Note: This story is retroactively being updated and condensed to fix pacing issues. As such, the following chapter contains what used to be the original second and third chapters; other slight changes and adjustments have been made to the text to bring it within context of later chapters.

It was close to evening when Korra approached the Future Industries warehouse. The sun was beginning to set over the distant mountains, past the bright green beam puncturing its way into the heavens. The wind had significantly picked up since that morning, blowing away stray, multi-colored leaves and loose scraps of paper someone had emptied near the dock.

Korra never visited the warehouse all that often, for there was nothing there for her to see. She knew nothing of industry or economics, crafting or constructing, smelting or welding. Being the Avatar required a keen respect towards nature, and the massive industrialization efforts taken by the modern world but a mild hamper on that aspect of her life. In fact, Korra rarely drove anywhere in her sleek black Satomobile that she acquired three years prior. The only reason she was driving it on this night was due to her special summoning by a highly-valued acquaintance.

Korra, being wise, knew not to miss out whenever Asami Sato called for her. It had been twenty-four days since she and the genius chief executive officer of Future Industries had seen each other, and exactly three days since Asami had returned to Republic City. When Korra initially heard of her friend's return, it was past midnight, and she was so horribly tired that it was impossible to sleep.

Jinora, who was also restless and wandering, informed Korra that Asami's airship had docked, resulting in the normally at-peace Avatar to spring around the room, throw on clothes, and nearly swim her way to the Sato Estate before Jinora forced her back into bed, using only the power of teenage rebellion to help her. The poor Avatar had to wait another day before making any sort of contact due to an important meeting with President Reiko, and even then, she was limited to a short, two-minute phone call, which was kept brief and restrictive thanks to the ever-looming presence of Tenzin waiting to use the phone afterwards. What that conversation consisted of was even worse for Korra, because Asami openly refused to see her until the next night, claiming to be working hard on an important project and unable to dedicate any free time until those specified hours.

Back in reality, Korra swerved to the right. Her reminiscing had caused her to lose sight of the road, and nearly plunge headfirst into the nearby harbor. Slamming hard on the brakes, Korra remembered why it was that she hated cars: she could barely drive. It wasn't that she was necessarily bad at driving, but she was trained for riding Naga, and having a mechanical beast that needs full physical input required too much concentration for her liking.

The sun glistened off of the dark blue water, casting its endless streams of light into the great beyond. The air was still, silent, as if all noise had been sucked out of the atmosphere in order to grant the scenery perfect harmony. Korra looked on at the factory building; it was big and brash, massive steel doors blocking its entrance, smoke towers funneling up into the clouds and a distinctive clanging and crashing that sounded foreign to Korra's ears. She took a deep breath of fresh air, put on a smile, and opened the door.

"Watch out!"

Korra dove to the ground as something, or someone, flew past her in a blur. It took her a moment to recover, and in that moment she spotted the forms of two mad engineers huddling together, strapped to some large, winged contraption that she found both amusing and terrifying. The sputtering machine slammed into the ground with a crash as Korra stood up, wincing as various pieces of metal flied in any and all directions.

"Darn it! I knew the extra turbine would displace the center of gravity. Whose bright idea was it to put that thing on it anyway?"

"Yours, darling."

"Well, why didn't you tell me that it was a horrible idea?"

Iknik Blackstone Varrick and Zhu Li Moon rose from the wreckage, mostly unscathed. The co-owners of Varrick Global Industries looked down upon the pummeled mass of metal with shame, showing almost no sign of shock from nearly being killed upon impact. Zhu Li only glanced over Varrick, quickly searching her lover for any signs of serious injury. Korra was unsure whether to feel pleased or sick to her stomach. Seeing Varrick at any time made Korra feel uneasy. Even after all of the years she had known him, his extravagant ways and lurking deceit about the slightest things made her highly uncomfortable. Zhu Li, she could tolerate, as the woman barely said anything except to keep her husband in line, an act that no one could complain about. Still, it did not make Korra feel any better, as she was supposed to be having a special meeting with Asami, and anytime Varrick was around, he would interject whenever it was worst to do so.

"What the heck was that?" Korra felt the need to ask.

"That was supposed to be our gateway to millions," Varrick responded arrogantly. The room they were in was full of hanging plane parts and chains and various walkways, leading to an upstairs office. However, the high chamber was filling up with a light smoke from the broken machine.

Korra looked quizzically at the hunk of scrap behind the inventors. "That flying death-machine is supposed to be your next big thing? You do know Airbenders already have wingsuits… and less dangerous ones than that."

"No, no, no—not the wingsuit," Varrick growled, furious that the weaker mind could not comprehend his brilliance. "This little beauty is going to revolutionize transportation as we know it."

"It's the engine that's important," Zhu Li stated. "We're testing new thrusting technology in a smaller size before ramping up production on a larger scale. If our theory is correct, we can make an engine capable of moving dozens of people at nearly five times faster than an average airship."

"Wow, that's quite an undertaking," said Korra. "Are you sure that's even possible?"

"We're testing the efficiency of the engine right now. But, we've run into some small problems—"

"The engine's fine!" Varrick insisted. "My designs are perfect. It's the proportions that are all off. It's impossible to keep the supporting chassis stable under such intense pressure from the engine. We need sturdier framework, which is something 'Miss Sato' hasn't provided us with."

Korra's heart skipped a beat, and she regained her focus on why she was there to begin with. "Speaking of Asami, she told me that I was supposed to meet her here. Is she around somewhere?"

"Asami's up in the office," Zhu Li explained. "She really only comes down to due quick maintenance, or—"

"What the heck was that!?" came an upsetting yell from above. Zhu Li sighed, and adjusted her glasses.

"—or when she needs to scream at us."

Korra spun around to face the noise from above. From the office above, a woman burst out and hung thrust herself against the railing. Her raven hair, light and fluffy, cascaded down her shoulders in a tangled, unkempt wad. Her pale features were caked with streaks of oil and ash, her muddy, maroon, ragged work uniform covered with the same. Her blood red lips were dragged up her face in an ugly scowl, and the translucent green pools of her eyes struck down with such confusion and agitation and guilt and loss that even when studied under the most incandescent and accepting of conditions, her fury would be unmistakable.

"Varrick," she said, her hands gripping the steel bar as if it was her ball and chain and she was a rabid animal waiting to lash out. "Did you just break our only prototype... again?"

Korra gulped nervously, Zhu Li shook her head in shame, and Varrick stomped his foot.

"Hey, it's not our fault you gave us a faulty wingsuit!" he retorted, accepting none of the blame.

Asami's brow furrowed. "I told you not to run any more tests on the thing until after the deal was over. It took me a month in order to perfect that wingsuit, and you just had to go and tamper with everything, like always."

"It wouldn't need tampering if your construction work wasn't so shoddy," Varrick stepped forward, shaking his fist. "If I need to fix your screwed-up framework, then I'm going to fix your screwed-up framework." He paused, looked away, and muttered under his breath, "Besides, it needed an extra kick for style."

Asami tightened her grip to such a degree that the metal nearly bent under her fingers. Her ability to speak coherently deserted her. "Why you… I can't believe… stupid little, incompetent piece of sh—"

Korra hurriedly shoved her way in front of Varrick, holding up her arms in peace. She loved her girlfriend; she truly did. The only consistent problem she had about Asami Sato was her over-commitment to her work, and on occasion, that included her rage whenever something went terribly, horribly wrong.

"Hey, can you calm down with the language?" Korra asked with an innocent, child-like smile. "I'm too young to be hearing things like this."

At once, the tension in Asami's face vanished replaced with the faintest hint of embarrassment. She moved across the walkway at a brisk pace, wiping the sweat and gook from her face. Of all the times she had failed to make herself presentable, it was now that Korra happened to barge in. Asami continued her steady breathing as she descended a flight of stairs, hoping that she did not look like as much of a disaster as she thought. Even though, that concept was ridiculous anyway; she doubted Korra cared about what she looked like, or at least, that was what she hoped.

The moment Asami's feet touched the floor, her motions became automatic, as she found herself practically running to the girl from the Water Tribe and pulling her into a tight hug. The gentle flow of Korra's breath on her neck slowed her heartrate, and she squeezed the Avatar's waist a bit tighter.

"It's really good to see you again," Asami said softly into her companion's ear. "I was planning on making things, you know, more romantic, but time got away from me. Things were running behind schedule, and technical problems kept popping up, and—"

"Don't worry about it," said the shorter woman, delivering a secret peck to the lobe of Asami's ear. "It's good to see you too."

If she could have remained in that embrace for eternity, Korra felt like she would have been satisfied with her life. Unfortunately, the two of them were not alone, and as much as Korra wanted to be with Asami at that moment, she had to keep her emotions in check. She made the hug last as long as she could manage, but after twenty seconds of sheer bliss, she painfully, remorsefully, mournfully released her hold on her girlfriend, feeling their shared warmth fade.

"So, this is what you wanted to show me?" asked the blue-eyed woman, crossing her arms over her chest. "I have to say, I didn't think you'd be so hyped up over air travel."

"What are you—oh no, this isn't why you're here," Asami corrected her. "Future Industries and Varrick Global Industries have entered a joint business venture to recapitalize on the transportation industry. After last year's disaster with magnetic lighting units, we need a boost in sales."

Korra nodded understandingly. If there was one thing that Asami care for more than her friends, it was her company. She remembered comforting Asami for an entire week after those faulty products shipped and nearly tanked the entire company. It was a massive hassle for both of them: Asami, because she had to deal with the lingering guilt of laying off nearly one hundred honest men, and Korra, because she had to make sure her girlfriend ate and slept and didn't work herself to death.

"If you wanted a boost in sales, you wouldn't build so poorly," Varrick said snidely. Asami opened her mouth to scream at him, but she was cut off.

"Darling, perhaps we shouldn't get emotional right now," Zhu Li calmly suggested. As always, her face was plain and expressionless. "We can rebuild it tomorrow. There's still plenty of time to get things worked out. Why don't we all take a break for now and regroup with clearer heads?"

"Yes, let's do that!" Korra agreed, tugging on Asami's arm. "Let's do something that doesn't involve anyone getting maimed."

Asami never stopped glaring at Varrick. "That's fine with me. Come up to my office. There's a passion project of mine that I wanted you to see."

By the time Korra was able to get Asami in motion, the moon had risen in the tranquil, black sky. It's soft luminescence cast through a large skylight above, painting the chamber a mellow blue. Korra followed the taller woman up several steps, around a bend, across a catwalk, and into the hanging office.

Unlike the rest of the workshop, the small office was relatively well lit. There was nothing much to it, but Asami liked it that way. She had barely any possessions that she needed with her on the off-chance that she would eventually need to work here. The actual manager of the building usually stayed downstairs to watch over his subordinates, leaving this one private room as her sole safe haven. Unlike the metal she often found below, it was gentle in the office, accepting even. Serenity, whenever it came over her, struck like lightning in the rain.

As it was now, the only material objects in the room were a solitary desk, three framed photographs of friends and family, and a silver, cylindrical machine only the size of Korra's hand. Asami walked over to the desk, smiling at the peace and quiet. Korra thought for a moment that she was about to tackle her, and that the passion project was really just an excuse made so they could make out against a rusted, dimly-lit metal wall. Instead, Asami picked up the small machine and gently tossed it the Avatar's way.

"Take a look at that," she instructed. Korra looked all over the tube, but saw nothing of particular interest, at least none that she understood. Then again, she was not a mechanic, and any time she would attempt to state something semi-factual about technology, she would always be kindly corrected.

"You know I have no idea what this is," Korra said knowingly. "Is this going to blow me up or something? Are you trying to take revenge for that time in Ba Sing Se last year? Because I already told you, I didn't know that the sweater would fall apart in the rain like that."

"No. I'm getting payback for that some other time," Asami teased, beckoning the shorter girl over to the desk. Korra handed the device over, and Asami rested it on the table. As the two women hunched over the wooden surface, the engineer flicked a small tab on the side of the cylinder.

And then, something brilliant happened. Korra watched in astonishment as the top of the machine flipped open, and into the open air burst dozens of delicate, beautiful, intricate, precious, bronze spheres of warmth and light. The particles swirled above her head in a swelling ritual of beauty, revolving around one another like a million dancing fireflies. The balls of light filled the room in their soft orange glow, and drawn in by their exquisiteness, Korra reached out to one, watching it float away and up to the ceiling before she could grasp it.

"I call them, 'Phosphorescent Particles'," said Asami, her gentle voice reaching Korra through the wonderment. "They're essentially atoms of lights that have been irradiated and enlarged thousands of times their size. Try to think of them a bit like tiny suns. It's only a prototype, and I can't get them to stabilize for more than a few hours, but I have to admit: it's really cool to look at."

Korra stared open-mouthed at the tiny suns before her. She didn't know why, but standing there, her best friend at her side, all alone with nothing else except the wondrous light caused by dozens of blazing spheres, she felt at ease, as if there was not a single negative thought in the world.

"This… this is amazing," was all that she could say. Asami blushed, and brushed the black hair out of her face.

"It's really not that big of a deal," she said shyly. "I mean, it's not even a major Future Industries production. I just kind of threw it together."

"What are you talking about?" Korra asked, turning to Asami as if she was a goddess pretending to be a mouse. "This is incredible. You're incredible. I don't even know what to say, or how this works, but you are just… perfect. You are perfect."

Asami stood in silence. She felt a tingling sensation run up her spine and through her heart. She opened her mouth to return the compliment. How could she not? The Avatar, the most powerful being in the world, just called her perfect. Yet, as she gazed over at her lover, the woman with bright blue eyes had already turned back to the lights, watching them in a rare calmness. Blissfully, Asami turned towards the lights as well. Perhaps it was better to say nothing at all.

The two stood next to each other for what seemed like an eternity, no one wanting to disrupt the glorious display. However, as a curious twinge came to Korra's mind, she forced her eyes away from the lights.

"So, what are you planning to do with this anyway?" she asked inquisitively. "Are you going to mass-produce them? Sell them as lighting fixtures? An entertainment source?"

Suddenly, the joy from Asami's face vanished, replaced with an expression that carried shock and painful embarrassment. The CEO of Future Industries let out a nervous laugh, and looked awkwardly at the desk.

"Oh… about that," she said slowly. "You see, the thing is… earlier, when I, uh, said that this was a… well, 'passion project'… I sort of meant that the passion was… supposed to be… you."

Asami looked back at Korra, smiling cautiously.

"Happy birthday."

Happy birthday. Those two selective words meant more to Korra than anyone would have realized. Fourteen days ago, Korra turned twenty-five years old. The knowledge of her age hit her like a ton of bricks. That day marked her being alive for a quarter of a century, and it both thrilled and frightened her. She had done so much in her brief existence, so much good to the world, and yet, even with all of the good she had done, all of the people she helped save, she couldn't help but feel that time was slipping away. She was no longer a brash teenager keen on seeing the world. She was an adult, an adult who had been through more conflict in a few years than most people did in their lives. Her birthday represented a celebration of all that she had done, but also a reminder of all that she had lost along that way. All Korra wanted on her birthday was to forget about everything, have fun, relax, enjoy what precious things she had.

And of course, the most precious thing she had was several hundred miles away, so caught up in her work that she barely got to call and give her wishes before the clock struck midnight.

Korra felt something moist in her eye. She quickly brushed it away, hoping that it would go unnoticed. It wasn't.

"I… I thought I told you not to get me anything," Korra stated, trying her best and filing to sound upset.

"Korra, I've known you for eight years," Asami said with a smirk. "When you say that you don't want something, it means that you want it more than anything else."

Korra smiled knowingly. She placed her hand on top of Asami's, squeezing it gently in her palm. Even when covered in grime and sweat, it fit perfectly in her grasp. "Is that true? In that case, I hate you. I really, really hate you."

"Wow, you were quick to jump in on that one," Asami teased. "Now I have to say something cheesy to top that."

"I don't think that's possible. I'm the Avatar. Everything I do is perfect."

"Except knowing how to shop in Ba Sing Se."

"Ugh, you're the worst!" Korra sighed, wrapping her arms around the fair-skinned girl. She placed a delicate series of kisses on the nape of her neck, and tightly gripped the rough fabric of her clothing. "Seriously though, thanks for the gift. It… it really means a lot to me."

"No problem. I'm sure you'd do the exact same thing."

Korra moaned in agreement. "You know, now that you're finally back in the city, and maybe if you aren't going to be doing too much work, we could get around to announcing… us."

A groan escaped Asami's lips. It seemed like every time they talked, Korra brought up the same uncomfortable topic. "I don't think now's a good time. My work is pretty hectic."

"Your work has been hectic for four years," Korra reminded her. "This is starting to get ridiculous. I want to actually be with you in public without having to awkwardly refrain from touching you. I'm actually beginning to think that you're ashamed of me."

"Don't be ridiculous. I could never be ashamed of you. It's just that… with all of the publicity and negative press and focus on it, it's better to keep it on the backburner for now, just until I get out of this financial crisis."

Korra frowned. "Okay, I guess. I just hope that you'll keep to your promise. We can't keep this hidden from the public forever."

Asami sighed lovingly, and pressed her forehead against Korra's, her green eyes staring deep into the Avatar's blue ones. Instantly, a sly smile retuned to Korra's somber face, and Asami looked at her seductively. "Look, let's not think about that tonight. Instead, let's think about you and me, late at night, downtown, bright lights, drinks, and the comfy backseat of my car."

"Mmm," Korra agreed, feeling the tension spike in the room. "I like the way you think, Miss Sato."

Their senses were hazy as the drew themselves inwards, and invisible force pushing their lips closer, their hands tighter on each other's body, their spirits and hearts as one.

And then, in the span of a second, the force disappeared as the door to the office burst open, and Varrick burst into the room with his arm thrust in the air as if ready to charge into war. The women quickly shoved themselves apart before the inventor had a chance to realize what was happening. Their faces were hot and red, burning like the dozens of micro suns illuminating the room.

"Sato, work's done for today," said Varrick, Zhu Li standing behind him with her head in her hands. "You and I are headed out for wild Republic City salmon to work out our plans for the next few days, and maybe if we're lucky, you can apologize for messing up the prototype."

Zhu Li cleared her throat.

"Or, maybe I can apologize or whatever," he added. "It doesn't matter! We're feasting now. Get your keister in gear and let's head out."

Asami wanted to say a great many things at that moment, but found it most wise to take a deep breath, collect her thoughts, and sigh accordingly.

"I guess that's what we're going to do then," she said with the slightest bit of contempt. She looked at Korra apologetically, but she was already receiving an understanding nod.

"Want to meet for breakfast tomorrow?" Korra suggested.

"Sure. I can stop by at around eight." With the meeting in place, Asami sorrowfully followed a clueless Varrick out of the office, and a deeply mortified Zhu Li closed the door behind them.

Just like that, Korra was alone with her thoughts again. Per usual, her meeting Asami was filled with electric highs and crushing disappointments. On the bright side, she got to actually see her, something that was become more and more of a rarity each passing month, and on top of that, she got a pretty spectacular birthday present. On the flip side, she was cut off by uninvited guests, and Asami continued to dodge that question. Korra could hardly blame her though. Ever since they began dating, the exact question of who they would tell about their relationship was a major issue, as they both realized that announcing the head of Future Industries was currently dating the Avatar would shift the public's view of them in any number of ways, all of them most likely leading to a basic invasion of privacy for the power couple. There were only a few people on the planet that they trusted with their relationship, and out of those twenty or so individuals, Varrick was not one any of them felt capable of entrusting secrets to.

Suddenly, the door opened back up, and Zhu Li's head popped into view.

"My husband wasn't interrupting anything, was he?" she asked, concerned.

"Well, actually—"

"Dammit," cursed the former assistant. "I'm going to have a long talk with him about barging in on people. Sorry about everything he does, and about dinner too. I hope you and Asami have a lovely time tomorrow."

With that, Zhu Li was gone, leaving Korra alone once again in the room with dozens of dancing sons. She couldn't help but smile at the loyal wife's kind remarks.

Varrick was not trustworthy in the slightest. Zhu Li, on the other hand, was very trustworthy.

The banker stood behind his desk in fear, sweat dripping from his furrowed brow. How could it have happened like this? It was going to be a wonderful day, for he had just learned of his wife's pregnancy that morning. He may have been plump and nearing fifty, but he never had a child before. It was an absolute miracle that his wife chose him ever everyone else.

Unfortunately, the beautiful life he sought to have was no at risk, as a knife was pressed against his thick neck.

"Can you just stop blubbering already?" asked the gang member with the crooked hat. "When I tell you to get the money, I expect you to give me the damn money."

"Yes, of course," replied the banker nervously. What were the odds that the bank would be robbed today? What made this day so special? What suddenly inspired three men of the Triple Threat Triads to burst into upper class territory and hold up an empty bank in the middle of the afternoon?

The banker, feeling the cool steel against his jugular, ultimately decided that the reasoning wasn't all that important if he died then and there. The vault was only several yards behind him, an iron gateway to over one million yuans. The banker's eyes dashed between the three men. The one holding a knife to his throat had a slack jaw, squinted eyes, and a dirty face. Another man with wavy hair and a thick, blue coat was propped up against a wall, meddling with a ball of water hovering just above his palm. A third, with a scraggily beard and sunken eyes, was keeping an eye on the doorway.

"You'll let me go once you get the money, won't you?" the banker asked, his voice quivering.

"I'll think about it," responded the Triad member. "Now hurry up. We're wasting daylight."

"No sign of trouble yet," said the man by the door. "It doesn't look like anyone called the cops."

"Good, let's keep it like that. Now, get the money, you old geezer."

"R-right away." The banker shuffled backwards, afraid that at any moment, they could change their minds and cut his throat like paper. His shaking hands grabbed the vault, and began rotating in a very specific pattern. His gaze shifted to the left, where two security guards had been knocked unconscious by a surprise attack. He wished he could have been like them: asleep. If only he could be away from the troubles of the world. If only he could go back home and see his wife again.

Then suddenly, from outside, in the heat of the afternoon, came the slamming of car doors, and the heavy stomping of feet in motion.

"Uh, Lee… we've got a problem," said the man by the door with wide eyes. Before Lee, the man with the cap, could ask what was going on, there came a screeching sound of a megaphone, and a collected voice vibrate through the air.

"This is the police. We have you surrounded. Release the hostages and surrender, and no harm will come to you."

Outside of the bank were four cops and two vehicles. While three of the policemen followed procedure, scanning for signs of duress, one particularly young cop—with a round jaw, short greasy hair, and large hazel eyes—huddled behind the car for protection, earning the ire of the young man standing next to him.

"Chen, what are you doing?" asked Police Detective Mako to his compatriot.

"What? I'm taking cover in case of an emergency," said the young cop, trying to put on a smile.

"Chen, nothing is happening yet," Mako scolded. "Cops can't show their fear to criminals. How are you supposed to earn respect like that?"

"When you put it that way, you make it sound like I'm a coward."

Chen, of course, knew he was a coward, but that didn't change the fact that he did not want to be called one. Chen was an honest, well-nurtured man eighteen years of age. Ever since he was young, he aspired to be part of the Republic City Police. Unfortunately for him, he never really had the necessary athletic capabilities required. He could metalbend, but wasn't proficient at it. He was somewhat knowledgeable, but wasn't anything special. He was well-motivated, but it was often misplaced towards food or pro-bending. He was admitted into the force due to his tenacity, but was given one condition; he had to be placed under the tutelage of one of the police's finest.

That, naturally, brought him to Mako, one of Chief Beifong's most trusted officers. When Mako was first instructed that he would receive a protégé last winter, he was very excited about it. He told all of his friends that he was going to serve as an inspiration and supervisor to a fresh, young mind. In fact, he never stopped talking about it, and in the two weeks leading up to his meeting of the student, he was actually happy. He was so happy that Korra once told him that he had completely lost his mind when he wouldn't stop smiling for an entire evening. The idea that Mako would help better someone's life—someone that had to be, at least, more tolerable than Wu—was very fulfilling.

Then, Mako met Chen, and basically everything went downhill from there. It wasn't that Mako hated his partner; far from it. It had simply been nearly eight months, and Chen's cluelessness and lack of progress was starting to become irritable.

As they were standing behind police cars on this cool summer day, Mako once again finding himself teaching in a place he shouldn't have been. It was not his intention to let Chen get involved with serious threats until the latter was much better prepared, but since they were one of the only squads in the area, they had to take the call.

"Chen, do you know hostage protocol?" Mako asked expectantly.

"Um…" Chen struggled to remember. "It's: secure every possible escape route. Isn't it?"

"Establish a line of communication," Mako begrudgingly corrected him. "We need to get talks going in order to make sure everyone remains calm and unharmed. Otherwise, the situation could get violent."

In a flash, Mako's face was stricken with panic, and he ducked behind the shelter of the car was a boulder sailed over his head and crashed into the concrete behind him.

"Or, we could just get right to exciting part."

One of the members of the Triad had burst through the door, and growled angrily. "I'm not going back to prison! I've got to get out of here!"

Without hesitating even a moment, the robber stomped the ground, sending more chunks of rocks flying in the directions of the police. The other cops—Officer Xiao and Officer Pomi—dove to the ground. Mako, however, adrenaline pumping through his blood, slid over the hood of his car, and blasted fire at the criminal. The earthbender dodged, but Mako managed to grab onto him, flipping him on his back.

Chen peered out behind cover, and seeing Mako victorious, he cheered. "Yeah! Take that criminal down!"

"Stay down, Chen," Mako ordered. "It's too—ugh!"

Mako was caught off-guard by a water blast to the stomach, causing him to double over. The other two crooks burst out of the bank, leaving the worried banker on his knees and shaking. The waterbender turned left, sprinting past the other officers, who began giving chase. However, the man with the crooked cap kept straight, leading him right back to the hunched-over Mako.

Yet, it was Chen who attacked first. He leapt out of cover, screaming like a warrior, recalling his training with his supervisor in order to vanquish his foe. Unfortunately, his sneak attack was unsuccessful; the crook simply sidestepped and tripped him the moment he got close.

"Stupid kid," the crook muttered under his breath, preparing to run. But then, before he could make his move, Mako tackled him from behind, pinning his arms against his back.

"Guys, I got mine!" he called to his fellow officers. As much as the Triad member struggled to free himself, he could not escape. Mako peered to his left. Off in the distance, he could make out faint shadows waving at him; the other man had been caught, brought down by the combined efforts of the officers' earthbending.

"You're under arrest," Mako said taking a deep breath to sooth his wounded stomach. "Chen, grab me the cuffs."

As the protégé hobbled his way back to the car, the plump banker emerged, waving a handkerchief in the air.

"Oh thank you, thank you!' cried the banker. "You saved my life!"

"It's no problem, sir," Mako assured him with a small smile. Chen returned, panting as he handed over the cuffs. Mako gave him a glare as he took the metal objects, signifying that something was upsetting him. More than likely, that would be Chen.

"How can I ever repay you? There must be some way I can show my gratitude."

"Staying safe would be pretty nice," Mako informed him. He secured the crook, who was sneering back at him. The robber's eyes were full of hate, and much to Mako's surprise, some fear as well. Chen escorted the criminal back to the car. The other two Triad members were being taken care of by Officers Xiao and Pomi.

"Maybe I can treat you to lunch," suggested the banker, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He spoke with such innocence that Mako almost felt bad for having to turn him down.

"Don't worry about it," he said, walking back to his vehicle. "Go back home to your family. Enjoy the evening."

"Oh I will, Mr. Policeman! I most definitely will!"

Mako entered the car with a jittering Chen and an upset gangster. With the crook properly secured, Mako began the drive back to police headquarters.

"That was so cool!" Chen said eagerly. "You were like a superhero out there."

"That's not important," Mako stated emotionlessly. "What's important is that a man's life was saved today."

"Obviously, that's important as well. But come on, Mako. You know you looked pretty slick out there. You can brag about it to me. I don't mind."

"No one's bragging about anything. How about instead, we talk about your performance?"

"I'd rather we didn't."

"You can't dodge this. Now, what's the first thing you did wrong?"

Chen groaned. This was something he had grown accustomed to: Mako complaining. It seemed like all he ever did was get yelled at by the senior officer. All he really wanted was a simple compliment, a thank-you, a solitary "good job". Given all that he had seen, Chen seriously began to doubt how Mako sustained a stable relationship with anybody.

"Was it hiding behind a car?"

"It was not listening to my orders," Mako reprimanded him. "Following the orders of your senior officer is one of the most important parts of the job. I told you to stay low, and you put yourself in harm's way regardless."

"Well, it's hard to think straight when you give such confusing instructions," Chen argued. "First you told me to not to hide behind the car, and then you scold me for not hiding behind the car! Make up your mind already."

"It's situational," Mako explained. "I'm just trying to make sure you don't get hurt. I'm your supervisor. I care about you, bro."

"Hey, can I interject for a moment?" asked the criminal with the crooked cap. "It looks like you both need to learn to listen to each other more. Mutual respect is very important."

"You don't get to talk," Mako said irritably. "What were you even doing in this part of the city anyway? This isn't Triad territory. Were you trying to move up in the criminal underworld?"

"No, I'm really innocent, I swear," the crook insisted. "See, I got this weird letter the other day saying that I had to rob this bank, or my entire family will be killed. I really had no other choice. In fact, I could be hunted for right as we speak."

"Wow, that's terrible," Chen said, feeling empathy for the thug. "I hope your family is alright."

Mako shook his head in shame. "He's lying. Don't believe everything you hear. That's another important rule of being a cop."

"You know," said the criminal. "I'm starting to take the kid's side on this one. I don't know how anyone could get along with you when you have that attitude, pal."

The rest of the ride to the headquarters was kept in silence, primarily because Mako felt no need to continue talking. It was tiring work. The strain on his mind grew little-by-little every day, and he was in need of rest. He had been on active duty for the past four years, and a day never went by where something life-threatening didn't happen. Still, he couldn't find the strength to take time off. He loved his job almost as much as his brother. He only wished that it took less effort.

It was noon when they finally rolled up to the station, the companion car pulling in behind them. Mako escorted the man with the crooked hat out of the car, and guided him into the building. Immediately, they were passed by two laughing metalbenders, and Chen inched closer to his partner.

"Man, I really hate those elitists," he muttered under his breath.

"They can probably hear you, you know," Mako reminded him. They turned the corner and entered an elevator.

"Anyone interested in going to the big game tonight? I've got an extra pair of tickets," Officer Xiao asked curiously, the doors closing the seven men in the cramped, metal box.

"Can't. It's my son's birthday," Officer Pomi said, disappointed.

"How old is he now?" Chen asked.

"Turning ten. They grow old so fast."

"Aw… that's adorable," cooed Chen, his big eyes welling up with tears. Mako rolled his eyes in embarrassment. When the elevator doors opened up, the officers hurried out of the tight space and into the next office. Luckily, Chief Beifong was already waiting for them, occupying her time by slamming her fist on a co-workers desk and spitting such harsh words at him that he nearly burst into tears.

"Chief, we've got some prisoners here that you might be interested in," Mako said, stepping forward to his irate boss.

"Why are you bothering to bring them up here?" Lin snapped at him. "They should go right to the holding cells."

"If it's anything to you, I'd like to request for their interrogation. They were robbing a bank far outside of Triad territory, and there's just something off-putting about the whole thing."

Lin ushered the detective away. "Fine, do it. I'm a bit busy at the moment."

Mako, feeling both proud that he got a request granted and pitiful towards the thin, weak soul that Line was tormenting, turned back to his group.

"Get them prepped," he instructed simply. "Chen, you learn what these guys are doing. It may help you out in the future."

Chen gave a stern salute, and followed the men back into the elevator. As it descended, a sudden thought popped back into Lin's mind.

"Oh Mako, you have a visitor," she said with a shrug.

"A visitor?" Mako asked suspiciously. "Who would come to—"

"Mako!"

A small frame quickly ran to Mako at full speed and latched on to him, causing home to teeter and nearly fall. He was only barely able to catch himself on the frame of a nearby desk, and then he still had the extra weight to support. As Mako stumbled and winced, he caught a fleeting glimpse of the creature that gripped him tightly.

Attached to Mako was a small girl, smaller than she had any right to be. Her skin was unusually pale and creamy, and her frame was almost sickly thin. Her clothes were pristine, properly ironed and buttoned in all of the proper places. She had a loving, happy smile, a button nose and two ever-curious grey eyes. Her hair was an anomaly, flowing across her shoulders and back in pure, unnatural white. She giggled happily as she hugged onto Mako's muscular frame. Mako, on the other hand, was trying his best to hide his horror.

Her name was Sy. She was Mako's girlfriend.

Sy was nineteen years old, but radiated with youth. She had no last name, and technically, she had no first name either, as "Sy" wasn't her real name, but merely an identity she constructed for herself because her real name "sucked". She was known by all of his acquaintances to be a bit overbearing and subject to the occasional sudden mood change, which led to him not showing her around to many acquaintances. On the only occasion in which she was introduced to the Avatar, she proceeded to talk about the great deeds of the bridge between two worlds for forty-five minutes before casually (and completely accidentally) insulting her hairstyle, after which Korra confided in Mako that he had terrible taste in women. As it stood, there was no real reason for Mako to be dating Sy, yet like his profession; he couldn't bear to leave her. In the past four years, the firebender had gone through eight relationships, most of which lasted for only a few weeks before the unfortunate woman broke up with him. However, he had been with Sy for almost five months, which to him meant only one thing: she was a keeper.

"Sy, you really aren't supposed to be here," Mako said nervously, feeling his ribs being crushed beneath his girlfriend's hug.

"I know you said that, but you've been gone all day," Sy explained. "I just wanted to spend time with my big, strong, cop boyfriend."

"Yes, but we can do that when I'm not working," Mako said, removing the arms from his chest. Sy simply stared at him in curiosity.

"So… why don't you have a picture of me on your desk?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Wh-what?" Mako said, perplexed by her sudden change of emotion. "I had to make room for my paperwork. Also, you take all copies of our photos together."

"Oh yeah, I guess that's kind of true," Sy reasoned with herself. "So, do you know why I'm here?"

"I thought you were here to see me?"

"That's partly true, but there's something else I want to tell you," Sy stated, clasping her hands behind her back. Her button nose twitched as she smiled confidently. "Guess where I got us reservations to two days from now?"

Mako had no idea, but being a semi-wise boyfriend, he said the first thing that came to his mind. "Is it… that place you were excited to go to?"

Sy thrust her hands in the air. "Yes, it is!" she cheered enthusiastically. "It's the fanciest restaurant in Republic City: Kwong's Cuisine! Do you know how they treat their guests there?"

"Actually, I've been there before," Mako admitted. How could he forget Kwong's Cuisine? The upscale eatery, aside from being the most high-class restaurant in the city, was the location of his first date with Asami, another failed relationship that he didn't want to remember.

"And then, maybe afterwards," Sy suggested cautiously. "We can go back to my house, and you can… finally meet my pare—"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mako said quickly. "I know you think this will be some kind of fairy tale meeting, I'm pretty sure your parents wouldn't be my biggest fans."

"Oh, you don't know that! It's not like they'd hate you the second they saw you."

Sy paused for a moment, and reflected deeply about what she had just said.

"Okay, maybe my dad would hate you, but my mom would be pretty much fine."

Before Mako could restate his opinion, Lin suddenly stepped between the couple, and forcefully shoved them apart.

"You two can work out your relationship drama somewhere else," she said sternly. "Mako, I need you out on a noise complaint call from the Winged-Lion District."

"A… noise complaint call? Chief, I'm not sure if something that simple really requires my attention."

"Trust me: this one does," Lin reaffirmed, her face serious and strict. In an instant, Mako knew that she wasn't messing around. If the job required sending a detective, that could only mean one thing:

Whatever it was, it must have been pretty noisy.

The Winged-Lion District was home to some of the most elite patrons of Republic City. It was located far away from the rest of the dire populace, up atop a mountain where the wealthy could both figuratively and literally look down on others. As Mako drove alone up the vacant streets, he wondered what his purpose of being there was. There were almost no crimes whatsoever in the rich districts, and even if there were, they would probably be so minor that police investigation would not be necessary.

But why a noise complaint?

Mako looked out at the fancy estates that he passed along the way. One home owned by a single wealthy entrepreneur could fit his entire extended family with plenty of room to spare. These mansions were usually owned by the senior, experienced business person, and these people tended to live quiet lives.

So why a noise complaint?

Mako pulled up to the marked address. He identified it as some sort of luxurious condominium, but having no experience on the subject, he could not say for certain. The surrounding neighborhood was deadly still. As he exited the car and walked to the building, he felt very uneasy. There was something dreadful about the district that he just couldn't identify, but he felt like something horrible was waiting to happen. He walked to a bright green door, and knocked thrice. An old, grouchy woman, dressed solely in a robe, opened the door, and shook her fist.

"What do you want?" she sneered.

"Uh," Mako stammered. "I got a report about a noise complaint. Would you know anything about that?"

"Ah, the damn noise!" the woman cried. She pointed up at her ceiling. "Ever since this morning, Kuzo's been playing that horrid opera music nonstop. He won't turn it down or anything. He doesn't even like opera music, so why does he keep playing it!?"

"Hmm… he doesn't like opera music," Mako thought aloud. He looked up at the balcony above his head. Above that was the room in question. As soon as his eyes left her, the senile woman slammed the door in his face, leaving him without a word. Curiously, he began to investigate. He walked around the condo until he found a stairwell. The sun was blinding him as he ascended, marching on the white stone until he reached the second floor. He carefully made his way to the room of Kuzo, whoever that happened to be.

As he approached the door, the sound of opera music filled his ears. A woman was singing a beautiful solo, her voice rising and falling like the tides, growing and fading, becoming an ever-shifting beautiful life all on its own.

Mako knocked on the door twice.

"Mr. Kuzo?" he called. "This is the police. We've got a complaint about too much noise coming from this apartment. Can you come to the door?"

The opera music continued. There were no footsteps. Mako knocked again.

"Mr. Kuzo? Open the door. This is the police. We've received a complaint about the volume of the music."

There was no response. Mako knocked again.

"Please, Mr. Kuzo, open up."

When there was still no response, Mako reached for the knob. It gave way, and the door creaked open, revealing darkness within the room.

Something wasn't right.

Mako slowly opened the door, hearing the loud groaning of the wood sliding open. It was pitch black inside of the apartment. Mako called out again.

"Hello? Mr. Kuzo, are you there?"

When no answer came, he fumbled for the light switch. He flicked it on, and the room came to life. There was nothing very fancy present. There was only a couch, a few chairs, and a radio, which played a beautiful serenade. Mako stepped forward into the apartment. There didn't seem to be any problems.

Yet, Mako knew: something unnatural was in the air.

He continued calling out, walking around the apartment in search for clues. The woman in the opera reached her grand solo. Her voice dipped and rose, ascending incredible valleys and plunging into the depths of the ocean. Mako came to the bedroom door, and curiously opened it.

Once he looked inside, he froze.

Kuzo, an elderly man with grey hair, a gentle face and round belly, was sprawled across his bed—limbs stretched in every direction, eyes rolled up in the back of his head—with multiple incisions made across his fatty stomach, and a slashed throat that was oozing blood. His sheets and bedding were dyed red, and his guts were splayed out over his torso in a gruesome work of art.

Mako's eyes wandered to the wall above Kuzo's decrepit body. Someone had written on the wall in red fluid. The character was something Mako easily recognized:

Greedy.

As Mako stood in silence, unable to look away, the opera woman finished her tremendous solo, her falsetto voice hitting the final note in a last, glorious crescendo.