Chapter 21: Falling Apart

It took some time for all those present at the Battle of Fort Ganhwa to recover, but as soon as they were on their feet again, they returned to Republic City. They all had quite a bit to attend to.

The first to step off the train and into action was the one who should have been still resting. Sen stepped down from the train car and lurched forward unsteadily, his injured legs lumbering forward with dogged determination. There were no cheers to celebrate his return. An uneasy chill crept over all who had come to watch the return of their soldiers, and they parted ways for him.

He paid the crowd no mind, staring forward with fiery eyes at an unknown destination. As he stalked an unseen prey deeper into the building, soldiers of all stripes began to pour out after him. The surviving soldiers threw themselves into the waiting arms of their friends and loved ones and celebrated their long-overdue reunion.

Few present moved quite as fast as Suda. Tracking down Yoki with an almost supernatural speed, Suda lumbered forward and took her, all too gently, in his arms, kissing her deeply. He released her just as fast, lightly resting his hands on her hips, just below her stomach. Yoki took the hint.

"I guess Ada told you, huh?"

"Yeah, she did, sorry," Suda said. "Kind of a little bit saved my life, though, so, hope you're not too mad."

"Oh, no, it's probably better this way, I'm really not that great with words," Yoki chuckled awkwardly. "But, umm, yes…this is happening. We are going to be parents. I take it you're pretty excited."

Suda answered that by kissing her again. Yoki had her fears and doubts about parenthood, but they were all pushed away by the overwhelming love that Suda radiated. She smiled warmly at his touch. The father was not completely without doubts of his own, though, and he pulled away, beginning to think out loud.

"What's the first thing I have to do, I mean, we should probably move to your place in the Fire Nation, if you want, we could probably get a house somewhere else, where's the best place to raise a kid right now? It's probably the Republic, should we get a house-"

"Suda," Yoki said firmly. She reached up and grabbed his face. "I'm fine. It'll be a few months before anything happens, and I have plenty of people to take care of me. All you need to do is keep being a hero."

"I think I can do that," Suda said. It was only going to get easier from now on, especially now that he was less worried about getting hurt. He had an indestructible shield now, after all. What could possibly hurt him?

Whistler answered that by whacking him on the back of the head.

"Come on, lovebird," Whistler scolded. "We've got an important war meeting to go to, remember?"

Whistler's scolding scowl dropped off her face as she turned to Yoki and smiled brightly.

"Congratulations," She said warmly. Yoki seemed oddly disturbed by the display of entirely legitimate affection from Whistler. Even Whistler wasn't mean enough to hate babies, though.

Suda lumbered forward reluctantly as he walked towards the meeting room. Gradually, the seven members of Team Avatar came together. They were given a wide berth as they walked through the railway depot. The only slight hesitation in their procession came as they passed another unloading railway car. This one bore no honored heroes of the past battle. This one carried one of its worst villains.

Thick chains rattled as Kida was led outwards, towards a waiting supermax security cell. Ariak hesitated a moment to look at her from afar. She was locked in enough chains to hold a badgermole in place, and yet none of them seemed necessary. She moved limply, practically being dragged by the guards that escorted her. She stared blankly at nothing in particular, unmoving.

Ariak's pause lasted only a second as Sen pulled at him, calling him back to attention. They proceeded onwards.

"You've spent enough time worry about her already," Sen said harshly. He disguised his words, but it was clear to all that when he said "spent" he really meant "wasted".

"She's hurt," Ariak said defensively. "Whatever you may think of her, she deserves at least some pity."

"No amount of pity excuses anything she's done," Sen said.

"She lost the people she loved," Ariak said. "People have extreme reactions-"

"I thought I lost someone I cared about once," Sen said. Hanjo looked at the ground. "I managed to get through it without causing hundreds of deaths."

Ariak looked away. Miyani stepped up.

"It doesn't matter. Ariak was right, and Kida's not a threat any more. There's no point in arguing about her now."

"She's an unpleasant memory now, as she should be," Ada said.

"Unpleasant things are worth remembering, sometimes," Hanjo said. "They remind you how you should act in the future. Teach you that even someone like Kida can be worth saving."

"Or teach you the price of not stopping them in time," Sen said bitterly.

"Do you have something to say, Sen?" Ariak questioned. Sen was barely hiding his contempt for Kida, and perhaps even Ariak.

"Ask Yakkul," Sen growled.

A chilling quiet descended on them all, and Sen's point became abundantly clear. The bloodbenders, Kida's students, had been the only reason the battle at Fort Ganhwa had been so devastating. Their dark power had made the battle possible. Without their bloodbending tipping the scales, the Coalition might have had an easy victory –and many of their allies might still be alive.

"You can just as easily blame Temujin for breaking the cliff, Sarin for starting the battle, Dei Sensheng for planning the whole thing," Hanjo said angrily. He wasn't going to stand by and let Sen place blame solely on Kida and Ariak's feud. "Nothing that happened is any one person's fault."

"Yes, it is," Sen retaliated. "Kida was a problem on her own, but this all comes back to Sarin."

Hanjo rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. This was going to be the end of that discussion. They could see the bloodthirsty twitch in Sen's eyes whenever he talked about Sarin. Sen's ability to think coherently stopped where Sarin's existence began. They continued onwards in silence, Sen's anger oppressing any desire to converse.

"He was an incorrigible old jerk," Dahaka said morosely. "But he had a good heart, and he did right by the world."

"Someone had to make the tough calls," Chief Kesuk sighed. "Many of us could only afford to be so moderate because Goto was willing to be extreme."

The gathered leaders of the world nodded and raised their drinks in a toast to their fallen friend. The untimely passing of Fire Lord Goto would be creating shockwaves across the world soon enough. For now his fellow leaders took a moment to pay tribute to a lost comrade. Despite their frequent disagreements, all here had considered him a dear friend and ally.

They would all give proper eulogies days from now at his state funeral. For now their mourning was cut short by the sudden and loud arrival of their newest guest.

The Avatar bashed open the door with all the subtlety of a platypus-bear, interrupting the reverent mood. He paused briefly; the act of opening the door stressed one of his injuries. After a second of recovery he lurched forward and sat down while his teammates waited behind him.

"You're up and about very quickly, given what Tlun said of your injuries," Chief Kesuk stated.

"I'm fine," Sen said. Kesuk raised an eyebrow. Sen was visibly anything but fine. He was wearing more bandages than clothing. Even the little bit of his skin that was exposed was clearly marked with bruises, abrasions, and cuts.

Even Sen knew he wasn't in good shape. He was keeping himself together with determination and just a touch of Energybending-enhanced healing. Kalden's journals had been quite illuminating on using the lost art to heal. One had to wonder why he hadn't used the power to heal himself.

"I'm not entirely sure you should be here," Chieftain Atana observed. "Perhaps resting would be better for you."

"The entire world, myself included, will sleep more soundly when Sarin is dealt with," Sen said firmly. "Until then, I don't stop."

The two chieftains of the water tribe shared a concerned glance. All the world leaders shared a similar feeling. Sen was a few blows away from falling apart.

"Did you have something to say?" Sen asked. "I assume I was summoned for a reason."

"Well, yes," Dahaka said. "We wanted to discuss the situation. The recent battle changes some things, obviously."

"With Sarin having lost so much, we'd like to begin de-escalating our military efforts," Chief Kesuk said. "The Fire Nation especially."

Kesuk nodded to Colonel Kujo, who was currently standing in for the Fire Nation leadership. Mika, obviously, was in no condition to discuss business so soon after the loss of her father.

"It's going to be a difficult transition of power," Kujo explained. "I'm reluctant to leave this war unfinished, but we have to think about the security of our nation."

Sen nodded. The Fire Nation had already been facing internal pressure to end the monarchy. As grim as it was, the anti-monarchist faction might see Goto's death as an opportunity. There would no doubt be protests or even open revolts.

"We're looking to shift our priorities," Dahaka elaborated. "After so many losses to his forces, his helicopters and bloodbenders especially, we no longer believe Sarin poses an active threat to the world."

That statement drew a very dark glare from Sen, and Dahaka hesitated nervously, but the Avatar said nothing. Dahaka gathered his wits and continued.

"Obviously, there would be a task force committed to continuing the hunt for Sarin, but most of our troops would-"

"All of them," Sen said, suddenly interrupting the president. "You can withdraw all of them so far as I'm concerned."

Sen leaned back and idly waved a hand over his shoulder, gesturing to his six teammates.

"The only task force I need is standing behind me. Sarin's working with table scraps, not an army. We can handle him."

The gathered world leaders nodded in affirmation. It was relieving to have Sen endorse their idea so readily. They had expected him to apply the entire weight of his armies to Sarin's destruction, given his recent behavior. They all wanted Sarin stopped, but there was such a thing as unnecessary force.

"I may also need Detective Zas and some other members of my intelligence network, naturally," Sen elaborated. "There's still the matter of finding Sarin."

"It may not be as hard as you think," Dahaka corrected. "Lieutenant Ahn-Li surrendered to our custody after the battle."

Sen nodded approvingly. The Lieutenant would no doubt hold a wealth of information about the highest level of Sarin's operation.

"I'll go see her in prison after our meeting ends," Sen said.

"She's not in prison. She's here, as a guest of state."

Sen's posture shifted noticeably, and Dahaka twitched nervously. The eyes of the Avatar burned down in a judgmental glare at the president of the United Republic.

"Why exactly is a war criminal a guest of honor in the capital of the United Republic?"

It was more of an accusation than a question, and they all knew it.

"She's hardly a guest, she's under armed guard and-"

"The point stands, mister President," Sen said, his voice dripping with hostility. "The Lieutenant had a hand in every major conflict of this war. Why is one of our worst enemies subject to any kind of preferential treatment?"

"Because she surrendered voluntarily, for one," Dahaka shot back. He was not entirely cowed by Sen's aggression. Only mostly. "And because I served with her during the Seventh Kingdom War. I know she's guilty, Avatar, but you have to understand what she saw, the trauma she-"

Sen stood up, taking them all by surprise, and slammed his fist down on the table.

"When did hurt feelings become an excuse for murder?"

Ariak stepped forward to rein Sen in, but that seemed to be the extent of his outburst. The Avatar clutched his side, nursing an aggravated injury, and slumped back into his seat. He breathed heavily. Even that small tantrum had been an exhausting outburst in his condition.

"We already have Temujin en route to maximum security. Why do we treat the woman who gave him orders any different?"

There was an awkward pause. The gathered world leaders turned to Dahaka slowly.

"The Avatar does have a point," Chief Kesuk admitted. "We can hardly discount Ahn-Li's crimes just because of her past."

"I'm not just going to throw her to the dogs," Dahaka said stubbornly. "She has every intention of cooperating and helping us. Surely that counts for something."

"That depends on how useful she is," Sen said grimly. He stood up and wobbled slightly as he did so. "You can continue your discussions on the Coalition without me. I'll abide by whatever decisions you make, so long as my provisions are kept."

Chief Kesuk nodded. Most of the people Sen was asking for would help him regardless of any choices the Coalition made. It wouldn't be hard for them to leave the Avatar with a token force of intelligence officers and supplies. There was no longer any need for a massive force. The conflict had ceased to be a war and had become a manhunt for the Energybender.

With that hunt occupying the entirety of his mind, the Avatar dismissed himself and followed the long halls towards the all-too comfortable room where Ahn-Li was waiting. He limped slightly as he moved. Suda bit his tongue. He wanted to offer some kind of help, but he knew Sen would reject it outright. His anger drove him to ignore his injuries, and wander off without any of his friends in tow.

"That went far better than I was expecting," Kesuk said nervously.

"Yes, the Avatar was surprisingly reasonable," Atana agreed. Ada glanced sideways at the two of them.

"Are you…scared? Of Sen?"

"Scared is definitely the wrong word," Kesuk said defensively. "But the Avatar is beginning to take actions we can't support. It is true that we wanted to downsize the Coalition-"

"But they also wanted Sen's hands off the reins of the military," Kujo snorted. Apparently he didn't approve. "Just in case he 'went too far'."

"Do you actually believe that Sen's a threat?" Suda asked incredulously.

"Of course not," Kesuk countered. "The Avatar is still acting in the best interests of the people, but you must know leaders with good intentions do not always produce good results. Isn't that right, Ariak?"

Ariak scowled. Of course Kesuk would bring that up.

"Sen is not my father," He retorted. It was a statement that became less and less true every day.

"The Avatar may have every intention of saving us," Chieftain Atana continued. "But his actions are going down a path we cannot follow. We hope you understand our position on this matter."

"And that if, not when, if, Sen should cross a line," Dahaka elaborated, stressing the hypothetical nature of this statement. "You will be there to stop him."

Sen slammed the door to Ahn-Li's "cell" open even more violently than he had the meeting rooms. He took a look around at the accommodations and sneered. An open and unguarded window let in a pleasant breeze. Ahn-Li wasn't even wearing handcuffs.

The Lieutenant took one look at Sen and cast her eyes downwards. She was sitting an empty table, staring at nothing. Sen walked over to her, noisily dragged a chair across the floor, and sat down across from her.

"Liuetenant," Sen said. "I'm not going to waste time on pleasantries you don't deserve. Tell me what I want to know."

"I'm sorry, Avatar, I-"

"I don't want your apologies," Sen interrupted. "I want Sarin."

Ahn-Li sobbed slightly and held out her hands pleadingly.

"Avatar, I know you must hate me-"

"I hold you personally responsible for the deaths of several of my friends," Sen said coldly. Ahn-Li froze. "Of course I hate you. The only reason I haven't expressed that hate is because you might help me find someone I hate even more."

Sen leaned forward and lowered his voice. Somehow the quieter tone only made him more frightening.

"Tell me where I can find Sarin."

He never said any real threats, but the sound of his voice made it quite clear that there would be consequences if Ahn-Li did not comply. The defector lieutenant wrung her hands nervously and tried to calm herself.

"I can't tell you where to find him, exactly," Ahn-Li admitted. She looked up at Sen to check his temperament. His truth-seeing abilities let him see that she was being honest, so he remained calm. He could tell she had more to say.

"There was a sort of 'panic room', a secure location we could retreat to in emergencies. It would be the only secure base we have left right now."

"But you can't tell me where it is," Sen said. Ahn-Li shook her head tensely.

"No, it was one of the things…After Gamon, they stopped trusting us all. They started to take things, memories from us."

Sen nodded. It made sense. Sarin had learned the hard way he couldn't trust his top brass after Gamon's attempted defection. He'd removed a chunk of the important information from their minds using the Hssk's power. It was a prudent decision given Ahn-Li's surrender.

"So why have a base that no one remembers where to find?" Sen wondered aloud.

"It's Sensheng. In an emergency we were all supposed to get in touch with Dei Sensheng, and he would tell us everything."

Sen rested his hand on his chin. That was an interesting lead.

"Dei Sensheng remembers things that you don't?"

"Always. He's Sarin's favorite. He decided what to make us forget, what was important for us to remember and what we could spare. Whatever it was Sarin was doing to erase our memories, Sensheng was a part of it."

Sen tapped his fingertips against the table in a slow, rolling motion. After a moment of contemplation, he leaned back in his chair. Dei Sensheng had conscious knowledge of the Hssk. Sarin must have chosen to reveal it to him. That was an opportunity Sen could not afford to pass up. With his memories intact, Sensheng would be the key to finding Sarin. But reaching Sensheng would be the first and hardest step.

"Sending a message to Dei Sensheng doesn't guarantee me anything," Sen said. "He's not certain or even likely to cooperate with me."

"Sensheng is no idiot, Avatar," Ahn-Li said. "By now he'll know there's no chance for victory. Offer him safety, and he'll take it."

Sen stared forward coldly. The last thing he wanted was to offer asylum to another of his enemies. They were already being far too forgiving to war criminals and killers.

"Tell me how to send the message," Sen demanded.

Sen had relayed his message to Sensheng in no uncertain terms. All he could do now was wait and hope that Dei Sensheng saw the same logic that Ahn-Li did. Sen was by no means patient in his wait for Sensheng's response, but he did at least have something to occupy his time.

The Avatar had left Republic City and his friends behind for now, limping into the mountains outside the massive city. Occasionally he was aided in his climb by Gun, but for the most part he proceeded in solitude.

A smooth, rocky outcropping just below the snowy peak provided what Sen was looking for. The noise and chaos of the city faded away here. Sen sat down and breathed in the cold mountain air.

Something had happened to him at the Battle of Fort Ganhwa. At a moment that could have meant his absolute victory, the end of the war and of Sarin, his power had faltered. The light in his eyes had faded and he'd lost the power of the Avatar State. That single loss of power had cost him his victory.

He needed to know why.

Sen closed his darkened eyes and focused on himself. He pushed the rest of the world away until all he could feel was his own heartbeat, his own breathing. The pain in his body tried to linger, tried to make him aware of every cut and bruise, but he pushed that away as well, until he was left isolated in his own mind.

That was all he found. Isolation. A void where the light of the Avatar was meant to be, where Korra should have been. He pushed ever deeper.

There was a connection still in his soul, but it was one-sided. He could feel the light of Raava in the distance but could not connect to it. A few flashing echoes of thought carried over to him. Chains, poison clinging to his veins, Korra staring at a wrathful image of herself.

Sen ignored the echoes of memory. He was not poisoned nor was he confused as Korra had once been. He knew exactly what he needed to do. The only question was whether he'd have the power to do it.

Despite the silence from the other end of his spiritual connection, Sen could still feel a call. A call that was just as dark and foreboding as the void that separated him from the light. A black tendril reaching out across the void, promising power and the destruction of his enemies.

Sen stood up and left all the darkness behind. He didn't need any of it. He didn't want any of it.

At the end of it all, the satisfaction of Sarin's defeat would be Sen's and Sen's alone. He would put an end to it all –with his bare hands if he had to.

"You find what you were looking for up on the mountain?" Suda asked.

"In a sense, yes," Sen said coldly. "Has there been any word back from Sesheng?"

"It's only been a couple hours, Sen," Hanjo said. "It'll be a while. Rest a bit. See Tlun. Maybe get yourself a new pair of glasses."

Sen had not bothered to replace his broken glasses after the Battle of Fort Ganhwa. He was more than capable of fighting without them at this point, and he had no desire to waste the time fetching a new pair.

"I'm going to be ready to move as soon as we get Sensheng's response," Sen said. "No more wasted time."

"Perhaps you should at least send Detective Zas out on the hunt," Ada suggested. "In case Sensheng doesn't respond at all."

"It's a good idea to keep your bases covered," Miyani said. "Maybe you should send me too. I'm pretty good at tailing the bad guys."

"I doubt there will be a trail to follow. It's not an army anymore, its a few scraps of men and broken wills. Sarin has nothing left. Sensheng and the Hssk are the only allies he has left in this world."

Sen felt a subtle chill gnaw the air as the mere mention of the Hssk clawed the thoughts from their minds. He sighed to himself. He couldn't help but mention the name aloud now and then, despite its uselessness. The conversation came to a pause as the mind-eater's power went to work, rending the minds of his allies from within. Miyani shook her head.

"Are you ever going to tell us anything about them? I think we deserve to know about our enemies, Sen."

"You already know everything about Sensheng, Miyani," Sen said. He was surprised to see her act so clueless.

"The other one. That Hssk guy you keep mentioning."

Sen froze for a moment, looked at Miyani, and then swiftly reconsidered who had been acting clueless. He placed his palm firmly upon his face and rested it there for a moment.

"Sen?"

Sen shook his head. "You could as easily give your friends an extra eye as show them the king of secrets." Warmth of the Witches of Winter had told him exactly what to look for, and he'd missed it completely. He sighed deeply at his own foolisheness.

"The third eye," Sen said, looking at the red mark on Miyani's forehead. "The Light chakra, the insight to pierce illusions."

"What are you even talking about, Sen?" Miyani asked.

"There's an evil thought-eating spirit that only you and me can see or remember," Sen said flatly. "It's a long story."

"I think that deserves some explanation," Miyani said, deeply confused.

Sen let the entire story unfold, from the first meeting in the Spirit World to the troubles that Hssk had been causing in the war. He even demonstrated the Hssk's mind-erasing powers by letting Miyani watch as all their other friends forget the story as it was told to them. Miyani's eyes narrowed as she watched them all stare blankly onwards as their memories were lost.

"So I guess that explains why I was always so good at tracking the bad guys down," Miyani said flatly. She was having a hard time digesting this very odd information.

"Something about your third eye must be able to dispel the Hssk's illusions for a short time," Sen said. They had tried re-interrogating soldiers Miyani had captured before, and found no results. Miyani acted like a torch in the darkness, whatever she revealed was lost again the moment she left.

The discussion paused briefly as Sen crossed his arms contemplatively. Miyani waited for him to continue the conversation: she was still a bit lost on her own, unsure of what to do next.

After some time to think, Sen knew exactly what would come next, and he smiled. Miyani felt some brief happiness at this, but it was quickly dispelled. She had been waiting a long time to see Sen smile again, but this was no smile of joy. It was a vicious smile, the bared fangs of a predator.

"If we could take Sarin by surprise, you might be able to keep him and the Hssk separated," Sen said. The mind-eater spirit did not keep itself permanently attached to Sarin. With Miyani facing the Hssk and Sen fighting Sarin, the two could be kept divided and, therefore, significantly weakened.

"Without the Hssk, Sarin won't be able to energybend without destroying himself," Sen said. "I'll crush him."

Miyani wanted to share in Sen's excitement, but there was a vicious edge to his words that made her hesitate. The way Sen's fists clenched as he spoke was just one of many signs of hatred boiling deep inside him. That tension and hatred rose in Sen for a moment before settling.

"But all we can do for now is wait," Sen muttered. His impatience was still evident. He grunted in frustration.

"I should have found this out earlier," Sen said angrily. "I missed such obvious signs."

"You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you'd been more focused on your friends than your enemies," Miyani said. There was just a slight hint of scolding to her voice.

Sen glared at Miyani, and she shrunk back. The Avatar shook his head dismissively and left without another word, leaving his confused friends behind.