𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 | 𝐓𝐥𝐨𝐊

XVII

Snow.

Small white flakes, light as winter sighs, drifted through the air before settling softly on the ground. Earlier that week, Republic City had woken to the first signs of winter. Frost clung to rooftops, trees, and streets, wrapping the city in a pale, shimmering veil. The sudden chill had driven its people to dig out their warmest coats from the back of their closets.

It was still very early. The sun had yet to rise, and the streets lay mostly empty, save for a few shopkeepers braving the cold to lift their shutters. Somewhere above, the caw of birds broke the silence as they swept across the chilly sky.

At the center of the city, in the training yard of the Police Station, snow stretched across the ground like a white shroud. The air bit at every lungful breath, turning exhalations into mist. Rows of soldiers stood ready, gray armor glinting under lantern light, visors lowered, boots planted firmly in the frost. Their silence carried weight-- disciplined, waiting.

Lin Beifong paced with measured steps at the far end, her hands clasped neatly behind her back. Her gaze, sharp as the metal they bent, followed every line of soldiers.

"Positions!" Saikhan's voice boomed across the courtyard. The man stood at the front, broad and immovable, eyes like steel as they scanned the ranks.

In unison, the soldiers stomped their right feet against the floor. The ground shuddered. With a grinding roar, stone plates erupted upward, jagged as thorns. The cold made the metal of their armor creak and groan, but no one wavered.

Lin's voice cut through the air, cold as the morning itself. "Remember this: the cold is no excuse. If you tremble, the enemy trembles less."

A shrill whistle followed. The earth shifted beneath their feet, stone columns bursting from the ground in unpredictable rhythm. Some spun, others toppled, crashing down like hammers. Soldiers moved fast, weaving through the chaos—leaping, sliding, bracing themselves against the ice-slick metal. Each motion demanded precision, and every misstep was punished by the relentless terrain.

On the other side of the field, a group of soldiers created defensive barriers and improvised land passages. They shaped the ground as if it were liquid, building temporary ramps and stairways for their companions to climb or cross the treacherous terrain. Their metal boots cracked under the cold, demanding care and precision in every movement they made.

One of the recruits hesitated before climbing an earth wall, his steps hastily raised by a colleague. Lin's sharp eyes caught the pause, and her brow furrowed.

"In the field, a single second of doubt will cost you dearly," she said-- not shouting, but in a low, clipped voice that carried across the training yard. The weight of her words pressed on everyone present.

The recruit drew a deep breath, adjusted his stance to match the slope, and managed to climb to the top. There, another soldier launched a metal cable across an improvised frozen stream, securing a path for those following behind.

At the start of every winter season, Beifong subjected her soldiers to long, grueling hours of extreme training. The Chief of Police commanded the entire establishment with an iron fist-- even more so her elite squad-- just as her mother, Toph Beifong, had before her. With the support of her right-hand man and assistant chief, Saikhan, she evaluated the performance of every soldier-- recruits and veterans alike.

For the veterans, this was routine, another test in a long series of tests they had already endured. They were hardened, accustomed to the punishing drills demanded of them. But for the recruits-- who trembled faintly in their armor, nerves tight under the unyielding gaze of Lin Beifong-- this was the final trial. The one who would decide whether they were worthy of joining the Metalbending Forces or not.