[ EU ] In an alternate timeline , the Air Nomads are aware of the imminent assault of the Fire Nation and decided to launch a preemptive attack instead .

Tap, tap, tap. 
 
 Gyatso ’ s hurried footsteps echoed in the deserted stone corridor. The tips of his drooping moustache fluttered in the wind like a pair of flying bison tails. Sweat beaded on his bald scalp, rolling over the sapphire-blue arrow-shaped tattoo that pointed to the bridge of his nose. 
 
 Ahead, the carved doors to the Council Chambers were closed. The early afternoon sun streamed through tall arched windows, falling on the door and granting a glimmer of life to the original Southern Air Nomads engraved in the wood. Gyatso kept his gaze fixed on the doors, seeking the counsel of his forebears. They wouldn ’ t have agreed to the madness Tashi was presenting to the Council of Elders. Would they? The wooden statues remained silent, unwilling to share their wisdom. 
 
 But Gyatso was not alone. He glanced over his shoulder at the small boy trailing in his wake. Aang, Avatar and would-be Master of all Four Elements, picked his nose and flicked his discovery out a window. Gyatso fought the urge to sigh, not at Aang ’ s childish behaviour but because he was exactly that: a child. The Council couldn ’ t agree to Tashi ’ s proposal. They had to understand what that would mean for this boy, Avatar or not. 
 
 It was madness. 
 
 Gyatso stopped at the doors and, taking a steadying breath, squared his shoulders. The chain of his Master ’ s medallion rattled. No meditation technique he knew could get rid of the knot in his stomach. He tugged at his collar, the voluminous sleeves of his tangerine-orange robes sliding back to reveal his spindly forearms. 
 
 Aang stepped beside him. “ What ’ re the Elders talking about, Gyatso? ” His high voice rang like bird song to the old monk ’ s ear. 
 
 Gyatso swallowed and put a hand on his young ward ’ s shoulder. The muscles of his face hurt. He wasn ’ t used to being this stern for so long. He forced a grin at Aang. “ The future, nothing more. ” 
 
 Aang looked to the door and aped Gyatso, drawing a deep breath and standing as tall as he could. “ The future... ” The young Avatar nodded. “ Well, if that ’ s all. ” 
 
 Gyatso ’ s heart ached to see the boy, who should have been in the courtyard with the other children, preparing to meet his destiny. Pride, hateful and unwelcome, swelled through the old monk. He had to trust that reason would win the day. The Air Nomads would never vote to go to war. 
 
 It would be madness. 
 
 He put a shaking hand against the warm door and shoved. 
 
 ____________________________________________ 
 
 Aang ’ s couldn ’ t breathe. Everything around him burned. Black smoke coiled up the stone pillars of Wulong Forest like serpents. Blood seeped from a stinging cut on his temple, turning his vision red. His left arm dangled at his side, the pain as white-hot as the Fire Lord ’ s fury. 
 
 None of the Air Nomad ’ s planning had mattered. Even unprepared, Sozin ’ s Fire Nation were more than a match for the monks ’ attack force. Aang tried not to think of the screams of the burning bison as the Fire Navy blasted them from the sky. 
 
 Where was Appa? Lost? He couldn ’ t remember. 
 
 Where were the other monks? Gyatso? Fire and smoke had stolen them from him. 
 
 “ Had enough, Avatar? ” Sozin ’ s rumbling laugh sent shivers down Aang ’ s tattooed spine. 
 
 Avatar... what kind of Avatar was he? The monks had taught him air bending, but he was hardly a Master. Not like Gyatso. And he hadn ’ t even thought of bending the other elements. He could do with some water right now, in fact... 
 
 With a drained sigh, he looked through the heat haze at imposing silhouette of the Fire Lord. Sozin stalked through the flames. Fire-blackened stones crunched beneath his boots. Daggers of blue flame hissed to life from his curled fists. 
 
 Aang wobbled on his feet. Maybe he wasn ’ t the Avatar, maybe he never would be, but he was still an air bender. More than that, he was a monk of the Southern Air Temple. 
 
 “ Not getting tired, are you? ” he shouted at the advancing Fire Lord, his trembling voice betraying him. 
 
 The Fire Lord smirked. “ Not yet! ” He broke into a run. 
 
 Aang channelled his energies down the lines of his tattoos, into his palms. As the Fire Lord neared, Aang released the hurricane he had kept contained, blasting Sozin with everything he had left. 
 

