Danev

"However!" Aimuro continued, reading off of the postage that'd been nailed to the notice board in the courtyard, bringing in the latest news from beyond the front. "The Dragon of the West's forces met the counter attacking Earth Kingdom army and engaged in a tense battle that was waged for three days and four nights!"

The crowd of trainees stood in awe, waiting for Aimuro to continue to read through the reports of the latest battle to be waged over Ba Sing Se. He could sense the anticipation. He used it to his advantage, building suspense, waiting for the exact moment to resume.

"The 64th division, under the temporary command of Colonel Choro, so as to enable a successful offensive for the Dragon's Host, launched a series of subversive distractions along the southeastern wall, drawing out defenders that would otherwise as hindered the Dragon's fighting ability. Heir Apparent Prince Iroh, son of Fire Lord Ozai, alongside his son, Prince Lu Ten, led a vanguard from the Fire Nation army of five thousand's northern and southern flank. Enemy forces were, between these three fronts, overwhelmed and destroyed."

A cheer from the crowd erupted, of which I was admittedly only a small part, but Aimuro wasn't done.

"Reports from scouts suggest that roughly three hundred Earth Kingdom soldiers escaped the fighting, but were not allowed back into their own walls for fear of advancing Fire Nation soldiers, and were instead killed by their own men so as to prevent their capture as well."

"Fuckin' ice cold," Chuta mused, the sentiment undoubtedly shared, that the Earth Kingdom could so readily kill so many of their own men.

"The front by Ba Sing Se's eastern wall has now grown even closer than that which it was before. Ordinarily, this would place the Dragon of the West's encampment within firing range of walled Earth Kingdom artillery. However, superior Fire Nation armaments have already gone to work clearing the top of the wall of battlements and it is believed that by month's end, entire stretches of Ba Sing Se's outer wall will be incapable of mounting a defense, much less retaliating. That concludes this report."

And just to ensure that there was no doubt as to our sentiment, the gathered soldiers of the 114th erupted into a vocal chorus of pride and elation once again.

Even months away from deployment ourselves, we were already beginning to treat the victories of our comrades, of the Fire Nation as a whole, as our own. After all, we wore their uniforms, bore their ranks, and soon enough, would be fighting their enemies. In a way, this concerned me, so many of us ready and willing to throw our lives at a war that wasn't ours, but made ours. What the reports failed to mention was how many Fire Nation soldiers were lost.

However, I had to admit that some rules of the slums applied to the battlefield just as much, and that was the importance of morale. The sooner we got into the proper spirit of fighting men, the better.

That did also mean, however, not subjecting ourselves to distractions from our training, and so I took it upon myself to say to the crowd after the excitement had begun to wane, "Alright! Enough reveling in the successes of others! Back to it!"

The "it" in question was a war game. One of many more that we'd been fighting this last week. It was confined to squad-based combat for now, pitting one team of ten against another to see how they fared when it wasn't just individual combat.

The local park in Citadel's inner city had been cordoned off for this exact purpose. I imagined the local population wasn't the most enthused about having their city park converted into a practice battlefield, but it was only for the weekdays, the weekend seeing it restored back to its proper function.

Even used now as it was, putting one team on defense and the other on offensive, the former defending a point while the latter attacked, I could tell it was a damned nice place. I'd been here just this last weekend, feeding turtle ducks in the pond with Oreke. There were trees around us, limited and imported, that served as the perfect staging areas for Azao and squad 2 to ambush us and pick us off one by one from the trees. There too was a central lake next to which our defensive line had been breached by Squad 2, overwhelmed by Mano's earthbending which had since been barred from being used during exercises in the name of so-called 'fairness,' though I was more convinced it was due to the property damage that'd been inflicted.

I protested. There was no better way to see what we were capable of than by actually putting our capabilities to use, even if it meant me and squad 3 were put at a disadvantage. It didn't matter. Whatever advantage we learned how to use now was one we could exploit to its fullest potential on the field. I figured we should have been there instead. Outside these walls, but the Fire Nation wasn't shy about their hesitation to let us pass these walls unless it was en route to Ba Sing Se as conquerors rather than potential defectors.

While the park was beautiful, made all the nicer by the fact that it'd been Oreke who had shown it to me for the first time, it wasn't the same as what there actually was. The actual outside world, hidden from us for nearly all our lives. Some of us had memories of seeing it before. I knew Fluke didn't. I, on the other hand, just a glimpse, remembering having seen it past the breach in the wall that the Fire Nation had left during their attack, but it'd been clouded by dust and smoke.

But I would be there soon enough.

That all presumed, of course, that Aden didn't mess things up.

I tried to get him out of my mind as I ordered squad 3 to hold positions and keep their eyes and ears out for hostile movement. We were on the defensive today against squad 4, and my own senses too should have been attuned for the sign of hostile movement, but I couldn't hold back the occasional thought of everything else: the approaching war, Fluke's 'Aegis' situation, and Aden still forming plans every other day on how we could make our way back to the slums, sometimes even proposing we steal as much supplies as we could, conscript some other benders to form an even-more-powerful Hornet gang, or some other dumbass plan.

I knew it was only a matter of time before he tried something stupid. I just had to make sure I'd be around for when he inevitably tried before he could get himself killed.

"Commander!" Private Eejun hissed from my side, crouched, snapping me out of my trance-like state. "Think I heard something."

I turned towards the direction he looked, and the line of trees that bordered our clearing where we were set to "hold the line."

What an idiotic position to hold, I thought as I tried to listen, pushing back the obtrusive thoughts.

I heard it too–brushing past the brambles. It was only the wind, and I told the private that. He nodded. I could hardly blame him though, or the other eight men I held the line with, for their fears. We were entirely exposed where we were, capable of being attacked from any angle to the point I wondered if Aozon had chosen this as our point to defend just out of spite.

It would hardly be the first time he'd gone out of his way just to make my life miserable. Whether it was my first weekend pass, my knife, or any number of ways he could find to easily screw me over, I wasn't about to let him do the same now.

I looked behind us. The treeline wasn't far, and it would give us far better cover, as well as a perfect view of the clearing for when the enemy did approach. If we could momentarily abandon our temporary defensive line, allow the enemy to move themselves into a trap, and ambush them from there, we could cinch this as a victory.

Fuck it. I can still make a victory of this.

"Squad 3," I whispered, just loud enough to get their attention. "Retreat back to the treeline. We'll draw the enemy out."

"Sir," spoke up Jame, ever the one to follow Fire Nation protocol to the letter. "Aren't our orders to hold this position?"

"This position is indefensible," I countered. "We'll stand a better chance of surviving and defeating the opposition if we reposition ourselves.

While I could tell he still had his doubts, the others were far less hesitant to move, frankly glad to no longer be out in the open. We moved our position, re-establishing a defensive line, though a few one with trees acting as our cover. We were concealed, we were covered, we had a chance of winning, which made it all the more frustrating when Lieutenant Aozon, acting as an observer alongside an armed guard of 2 Fire Nation soldiers approached our lines, giving away our positions, and asked of us, or rather, me in particular, "What is the meaning of this? On whose orders did you move?!"

I should have known he'd find something to complain about.

I stood up from where I was crouched, ready in position with a hand cannon fitted with a fraction of the blasting jelly and rubber pellets in the place of iron balls that would hurt like a bitch but not pierce skin or break bone. I saluted our platoon officer in time to answer, "Mine sir. We are establishing a new defensive position that offers a better advantage, sir!"

"Your orders were to hold the clearing."

"I judged the clearing to be terrain incapable of being held, and so ordered my men to reposition!"

"That is not your call to make, private. You received orders to hold the clearing, and that is the objective you will either accomplish, or die trying. Now return to your positions!"

Now? Is he serious?

"Sir, with all due respect, you've given away our position in coming here. The enemy will be waiting for us."

Lieutenant Aozon and his entourage were already turning to leave. "Then you best pray for good luck on your return."

And good luck we did not get.

We were gunned down upon our return, squad 4 waiting for us and having almost no difficulty in taking us down. I think we only managed to inflict a single casualty upon them I still bore the bruises of where those pellets had struck me while the others in my squad, by no means contented with the defeat, bore similar bruises if not those inflicted from wooden swords and spears. A part of me wondered if they blamed me. Not for today, but for everything. From the start, we'd always been pinned with the most nonsensical tasks, attacking positions that couldn't be possibly breached by a force triple our size, holding ridiculous positions, and no shortage of other objectives.

It was the grudge the lieutenant had against me, I knew, and the others knew too. I would hardly have blamed them for starting to resent the fact that it was my squad they'd been placed in. If they did, they didn't make it known to me, or at least didn't take it out on me, because the annoyance with it all was more than palpable, and I shared in it.

As it was us who'd been beaten yet again, scrubbing the latrines and handling clean-up duty following the company's meal time was our lot.

"Sure would be a shame if we didn't dry the floors right and Aozon slipped, fell, and hit his head," somebody muttered under their breath as we cleaned. It was Chejuh, never the best at keeping quiet with comments that were best left unsaid.

"What are we talking about?" Eejun asked.

Cheju shrugged, broom still in hand. "Just saying. Company would be better off without him."

"You shouldn't say things like that," Jame said. "Dangerous."

"Yeah? Who's listening?" With that, he let go of his broom, dropping it to the ground with a clatter that echoed across the steel walls, devoid of any Fire Nation guards watching. There were some posted outside, to be sure, but otherwise, we were alone. "Nobody gives a shit but Aozon who has more than enough reasons to be worried. Fuck him! Treating his company like his personal plaything."

I could hardly disagree. If anybody was in a position to notice the truth of these exact accusations, it was me, but all the same, what Chejuh was saying, he was helping nobody. He was only putting himself at undue risk.

"That's enough, Chejuh," I said.

"Oh don't tell me you disagree?! After all the shit he's pulled on you?"

I kept to my job, scrubbing the tables, and only addressed him over my shoulder, refusing to totally dedicate myself to this discussion. I couldn't afford to. I couldn't let Chejuh see that it'd gained my focus. That would only grant it more validity in his mind.

"Whether I agree or not isn't the point," I said. "Aozon may not be our biggest fan, but he's our commander. We can't just rise against him."

"So what then? Let him continue to dick us over? Get on our knees and beg?"

"No."

"So what then?"

I let my rag go. My table was done. Aozon wanted to turn the tables against us, and that was perfectly fine. We would manage. One way or another, and so I answered, "We'll beat him at his own game."

Fluke

"Boiler's loaded, commander!" Gunij called out from the rear of the tank, his station in engineering, hunched over a cylindrical container which he now shut. It was pitch black in the vehicle, the engine not having yet been turned on, and so Gan relied on the light that emanated through the cockpit hatch from the outside.

He flipped through the manual we'd been given, checking carefully to ensure we were on the right track while our tank commander, some existing soldier from the 62nd by the name of Dojai, looked on with clear annoyance and frustration at how long this was taking us, though said nothing.

I still wasn't quite sure what to make of him. Granted, he'd been in the military longer than any of us but something about him seemed completely and utterly green. I was tempted to ask if he'd ever seen combat before, but figured it better not to say anything lest the answer be a negative and I accidentally hurt his pride which, by the look of him, was of clear importance.

We'd been given a 3 hour block of time for a reason. It was our first time actually within the tank we'd been learning the workings of for the last few weeks. Needless to say, up close and personal as opposed to the blueprints found in our manuals and the descriptions given to us in class time, it was something to behold. The steel behemoth was even larger than I remembered seeing it when the 29th had come rolling into Citadel. It was somehow more spacious on the inside than outside but hardly comfortable at that, barely enough room for the four of us, cramped as we were, and having no idea what we were doing. Well, for three of us at least.

The learning curve was bound to take some time, but for our tank commander, I imagined it was an agonizing wait.

"Apply spark to the ignition fuse," Gan said before turning to ensure his crewmate had heard. "Gunji. Fuse."

The boy nodded, retrieving the matchbox from his pack that was on his belt, wearing a uniform that was significantly different from Gan's, Dojai's, and mine, more befitting his role as our mechanic.

He grabbed the match, and moved to strike it across the box. There were a few sparks, but none took to flame. He gave up on the match, as anybody would, and tried with a new one, striking it across the box, but too hard this time. It snapped, breaking into two halves.

Private first class Dojai groaned from the passenger seat while Gunji now struggled with his third match. Continuing to mess up like this wouldn't go well for us. We were being watched, not just by Dojai, but by Colonel Chaasa and the rest of the 62nd's command as well. The smallest mistake here could put us, could put me in more jeopardy than already I was in. I let a hand to my side subtly raise, and placed my attention on the matchstick Gunji now held.

He eyed it as though willing it to spark, and, in a way, it would, but not without some help. A single flick of my fingers, and the match came to life right in Gunji's hand. It was fortunate that none took notice of it other than Gunji, who recoiled back from the surprise of it before calming down and giving me a thankful nod that I returned.

The fuse was lit, the boiler shut, and a small glow began to grow from the back of the tank. It grew in strength, intensity, the pressure within the boiler still building.

"What's pressure like, Gunji?" Gan asked.

"3 psi and climbing," Gunji responded.

"Tell me when we're at ten," Gan said, leaning back.

Dojai, no doubt displeased with the length of time this was taking, commented, "We're lagging behind standards."

"It's our first run at this," Gan said defensively. "Still working out the kinks."

"You should've had this worked out before even stepping foot inside one of these."

Would that we could. We were on a crash course, learning what supposedly took about half a year to master in the span of a few months. It was a miracle we hadn't yet found a way to blow the tank up along with ourselves.

"Hell are they teaching you at this academy anyway?" Dojai pursued.

"How to kill earthbenders, sir."

"10 psi!" Gunji announced, and just in time too.

"Unseal water tanks," Dojai said before Gan could do so on his own volition, as though intent on ensuring that all three of us were reminded of who the tank's commander was.

All the same, slight aside, Gan did as he was bid, and unsealed the water tanks, meaning that the boiling water's steam would now begin to turn the turbines within the engine. Now all that was required was one last initiation, and…

"Start engine," Dojai said again, and just like that, following Gan's input, the tank around us began to hum to life. The different mechanical pieces all within our vehicle began to move. Emergency lights turned on, the dashboard revealed itself, and the world itself began to shake around us as though we were in the belly of some gargantuan beast, forcing me to hold onto my seat in the gunner bay as I was, fearful I might fall out of it with the racket around me.

"Good work," the private first class said, at the very least not incapable of the occasional praise when earned "Primary test for today," he resumed, "will be for fuel economy. Take us around the circumference of the wall. See how far we can get before requiring a refill."

The 'vehicle test' was a 'two birds, one stone' type situation as it was both the vehicle's limits and capabilities being tested as much as it was one of our capabilities in handling it. By testing the vehicle's limits, we too were familiarizing ourselves with the proper functionings of the great beast that continued to roar around us.

We went through with the test as intended, the present load of coal lasting us about a fifth to a fourth of the inner city's circumference until we could begin to hear the engine sputtering, signaling that it was nearing the peak of its capacity before it would need more fuel added to the fire.

"We empty?" Gan asked, prompting Gunji to open the boiler. COnsidering how dim the glow had become from the rear of the tank, I'd have assumed as much, the emergency gaslights providing what minimal illumination we now had within.

Gunji confirmed my suspicions, saying, "Just about."

"And how much was loaded?" Dojai asked, pulling a small pad of parchment from his belt to begin logging the results.

"27 pounds, sir."

"And our distance traveled?" Dojai asked again, now speaking to Gan who studied the odometer in front of him.

"Starting measure was 1,233. Completing measure, 1,456. That is-"

"223 miles!" chimed in Gunji, hardly needed as indicated by a groan that both Gan and Dojai actually shared while I played devil's advocate and gave our tank engineer an encouraging thumbs up.

"223 miles," Dojai muttered to himself, making scribbles that I could identify over his shoulder. "27 pounds…" I could see his math as he was doing it, and the small mistake that he'd made that would skew his results. I hardly needed the pen and paper. I'd done math similar tougher than thi enough times to at least work out something of an accurate account in my head.

Rather than wait for him to mess up, I chose to help our tank commander save some face, and said, "About eight and a quarter, sir."

And he snapped. "I already have Gunji shouting out numbers at me. I don't need my gunner doing the same."

And he turned back around, quickly noticed the difference between our numbers, and after fact-checking himself, scribbled out his own work, and replaced it with my conclusion.

I kept my grin to myself.

It was the first test of many that we would be conducting with FNMBT-03E0197. Gan, Gunji, and I had all shared the idea of giving it a name that rolled better off the tongue, but Dojai advised us against it, but not for the usual buzzkill reasons, mind you.

"A tank is christened on the battlefield. Not inside a training center."

And for once, we could agree with him.

It didn't stop Gan and Gunji from sharing their frustrations about him during training though. Normally, I would have been opposed to the distraction, but frankly, I needed it.

Match had come back that day following the conclusion of the 122nd's lunch period. He still wore a bandage around half of his face–the half that I'd damned near burned off.

He'd avoided eye contact with me as he entered, more on account of his bandages and where they were around his left eye than simply paying me no heed. He would find no solace with the rest of his old Rat buddies, however. Match's old bunk had since been occupied by a newcomer who the Rats had greeted with open arms.

The barracks were silent during the encounter that ensued, or rather, lack thereof. And I, well, I'd been holding my breath since he'd re-entered.

Aden made no complaint, he made no fuss. Not as Aden would have done. He only turned, and found somewhere else to settle down.

Now I was positive that he did notice Danev, Aden, and me. Though he expressed some surprise at seeing Aden, there was an otherwise apparent lack of reaction. Or at least, lack of spite. All the same, however, his was a presence that did little to put me at ease when already I was plagued by voices in the night, required to keep a secret from one of my only remaining friends that could get me killed, and for some reason or another hiding my true name from the very people who prepared to send me out to war.

So I welcomed Gunji and Gan's musings.

"Got my doubts that grass-fed idiot's ever actually been inside one of those tanks 'fore today," Gan said.

"Hell you talking about?" Gunji retorted. "Big bad tank commander like him? Course he has?"

"Yeah? What action he's seen then?"

I knew where Gunji was going with this, and took the opportunity to jump in and tag team with him, answering, "Why, the drive over here of course."

The jest was met with with laughter shared amongst the three of us that likely would have gone on for some time too had it not been interrupted by Danev saying, "You girls gonna keep on gossipping or actually be productive?"

"Got something 'gainst girls, Danev?" Ele, of the 114th's Bat platoon asked from where she was sparring with wooden swords against Mi of Dragon.

She was trying to throw him off guard, of course, but wouldn't be met with success, Danev smoothly enough recovering to say, "Only the ones who talk big while still holding their weapons wrong."

Ele looked down at her hand to realize how off her form was, likely knocked into a poor position during her training without realizing. A few scattered chuckles picked up at her expense while she adjusted her grip and my little trio got back into practice mode, engaging against one another in a 1v1v1 type of duel in which we would need to always be watching our backs. We considered it appropriate practice for when things got messy enough on the battlefield that the distinctions between friend and foe became muddied.

It was probably the largest group that'd gathered thus far for one of Danev's "informal" training sessions that had now started to become a norm for a good sum of slumdog trainees of the 29th Brigade. Many had fallen into the groove of things rather easily while Aden, for one, still had difficulty adjusting. He'd been up for a little over a week and still, every step he took, every punch he threw, every thing he said was done clumsily with no shortage of apprehension behind it.

I felt sorry for him, in truth, especially when it proved to be that we would be getting more visitors.

"So this is the recruit-led training we all heard so much about," a voice came from the gym entrance. Female, and one I recognized.

Mykezia!

My head instantly turned towards her, prompting a strike to my back from Gunji's wooden sword before he too found his eyes drawn to the woman entering now with plenty of other trainees I recognized from my time in Jeong Jeong's training. Other first batchers.

It seemed she noticed me too upon her entrance, as did a few of the others, but my eyes were primarily on hers as she gave a small smile and nodded before turning back to Danev, who readily presented himself as the head of this little assortment of eager recruits.

"Got room for a few more?"

Danev turned towards the latest arrivals and leaned forward against his wooden sword for effect, saying, "The more, the merrier. We're all street rats here at the end of the day."

"Well if you still believe that," Mykezia scoffed teasingly, passing by Danev before retrieving a wooden blade of her own, "then we've got some corrections to make."

And that they did. When it was said that us trainees had fallen into a groove of things, it was truth. We had grown comfortable with our training, and perhaps too much. Some fresh blood, more experienced, more trained, and more prideful was just what was needed to spice things up, and that it did.

They made quick work of most of us. Mano, dominating in heavy-weight CQC was bested by Fahin, practically his match in weight and size. Hilan, doing rather well for himself the way of dancing around his opponents and wearing them out in swordplay, was outmaneuvered by Sheshin, a first batcher in the 62nd armored, same as me. Danev too, having previously been matching and exceeding all others in hand-to-hand combat, was beaten by Mykezia in a match that drew no shortage of eyes, mine hardly an exception.

But when it was her hand that offered him a way back up, he took it, and it was clear that the new blood was welcomed.

It was a challenge that was more than worth accepting, and all the more pressure to improve ourselves just if it meant putting the first-batchers in their place. So while Mykezia battled a combined force of Eraim, Luhing, and Gan, I found myself pitted against Fahin. Probably twice my size and likely triple my weight, smaller only than Mano, the match should have been an easy one for him, only that I'd learned to take advantage of my assets, namely a speed which'd been developed over the years in the city.

One attack or the other from him, I dodged them all, and sooner rather than later, he was worn out, easy to strike, far easier to hit, and his fall to the ground was one that sent a rumble across the gym, attracting no shortage of cheers from others around me that brought an involuntary smile to my face as I wiped the brow from my forehead.

The only downside was that Mykezia hadn't been watching when it'd been done.

Damnit.

Hardly everybody though found the new arrivals to be very welcome, and among these few was Aden, who clung to a corner keeping mostly to himself. I don't know what'd drawn him out, but a crowd had gathered around where he and Sheshin had come to blows. The way it seemed, the sentiment of the fight was hardly shared. Sheshin seemed to think this just a regular sparring match while something on Aden's face, pure and unadulterated rage, told a different story. Then again, I'd never known him to be one not to get pissy when a training session stopped going his way.

And while the sense of sportsmanship was hardly shared between the two, I couldn't help but cheer for Aden as the two brawled, wanting him to be able to claim a victory for himself for one.

Aden's moves with his wooden sword were clumsy. He charged forward, and Sheshin easily sidestepped, tripping Aden with his own blade.

Aden fell, tumbling to the ground, but quickly rose again as Sheshin effortlessly re-entered a ready stance.

Aden charged again, but didn't not make the same mistake this time, instead managing to come to blows with his opponent. Wood knocked against wood, and though Aden had more strength behind his, Sheshin had more mobility, and was so able to redirect Aden's blows that victory was his once again.

That did not stop Aden though. I cheered him on as time and time again he tried his luck, but time and time again failed, his latest perhaps his most humiliating, his very sword plucked from his hands and used to knock him to his feet.

Sheshin tossed Aden's blade back to the ground to his defeated opponent's feet.

"Come on, Sheshin," Mykezia's voice came from the crowd. "Think it's about time you bully someone else?"

Sheshin turned to face his speaking comrade, and answered, "I'm good to stop when he is. It's his call when to-"

He shouldn't have turned his back. He hardly could have anticipated the blow of a wooden sword to the back of his head, swift enough and hard enough that the splintering of wood could be heard. Or was it bone?

Sheshin fell, and Aden raised his sword for another blow against the boy who now bled from the back of his head before Danev rushed forward, knocking his fellow Hornet back and against the wall, pinning him there.

The crowd that'd gathered now backed away, unsure where to focus: on Danev and Aden, or on the Sheshin who slowly bled on the ground.

"Drop it!" Danev demanded of Aden, referring to the blade.

"He started it!" Aden spat, though it made no difference to Danev.

"Now!"

Eyes drawn to Danev, to the crowd that had backed away, and to me, the second closest person to him aside from Danev who hadn't moved from my spot, realized the nature of the room, against him, and so allowed his blade to fall to the ground.

Danev kicked it aside, though maintained his grip on Aden's arms, now pulling him away from the wall, not met anymore with the slightest opposition. I could hardly tell if it was because he knew he'd done something wrong, or if because even he was smart enough to tell the room was against him. As he was escorted out though, his eyes did fall on me at one point, in an almost pleading fashion, as though looking for somebody to stand up for him.

I almost felt bad that I couldn't.

"Check on Sheshin!" Danev demanded of the room, referring to nobody in particular, but still, closest to the scene of the action, I allowed my focus to shift on Sheshin instead where he was lying on the ground, groaning, not dead. Thank the spirits.

I checked the back of his head. The blood was there, but not much more was flowing. Blunt force trauma, obviously, but no deep lacerations. A concussion though, that was very likely.

My analysis of the body, however, was interrupted by two pairs of arms lifting him from where he lay, belonging to the resident strongmen of our training room–Mano and Fahin.

"We'll get him to Oreke," Mano said, nodding to me as he walked past. I returned the nod as the two left, leaving the room in a clear uncomfortable silence resulting from what'd just happened. Nobody quite knew what to say, all wishing right now that it hadn't been Danev to leave, but thankfully, he wasn't the only one who knew how to take initiative.

"Alright!" Mykezia called out. "Drama's over! Back to beating the shit out of each other!"

It was a rousing enough wake up call as any, and slowly but surely, the room returned to normalcy, though still I stood where it'd happened, looking at the same splotch of blood on the ground that'd been a result of Aden's handiwork.

And that was just from ten minutes of being beat, I realized, my mind drifting to what Danev had said. And if he finds out about the Hornets, what happened to them, and the role I played in it all…

"Hey," a voice came, distracting me from my thoughts at just the right moment. It was Mykezia, and I turned to face her, wooden sword in either hand, tossing one towards me.

I caught it.

"Up for a match?" she asked, a smile on her face that was just the very thing I needed in that moment.

It hardly mattered that I lost all but one time, and that single time being because I'd managed to disarm her using shaoling, a feat she gladly commended. I was just glad to get my mind off of Aden, the voice, the Fire Nation, everything.

But when night came again eventually, and it was lights out in the barracks, that changed as it always did.

Danev and Aden were back in their respective bunks. I had little way of knowing what'd transpired between them after they'd left, but it seemed that our old friend was pacified for the moment. It'd have to do.

Sleep wouldn't come that night, and not merely on account of nerves, but because it came again–the voice–and it was not subtle this time. Today, it was something different.

"Wake up, Aegis," the voice called, and I did.

I would open my eyes to light, but not that of the gas lamps that were embedded in the ceiling, but rather, a faint glow that emanated from the hallway. I'd forgotten just what it was that'd awoken me until the voice came again, and it spoke as clear as day, "Follow."

The barracks were dead quiet, all within asleep, our usual guard detachment now merely watching the entrance of the barracks which, for some reason, was now wide open as indicated by the line glowing beyond.

Why is it open? Why do I see no Fire Nation soldiers beyond?

I lowered myself from my bunk, curious, and so followed the light. Past dozens of lines of occupied and dormant bunks I stalked to the entrust, past the entrance, and so found it still devoid of Fire Nation guards.

The hallway that ended here at the barracks and extended deeper into the Citadel Military complex structure was empty but nor for myself, and a single faint glow that'd shifted positions from the entrance, to somewhere further beyond.

I followed once again.

Faint though it was, I could make out color to it: white with wisps of light blue.

Further it took me, out of the hallway, to the stairwell, down, and into a new set of corridors, the light disappearing as soon as I reached it only to be replaced with another, deeper down.

I couldn't help but question if this was a trap, some Fire Nation plot to lure me out to be captured, but whenever it was that I hesitated, that I paused, that I doubted myself, so came the voice again, bidding me "follow."

I was as low as the stairway took me now, stuck in a maze of corridors that I could scarcely recognize until the light brought me to a service hatchway, for some reason or another left ajar, the light glowing just beyond.

And sooner rather than later, in I was, crawling through a maintenance hatchway with pipeworks and maintenance panels to either side of me. Then it was that the light appeared below me now, at the bottom of a ladder that I took down to a segment devoid of inner workings, but what appeared more instead a catacomb. No, not a catacomb.

I'm in the sewers.

So it was that I was in the inner city portion of the sewers, cordoned off from the outer city lest some wandering street rat somehow wander from their world to ours, and much more at that, the center of the Fire Nation's military institution. The light was still present, leading me down now deeper, past a bend, and so when I followed, it stopped.

There was no light further down the tunnel, but the glow remained from a point I couldn't quite discern. To either direction I turned down the hallway, cold and damp in relation to the rest of the base which still suffered the brunt of summer, I saw nothing.

When I faced the wall, however, there it was again, faint white and blue, in the very cracks of the surface. Only, the cracks weren't natural, instead in an ornate pattern. There was nothing to them beyond that, however, no characters to be read. I wondered if it may be a map of these tunnels, but there was no sense of where the beginning was nor where the end lay, the lit cracks extending to the ground.

I placed my hand between the cracks, feeling the stone, pushing, nothing. I brought my hand as well to the space next to it, and pushed, knocked, met with a pain against my knuckles that I endured as well as a dull thud. I continued to knock against the brick, slowly moving my hand to the side, to the space between the lit cracks, when the sound changed, empty, hollow.

It was a false wall.

I tried to push. There was nothing.

What the hell am I doing here? I knocked again. That same hollow sound. There was something beyond, but what?

"Going to help me out here?" I asked nobody in particular, hoping perhaps for an answer to my query. There was none. None right away at least.

"Slightest clue how to get past this maybe?"

The background noise of rat paws clattering against the stone and shallow water of the sewers went silent, as did the white noise, all going still for the moment it took for the voice to pick up again, and answer, "The way to open it is already yours."

I looked back at the wall as the sound of the real world picked up again, and the light in the cracks drew inward, towards a single point. Something about it drew me in, and so I placed my palm against the point.

This is fucking idiotic, I thought to myself, but then considered just what would happened if I left here. For some reason or another, the Fire Nation would still want me, still be after me, and I'd have no answers. It was something here, or I was fucked.

As such, I let the energy flow, and allowed for a flame to form at my palm, and the cracks of the wall lit up again, though not with the same sickly white-blue glow, but one of my own instead-bright, orange, red, and yellow.

The wall began to shift as I pulled my hand away, and so too did it move, opening for me not to reveal a full passageway as I might have anticipated, but a single small alcove, just big enough for a cat to crawl inside. There was no such animal hiding within though, leaving for me instead only what appeared to be a single, bound, stack of papers.

What the hell?

I reached forward, grabbing the stack that I feared may fall apart in my hand if it weren't so expertly bound with orange and yellow thread. It was covered in a yellow of dust that took a swift blow and brush of my hand to unveil the title waiting beneath on the first page. There was none, only blank parchment waiting for me.

I opened past the cover sheet, and there was the writing I waited for, starting as simple as anything could:

"It has been seven years that I've hidden, and finally do I believe that I have been caught.

"I pray that what I write now does not fall into the wrong hands, but I have seen to it that the odds are good that it shall not be found by any others than those meant to. She made me that promise.

"As the years go by, and my own memory of what I ate for breakfast becomes more difficult to grasp onto with each passing day, it is still a miracle to me that I remember my first day in this city, so consumed by smoke and fire, yet providing me with the perfect chance to enter and embed myself where I otherwise would never have been able to work my way inside undetected."

What followed was a history, biography, a confession, whatever one wanted to call it. I couldn't tell if it was fiction or truth, but its place down here, in some dark a crevice told me the latter. What was bemused curiosity at first became sincere interest as the pages went by.

They were limited, years passing in the span of only a few pages, and the details were limited, talking of this man, yet unnamed, and his time spent within the inner city, joining the Fire Nation, hiding in their ranks, hiding something, somebody, in the outer city.

He said that the name he had chosen for himself to hide was Lee Shuni. Where have I heard that name before, I wondered, something about it sounding vaguely familiar, but I continued:

"Every day, I fear for his safety, and I spend every week in anticipation of the day that I may hear from the outside once again. Correspondence remains difficult, but there are those in the slums who remain sympathetic, who I know I can rely on. Here in the inner city, those past the inner walls are distrusted at worst, pitied at best, but scarcely trusted. Yet still, I manage to find more people in those slums that are deserving of admiration, trust, and respect than those in this supposed 'bastion of civilization.'

"Because the man I have come to trust, this Mishi, he has done more for me, and for him than I ever could have done on my own."

What? I thought to myself, requiring myself to read past that line again. And that it was, the name I recognized all too well, that of the man I betrayed. But who's 'him?'

There was a chance I already knew, but still I kept on reading, past ways that this Lee Shuni, or so he went by, cleansed himself of guilt, hid himself, played his role, acted the good Fire Nation soldier however long he needed to, and so I came closer to the end, each page becoming harder to turn as more began to show itself to move, still unnerved by the large stretches of page left blank between other stretches of writing, as though the man writing had decided to insert illustrations, but forgotten.

It mattered little, because soon enough, he'd started to realize that the Fire Nation was onto him, that his time was up either because he'd been seen, ratted on, or otherwise compromised in a way he didn't know. So, I arrived at the last page, and it read:

"I've spoken to her one last time, and she has promised me that when I pass, the boy will still be safe. Though I am afraid, I must believe in her words because when it is all over, I must remember that my death is a casualty, but his, it would be a tragedy.

"The Avatar has disappeared from our world, and until he returns, the boy I look after, Aegis, our shield, is our last, best hope.

"I pray we were not mistaken."

–Gyani

And there it ended, with a name that I knew I recognized, one spoken where this had all began, on the day I'd seen too much, the day the Hornets had abducted me, and the day I'd witnessed his execution. Gyani, so-called Lee Shuni, traitor of the Fire Nation, one of the last remaining Air Nomads.

What?

Looking out for me.

How?

Keeping me safe.

Why?

Alongside Mishi.

It's not possible.

For nearly all my life.

"What," I asked, trying to figure how to continue, my voice breaking and stammering as I tried to push through to let the words out. "What am I looking at?"

And finally, the communique was no longer one way, and so the voice spoke.

"Something you must see."

The glow was back, formless, but still appearing before me, its presence unmistakable.

"It's bullshit!" I countered instinctively. "I'm not," They'd called me their 'last, best hope.' "I'm not who they think I am! They have me confused for somebody else. I'm not…!"

"You are."

"What then?!" I shouted. "What am I?!"

There was a pause. "It isn't the time for you to learn that yet, but you will."

"Then who are you?!" I asked. "You talk to me in my dreams for years, you lead me down here, you're probably the reason the Fire Nation wants me, so who are you?! Some spirit?"

"Me. I am Raava."

That name, there was something that almost rang familiar, but it was nothing I recognized. So why does it sound so familiar?

"I…who?"

"I am the Avatar spirit, keeper of balance in my world and yours."

The Avatar spirit? "But…that text, it said it itself. The Avatar's gone. What do…what do you want with me?"

"The Avatar is gone from your world, yes, but hope remains. There are still those who have a role to play, and you are one of these."

"What? What are you talking about? The Avatar, he's gone isn't he? Dead? Reincarnated somewhere? That's how it works, right?"

There was a pause, the light before me ever constant, pondering, thinking.

"What has come of the Avatar," she finally said. "I cannot say."

"You mean…you don't know? Or…you just won't tell me?"

"What you must know only is the danger you are in, and that you must not stay with those who seek to bring the world to ruin."

"The Fire Nation?" I scoffed. "I don't know if you've noticed, but they've won. Only one major holdout remains. If this is the 'ruin' you're talking about, it's done! There's nothing I, nor you can do!"

"In the dark times, should the stars also go out?"

To that, I had no answer, and so she, this voice, this 'Raava' continued.

"I cannot stay. My tie to you is limited, and it will not last; not as you are now. You will be without my help soon. There are few you can trust within these walls."

"Who then?"

"Find the master who has taught you thus far."

"Jeong Jeong?"

"And leave while you still can," she continued, as though not hearing my question. "Should you stay, there is no telling what imbalance the world may yet be subjected to."

"And me?" I asked, wondering just what on earth was in mind for me. It seemed, however, that her scope was a tad more limited than mine. I could already hear footsteps. It seemed that I hadn't evaded them forever. My heart began to race.

"I can help you return to the others unseen, but you must not stay. Your time runs short. Protect yourself, Aegis. Protect the balance."

And as quick as she had come, she was now gone, the color of her light fading like wisps of smoke into the air, through the ceiling, gone. My hand reached out for her as faded sinews of light evaporated between my fingers, and I was left alone there with a task that had been thrust upon me, and a million more questions than I had come here with in the first place.

Captain Zar'un

"We're drawing in our date of departure," Major General Deming announced to me for the second time now after I'd already asked him to clarify himself once.

"But," I said, "the brigade is still slated to train for another two months. Nearly three."

"They'll get two weeks instead," Deming said. "The Dragon of the West seeks to engage in as many battles and win as much glory as he can before my division enters the fight."

I knew precisely the news he was referring to–that of General Iroh's latest victory over Earth Kingdom soldiers. One would have thought that fellow men of the Fire Nation would be elated by such news and the fact that the war had just become that much closer to ending, but a man such as Deming put some beliefs to rest.

That wasn't the only news that'd come in with the latest caravan. There was word from home, the mainland, the colonies, even some personal correspondence for our bending instructors: investment offers for Xin Fu, and a letter from a lieutenant Zhao of General Shu's Western Armada.

He's one to talk about selfish glory, I thought, saying nothing of that sort of course. Granted, what I chose to say wasn't much wiser, bringing up, "But if the reports are accurate, your division did enter the fighting. The 64th division was essential in distracting the Earth Kingdom's attention. Under Colonel Choro of course."

Major General Deming glared, and it became quite clear that I'd found the nerve to strike, and the source of what was this hasty decision. "He has stepped out of line. My presence on the battlefield is needed to restore order and ensure the men of my division are not being used to win himself personal glory."

So you can do it yourself.

"What is colonel Eemusan's perspective on this?" I asked. The 29th brigade was his after all, and it'd been him who'd been personally monitoring their training. "Does he believe the latest batch of recruits ready for deployment?"

"Eemusan rarely sees the bigger picture. Where the soldiers are in their training now, where they will be a month from now, it makes little difference. The battle of Ba Sing Se is reaching a turning point and the time to reinforce our comrades and seize the momentum is now!"

That was a complete lie. Deming could try spinning it that way if he pleased, but he simply wanted to ensure there were still some battles left for him to win by the time he got there. It was a fool's errand. He would do more harm than good.

And besides, I realized as well. Aegis is still somewhere among them.

"I'm afraid I must protest," I said. "For the sake of the Fire Nation more than my own. The timeframe for our men to be trained is already limited as it is, especially in consideration of bringing them to an elementary level of education. To expedite the process more than we already have could prove to be a critical flaw."

"I appreciate your advisement, Captain," the Major General said, more than likely lying through his teeth. "But I am afraid that for the sake of our country, I will be leading my troops to Ba Sing Se in a fortnight. This way too, we may properly entrench ourselves before Fall's end, and have breached the outer wall before Winter comes."

Does he really believe that his reinforcements will be the straw that breaks the Earth Kingdom's back? That his few thousand extra men and leadership will be what accomplishes what the Dragon of the West has not yet done in half a year of time? Frankly, it was amazing that even after half a year, Prince and Heir Apparent, General Iroh, was still winning major victories against the city's defenders. A siege such as this would not be won with a few thousand men more, Deming had to know that.

Of course he does! He just wants to score some flashy victories against what Earth Kingdom forces are still brave enough to leave their walls before they really begin to hide inside and the real siege begins.

At the end of the day though, the men were his, and I wasn't holding them nor him captive in Citadel. He could leave whenever he pleased, which meant I didn't have much time left to find this boy.

"Very well," I said through my teeth, conceding the point. "Then I will pray that these next few weeks prove to create the finest soldiers the Fire Nation has ever produced."

"Don't you worry about my men, Captain. They'll get the job done."

Even he was done pretending they would be anything to write home about.

He stood, and we exchanged formalities before he left. I didn't have time to sit before Zhorou's voice picked up beyond the door. "Lieutenant Zarrow is here to see you, sir."

I didn't even bother setting my butt down on my chair, standing up again just as quickly.

"Thank the spirits," I muttered under my breath before ordering my ward to allow him in. Please tell me you have something of use.

The lieutenant was holding something beneath his arm as he entered, only speaking once the door behind him closed, and immediately at that, only pausing to salute before saying, "Captain. I believe we found our suspect."

Thank the spirits.

"Speak," I said at once, done with formalities, but needing to hear what he had right away.

"Last night, one left the barracks in the dead of night. We pursued him from a distance."

"Where did he go?"

"We followed him down into the lower levels of the military complex, into the maintenance tunnels, and down into the sewers."

"The sewers? Was he trying to escape?"

Lieutenant Zarrow shook his head. "The military complex sewers are cordoned off from the rest with their own irrigation route. None lead to other tunnels. There's no escape there."

I nodded my head. "Who then? Which of the trainees? One of the benders?"

That was where Zarrow paused before confessing, "We don't yet know, sir."

What?

"What do you mean you don't know. Was he not apprehended?" Are they waiting for more? But then how would they not know?

"We sent in men after him, sir, but, somehow, he evaded us."

"Evaded you? Didn't you say there were no other exits?"

"None that we were aware of, sir. It's possible the old structure has tunnels we were not aware of, but the morning roster told us all were accounted for. He didn't escape. He's back with the rest, whoever he is."

"So what you're telling me is that we've learned nothing?"

"Not nothing, sir." And with that, he placed out that which was beneath his arms, a stack of bound parchment.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Gyani's personal records. So, if our 'Aegis' didn't know we were after him before, he does now."