Alternate chapter title: All Your Face Are Belong To Us.

The noise from the spectators was continuous, like that of the ocean or a raging storm. Mai and Ty Lee sat high in the stands of the flying colosseum - not that one could tell that it was flying from inside, save for the proximity of the clouds, but the trip up had involved an airship that, despite putting even the most advanced Fire Nation technology to shame, was apparently commonplace in these parts. Continuing this theme, the voices of the two announcers were amplified over the rumble of the crowd by some manner of mechanical witchcraft.

"Alright, it's now time to begin the randomization process for our next fight!"

And those screens that seemed to be composed of nothing but light. Naturally, Ty Lee was still marveling at it all while Mai had lost what little interest she had mustered up long ago, her thoughts dwelling more on how comfortable the red chairs of the lowest few rows looked compared to their simpler bleachers.

"It looks like our first contender is . . . Penny Polendina from Atlas!"

The sea of sound from the crowd briefly rose into a tidal wave.

"And her opponent will be . . . Pyrrha Nikos from Beacon!"

The second wave was quite a bit larger than the first. Ty Lee stood and cheered along with them while Mai checked her nails.

"This is going to be so exciting!" Ty Lee proclaimed as she plopped back down onto her seat. "Who do you think will win?"

Mai spared a glance down into the ring, but the distance made it hard to assess the two girls standing there. One was a redhead and one had actual red hair, rather than the redhead's orange. Of course there were countless audience members surrounding them who sported even stranger hair colors - apparently a feature of this world. As for the soon-to-be combatants, the orange-haired one, clad in a mix of white, gray, black, and green topped off with a pink bow, looked as though she shared Ty Lee's enthusiasm, whereas the red-haired, golden-armored girl, despite actually being armed, appeared uncertain about herself.

"If I have to pick," said Mai, "I'd say the one with the bow."

"Are you crazy?!" exclaimed the guy sitting next to Mai. "Pyrrha Nikos is a legend! She can't lose!" After his protest, he did a double-take toward Mai, slicked back his hair, and held out his hand for a shake. "Hey. I'm Chartreuse."

"I'm not interested."

"Mai, be nice!" said Ty Lee. She reached over Mai and shook the guy's hand. "She's Mai . . . I'm Ty Lee."

"Fighters, are you ready?" one of the announcer's voices interrupted.

There was little actual response from the fighters; the one with the bow nodded toward her opponent.

"They both have such strong auras," said Ty Lee. "I can't imagine either of them losing."

"I don't believe in auras," said Mai.

The Chartreuse guy did a third take at that. "You don't - what?"

"Three . . . two . . . one . . ."

"How can you - not - What?"

Mai ignored the guy's spluttering as the roar of the crowd rose again.

The announcer leaned forward in his booth. "Begin!"

Somehow, an army of swords sprouted into existence behind the innocent-looking girl with the bow, and in response to her bending-like hand movements, they began to snake through the air in complicated patterns, flying toward the other fighter after a few seconds of showing off.

"Maybe this will be interesting after all," said Mai.

Katara stood before an extensive field of cultivated sunflowers. Scanning the sea of yellow, she noticed a faint white light glinting off of a few specimens. Reservedly, she proceeded toward the glow, gently moving flowers out of her way.

Aang was in his lotus position, his hands balled up and pressed together. Katara lowered herself to her knees and sat back, absently removing the water from her pouch and transforming it into a block of ice for her to lean against. Slowly, she slid her hand over one of Aang's fists and unfolded it, entwining their fingers together. It was subtle, but Aang's muscles seemed to loosen at her touch, though he remained otherwise immobile.

The sunflowers swayed ever so slightly overhead as Katara peered upward through them.

The tree was just as Aang remembered it. Gnarled, leafless branches veiled in smog. At the bottom, a hole leading underneath the roots. The earth was carved into a stairway, but visibility faded a short way down. Of course, inside, there would be some light. Just enough to see one another's faces clearly.

Aang breathed deeply, despite not being physically present. "Done this before," he muttered to himself. "Done this before . . ." He had been rather concerned about the task before him given what he had seen in that village, but for some reason he was suddenly feeling soothed.

He descended the stairs into the lair of Koh the Face Stealer.

Expectably, the spirit was initially hidden in the shadows. Aang walked to the center of the cave and stood silently, waiting for the reveal. The clicking of the centipede's legs and segmented body was just barely audible, but it was everywhere, making it impossible to predict where Koh's first face would appear. Breaking tradition, however, the spirit sunk slowly into view directly in front of the Avatar. He wore his Noh face, and on it, a smile.

"Well, well," the spirit said. "The Avatar. You've returned once more." His voice was at once suave and rumbling.

"Hello, Koh." Aang spoke flatly - it was not necessary for his tone to lack emotion, but it helped him concentrate.

Koh's body, dangling once again from the large central stalactite, slithered around the Avatar. The whole experience was a repeat of their first encounter. "Your world must be a dangerous place if you're visiting me again."

"Actually . . ." said Aang carefully. "I wanted to ask you about a different world."

"A different world," said Koh. His two eyelid-like membranes flicked closed and open again, and he showed an unfamiliar female face. "I take it you don't mean this one?"

"It's called Remnant," Aang said, and hardening his features he turned to see if Koh would react to the name. The woman's face was as blank as Aang's. "Avatar Kuruk -" at that name Koh switched to his blue oni face - "said you might have a face from that world. The face of . . . a Grimm."

After a short pause, Koh revealed the unmistakable mask of a Beowolf. "You mean this face?" he asked, clearly knowing the answer.

The glowing red eyes bored into Aang's soul, but he continued dully. "Yes. How much do you know about the Grimm? Can you tell me what they are?"

The front of Koh's body rose toward the ceiling. "I know more than you, I'm sure. But, little Avatar, here's the problem." The spirit crawled around the wall of his lair and settled entirely on the floor, looking at Aang with the visage of a gray-haired man. "Last time we spoke, I left empty-handed, so to speak. So, child . . ." The face of a boarcupine lunged out, stopping an inch from Aang's nose. "I'll tell you what I know - for a price."

"Um . . ." Aang focused on the boar's eyes. "I kind of need my face."

"Oh, of course you do," said a wrinkled old woman's features as they drifted away from the Avatar's. "But surely you can offer me something?"

"Well . . ." It was difficult for Aang to think while maintaining his composure. "I don't really have any spare faces lying around . . ."

"Hmmmm," droned the Noh mask. "Then what are we to do?"

Aang was silent for a while as the centipede body undulated around him. Finally, he decided to play the one card that he had. "Uh, did you know I met your mother?"

The blue ogre was back at his nose in an instant. "What?!"

"The Mother of Faces," said Aang cautiously. "She said you were her son."

Koh scuttled about the walls again. Stopping, but not looking toward Aang, he said, "I tire of your presence, Avatar! Leave!"

Aang stood firm. "I'm not going anywhere until I find out about the Grimm."

Koh rushed at him again, and the face he sported had the same third-eye tattoo on its forehead as the mysterious assassin whom Sokka had dubbed Combustion Man. "Then I'll make you!" the spirit roared. Aang somehow doubted that Koh would have inherited the unique firebending powers associated with the tattoo merely by stealing the bender's face, but that was clearly the implied threat.

The Avatar stared at the tattoo for a moment before responding. "Go ahead, blast my face off. I'll find your mother, get a new one, maybe bring her back here . . ."

Koh returned to his oni face and his angry scuttling. "Humans . . ." the spirit fumed. "It's no wonder the Grimm slaughter you."

"So you do know about them."

The centipede spoke while circling Aang from above. "I can't give you the peace you seek. The Grimm are your antithesis. The only way the two of you can interact is annihilation." The Noh mask came back out as Koh settled, glaring down at the Avatar. "Humans take from around them and leave the world in ruin. The Grimm leave all but their victims untouched in their crusade against you." The mask smirked briefly. "I would call that balance."

"But why do they kill us?"

"It's not about why," a spider-like face answered, then looked away. "You're not like most humans. You want to preserve all life." The compliment caught Aang off guard, but his momentary falter of expression only gave Koh time to snap toward him slightly before it was corrected. The spirit went on, "So you want me to tell you that they don't count. That it's okay to kill them. That it's not really killing."

After a pause, Aang said sadly, "They don't have souls . . ."

"Undoubtedly they are strange things," said what appeared to be a woman with batlike ears on her head. "But this is a waste of time. You're seeking moral guidance -" the original Noh face descended before him - "from a thief." An old man with a long beard blinked out. "You are the keeper of balance. Look below the surface, Avatar - you've known what you must do all along." Slowly, Koh turned away again.

"I just want to know . . ." Aang's head drooped slightly, and in a moment of self-pity, he allowed his face to fall as a tear ran down his spiritual cheek. "If I'll be able to live with myself afterward."

The Noh mask swept in to meet his eyes, but Aang's frown remained in his possession. The spirit stared at the Avatar silently for a very, very long time, his whole body completely immobile.

When Koh finally lifted himself out of view again, Aang wiped his tears away and reorganized his blank expression, though his face should have been truly blank at that point. Unable to fathom the spirit's inaction, Aang merely waited.

Wearing the Beowolf's visage once more, Koh said, seemingly out of nowhere, "Just as there are four elements, there are four worlds. Your mortal world is the world of earth, and so have you named it. You have endured eons of hardships, but still you stand strong. Your - new friends hail from the world of fire. There, powerful lights burn brightly, only to eventually flicker and die, leaving darkness to thrive in the void. This Spirit World is the world of air. Here, we are free from physical bonds, and all things are fluid."

When the centipede did not continue, Aang prompted, "So the world of water is . . . ?"

The Noh mask looked at him. "Water is the element of change. Despite what most spirits will tell you, change is not inherently negative. It is, however, violent." The ogre popped out again. "Change will always be resisted, and without someone to keep balance, this struggle can become too much for a world to bear."

The Avatar considered this as Koh's blue-nosed monkey face was displayed. "Is that where the Grimm come from? A broken world?"

"Yet again, you ask the wrong questions. As we prattle away, the world of fire is slowly burning itself to cinders. And now, it seems your world has caught fire." The Grimm mask returned.

Aang breathed deeply through his nose, then asked quietly, "What are they?"

"They are," said Koh simply. "They are life, but death. Material, but void. Hatred, but numbness. The beginning, and the end." The spirit switched to his owl-like face. "Wan Shi Tong believes them to be embodiments of nothingness - remnants of the void that was filled when the worlds came to be. But even He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things can be a little . . ." He looked off to the side. "Well, stupid."

The centipede moved back down to Aang's eye level and yet again donned the Beowolf. "Do you know how I acquired this face?" he asked quietly. "My mother made it for me."

"You mean - you didn't steal it from - ?"

"The Grimm are agents of anonymity. I cannot take from them. They may snap and snarl, but inside they feel nothing. Even in death." The Noh mask. "It's not my place to tell you right from wrong. But, young Avatar . . ." The spirit retreated entirely into the darkness at the top of his cave. "I would prefer a world full of faces that I can steal."

As the white light faded from Aang's eyes, he once again saw the stems of the sunflowers - but he also felt someone's hand clenching his own. He knew who it was without needing to look.

"Did -" Katara's voice broke, so she cleared her throat and started again. "Did you talk to Avatar Roku?"

"I went to see Koh," Aang said in a monotone.

Katara was surprised at this. "That thing that steals faces?"

"Avatar Kuruk thought he might know something about the Grimm."

She squeezed his hand harder. "Did he?"

"Sort of . . ."

A light breeze danced by, stopping briefly to play with Katara's hair loopies. She and Aang sat in silence for a while, and nothing more chose to disturb them.

Aang sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter what they are. All that matters is what they do. They won't stop, and unlike Ozai they don't have a soul I can bend."

Katara leaned her head against his. "It's all so . . . strange. It's like a nightmare, but I've never felt more awake." Simultaneously, they embraced. "But Aang, I want you to know . . . No matter what happens, no matter what you have to do, I'll always love you, and you know why?" Finally they turned their heads to look into each other's eyes. "Because even if you're forced to do something horrible, you're doing it for the right reason. That's why it's so hard for you to be the Avatar - and why you're so good at it."

It was unclear which of them teared up first, but they both had to close their eyes to stem the worst of it, and they made an unspoken decision to lean their foreheads together for mutual support.

"I can't say the same about myself," said Katara darkly. "When I saw Hope there . . . I wanted to take up her blood and use it to rip every last one of them to shreds." She raised her head, rolling Aang's up as well, and as their noses touched, their eyes reopened, the tears flowing freely. "But then I . . . I saw myself, doing that, and - I saw her there, watching me . . ." She looked away, and Aang pulled her into a tight hug. She sobbed into his shoulder a few times, but eventually lifted her head back up and continued. "We have to - end them, but - it's not for revenge."

"No," Aang said, gripping her with all his strength. "It's not for revenge. Revenge spreads like a plague. I just want the violence to stop."

"Me too . . ."

They both let their feelings crescendo, safe in one another's arms. As their tears seeped into the ground to be absorbed by the roots of the sunflowers, a hummingsquirrel appeared overhead, hovering before one of the flowers to gather seeds. When its cheeks were bulging with its bounty, it darted out of view.

Still leaning against her, Aang said, "We'll get through this, Katara. They might be gone, but they taught me not to abandon hope." He pulled back and held Katara's cheek with his hand in order to look her in the eyes again. "The best way to honor their memory is to live by that lesson."

Zuko knelt before the Earth Kingdom boy's grave, carefully using the inscribed sword to copy its adage onto the headstone. He still had yet to locate the blade's counterpart. Behind him, Toph worked with equal melancholy, opening more holes in the earth and - filling them.

When the Fire Lord finished carving the final character, he sheathed the sword in his belt and sighed, closing his eyes. A single rose petal drifted by carried on the wind, and then, his voice hoarse, Zuko began to sing.

"Leaves from the vine . . . Falling so slow . . ."

Toph froze, listening.

"Like fragile . . . tiny shells . . . Drifting in the foam . . ."

Zuko wiped the tears from his face, but they were immediately replaced.

"Little soldier boy . . . Come marching home . . ."

Aang and Katara approached quietly from the direction of the sunflower field, and stood next to Toph when they arrived.

"Brave soldier boy . . ." Zuko concluded. "Comes marching . . . home . . ."

The world seemed to pause in reverence, and even when Sokka emerged from the village proper, he merely joined Aang, Katara, and Toph in standing silently. Finally, Zuko rose to his feet, turned to find the group watching him somberly, and walked up to them as well, drying his eyes on his sleeve.

"So . . ." said Sokka hollowly. "What do we do now, Aang?"

Zuko looked to the Avatar along with everyone else, and was once again reminded of how young the boy was. But Aang's answer reminded him that he was still probably the wisest man whom Zuko knew, next to Uncle Iroh.

Looking off into the horizon, Aang said, "We keep moving forward."