Korra vs Kuvira: The End of an Age (Part 1)

On the plains outside the metal city of Zaofu, an army like the world had never seen stood in their ranks, green banners waving. It was an army of not only soldiers, but armored machinations, from grounded tanks to airborne vehicles that thrummed overhead. The sun gleamed off the sheer amount of metal in that army made the citizens of Zaofu wince to look at it, though that was not the only reason they cringed. The city wasn’t defenseless, but against the much larger, modernized, mechanically efficient army of the Great Uniter, Zaofu’s domed shields would be cracked like eggshells and their defenders swept over in moments.

In contrast, it was a much smaller delegation that marched across flat field towards the army. In fact, it was only one person who stood between the sea of soldiers, stretching back in their squared ranks almost to the horizon, and the city of metal domes. Yet that one person, a young woman, held the army back.

She had boyishly broad shoulders, her arms left bare by her sleeveless blue top, chiseled lean and grooved with sleek sinew. She had long, dark hair, held in a top knot and two tails that fell past her cheeks, but those were warrior decorations among the watertribe and she was clearly a warrior. Young men from the south pole even tended to be smooth faced and delicate, almost sylvan, which Korra was. However, no one would mistake her for a boy.

As muscular as she was, her athleticism only accented a feminine figure. Her top wasn’t designed to be snug, but the swell of her breasts stretched it taut, the rest smoothed down over her stomach. Her hips flared out beneath a skirt of hides, refusing to be obscured, as wide as her shoulders from a svelte waist. She wore no feminine adornment, having the honest, natural sort of beauty that needed none, showing itself through her warrior’s garb.

Korra, the Avatar, advanced on the Uniter’s army with her chin lowered, blue eyes cold, hands held at her sides, loose and ready. She wasn’t being brave in the face of so many gathered men, on the contrary she marched towards them with restrained wrath, as if she had a much larger force standing behind her, ready to punish them. It was the soldiers that shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other, feeling outnumbered.

Only one person faced the oncoming Avatar without worry.

Kuvira, the Great Uniter, stood at the forefront of her army like a stern drill instructor. Technically she had the same power as a queen, but instead of finery she wore a smart military uniform, not so different from the one her officer’s wore. Handsome more than beautiful, her dark hair pulled back into a strict bun, she wore a lowered brow, humorless and austere.

Korra’s fur boots crunched on dirt, the loudest sound on the arid plains, despite the massive numbers of soldiers. A sudden wind flapped some of the banners and skirts of the soldiers’ uniforms, but no one made a sound. Everyone was waiting, standing at the edge of a precipice of history. The two

The Avatar came to a stop a few dozen feet away and then only the sound of the wind remained. A wary glare tightened her lips and drew her eyebrows together as she met Kuvira’s gaze.

Kuvira stared right back, unmoved. Her chin held high, back straight, she regarded the Avatar with no anger, nor fear. She made no attempt to explain herself, nor to taunt like many villains in Korra’s past. The only expression on her marbled features was one of bored annoyance or slight disapproval, like she was looking at a log that had fallen in the path of her cart.

Naturally brash and impatient, it was Korra who broke the silence first.

“That’s far enough,” she called in her deepest, most commanding tone, “Order your army to turn around. Zaofu is a free city. You have no reason to be here.”

Kuvira replied almost immediately, “Once the leaders of Zaofu bow to me, agree to lower their shields and surrender their city, I will leave. And not before.”

Korra stared back, her eyes narrowing. She had always been impulsive and loved a good fight, which made her better at the warrior rather than the negotiator aspect of being the Avatar. Her adventures since leaving the south pole had brought maturity and taught her the importance of exploring avenues before violence, but she still itched to put this woman in her place.

She restrained the urge but held it at the ready, knowing she might need it. The Great Uniter probably hadn’t marched all this way to just turn around without a fight.

“You sure that’s how you want to play this?” Korra called back, “We can work this out another way. The leaders of Zaofu are willing to negotiate.”

“I’ve already offered my terms, and they’re quite fair,” Kuvira replied, her expression unchanged, “The city can join the United Earth Empire willingly or it can be brought to heel by force. There’s nothing else to be said.”

The young tribe woman had to bite back an angry retort. She wanted very badly to wipe that cold, superior look off the general’s stubborn face, but instead of snapping back or tossing out a taunt she released a gentle breath through her lips. She was the Avatar, she had to be diplomatic, show she was the bigger woman to everyone watching.

“I can’t allow that,” she chose her words carefully, “Stand down your army and we can talk. There’s no need to risk the lives of your men in combat.”

At this, Kuvira finally showed a hint of emotion. She rolled her eyes skyward, released an impatient sigh, then turned a lidded, bored gaze back to Korra.

“Avatar Korra,” she drawled, “I’m only speaking to you now as a courtesy. You have no jurisdiction here. You are interfering in internal Earth Kingdom matters that aren’t any concern of yours. Again.”

Korra opened her mouth to speak, but Kuvira continued, cutting her off.

“The Earth Kingdom doesn’t need you, Avatar,” the general’s eyes narrowed, “You’re irrelevant to us and we will no longer tolerate your intrusions into our affairs. You can leave or stand aside and observe, but any act against this army or myself and you will be labelled an enemy of the Earth Empire and subject to punishment. We are unified and strong, Avatar. The days of other nations meddling in our business is over.”

Korra had had enough. Kuvira talked like she spoke for the Earth Kingdom, but in reality she was a tyrant like any other, using her soldiers as pawns to advance her own power and prestige. She wouldn’t let the general play that card, not anymore.

Foregoing any sense of formality, the Avatar cocked an insolent hip, an amused smile turning her lips up at the corners. She stared at Kuvira then her eyes flashed white, glowing like the harvest moon.

Upon seeing this, the entire front two rows of the Uniter Army flinched and shrank back. They knew that the glow heralded the Avatar state, when Korra drew on her full power. The Avatar could, and had many times before, wiped out entire armies and navies in that state; everyone knew the stories.

Only Kuvira remained unmoved, standing still as a statue.

Korra called on the power only for a second, then let it go, her eyes turning back to their natural sea blue. She’d made her point.

“Do you really think that’s what’s going to happen here?” she smirked, “That I’m just going to walk away and let you conquer another city?”

The general stared back, saying nothing.

“You’re just another warlord, Kuvira.” Korra continued, “You’re not the Earth Kingdom. And if you come at me, it’s your soldiers that are going to pay the price. But you don’t care about that, do you? The only thing that matters to you is ruling.” She narrowed her eyes to match Kuvira’s stare, “Lady, not only is it my job to stop you, people like you are the reason the Avatar even exists.”

For several moments, Kuvira only nodded slowly, taking in the Avatar’s words. As much as Korra wanted to anger her, the Great Uniter remained unmoved, pristine, her expression stony and not a single hair out of place on her head. Her military posture had never wavered, still as a statue.

When she eventually responded, her voice was bland and formal, almost perfunctory.

“I take it that means you intend to interfere?”

Korra crossed her arms under her breasts, shelving them on her toned forearms.

“Yup!” she replied.

A small smile pulled at one side of Kuvira’s lips. It was quick and subtle, so much so that Korra almost missed it, an evil grin that cracked through the general’s stony façade. It vanished just as quickly as it appeared and her face became smooth and resolute once more.

“Very well.” Kuvira said.

Turning on her heel with slow dignity, the general faced her army with her head held high. She looked them over, assessing their dispositions, and her attention captivated them. Kuvira had the ability to command obedience and her men stood up straighter as her eyes moved over them, silent and waiting for her to speak.

“Soldiers of the Unified Earth Kingdom!” Kuvira called out, “I would never order you to do anything I’m not willing to do myself! Therefore, you will not fight the Avatar! I will face her in single combat! Without interference!”

Involuntary gasps came from the gathered men, eyes widening with awe beneath their masks. None of them spoke out of respect for their general, but Korra could imagine the thoughts going through their heads. Had they heard right? The general would fight the Avatar herself? Alone?

Even Korra stiffened, a bit surprised.

She was still blinking, taken aback when Kuvira turned around to face her once more, hands still clasped behind her back.

“Avatar, if you win you can rule Zaofu as you wish!” the general called loudly, for the benefit of her men, “But when I beat you, you will face crimes of espionage, assault, foreign aggression, and attempted sedition! Do you still wish to proceed in your illegal activities?”

Korra scowled, annoyed at how masterfully Kuvira had turned this around on her. Instead of proving the Great Uniter was nothing but a tyrant, she’d made her an even greater hero to her men. She’d done her best, but she was not the politician the general was and had fallen right into a trap laid out for her. Kuvira had even made it sound like she wanted to rule the city herself, when all she really wanted was for it to be free.

Her consolation was now she got to kick the Great Uniter’s butt.

“Fine!” Korra smacked her fist into her palm, “You wanna fight the Avatar?! Then let’s go! Right here, right now!”

“Agreed.”

With that, the negotiations officially ended. It was a small relief to Korra, who was more than ready to battle instead of playing word games. She shook out her shoulders, popped her neck with two sharp jerks of her head, then eased into her fighting stance, hands coming to her face.

Kuvira didn’t need to loosen up. She reached to her chest and plucked off a small medal that was pinned to her uniform. It was slender and silver, a lightning bolt-like symbol of her rank, the only major decoration that set her apart from any other officer. She held it high, letting her army see it, then shot it into the dirt with a flick of metal bending, where it lodged upright, protruding just out of the ground.

The message was clear. For the moment, she was not a general. She was merely a soldier like the rest of her army, facing their greatest enemy by herself.

Korra clenched her fists. She had to admit that Kuvira was good at this. The Great Uniter always seemed to have some kind of plan, a way to turn any situation to her advantage. Her army would think she’s all but a goddess now, righteous and fair as well as powerful and brave. Even while in the process of conquering a peaceful city, she’d made the Avatar look like the bully, while she was the lone person willing to stand up to her. Even when Korra won, Kuvira’s army would still think their general was the righteous one; they could even attack her en masse to protect their leader with their lives.

Kuvira advanced towards her, upright and sure, and Korra chewed on her bottom lip.

She couldn’t just defeat Kuvira, she would have to defeat her in the right way, a fair battle. If she went into the Avatar state and simply overwhelmed the conqueror with sheer power, she would look like a brute throwing her weight around. But if she beat Kuvira using only earth bending, a fraction of the skill she possessed, the would-be Unifier would look like a fool who tried to challenge the balance itself.

As if seeing the direction of her thoughts, Kuvira called out, “Use whatever you want. All the elements, the Avatar state. I don’t want anyone to whine that you didn’t give it your all, after you’re defeated.”

The proud conqueror stopped a half dozen paces away from the Avatar, hands still behind her back, that small grin on her face once more. She looked at Korra the same way she would an opposing army on the field, when her forces were where she wanted them, and the enemy was unaware of the trap. Her expression was smooth except for the grin, but her eyes were gleaming.

Korra grinned right back.

“Yeah, right,” she replied, “Because conquerors have such a stellar track record against the Avatar.”

Kuvira narrowed her eyes, “They weren’t me.”

To Korra, that seemed as good a cue as any to put an end to this would-be conquest.

Snapping forward, she thrust out her fist and the earth itself moved in tandem, a pillar of hardened rock punching towards the seemingly unprepared general.

Still standing upright, hands behind her back, for an instant it looked as if Kuvira didn’t even notice the attack. However, just before she would have been knocked senseless, the canny villainess stepped aside, avoiding the blow like it was a hand grasping at smoke. Then, in the same movement as her dodge, Kuvira counterattacked.

Before Korra could even recoil her attempted strike, a bowling ball-sized hunk of rock slammed into her sternum, knocking her off her feet.

“HULF!”

The ball of orange earth burst into pieces on impact, showering the Avatar with pebbles and dust as she landed flat on her back, wide-eyed with shock.

It all happened so fast, the soldiers and Korra herself needed a second to realize what had happened. Only Kuvira herself, wearing a crooked grin, fist still outstretched from her perfectly timed strike, wasn’t stunned to stillness by the outcome of the sudden exchange.

“Hmph.” she grunted, slowly shaking her head, predictably disappointed at her opponent.

That small, derisive sound burst the bubble of silence.

The soldiers erupted into cheers, pumping their fists into the air, while Korra shook her head and scrambled back to her feet.

Rolling over her shoulder, the Avatar landed in a crouch, glaring flushed and embarrassed as the whoops and calls of Kuvira’s soldiers rang in her ears.

What was that?! She’d known Kuvira was good and what she’d done was sloppy and predictable. So intent on wiping the smug look off the villainess’s face, she’d gone for a knockout blow right off the bat and been countered like a rank amateur.

Scolding herself, she rose to her feet, glaring more warily as the soldiers continued to cheer and call out encouragement to their commander.

Kuvira herself was grinning knowingly now, her cold demeanor replaced by a playful twinkle of the eye, relaxed in her fighting stance.

“Don’t worry, Avatar,” the villainess danced to the side, shuffling her feet, “I’ll go easy on you for a while. If it’s over too fast, people will think you weren’t trying.”

Korra’s mocoa cheeks darkened at that and she clenched her fists, the sleek muscles flexing in her shoulders and arms. She knew Kuvira was trying to make her angry and reined in her temper, but she didn’t have the best poker face.

Glaring, more warily than before, Korra advanced a few steps, then attacked again. She snapped out several quick blows, rapid firing baseball-sized globes of earth at her opponent, who turned aside the blows with ease. One of the balls even came back at Korra, who ducked aside and fired off another attack of her own.

While they were both fighting using the same element, attacks could be turned aside or even redirected, then reredirected, counter attacks being countered themselves in one seemingly endless dance. Avatar and general directed fissures at each other, only for them to be redirected and reshaped, coming back at their wielder or turning into different attacks. It seemed almost choreographed to the layman, the two master earth benders probing and jockeying for angles and superior position, trying to force their opponent to make a mistake.

They flowed and struck like this for almost fifteen seconds before Korra saw an opening. She lunged in, stomping her foot, snarling in aggression as she threw her power into a devastating blow.

Instead, her lead leg was jerked out from under her, yanked forward, leaving her windmilling her arms to keep from falling on her back or doing the splits. Gasping, she looked down to see the fissure that had caught her foot, yanking her off balance at the very moment she was about to strike, then looked up at her opponent, mouth gaping astonishment.

Kuvira grinned, then with a sweep of her foot threw Korra’s legs out from under her so violently, that the girl did a complete flip in the air.

The startled Avatar cried out, flailing helplessly as her body completed one full rotation, then was partway through another when her shoulder and ribs slammed into the dirt.

More celebratory cheers rang out from the soldiers, the men crying out and even bumping fists, their solemn attention becoming jubilant, almost like a party.

Wincing, with new aches and growing bruises from her fall, Korra shook her head and looked to her opponent, ready to defend herself from the ground if the villainess tried to finish her off.

But Kuvira simply stepped back, rolling out one of her wrists. Her rigid posture was gone, her military discipline seemingly vanished as well, her eyes bright, her grin crooked but lively. She danced to the side once more, then threw a few practice blows in the air, as if she was just now warming up.

“Come on, Avatar,” her voice bounced with laughter, “Get up. We’re just getting started.”

Korra rose back to her feet, settling into her own fighting stance once more and watching the conquering villainess.

For the first time Korra had seen, Kuvira was playful, even enjoying herself. She wasn’t worried about the Avatar’s skills at all. Even her last attack could have been followed up with something much more powerful, but instead she’d simply tossed Korra into the dirt, letting her have a humiliating fall and then pick herself up again so they could continue.

A sudden thought drew more heat to Korra’s cheeks. Was she being toyed with?

“I can give you earth bending lessons all day,” Kuvira gently teased, “I’d advise you to start getting serious.”

Bristling, Korra narrowed her eyes at the mocking Earth Empress.

“You want serious?!” she snapped, flames suddenly leaping from her fists, “You got it, lady!”

* * *

Korra lunged only to have a slender band of metal catch her wrist and yank her to the side. She staggered with a snarl of frustration, only for sharp one-two-three blows of earth to hammer into her ribs. Crumpling in agony, she brought her arm down to protect her body from more attacks, tried to turn back to face her opponent, but was completely unprepared for the other band of metal that snapped around her ankle.

Now having control of the Avatar’s left leg and right arm, Kuvira swiped her hands in opposite directions, crossing over each other in a circular scissoring motion.

The metal bands on Korra’s limbs immediately responded. Her leg was jerked from under her and up, while her arm swung her around and down, spinning her like a wheel. Despite only being lifted perhaps a foot from the ground, the force of the throw spun the hapless water tribe girl in three complete rotations. She could only cry out in despair and anguish before she slammed into the ground. Again.

The nearest soldiers let out ooh’s of sympathetic pain or laughed and applauded. Over the past ten minutes, the duel had remained a one-sided beating, and no one bothered to cheer or whoop any more. The mood of the soldiers had gone from excited, to merry, like they were watching a particularly entertaining comedy.

Flat on her stomach, Korra wheezed into the ground, her shoulders and back heaving. She indulged in lying still and catching her breath for a couple of seconds, before pushing herself up with a faint groan. Part of her didn’t want to get up at all, not after rising so many times before, only to get knocked down again.

“You look tired.” Kuvira called to her, “Maybe you should stay down.”

Stung by the taunt, Korra gritted her teeth and forced herself up. One of her legs twinged, having landed on it as she fell, but she managed to keep from stumbling, bringing her fists up to continue the fight. Yet despite her furious glare, the dogged determination in her eyes, she wasn’t the same invincible Avatar that had begun the duel.

Managing the same fighting stance as before, her shoulders were regardless slumped, arms hanging with weariness. Her mocoa complexion was flushed, not only from exertion but from bruises that mottled her cheek, jaw, under her eye. Every inch of skin was shining with sweat which likewise captured the field’s dirt, her once sky-blue top now stained orange where the perspiration had soaked through. She was ragged and scraped, her mouth gaping as she sucked in deep gasps of air, her glare like that of a cornered she wolf, fighting to the death.

Across from her, Kuvira looked even brighter, the exercise adding color to her cheeks, her breathing having picked up just enough to be excited. Other than that, her uniform was immaculate, the leaf green completely clean, all the silver shining like it had just been polished. Her crooked grin broader and more delighted than ever, she stared at the Avatar with a lidded, predatory gaze.

“That’s better.” The villainess laughed gently, “Honestly, I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Korra snarled, “I… h-haven’t even… started with you yet!”

Kuvira didn’t even flinch at the Avatar’s savage tone. Her grin tightened, warping downwards, her eyes dancing with mirth. She wasn’t taken aback in the slightest; she was trying not to laugh.

That more than any called taunt, made Korra furious. She roared, fire jetting from her open mouth before she rushed forward to attack.

Utilizing all four elements had only marginally improved Korra’s performance in the battle. It forced her opponent to take more care, to work harder to keep from being overwhelmed, but inevitably it was Korra who would wind up being pulled off balance, left overextended, or at an awkward angle, then punished.

This exchange would be no different.

Korra pistoned her fists, sending a flurry of fireballs, which her opponent weaved to avoid, then spun into a stabbing kick that billowed a hammer of wind to blast the Great Uniter off her feet.

Kuvira threw up her hands and a shield of rock rose in front of her, breaking the blast of air bending with ease.

“I’ve seen these moves before, Avatar!” the villainess called out, “Don’t you have anything new?”

The shield split in half, parting so Kuvira could flick several slivers of metal at the Avatar.

Korra blew a few of them off target with a swipe of air bending, ducked under the rest, then swept her leg around. A fissure of earth followed the same motion, erupting in a path aimed directly for the villainess’s legs.

Kuvira simple hopped back and lifted her leg, the move creating a tombstone-sized pillar that stopped the fissure in its tracks.

“Wild. Desperate.” The Earth Empress sneered, “Predictable.”

Refusing to back down or be intimidated, Korra lunged forward to throw a haymaker of fire. It was a blow that have too wide a spread to simply weave around and enough power to blast a rock shield to bits. It required a good deal of effort and power, particularly from the already tired Avatar, but she had more than enough strength left for the attack to be effective.

Unfortunately, Kuvira saw it coming. To counter she simply shifted her foot and a small stone, not much bigger than a door stop, jutted up from the dirt in the Avatar’s path.

Korra threw herself forward, shoulders and hips turned to deliver maximum torque and violence into the fire bending blast.

Then her foot hit the small stone and she stripped.

As she cried out in surprise, her attack misfired, what flame she managed to generate being flung away and not even reaching its intended target.

The next sequence was like clockwork, Kuvira calmly performing one move that led into another.

Korra stumbled forward, but before she could catch her balance, she ran into a piston of rock that drove the air from her lungs. With a sound somewhere between a croak and a wheeze, she folded, crumpling forward at the exact same time as a similar, more vertically angled rock piston shot up to meet her chin.

“UNH!”

The Avatar’s head snapped back, and her legs turned to jelly, one buckling entirely and dropping her to one knee. She bounced up instinctively, clumsy and disoriented, just in time for a metal band to loop around her ankles, then snap them together like a snare. Already unbalanced, she fell on her back with a grunt, then two more metal bands pinned her wrists to the ground.

Disoriented, the rapid series of events happening too quickly for her dazed mind to keep up, Korra merely blinked dumbly and looked around, not fully understanding where she was, how she had gotten there, or that she was trapped. She tried to lift her head, but it fell back down, her eyes crossing for a moment.

Kuvira sighed and stood back upright, returning to her military posture. Looking herself over, she brushed a bit of dust off the breast of her uniform, then shrugged her shoulders, straightening the seams.

“That’s enough.” She said.

Clasping her hands behind her back, she raised her chin once more and advanced towards the fallen Avatar, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“I think we all get the point,” she strolled forward, “You’re not a match for me. You have no power over me. You’re irrelevant.”

As Kuvira’s boots crunched on the dirt, Korra shook her head, some clarity returning to her eyes. Looking back and forward, seeing her arms were spread and pinned to the ground with metal bending restraints, she immediately began to jerk and fight, biceps and shoulders flexing.

“The Earth Empire will not only be free of outside meddling, it will be a world power,” the general continued, “As it deserves to be. Unhampered, allowed to thrive and spread.”

Korra grunted and strained, breasts arching up from the ground as she struggled to rip staple-like bonds out of the ground. She quickly gave it up and flopped back down, panting from exertion. This wasn’t working. None of it was, not her attempt to free herself, not the fight, or saving Zaofu. On the contrary, she had only succeeded in getting her butt handed to her while the citizens of Zaofu and the Uniter army looked on.

Still panting, her eyes darted around, mind racing, trying to think of some way she could turn the tables.

“I will make a new world,” Kuvira smiled down at the desperate young woman, “You will be a foot note, Avatar. A novelty of the past, remembered in fairy tales.”

The villainess lifted a hand and one of her silver bands scraped free of the sleeve of her uniform. It floated up then hovered in front of her face, where the general eyed it thoughtfully. She appeared to muse, looking the sliver of metal over, but then gradually her eyes narrowed, becoming sharp and dangerous.

A turn of Kuvira’s wrist made the small leaf of metal narrow on one side, coming to a point. The metal whined shrilly as it reshaped, its edges pinching down until they were razors. In a few seconds, it was a star-shaped spear head, pointed downward at the Avatar’s heart.

Korra sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes going wide.

Kuvira sighed again.

“Thanks for the practice, Korra,” she said, “But I can’t waste any more time on you. I want to have Zaofu under control before nightfall.”

Korra went rigid, fixing a furious glare on the general.

She wouldn’t lose to this cold, smug, controlling tyrant. She wouldn’t let Kuvira take Zaofu and destroy the balance of the world. It was true the Great Uniter was a greater master with earth and metal bending than she was with all four elements at her command, but that alone wasn’t what made her the protector of the world.

“The next Avatar will be an earth bender,” Kuvira said, “I suspect they’ll be more open minded than you were.”

Korra closed her eyes and focused her chi, calling on the spirits of all past Avatars. She’d wanted to win this battle without using her greatest weapon, but fate had decided differently.

Kuvira lazily lifted a hand, preparing to send her weapon stabbing down.

Just as the sharpened spike moved, Korra’s eyes snapped open. They were glowing such a bright blue they were almost white.

Within the instant between when the villainess raised her hand and brought it down to drive the blade home, her intended victim uprooted her metal bonds and thrust both palms out. From those palms came such a mighty air bending blow that it blasted away both weapon and wielder like leaves in a gale.

The Uniter army went abruptly silent.

While the small dagger was sent flying off into the sky, irretrievably lost, Kuvira was thrown from the Avatar like an artillery shell. Her cold demeanor pierced, she cried out as she flipped head over heels, waving her arms and kicking her feet in a vain, panicked attempt to control her flight. She collected herself quickly, recovering her wits, but there was little she could do without any earth or metal to latch onto. All her quick composure managed to earn her was a clear perspective on her arc reaching its zenith before she fell back to the earth.

The long arc of Kuvira’s flight allowed her to roll somewhat with the landing and additionally she used her earth bending to make the ground flex at the site of her impact. If not for those things she would have broken her back when she landed on her shoulders, then several other things when she skipped off the hard packed dirt, tumbling over helplessly. She managed to land on all fours, but it was not with her usual elegance.

The Great Uniter couldn’t held but be wide eyed at the gross display of power, climbing back to her feet with a hint of a tremble in her limbs.

Her soldiers gaped at her. Their leader’s dark hair had been ripped out of its snug bun, now wild and wind windswept, falling over her shoulder. Her once pristine uniform was now frayed, one of the shoulders torn open, stained with orange dust. She had been flung over 30 yards away from her opponent and looked shaky, no longer a disciplined statue.

However, the soldiers didn’t have long to consider the abrupt change in their commander. The Avatar was barreling straight towards her, carried on a pedestal of rock that split through the earth like the prow of a ship through a calm sea.

Kuvira shook herself, then shifted into a fighting stance, wearing a determined glare.

Korra was possessed. Her eyes were still glowing bright, her lips pinched tight, but the rest of her expression was contorted into a leonine mask of rage. Shoulders back, chest thrust out, her hands were held at her sides, fingers clenched into claws, her top knot and twin tails flapping wildly. Her unblinking gaze was fixed on her target, relieved of any doubt or the need for defense. A hurricane doesn’t worry about an ant trying to sting it.

Kuvira made several quick, precise strikes, flicking leaves of metal at her opponent, then flung herself to the side, skating on her or pedestal of earth to avoid the charge.

She might as well have done nothing. The Avatar blew the metal projectiles away with a single swipe of air bending, then another gesture uprooted a massive boulder that shattered Kuvira’s pedestal out from under her.

The villainess gasped as she was sent flying again but managed to turn over in mid-air. She landed in a crouch, forming another pedestal beneath her that carried her on almost seamlessly. But it was a small victory; she was still running for her life.

Before she could even think of mounting a counterattack, the boulder that had intercepted her flew into the air and split into several jagged pieces. The pieces shot down at her like massive spears, one after the other, impaling the ground where they struck and anything else beneath them.

Kuvira weaved through them on her island of earth, luck and maneuverability keeping her alive by the narrowest of margins.

Her soldiers began backing away as the fight moved back in their directions, cries of alarm coming from amongst them. They didn’t want to be anywhere near the wrath of the Avatar in the Avatar state.

They needn’t have worried as Korra didn’t intend to let the villainess run for much longer. With a sweep of her hand, a wide fissure cracked open and fire erupted from its depths in a massive wall, separating Kuvira from her men.

The harried general barely managed to turn in time to keep from being immolated, throwing her arms up to shield herself from the flames. The heat in their proximity made Kuvira cry out in pain before she made a sharp U-turn, desperately searching for some manner of escape.

She turned right into the path of an incoming rock, that struck her in the chest and shattered into pebbles and dust, the exact same strike she had used on Korra at the beginning of the duel. Grunting, she was thrown off her feet, and her earth-skiff, then slammed into the ground. There was no rolling with the fall this time, she struck hard and turned over and over across the ground, tumbling and gasping in pain.

The soldiers stood still, frozen with horror.

Kuvira came to a stop on her stomach. She stayed where she lay.

The Great Uniter was down.

After a few painful seconds, Kuvira coughed and began to crawl up to all fours, her movements aching and slow.

Above her, Korra floated in a bubble of whistling air, dark hair flapping so violently it looked like a fire of its own. Shoulders back, head held high, her glowing eyes glared down at the fallen general, her pretty face wearing a stony, judging expression the free-spirited girl would never have worn on her own. But she was no longer that girl, nor was she any one thing. Now she was every Avatar that had come before her, 5000 years of wisdom and power. She was the voice and hand of the world itself, its will to maintain balance and peace.

When she spoke, her voice was inhumanly deep and among a multitude of others, speaking as one with the same purpose.

“Kuvira!” her powerful, eerie voice rang out, “You have spread war and meddled in powers beyond your comprehension! Your actions reverberate through the world, threatening another age of darkness!”

The soldiers watched in silence. Most of them had nurtured worries that their string of triumphs would come to an end in the face of the Avatar, that as brilliant as their leader was, Kuvira would go too far. Now their worst fears were coming to pass.

From her elbows, Kuvira managed to lift her head, glaring up at the judgement of the Avatar. Gone was her placid control, replaced by a snarl of bitter fury, resentment, and defiance. Her power and skill were miniscule in comparison, but she refused to quake, willing to spit in the face of her own destruction.

“So, what are you going to do then, Avatar?!” she snapped, “Murder me?! Destroy my army?! Raze my empire?! What are you going to do?!”

The Avatar didn’t respond to the general’s question. This was a passing of judgement, not a discussion. The voice of the world didn’t have to defend itself from the accusations of a single, tiny creature on its face.

Eyes still glowing, a stern, unrelenting goddess, Korra descended until she touched down to the earth and strode towards the prostrate empress. The ground quaked with each step, winds still whistling about her, fire blazing at her fingertips. Thousands of years of wisdom provided many different ways to stop the Earth Empire. It had already decided.

Korra’s hand reached out and the earth itself clamped onto Kuvira’s wrists, then formed pillars that pulled her up to her knees. Restrained, arms spread, the Great Uniter bared her teeth in discomfort and frustration.

“Your conquest,” the Avatar’s eerie voice echoed once more, “Is at an end.”

She came forward, reaching towards the trapped general.

But though she was trapped, kneeling, the most powerful person in the world only a footstep away from destroying her, Kuvira grinned. Her dark eyes were wild and glittering, her teeth bared and grinding together. It wasn’t a pleasant expression.

“Unlikely.” the villainess growled, “In fact, I’m about to perform my magnum opus.”

In her stone bindings, Kuvira flicked her fingers in a beckoning gesture.

The silver pin, the symbol of rank she’d left behind before facing the Avatar, was yanked from the ground and flew towards its target like a bullet.

If the pin had been made of any other element, the Avatar state would have sensed it coming and turned it aside with barely a thought. The only Avatar ever to metal bend was Korra and she was no expert, having only barely learned the basics. It would have taken a master metal bender to sense the quick, subtle attack and not in thousands of years of Avatars was there one who had that skill. Metal was the blind spot.

The tiny dart shot through the wall of flames, then through the shield of air bending, having a slim enough profile to cut through the winds. It struck in the middle of the water tribe girl’s back, lodging itself there, piercing cloth and skin.

And the spirit of every Avatar in history threw back its head and howled.

The part of the pin that stuck in Korra’s back was only about the size of a needle, barely enough to draw blood, but her body convulsed. Her chest thrust out and her arms were thrown back like she was trying to pinch her elbows together. The glow of her eyes flickered, the winds around her wavering, and the deep chorus of Avatar voices that came from her gaping mouth cried out in shock and pain.

Grinning savagely, Kuvira pinched her fingers together and twisted, like she was turning a key in a lock. It made the dart twist ever so slightly.

In response, the mingled voices of the Avatar state let out fresh cries, and Korra staggered as her knees buckled. The tell-tale glow of her eyes grew brighter, then dimmed in one eye, then flickered, like the headlights of a car with a struggling battery. She flexed, contorting as if she was doing some primal, rhythmless dance, the power that was controlling her body going haywire.

Not only was the Avatar’s body short circuiting, but the effects of her bending were too. The walls of fire exploded higher in places, even turning blue for a moment, then in other spots dwindled. The earth around her feet crackled, pillars of rock shooting up randomly, while the winds whipped around in a frenzy. It was an impressive display of might, but it was aimless, the wild thrashing of an infant god.

“The first rule of warfare!” Kuvira shouted, “Know your enemy!”

With the Avatar’s focus awry, the general was able to bring her own earth bending to bear. She jerked her arms and shattered the stone binding her wrists, then stood up, popping her neck.

“I studied you, Avatar!” she advanced, “In his battle with Firelord Ozai, Avatar Aang struck a nerve cluster in his back that activated the Avatar state! Looks like it works both ways!”

The general turned her fingers a bit more and the Avatar screamed, lightning firing from a fingertip and crackling across the sky.

“Shared spiritual knowledge, shared spiritual trauma!” Kuvira sneered, brushing dust from her sleeve, “I knew months ago that was the way to beat you! You were already defeated when you came here, you just didn’t know it!”

Grimacing, snarling at the earth kingdom woman with bestial rage, the Avatar twisted her arm behind her back. Forcing through the spasms and agony, driven by the will of thousands, she grabbed at the pin, trying to find it and yank it free.

Kuvira just shook her head. She wasn’t going to let that happen.

“That’s why you’re a thing of the past!” she stomped her foot, a slender stone post erupting from the ground in front of her, “I came here already victorious!”

The general threw a lazy kick into the post, sending a broken section flying. It smacked into Korra’s face and exploded, snapping her head back.

“You? You just show up and try your best!”

The Avatar staggered back, eyes still glowing but clearly stunned by the blow.

Before she could recover, another pair of kicks sent a stone into her stomach, doubling her over with a grunt, then another into her leg. It knocked the limb out from under her, dropping her to a knee.

Stiff, powers still in flux, she tried to rise, but it was slow, uncoordinated, a struggle with her own body.

“I don’t need the balance or a lion turtle or past lives!” Kuvira advanced, “I make my own destiny!”

Then she proceeded to do something no one had ever done: she began to physically beat the Avatar state itself.