Zuko looked on at Omashu from atop his Rhino with a scowl.

"Of all the places the Avatar chose to flee to, it had to be Omashu. Getting inside will be a nightmare."

"Or, you could wait for him to leave, Prince Zuko. The Phantom might be an obstacle, but the King is a foe you're not ready for," General Iroh said.

He sat atop a mat he laid out, taking in the sunset with a fresh pot of tea.

Zuko growled, the memory of the fight fresh in his mind. He'd been drilling twice as hard since his defeat, yet it did nothing for his confidence.

"They have us running all over the Earth Kingdom like pig chickens," Zuko said. "Once they start moving again, tracking them down will be impossible. I cannot lose to Zhao."

Zuko saw General Iroh squinting and followed his eyes to an entourage of Fire Nation soldiers marching up to them, with Commander Zhao at the lead.

"I think it's time we left, Uncle," Zuko said, but General Iroh raised a hand.

"Patience, Prince Zuko. Zhao would not approach us so openly if he didn't have something to say."

"Probably here to gloat."

"Or he may carry news from the heartland."

Zhao was his usual self. He wore his commander's uniform proudly, his chin raised high, and his hair was freshly oiled. The only thing amiss was the perpetual smirk on his face.

"Prince Zuko. Your dedication to hunting the Avatar borders on obsessive, though it's inadequate. You must have worked your crew to the bone trying to beat me here."

"My men are fully dedicated to my mission," Zuko said easily. "They understand what's at stake."

"Then, they'll be disappointed to learn that your mission is over."

Zuko's eyes went wide. "You have him?"

"You're not one for lies and exaggeration, Commander Zhao," Iroh said, standing up. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this meeting?"

"You know me so well, General Iroh," Zhao finally smirked. He snapped his fingers, and a Soldier ran up and handed him a sealed scroll with the seal of the Firelord. "I bring glad tidings from the Firelord. It would seem there's hope for you yet, Prince Zuko."

Zuko hesitated as Zhao handed him the scroll and looked up at the man, not quite believing what he held in his hand. He couldn't stop them from shaking.

"Open it, Prince Zuko," General Iroh urged, and he did.

'Upon the request of the Avatar of Fire, I have decided to lift your banishment conditions, Zuko.'

Zuko's heart stopped as he read those words.

'You may return to the Heartland and claim your place at my side if you conquer the City of Omashu and put the Earth King to death. You may capture the False Avatar, and his Spirit companion should the opportunity present itself, but you're otherwise permitted to stop your mission to apprehend the bald child.

Commander Zhao and a greater host of Soldiers are here to support your conquest, as are several Earth benders who've sworn loyalty to the Avatar of Fire.

You are not permitted to fail this mission, Zuko, for the punishment will be more severe than a simple scar.

You are descended from the line of Kings. Prove it to me,

Firelord Ozai.'

A dozen emotions warred in Zuko's heart before he finally settled on Determination. When Uncle Iroh asked for the scroll, he handed it to him while he asked.

"Who is the Avatar of Fire?"

"Has your obsession completely robbed you of your senses, or do you truly have no remaining connection to the heartland?" Zhao raised a brow.

"Just tell me," Zuko insisted.

"He appeared a few months ago. He's a true prodigy in fire-bending if I have ever seen one, and he's better than even Azula. The priest legitimized him after they received a vision that showed them that the world had rejected the Old Avatar and had chosen a new champion to lead the world to a new age of prosperity and advancement. His name is Samir, and he's the Avatar of Fire, and anyone who's challenged him has died a very horrible death."

Iroh frowned. "This is not right. The Avatar belongs to no Nation."

"Maybe the World finally grew tired of its coward of an Avatar and chose someone who could end this war," Zhao shrugged, then turned to Zuko.

"You have your orders. General Wei and the rest of the army are waiting on you."

Zuko felt a flicker of doubt in his heart that grew further with the disturbed look from his Uncle, but he squashed it.

"What do you intend to do about the Phantoms?" Zuko said. "I came across a young one on Kyoshi, and there are rumours that each major Earth Kingdom city has one in its walls."

"The Avatar of Fire has already dealt with the Phantom stationed in Omashu, and the welp will not be a problem," Zhao said with a vicious smile. "He killed my nephew and several fine men serving under him. The plans I have for him…."

Zuko held a grudge, but it seemed Zhao held a bigger one against the Phantom. He was all too happy to let it go if it brought him closer to his goal. "I will gather my crew then," Zuko said, "Where should we join you?"

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"I will leave a soldier to show you the way to our camp. We can't have Omashu learning of our attack too early."

Zuko nodded. Zhao sent a soldier forward with a wave of his hand, and the Commander gave him a rare nod of acknowledgment.

"I would be lying if I said I liked you, Prince, but I look forward to conquering Omashu alongside you."

"Likewise," Zuko said, the feeling mutual. Zuko would sooner swallow his tongue than break bread with Zhao, but now they had a common goal and enemy.

Zhoa left his retinue, leaving Zuko, his Uncle, and the soldier on the small hill where they watched the city from.

"Something is not right about all of this," Iroh said as they made their way down the hill and towards the town, where his crew were camped.

"It's certainly not the way I saw myself returning home, but it's a path nonetheless," Zuko said.

"The Ozai I remember was not one to forgive."

"Maybe the Avatar of Fire convinced him," Zuko added.

Uncle Iroh's stroked his beard, looking in the direction Zhao left. "Maybe."

---

When Ren returned from the meeting with a frown, Aaron knew his relationship with his grandfather would change forever.

Misha had sacrificed herself for them, and Grandfather had turned down her only request a day after her disappearance.

"Your Grandfather was rather firm about the matter. There are only so many of us left. Every Air Nation member is too valuable to be weak. If conflict were to break out, the boy needs to be able to protect himself," Father said, slowly shaking his head.

"Tell me what you think," Aaron said, "not what Grandfather thinks."

Ren appraised Aaron with something bordering on respect in his eyes.

"I love Misha like she's my own, and I want to respect her wishes, at least until we get her back—and we will—but Father makes a fantastic point. There are only 13 of us left in the world now. Every member is infinitely valuable, a child who displays the gift of bending, even more so."

I thought we were fighting this war so that those that come after us wouldn't have to fight and kill as we do," Aaron said. "I have killed many soldiers since I became a Phantom, and I have no doubt I'll kill many more before this war is over. But what would've been the point of all of that if we can't protect Peta and every kid that followed after him?"

Ren placed his hand on Aaron's shoulder. "The fighting never stops, not really. There will be lulls and times of quiet, but there will always be another battle to fight, another tyrant to kill. Because we fight doesn't mean your children or grandchildren will not," he said solemnly. "If we do our jobs really well, they'll have fewer fights ahead of them, but conflict is inevitable. It's human nature."

Aaron blinked, understanding his Father's words, but it did not make him hurt less, nor did it quell the rage or guilt.

"I sent her into Samir's clutches. How will I look Misha in the eye and tell her I couldn't fulfill her one request of me."

"You don't have to," Ren said. "The matter was out of your hand from the start, and she knew it." Ren shook his head. "I understand how you feel, but you must remember what I taught you."

"Duty came first, then you can break down," Aaron muttered with a hollow voice. "What are our new orders?"

"The Samir issue is being taken care of. Your grandfather has decided to capture the boy instead of killing him. Wang and his troupe will handle the mission. We are to remain with the Avatar and Mark and deliver them to Yara when they make their way to the Pole."

"Uncle Wang is coming out of retirement again?" Aaron raised a brow.

"Your Grandfather has commanded it. And you know he doesn't take No for an answer," Ren murmured.

"What about Omashu? The city is now expecting a Fire Nation to attack any day now?"

"It will just have to do without us." Ren's hand slid off his son's shoulders. "The King has been preparing for months. And there's a reason why no one has ever taken Omashu."

Ren's words were harsh, but they were true. The King could manage without them, and he was sure Mark did not desire to be trapped in a besieged city.

"But what of the Avatar? He may not leave if he learns of the coming attack."

"Without mastery of more elements and more experience, he'll just be in the way," Ren waved. "Let us find Mark and deliver the news."

They found Mark in the training grounds, facing off against Aang and Sokka. The boy had been taking lessons from one of King Bumi's soldiers and had since grown in skill.

Combined with Aang's mastery of the air, they were nearly too much for Mark, but the boy played for keeps.

Aang rode around him on an airball as he peppered him with wind blasts, while Sokka danced in and out with his wooden sword, trying to land hits. Still, Mark was ruthless and cautious, forming stone greaves around his hands to parry Sokka and shooting the occasional shot at Aang to try to take him out. Sokka's latest attack coordinated well with Aang. He lunged forward as soon as Mark raised a wall to shield him from the wind blast. The boy leaned to the side, letting the attack flow over him before wrapping his leg around Sokka's ankle and pulling. It forced the boy into a split, one that Mark easily helped him out of by pulling him closer just as Aang sent another air burst. It slammed into Sokka, who'd turned meatshield, and Aang panicked, dismounting from his Airball, which gave Mark the opening he needed to send a chunk of rock flying with a kick.

Aang dodged the attack easily enough, though.

"He's decent," Ren muttered.

"He has improved a lot since the tunnel," Aaron said with no small surprise in his voice. Their abilities truly made facing these 'Gamers' as Mark called them 'Nightmares.'

Mark balanced into a feather fist stance, summoning chunks of rock with which he coated both fists. With a fast jab, he sent them flying, shooting bullets of blitzing stone at the Avatar, who bowed, bent, flipped, and sent air to avoid each shot.

Both boys began to sweat shortly after, but Mark stopped first, groaning as his hand and core screamed out in protest. Aang used that opportunity to close the distance between them. The boy thrust out a powerful palm to end the fight, but Mark ducked under it, only to be met with a second palm that slammed into his chest and sent him spinning out. His shirt became undone, revealing an undershirt that was a mix of red, black, and gold. The body was red, with black sleeves and side flaps that buttoned up to gold circles in the collar.

Aang offered the boy a hand, which he took, as he swiped away the sweat running down his face.

"How did you get so fast so quickly?" Aang asked.

"It's this?" Mark grinned, tugging at the undergarment, looking Ren's way.

"One of the first rewards finally came through, and the Wing suit lives up to the hype. Boost my speed by 20% across the board. Airbenders get 22%, and of course, a built-in glider.

Aaron walked onto the sparring arena. "I've got next if you're up for it.." He was still exhausted after burning through most of his Chi in the fight with Vulcan, but he was curious.

Mark smiled. "Want to see for yourself, eh? Let me catch my breath, and you're on." With a snap of his fingers, he produced a scroll. "Here's the official schematics, by the way. The System was kind enough to provide me with a sample."

Aaron snatched the scroll out of the air and reviewed it. The design was simple enough. It was an undergarment made from dozens of interesting and slash-resistant materials, with retractable elastic flaps that angled from the pits and tucked below the collar. With quick air bending, you could attach and un-attach the flap for flight.

It was frankly genius and a game changer.

The schematics allowed for radical changes in the design, like more interesting colour ways, notes for fire-resistant materials, and even armour and how it affected the agility bonus.

Aaron looked up stunned, and muttered to his Father. "You need to see this."

Ren strode forward and took the scroll, and his face slowly came to mirror Aaron's. Going from shock to greed, reverence, then understanding.

Mark's smile blossomed into full-on maniacal laughter.

"I always make good on my promises," he said. To Aaron, he said. "I am ready when you are. I'm curious to see how I stack up against my teacher now."

Aaron could not imagine how much of a difference 20% of speed would have on his own combat effectiveness. It would've trivialized the fight with Vulcan.

"If that suit is as good as the schematics say it is," Aaron trailed off. "We need to get everybody we can into one of these. Imagine how much of a difference it would make, especially for the Older Chi-benders."

"That's a problem for the future, Mark," Mark said. "Right now, I want to see if I can knock that perpetual constipated look off your face."

"I don't have a constipated face," Aaron defended, suddenly conscious of his face, before he shook off the barb. It was clearly an obvious trick to get under his skin.

He breathed out slowly. Although he'd not fully recovered from the Vulcan mission, he felt he still had enough strength to show his arrogant student why he was the teacher.

"Bring it, he said, and the boy did bring it.

Kick and punch blended into a single movement, and suddenly a slab of rock spun toward Aaron. With a quick boost from the air, he spun around the attack and was besieged by dozens of chunks that followed up. Aaron wove through it all, sending gusts and wind blades that powered rock before he suddenly spun and sent a wave of dust rolling back. Mark braced for it, eating a chunk of rock to two to the torso before he rallied, sending a wave of rapidly flowing, thorny rocks at Aaron. Aaron flipped away in time, and as soon as he touched the floor, another wave followed, and a third followed.

Aaron's eyes narrowed before he boosted himself up in the air generating a rapid spinning ball of air he'd seen Aang use. He struggled to maintain it, but it kept him off the ground and the space he needed to use air to elevate a stone chunk and throw it at a location near Mark to test his theory.

The boy summoned a spike under the boulder moments after it touched the ground.

'He's tracking me,' Aaron thought. 'Seismic sense was a fairly advanced earth bending technique.'

Perhaps he needed to re-evaluate his student.

Like a stone bullet, he shot forward, and with a massive pull, he reversed the dust flow, blinding Mark completely. The Airball remained solid enough to bring him into sparring distance to Mark, and he buried a furious hook into the boy's gut that sent him flying back.

Aaron winced. He might've put a little bit too much force into that one.

Mark lost his lunch, but he still gingerly stood on his feet. He raised a wall of earth before sending potshots of earth over. Aaron sped up, avoiding attacks left and right, and vaulted over the entire structure, only to be met by a spray of broken, craggy rocks. Aaron wrapped himself in air, generating a geyser that raised him above most of the fans of impact. A single stone struck his inner thigh, though, which was enough to distract him and send him spilling toward the ground.

With the strain he'd endured during the day, it was all just too much.

Mark was all smiles, wrapping his fists in stone as he ran to meet his mentor's falling figure. He was not ready when Aaron suddenly sped up and crashed into the floor, generating a wave of wind that nearly took him off his feet. He blinked to shield his eyes, and when he came to, he was flailing mid-throw before crashing into the floor.

"Jesus," he wheezed, gulping for air. "You don't pull punches, do you."

"Of course I do." Aaron smiled, glad to see his student humbled. "You should fight my Father. He makes what I did feel like a love tap."

----

A/N: Hey guys, if you still follow the series and enjoy it, I could really use a review and the powerstones. It helps the story get more traction, which helps me write faster and better.

It would mean the world to me if you shared how much you've been enjoying the series.