatar treaded on her heels, but before leaving the scene, he froze and glanced back at Al.

"I-I think I already know the answer to this," he spoke, seeming somber in his delivery. "But could you please refrain from killing more people?"

"I won't make a promise I cannot keep…" Al answered, keeping his stare fixed on the front.

A heavy sigh escaped Aang's lips. Yet, in due course, he spun anew and crossed the umbral.

Once alone, Al mentally prepared for battle, his pulse quickening. He relaxed his muscles, relinquishing control to the shroud.

The cape billowed, the chains extended, snaked in the air around him as the hellish energy coursed freely through his veins.

"Alright, Al… Time to be the monster…"

Allowing the shroud to carry him heavenward, he became one with the shadows…


A/N: There are those who said this day would never come.

What have they to say now?

In all seriousness, thank you so much for reading, I'm fully aware that this update was long overdue. 2021 was a time of learning and struggle for me, inside and outside the keyboard.

Since things are looking up again, I have regained my motivation to keep nurturing all of my creative projects. This story is not abandoned, it never was, and never will be.

Though I must say that the next chapter will be the final one to wrap up the whole thing. All the pieces have fallen into place and I'm really happy with how the story turned out, as well as the incredible support it has received from you, the amazing readers that made this possible.

For one last time, I ask you to be patient, so I can give you and this story the sublime closure it deserves.

Until then, I hope you enjoyed this humble piece of my writing, and may your 2022 be full of fortune and happiness alongside all your loved ones.

Excelsior!