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As Azula waited in the dusty, tilted room, she heard the cacophony of screams and calls for help outside the building cut off, like birdsong stopping when a catowl flew near. If the loud lowing and the rush of air hadn’t warned her what was coming, the excited shouts would have.
“It’s the Avatar!”
“These terrorists are about to get it!”
The former princess simply smiled. This was exactly what she had been expecting - and exactly what she wanted.
I’ve been waiting for this rematch for twelve years.
Tapping her feet impatiently, Azula listened out for the airbender’s inevitable approach. The room she was in was fairly high up - a fourth story, one of the larger tower-like structures that had been popping up in the new “Republic City” in the last few years - and thanks to the efforts of her band of fellow schemers, the entire building was heavily damaged, carefully targeted explosive charges having destabilized the structure without causing it to completely collapse. This, of course, had the result of creating a perfect arena in which to fight the Avatar - there was little access to water or earth this high off the ground, and the building was too unstable to bend in safely.
Amid the cries, the sounds of moving rubble stopped - it seemed that the Avatar had finally finished wasting his time trying to help pull people out of the wreckage, and was now actually coming to look for her. Azula doubted that he would know who was behind the attack - she had laid her trail carefully, to ensure that both he and the cursed Water Tribe girl would be there, but she had been cautious to conceal any signs of her involvement. With any luck, he would simply think the attack was caused by one of the gangs that ran rampant in the former colonies.
This will be very vindicating.
A familiar tattooed figure leapt up from the mostly-ruined stairwell and looked at her, the surprise on his face rapidly morphing into resignation. Azula simply stared back at him, leaning relaxedly against a mostly intact pillar, careful to ensure that the weapon in her right hand was hidden by the support.
“Azula, why? Why are you still doing this?”
Does he really not know?
“It’s simple, really,” the former princess replied, narrowing her eyes. “I want my bending back.”
The stupid Avatar had the nerve to look startled at that statement. He was twenty-four, now - was he so naive, still, as to not realize what he had done to her?
How much of an idealistic fool is this man?
“This is why I took it from you, Azula!” And now, somehow, he sounded like he was the one being wronged. “I did this because I was hoping that you would learn to live a different way! And you haven’t changed!”
What?
If Azula hadn’t had an incredible amount of poise and self-control, she would have been visibly seething with rage - as it was, though, she simply continued staring at him intently. She had been waiting for this moment for years, planning it out, and she would not allow it to be ruined.
“So you really thought that ripping part of my soul from me would help? I thought you at least had one marginally intelligent friend - what was his name? Sokka?”
Aang’s eyes widened in shock, and Azula smiled slightly, knowing her statement had hit home. It was common knowledge that Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe had been missing for almost five years, along with his girlfriend Suki, and the Avatar and his fiancee had both been devastated.
“You know about what happened to them.”
“I might have heard things,” she responded smoothly. “I could tell you, if you’re willing to give me my firebending back.”
The Avatar fixed her with a stare of his own - the princess almost laughed at how impotent it was. “Never. You haven’t changed, Azula.”
“Would you give my bending back if I had?”
The ensuing silence said everything Azula needed to know. Not that she had been expecting anything different, of course - there had never been any hope that the airbender would actually restore her bending ability.
She would never be the same, she had realized years ago, the blood of the water tribesman and the Kyoshi Warrior staining the rocky floor around her. The former princess had come to terms with that fact.
You have nothing over me.
Finally, the Avatar spoke again, still staring at her without effect. “Tell me what happened to them, now.”
Even to this day, her chest was still empty and cold. An aching pain that would never leave her, no matter what she did.
This has been fun… but I think I ought to finish this.
“You know,” Azula said almost conversationally, her hand tightening around the grip of her still-hidden weapon, “how long has it been since you’ve seen that girlfriend of yours?”
It took about a second for the Avatar to realize what she was saying, and that was long enough. There was a wordless roar of energy, and a blinding white glow, and Azula almost yawned as she drew her weapon and aimed for his nose in one smooth, practiced motion.
I’ve been here before, you know.
It had been eight years ago when she and her comrades had come up with a revolutionary idea for a weapon that would change the face of war. The principle was devastatingly simple - a metal tube with a triggering mechanism at one end, loaded with a conical metal projectile backed by a small amount of explosives. A trigger embedded in the handle would detonate the explosives, propelling the metal bolt out of the barrel with terrifying speed and accuracy that no existing weapon - or bender - could match. And, as Azula pulled the lever with her right pointer finger, that was exactly what happened.
There was a loud crack, and the building glow and whirl of air was interrupted in an instant as the Avatar dropped to the floor with a surprisingly mundane thud.
That was almost too anticlimactic, honestly.
The former princess quickly turned, stepping towards what had, at one point, been the opposite stairway. With her work done, she needed to leave before local law enforcement arrived and discovered the Avatar - now as brainless as he had always seemed to be - was dead.
You can’t catch lightning in a bottle twice, you know.
As she swiftly dropped down the damaged stairwell, Azula smiled bitterly. Brilliant and powerful as it was - as she was - the metal of her weapon was still cold in her hand.