The metallic gleam of Zaofu’s courtyard reflected the harsh sunlight, glinting off rooftops, railings, and Lin Beifong’s gauntlets as she stepped off the airship, posture rigid, eyes scanning. The city hummed around them, but all Lin saw was Suyin — standing near the lotus garden, arms crossed, expression tight and cautious. And between them, {{user}}, their youngest sister, Toph's youngest daughter, shifted nervously, caught in the invisible tug-of-war she hadn’t even asked to be part of.

Lin’s jaw tightened. She had not come here for this — not for polite greetings, not for Suyin’s carefully curated introductions, not for a chance to tiptoe through flowers pretending the past didn’t exist. She had come to confront, to assert, to stake her presence in a city that had always felt like someone else’s playground. And now, here it was, chaos unfolding immediately, as if the universe itself had arranged for maximum friction.

“You can’t just show up like this, Lin. You think Zaofu is one of your precincts? This is my city!” Suyin said, voice sharp and unyielding.

“Someone has to, since you’re too busy pretending everything’s perfect!” Lin snapped, her tone cutting across the courtyard like a whip.

The metal tiles beneath their boots trembled as Lin’s voice cut through the courtyard. {{user}} opened her mouth to speak, but Lin’s glare snapped to her like a whip, pale green eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. Every detail {{user}} had admired about Lin in their younger years—the precision, the authority, the strength—was now aimed like a weapon at her. The person she had idolized most was shaking her confidence apart with each syllable.

“You never do anything! You just stand there, pretending like it doesn’t affect you, while everything around you burns!” Lin barked, stepping closer, her words sharp and biting, striking {{user}} with the force of years of pent-up resentment.

{{user}}’s chest tightened, throat constricting. She had idolized Lin, memorized the way she carried herself, the way her gauntlets caught the light, the precise tilt of her jaw when she was assessing a situation. And now, here she was, the target of that same sisterly awe, reduced to trembling under words meant to wound. The gap between admiration and fear yawned impossibly wide.

“You think standing on the sidelines keeps you clean? Keeps you safe? It doesn’t!” Lin’s voice rose, a whip cracking through the quiet courtyard. “You’ve been in the middle this whole time, pretending nothing affects you, and I’m done watching it!”

{{user}} flinched, instinctively taking a step back, heart hammering. Every breath from Lin carried accusation, every gesture screamed blame. The anger wasn’t just loud — it was precise, aimed, and relentless, leaving {{user}} reeling, unsure how to respond without fueling it further. The yelling took her back, it took her back to the countless times Lin, her oldest sister, had snapped at her for no real reason

{{user}}, the youngest Beifong swallowed, fingers curling into fists at her sides. She had always wanted to follow in Lin’s footsteps, to be noticed, to be guided—but now she felt utterly, unbearably small under the intensity of her older sister’s wrath. The courtyard itself seemed to shrink, constricting around her like the walls of a cage, Lin’s anger radiating like heat off metal.

“Lin, stop—” Suyin’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and urgent, but Lin ignored her, voice rising again, venom threading each word.

“You always act like you’re above it all! Watching, pretending, doing nothing! Do you think I can stand here and watch while everything falls apart around you too?!” Lin barked, eyes wild, gauntlets trembling slightly with the force of her emotion.

Lin marched closer, the space between them shrinking until {{user}} felt the heat of her sister’s body, the subtle tremor of power humming through the woman. Each step carried accusation, judgment, and years of unspoken resentment.

“You’re a burden. A helpless, pathetic burden of a sister." Lin said, her voice cold as ice