[Morning, Sato Estate]
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sharp raps echoed through the grand halls of the estate, cutting through the stillness of morning.
Down the marble corridor, the butler moved with quick, measured steps, the polished floor reflecting his hurried pace. When he opened the towering front doors, his eyes flickered wide for just a moment at the sight on the threshold—but he quickly masked his surprise with a bow, stepping aside to admit the visitors.
Standing beneath the grand archway was the Chief of Police herself.
LIN BEIFONG
AGE: 51
STATUS: Chief of Police
"I have a few questions for Mr. Sato. Is he home?" Lin asked, her voice firm yet carrying the measured respect reserved for delicate situations.
The butler straightened, his face unreadable. "M.r. Sato is in his office. Please follow me"
Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and led them deeper into the estate.
Lin followed, her steps barely audible on the carpeted stairs. The three others trailed just behind her, their presence hushed by the opulence of the Sato estate. The soft glow of the morning light through stained glass windows painted fractured colors along the walls, but none of them paused to admire it.
Midway up the staircase, two figures stood mid-conversation. Their words dying in their throats as their eyes fell on the group approaching.
One of them—a tall, sharp-eyed teen—immediately stepped forward, instinctively putting himself between the guests and others. His hand found the shoulder of the young girl among them, forcibly halting her.
MAKO
AGE: 18
STATUS: Well, he lives here for now
"What's going on?" Mako asked, tension already tightening his voice. "Why are they asking Hiroshi more questions?"
The young Avatar pulled her arm away easily from his grip, her expression caught somewhere between firm resolve and reluctant guilt. She wore the heavy blue coat like armor, but here eyes softened as they flicked toward Asami for a moment
KORRA
AGE: 17
STATUS: Witness?
"I overheard him on the phone yesterday" she admitted quietly. Her voice dropped as she completely turned toward Asami. "I don't know how to tell you this... but, I think your father might be involved with the Equalists"
Silence.
The young girl beside Mako recoiled like she'd been slapped, the shock giving way to complete disbelief.
ASAMI SATO
AGE: 18
STATUS: She actually lives here
"What?!" Her voice cracked with fury and hurt. "I can't believe this!"
She didn't wait for further explanation. Without so much as a glance at Korra, she turned on her heel and strode up the stairs, her jaw set, her pace sharp, catching up to the backs of Lin and the others.
Mako lingered behind, his expression a mix of disbelief and disappointment.
"You spied on Hiroshi?" he demanded, his voice low but cutting, as if he had just been insulted. "What's your problem?"
He didn't wait for a response from the Avatar. With a shake of his head, he turned and followed after Asami, his pace quickening with every step.
Korra remained on the stairs, her shoulders sinking slightly under the weight of their reactions. Doubt crept in, curling its fingers around her earlier conviction. But before it could settle, a hand gently clapped her shoulder.
"Don't feel too bad" came a voice beside her—calm, dry, and for some reason comforting. "When you're right, I'll make sure they apologize"
ZHEN
AGE: 19
STATUS: Wasn't actually briefed on what's going on
She glanced sideways at him, her frown easing just a little at the casual assurance in his tone.
With a small huff, Korra straightened, drawing renewed energy into her stance.
"Alright!" she said, voice firm again. "Let's go get this guy then"
She took two steps at a time, determination flaring in her eyes. Zhen said nothing more—he simply followed close behind.
—————————————————————————————
[Evening, Future Industries Warehouse]
The sun had long since dipped beneath the horizon, casting the industrial skyline in a weary haze of fading amber and deepening blue. What began as a confident pursuit of truth had eroded into a long day of fruitless searching—one warehouse after another, crates cracked open, shipments scrutinized, papers reviewed until the ink blurred in tired eyes.
Despite the effort, the result was the same: nothing.
No trace of hidden compartments, no altered shipping records, no trail leading to anything related to the Equalists.
Hiroshi Sato was clean.
One by one, officers pulled away from the site, their figures rising into the sky aboard silent blimps, vanishing into the dusk with nothing to show for. Below, Lin and Tenzin stood side by side in the growing stillness, their expressions hard to read—equal parts frustration and reluctant acceptance.
Korra approached them slowly, her shoulders stiff, eyes following the retreating blimps as if hoping one might return with last-minute answers.
She dropped down from Naga's saddle with a quiet thud, her boots kicking up dust from the warehouse grounds.
"I can't believe we didn't find anything" she said, bitterness lacing her voice.
Lin's gaze stayed fixed on the horizon for a moment longer before she finally turned to face her.
"It would appear Hiroshi was innocent" she said flatly. Not a verdict of belief—just resignation.
She stood still for a moment, her eyes lingering on the shadows cast by the departing airships. Before she could say more, the crunch of approaching footsteps broke the silence—faster, sharper than Korra's earlier arrival.
Asami stormed toward them, hands planted on her hips. Gone was the usual warm cordiality she carried like second nature.
"Ok, you did your search" she snapped, her voice edged in steel. "Now you can leave"
Lin caught the hostility in her eyes and responded only with a quiet exhale through her nose. She didn't argue—there was nothing else she could say.
Behind Asami, Mako casted Korra a glance before tipping his head to the side. Korra caught the silent signal and moved with him a short distance away, far enough for privacy, but not out of sight.
He turned to her with a guarded expression, his arms folding across his chest.
"So?" he asked, his tone tight. "I hope you're convinced now"
Korra didn't back down. "No, I'm not"
Mako blinked at her, frown deepening.
"I don't care how cooperative Hiroshi is being" she continued, not even wavering in her accusation. "I know he's lying. Something's not right with him"
Mako looked at her for a long beat, annoyance flickering across his face. But instead of finding his rationality, his temper found another outlet.
"Why are you doing this?" He questioned, landing heavier than intended. "Are you that jealous of me and Asami?"
Korra's breath caught in her chest. The accusation—so far from where her mind had been—hit like a slap. Her eyes widened, not in guilt, but in stunned disbelief.
She'd thought they'd moved past all of that. She'd hoped—after everything—they were beginning to rebuild something that resembled trust. And yet here he was, dragging it back through the mud like she hadn't grown at all.
"What?" She said, her voice faltering for the first time before snapping back. "Don't be ridiculous! That has nothing to do with it!"
The idea hadn't even crossed her mind. Not until he'd forced it into the air.
"You leave me no choice Korra" Mako said, his tone cold, but resolute—like a gavel slamming down. "But if you don't drop this… consider our friendship over"
There was no empathy in his voice, only the faintest flicker of hope behind his eyes. Hope that this threat would be enough to make her back down. Enough to convince her that whatever she thought she was doing, it wasn't worth what they had.
Whether he believed she was acting out of jealousy or stubborn pride, he was betting she'd fold.
But she didn't.
Korra looked away, not in shame, but in certainty.
"I'm sorry" there was no plea in her voice, no regret–-just unwavering belief in herself. "Hiroshi is not the man you think he is"
When she looked back up at him, her eyes searched his for something—trust, maybe. Understanding.
But all she saw was disappointment.
Mako exhaled sharply, glancing aside. His gaze drifted past Korra to something—someone—in the distance, and it soured his mood even more.
When he spoke again, his voice was clipped, harder now. "I don't know what you think you've seen in Hiroshi… but maybe you should take a closer look at the people you actually keep close, before pointing fingers at someone who's done nothing wrong"
He didn't wait for her to answer. Didn't even offer a parting glance or softened word. Just turned on his heel and walked away—back to Asami, who had been waiting at the edge of the lot.
She paused, casting a brief, unreadable look at Korra before Mako reached her side, and then they walked away together.
Korra stood there, watching them go. Her shoulders sank as the ache of the moment settled in her chest like a tight grip. Then, with a slow breath, she turned her gaze toward the same direction Mako was looked at earlier before walking away.
Well, it was Zhen.
He stood a short distance away, lifting broken crates and helping warehouse staff reset the chaos the investigation had heartlessly left behind. Amid the storm of suspicion, he was calm as ever, his movements efficient.
They hadn't said much to each other all day. The search had consumed both their times. And Zhen, ever serious in his work, hadn't spared time for casual words.
Korra started toward him, Mako's last remark echoing faintly in her mind.
'Check the people you keep close…' the thought stirred uneasily, churning just beneath the surface.
She stopped.
Her brow furrowed.
"No" she told herself firmly.
That had been nothing but a parting shot, a cheap attempt to plant doubt. She wasn't going to let it fester.
"Zhen!" she called, raising a hand.
He looked up immediately. His stoic expression softened when he saw her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. That small gesture lifted a quiet warmth within her.
But just as quickly, it vanished.
Something tugged gently at her other hand. She blinked, startled, and glanced down.
Her fingers curled instinctively around something—thin, crumpled. A piece of paper. She hadn't noticed anyone near her. Hadn't even felt anyone place it there.
She turned slightly, eyes scanning the area. Nothing around her was suspicious. Just workers finishing cleanup, detectives taking last minute notes. Still, the sudden appearance of the note set her nerves alight.
"What's up?" Zhen asked as he finally stepped beside her.
Korra didn't answer right away. She slowly unfolded the paper in her palm, the crinkly loud in the quiet space between them.
"I don't know" she murmured, eyes narrowing as they fell on the words inside.
Zhen leaned in slightly, reading along without a word.
After a short scan, Korra pivoted, the tension in her frame rising like a current. She strode toward Lin and Tenzin, Zhen following behind, raising the note halfway as they approached.
"I think you guys should hear this" she held it out. Her eyes returning to the words as she read aloud:
"If you want to find the truth, meet me under the north end of Silk Road Bridge at midnight"
—————————————————————————————
[Midnight, Silk Road Bridge]
The bridge loomed in the dark, its rusted underbelly lit only by a scattering of flickering street lamps. Trash whispered across the cracked pavement, nudged along by a cold breeze. Rodents skittered between shadows, and the stench of old oil and mildew clung to the air like a warning.
Korra, Lin, Tenzin, and Zhen moved through the gloom in silence, boots crunching faintly against debris. If someone wanted to hide here, they probably won't be found for a while.
Of the four, only Zhen seemed remotely amused. He let his eyes drift over the scene, soaking in every broken light, every rusted girder with an almost childlike curiosity.
"This looks like a nice place to live…" he muttered to himself, a faint smile curling at the edge of his mouth. Though it didn't stop the others from overhearing,
Korra turned just in time to see him wandering a few steps off course, his head tilted toward a sagging piece of scaffolding.
She caught his arm with a strong grip and tugged him back to her side.
"Where do you think you're going?" she hissed, yanking him into step. "Stay beside me before you get lost again"
Zhen blinked, his expression caught somewhere between sheepish and amused, but he didn't argue.
"Where is this 'informant'?" Lin's voice cut through the dark, already edged with impatience despite just arriving. She scanned the shadows under the bridge with narrowed eyes. "Are we sure this isn't some ambush we're walking into?"
Before anyone could answer, a soft hiss cut through the silence. "Psst. Over here"
The voice was low—as they had been trying to stay hidden.
All heads turned toward the sound, except for Zhen, whose gaze wandered completely somewhere else.
From behind one of the thick metal support beams, a figure emerged, shoulder hunched and movements anxious. The trench coat hung loose on his frame, the brim of his cap pulled low, casting his face in shadow.
ZYUREN
AGE: 46
STATUS: Equalist Traitor
He kept glancing over his shoulder, his fingers twitching at the collar of his coat as he raised it higher to obscure more of his face.
"Listen" Zyuren began, wasting no time. His voice trembled from urgency. "I joined the Equalist because I believed in what Amon said. I thought he could make life better for us nonbenders"
He paused to check the empty street behind them again, then turned back, the tension coiling in his voice like a spring.
"But I didn't sign up for this…" his tone darkened, but his stance was made clear. "This war"
Lin stepped forward, her boots crunching softly against gravel as she took the lead in questioning. "What do you have on Hiroshi Sato?"
The informant looked her dead in the eye. "The Avatar's instincts were right, he's the one who manufactured those gloves for the Equalists"
The words were barely out of his mouth when Korra's voice bursted out before she could contain it.
"I knew it!" Her hands clenched at her sides, a spark of vindication flashing through her eyes.
But Zyuren wasn't finished. His eyes fitted across the shadows, like a hunted animal bracing for the snap of a trap.
"And there are rumors…" he muttered, barely above a whisper. "That he's working on something even bigger. Some new kind of weapon"
The heavy implication hung in the air. But there was still one pressing issue. A missing piece.
"We searched all of Future Industries. Every warehouse, ever factory. We found nothing" Tenzin pointed out, frowning deeply, his voice measured but with clear frustration.
Zyuren shook his head, sharply glancing at him. "That's because you were looking in the wrong place. He has a secret factory where he does all his inventions"
Korra's breath hitched, her attention narrowing. "Then where?"
The informant took a moment, as if the next sentence might seal his fate. "It's right underneath the Sato mansion"
A stunned silence followed, broken only by the distant hum of a passing vehicle nearby. All three of them gasped, stood frozen in disbelief.
All this time… it had been right beneath them.
—————————————————————————————
[Much Later, On the Way to the Sato Estate]
The steady drone of the police blimp vibrated through the air, the low hum beneath the tension tightening in the cabin. Officers checked their gear in silence, their movements brisk and practiced. Lin moved among them, her voice low as she gave final instructions. Tenzin stood beside her the entire time, arms folded.
Toward the back, Korra sat cross-legged on the metal floor, the chill of it grounding her. Her eyes drifted toward Lin and Tenzin gazing down on the City through the open window, though her mind wandered far beyond them.
She was right… she knew she was right—but still, something twisted uneasily in her gut.
"You doing alright, Avatar?"
Zhen's voice broke through the static hush. He leaned casually against the wall beside her, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette that was halfway finished.
Korra looked up at him, resting her arms across her knees.
"Yeah" she said, a little too fast. "Just looking forward to finally getting back at Amon"
She brought a fist into her opposite palm with a muted clap, but there was no fire behind it. Her words didn't bite—they hung there, lukewarm, like an echo of what she thought she should feel.
"We aren't even sure if that intel's legit" Zhen let her know, his tone calm but grounded in realism. Her jerked a thumb toward Zyuren, seated off to the side, cuffed and silent. "That's why we brought him"
Korra's brows pinched as she looked up at him, doubt pressing against her thought. "You don't think he's innocent either, do you?"
The question wasn't combative—it was quiet, searching. Not for facts, but for something to steady her. Reassurance.
Zhen took a drag from his cigarette, then leaned slightly down.
"Well, I trust you" with a finger, he tapped the center of her forehead, barely enough to ruffle her hair.
"Ack—hey!" though Korra still snapped, pulling back and shielding the spot with her hand. Her eyes narrowed in playful protest.
He just smirked and exhaled a slow ribbon of smoke.
"Should be the only thing that matters, right?" He said simply, then turned, waving lazily behind him as he walked off—trailing wisps of smoke like a shadow of thought left hanging in the air as he said one more thing. "We're almost there, you should get ready"
Korra watched him go, her expression confused. Then, faintly, her lips pulled into a smile.
He had no idea where he was going.
Up front, Lin and Tenzin stood side by side, voices low and tense, preparing for what waited on the ground as the Sato Estate came into view.
—————————————————————————————
[Same Time, Sato Estate]
The warm hum of soft music drifted through the lavish parlor of the Sato manor. Between ornate columns and velvet-lined furniture, the younger ferret lounged lazily on a chaise, a bowl of fruits on his lap and the unmistakable air of someone growing increasingly bored.
BOLIN
AGE: 16
STATUS: Enjoying himself a bit too much
"Man… when's Korra coming back~?" he groaned through a mouthful, tossing a grape into his mouth. "You two are sucking all the fun out of everything"
Mako didn't answer, neither did Asami. Curled together on the adjacent soft. They were lost in quiet conversation, her laughter soft and his smile warm. Bolin didn't even stare at them but he could feel their atmosphere radiating toward him, deadpan. Third-wheeling in luxury wasn't really as fun as being alone.
But his rescue came not from Korra—or boredom's mercy.
It came with a thunderous crash.
The grand double doors slammed open, rattling the chandelier above as a wave of metal and uniforms surged in. Officers flooded the room, their boots hitting marble like war drums, arms raised and expressions hardened.
Bolin yelped like a startled animal, half-jumping from his seat as his hands shot into the air, fruits spilling across the floor.
Mako reacted much more defensively. In a blink, he was on his feet, stepping instinctively in front of Asami, his hands curling into fists.
As Lin and Tenzin stepped into the room behind the swarming officers, Asami remained seated, her expression sharpening into a glare. She crossed her legs slowly, deliberately, and leveled her eyes at the chief.
"What is the meaning of this?" she asked, her voice just short of a yell. "I thought the investigation into my dad was closed"
Lin didn't answer right away. Her eyes swept across the room, analyzing every detail.
Then she replied, flat and firm. "We have reason to believe there's a factory hidden below the mansion"
"I think I would've noticed if there were a factory underneath my house!" Asami snapped, her posture stiffened at the assumption. "Is this really how far your lies are willing to go just to persecute my father?"
Behind Lin, Tenzin took a step forward, keeping the same measure calm in his tone. "Where is your father?"
Asami's jaw tightened, but she answered. "In his workshop. Behind the house"
—————————————————————————————
[Behind the Sato Estate]
Tucked behind the grand estate, the workshop stood squat and unassuming—a single-room structure of reinforced stone and cold steel. Its few narrow windows let in barely any light, and a long bulb hanging from the ceiling cast a sickly yellow hue over the doorframe.
The building gave no signs of life.
With a sharp command from Chief Lin, the metalbending officers surged forward. Their armor clanked dully as they bent the door open with a sudden wrench of steel, forcing it to groan and snap free from its hinges.
One by one, they swept into the room in tight formation, boots thudding against concrete as they fanned out with practiced precision, securing every corner in seconds.
Asami trailed close behind, her eyes scanning the dim space.
"Dad? Hello?" she called, her voice echoing slightly off the walls.
Silence.
The workshop was empty—save for the hum of the lightbulb above and the steady movements of the officers searching a space that felt far too quiet.
"The estate's been cleared, Chief" one of the officers reported. "No one's left the workshop since we've arrived"
"Or perhaps" Lin commented, more to the room than anyone in particular. "We just couldn't see him leave"
She stepped forward, hands clasped neatly behind her back as her boots clicked against the concrete. Her gaze swept the space with the eyes of a hawk—lingering on the corners of shelves, the faint trails of dust, the quiet stillness that showed nothing… and yet, suggested something.
Reaching the room's center, she paused. A slow breath passed through her lips. Then, wordlessly, she shifted her stance.
She raised one leg, poised—and drove her heel down with deliberate force. The steel soles of her boots retracted with a soft hiss, baring her feet to the cold floor like a blade drawn from its sheath.
A subtle tremor pulsed against her skin, leading outward. The vibrations slithered beneath the surface like ripples in still water, feeding images directly into her senses. Every crack in the stone, every shift in the soil, every rat scurrying below.
And then she found it.
"There's a tunnel" she said, opening her eyes with quiet certainty. "Directly beneath the workshop. It runs deep into the mountain side"
"What? There's no tunnel" Asami wasn't guessing—she had full confidence in her statement. She knew. Or at least, she thought she did.
But Lin wasn't interested in debating facts. With a fluid motion, she raised her arms, and the metal floor responded. A sheet of steel peeled back like fabric torn from a bed, shrieking as it slid aside.
Beneath it, a hidden staircase revealed itself, spiraling down to a dim metal platform lined with railings and a control panel placed in the middle. Tracks curved away into the darkness, vanishing into the mountain's hollow gut.
For a moment, no one spoke. The truth stared up at them from the open wound in the earth.
"Do you think your dad knows about this tunnel?" Bolin whispered to Asami, his voice low, but it was unsure if it was meant as a joke or he was being genuinely clueless.
"I don't understand…" Asami murmured, her brows furrowed, eyes fixed on the gaping void. "There must be an explanation"
Korra stepped beside her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.
"Maybe you don't know everything about your father…" she spoke slowly, carefully. A flicker of guilt passing through her features. "I'm sorry…"
But the professionals don't have time for sympathy.
Lin's voice rang out, commanding. "Officers, into the tunnel"
At once, the metalbenders snapped into motion. Boots echoed in unison as the squad of a dozen assembled, filing into twin columns with organized discipline.
Lin gestured toward their informant with a glance. "And bring him with us. Be careful"
The officers moved like a single machine, two by two disappearing down the steps.
Mako, Bolin, and Asami took a step forward to follow.
"Uh. Uh. You three stay up here"
But Lin's voice halted them before their feet could touch the first step.
She turned to an officer stationed at the rear. "Officer Song. Keep an eye on them"
Song nodded with a salute, stepping aside from the entrance.
Tenzin was next to descend, his robes sweeping behind him. Korra and Zhen followed from the rear, the faint click of Zhen's heavy boots punctuated by the quiet drag of smoke still curling from between his fingers.
Halfway down, Korra paused. She looked back.
At the top, her friends lingered.
Asami stood frozen, her lips parted as if wanting to protest, needing answers more than she needed air. Bolin was unreadable, but his hands were clenched into fists, his usual levity gone.
And Mako… he wasn't looking at the tunnel like the other two. He was looking at her.
Their eyes locked for just a second.
He opened his mouth—then shut it. Whatever he was about to say, he buried it instead, gaze falling to the ground as if ashamed.
Korra said nothing. She turned and continued downward, each step echoing into the dark below.
—————————————————————————————
[Same Time, Somewhere else]
"I got word…" the voice slipped from the shadows like smoke. "They entered"
A figure stood just outside the dim glow cast by a flickering lamp above a doorway, cloaked in the alley's damp breath.
His hood concealed most of his face, but the hiss of vented steam rose from the seams of his mask, and every subtle motion gave way to the soft whirr of clockwork mechanisms woven into his frame.
"STEAM"
AGE: ???
STATUS: ???
"We should go" he suggested quietly, his voice calm with patience.
His gaze shifted down to the smaller figure stepping beside him, who was tightening the straps of something in her hands.
"I'm almost ready" she replied, fastening the final piece of her mask with a click. "Just putting my smile one"
SERA
AGE: 16
STATUS: "NEEDLE"
Her voice carried the usual sweetness to it—almost playful. As the mask slid into place, it transformed her atmosphere entirely.
Steam reached out and gently rested a heavy hand atop her head, careful not to damage the wire s or thin armor at her nape. It wasn't affection exactly—but it was the closest it came to it.
"It's your last job" he said, more of assurance than a promise. "I hope you have a good life after this"
She didn't answer. Just pulled her hood up and nodded once, closing the door behind her.
And together, they vanished into the dark of the night, only the sound of steam venting out each step left behind.
—————————————————————————————
[Under the Sato Mansion]
The platform groaned as it descended deeper into the earth, metal scraping against rail with a long, jarring screech. Dust billowed from the tracks below, cloaking the air in a pale, choking haze.
When it finally lurched to a halt beside a narrow walkway, a sharp clang echoed through the underground chamber.
The gate creaked open.
The metalbenders surged forward, slipping into formation with organized training. They advanced down the dim tunnel, footsteps heavy, arms poised for whatever ambush might be waiting.
Behind them came Lin, Tenzin, and Korra, followed quietly by the chained Zyuren.
But Korra slowed when she heard a grunt behind her, the sound echoed awkwardly in the hollow space. She turned to see Zhen hunched over the platform's rail, tugging at one of the bars with both hands.
"What are you doing?" she asked, stepping toward him, her brow raised.
He glanced at her, teeth clenched with concentration. "Well, I'm not exactly armed right now"
Korra sighed, took hold of the rail beside him, and gave it a single, firm pull. The bar snapped free with surprising ease, metal shrieking as it detached.
She paused for a second, almost thrown off by how light it felt—hollow, maybe. Cheaply made. There was no opening to see inside, it was like a sealed tube. She frowned at it but gave a small shrug.
"Here. It's something" she handed it over. "Now let's go"
Zhen took the makeshift weapon with a short nod. "Thanks"
It wasn't exactly ideal—just a length of hollow steel—but it would do. He fell into step behind her as they moved after Lin and Tenzin, the narrow bar tapping softly against his leg with every step.
Ahead, a pale glow spilled through the end of the corridor, growing brighter with every step until they emerged into an expansive chamber—immense, sterile, and humming faintly with artificial light.
The floor stretched far in front of them, polished smooth and swept clean, with just enough room to dock a small airship. High above, Equalist banners unfurled from the ceiling like bold declarations, their red and black insignias glaring down from the rafters like watchful eyes.
"Guess we're in the right place" Zhen murmured, gaze drifting up to the propaganda.
The room felt like a showroom turned war factory.
He broke from the group without warning, already, veering toward a stack of crates near the edge of the room. One of the lids hung askew, revealing glimpses of dull equipment inside.
Korra instinctively moved after him, like a tether pulled taut. She was worried he'd get lost again.
"Look here" he called out, grabbing a mechanism from the crate. "It's one of those gloves they use"
Korra barely acknowledged it. Her gaze drifted past him, narrowing.
"And I'm guessing those are the new weapons"
Right in front of them, just beyond the reach of the overhead lights, something massive loomed in the shadows. Slowly, its shape resolved—hulking steel forms with segmented limbs and reinforced wheels, lined along the wall like a sleeping beast. Their exhaust ports stretched high toward a rusted catwalk, and each bore a rounded cockpit window, glinting like a cold, unblinking eye.
Zhen stepped back instinctively. There wasn't just one. Dozens stood silently in the dark, parked like cars.
They pushed deeper into the facility, the sheer scale of the space swallowing their voices, but no other movement aside from their own answered them. No engineers, no guards. Just the rows of machinery, humming faintly beneath layers of dustless polish.
"Hiroshi was lying alright" Tenzin's frustration started edging into his voice. "But where is he?"
CLANG!
The thunderous slam of metal echoed through the room as the main entrance behind them sealed shut. A heavy gate dropped with a mechanical finality, sealing them inside with nothing but the darkness.
—————————————————————————————
[Back in the Workshop]
BANG!
The crash echoed up from the depths below, a metallic roar that seemed to rattle the very floor beneath their feet. The cavern swallowed the noise almost as quickly as it came, offering no hint of its origin.
"What was that?" Bolin said aloud, voicing what they were all thinking.
"We need to get down there to see what's going on" Mako suggested immediately, already stepping forward.
But Officer Song raised a hand, his voice sharp. "Absolutely not. You're staying put til the Chief comes back"
His voice was less of a command and more reprimand, drawing an awkward pause from the group.
Mako held back, clenching his fists. But Bolin glanced sideways at his brother, eyes narrowed with unspoken intent. Mako caught the subtle look, and as if reading his mind, offered the faintest nod in return.
"Alright, alright~ We'll stay put" Mako shrugged with a toothy grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But can we maybe stay outside or something? It's so dusty in this workshop"
He made a show of rubbing his nose and squinting around the dim building, adding an exaggerated sniff for good measure.
"No. We're waiting right here" Officer Song said, as stiff as his posture, locked like a statue.
Mako raised his hands in mock surrender, still playing along. "Okay! But don't blame me if I start sne-sne—"
Song thought something was suspicious, but his eyes couldn't place it. Even Asami gave Mako a clueless glance, unsure whether she should be concerned or confused. Bolin, meanwhile, gently scuffed the floor with his boot, the picture of innocence.
Mako tensed his back, sucked in a deep breath through his nose, and doubled down on the performance. "If I start sne-sne-sne-sneeze…"
Song shifted uneasily. "What's your problem, bub?"
ACHOO!
With the exhale came a sudden burst of flame, blasting out from Mako's mouth in a dramatic, involuntary jet. The officer stumbled back with a startled yelp, instinctively shielding himself.
Bolin acted fast. The moment Song lost his footing, Bolin tapped his heel against the stone floor—earthbending a slab of rock behind him just as he staggered. Song hit it and tripped, going down flat.
"Sorry about this!" Bolin yelled out as he leaped with all the enthusiasm he had, elbow-first into the officer's back.
A sharp choked yelp of pain rang out as Song crumpled, winded, and almost lost consciousness.
"...That worked better than I thought" Mako said, lowering himself to grab the wire on the Officer's bracers.
It took a few minutes, but soon enough Officer Song sat bound against the wall, arms secured behind him, eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness.
"Sorry pal" Mako said, rising to his feet and brushing off his hands. There was a faint guilt pressing into his chest. "I know you were just doing your job"
"Yeah" though Bolin, less burdened by the sentiment, crouched beside the barely conscious man with a mischievous grin.
"Just stay put til the Chief comes back" he mimicked in the same stiff tone Song had used earlier. "Sound familiar? I think so. Why? Cause you said it"
Mako gave him a look, but couldn't help the twitch at the corner of his mouth. "That's enough. Let's go"
He clapped Bolin's shoulder. With a playful salute, Bolin spun around and made his way toward the stairs leading deeper in the tunnel.
Mako turned to follow, but stopped when he felt a quiet presence step up behind him. Asami.
She hadn't said a word yet, but her intent was clearly in the set of her jaw and the subtle tension in her shoulders.
Gently, he turned to face her, placing both hands on her arms, steady and warm.
"Asami, you should stay here" he said softly, almost comforting. "We'll check it out"
But she shook her head before the words had even settled. "I have to find out the truth about my father"
"I understand…" he said, voice steady despite the twist in his stomach. "That's why I'm going down. To find out for you"
His eyes met hers—earnest, open, filled with something quieter than fear, something more resolute.
"Please…" he added, barely above a whisper.
Her gaze held his for a moment, sharp… but then it softened, faltered. She looked away, her expression drawn tight with reluctant trust.
"Alright…"
He gave her a hug—brief, restrained, not like the embraces they were used to sharing. Then he stepped back, the moment already slipping out of reach. Without another word, he turned to follow after Bolin into the shadows below.
"Be careful…" Asami called after him, her voice catching the edge of the silence.
Mako paused only to nod once, then vanished down the steps.
Asami remained behind.
Alone now.
But they should have checked first if she was safe—because leaving her up here without any means of defense? That was the real mistake.
"I told you it was here" a voice chirped, light and high-pitched, like laughter echoing down an empty hallway. "You made us search the entire mansion for nothing!"
"Sorry" came the reply, slower and thicker, as if pushed through the mask. "Could have sworn it was the other way"
Asami turned slowly, breath catching in her throat.
Two figures stood near the far wall, looming over the still-bound Officer Song like shadows stretching at dusk. Robes draped their bodies like thick folds, their faces hidden, but there was no mistaking their ease, their control.
One of them—taller, broader—held a clipboard in armored hands, thumbing through the pages with mechanical focus.
"Is he on the list?" Needle asked, twirling a long, gleaming needle between nimble fingers.
Song flinched, sweat glistening at his temple, rolling in slow rivulets down his skin. He tried to move, to speak—but the tape across his mouth held firm, leaving only the frantic movement of his eyes.
Steam squinted at the clipboard, bringing it close to his face with a metallic hiss from the joints in his arms. He flipped through the names with quiet focus until he paused. "This one? Song?"
"Should be" the petite girl replied, voice sharpening like the point of her needle.
She crouched beside the officer, her posture calm but coiled, as if ready to pounce.
Asami backed away—quietly, breath shallow, heel brushing against a loose nut on the floor.
She froze, praying it wouldn't roll.
"Abuse of power…. extorting nonbender-owned shops…" Needle began to recite, her words slow and rhythmic, like an executioner's prayer.
Asami could feel it from halfway across the room—a tightening, suffocating pressure that made her throat close.
"Working with the triad…" her voice was still sweet, but it had turned… wrong.
With each accusation, the air around her grew heavier, like a storm building behind her lips.
Song thrashed his head in wild desperation, the whites of his eyes shining like flares in the room. Muffled please bled from beneath the gag—it was pitiful, just wet sounds of someone begging to be heard.
Needle didn't even spare him a glance.
"Make this quick" Steam ordered, tapping the face of a battered stopwatch with a gloved finger. "We still need to get below"
"Fine~ Fine~" She sang, voice sharp with mockery, her fingers dancing with the weapon like a ballerina in rehearsal. She turned her gaze toward her partner, just briefly.
And Song took the opportunity to move.
It wasn't much—more of a desperate lurch than a true escape—but he writhed forward, dragging himself like something gut-shot. A worm, stripped of dignity, fighting for a miracle that he doesn't even know if it'll ever come.
Then—
Shlk!
The sound sliced the air as steel kissed flesh.
A shudder ripped through his body, a violent spasm that sent his shoulders seizing, his torso buckling.
The cold of the blade didn't register at first—only the wrongness of it. Then it hit him: the searing chill, the metallic burn of something slicing deep through his thigh, severing the line between willpower and control.
MMMPH! MMNNGGHH!
Tears streamed freely, not from sorrow but shock. His mouth worked beneath the gag, trying to scream, trying to breathe, as blood pulsed hot and slick down his leg, pooling beneath him.
"Calm down" Needle sighed, her tone as bored as someone watching the news. "It's not like I hit something important"
With a twisted grace, she twisted the blade deeper, just enough to make him jerk again—then yanked it free in one clean motion. The wet sound of steel leaving flesh echoed louder than it should have.
Yip!
The gasp slipped from Asami;s throat before she could stop it, a tiny cry she tried to strangle behind her hand. Heart hammering, she backed away into the stairwell leading down to the tunnel, delicately moving as if she was crossing glass barefoot.
Her breath shook. Every creak of the metal beneath her felt like it screamed. Still, she kept going, inching back into the darkness.
"I was wondering what's taking so long"
A voice behind her.
It didn't boom. Didn't snarl. It barely whispered—but it froze her blood all the same.
"Who's this pretty lady?" It continued, soft and drawled, like its breath was being taken away with each word.
Asami turned, slowly.
At the base of the stairs, veiled in shadow, stood a figure. An Equalist. It was hard to tell his expression through the mask but his posture showed alertness, twin short swords idle in his grip, pointed low.
He tilted his head up toward her, staring blankly through green goggles.
Stepping into the light spilling down from above, the details came into focus—his uniform worn, sleeves tattered, the unmistakable splatter of dried blood clinging to the fabric like a second skin. His blades, though, gleamed spotless.
QORU
AGE: 19
STATUS: "PHANTOM"
"Hey!" he called, voice bouncing along the narrow stone walls of the tunnel. "Is this one on the list?"
"No" came Needle's voice from above. A beat passed. "Well… yes?"
Asami's head snapped back toward the landing—Needle and Steam were already standing before her, silhouetted blocking what little escape route she had left. Their presence looming like the closing of a trap.
"This one's special" Steam added, his eyes scanning the final page on his clipboard.
A page with her name.
—————————————————————————————
[Underground]
Back in the depths below, tension coiled thick in the stale air as the officers and Korra found themselves sealed in.
Chief Lin was the first to instinctively move. She braced herself, plating her boots into the dirt, muscles tensing as she threw her arms skyward with a growl of effort—trying to metalbend the wall with all her strength.
Nothing.
The wall in front of her didn't so much as groan. Not even a simmer of resistance.
A voice crackled through the shadows, amplified like a voice through a megaphone. "I believe you won't be able to metalbend that wall, Chief Beifong"
A cold glow began to trace its way across the dark—green line of energy igniting in sequence, forming a spine of light across the chamber walls.
"It's solid platinum" the voice continued.
Whr—!
Whr—!
Whr—!
Mechanical groans echoed as hulking silhouettes began to rise. One by one, a squad of dormant vehicles stirred to life, hissing and grinding as their joints straightened from their crouched rest.
The ground trembled as they scraped their wheels across the stone floor. Headlights flared, casting an eerie green wash over the group.
"My mecha tanks" the voice purred from above. "Are made of platinum as well"
The source was obvious—one of the steel giants, its cockpit glowing from within. A figure sat at the center of it all, hands on the controls as if conducting an orchestra.
HIROSHI SATO
AGE: 50
STATUS: Equalist Loyalist
"Not even your renowned Mother could bend a metal so pure" Hiroshi declared, spitting the words like gospel truth.
"Hiroshi!" Korra stepped forward, face lit by the green glow, anger simmering just beneath her skin. "I knew you were a lying piece of shit Equalist! Come out here and—"
"And do what Young Avatar?" he cut her off, voice smug, fingers tightening over the controls.
From his vantage point, he wasn't helpless. He was a king in a fortress of steel. He looked down on them like he was addressing servants.
"Do you want me to face the wrath of your bending?" A chuckled buzz through speakers, cool and venom-laced. "No, no… I think I'll stay in here where my odds are a little more… equal"
"You set us up!" Lin barked, spinning to glare at Zyuren. Her voice rang out like a whip. "You lured us down here!"
However, the middle-man didn't flinch. No sly grin. No knowing smirk.
Just genuine confusion.
His brows furrowed. Eyes wide. The surprise on his face didn't look fake.
"As much as I'd love to tell you my plans" Hiroshi's voice crackled through his safety chamber, laced with mockery "I believe we are short on time"
Without even a proper warning, a lever slammed forward inside the cockpit.
CLANG—!
Cabled launched from the mecha tanks, steel claws hissing as they shot through the air like striking vipers.
Korra ducked out of the way, her boots skidding across the floor as one claw missed her by inches. Lin twisted to the side, spinning with precision, while Tenzin leapt backward, robes snapping in the wind.
"Scatter!" Lin barked, even as the other tanks roared forward, their heavy limbs pounding the ground mimicking war drums.
Officer behind them scrambled into motion, splitting off into formation.
"Keep the informant safe!" came Lin's sharp command—then she was gone, just like a hawk diving for its prey, she launched herself atop one of the towering machines.
One mecha pulled back its arm, joints steaming, before slamming it down the ground. The impact cracked the stone beneath, sending dust and shrapnel into the air.
Officers dove aside, barely avoiding the crushing blow, and quickly retaliated—cables flung out of their wrists, wrapping tightly around the thick mechanical limbs.
Though massive with inhuman strength, the machines struggled against the coordinated assault. The Equalists pilots fought back with brute force, but the officers' agility and battle prowess was overwhelming. Wire snared their arms, wheels, and even the claws—keeping them at bay, one by one.
Lin, perched on one of the tanks, shaped the metal around her wrists into blades. With a grunt, she dove them straight through the cockpit's glass, the sound of shattering echoing across the chamber. Sparks and shards exploded outward as the Equalist inside thrashed to avoid her attacks, losing control.
The machine staggered, whirled violently, and crashed into scaffolding with a violent screech.
Still, Hiroshi held strong. Though Korra's flammes washed over the tank's armor, the platinum shell repelled every spark. And every time he advanced, a gust of Tenzin's wind knocked him back, whirling with such force it rocked the tank.
They were holding their own—well, barely. Steam curled from the taut cables anchoring the mechas, growing hotter with each second. The officers had begun anchoring themselves with the earth, locking their feet in place as the tension threatened to tear them from the ground.
"You're out of options, Hiroshi!" Korra shouted, relentless in her assault as fire poured out from her fists, as if her rage was taking shape. "Your mechs are useless!"
Inside the cockpit, Hiroshi growled, sweat beading despite the insulation. The heat, the pressure—none of it reached the interior, but it reached him.
Her fire didn't burn the metal—but it burned his pride.
"What are you still doing?! Get them!" he bellowed, slamming the controls. But no one answered. His soldiers were being taken down, one after another.
Or—almost no one.
—————————————————————————————
[Meanwhile…]
Behind the lines, away from the chaos, two officers held their ground in a protective wedge. Shielded by their defenses, Zhen stood quietly. Beside him, Zyuren trembled.
His breathing was sharp. Erratic. Sweat clung to his skin as he seized one of the officers' shoulders.
"W-we have to get out of here!" he hissed, eyes wide with dread. "We have to leave! Now!"
The officer frowned, grabbing Zyuren's arm and pulling him back. "Relax. The Chief's got it under control"
"You don't understand!" Zyuren's voice cracked. Panic surged through every word that left his mouth. "If this is a trap—then he's coming! We have to leave!"
With a sudden desperation, he grabbed Zhen by the collar.
The two officers exchanged a glance. A silent question mark passed between them.
Zhen merely shrugged, unbothered by the situation.
The older officer scoffed, brushing Zyuren aside like swatting away an insect. "Whoever it is—it won't matter. By the time they show, everything'll be over"
The other officer took a step closer, voice low but firm. "Yeah, we'll be fine. Now let him go"
But Zyuren didn't. His knuckles were white against Zhen's shirt. His eyes erratically glancing around as if he was watching every dark corner of the space.
As if something in the shadows was coming to get him.
"This guy is going nuts" one of the officers made their annoyance audible, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly agitated. "Should we just knock him out?"
Zhen raised a quieting hand, fingers curling slightly around Zyuren's arm. His voice calm, disturbingly so. "It's fine. I mean… he's pretty much right"
"See? See?! So we gotta—guack—!"
Zyuren's words died, the air stolen from his lungs. A wet gasp escaped him, then another.
Panic replaced the urgency in his eyes as something inside his throat gave way. A sick, gurgling sound rose from him—then blood sprayed.
Red flecked across Zhen's face.
"What in the—"
Both officers recoiled instinctively, eyes wide as Zyuren choked, blood bubbling through his lips and seeping from beneath his skin. Every breath whistles out through his neck through a puncture in his windpipe.
He clutched his throat, blocking everything in. But the damage was done.
Zhen pushed him off, letting the trembling figure slide off the metal bar as they collapsed against the floor with a thud, a pool of red leaking behind.
One of the officers managed to recover first.
"Get him!" he barked, firing his cable.
Zhen moved in one quick motion, he grabbed Zyuren's leg, dead weight or not, and hurled him like a weapon. The dying man's body hit with a sickening crack, blood splashing across the officer who caught him.
The second officer dodged, landing with a slide. He launched another wire—this one caught Zhen's wrist, snapping tight around it.
"This is Unit 1-2, we're under attack!" the grounded officer shouted into his earpiece, clutching the wound on Zyuren's neck to keep him alive. "I repeat. We're un—"
The metal spike ripped through the side of his head, the report ending in a wet squelch. His body fell like a puppet with severed strings, the piece of metal clanging on the ground as the pool of blood spread beneath him.
"Damn it!" the surviving officer hissed, holding onto the taut cable as Zhen strained against it, a brutal tug of war that bent both their arms backward.
But then Zhen stared at his arm turning blue. His breath hitched, a brow raising as a thought crossed his mind.
'Wait a minute…' he thought as he stopped pulling.
And then he ran—straight toward the officer, not away.
The sudden momentum jerked the officer backward. He stumbled, caught off guard, losing his footing just long enough.
Zhen twisted, slipping behind him in a blur. Before the officer could steady himself, the wire around Zhen's wrist wrapped around his neck. A jerk. A pull. Steel closed like a vice.
"Guek—wait!" he choked as rationality left him as his breath did.
The officer thrashed, hands clawing at the wire, skinning his neck beneath his nails. He completely forgot about bending in his panic. A choked gasp. A desperate struggle. Then, he was quiet.
Eve after the body slumped, Zhen kept pulling.
Tighter. Until something breaks. Something snaps.
But he let the corpse fall before he could.
"... Not this one" he caught his breath, panting.
His foot pressed down the corpse just beside, grabbing the end of the metal spike. He snapped the thin metal, revealing it was but a casing.
Inside the bar—hidden until now—a hilt.
He pulled it free, pushing the corpse away with his boot. From the casing came a black, platinum blade, ominous but clean.
He turned it in his hand, thumb brushing over a switch. "I wonder if this works…"
He gave it a few measured swings, testing weight and balance, admiring the weapon.
Then something tugged at his ankle.
He looked down.
Zyuren is still alive, somehow. Barely. His body turning cold, trembling in its final shivers, blood painting his neck in deep, wet flows.
One shaking hand reached up, the fingers twitching like broken antennae. His eyes, not bloodshot and wide, locked onto Zhen's face.
For the first time since becoming an Equalist, Zyuren finally saw him.
No mask. No alias to hide behind. Just a face. A human's face.
Something cracked in Zyuren's gaze—not bone, not muscle, but belief. As in that final moment, the illusion shattered. What he thought of as a beast, a spirit with no heart, was nothing but a young man.
His lips parted, gurgling, trying to shape words that would never come. But blood took their place. He couldn't beg. He couldn't curse. He could only stare at him as he saw nothing beyond those crimson eyes.
Zhen understood him, reversing the grip on his new sword.
"Orders are orders" he whispered coldly.
With a quick motion, he drove the blade down. Straight through Zyuren's chest.
Muscle split. Bone cracked. The heart gave one last, pitiful twitch before surrendering to cold steel. The breath caught in Zyuren's throat didn't escape—it died there, strangled in silence.
Then… nothing.
No sound but the hum of stillness. No movement but the slow rise and fall of Zhen's chest.
The weight of the moment didn't press down on him.
It simply passed through.
And when he pulled the sword free, it slid it just as easily.
—————————————————————————————
[Same Time]
The chaos was about to dull into order. Two mechs now lay smoldering husks, their armor warped and bleeding steam, while the remaining three buckled under the combined might of police units grappling to keep them still—metal titans brought to their knees.
But at the center of it all, Hiroshi still stood defiant in the belly of his platinum giant, surrounded by two relentless forces of nature.
Tenzin's voice thundered above the hum of the wind. "Give it up Hiroshi!"
Air lashed from his hands in roaring currents that rattled the metal plating. The sheet pressure tilted the mech off balance, causing its wheels to scrape and skid across the fractured concrete.
"We're taking you in!"
But Hiroshi didn't flinch. His face, lit by sparks and warning lights inside the flickering cockpit, twisted into grim defiance.
"I'll die before I surrender in the hands of you benders!" He spat, flipping switches with a trembling hand. The console around him sparked wildly, gauges spinning as steam hissed from ruptured vents—the machine buckling from the inside out.
Tenzin kept the gale alive, his robes snapping violently around him as the wind howled.
Then a roar—not from the absent sky, but from the earth itself.
Fire ignited behind Korra, erupting from her heels and fists like the blast of an engine. Her body hurled forward in a streak of orange, like a comet.
The mech's arms jerked, firing a cable in a hurry—but Korra drifted through the air like a current of flame, just out of reach. The steel wire cracked against the pavement behind her.
She closed in. Just before mechanical golem, she dropped low, sliding across the broken floor, embers trailing in her wake. Her boots scraped sparks as she braced, ars crossing before her chest.
A sharp motion—her fists uncurling into open palms, fingers dragging through the air as if tearing through it.
The ground beneath Hiroshi shuddered.
Then it broke.
The pavement cracked like splitting ice, veins of pressure exploding outward from beneath his mech. The machine lurched violently as the earth opened beneath it, swallowing the steel wheels in a jagged maw of stone and dirt.
With a thunderous groan, it sank halfway into it, its body contorted and trapped in the makeshift tomb.
Smoke hissed upward. Sparks burst from its joints. The titan stilled as the lights slowly shut down.
"We got him!" Korra cheered, a fierce breath of relief bursting from her lungs as she spun around. Her eyes found Tenzin just a few steps back.
He let his stance drop, exhaling as the tension finally loosened from his frame.
Shlk!
But a wet, sickening sound tore through the moment—and through him. A blade, glinting in the last remnants of battle-light despite its dark color, burst through his abdomen.
"W-what?" he gasped, voice unraveling as blood filled his mouth, staining the edge of every word.
"Tenzin!" Korra's voice cracked with horror, her boots pounding against the stone as she lunged forward.
He tried to hold the blade—trembling fingers brushing the edge—before it slid free from his body, slick with his blood.
His knees buckled. He collapsed forward, palms crashing against the pavement, air rasping from his lungs in shallow bursts.
Still fighting, even now, he bent the air around his wound, trying to press the gale into a seal. But his strength faltered with every heartbeat.
Korra stopped. Her feet locked in place.
She couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Her eyes, wide and trembling—like the ocean under a storm, lifted past the crumpling form of her mentor and landed on the figure standing beside him.
Wiping the blood off his sword.
His expression, blank. It was as if he wore a mask.
Zhen.
He stared back at her. His blood red eyes pierced through her gaze.
Her voice barely came. Just a whisper. Just his name.
"...Zhen?"
End