The Battle of the Republic City (1)

Kre'as, the Atlantean invader with skin as pale as moonlight and tattoos like living sapphire, stepped through the rubble of the shattered wall. The breach framed him dramatically, casting jagged shadows over his lithe form. His presence alone seemed to command the elements; the air grew colder, the moisture in the atmosphere condensing at his mere will. Each step he took toward the waiting battalion was measured, deliberate - a predator among prey.

His opponents, a line of seasoned soldiers, stood their ground, expressions set in grim determination. Yet something flickered behind their eyes - not just fear but an acknowledgment of the extraordinary power before them. They had heard from Toph that Kre'as, the waterbender whose prowess was immense, but hearing was not seeing, and seeing was truly believing.

"Come then," Kre'as taunted, a feral grin spreading across his features. "Let's see if your walls can protect you from the sea's embrace."

As the first battalion launched their attack, a flurry of fire, earth, and water spewed forth towards Kre'as, an unruly connection of the elements. The ground shook with each strike as the army unleashed their full force upon him. But as the smoke cleared, they were met with a horrifying sight - not a single charred mark from the flames, and what they had mistaken for smoke was actually steam, as if the fire had been swiftly quenched like a campfire doused with water. The earth beneath Kre'as froze solid, resembling more of a glittering glacier than solid ground. And the water that had been hurled at him? It seemed to only add to his arsenal. Kre'as grinned, relishing in the sensation of being attacked with deadly intent once again. He decided to return the gesture in kind, showing no mercy in his retaliation.

With no more than a raised brow and a flick of his wrist, Kre'as summoned the wrath of the ocean itself. Spiraling whips of water, glowing faintly blue from his tattoos' reflected light, materialized from the vapor-laden air. They lashed out, serpent-fast and brutally precise.

A deafening crack fills the air as the first whip lashes out like a bolt of lightning, striking an earthbender in the chest with a sickening thud.

The tendril pierces through his flesh and blood gushes from the gaping wound as he crumples to the ground, colliding with his comrades in a bloody heap. Their screams echo off the nearby buildings as they realize their fallen companion is beyond saving.

Another whip followed, then another.

Kre'as directed the water whips with elegance and ferocity like a conductor leading an orchestra to its crescendo.

The benders were torn apart, their bodies shredded by the relentless assault. With each strike, the water around them turned to solid ice, trapping their flailing limbs in icy tombs. Their screams were muffled by the frozen spikes, turning their screams into gurgles of blood, as the ice spread with viral speed, consuming them in a cruel embrace of death.

Each warrior became a statue mid-motion, frozen in time, their faces etched with shock. A few managed to raise hasty defenses, but even their walls of stone crumbled beneath the siege of Kre'as's watery tendrils. The sheer force of his bending echoed the might of a ferocious Unagi, untamed and wild, yet under his control, it was terrifyingly precise.

The remaining benders braced themselves against the onslaught, muscles tensed for a struggle they knew in their bones would be formidable. Kre'as twirled, his dance of destruction painting him as a silhouette against the setting sun. He was no mere fighter; he was the embodiment of the unbridled sea, and he was thrilled to show these mortals the meaning of power.

The seasoned warriors of Republic City, once brimming with the confidence that came from years of bending mastery, now stood in a collective hush. Their breaths formed misty clouds in the air as they watched, wide-eyed and hearts pounding, the display of raw elemental fury.

"Steady," one of them muttered, though his voice betrayed the dread creeping into their ranks. They had faced fire nation's world domination, earthbenders might, even the fluidity of waterbenders—but nothing like the specter of Kre'as, the Atlantean with veins of ice water.

Kre'as' laugh rang out, sending chills down the spines of all who heard it. It seemed to dance with the fierce winds that surrounded him, adding to the ominous atmosphere. Standing in the gaping hole that he had emerged from, his silhouette served as both a taunt and a warning of the impending death he would bring upon his enemies. Despite this, one couldn't imagine Kre'as having any conflicting thoughts about invading foreign lands and causing harm to innocent lives. Once he began fighting, he was an unstoppable force, his mind consumed by battle and difficult to find any trace of compassion within him. He was truly a warrior through and through. His mind was like fragile ice, cracking ever so slightly with each battle he had.

"Let's raise the stakes, shall we?" Kre'as called out, an unsettling mirth in his tone as if he were merely a child playing in a puddle rather than a warrior conjuring death.

With a theatrical flourish, he raised his arms, the tattoos glowing brighter as if resonating with the depths of the ocean itself. The waters around the city walls began to roil and rise, answering the call of their master. The second battalion watched, helpless, as a behemoth wave took shape, casting a monstrous shadow over them.

"Brace!" someone yelled, but it was too late.

The tidal force crashed down upon them with the wrath of the sea, sweeping away their formations like they were mere driftwood. Cries were drowned out by the roar of the deluge as the wave consumed everything in its path.

Then, as quickly as it had surged, the water receded, leaving behind scattered remnants of the battalion—some struggling to their feet, others ominously still.

But Kre'as was not finished. With a twisted smirk, he gestured skyward, commanding the lingering droplets to lift into the air. A fine mist enveloped the city, turning the scene ethereal, otherworldly. The warriors' eyes stung as the temperature plummeted, their breaths now ragged gasps in the frigid air.

"Behold your winter tomb," Kre'as whispered with a commanding tone, the words barely audible but heavy with the presence of someone who elevated above a normal human.

He summoned more, a torrent of seawater cascading over the city walls, as if the ocean itself sought to reclaim the land. Without warning, the world turned white. Snowflakes, sharp as daggers, swirled and multiplied, whipped into a frenzied dance by Kre'as' relentless power.

A man-made blizzard tore through Republic City, a spectacle of terror and beauty as every street, building, and living being succumbed to the icy grasp. Under the watchful gaze of the pale-eyed Kre'as, the city froze solid, a crystalline prison reflecting the dying light.

The soldiers began to choke on the frosty air, as they took deep breaths, the icy flakes would penetrate their lungs and freeze them from the inside out, a truly insidious way to die.

Sokka barked orders to the battalion of soldiers, his breath visible in the frigid air. They huddled together, trying to escape the deadly chill of the frost that threatened to consume them. Earthbenders created small walls around each group, the firebenders created rings of fire around them, providing warmth and a faint flicker of hope in the darkness. "He's a monster," muttered some of the soldiers, their voices trembling with fear. "This is too much for us to handle."

"He's not a monster, he's a deity," one soldier said, his sanity slipping away under the weight of their situation. "We should worship him and bow down."

"Don't listen to them; the Avatar will defeat him," an earthbender countered, determination seeping into her voice. "He has never failed us before."

"But how can you be so sure?" another argued, his doubts and mistrust spreading like a disease among them. "He's been hiding while we fight and die for nothing. He should have been on the front lines with us." The once unified group began to fracture under the pressure of their enemy and their own doubts, threatening to shatter completely at any moment.

Kre'as spoke to himself above the deafening blizzard, his heart reflecting in the desolation he had created. As the embodiment of winter's relentless cold, he stood victorious over the chaos and observed the soldiers frantically moving about like ants on their anthill. He glanced towards the Avatar, wondering when he would come to aid these insignificant beings.