Chapter Text
The Central Plaza, Yu Dao. Noon
The signing ceremony was supposed to be peaceful. Mayor Morishita stood at the podium, sweating. Zuko stood behind him, flanked by the Gaang. The crowd was a mix of Earth Kingdom citizens (cheering) and Fire Nation colonials (sullen, arms crossed).
Nia stood to Zuko’s right. She was back in her "Statue" mode—¿, clipboard in hand, posture rigid, face blank. Sokka stood next to her, giving her a subtle thumbs-up. She ignored him, but the corner of her lip twitched.
"And so," Zuko stepped up to the podium. "We begin a new era. We will rebuild together."
"With whose gold?!"
A bottle smashed against the podium, showering Zuko’s boots with glass. The crowd screamed. From the back of the square, a group of fifty men marched in. They weren't wearing the masks of the New Ozai Society. They were wearing tattered Fire Nation military uniforms. They were the veterans—the ones who had lost their jobs when the war ended, the ones Nia had cut from the payroll to save the budget.
The Old Guard.
Their leader was Captain Sen, the man Nia had "reassigned" from the bridge project earlier. He looked tired, dirty, and furious. He lit his fists. "You talk about peace, Fire Lord!" Sen shouted. "But you starve your own soldiers to feed the Earth Kingdom! You fired us! You took our pensions to pay for their bridges!"
Zuko stepped down from the dais, hands raised. "Captain Sen. The treasury is strained. We are trying to find placements for everyone, but-"
"Lies!" Kei roared. "You are a traitor who listens to that... that calculator!" He pointed a burning finger at Nia. "She treats soldiers like numbers! She cut our funding! She is strangling the Fire Nation!"
Sokka reached for his boomerang. Toph cracked her knuckles. "Don't," Nia whispered.
She handed her clipboard to Sokka. "Hold this."
"Nia?" Zuko glanced back. "Stay back. I’ll handle this. He’s hurting."
"He is armed," Nia murmured. "And he is inefficient."
Sen laughed, a desperate, jagged sound. "Look at her! Hiding behind her Lord. Come here, little accountant! Let me show you what real fire looks like!"
Sen didn't wait. He thrust his fist forward. A massive fireball roared toward the dais. It was aiming for Nia, but the blast radius was wide, it would hit Zuko, and the Mayor.
Zuko raised his arms to block—
SNAP.
Nia stepped in front of Zuko. She didn't take a stance. She didn't yell. She just snapped her fingers.
A wall of White Light flashed into existence. It wasn't a shield, it was a vacuum. Sen’s orange fireball hit the white light and simply... vanished. There was no explosion. No smoke. The white fire consumed the orange fire instantly, eating the oxygen so fast the attack suffocated before it could burn.
The silence in the plaza was deafening. Nia lowered her hand. A ring of blinding white plasma curled around her index finger like a wedding band.
"You called me a calculator," Nia said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried across the silent square like a bell. "You are correct."
She started walking down the stairs toward the fifty soldiers. The crowd parted. They could feel the heat radiating off her, a dry, chemical heat that tasted like ozone and bleach.
Captain Sen took a step back, his eyes wide. "What... what are you? That’s not fire! That’s..."
"It is combustion," Nia explained calmly, walking closer. "Pure oxygen mix. Approximately three thousand degrees."
She stopped three feet from him. She reached out with her glowing white finger and tapped the steel tip of his spear. HISSS. The steel didn't melt, it sublimated. It turned directly into white gas. The spearhead vanished. The wooden shaft burst into ash in Kei’s hands.
Sen dropped the stick, terrified. "Spirit... she's a dark spirit..."
"I am the Minister of Economics," Nia corrected coldly. "And you are damaging public property."
She looked at the fifty veterans. "If you attack the Fire Lord again, I will not arrest you, nor will I banish you. I will delete you from the census." Her golden eyes narrowed. "And there will be nothing left to bury."
She snapped her fingers again. CRACK. The sound broke the sound barrier. The white flame vanished.
"Go home," Nia ordered. "Your severance checks will be mailed on Tuesday. You may leave."
The veterans didn't fight. They didn't argue. They dropped their weapons and ran.
Nia stood alone in the empty space the rebels had left. She took a deep breath, forcing the Void back down, locking the "Star" away. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
She turned around. Sokka looked proud ("My Science Sister!")Toph looked impressed, Katara was shocked, but Zuko... Zuko looked horrified, and Aang looked sick.
Later that night, outside the city limits. Nia sat apart from the group, staring at the unlit fire pit. It was cold, but she refused to light it.
Aang walked over to her. He sat down cross-legged. "Nia," Aang said softly.
"If this is about the budget for Appa’s hay," Nia said defensively, her voice tight, "the answer is still no."
"It's not about the hay," Aang said. He looked at her hands. "It's about the fire… the white fire."
Nia stiffened. "It was effective. The threat was neutralized. No one died."
"It was terrifying," Aang said honestly. He rubbed his arms, shivering. "Nia... fire is life. It breathes. When Zuko bends, I feel warmth, and when Azula bends, I feel cold, but when you bent back there... I felt nothing."
Aang looked at her with sad, grey eyes. "It felt like you opened a door to a place where nothing exists. It’s like... death."
Nia flinched. The mask cracked, and a single tear escaped, freezing on her cheek. "I know," she whispered. "My fire died seven years ago, Avatar. I am just burning the ghost."
Zuko, who had been listening from the shadows, stepped into the light. He looked at Nia. He finally understood everything. The cold hands, the refusal to light campfires, the clipboard she used as a shield. She wasn't cold because she was heartless, she was cold because she was holding a supernova in a glass jar, and she was terrified of dropping it.
He didn't order them to pack, not yet. The night was too dark, and the group was too shaken. Instead, he walked over to the unlit fire pit. He sat down across from Nia. He breathed out a small, controlled stream of fire —orange, warm, and gentle—igniting the wood.
Nia flinched at the sudden light. She scooted back on her log, pulling her sleeves down to cover her hands.
Aang watched her. He held his glider staff like a walking stick, his face knit in deep concentration.
"You called it 'Combustion'," Aang said softly, breaking the silence. "But firebenders draw from the breath, from the sun. You... you didn't draw from anywhere. You just... deleted the air."
"I did not delete it," Nia said, her voice hollow. "I changed its state."
Aang tilted his head, his arrow glowing faintly in the firelight. "State?"
Nia looked at Katara, who was sitting tensely by the supplies. "Katara," Nia called out, her voice raspy. "May I borrow a sphere of water?"
Katara hesitated, but she bent a small blob of water from her waterskin and floated it over to the center of the circle. Nia held her hand under the water, careful not to touch it.
"Avatar," Nia said, looking into the suspended liquid. "What is this?"
"Water," Aang said. "Liquid."
"And if Katara freezes it?"
"Ice," Aang said. "Solid."
"And if Zuko heats it?"
"Steam," Aang replied. "Gas. The airbenders know gas best. Clouds, mist."
"Correct," Nia said. She looked up at Aang. Her golden eyes were intense, desperate to make him understand that she wasn't a monster, just a consequence of physics. "Solid. Liquid. Gas. The Three States of Matter. Every bender knows these. The world is built on them."
She raised a trembling finger. "But what happens if you heat the gas?"
Aang blinked. "It... it just gets hot."
"No," Nia whispered. "If you heat the gas... if you add enough energy to tear the very air apart... to strip the electrons from the atoms... it changes again."
She took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, found the Void, and opened them. She didn't summon the wall of destruction. She summoned a tiny, microscopic spark of White Fire. It sat on her fingertip, buzzing like an angry hornet. The air around it shimmered violently.
"This," Nia said, staring at the spark, "is the Fourth State. The scientists in Ba Sing Se call it Plasma."
Sokka, who had been pretending to sleep, bolted upright. "Plasma," he whispered, his eyes wide. "That... is a really cool name."
"It is not air anymore," Nia explained to Aang, ignoring Sokka. "I have stripped the air of its structure. I have torn it down to its raw energy. It is ionized gas. It is not 'Death,' Avatar. It is what the stars are made of."
Aang stared at the tiny white star on her finger. He reached out with his senses. He didn't feel the "life" of fire. He felt Energy. Raw, unbridled, cosmic energy. The kind of energy that existed before the Spirits.
"Lightning," Aang realized, his eyes widening. "Lightning is plasma."
"Yes," Nia nodded. "Azula creates it for a split second. I sustain it, but to sustain it..." She closed her hand, snuffing the spark instantly. The darkness seemed heavier than before. "...I have to be empty. If I have emotion, the plasma becomes unstable. It explodes, so I must be the Void. I must be cold. Always."
Aang sat down next to her. The fear was gone from his face, replaced by a deep, sad understanding. He looked up at the night sky.
"The Sun is plasma," Aang said quietly. "But the Sun also gives life. The Dragons... they breathed fire, but they weren't cold."
"The Dragons are dead," Nia said flatly. "General Iroh killed the last one."
"Energy cannot be destroyed, Nia," Aang said, smiling a small, wise smile. "Only changed. Isn't that the First Law of Thermodynamics?"
Nia looked at him, surprised. "You know the laws?"
"I know that you are stuck in the Fourth State," Aang said gently. "You are all energy and no spirit. You are a star that forgot how to be a sun."
Aang stood up and bowed to her, not as an enemy, but as a teacher. "You understand the physics, Nia. But you need to remember the poetry."
Nia stared at him. She looked at her cold hands. "Poetry is inefficient," she whispered.
"Maybe," Aang shrugged. "But it's warm."
***
Later that night, the camp was silent. Sokka and the others were asleep (or pretending to be). The fire had died down to embers, but Nia was awake. She was sitting on her log, shaking. The use of the White Fire earlier had drained her, so her body temperature had plummeted, and her teeth were chattering softly.
She felt a weight settle over her shoulders. It was Zuko’s heavy red cloak.
Zuko sat down next to her on the log. He didn't say anything. He just sat close enough that his arm brushed against hers. Nia instinctively leaned toward him, seeking the heat source.
"You should fear me," Nia whispered into the dark. "You saw what I did to that spear. I could have done that to a person."
"But you didn't," Zuko said. He poked the fire with a stick, making the orange sparks fly up. "You destroyed the weapon. You saved the man."
"I am a walking industrial accident, Zuko."
"You're my Minister," Zuko corrected.
He turned to look at her. In the dim light, she looked pale and fragile. "Why didn't you tell me?" Zuko asked. "About the plasma? About... the cold?"
"Because you are the Fire Lord," Nia said, pulling his cloak tighter around herself. "You need strength, you do not need a bender who is broken."
Zuko reached out. He took her hand. It was freezing, like holding a piece of ice. He didn't pull away. He sandwiched her hand between both of his, letting his natural firebending heat seep into her skin.
"I don't need a bender," Zuko said quietly. "I have plenty of those. I need Nia."
Nia looked at their hands. The warmth was spreading up her arm, thawing the ice in her chest just a fraction. "This is..." she started to say inefficient. She stopped. "This is pleasant," she admitted softly.
"Get some sleep," Zuko murmured. "We have a long ride tomorrow."
"To the next colony?"
Zuko looked at the fire. He remembered Aang’s words about the star and the sun. "No," Zuko said. "We're done with inspections for a while. We're going to find you some poetry."
***
Two days later…
Location: A roadside clearing near the colony of Shu Jing.
Objective: Teach the Minister of Economics how to make a "happy flame."
Nia was standing in the middle of the grass. She was wearing:
- Her under-robes.
- Zuko’s spare tunic.
- A thick wool scarf Sokka had lent her.
- Gloves.
She looked like a very angry, very cold pile of laundry.
Aang bounded around her, full of energy. "Okay, Nia! Forget the Plasma. Forget the math. We're going back to basics! Firebending 101!"
"I am ready," Nia said, her voice muffled by the scarf. "I have reviewed the respiratory requirements for combustion."
"No!" Aang stopped. He put his hands on her shoulders. "No thinking. Feeling. Fire comes from the breath, but also from the gut. It's energy! It's excitement! You have to feel the drive!"
He stepped back. "Okay. First form. The Basic Punch. I want you to punch the air and shout 'HA!'. Make a little puff of orange fire. Just a little one."
Nia nodded solemnly. She widened her stance. She looked like she was preparing to file a very aggressive tax audit. She took a deep breath. She calculated the trajectory. She located the target.
She punched. "Ha," she said, in a flat, monotone voice.
Nothing happened. Not a spark. Not a puff. Just a sad movement of air.
Sokka, sitting on a rock nearby eating a peach, held up a scorecard he had drawn on a leaf. 2/10.
"Okay," Aang said, scratching his head. "The form was... technically perfect. But the shout? It needs more oomph. More passion! Try again! Roar like a Tiger-Dillo!"
Nia frowned. "Aang, screaming does not increase the oxygen saturation of the immediate atmosphere."
"It increases the spirit!" Aang insisted. "Come on! Give me rage! Give me joy! Give me... annoyance at Sokka!"
Nia looked at Sokka. Sokka took a loud, slurping bite of his peach. "Don't mind me. Just watching the master at work."
Nia felt a twitch of genuine annoyance. Okay, she thought. Just a little heat. Just a little orange.
She punched again. "HA!"
FIZZT.
A tiny, microscopic burst of white light popped at the end of her fist like a flash. It made a sound like a mosquito getting zapped. A nearby dandelion instantly wilted from the radiant heat.
"White!" Aang groaned, face-palming. "Nia, you're doing the Plasma Death Thing again!"
"I am trying!" Nia snapped, shivering. "I cannot access the Orange spectrum! My internal regulator defaults to high-efficiency combustion! I am stuck on 'Kill Mode'!"
Zuko, who was leaning against a tree sharpening his swords, tried very hard not to laugh. "She's a prodigy," Zuko deadpanned.
Aang took a deep breath. "Okay," Aang said, changing tactics. "Maybe punching is too aggressive. Let's try control. The Leaf Exercise."
He picked up a dry leaf. He placed it in the center of a stone. "Focus on the leaf," Aang whispered. "Don't burn it. Just... warm it up. Make the edges curl. Gently."
Nia knelt in the grass. She stared at the leaf. Warm the leaf, she told herself. Do not vaporize the leaf. The leaf is a friend. The leaf is... a tax deduction.
She held her hand over it. She focused on "Warmth." She thought about tea. She thought about dumplings. She thought about turtle-ducks.
Her hand started to glow. It wasn't white! It was a dull, reddish color.
"Look!" Katara whispered from the sidelines. "She's doing it!"
Nia’s eyes widened. She was doing it! She was making heat without plasma! She got excited. "I am doing it," Nia whispered. "I am modulating the temperature!"
But then, she thought: Wait, what is the ignition point of a dry leaf? If I exceed 451 degrees Fahrenheit... The math kicked in. The "Void" answered.
FLASH.
CRACK.
The leaf didn't burn. It exploded. A tiny sonic boom knocked Nia backward onto her butt. Where the leaf had been, there was now a perfectly circular scorch mark on the stone, and absolutely no ash. The leaf had been atomized.
Nia sat in the grass, staring at the empty spot. "I failed," she whispered.
Sokka held up a new leaf-card. 10/10 for Destruction. 0/10 for Leaf Safety.
Aang sat down next to her. He didn't look discouraged. He looked thoughtful. "You didn't fail," Aang said kindly. "You just... over-calculated."
"I cannot turn it off, Aang," Nia said, pulling her knees to her chest. "I want to be warm. I hate being cold. But every time I reach for the fire, the Void answers first."
She looked at her hands. "I am a bad bender."
Zuko walked over. He didn't say anything. He sat down on the grass next to her. "You're not a bad bender," Zuko said into her ear. "You're just... specialized."
"I vaporized a leaf, Zuko," Nia mumbled. "It was an innocent leaf."
"It was a traitorous leaf," Zuko assured her. "It deserved it."
Aang watched them. He saw the way Nia instantly relaxed when Zuko was near her. He saw the way the "Void" in her eyes softened. Aang smiled.
"You know," Aang said, standing up. "I think we're done with lessons for today. We can't teach you to be warm, Nia." He pointed at Zuko. "But I think you're finding your own source."
Nia looked at Zuko. "He is an external heat source," Nia argued weakly. "It is a temporary solution."
"For now," Zuko agreed. "But we're still going to the Dragons."