chapter 2

The sun shone warmly through the dusty glass of the window, and Ryga's eyes shot

open. His body, sore from the previous day's exertions, sprung into action, and he leapt out of

bed, running out the door of the Rolling Stone Inn and into the world.

It was time.

"And your total comes out to... seventy-three silver pieces and five copper! Would you

like a bag?"

Turned out when you lived in a crazy fantasy world, you could get really hyped up for

anything at all. Including retail work.

Ryga smiled and waved as yet another satisfied customer exited the store, bag in hand.

His cheery attitude had been met with a lot of surprise since he'd started working at Dawn 'Til

Dust, the run-down-ish convenience store type place in the small earthbending village he'd been

camped out in. He couldn't exactly blame them. He figured cashiering was generally an even

more thankless job in a world with the looming threat of superpowered fascists.

At least he didn't seem to be annoying anyone. That was always a concern. But people

seemed to genuinely appreciate his cheerful demeanor, and he was glad.

Yes, he was going to try to become self-sufficient at some point. But Ryga didn't know

how to hunt. The vast majority of his time in his old life had been spent parked on the couch or

in front of his computer. For now, buying food was his best bet, and apparently, even magical

societies ran on capitalism. So yeah, it wasn't glamorous, but steady work was necessary for

now just to live... and for the Tickets.

Superpowers didn't come cheap. Skill Tickets were a gold piece each, and Summon

Tickets were ten. Which made sense; he was kind of OP already. But still. Annoying. And as

someone who'd never really expected to have a life after high school, Ryga had never actually

figured out how to budget his money. Which meant that now, he was spending a bit of his

money on day-to-day necessities, way too much money on cool stuff he didn't need, and

keeping what little remained in his shoe (and then, when that didn't work, in a satchel that may

have technically been a purse.) So. Pretty much like his old life, then.

At least work was good. Ryga had hated every second of school and had really never

cared much for anything other than video games and TV, but retail was surprisingly fun. He got

to smile and wave at strangers without anyone looking at him funny, and he got to practice his

small-talk skills. He felt kind of like a video game NPC - which, yeah, not the ideal role in a video

game, but it really could be worse.

"Have a good day!" Ryga waved another customer out only to have his manager tap his

shoulder. He sighed. "Come on, can't I do some overtime?"

Apparently, child labor laws existed in the world of Avatar, too. Good for the world; bad

for him. He'd been reincarnated into a body identical to his previous one, so, for all intents and

purposes still sixteen. Which meant there were some pretty severe limits on how long and hard

he could work.

Not that he minded necessarily. Roaming around in the jungles and deserts was

awesome, too. Just a little aimless.

His manager shook his head. "Kid, we've been over this. You're not dying, you don't

have a family that desperately needs supporting, you don't have any special circumstances

whatsoever. That means no overtime I can't afford."

Ryga pouted. "Fine..." He walked out the door, shoulders slumped as far as he could get

them for dramatic effect but shooting back up to attention at all the smiles and waves he

received the second he stepped outside.

"Hey, Ryga!"

"New guy! How's it going!"

It was a little embarrassing, but Ryga had made something of an impression in the short

time he'd been in town. People weren't used to seeing someone who was so cheerful all the

time, least of all an earthbender. (Ryga had flexed his Grassy Terrain skills more than once, but

he was playing his more difficult to explain abilities close to the chest for now.) They were in

awe, almost, of how easy he kept his spirits up.

Yeah, well, if only it really was easy.

Ryga's smile faltered for just a moment. Then it was back, full-force. "I'm good, I'm good!

You know. Stayin' on that grind."

The women who'd greeted him looked at each other, smiling but bewildered, before

shrugging. "Good luck with that!"

Ryga laughed and ran off into the nearby forest. The moment he was alone, the smile

dropped off his face.

Sometimes it didn't really strike him that he was in a different world. Ryga was an

out-of-sight, out-of-mind kind of person. But then he'd use normal, modern slang that nobody

understood, or catch himself reaching for his phone, and then he would remember.

He was alone, far away from everyone and everything he'd ever known.

And he didn't miss it. He didn't miss it at all. If anything, this new life was a relief. But it

was... strange. Alienating.

"You have to stop."

Ryga jumped, then shook his head. Still weird, having a disembodied voice that only he

could hear talk to him. Stop what, man? I'm literally just existing.

"Exactly. You're just wandering around, without direction."

Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly given a direction. I was just plunked down in this weird-ass

world out of nowhere, and -

"So find one. Or do you want to throw away this life just like you did your old one?"

Watch it. You have no idea how hard my old life was.

"Ryga. This was supposed to be your second chance. Don't waste it."

I'm not, damn it! I'm just... living.

No response. Ryga hated when he did that - dropped some depressing or existential

bullshit on him and then disappeared.

Maybe he had a point. Maybe he was throwing his second chance away.

But also no, because that made no fucking sense. He hadn't asked for a second chance,

hadn't been told what to do. How the hell could Dave not tell him what to do with himself and

then get mad at him for doing it wrong?

Second chance, my ass. You're just exactly like everyone from before.

No response, again. Which, okay, fair. That was kind of rude.

So... whatever. He would keep living. Dave couldn't stop him from living. Hopefully.

The sound was distant, and at first Ryga thought it was coming from his own head. Then

it rang out again, louder, and Ryga recognized it, recognized it from all the times it had issued

from his own throat. A scream.

Without thinking, without thinking that maybe he should think about this, Ryga was

running toward the source.

It didn't take him long to get there. He was already by the village gates. And once he was

there, it only took a second to identify.

The Fire Nation had arrived.

An all-too-familiar smug bastard with stupid sideburns stepped forward, the crowd

cowering back before him. "I take it you all know who I am. Now surrender the Avatar, or face

my wrath!"

Just Ryga's luck, too. He couldn't get Zuko, or even some relatively chill grunt. No, it just

had to be world-renowned jackass Admiral Zhao.

At least it was a misunderstanding and not a targeted manhunt or colonization mission.

"He's not here," Ryga shouted. "You got a fake tip, buddy."

Whispers of concern among the crowd. Ryga looked behind him to see them all stepping

back from him as Zhao stepped forward. "Really," he said. "Because I have a very clear

description of one who can bend both earth and water, and he's standing right in front of me."

"What?" Ryga tilted his head to the side, genuinely confused. As far as he could

remember, he'd only used Grassy Terrain. "Yeah, I'm an earthbender, but I can't -"

"Ryga. Remember the coffee incident?"

"What coffee incident?" Ryga interrupted himself to ask the sky. Murmurs of confusion

around him, which was fair. Probably shouldn't've said that out loud.

"When that one customer was getting on your nerves, so you -"

"Oh..." Ryga trailed off. "That coffee incident."

"- you used Brine and put filthy ocean water in his coffee -"

"Yeah, no, I get it, not my proudest moment -"

"- and you thought you were being slick but literally everyone in the store saw you do it -"

"Dude, I know, I fucked up."

"- and then he spat out the scalding salt coffee onto a small child -"

"Okay!" Ryga shouted, cutting Dave off. "Yeah, fair enough. I may or may not have been

seen doing something that could be perceived to be waterbending. You got me. But that was

just a prank!"

"...really." Zhao had recovered from the startled bewilderment Ryga's sudden sky

conversation had caused and was back to his same ol' smug expression. "The Avatar is using

his incredible power for petty pranks."

"Dude, no, I'm not the Avatar. I used this thing - it's like a little pouch with a nozzle, and

when you squeeze it water shoots out? I had it in my sleeve, and I guess somebody thought it

was waterbending when I used it, so, you know, fair." Ryga wasn't quite sure if what he was

describing actually existed, but it seemed plausible enough. "Point being, I am not the Avatar. I

mean, come on, do you see any sick waterbending tattoos on me?" He held up his arms and

turned around to demonstrate.

Zhao glowered, although thankfully, the glower did not seem to be directed at the village.

"Just a foolish child... those imbeciles will pay for their mistake." He turned around, began to

walk away - but not before issuing a final command to his men. "Burn it to ashes."

A battalion of firebenders lined up in formation. They reached their arms out, did the

weird ritual-y firebending moves.

"Ryga. You have the power to save these people from the mess you created. Are you

going to stand by and watch them burn?"

Ryga grinned wolfishly, stepped back into a fighting position. "Not a chance, Dave. Not a

chance."