ATLA: Azlua

The air outside Phoenix City Hall was heavy with the promise of disappointment. Ty Lee stood on the stone steps, her arms crossed lightly as her gaze swept the empty square. The noon sun cast sharp shadows over the city, its light seeming to highlight the absence of anyone answering her summons. She'd issued the call for a meeting, hoping to gather representatives from the city's districts to hear their grievances and begin rebuilding trust. But as the minutes stretched into an hour, the square remained eerily silent.

Her shoulders sagged slightly, the edges of her optimism beginning to fray. Zira, standing a step behind her in her repaired armor, glanced at her with concern but remained silent. Ty Lee pressed her lips together, her bright energy dulled under the weight of the quiet rejection.

She was about to call it a day when she heard footsteps echoing through the square. Turning quickly, she saw Shen approaching, his youthful face alight with nervous energy. Beside him walked an older man, his weathered features framed by a scruffy beard peppered with gray. His clothes were plain but practical, and his eyes carried the weight of someone who had seen too much of life's harshness.

Shen stopped a few feet from Ty Lee, looking slightly sheepish. "I brought someone," he said, motioning to the older man. "He... he said he'd talk to you."

The older man stepped forward, his movements deliberate, his expression unreadable. "Name's Haran," he said gruffly. "I'm here on behalf of the eastern districts."

Ty Lee's heart leapt, though she kept her face calm and composed. "Thank you for coming, Haran," she said warmly. "I'm glad to hear from you. I've been waiting to listen to—"

Haran held up a hand, cutting her off. "I'll hear you out," he said, his tone firm, "but not here. Too many eyes. Too many ears."

Zira's posture stiffened immediately, her hand reflexively moving to the hilt of her sword. "Absolutely not," she said sharply, stepping between Ty Lee and Haran. "The city is still unstable, and there are rebels everywhere. We're not walking blindly into a trap."

Haran's eyes flicked to Zira, unimpressed. "Figures. You lot always want to talk on your own terms."

Ty Lee placed a gentle hand on Zira's shoulder, stepping forward to address her directly. "Zira," she said softly but firmly, "I'm asking them to trust me. It's only right that I take the first step."

Zira's eyes searched Ty Lee's face, her jaw clenching as she weighed her options. After a moment, she let out a sharp exhale and nodded. "Fine. But I'm coming with you. No arguments."

Ty Lee smiled, relief evident on her face. "Of course. But just us. No guards. We're trying to build trust, not scare them."

Zira didn't look pleased but didn't argue further. Haran watched the exchange with a faint smirk, though he didn't comment. Instead, he motioned for them to follow him. "This way," he said simply.

--

The industrial district of Phoenix City was as bleak as Ty Lee had imagined, though standing within its heart was far worse than observing it from a report. The air was heavy with smoke, the sun dimmed by a thick haze of soot and grime. Buildings were crumbling, their facades cracked and stained. Streets were littered with debris, and the few people walking around moved with sluggish steps, their faces pale and gaunt.

Haran led Ty Lee and Zira to the district's central factory, a massive, soot-streaked structure that dominated the skyline. Its furnaces roared like beasts, and the rhythmic clanging of machinery reverberated through the air. Workers shuffled in and out, their bodies bent from long hours and the weight of exploitation. Even children worked among them, their small hands carrying tools and parts too large for their frames.