Omegas fury 4/4

Chapter 4

Korra paused in front of the large metal door, reminding herself to breathe. She'd awoken that morning with a knot in her chest, which pulled tighter as she made her way to Republic City's maximum security prison, then to Kuvira's cell. Now, here she was, with only a door between her and the person who had almost destroyed the world.

A shudder ran down Korra's spine. Although she was one of the few who saw past the infamous Great Uniter to the damaged and misguided person beneath, that didn't mean she'd forgotten the scope of Kuvira's crimes, or that she'd forgiven them. If anything, Kuvira's humanity made her all the more frightening—a stark reminder that anyone was capable of committing horrible acts when they forgot balance.

Instinctively, Korra reached out with her chi. The door was made entirely of refined platinum, and she sensed no impurities. That was good. Probably Future Industries' doing—Asami would have insisted. Korra doubted Kuvira would attempt a jailbreak, or put up a fight, but she would take any reassurances she could get. Asami hadn't exactly offered many that morning before leaving for work.

They had shared a mostly silent breakfast together, more resigned than cold. Pema had taken the pups, Asami had left her with a brief goodbye kiss, and now Korra's only companions were the guards behind her at either shoulder.

"I'll shout if I need you," Korra said when she noticed them staring.

"If she threatens you, just use lightning," one of the guards, a tall firebender, said.

The other guard, a shorter metalbender, snorted. She carried a baton. Electric, Korra assumed. "I don't think the Avatar needs your tips, Po. Did you forget who put Kuvira here in the first place?"

Po's expression became sheepish, but Korra gave him a reassuring smile. "I won't be long. Thanks."

The metalbender withdrew a set of keys and unlocked the door. She stepped aside, allowing Korra to enter.

Kuvira's cell was large and barren, not unlike Zaheer's. Green braziers burned at regular intervals on the walls, and faint sunshine fell through a circular window in the roof. The light illuminated a welded circle in the middle of the floor. Kuvira sat there, legs folded in a meditative pose, manacles about her wrists. In her lap, she held a book. As Korra stepped forward, Kuvira folded the corner of her page, closed the book, and lifted her head.

"You came." Her voice was lower and hoarser than Korra remembered. From disuse, perhaps. Her face was gaunter, too, her eyes hollower. Her dark hair hung limp around her face.

Korra worked moisture into her lips. She wasn't sure what to say. None of the sentences she'd rehearsed on the way seemed appropriate anymore. Her eyes flicked to the book in Kuvira's lap. "Guru Laghima's poetry?"

Kuvira offered a tentative smile. "Books are one of the only things prisoners are permitted. I haven't been granted the privilege of asking for my own yet, and I assume the few books available in the library were stocked at Zaheer's request."

Prisoners, Korra noted. She said 'prisoners', not 'we'. Is she separating herself from the rest of them, mentally? Does part of her still think her actions were justified?

"I've never been much for poetry," Korra said aloud. "Give me a good adventure novel any day."

Kuvira arched a brow. "Don't you get enough of that in real life?"

Korra didn't have an answer for that, but she had plenty of questions.

"Why did you ask me to come?"

Kuvira's tired expression solidified into something serious and businesslike. She looked more like the Kuvira that Korra remembered from before, the Captain of Zaofu's guard who had helped bring down Zaheer and saved her father's life.