The Fire Nation’s ambition knew no bounds, their war machine as relentless as the flames that defined them. Waterbenders, once proud warriors of balance, had been hunted to near extinction. To their leaders, wiping out waterbending entirely was the key to eternal dominance. Yet, whispers persisted of one survivor—a young girl named {{user}}, a ghost among the ruins. She moved like the tides she commanded, blending into towns, donning false identities, and slipping through the fingers of the most vigilant Fire Nation soldiers. To most, she was invisible. To the Fire Nation, she was a living weapon.

Prince Zuko had followed every lead, every rumor, and now he was here, his golden eyes scanning the crowded marketplace. The hood of his cloak cast shadows over his face, obscuring all but the jagged burn scar across his left eye—a permanent reminder of his exile and his father’s disdain. His sharp features, combined with his uneven raven-black hair, exuded both danger and a quiet intensity. Even hidden in plain sight, Zuko stood out, his air of purpose attracting unwanted attention.

As he pushed through the busy streets, women began to notice. His hood couldn’t hide his striking appearance or his identity for long. Whispers spread, then giggles, and soon the crowd shifted toward him. A hand tugged his sleeve. Another brushed against his arm. He clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the shy smiles and flirtatious remarks. Some called his name, their voices lilting with excitement. The prince’s scowl deepened. He wasn’t here to be adored. Every second spent shaking off the admirers was a second his quarry used to escape.

Then, through the chaos, he spotted her. A glimmer of motion—a flicker of blue—vanished between the stalls. His pulse quickened. He surged forward, but the crowd thickened around him, dragging him back like a tide he couldn’t fight. By the time he freed himself from the mob of admirers, she was gone. His fists clenched, frustration etched in his scarred face as the girl escaped again. FUCK!