Note: We at GodSaveTheKings cannot believe it has been almost a year since Legend of Korra ended. This fandom has been an absolute joy to write for, and we would like to thank everyone who has come along this journey with us. As always, we encourage reviews to let us know what you like and what you want to see more of. Here is the net chapter of Crescendo, with another hopefully coming before the end of the year. Enjoy.

Korra left the home of the Irro family lethargically. An immensely unsatisfying feeling forced its way into the back of her head, and as she ambled out of the small apartment complex, she was in serious doubt of her motivations for being there in the first place. The grieving parents had no information over the disappearance of their son. They did not know who had taken him away, or where they went. The meeting was completely pointless.

She scolded herself. She knew the meeting wasn't entirely pointless. She helped a scared family feel better about a terrible situation. At least that counted for something. Lin had given her this job, and it was her duty to do it to the best of her ability. It might not have been direct action, but she knew that providing emotional stability was equally important to the healing process. Several years rotting in the Southern Water Tribe taught her that lesson.

Yet, there was another part of her that craved more. Nothing would provide more support to a family than returning their son. In fact, nothing would satisfy her more than punching the Hanzi Killer in the teeth. She could not help it. Despite her best attempts at finding a course of total peace, there was still a fragment buried within her that found the utmost satisfaction from knocking someone cruel clean onto the floor. It was faint, existing as no more than a thin mist that occasionally compacted into a solid, tangible mass of violent need in her chest, but it was present. It must have been a left over from the vigorous training in her youth, when all she ever thought about was burning a target or smashing a foe with boulders. The more she thought of it, the more it creeped into the forefront of her mind. A sudden thought of breaking the Killer's filthy hands with the snap of her fingers drifted before her, followed by a subtle yearning bubbling in her stomach.

Korra sighed with contempt. No, she decided, that wasn't who she was. She could not afford to let rage or vengeance interfere with her work. Regardless of what happened to Lin, and regardless of what happened to the victims, she needed to stay calm and act professionally. There were others already searching for the Killer directly. She needed to complete her job, which was to make sure the families of the victims felt safe and secure.

She shook her head. What she really needed to do was think more positively. She was supposed to provide support, yet she was rather sure that while talking to the Irro family, she bore a scowl more than a smile. Quickly, she jumbled through as many positive thoughts in her head as she could think. Learning that she was the Avatar: good. Attending her friend's wedding: excellent. Asami wearing a cocktail dress on their first date: wonderful. Defeating Tenzin in a difficult game of Pai Sho: superb. Asami dancing wearing a cocktail dress: fantastic. Regaining access to the Avatar State: phenomenal. Asami taking off the cocktail dress: positivity overload; so much, in fact, that Korra actually felt ashamed to be thinking of it in public, and stored the memory back into the recesses of her mind for a later time and place.

It was doubly unfortunate that Korra was thinking of such inappropriate things as she approached her next destination: a school building, the stature of which the Avatar was unaware. As it turned out, Korra knew painfully little about public education. Most of her friends never attended a public school, and those that did often painted an ugly picture of it. She knew that days were divided up based on subject, which included calligraphy, biology, and an abominable, dreadful thing called "mathematics". (It was not that she was incapable of math—multiplication and division were child's play—but when Asami had attempted to explain to her that the first derivative of the natural logarithm of an x-value was equal to the value of one divided by the x-value, she became completely turned-off by the subject in its entirety.) Aside from that, Korra claimed to know nearly nothing else. She did not know how long the periods of classes were, how many students were involved, what supplies they used, whether they were granted breaks, how social status worked or how it affected anything, or anything else of use.

It was perhaps with a twinge of guilt that Korra read the sign at the front of the complex as "Avatar Aang Secondary School", realizing what her legacy impacted and how little she knew about it. Then again, the name of the school was nonsensical, as Aang himself never received public education (with the exception of an incident in the Fire Nation that Tenzin preferred not to tell). Her next impression was that the school seemed far more innocent than she had been led to believe. In the front yard of the school were dozens of young teens and children sitting outside, eating food and talking pleasantly with one another. Their endless chatter greeted Korra's ears and blocked out all other noise in the area, as if consuming the other sounds itself. The children were blocked in with a chain-link fence, yet given plenty of room to roam about if they wished.

The woman from the Southern Water Tribe traced her path along the fence until she came to a large opening, with the banner of the school displayed proudly overhead. Korra moved slowly through the opening, waiting for adults to run up and stop her. Yet they never came. Korra shrugged it off; she supposed schools didn't need that much security. As she walked along the pathway towards the entrance to the actual building, she gazed left and right at the children surrounding her. Still, no eyes met hers. She wasn't sure if the children did not recognize her or simply did not care, but none of them broke free of their conversations to notice her. By the time she reached the doorway, she was shocked that she had not encountered any opposition. She checked left and right one last time, just in case someone needed to catch her attention.

Instead, she spotted something else. Off in the corner, away from the merry chatter of the youth, were three boys huddled around the fence. There was something odd about them, as they occasionally shook and kicked their legs out at something on the ground. Korra instinctively moved towards them. As she grew closer, the details became apparent. There was a fourth boy, lying still on the ground, and his matching grey suit dripping with blood. Korra recognized his other features: dark, unkempt hair, a small frame, and a large smile spread across his face.

"Stop smiling at us, freak," the largest boy grunted, kicking the small child in the gut. "This is what you get for being so weird."

Masaki groaned, and pushed himself off of the ground. He stumbled immediately, and slunk back against the fence. A long stream of blood fell from his damaged nose, but his smile never faded.

"Come on," he taunted, "I can keep doing this all day."

"You're asking for it, shithead," the boy said, winding his arm back for another strike. Without wasting a moment, Korra rushed forward.

"Hey! Let go of him!" she yelled as they boys turned around to face her. They were only up to her chest, yet they did not seem frightened in the slightest.

"Aw, look," the lead boy laughed, "Masaki needs a girl to fight his battles for him. How stupid can you get?"

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but it needs to stop right now," Korra said sternly. The boy laughed off the remark, and his lackeys followed his lead.

"What are you going to do? Tell the teacher on me? You're the creepy bitch stalking around the school grounds. I don't even know who you are!"

"Kid, you need to learn some manners," Korra threatened. "I'm warning you, walk away."

"Oh yeah? Make me, bitch."

Korra closed her eyes. "Okay… I warned you." Suddenly, her eyes shot open, bright white and pulsing with energy. All at once, the bravado and the intensity in the child's face faded, and he screamed and fled past her into the school building. His companions followed suit, darting after him in panic. Once they were gone, she took a deep breath, and soon, her eyes returned to their normal blue. Masaki stared at her, his eyes showing a pain masked by his unmoving grin. Despite all of the eyes in the world now resting on her back, Korra stared solely at the damaged boy, who sat up crookedly against the fence.

"Are you okay, Masaki?" she asked him, crouching down to eye-level.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "This isn't too bad. At least they mostly stayed away from my face."

"They do this to you often?"

"Probably once a week. Really, it's not that bad though."

"Well, hopefully they'll stay away from you for now on. If you ever need help, or if you need to talk to someone about it—"

"I think I'll be fine," Masaki cut her off. He paused for a long moment. "Were you really going to hurt them?"

"Of course not," Korra said with a small grin. "That was just a show to scare them off. I don't like using my gifts to hurt people. If all goes well, I'll never have to."

Masaki snickered. "I know. That was what you told me, remember? I tried doing what you said; I tried to be friendly to them. I was really trying to be nice. I even let them take their aggression out on me."

"Masaki, I think I might not have been clear," Korra said slowly. "Just because you're trying to be nice doesn't mean that you should let other people attack you like that. You can always defend yourself if you need to. I just meant that you should try to make more friends. I don't think bullies are included in that."

"So… don't be nice to them?" Masaki asked quizzically, staring wide-eyed at the Avatar. She shook her head.

"No. Always be nice," Korra clarified, albeit poorly. "Just make sure that if they try to hurt you don't just stand there and take it. Stand up for yourself. They'll respect that… I think."

Masaki remained silent, reflecting on the concept. He opened his mouth to respond, when a loud shriek pierced the air.

"Get away from that student!" a high-pitched voice cried from behind. Korra rose to face the noise as a sharply-dressed woman stormed towards her, brandishing a ruler as a makeshift weapon. Her face was like that of a lion, fierce and determined, and her light brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She waved the ruler furiously at the woman before her. "Unhand that boy right now!"

Korra shot her hands into the air. "Whoa, take it easy. No need to be swinging anything at anybody."

"What are you doing trespassing on school property?" the woman questioned, shoving her ruler directly into Korra's chin. "And what the hell do you think you're doing with my student?"

"Trespassing? I just walked in through the front gate," Korra explained calmly. "No one told me that I couldn't come in. There wasn't any security, so I just assumed—"

"Dammit, I knew those guards were slacking off," the woman cursed through her teeth. "That still doesn't explain who you are or what you're doing here."

"My name is Avatar Korra. I was sent here on official business from Chief Lin Beifong of the Republic City Police Department. I was passing through when I noticed Masaki was being attacked, so I helped him out. I don't want to cause any trouble."

"Avatar Korra?" the woman asked with suspicion. "You sure don't look like the Avatar."

"There's a giant statue of me in the middle of the park if you want to check it out yourself," Korra said half-jokingly. The woman studied her face, eyeing every crucial detail, and then looked over her shoulder at the wounded student.

"Masaki, did this woman attack you?" the teacher asked.

"No, she's the Avatar, and she's my friend," Masaki said with certainty.

"Go see the healer. She'll patch you up," the teacher said with a sigh.

"Yes, Miss Satori," he responded weakly. With a great amount of effort, he hoisted himself off of the ground, smiled kindly at Korra, and then limped towards the school building. As Korra watched him go, something he said latched onto her thoughts.

"Miss Satori?" she asked. "You're Illu Satori?"

"Yes," said the teacher. "Why do you want to know?"

"You're actually the reason I'm here," Korra stated. "I want to ask you some questions about your sister's murder."

When Jackdaw was escorted into the police station, all eyes were drawn to him at once. All conversations and work came to a screeching halt, and Mako felt the air grow cold. Jackdaw, or Domin Kuzarov, or whatever he wished to be called, was unlike any man he had ever seen before. Most strikingly, he was a very tall, looming figure, not broad, but lean and stretched like a grasshopper stood upright on its hind legs. He did not walk, but rather lurked through the hallways of the station, as cool blue eyes scanned every person in the vicinity. His entire body was muscular, yet hidden along the thin frame. He wore a long brown trench coat, which he used to drape his torso effectively, and thick, worn boots that trotted across the floor. His jaw was angular and sharp; a thin coating of stubble partially masked his prominent, almost beautiful features, and his short, dark-brown hair stuck out at the top, with thick, oily strands protruding over his brow.

He was carefully led into the interrogation room by five officers, who held clubs at the ready. Fortunately, there was no incident, but even as he was locked inside of the room, Mako could still cut the tension in the air with a knife. The Jackdaw sat patiently in the other room, fiddling with the handcuffs on his slender wrists. Mako watched in silence. For twenty minutes, not a living soul went near the room. Someone was supposed to go in there and talk to him, but no one did, and Mako was beginning to get frustrated. They were not legally allowed to keep someone in interrogation for a prolonged period time without activity.

Then, about five minutes later, Mako found out why none of the other officers were going to talk to him. Limping into the police station at that time—arm wrapped in a sling, half in uniform, a stern look of determination on her face—was the Chief herself, who greeted him so bluntly that he was unsure how to respond to the woman who was bedridden just the day before.

"Is Jackdaw here?" she asked coldly.

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Don't let anyone else into the room after me," she ordered, moving slowly towards her target. "I want to keep this personal."

"Chief, hold up for a second," Mako managed to stammer out. "What are you even doing here? You should be getting rest at the hospital."

"This is too important for rest," she stated. "Besides, they let me out. They said I was healthy enough to be released."

"You can barely stand! They never should have let you leave."

"Well, the doctor owed me a few favors," Lin shrugged. "I'm not going to fight him. I just want to ask a few questions."

"Then why don't you let talk to him?" Mako asked. "You'll save energy."

Lin considered it for a moment, and then shook her head. "I don't want to expose anyone else to that evil," she said solemnly. "He's pretty good at getting in your head. I'm used to it, so I'll be fine, but you are not, under any circumstances, to get further involved with this. What's the worst that can happen?"

"He can attack you while you can't defend yourself," he responded almost immediately. Lin simply brushed past him, and went on her way.

"He won't hurt me. He won't risk doing something that stupid in front of the entire station. Hsng back, detective," she ordered. Mako sighed half-heartedly, knowing that nothing he said would change the Chief's mind. He entered the small, dark room nearby to watch the interrogation from a safe distance. Without further delay, Lin walked into the room with eyes locked on the bug-like criminal. A sincere smile spread across his face, as if greeting a long lost friend.

"Hello, Chief," he said, his gravelly voice barely louder than a whisper. "It's been, what, three years since I've seen you last? You look pretty good for pushing sixty."

"Kuzarov," she responded emotionlessly. "Let's cut the formalities. I'm not in a very good mood today."

"Why would you be?" he asked. "I heard what happened to you. It's incredible that you managed to make such a fast recovery. You always were very difficult to kill."

"Thanks for the compliment," Lin sneered, taking a seat across the table from the madman. "Do you know why we've brought you here?"

"Well, I can take a few guesses," Jackdaw stated, leaning back in his chair. "It could be because of that nasty arm injury of yours. Maybe you think I'm the one who did it, this new 'Hanzi Killer' everyone is raving about. But I don't think that's the case at all. You know I don't build bombs, and I feel like if I made an attempt on your life, the cops you sent to round me up would have done more than ask politely to see me. And then there's the fact that you came to see me yourself, instead of sending in that brooding detective or any other of these half-wits, which to me, suggests one thing: this is a personal matter. Something is bothering you, and that something is specifically pertaining to me."

Lin remained silent for a long moment. After a few seconds, she finally muttered, "What do you know about Jackdaw's Den?"

Domin instantly perked up. "Jackdaw's Den? That's an old, ancient name. I haven't heard it in a while. You extinguished that name a long time ago."

"Apparently not," Lin said bitterly. "I was just informed by one of my top officers that Jackdaw's Den has been up and running for a full year now. I doubt such an ancient name springs back into the public mind after a decade without someone forcing it back. Given how pretty much everyone involved with that nuthouse is rotting in a jail cell, the suspects are pretty narrow."

"Jackdaw's Den is up and running," Domin smiled to himself. "That's very fascinating news indeed. I wonder how that happened without me. Tell me, Beifong, what exactly is going on in this new Jackdaw's Den? I certainly haven't heard of anything about it in the news over the past year."

"That what I was hoping to get from you," Lin admitted. "We don't have any records showing an increase of crime in the region, at least nothing that is any different from the rest of Republic City. But I've received reports that someone powerful is keeping the area under tight security, blocking out rival gangs and keeping police as far away as possible. Everyone there is afraid of something."

"And you think that something is me?"

"It's the most logical choice I can think of," stated the Chief. "It's the same area where the old Den was held, t's located near your residence, and—most importantly—it has your damn name in the title. There aren't any people I can think of that can gain and hold power while hiding in the shadows."

Jackdaw chuckled. He leaned forward on the table, resting his chin on his hands. "Oh, Lin. I would think you have more important things to do than chase ghosts. I don't know anything about this new Jackdaw's Den, but if I had to guess, I'd say that someone probably picked up the name from an old gang member, and is using it to scare people to gather territory. That's an old Triad tactic, if I'm correct. Besides, why would I even want to start the Den up anyway? I only did it because the Black Alchemists told me to, and in case you haven't noticed, they aren't around any longer. Your accusations are baseless."

"Don't you think I noticed that?" Lin sneered. "I didn't drag you here to find a half-assed excuse to throw you in a prison, no matter how much I would actually like to. I want you to help us."

"Help you?" Jackdaw asked curiously. He thought furiously about the offer, and then smiled upon realization. "So, this is about that 'Hanzi Killer' after all."

"It's about both. The Killer has managed to avoid our detection despite all the attention he brings to himself. We have a few leads, but they've been dwindling on us and are hard to come by. I think that whoever this person is, they must have ties to a larger group to get around. Jackdaw's Den used to be known for the bodies it left lying in its wake, so I think it's reasonable to assume that its reputation could come back to haunt us. You know the criminal underworld inside and out. You could weave your way into the system, and see what you can find."

"And what would be in it for me?" Domin questioned. "Is it the satisfaction of knowing that I saved people's wretched lives?"

"How about I grant you a sooner release from house arrest?" Lin proposed with a shrug.

"Would you really feel comfortable with me back on the streets?"

"No, but I'd feel better knowing that you did a good deed to earn that privilege. I'll be straight with you, Kuzarov. I don't like you at all. I personally hope you spend the rest of your days rotting in agony, and if I could go back in time, I never would have pulled your sorry ass out of that burning house. But right now, I have a score to settle with the Hanzi Killer, and nailing that bastard is worth almost everything to me."

Jackdaw chuckled again, leaning back in his chair and swinging his feet up onto the table. "Well, normally I'd tell you to go fuck yourself," he said plainly, "but I like your honesty. There's a certain amount of… how to put this… desperation to your voice that makes me feel good about it. I'll do whatever I can to help, Chief, as long as you uphold your end of the bargain."

"Glad to hear it," Ln said, rising slowly from her chair. Her body ached as she turned around to leave. "I'll send a unit to keep up on you. If you try to run, we will hunt you down, so don't push your luck. This is a once-in-a-lifetime offer."

Jackdaw smirked at her, and she slammed the door as she left the interrogation room. Mako quickly flanked her.

"What was that?" he asked, horribly angry and confused. "I thought you were going to make an arrest, but you're letting him work for you?"

"I know what I'm doing, Mako," Lin assured him. "He'll be closely monitored, like he always has been. Besides, we can't arrest him; he hasn't done anything wrong in the past ten years. We might as well gain some use out of him."

"You said yourself that we can't trust him," Mako claimed. "How do we know that this all isn't just some trick to go after you? What is he's the Hanzi Killer?"

"We can trust him," Lin said more confidently. "Mako, in all of the years I've known Jackdaw, never once has he hid his true intentions from me. He's never tried to hide the fact that he's a monster; hell, he loves letting people know it. He's always told me that he wants me dead, and he's even given me some graphic descriptions of what he'd do to my corpse. Truthfully, the reason I know he isn't the Hanzi Killer is because if he did try to kill me with a bomb, he would have written his own name on it to let everyone know who did it."

"But—"

"Make way! Prisoner coming through!" came a sudden shout from behind. Mako hurried out of the way as five guards led a now-handcuffed Jackdaw out towards the exit. This time, Jackdaw grinned the whole time as he was dragged away. As he passed Mako by, their eyes locked. Time seemed to freeze as Mako found himself unable to look away from the bright blue orbs. The criminal's glare passed straight through him, sending a shiver up his spine.

And then, Jackdaw flashed his impeccable white teeth at the detective, and was hauled away by the police.