[Morning, Republic City's Central District]
The city was alive with its usual morning chaos: vendors shouting to advertise goods, tram bells clanging as they wove through bustling streets, and the chatter of countless voices blending into the urban symphony. Republic City was always moving, always alive.
In the midst of it all was a young man with his left arm in a cast, weaving through the throng with a calm stride, as if he wasn't already late.
ZHEN
AGE: 19
STATUS: En route to City Hall
Zhen had just finished escorting Korra to her Pro-bending practice. The boat ride had been laced with an awkward tension—Korra's thoughts clearly lingering on their conversation from the previous night. Despite her subtle glances and hesitant attempts at small talk, Zhen remained outwardly unfazed. Whether he truly didn't notice or simply couldn't grasp the weight of her unease was anyone's guess.
Now, however, it was his turn to focus on business. He was making his way to meet with Councilman Tarrlok, whose relentless persistence had become something of a trademark. Today's discussion would revolve around the next steps in the forming of the Task Force—a discussion Zhen was already late for as he walked toward City Hall.
Why is he walking? Because in a moment of careless haste, he'd left his wallet behind. Without money for a tram or cab, he had no choice but to hoof it across the city. He only noticed this mistake partway across the waters but decided it wasn't worth turning back. He had, however, grossly underestimated the distance to City Hall.
'This crap is so itchy…' he thought, adjusting the sling supporting his injured arm.
As he irritably fidgeted with the strap, Zhen barely noticed he'd arrived at the base of City Hall's grand staircase. He paused, sighing as he looked up at the imposing building.
After a moment's hesitation, he climbed the stairs, only to be stopped at the entrance by a gray-haired man in formal attire.
"COUNCIL PAGE"
AGE: 56
STATUS: Council Page
"You're late" the man said, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses with a disapproving frown.
"Sorry, got caught up with something else," Zhen replied casually. Though his apology was as half-hearted as his smile.
The page didn't seem amused. "Councilman Tarrlok left for other business. He asked me to pass along tasks for you to handle for a few days"
He reached into his coat, pulling out a neatly folded note and handed it to Zhen.
Zhen unfolded it, scanning the contents. His brow furrowed as he glanced at the man after reading it.
"A gala?" he asked, his tone skeptical. "I thought the meeting was supposed to be for the Task Force"
"It was" the page replied curtly. "But the Councilman said your involvement isn't necessary at this stage. He ordered that you prioritize preparations for the gala instead."
Zhen frowned, stuffing the note into his pocket. "I'll see to it. Then again, what's the gala for?"
"For the Avatar, naturally" the page replied, almost dismissively.
He quickly closed the door behind him, leaving Zhen standing alone on the steps.
'Prick…' Zhen thought to himself, his eyes narrowing as he turned away.
The unexpected shift in his plans didn't sit well with him, but he couldn't do much about it now.
With a sigh, he pulled a note from his pocket once more, his fingers brushing over the paper.
As he read the first line, he muttered under his breath. "This one should be easy"
Invite Future Industries.
————————————————————————————
[Afternoon, Downtown District, Future Industries' Headquarters]
While Korra and Zhen busied themselves elsewhere in the city, we turn our attention to one of Republic City's most dynamic enterprises—Future Industries.
One of the city's most prominent conglomerates, Future Industries had revolutionized technology in nearly every sector, from automobiles to groundbreaking innovations. Though the company's roots were firmly planted in the manufacturing of Satomobiles, it had since grown into a powerhouse of technological advancement.
Inside one of its sprawling workshops, the air was alive with the noise of progress. Sparks flew from welding stations, the rhythmic clatter of tools echoed off the walls, and researchers crowded around prototypes, scribbling notes and making adjustments. Mechanics worked diligently to repair vehicles, while engineers hovered over blueprints, fine-tuning designs for the next invention.
Tss–tss-tss!
In one of the bustling workstations, sparks flew as a mechanic worked intently, welding a set of intricate pipes. The rhythmic hiss of the torch filled the air, the glow of molten metal illuminating the expression beneath the protective mask.
"Miss Sato?"
But their focus wavered slightly at the sound of their name.
A cautious researcher approached, stepping carefully to avoid the cascade of sparks.
The welder paused, lifting their mask. Despite the sweat glistening on their brow, their sharp eyes carried a calm intensity.
ASAMI SATO
AGE: 18
STATUS: Vice-Head of Future Industries
"What is it?" she asked, setting the torch aside and inspecting the piping with a practiced eye.
The researcher adjusted their glasses nervously, watching as Asami made a few precise tweaks to her project. "I didn't mean to interrupt, but your father is asking for you at the front office. He says it's urgent"
Asami paused, her brow furrowing slightly as she echoed. "Dad did?"
Brushing her gloves against her work apron, she glanced at the project in front of her. "Alright, let him know I'll be on my way. I just need to wrap this up."
She removed her protective mask, setting it carefully on the table as she grabbed a screwdriver from her tools.
The researcher hesitated for a moment, then added "He seemed quite insistent that you come immediately"
Asami let out a small sigh, setting down her tool and wiping her hands with a cloth.
"Alright, I'll head over." she said, her voice showing a hint of annoyance despite its gentle tone.
The researcher gave a quick nod, relief evident as they turned to leave. Asami cast a final glance at her work, her hand brushing lightly over the surface as if to say goodbye, before turning away to leave.
She didn't have far to go. Navigating through the maze of workshops, she passed technicians hunched over machinery, workers moving heavy equipment, vehicles rumbling by, loaded with cargo.
Her destination was a smaller, cleaner office building nestled in the center of it all. Though modest in size compared to the sprawling workshops, it was just as busy.
Stepping inside, Asami greeted the office staff with a smile and a polite nod, keeping her usual pace as she made her way toward the main office at the end of a hall.
Once at the door, she paused and knocked firmly.
Knock. Knock.
"It's me" she announced, her voice calm but expectant.
Silence.
She waited for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly, then knocked again—this time with a touch more urgency.
Knock. Knock.
"Dad?" she called, her tone now tinged with concern as she pressed her ear closer to the door.
She could make out a faint conversation from the other side.
"I… …id… n…"
The first voice, unmistakable—her father.
"Sh… …re…y …volv…"
And the second voice, muffled and unfamiliar.
"...ot …et"
The words were fragmented, floating just out of reach of her understanding. Asami's hand hovered on the door handle, trying to catch more of the conversation, her curiosity gnawing at her.
With a careful motion, she slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open—only for it to burst forward suddenly.
Wh-Oomph!
Caught off guard, Asami stumbled slightly, her balance momentarily off. Her face collided with something—soft, yet firm at the same time. It felt like fabric, but it stopped her momentum completely.
"Ah… what…" she muttered, rubbing her nose as she tried to steady herself.
Her hands pressed against something she'd bumped into, realizing it wasn't a wall or a piece of furniture—it was someone standing there.
"Who's this?" came a sharp voice, cold and cutting through the air.
Asami blinked, a bit dazed, then looked up—straight into a pair of piercing red eyes. The young man standing before her was striking, his long hair neatly tied back, and despite one of his arms being in a cast, his physique was clearly toned. But it was his gaze that held her captive—cold, intense, and almost predatory, locking onto hers.
For a heartbeat, she froze. A chill ran down her spine as his stare pinned her in place. The moment seemed to stretch, her mind caught in his gaze.
"Ah! Asami, glad you could join us"
Then, a deep, familiar voice broke her trance.
HIROSHI SATO
AGE: 50
STATUS: Founder of Future Industries
Her father stepped forward from behind the young man, a welcoming smile on his face. Without hesitation, he extended his arms and wrapped Asami in a firm, affectionate hug.
"Hi Dad" Asami said softly, her voice carrying warmth as she returned the embrace.
Hiroshi stepped back, still holding her shoulders for a moment.
"Come in. I'm glad you came when I called" Her father said warmly, guiding her further into the office. "I know you're busy, but this is important."
As they moved deeper into the office, Hiroshi turned and gestured toward the young man, who quietly closed the door behind them.
"Asami, This is Zhen" Hiroshi introduced, his tone shifting from familial warmth to a more formal one.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sato" Zhen said, giving a small bow.
His expression remained unreadable, but Asami noticed a brief flicker of curiosity behind his sharp eyes as they studied her before settling back into their neutral focus.
Gone was the air of intimidation he showed earlier, replaced by a strangely familiar unsettling emptiness—neither welcoming nor hostile, but disconcertingly neutral.
"Likewise" Asami replied, mirroring his gesture with a polite bow of her own.
"The president has told me all about you" Zhen continued, straightening. "He was quite… proud of having such an exceptional daughter."
"Dad…" Asami flushed, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. "This better not be one of your matchmaking attempts again."
Hiroshi let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Oh no, nothing of the sort. Zhen is here on business from the Council"
"I'm just here to pass along a message" Zhen said modestly, keeping his tone polite.
"Now, now" Hiroshi, however, waved a hand, dismissing the simplicity of Zhen's statement with practiced ease. "Even if it is Council matters, certain formalities should be observed, especially in matters involving Future Industries"
With a smooth gesture, Hiroshi indicated the seating area near his desk, where a single teacup was served on the small coffee table. "Why don't we sit down first? These things are better to be discussed properly"
Without waiting for an answer, Hiroshi made his way to his chair behind the desk, pausing to ensure Asami and Zhen took their seats first.
Asami hesitated for a moment, glancing at Zhen. He let out a faint sigh, a fleeting reluctance, but complied without resistance and moved toward one of the couches.
As he sat, Asami took the opportunity to study him more closely. Just now noticing the undeniable weariness in his eyes—a quiet fatigue that seemed at odds with his otherwise normal appearance.
She followed suit, settling into the chair across from him.
Hiroshi finally took his seat, his demeanor radiating hospitality and formality as he leaned forward on his desk slightly.
"Now" Hiroshi began, keeping his warm tone. "Why don't you tell us what you're here for"
Zhen settled into his seat with ease, leaning forward slightly, his elbow resting on his knees as he met Hiroshi's gaze directly.
"Less the Council and more just Councilman Tarrlok, really" he began, cutting straight to the point as he pulled out a card from his chest pocket. "He sends his invitation to you, the founder of Future Industries, for an upcoming gala he has planned in a couple days."
Asami glanced at her father, who appeared deep in thought, weighing the news carefully.
"If the invitation's for dad, why was I called?" she asked curiously, and also to keep the conversation going.
She was well aware that it often took her father a bit of time to make decisions, so she wanted to prevent the conversation from reaching a dead end as soon as it started.
Zhen's gaze shifted to her, and for a brief, unsettling moment, Asami braced herself for that same sharp, intense glare he had given her earlier. But to her surprise, his expression was normal, and he looked at her with a neutral gaze. It still had the edge to it, but nothing like the coldness she had expected.
"I… honestly don't know." Zhen admitted, his voice even, though there was a faint hint of irritation in his tone. "Your father said you needed to hear it as well, so he had you called"
"Of course, it's because you're involved" Hiroshi interjected smoothly, his tone shifting to one of certainty. He leaned back in his chair, folding his hand together as he continued. "As my daughter—and soon to be face of Future Industries—it is essential that you begin stepping up in a more visible way. Now that you're of proper age, it's time to start solidifying your presence in the business world"
Asami listened intently, her curiosity piqued by the shift in her father's demeanor. She tilted her head slightly, brows furrowing in thought.
"But I've been attending galas and parties with you since I was a kid" she pointed out, her calm voice tinged with confusion. "What's so different about this one?"
Hiroshi's expression sharpened, like a businessman who had found profit. "Because it will be attended by the most influential and powerful people in Republic City—people who can lead the future of business and politics"
He shifted in his seat slightly, placing his hands firmly on the desk as if to punctuate the seriousness of his words. "This is a prime opportunity for you to make connections that will be crucial for both you and the company"
Asami absorbed her father's words, her mind whirled in a mix of emotions. The weight of responsibility setted more heavily on her shoulder than she realized.
She had known this day would come, the day she would be expected to fully embrace her role as the future of the company. But hearing it spoken so plainly, so firmly, made it feel all the more real—and all the more daunting.
"I-I mean…" Asami stammered, the nerves gnawing at her.
She expected this moment, but now that it was here, the pressure immediately overwhelmed her. Her voice faltered as her thoughts tumbled over one another.
Click.
Just as she was lost in her thoughts, the soft sound of a cup being set down on the saucer interrupted her, drawing both her and her father's attention.
Zhen, seemingly unfazed by the pressure of the conversation, had just finished his tea. He leaned back casually on the couch, glancing toward Asami for a moment before landing his eyes to Hiroshi.
"Sorry if I interrupted the little father-daughter time" he said, his tone was smooth, though there was a sharp edge to his voice that kept the moment from becoming too comfortable. "But I still do need to know if you'll be attending or not, Mister Sato"
His question hung in the air, clearly pointed, cutting through the tension like a blade. Asami blinked, momentarily taken aback by the abruptness.
But then realization dawned.
Her father had spoken at length about his expectations and opportunities, but he had yet to provide Zhen with a clear answer.
"Well…" Hiroshi finally said, keeping his tone professional "That is a separate issue"
He leaned back slightly in his chair, clasping his hands together.
"You see, invitations to events of this caliber are usually extended well in advance. Receiving one on such short notice…" He paused briefly, his brow furrowing in a show of polite disapproval. "It complicates matters. Adjustments would need to be made—projects will be pushed back, appointments rescheduled. These are not decisions to take lightly"
Hiroshi's tone was composed, but there was a subtle undercurrent of annoyance, showing that the lack of forewarning had not gone unnoticed.
"It's unfortunate but understandable" Zhen's response came devoid of frustration or urgency. "I will take my leave then."
Without waiting for further discussion, Zhen stood up, bowing his head slightly in a gesture of respect.
This abruptness of his compliance caught Hiroshi off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless. It wasn't so often that someone disengaged so readily.
"Wait" Hiroshi called out, rising to his feet and stepping forward quickly. "Let's not rush things"
Before Zhen could reach the door, Hiroshi intercepted him, his hand firm yet non-confrontational as he guided him gently but decisively back toward the seating area.
"It's not like I'm outright declining the invitation" Hiroshi clarified, his tone shifting to one of reassurance. A faint smile played at his lips, a businessman's charm reasserting itself. "There's room for negotiation here, after all"
Zhen glanced over his shoulder at Hiroshi, his expression unreadable, though the slightest tilt of his head suggested he was listening.
"How about this?" Hiroshi began explaining, keeping a persuasive tone, one that has been used many times to make deals. "I can handle the appointments. Nothing a little conversation can't fix"
He gave Zhen's back a light pat, a genial gesture meant to encourage him to sit back down.
Zhen, however, remained standing, not really out of defiance but seemingly out of a lack of understanding of the implication.
"But the projects, now those are a different matter" Hiroshi continued, undeterred adjusting his approach as he spoke. "We've got a couple critical ones that need to be completed before the gala"
He paused briefly, his sharp eyes shifting between Zhen and Asami before landing on Zhen with an almost conspiratorial smile.
"How about this—I heard from Councilman Tarrlok that you're a smart man, let's say you assist my daughter in getting those done. In return, I will not only guarantee our attendance, but I'll personally ensure Tarrlok has my full support for that Task Force initiative he's been so keen on launching"
"Wait, Dad?!" Asami, who had been listening quietly the entire time, stood up to interject with surprise in her voice.
"Not now, Asami" But her father immediately shot her down, dismissing her completely.
The suggestion hung in the air, Hiroshi's eyes narrowing as he tried to gauge Zhen's reaction. He was a seasoned businessman, skilled at reading people, but to his surprise, Zhen's expression revealed… nothing. It was just an uncomfortable blank.
"Well? If that doesn't—" Hiroshi began, already pivoting to propose a different angle.
"I'll agree to it" Zhen interjected suddenly, his voice cutting through Hiroshi's attempts to shift tactics.
Hiroshi blinked, momentarily taken aback by the abrupt agreement.
"But" Zhen added, gesturing briefly down at his arm in its sling "Im' not sure how helpful I'll be… given the circumstances"
Hiroshi's eyes followed the motion, his gaze lingering on the injury for a moment before a small smile curved his lips.
"Challenges are where ingenuity shines, young man" he replied smoothly, giving Zhen a firm pat on the back. "Besides, the projects in question are mostly experimental prototypes. Won't be much heavy lifting to take care of."
Across from them, Asami folded her arms, exasperation evident in the sharp furrow of her brows. Meanwhile, Zhen simply inclined his head slightly, keeping his usual blank expression.
"Dad! You know how critical the stage I'm at is" Asami protested, her frustration slipping into her voice. "I can't afford mistakes that'll set me back—"
"Now, Asami" Hiroshi cut in, despite his tone showing patience, he left no room for argument.
"Consider this a test for you as well" he added, keeping things professional even as he spoke to his daughter. "A good business leader knows how to manage their employees effectively"
He turned to Zhen, a pleased smile forming as if the matter had already been settled in his mind. Without waiting for further input, he walked toward the door, his steps deliberate. As he reached the doorway, he paused, turning back to face his daughter one more time.
"He's yours for the day" Hiroshi said, gesturing toward Zhen. "Make use of him wisely"
With that, he stepped out of the office, leaving the door to swing shut behind him, leaving final words that could be felt as a challenge.
'Damn it…' Asami thought, rubbing her temples in frustration.
But her annoyance quickly faded as she turned her attention to Zhen.
To her surprise, he suddenly bowed his head, his tone soft yet apologetic.
"I'm… sorry?" He paused, clearly uncertain of his own words before continuing. "I can just go report to Councilman Tarrlok that Future Industries won't be attending if it bothers you, Ms. Sato"
Asami studied him for a moment, considering. It wasn't his fault—he was simply doing what he was tasked here to do. It'd be insensitive to just blame it on him.
She let out a quiet sigh, her irritation fading into a more measured acceptance.
"Don't be" she said, shaking her head slightly "It's fine"
A small smile tugged at her lips as she decided to just reset things.
"Let's start over, just call me Asami" Instead of a bow, she extended her hand toward him, the other casually flicking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile was genuine, warmer now.
"Zhen" he said simply, his tone maintaining its neutrality but more respectful as he reached to shake her hand. "It's… nice to meet you"
————————————————————————————
[Afternoon, Dragon Flats Borough]
With morning practice wrapped up, the Fire Ferrets went their separate ways—Mako heading straight to work and Korra returning to Air Temple Island for more training. That left only one member of the team wandering aimlessly.
BOLIN
AGE: 16
STATUS: Looking for work
"Stupid Mako…" he grumbled under his breath, kicking a loose pebble as he trudged through the square.
His brother had been extra overprotective ever since his run in with the Equalists, barely giving him room to breathe. After practice, instead of letting him search for jobs, Mako insisted he go straight back home.
"Oh Pabu!" Bolin stopped in his tracks, lifting the little Fire Ferret off his shoulder "You're the only one who understands me!"
Pabu blinked, his nose twitching as he tilted his head in confusion.
"What am I gonna do buddy?" Bolin asked, pressing the small creature against his cheek for comfort. "I can't just sit around doing nothing all day!"
Pabu, as usual, remained adorably clueless.
Bolin let out a long, exaggerated sigh before placing Pabu back on his shoulder. "Maybe I should just go back to the arena and take a nap"
He turned, ready to walk off, but as his foot lifted, a gentle tug on his arm stopped him mid-stride.
"Big brother?"
The voice was small, unfamiliar, and it caught him off guard. Bolin blinked, his attention shifting downward toward the source of the call.
AKAARI
AGE: 6
STATUS: Not a lost child
Standing before him was a young girl, no older than six, with wide, curious eyes that seemed to sparkle with wonder. She looked up at him with awe, but not directly toward him.
"Woah~ What is that?" she asked, her finger pointing eagerly toward Pabu, who was perched on Bolin's shoulder.
Bolin glanced at Pabu, who, of course, responded with an inquisitive tilt of his head before turning toward the little girl again.
"Oh this?" Bolin grinned, leaning down to meet her eye level. "This is Pabu! And he's the most awesome Fire Ferret in all of Republic City"
Pabu gave a little squeak, as if on cue, and the girl's eyes widened even more.
"Wah~ he's so cute." she exclaimed, her voice filled with pure wonder.
She slowly extended her hand toward Pabu, keeping her movements gentle, as if not wanting to startle him.
Pabu, sensing her caution, tilted his head curiously, and in his usual playful manner, stretched out his nose to greet her touch.
Bolin watched with a smile, amused by how easily Pabu warmed up to the girl.
With a chuckle, he gently scooped up Pabu and held him out toward her. "You wanna hold him?"
The girl's face lit up like a sun beam. She eagerly held out both her hands, nodding furiously.
With a gentle smile, Bolin carefully placed Pabu into the girl's eager arms, watching as she cradled him delicately, her excitement bubbling over.
For a moment, Bolin watched, amused, as the girl giggled and pressed her cheek against Pabu's soft fur, the fire ferret responding with contented squeaks. But curiosity nudged him, and he decided to break the warm silence with a gentle question.
"You have a name?" he asked with a warm smile, maintaining his kind tone as he watched her.
The girl's eyes flickered briefly toward the busy streets before she looked back at him, her face lighting up with a wide smile.
"Akaari!" she announced happily, hugging Pabu closer to her chest as though he was the most important thing in the world.
Bolin's expression softened even more, but he followed up with another question. "Where are your parents?"
Akaari's face shifted into a look of slight confusion, her little brows furrowing for a moment. Then, her expression brightened again, and she eagerly pointed toward an alleyway nearby.
"There!" she said, bouncing on the tip of her feet as she pointed with enthusiasm.
Bolin's gaze followed her outstretched finger, but as his eyes landed on the alley, a sense of unease settled in. The alley wasn't just dark—it felt unsettling.
"Uh… are you sure?" Bolin asked, his voice laced with concern as he looked at her.
Akaari's smile only brightened, her enthusiasm unwavering as she nodded vigorously. It was hard to argue with that level of confidence, especially from someone so small and innocent.
"Come big brother" she tugged at his arm, trying to pull him forward. "I'll introduce you."
Bolin paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to stay away, that something didn't feel right. But the pure, unfiltered joy radiating from Akaari, her innocent excitement, melted any lingering doubt.
With a soft sigh, he finally relented, following her lead, though not without concern showing in his face.
As they stepped into the alley, the light from the street quickly faded, swallowed by the narrow walls that stretched around them. Shadows clung to every corner, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and faint traces of something metallic. It was as eerie as he expected. Yet, in stark contrast, Akaari skipped ahead, laughing lightly and carefree—like a spark in the darkness.
How could a kid so bright, so full of warmth, belong in a place like this?
Deeper they went, the buildings turning more worn, the walls covered in faded posters and graffiti. Akaari suddenly picked up her pace, her grip tightening as she pulled him along.
Bolin allowed it, keeping up behind her slowly, his unease growing with every step.
Then, at the very end of the alley, he saw it—a small, rundown building, its wooden beams weathered, its windows cracked.
"Here! Here!" Akaari cheered, releasing his hand as she ran ahead to the front entrance.
Bolin exhaled, glancing up at the decayed structure as he waited.
"This place…" he muttered under his breath, unease creeping up his spine.
Something about it felt… off. It didn't match the surrounding structures—it was smaller, almost hastily put together, as if someone had built it in a hurry without proper materials. The uneven walls, the missing planks, the way it leaned over slightly to one side… it wasn't just old—it was makeshift.
Before Bolin could dwell on it, a familiar chittering sound drew his attention. Pabu darted out first, scampering up Bolin's leg before settling onto his shoulder, his tiny paws clutching at the fabric of his jacket.
Then, Akaari's excited voice rang from inside. "That's him!"
The young child slowly stepped out, tugging someone along by hand.
"Oh?" A soft, almost drawling voice hummed, their eyes lazily settling on Bolin. "Who's this boy?"
————————————————————————————
[At the same time, Republic City Police HQ]
Republic City is home to many iconic landmarks—City Hall, Central City Station, Harmony Park, Aang Memorial Island, and many more. Each played a role in shaping the city's identity, making it a vibrant, unforgettable metropolis.
Among these, standing as a pillar of order and security, was the Republic City Police Headquarters.
Located in the heart of the Central District, the HQ was the nerve center of law enforcement, where officers maintained order and criminals were booked.
Thump!
And one of their inner workings involves managing files.
Thump!
The sound of a stamp echoed through the chief's office.
Thump!
Stacks of paperwork lined the desk, case files waiting to be processed. At the center of it all, the person in charge—a formidable figure whose very name commanded authority.
LIN BEIFONG
AGE: 51
STATUS: Chief of Police.
Successor to the legendary Toph Beifong, Lin was every bit as tough as the reputation that preceded her. Duty-bound, no-nonsense, and unwavering in her commitment to the city's safety, she ran Republic City's Police Force with an Iron Will.
And today was no different.
Lin barely looked up from her paperwork as the door to her office creaked open. She sighed, already annoyed.
"What are you doing in my office?" she asked, her tone as sharp as the steel wires on her wrists. With practice motion, she tapped a stack of papers against the desk, straightening them with a crisp snap. "If you came just to waste my time, get out"
A smooth, knowing chuckle filled the room.
"Now, Now, Chief Beifong" came a reply, oozing with false charm.
The man standing before her exuded confidence—perhaps too much of it. His arms rested behind his back, posture straight and composed. But despite his impeccable outward appearance, Lin could feel the condescension dripping from his every being. He wasn't just looking at her—he was looking down at her, both physically and otherwise.
TARRLOK
AGE: 37
STATUS: Council Representative
His lips curled into a smirk, eyes gleaming with veiled intent.
"I'm sure you'll WANT to hear me out" he added, emphasis laced with something almost sinister.
Lin's brow twitched, but she remained still, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of her desk. Tarrlok was always like this—oily, calculated, a man who played the political game too well for her liking.
She narrowed her eyes, already tired of whatever game he was planning.
"You have ten seconds before I decide you're wasting my time"
"Now, that's no way to treat a Council Representative" he placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "I'm only here with the city's best interest in mind."
She leaned back slightly in her chair, crossing her arms. "If that were true, you'd be in City Hall actually DOING your job"
"Oh, but I am" Tarrlok's smirk deepened, his tone dropping slightly. "And my job requires your full cooperation, Chief"
Lin's fingers drummed once against the desk. She had no patience for politicians, and even less for this one. "Spit it out, Tarrlok"
His expression remained pleasant, but his eyes sharpened. "I want you to prioritize the Equalist threat"
Lin's jaw tightened. "And we ARE"
"Not enough" Tarrlok countered smoothly, his voice manufacturing disappointment.
He took another step forward, lowering his tone like he was letting her in on some grand truth.
"You've already failed once, Chief—when you let the Triads run rampant in the streets" he shook his head in mock sympathy. "Amon, saw that failure and seized it. He turned your negligence into HIS victory, made an example of them, and now a certain part of our citizens trust HIM more than our law enforcement."
Lin's gaze sharpened, but he wasn't done.
"Our citizens are afraid, and fear turns to desperation. They need action, they need REASSURANCE" he leaned in ever so slightly. "They need a leader who isn't afraid to take drastic measures to protect them"
Lin scoffed, crossing her arms. "Let me guess—you think YOU'RE that leader?"
Tarrlok spread his hands as if the thought had never even occurred to him. "I simply wish to offer… guidance. And perhaps a bit of authority to ensure the Equalists are dealt with swiftly"
Lin's glare was sharp enough to cut metal. "You mean overreach. Martial law. Letting YOU call the shots"
Tarrlok gave her an almost pitying smile, his eyes gleaming with something colder. He tilted his head slightly, as if speaking to a child who just didn't understand.
"Now, now. Such harsh words" He took a measured step forward, clasping his hands behind his back. "All I ask is for you to recognize that your approach isn't working. The city is slipping further into chaos under your watch"
Then, he paused—just long enough got the silence to settle, thick and heavy,
"And if you continue to be stubborn…" he let the words trail off, the unfinished threat hanging in the air.
However, Lin didn't flinch. She didn't scowl, didn't narrow her eyes—she just stared. A cold, unwavering glare that could have frozen metal.
"Get out of my office" her voice was calm, controlled, but there was no mistaking the edge beneath it.
Tarrlok exhaled, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. "I had hoped we could work together"
Slowly, deliberately, he reached into his coat. Lin's muscles coiled, ready—but his movements were careful, slow, making it clear he had no intent to harm.
"No matter" he continued smoothly, drawing out a crisp envelope and placing it on her desk. "I would at the very least hope you attend an event I personally arranged"
Lin didn't spare the envelope a glance. She looked at him. Her guard didn't drop, not for a second.
Tarrlok, satisfied, turned to leave—but just before stepping out, he paused at the doorway. Over his, he cast her one final glance, his smirk returning, though colder than before.
"I do hope you'd come to a… rational decision, Chief"
And then he was gone, his polished steps fading down the hall.
Lin exhaled sharply, jaw tight, her gaze lowering to the envelope. It sat there like a trap, its pristine edges almost mocking her.
—————————————————————————————
[Much later, Dragon Flats Borough]
After following a child through the eerie, dimly lit corners of Republic City, Bolin found himself in a situation that drained his energy in a way he hadn't quite anticipated—surrounded by a group of children.
"Go~! Go~!" a young boy cheered, perched on Bolin's shoulders like an excited little soldier.
Bolin staggered under the weight, though it wasn't much, but the constant tugging, pulling, and shouting from the enthusiastic crowd of kids was starting to take its toll.
"This isn't how I imagined my day going" Bolin chuckled tiredly, trying to maintain balance.
The boy on his shoulders grinned, his legs kicking with excitement. Meanwhile, the others surrounded him, pulling at his arms and shouting to play. Pabu wasn't spared as well, a few of the children taking turns playing with the little fire ferret.
Bolin let out a breathless laugh, his exhaustion slipping into a soft, but genuine smile.
"You guys…" he trailed off, his voice tinged with enjoyment.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Suddenly, a rhythmic tapping came from the door, saving Bolin from the brink of collapse. Before he could even react, the small army of children surged forward, squealing in unison.
"Mama!" they cried, racing toward the source of the sound with wild excitement.
Bolin's eyes followed the group as they dashed toward the door, his muscles finally able to relax as he took a much needed breath.
Standing in the doorway was a petite young woman, balancing a basket of vegetables in one hand.
SERA
AGE: 16
STATUS: "Mother"
As the children swarmed around her, calling her "Mama" in their excitement, Sera moved gracefully, her footsteps light and silent. She passed Bolin with barely a sound, her eyes glancing up at him for a moment as she went straight to the kitchen table to set down the basket.
With a soft, composed smile, she turned to face him, her expression warm yet knowing, acquainted with the chaos surrounding her.
"Hope they ain't much of a bother" she said, her voice light as her steps, yet carrying a hint of amused affection.
Bolin blinked, still catching his breath from the whirlwind of energy before letting out a relieved laugh.
"I think… I think 'bother' might be an understatement" he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. "But they're fun, in their own way"
Sera gave him a knowing look, a playful glint in her eye. "Well, we don't get visitors at all. Kids just excited to have someone new to play with."
Bolin chuckled, shaking his head as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Yeah, I can see that. They sure have a lot of energy. A little too much for me to handle, but it's all good"
Sera smiled warmly, her demeanor remaining calm and composed as she pulled out a chair from the kitchen table, sitting herself down. She silently watched the children bustle around, gathering dishes and tidying up with surprising efficiency. There was a quiet grace to her movements, a certain elegance that contrasted with the roughness of the home and the boisterous energy of the kids.
Bolin couldn't help but notice. If it weren't for the circumstances, she could easily pass for someone from a high-class family, with the way she carried herself.
Sera, catching his gaze, glanced up from the children with a soft chuckle.
"You're staring" she remarked with a teasing tone.
Bolin jolted, his face heating up as he fumbled for a response.
"What?! No—I-I, I mean, yeah, but not like—" he stammered, scratching the back of his head as he tripped over his own words. "I—I didn't mean to… I was just… uh—"
His eyes darted around for an escape, but all he found was Sera watching him, her amusement only growing.
"It's no worries" she said, letting out a light chuckle. "It feels nice to get admired"
Bolin let out a nervous laugh, still rubbing the back of his head.
"Admired? I wouldn't say that—I mean, not that you're not admirable! You totally are! Just, uh—" he groaned, looking away from her. "I'll just stop talking now"
Sera giggled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she watched him squirm. "You don't have to be so nervous"
"I'm not nervous, just a little…" Bolin's words trailed off, getting lost somewhere in his throat.
Before he could recover, a chorus of high-pitched voices cut through the moment.
"Mama~! The soup's gonna burn!"
Sera blinked, then gasped. "Oh, spirits!"
Without another word, she sprang to her feet and glided toward the stove, seamlessly waking over where the children had left off.
Bolin leaned against the kitchen table, watching as she moved with effortless grace, tending to the meal with almost motherly patience. He couldn't help but stare—there was something about her, something that felt… out of place, yet completely natural at the same time.
"Mama works hard…"
The quiet voice beside him startled him out of his thoughts. He turned to find one of the children standing at his side, watching the same scenery as he was.
Raising an eyebrow, Bolin offered a friendly grin. "She sure does, huh?"
He expected a giggle, maybe a nod. Instead, the boy simply glanced up at him with an unreadable, serious expression.
"Will you help Mama?" he asked, his dark eyes staring straight into him.
"Uh, well…" Bolin hesitated.
He felt oddly nervous under the boy's piercing stare, as if he was being silently judged. "I guess I should"
Complying, he pushed himself off the table and made his way toward Sera, who had already finished plating the soup, carefully serving each child one by one.
Noticing his approach, she turned to him without missing a beat, her warm smile meeting his uncertain gaze.
She extended a bowl toward him. "Help yourself."
"Thanks…" Bolin reluctantly accepted.
The children had already settled onto the floor around the round table, their small hands eagerly reaching for their spoons. Bolin glanced around, expecting to find an empty seat, but there was none.
Before he could ask where he was supposed to sit, he noticed Sera standing beside him, casually eating her meal without a care.
With the spoon still in her mouth, she glanced at him, swallowed, and raised an eyebrow. "Mmm? Hate it?"
Bolin, caught off guard, instinctively scooped a spoonful into his mouth. The warmth of the broth and the rich, comforting flavors hit his tongue all at once, and his eyes widened.
"Ish re-really good!" he blurted out, struggling to speak with his mouth still full.
Sera giggled, covering her mouth with her fingers. "You'll choke if you're not careful"
He quickly chewed and swallowed with a big gulp before giving her a sheepish grin.
Sera's laughter was light and warm, and for a moment, Bolin felt his nerves melt away as he watched her. There was something effortlessly comforting about her presence. The kids were still all over the place, excitedly eating and chatting amongst themselves, but in that moment, Bolin felt strangely at peace.
Still, the reality of their situation made his stomach twist a little. The Dragon Flats Borough wasn't the safest place in Republic City. A group of children living here on their own? That wasn't something he could just ignore.
"Hey, uh…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "So, you guys… live here alone?"
Sera paused, tilting her head as if confused by the question "That much should be obvious"
Bolin chuckled nervously, gesturing vaguely at the room. "I mean, no adults? No parents? It's just… you?"
Sera finished her bowl as he asked, her voice even. "It's just us…"
Bolin opened his mouth, but hesitated. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but something about her tone made it clear this wasn't a topic she wanted to dwell on.
Still, he felt a nagging weight settle in his chest.
Sensing his obvious concern, Sera shot him a sideways glance. "You don't have to look so troubled"
"Huh? Me? I'm not—"
"You are" she said plainly, turning to face him fully. "But it's fine. We manage"
Bolin studied her for a moment. She was calm, collected—too composed for someone the same age as he was and still carrying this much responsibility. It was all too familiar for him.
"I guess…" Bolin paused, his voice soft "You sorta remind me of my brother…"
Sera tilted her head, clearly intrigued. "Oh? He must've looked out for you well then?"
Bolin's expression softened, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah… we were street kids ourselves back then" he exhaled deeply. "Did things we weren't proud of… but we always had each other's back"
"And how did you make it out?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Of the streets I mean"
Bolin's gaze shifted, lingering on the children as they are, their laughter filling the air. His thoughts drifted to the past, to those days of struggle and uncertainty, yet still being able to laugh like they did.
"An opportunity, I guess" he murmured. "We went from job to job, using our bending to make a living. And now we're part of this whole Pro-bending thing"
Sera's eyes remained on him as she spoke, her expression flat. She was listening, truly listening. When he finished, she turned her gaze to the same scene he had been watching, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Well, you have that advantage at least…" she muttered, almost to herself, her voice showing a tinged of jealousy,
Bolin frowned, turning to her. "What do you mean?"
Sera didn't look at him right away. Instead, she gestured to the children—at the small ones, who still had the bright spark of curiosity in their eyes, despite their circumstance.
"No burn marks, no bruises…" she mentioned softly. "Why do you think that is?"
Bolin thought about it for a moment, searching for an answer. But before he could come up with one, Sera continued, her tone more serious now.
"The children don't have any bending" she glanced at him, her eyes losing its warmth. "For kids without instructors to guide them, simply sprouting a small spark would result in burns. Trying to move a pebble would've left them with bruises. And yet, these kids… they don't have those injuries. They don't harm themselves because they can't cause it"
Bolin felt his chest tightened as her words sunk in. He glanced at the children, watching them with an entirely different perspective now.
"You made it out because of that one advantage…" Sera continued, her voice quieter this time, but tinged with a bitter edge. "But these kids… don't have that blessing."
Bolin stood there, his mouth dry, unsure of what to say… if he can even say anything. The weight of her words lingered in the air between them. He had never really considered it that way before. The path he walked toward, he gained because of that one fact—he can bend. But for these kids, that path didn't even exist.
"I… I never thought about it that way…" Bolin admitted, his voice quieter now, laden with the realization that had just struck him.
Sera's eyes softened, but there was still a hard edge to her gaze.
"I didn't mean to make you feel bad" she said quietly, looking away for a moment. "But it's the truth. Some people… some things are just hard for others. Not everyone is as lucky as you."
Bolin swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a tremendous weight in his chest.
Sera shifted, her hands gently taking his empty bowl. "I guess that soured the mood"
She moved toward the sink quietly and fluidly.
Just then, a chorus of high-pitched voices interrupted the moment.
"Mama! We'll help!"
"We can wash!"
"Take a rest, Mama!"
The children rushed toward Sera, eager to help, surrounding her with their infectious energy.
Bolin watched them for a moment, his chest tightening as he took in the sight. Despite their tough circumstance, the children wore smiles as bright as the sun, their joy radiating through the room.
One of the younger kids suddenly jumped on Bolin's back with a gleeful shout.
"I like you, Mister! Play with us again!" The boy giggled before hopping off, and Bolin chuckled as the other crowded around him, showering them with their affection.
Sera let out a light giggle, watching the scene unfold with a warmth that seemed to touch everything around them
But the moment couldn't last forever.
"Well, mister's gotta go now" she said, crouching down to the children "It's nap time after eating, remember?"
Reluctantly, the kids nodded and scattered to clean up, their energy shifting to tidying the space.
Bolin glanced at Sera, correctly assuming that it was time for him to leave.
He scratched the back of his neck, his voice quieter than usual. "I'll… I'll try to visit again"
"I'm sure the kids will be happy to play with you again" Sera's smile was warm and genuine as she looked up at him.
Bolin smiled back, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. He nodded, turning toward the door. As he stepped out into the cool evening air, he couldn't help but glance one last time.
He saw Sera watching him leave, waving a gentle farewell. He brightened, lifting his hand to wave back as he walked away.
"He's nice…" Akaari commented, holding a bundle of folded cloth in her arms. "He's better than that other man"
Sera's smile faltered, and her voice dropped to a slower tone. "We don't talk about him here"
The two fell into a quiet silence, the faint sound of children getting ready to rest filling the air as Bolin disappeared into the distance.
Then, Akaari broke the silence with a curious voice.
"Will you be going to work now?" she glanced up at Sera, a slight tilt of her head.
Sera's smile returned, but it was gentle, almost secretive "I told you I didn't like calling it 'work', didn't I~"
Akaari nodded obediently, understanding the meaning in Sera's words. She returned her attention to the rest of the children, making sure they were settling down for their nap. Then, after a beat, she turned back to Sera, offering the fabric to her.
"Have fun 'playing' then!" she said with a bright, teasing smile.
Sera chuckled softly and, with a pat on Akaari's head, took the fabric from her hands. She wrapped the cloak around her shoulder, pulling the hood up over her head.
"I'll see what new toys I can find to play with~" Sera replied, her voice now taking on a teasing, almost coy tone as she turned to leave. reaching in her hood and slipping on a mask.
A white, fox-shaped mask.
————————————————————————————
[Future Industries Headquarters, Evening]
After being practically handed over to Asami for the rest of the day by her father, Zhen found himself tagging along as she made her rounds across various Future Industries workhouses.
For the most part, Asami spent the time inspecting pending projects, occasionally pausing to tweak small errors herself. Zhen, in turn, had been relegated to the role of a glorified tool handler—passing her wrenches, holding up schematics, and, at one point, being asked to 'stand there and don't move' while she measured something. He complied without protest.
Now, the two of them sat across from each other in one of Future Industries; prototype Satomobiles, en route to another factory on the far side of Republic City. The drive was long, and the atmosphere inside the vehicle was… stifling.
The silence between them stretched, unbroken. Zhen, for his part, seemed utterly unaffected. If anything, he looked perfectly content with the silence, gazing out the window with relaxed stillness.
Asami, on the other hand, was suffering.
She had been distracting herself by reviewing the clipboard in her hands, flipping through its pages with studious intensity. The problem was, she had already reread the damn thing ten times in the last twenty minutes. She wasn't even processing the information anymore—her eyes just skimmed over words like shipment delay, gear alignment, and budget reallocation while her brain repeated: 'This is so damn awkward'
At first, she managed to keep her composure by treating this like a business meeting, but there was only so much silence one person could endure before it got unbearable. Zhen had spoken during inspections, sure—but only in the most unhelpful ways.
"Okay"
"Alright"
That was it.
Right now, he was so quiet, she might as well have been sitting across her own shadow,
She cleared her throat.
Ahem.
Nothing.
Zhen didn't even blink.
'Oh, for the love of—'
Asami finally glanced up from her clipboard, exhaling sharply through her nose as she resisted the urge to rub her temples.
Enough was enough. If he wasn't going to break the silence, she would.
"So…" Asami began, forcing a casual tone as she set the clipboard down her lap. "Do you always just sit there like that?"
Zhen's gaze shifted lazily from the window to her. "Like what?"
She gestured vaguely at him. "Like… that. All quiet and broody. It's like I'm riding with a statue"
Zhen blinked once. "I'm working right now"
Asami gives him a flat look. "Working doesn't mean conversations aren't allowed, you know"
"They… don't?" Zhen tilted his head slightly.
For a second, she genuinely couldn't tell if he was joking.
"You're impossible" she sighed, shaking her head. "Alright. We're fixing this. From now on, we're going to talk like normal people."
"But… I'm still working"
She ignored that. "I'll ask some questions. You answer. Simple"
Zhen remained silent, but at least he didn't object. Progress.
"So" she tried again. "What do you do when you're not zoning out?"
He blinked again. "I don't zone out"
Asami raised an eyebrow.
Zhen sighed, relenting. "I train. I read"
That… somehow seemed obvious. Still, she wanted something more interesting.
"I make things" he added.
"Really? You can make things?" she perked up slightly, finally gaining something interesting to talk about. "Like what?"
Zhen hesitated speaking for a moment, and then—quietly, almost shyly—he said. "...I, I made a teapot the other day…"
That caught her off guard. "...A teapot?"
Zhen nodded solemnly.
For a moment, it was just silence. Asami didn't know what to think and simply stared at him
Then, to her surprise, Zhen continued. "It wasn't very good"
And suddenly, against her will, Asami burst out laughing.
It was loud, unrestrained, and probably a little inappropriate given the circumstance, but it was also so unexpected that she couldn't help it. She pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the giggles, but it was useless.
The person who had seemed so intimidating earlier, and who had barely said more than a few words all day—was now talking about making a teapot? And even better, he looked almost embarrassed about it. The contrast was so stark that Asami couldn't help but find it ridiculously endearing.
"I—I'm sorry!" she gasped between giggles, wiping her tears. "I didn't mean to laugh!"
Zhen glanced at her briefly but quickly looked away, his gaze settling on the window again. "It's fine…"
But Asami noticed the faint pout tugging at the corner of his lips. There was something almost cute about it.
"Really, I'm sorry" she said, her laughter dying down but still carrying a smile. "I just—a teapot? Is there anything else you've made?"
Zhen's shoulders stiffened slightly, and he gave a nonchalant shrug, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Just a few… cups and vases…"
Asami smirked, leaning in slightly. "Cups and vases huh? That's impressive. You don't really strike me as the artistic type"
"Not really art" he muttered.
She raised an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"
Zhen let out a small huff, as if debating whether to answer.
Finally, he relented. "It's for Practice…"
Uhuh…
Asami teased lightly, amused by how much he was struggling to keep his composure. She rested her chin on her palm, watching him squirm a little.
Zhen exhaled through his nose, clearly realizing there was no escaping her curiosity now. "It helps maintain focus. Since they are delicate to make, they break too easily…"
That made her pause.
Asami studied him, her amusement fading into something softer. She didn't expect an answer like that.
"That actually makes a lot of sense" she admitted, nodding thoughtfully. "Still, is there anything else you've made that isn't pots and pans?"
Zhen hummed in thought but didn't respond right away. Instead, he reached into his pouch, pulling out a small leather cylinder. He held it out for her to see.
"Things like this" he said simply.
Asami studied the item in his hand, brow furrowing. It looked oddly familiar.
"Is this…" she started, reaching out—
EEEEEERRRT-CRASH!
The world jerked. Metal screamed as the Satomobile lurched violently to the side. The impact slammed Asami against her seat, her breath torn from her lungs. Glass shattered. The clipboard she had been holding flew from her lap, pages scattering like startled birds.
Through the chaos, she caught one last image—Zhen, still as calm as ever, reaching out toward her.
————————————————————————————
[At the same time]
EEEEEERRRT-CRASH!
In the heart of a desolate part of the district, where the silence of the empty streets seemed almost unnatural, the collision was deafening. The sleek, well-renowned Satomobile was violently forced off course, spinning uncontrollably before it finally slammed onto its side, the crumpled vehicle lying motionless in the middle of the street.
A beat later, a van—nondescript and unremarkable—rumbled out of a narrow alleyway, its tires screeching against the pavement as it swerved into view.
"Go! Go!"
"Move it, we got paid good money for this"
The driver barked at his partner, their voices rising in frantic urgency. The van screeched to a halt just behind the wreckage, and with a jarring squeal, the side door flew open. Four individuals stepped out swiftly, surveying the damage.
"Are we even sure she's still alive?" one of the thugs grunted, eyeing the wreckage with uncertainty.
A thug with a crooked hat slapped his partner on the back with a confident grin. "Doesn't matter. So long as we got a body to deliver, job's good as done"
The others murmured in agreement, their eyes narrowing as they circled the damaged Satomobile, preparing to climb atop it and pry the door open. But before they could make a move, something shot up from the wreckage—a blur too fast for any of them to register.
KRA-KOOM!
A sudden explosion of light and sound filled the air, blinding flashes and a thrill, screeching noise that tore through eardrums.
ARGH!
They all screamed in agony, hands flying up to cover their faces and ears, but it was too late.
As the thugs crouched in pain, struggling to recover, the driver—still untouched by the blast, caught a glimpse of movement from the wreck.
A figure busted the door open and crawled out of the twisted metal, staggering to his feet with labored, uneven breaths. Blood poured down his face from a gash atop his head, and his body was torn—one arm hung limp, poorly bandaged, while a jagged piece of debris remained lodged in his side, darkening his clothes with spreading red. Shards of glass clung to his torn garments, glinting from where they had embedded into his skin. He looked like he shouldn't even be standing.
And yet, he was.
For a brief second, his sharp, piercing gaze locked onto the driver. The man stiffened, paralyzed by the sheer weight of that crimson stare. But Zhen didn't linger. His attention shifted to the thugs still writhing from the shock of his earlier attack.
He leaped off the wreckage, landing loudly, but his presence remained unnoticed by the disoriented crew—until a strangled gasp cut through the air.
Guhk!
Zhen's fingers clenched around a thug's throat—the one with the crooked hat. His grip was crushing on the man's throat, fingers pressing deep into the man's skin.
"Kkhhh! Wait!" the man wheezed, his hands clawing desperately at Zhen's arm, but his voice choked off before he could finish.
His body went limp, unconscious before he could even process what was happening.
Though he wasn't able to continue and passed out.
FWOOOSH!
Suddenly, a flare of heat struck.
Zhen's eyes flicked to the side as a blast of fire shot toward him, forcing him to spring back.
"Damn it! Missed!" a burly thug cursed, lowering his smoking fists.
Beside him, a tall, lanky one had already drawn water from his pouch. "No one said we'd be dealing with someone else!"
He eyed Zhen as half-his body was covered in smoke. In a single fluid motion, the water hardened into ice—sharp, jagged spikes that he launched in quick succession.
Thk! Thk! Thk!
The sickening sound of blades piercing flesh echoed through the empty streets.
But it wasn't Zhen's flesh.
A heavy silence fell as the thugs took in the sight before them.
Their comrade, still dangling in Zhen's grasp, twitched violently—his body now impaled with a dozen ice shards. The once-clear crystals were now dyed in deep red, their tips buried in his torso, his break escaping in weak, shuddering gasps.
"B-Bastard…!" one of the thugs stammered, horror creeping into his voice.
Zhen said nothing.
His gaze swept over the remaining three—watching, calculating. Observing how they shifted their stances, how their hands twitched, how their breath quickened.
Two firebenders. One waterbender.
They stood frozen, sweat beading on their skin from the suffocating weight of silence.
CHK!
Suddenly, a sharp, sickening crack shattered the stillness.
The thug in Zhen's grasp went limp instantly.
And then—without a flicker of remorse—he let the body fall.
The corpse hit the pavement with a dull thud, lifeless eyes staring into nothing.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then—
"You son of a—!"
The bulkier firebender lunged, his fist igniting in a burst of searing orange flames. He swung wide, aiming to incinerate Zhen on the spot.
Zhen shifted, his movements eerily fluid, stepping just out of range as the flames licked past him. Before the thug could unleash another attack, Zhen closed the distance—his foot slamming into the man's knee with a sickening crack.
AARGH!
The firebender crumpled with a scream as his leg bent backwards, but Zhen didn't give him a chance. In a blur, as the man landed on the ground, Zhen stomped his other knee down, completely crushing it with a—
CRUNCH
The firebender gasped—a gurgling, broken sound—before he completely passed out from the pavement.
"Crap! Get back!" the lanky waterbender shouted, pure panic bleeding into his voice.
His arms shot forward, yanking water from his pouch and snapping it into a whip. It lashed toward Zhen's body, aiming to throw him off.
Zhen's eyes flickered toward the attack.
But rather than dodge, he planted his foot under the unconscious thug and kicked—sending the limp body into the air just in time to intercept the whip. The force of impact sent the unconscious man hurtling into the van with a sickening crash.
The waterbender barely had time to process before Zhen closed the distance.
Gh—!
A sharp gasp left the waterbender's lips as Zhen's fingers clamped onto his wrist. Before he could react, Zhen twisted.
SNAP!
A choked scream tore from the waterbender's throat as his arm was bent at a grotesque angle—the unmistakable crack of bone shattering echoed through the empty street.
The last firebender stumbled backward, trembling. His eyes darted between Zhen and his fallen comrades, terror clawing up his spine.
Then, he turned on his heel.
He ran.
But he was too slow.
A brutal yank seized the firebender's hair, wrenching him back. His knees buckled as Zhen delivered a swift kick behind his legs, forcing him to kneel.
The firebender gasped, eyes wild. "W-Wait! Please—!"
Zhen didn't speak.
His broken arm moved—fingers gripping the jagged metal spike embedded in his own side.
Shhhkk—
Blood sprayed as he slowly slid the spike free.
The firebenders pupils shrank, his breath hitching.
Zhen raised the bloodied spike overhead.
And drove it down.
————————————————————————————
[Inside the car]
AARGH!
A distant, muffled scream barely registered in Asami's hazy mind as she stirred awake.
Her body ached. The world around her felt tilted, wrong. She lay flat on the opposite side of the vehicle, her head throbbing, vision swimming in and out of focus. The faint scent of smoke and blood clung to the air.
She blinked hard, focusing herself to focus. Her eyes landed on the driver beside her—unconscious but breathing, safely cushioned by the seats.
With a groan, she pushed herself up, one hand cradling her pounding head. Her other hand pressed against something soft beneath her..
She glanced down.
Cushions.
She wasn't sprawled across broken glass or twisted metal—she had landed on a carefully placed stack of seat cushions and small pillows.
Someone put her there.
"Zhen…?" she murmured weakly, her voice hoarse as she scanned the dim, crumpled space.
But he was nowhere in sight.
"W-Wait! Please—!"
Then, the sound of a cry—loud, desperate—pierced the haze. It was enough to snap her back into focus.
With urgency, Asami pushed herself up, her hands gripping the nearest ledge for support as her mind reeled.
"Miss Sato?" the driver's voice was a groggy murmur as he slowly started to regain his bearings
Fully conscious now, Asami turned to face him. "Help me up."
The driver, still groggy but recognizing her urgency, immediately went to work. He kneeled down, offering his hands to support her. Asami placed a foot in his palms, using his steady grip to push herself up toward the open door.
When she finally climbed out, the first thing that hit her was the sight of chaos. Bodies sprawled across the ground—some twitching, others unmoving, it was violence in every direction.
One man clutched his arm, writhing in pain, his face contorted in agony as he struggled to breathe. Another, larger figure, was slumped against a van, his legs twisted and crushed. The other two, lay flat on the ground, bore the unmistakable signs of a brutal end—their bodies riddled with holes, the blood still pooling around them.
Asami's stomach twisted at the sight, but she pushed the nausea down. She couldn't waste time wondering if they were dead. There was just one thing she had to be certain of.
She hopped down from the wreckage, landing slightly on the cracked pavement. Her driver followed behind, his movements shaky.
"Miss Sato? This is…" His voice faltered, his eyes scanning the bodies before he immediately turned away, his body trembling as he vomited violently onto the ground.
"Stay here" she ordered, her voice sharp, though the tremor in her chest betrayed her calm exterior.
The driver, still recovering from the shock, nodded weakly, his face pale as he stumbled back, leaning against the car for support.
Asami's eyes scanned the area, but one thing immediately caught her attention—an unmistakable trail of blood. It stretched from the van's open door from the driver's side, leaving a trail as if someone had been dragged through the street. Heart hammering in her chest, she followed the gruesome path without a second thought.
And there she found him.
Zhen was slumped against the van's rear door, his body a bloody mess. His pale face was etched with pain and his breath came in ragged gasps, barely managing to hold his composure.
In front of him was the van's driver, bound with makeshift cloth ropes, a metal spike lodged in their back, their face battered and bruised. It was a gruesome scene, but Asami was led to ignore it, her heart seized by the figure she had been looking for.
"Zhen?" she called, her voice catching with a mixture of relief and terror.
Zhen's vacant gaze lifted toward her, a slight flicker of recognition in his eyes as he weaky muttered. "Miss Sato…"
Without waiting for her to speak, Zhen grunted, his face contorting in pain as he tried to push himself up with the van's broken window as leverage. His movements were slow, painfully so.
Asami's breath caught in her throat as she took in the full extent of his injuries.
His side was a wreck—a massive gaping wound, blood steadily seeping from the injury, only barely contained by his own broken arm pressed against his flesh, struggling to keep it from spilling further. His face was covered in dried blood, marking the path of some blow to his head. His clothes had a large diagonal torn from his shoulder to his waist, shards of glass embedded his skin.
He had used half of his clothing to tie up the van's driver.
She had a dozen questions, each one pressing at the edge of her mind, but they all faded into the background, overshadowed by the sight of him standing in front of her.
"You're a mess" she muttered, unable to stop herself, the words slipping out before she could hold them back.
Zhen didn't flinch. His face remained a mask of cold indifference, the pain from his wounds still barely registering in his eyes.
"Just… working" he replied flatly, his voice low and hollow.
Asami didn't respond immediately. She simply reached out, her hand trembling as it wrapped around Zhen's wrist. She gave a soft tug, and for a moment, he didn't move.
"Work's over…" she said quietly, looking up at his fading red eyes, her gaze steady despite her inner turmoil. "Let's get you some help"
For a long moment, he remained still, and Asami wasn't sure if he'd heard her. But then, with a subtle shift of his weight, he followed her lead. Slowly stepping away from the vehicle to somewhere more open. No words. Just the sound of their footsteps echoing on the pavement.
WHEEE-oooooo
A sharp wail of approaching sirens cut through the stillness. Asami turned her head sharply toward the sound, her racing heart finally calming down at the familiar sound of help.
"Miss Sato!" the driver, still pale and visibly shaken, hurried over to them. "Your father called for help!"
Asami sighed in relief, the weight of the moment pressing down on her chest. The sense of dread that had been gnawing at her eased slightly. But before she could fully embrace the relief, a sharp, authoritative voice sliced through the quiet.
"Are you Asami Sato?"
Asami turned toward the voice, recognizing the figure walking toward them. The esteemed Chief of Police, Lin Beifong, her expression as sharp as ever, her presence commanding the attention of everyone around her.
Asami nodded. "Yes, I am"
"Your father is worried sick. Get in the vehicle." Lin's voice brooked no argument as she gestured to one of the police cars parked nearby. "My men will escort you home"
Asami didn't hesitate, her steps automatic as she moved toward the car, feeling the reassuring presence of safety.
But as she passed Lin, she came to an abrupt stop. It was as if something was holding her in place.
"As for you…" Lin's voice was colder than before, the steely resolve unmistakable as she turned her attention to Zhen.
In a single swift motion, she bent metal wires around the wrist that Asami had been holding, securing them tightly toward his other wrist.
Zhen, ever stoic, didn't flinch despite the wires tightening against his broken arm.
"You're coming with me" Lin said, her gaze fixed on Zhen as she held the end of the wire.
"Wait! Wait! He needs help first!" Asami immediately protested, her voice cracked with urgency as she stepped forward, not willing to release Zhen from her grip.
Lin's glare was sharp, unforgiving. "We'll get him help on the way. Now let him go, or I'll make you"
Asami hesitated, her eyes locked with Zhen's for a brief moment. He offered no resistance to Lin's command, his face pale and bloodied but composed. His gaze shifted to Asami, and for a fleeting second, his expression turned soft.
"Work's over…" he whispered, forcing a strained, weakened smile. "I'll see you when I see you…"
The words landed like a blow, and Asami's heart clenched painfully in her chest. She nodded slowly, her fingers finally loosening from his wrist, letting the officers pull him away.
Zhen didn't fight them. His body slumped slightly as they dragged him away, his legs unsteady beneath him, barely able to support his weight. As he was escorted toward the waiting vehicle, Asami stood frozen, watching the police swarm him, not even supporting him, indifferent to his state.
The thugs around her, too, were being carted off, some alive, others not so fortunate, but Asami couldn't care less about them. All her focus was on Zhen.
As soon as the vehicle carrying him drove off, she slowly turned away, her movements mechanical as she joined the police force for the journey home. Her driver, still shaken, followed closely behind her, both of them silent as they made their way to the car.
————————————————————————————
[Later at Night, Air Temple Island]
The night carried an unusual sharp chill, a rare cold front settling over the island. Inside the temple, teh airbender family enjoyed a quiet dinner, the warm glow of lanterns casting soft shadows across the walls.
Then, the phone rang.
A middle aged man sighed, setting down his teacup before rising from his seat. He crossed the room with quiet steps, but the moment he picked up the receiver, his expression darkened.
TENZIN
AGE: 51
STATUS: His day off
"What?!" his voice shot through the room, sharp with anger. "I'm on my way! Do NOT let him out of there!"
With an irritated growl, he slammed the phone back onto its base. His usual calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a rigid tension as he turned to leave, nearly stomping his way out the door.
Before he could reach it, a voice stopped him in his tracks.
KORRA
AGE: 17
STATUS: The Avatar
"Tenshin?" she called, her words slightly muffled by the chopsticks still in her mouth. "Whash's wrong?"
Tenzin took a deep breath, rubbing his temples before finally meeting her gaze. His voice was even, but the frustration was unmistakable.
"Zhen's in jail"
End