Aang opened his eyes slowly, his skull pounding with pain as though a thousand drums were beating inside it. The air around him shimmered with strange colors, neither day nor night, a realm suspended between both. For a fleeting second, he wondered if he was dreaming, until a thunderous explosion shattered the stillness. The ground trembled, and the sound ripped through the world like the breaking of the heavens.
His eyes flew open. Memory struck him like lightning. The battle. Tai Lung.
He stumbled upright, clutching his head, his breath ragged. All around stretched a barren plain. But far in the distance, stood a purple sphere. Aang's blood turned to ice. He knew this place. He had seen it before, this is the spirit world where Vaatu was sealed.
Then came the sound. A slow voice behind him.
"So," it said softly, "you're already awake? I would've preferred to end this while you slept."
Aang spun around.
Tai Lung stood behind him, calm, upright, and once again in his human form. His fur and bestial features were gone. Yet there was something sharper in his eyes. But what seized Aang's attention wasn't Tai Lung. It was the being hovering beside him.
A dark, swirling mass of red and black, moving like liquid shadow. Vaatu. Aang's breath caught in his throat.
His gaze darted to the side, to where the ancient tree that once imprisoned the Spirit of darkness and Chaos had stood. Now, it was nothing but a jagged ruin.
"After ten thousand years," Vaatu said, his form rippling, "I am finally free, Raava… and there is nothing you can do about it."
Aang's anger rose like fire. "You used me!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the hollow sky. "You used me to open the portal and free Vaatu!"
Tai Lung raised an eyebrow, his tone infuriatingly calm. "The portal is still closed," he replied. "And I certainly didn't use you."
But Aang wasn't listening. The fury boiling inside him reached its peak; his eyes began to glow, trying to enter the Avatar State. Winds rose at his feet. Tai Lung moved before he could enter it completely.
He crossed the space between them in a blur. His fists struck in rapid, precise bursts, every blow aimed at chi points and nerves. Pain exploded through Aang's body; his limbs stiffened, his glow faltered. Within moments, he was on the ground again, gasping, his strength bleeding away.
Tai Lung caught him by the back of the neck and forced him down, pressing him to his knees. His grip was unyielding.
"Now," Tai Lung said quietly.
"With pleasure," hissed Vaatu.
From the dark spirit's form, tendrils of shadow unfurled and lunged toward Aang. They coiled around his head, and before he could scream, they plunged into his mouth, writhing as they went. Aang arched in agony, his body convulsing as the tendrils pulled, tugged, and tore, not at his flesh, but at his very soul.
And then, Raava emerged.
A radiant, white-blue light burst from within him, taking shape mid-air, her form trembling as Vaatu's darkness pulled her free. The connection between her and Aang broke like a snapped chain. Aang fell to the ground, choking, empty. His body felt hollow, his spirit half-torn away. He looked up weakly as the two spirits, light and dark, clashed above, their energies spiraling, consuming, biting into one another.
He could feel it. The bond. The voices. The guidance. All gone. The Avatar Cycle ended.
Tai Lung released him and stepped toward the battling spirits. His hands glowed an eerie green, and energy rippled through his palms. Slowly, deliberately, he began to weave the power outward, threads of emerald light spinning through the air, surrounding the two spirits.
Raava screamed, her voice like a breaking crystal. "Stop, human! What are you doing?!"
Vaatu only laughed. "It's pointless, Raava. It is the end."
"Stop!" Aang cried hoarsely, forcing himself to his knees. "Stop!"
He tried to run forward, every muscle screaming in protest. But before he could reach them, a vast shadow fell across him. A weight like a mountain slammed him to the ground.
Aang looked up and his eyes widened in disbelief.
Above him loomed Wan Shi Tong, the great spirit owl, eyes full of cold wisdom.
"Stay still, human," the spirit said, his voice low and resonant.
Aang froze, powerless beneath the ancient spirit's talons. He could only watch as Tai Lung's green light wrapped tighter and tighter around Raava and Vaatu. The two spirits' forms began to twist, compress, until they were gone.
And in Tai Lung's palm lay a small jade pendant, perfectly round, glowing faintly. The stone took the shape of Yin and Yang.
Tai Lung stared at it in silence for a moment. "Fitting shape," he murmured. "Considering their nature."
He turned to Wan Shi Tong, his face calm. "It's over now." He stepped forward and extended his hand with the Jade to Wan Shi Tong.
Wan Shi Tong took it and tilted his head. "How long will it last?"
"Ten thousand years," Tai Lung replied simply.
The owl's feathers ruffled in approval. "Then I will ensure it is safe."
Without another word, Wan Shi Tong spread his enormous wings and took to the skies, vanishing into the horizon.
Tai Lung stood there for a long while, the silence settling once more over the spirit plain. Then, he turned his gaze to Aang.
"It's over now," he said, almost gently. "You are no longer the Avatar. And there will be no more Avatars."
Aang lifted his head, his face pale and stricken. "Why?" he rasped. "Why would you do this? Why plunge the world into chaos and darkness?"
Tai Lung smiled faintly, though there was no joy in it. "And who said I am doing that?" he asked. "Better still, who decided the Avatar is the source of balance and what the world needs?"
"Raava is the Spirit of Light and Order," Aang said, his voice trembling yet firm. "The world needs her."
Tai Lung's golden eyes locked on him. "No," he said simply. "It doesn't."
Before Aang could speak again, Tai Lung strode forward. With easy motion, he seized the boy, flinging him over his shoulder as though he was a sack of potatoes.
"What are you doing?!" Aang shouted.
"What do you think?" Tai Lung replied dryly, walking with a calmness that made Aang's panic feel louder than ever. "We're leaving the Spirit World. I'm taking you with me."
Aang twisted, trying to wriggle free. "Put me down! I will stay here! I'll save Raava!"
"There is nothing to save," Tai Lung said, his tone unbothered, as though explaining a simple fact. "She's just asleep."
"Even if you bring me back to the Human World," Aang said through gritted teeth, his anger and desperation rising like fire, "I'll find a way back! I'll come here again and save her!"
Tai Lung gave a low sigh, almost weary. "You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" he murmured. "If you haven't realized it by now, I don't want to kill you and I'm not about to let you die because of my decision."
"Then free Raava," Aang said sharply.
Tai Lung stopped walking. Slowly, he lifted Aang from his shoulder and placed him on the ground.
"For the balance and peace I seek," Tai Lung said quietly, "Raava is a hindrance… and a harm to the world."
"You're wrong," Aang said stubbornly, his fists clenched at his sides.
Tai Lung gave a small, humorless smile. "Fine," he said. "Then let me explain why Raava is harmful and why Wan, the first Avatar, made a terrible mistake."
Aang said nothing. He stood still, chest heaving, his grey eyes fixed on Tai Lung. Deep inside, he wanted to believe Tai Lung lying, but a part of him, an instinct, told him that Tai Lung believed every word he spoke.
Tai Lung crossed his arms. "Tell me," he said. "What do you know about Harmonic Convergence?"
Aang swallowed, his mind searching through lessons and memories of past lives he could no longer reach. "Harmonic Convergence," he began carefully, "is a supernatural phenomenon that happens once every ten thousand years. When the planets align, spiritual energy is greatly amplified, and the spirit portals at the North and South Poles merge. An aura of spirit energy envelops the Earth."
Tai Lung nodded slowly. "Correct," he said. "But what if I told you that the spirit energy shouldn't envelop the Earth in the first place?"
Aang frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"What if I told you," he said "that the spirits were never meant to live among men… and that Raava, your great Spirit of Light, should never have walked the mortal world in the first place?"
Aang's heart skipped a beat. "That's impossible," he whispered.
But as Tai Lung turned his gaze upward, toward the pale, swirling sky, the look in his eyes was neither cruel nor mocking, only certain.
"Is it?" he said softly. "Then tell me, Aang… if light and dark were meant to coexist within balance, why did Raava sealing Vaatu not break that balance? And if the darkness and chaos sealed why the peace and balance never persisted?"
Aang had no answer.