PROLOGUE

"Even with all the power in the world, she is still weak."

It was the first quiet night Azula had experienced in over a year. The real and the unreal came and went at their convenience, without any form or control. At times, the ever-present chaos could be tolerated; at others, it hammered into her head, exhausting her energy. No matter the circumstances, there was always something: a small noise, a slight movement, or an unsettling feeling. It was as if the moment she let her guard down, a meticulously constructed sandcastle would collapse once more.

Not that night. That night, despite her body stiffening, her back throbbing, and her hands being restrained, she felt none of the bitter sensations. Instead, Azula chose to immerse herself in the slight tranquility that she had, perhaps undeservedly, attained.

She kept her eyes closed, savoring the clarity of her blissful mind. When was the last time ideas came coherently? She didn't know. At least by now, the difference was uneven and opaque. Her father might have considered her act cowardly or childish, but he couldn't help but notice the slight shaking of her shoulders. It was a sign of a deep-rooted resistance, stronger than any chains could hold. It served as a warning to trust her instincts and not to open her sleepy golden eyes.

However, against her will, bright lights began to illuminate the dim room. One by one, the tiny sparkles transformed the gloomy place into a warmer one. It didn't matter whether it was a dream or reality; the constant flashes started to overwhelm Azula's eyelids, which had to strain to fully cover her eyes.

In the end, she had to give in. It was not strange, for a long time now her wishes had never been heard. With a series of quick blinks, Azula surveyed the confines of her new cell, in which she found herself trapped. Among all the bars, walls, and prisons, the princess had to give her brother credit; this was the most bizarre and fascinating of all.

The room was small, filled with candles enclosed in lanterns that barely illuminated the space. The ceilings stretched into darkness, and there was no way to determine if this was an infinite space or a viable means of escape. Most distinctive were the labels - hundreds of them taped to the wall, forming rows of ritual seals that Azula had never seen before in her life. Her best guess was a temple of the Fire Sages, but neither the chair, nor the candles, nor even the architecture she caught a glimpse of matched the composition of the Fire Nation's designs.

"Good evening, Sleeping Beauty." As she approached, she noticed a man with white hair and bandages covering his eyes sitting in a chair above her.

"Who are you?"

"How bossy! And I thought you would welcome your savior more warmly." The man touched his chest in pain, visibly suffering even to the blind, although it was only an act. "Satoru Gojo, or whatever you should call me, master. After all, I will be taking care of the Tokyo freshmen, so we'll get together."

"Sorcery?" Azula scoffed at the memory of her senile uncle talking about spirits and natural forces, but she was also intrigued by the mention of the place. "Tokyo?"

Azula thought it was a joke. No, she wished that what the man said was a strange peasant joke, but there were so many illogical things in the statement. At first, it was well known that education among the nobility was not extensive. The noble houses raised their children to become competent adults and inherit their legacy and wealth after they had served in various capacities during their early and later stages of development.

"I understand that you have several questions, but I am currently unable to provide explanations. Therefore, I will be direct and to the point: girl, you will face execution."

Azula's eyes widened in surprise. Few things could surprise her at that point, but her brother executing her was not one of them. Zuko was too soft to do something like that. No, that was based on the assumption that she stayed in the Fire Nation when it didn't appear to be true.

But if it mattered at all, she didn't quite connect the ideas. A part of her wished to maintain her composure, but her slight sighing agitation was enough to prove otherwise. That was not her wish; she felt it was exaggerated. No, more than that, she found it terrifying because her actions could easily be manipulated to condemn her to death.

"Or at least, that would be," Satoru laughed, greatly enjoying Azula's contrasting reaction. "You see, these old geezers take anything as a threat, and a dimensional trespass that disrupts the established rules and knowledge of Jujutsu is sufficient reason to eliminate everything."

"They see me as a threat," Azula said, with a faint glimmer of hope to escape the peculiar situation.

"Not you, but what you bring with you. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the terms 'dimension' or 'universe,' or perhaps 'realm' or 'world' would resonate better with you. Although I must admit, it's not something that someone can easily ignore. Before your arrival, I would have only believed it in some poorly written fantasy story."

The reality is that both concepts were unfamiliar to her, but she began to grasp the meaning behind what this man was trying to say. Though she was never very devout, the stories of her uncle and the spirit world were not unfamiliar to her. If the threat was her mere existence, it may be that she had arrived at a realm beyond the known boundaries, one that challenged the rationale of that world. Her very being bore these newfound restraints, not due to her social standing, but simply because she existed. Even if it sounded far-fetched, it was the most plausible thing to do.

Although deep down, she appreciated the intervention (something he would never acknowledge), she did not understand the man's refusal of the order. If an external agent that posed a danger not only to a nation but to the entire world should have been eliminated. Even so, that was initially the case, but something has changed. Azula thought to play with more patience but found that he did not have much, and the man was too open. She did not know if it was because the situation made him feel confident, or if there was something else.

"Why? What change?"

"Your potential... and the allure of mystery, if you ask me," Satoru pointed out, holding up his fingers for emphasis. "Your cursed energy is extraordinary. Even in its raw form, I can sense its latent power. And trust me, when it comes to that kind of thing, I never fail."

Azula jotted down all the concepts the man mentioned during the conversation and embraced the idea. In short, she was not executed because they viewed her as a valuable soldier for their objectives. A pronounced frown was etched on her face, reflecting her resentment and annoyance towards the mysterious organization that had captured her.

"It's hilarious. But don't worry, if you become strong, they won't bother you... much."

"And you are? You speak too confidently. Aren't you afraid that your plans and those you refer to as "geezers" won't come to fruition? Because I'm not in the mood to return to a life of slavery."

"I like your attitude," Gojo pointed a finger at Azula, indeed pleased with the answer given. "Unfortunately, you must abandon that idea. Do you know why?" With a toothy grin, twice as wide as the one he had a moment ago, Gojo pointed at himself. "Because you are looking at the most powerful sorcerer of all. No matter what you plot or try, no matter how much you discover in this dimension, that's not something you'll change anytime soon."

Satoru stood up, ensuring that his words did not escalate beyond the statement. It was also the moment Azula realized how tall and imposing that slender man could be.

"Anyway, classes start in two days. I'll take you to your room," Satoru said as he walked over to Azula and untied the restraints. "And don't interpret my words as a threat. You can trust that the classes will be more fun than they may sound. This is not your typical school where you get bored with calculus or grammar lessons... well, not all the time."

"Can I trust these words?" Azula questioned, not fully comprehending the character of the person standing before her.

"You shouldn't, but right now I'm the only ally you know."

That was an irrefutable point, although it was infuriating how calmly her words were spoken. Her demeanor screamed 'narcissist,' so clearly that her image became the first thing associated with the dictionary. However, from the beginning, Azula sensed something different about this man, something that kept her on higher alert than before.

Her mind was in a state of heightened alert, ready to launch into attack at the slightest hint of danger, whether it be a shadow on the palace pillars or near her companions' beds. This was almost like anticipating something, an unstoppable force that was only a matter of time before it landed. The only way she could relate to this sensation was through the tremors in her legs, which compelled her to take the opposite path from that man.

That is when she understood: it was a survival instinct.

Was he really that strong?

Were these self-proclaimed sorcerers really that powerful?

And if, in theory, she had the potential to develop a power so great that her mere presence denoted a power greater than that of the Avatar, then perhaps she did not find herself in a desperate situation. No, quite the contrary. For the first time in a long while, a spark ignited within her, one she hadn't felt since the incident with the mirror. A mischievous smile couldn't help but grace her lips.

XXX

Well, this is just a translation of the work in Spanish. I want to experiment to see if I can reach the English audience being older than the Spanish audience, although it is only an attempt at least with this story. If you have suggestions to improve this aspect, or any of you would like to be my beta reader I would be very grateful.

Even if it's only the prologue, if you like it or are interested in it, a favorite and a review would help me a lot.

Until next time. Bye.