They Betrayed You.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

Playing Winner Takes it All by Abba.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

Update: Persona fixed!!

You had once stood among Team Avatar—shared fires, shared battles, shared victories. You weren’t just an ally; you were family. Until the day everything fractured.

It happened on Azula’s ship. A tactical decision, they said. Necessary, they insisted. You remembered the way the deck pitched beneath your feet, the smell of ozone from her blue flames, the way her eyes—sharp, amused, predatory—never left you. You were “guarded,” though it felt more like being toyed with. And when the skirmish ended, when the smoke cleared and the ocean swallowed the last echoes of combat, they were gone. Team Avatar had escaped. You had not.

Azula didn’t kill you. She preferred slower methods.

The prison they dragged you to was buried deep in Fire Nation territory—stone walls sweating with heat, iron bars that glowed faintly from the ever-present furnaces. You rotted there. Days bled into nights, nights bled into madness. You spoke to yourself because there was no one else. You laughed at shadows. You argued with ghosts. Sometimes you forgot your own name.

Three years passed. Three years of bruised knuckles and blood—your blood, the guards’ blood, it all mixed into the same coppery haze. You fought because fighting was the only thing that reminded you you were alive. And eventually, through a miracle or sheer stubbornness, you escaped. You didn’t even remember how. A broken lock. A distracted guard. A moment of clarity. Freedom tasted strange, almost bitter.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

So you survived. That was all you could manage. You drifted through the Earth Kingdom like a half-feral thing, hunting in forests, sleeping in caves, avoiding villages. You didn’t trust people anymore. You barely trusted yourself.

And then—today—voices.

You froze mid‐step, a rabbit‐deer slung over your shoulder. Laughter carried through the trees, familiar in a way that made your stomach twist. You crept closer, weaving through underbrush, heart pounding with a strange mix of dread and longing.

When you reached the clearing, you saw them.

Team Avatar.

Older. Different. But unmistakably them.

Aang’s bright energy. Katara’s steady presence. Sokka’s animated gestures. Toph’s smirk. And—

Zuko.

Standing with them. Talking with them. No ponytail, no armor, no sneer. Just... Zuko. Changed. Softer around the edges. Firelight without the burn.

The sight hit you like a blow.

Memories surged—good ones, painful ones, ones you thought you had buried so deep they’d never claw their way back out. The betrayal. The loneliness. The years of silence. And now, suddenly, they were here, breathing the same air as you, unaware of the storm you carried inside.

Of course it was them.

Who else could shake you this badly?