Chapter Text
Amon sat at his desk beside the radio, the static crackling as the Avatar’s voice rang out, bold, defiant, foolish. He closed his eyes behind the ivory mask, letting her words echo in his mind. She hadn’t been in Republic City for a week, and already she was posturing like a savior. He shook his head slowly. She was unrefined. Unbalanced. Still missing elements. He could kill her now — accomplish what his father never could. But death was simple. Death was wasteful.
No. He would break her. He would make her wish she’d never been born. Not just as the Avatar, but as Korra.
Later That Night
Korra paced the perimeter of the clock tower, her boots echoing against the stone. She’d waited for hours, and still no sign of the masked man. She smirked to herself. “Coward,” she muttered. “Tenzin made him sound like some kind of threat. Please.” She made one last round, scanning the shadows. Nothing. Satisfied, she turned to head back, but something felt off. The air shifted.
Before she could react, ropes shot from the darkness, wrapping around her limbs and yanking her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, encased in sudden blackness. Her instincts flared, she ignited her palms, casting flickering light around the room. Masked figures surrounded her. Twenty, maybe more. She moved fast, fireballs, sweeps, kicks. Five down. Then four more. But they kept coming, ropes tightening around her arms, legs, throat. She struggled, snarling. “Cowards! Get off me! Come face me, Amon!”
And then he appeared, as if summoned by her rage. He stepped into the moonlight, his uniform sharp, his mask distinct from the others. He moved with quiet authority, the chaos around him irrelevant. Amon approached slowly, savoring the moment. He could feel her fear, the way her breath hitched, the way her muscles tensed. It was intoxicating.
He knelt beside her, gripping her chin and forcing her to look up. “Hello, young Avatar,” he said, voice smooth and cold. “Would you like to know why I won’t be taking your bending tonight?” She trembled beneath his touch, and he felt a flicker of something dark stir inside him. He pushed it down. “I won’t take your bending,” he continued, “because you’d become a martyr. A symbol. And symbols are dangerous.”
He leaned closer, his thumb brushing her bottom lip before he caught himself. “Instead,” he whispered, “you’ll serve a different purpose. Collateral. A lesson.” Then, without ceremony, he struck her, swift and precise. Her body went limp. He stood, addressing his men. “Take her to Base 027. Private cells. Chi blocked the moment she wakes. Do not disappoint me.” As they carried her away, Amon followed, already plotting. She was his now. And he would make her understand.
Korra woke on cold cement. Her head throbbed. Her body ached. She sat up slowly, eyes scanning the cell — tall metal door, a cot, a bucket. No windows. No light. She tried to summon fire. Nothing. Her heart sank. “Shit,” she muttered. “Shit.” She remembered the ambush. The ropes. Amon. “That bastard,” she growled, storming to the door and kicking it hard. “Hey! Let me out! I’m the Avatar! You can’t keep me in here!”
The door opened. He stepped inside, calm as ever. The carved smirk on his mask made her blood boil. “You can’t just kidnap me!” she shouted. “I’m the Avatar! Protector of the world! This...this is wrong!” Amon walked forward, slow and deliberate, until she was backed against the wall.
“Wrong?” he repeated, voice low. “You think being the Avatar makes you untouchable? You think you’re some divine gift?” He leaned in, his breath warm behind the mask. She shivered. “You think you’re better than the world? Better than me?” His hand shot to her throat, gripping just tight enough to make her gasp. “You are nothing,” he hissed. “No better than the dirt beneath my boots. The world doesn’t need you. And in case you haven’t noticed, no one’s come looking.”
It was a lie. Only five hours had passed, and Tenzin had already mobilized the police. But she didn’t know that. Korra clawed at his hand. “That’s not true! Someone’s looking for me!” But the seed of doubt had been planted. Amon released her, letting her collapse to her knees. He grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up. “You’re wrong, little Avatar. There’s no one coming. There’s only me.”
He paused, voice dropping to a whisper. “I will be your awakening. Your teacher. Your master.” Then he struck her again, and she crumpled to the floor, cold, alone, and afraid.