Chapter 2: Southern Air Temple.

Michael woke up on the stone floor, but this time there were a few differences. For start, the sun shone happily on his face, warming his body. The floor was warm due to the heat of the star and therefore Michael hasn't tried to get up for a long time. He loved warm days, so he decided to just lie down for a while, looking at the cloudy blue sky.

The wind blew in his short hair, making him regret getting a haircut before he died. Well, he couldn't get back what he had lost, can he? With a heavy sigh, Michael sat up and looked around.

He sat at the beginning of a long stone path that led up a rather steep mountain. Several towers with blue roofs stood proudly in their places, only a few green trees complimented their appearance. One of the towers was partially hidden inside the mountain. On the side of this tower were several carved windows. But the most noticeable were the mountains and clouds surrounding this place.

Michael lifted his head up and finally noticed the tallest building here. It was a huge round tower with the same blue roof as the rest of them. A blue staircase descended along the wall, which, in Michael's humble opinion, was very fucking unsafe. But who he was to criticize whoever the hell built this monstrosity?

He blinked a couple of times, trying to get used to his now two eyes. Who would have thought that his returned depth perception could be a problem? It was strange and uncomfortable, but Michael could get used to everything. It's in his blood.

He absentmindedly caressed his right arm, now flesh and blood instead of metal and wires. That would take some time to get used to. Now that he could see better, he noticed that the place looked abandoned. Many of the stones in the walls were crumbled, the walls themselves were entangled with vines and moss. He thought that there should be about a hundred people living here, so where were they?

Suddenly a thought hit him like a train. 'Fuck, this is the Southern Air Temple!' He grinned broadly. This was the perfect place to start his journey. The temple where hundreds of Air Nomads lived, studied, and trained? Sign him up!

If his flunky memory didn't fail him, then the Fire Nation was unable to put their hands on the Airbending scrolls. It was also an almost unreachable mountain. If one didn't have a Flying Bison, then he would have to climb for a long time.

Here he could train his Bending all the time he wanted and no one could be able to interfere. Well, no one except the Avatar and his team, but Michael didn't know what time frame he was in, so maybe Aang was still trapped in the ice.

"Well, if that's the case, then fuck. I'll have to get out of here myself." Michael sighed and got to his feet. He decided to look around. If the ground next to Gyatso's corpse was damaged, then the Avatar has already announced his return to the world. If not… Well, Michael would have to climb down and hope that he wouldn't end up a bloody plump.

Michael lifted a black bag with his belongings from the floor and threw it over his right shoulder. It weighed a good twenty kilograms, but this was not a problem for him. He hummed. "Now I need a mirror. I want to know what changes Jasmine talked about. I hope that at least one Nomad loved himself enough to get a mirror. Or herself…" Pausing, Michael blinked. "Who the fuck am I talking to?"

Michael shook his head and began to climb the mountain. On his way, he met dozens of corpses - or bones - of both Air Nomads and soldiers of the Fire Nation. Weapons and armor lay around like rusty rubbish. Well, after a hundred years, it was unsurprising that they turned into rusty rubbish.

This made Michael frown, so much metal, and nobody used it. Well, he couldn't use it anyway, so why bother?

Approaching the main entrance, he was greeted by a statue of an old monk. How the wooden amulet around his neck still hadn't rotted away was a mystery, but that didn't bother Michael too much. He bowed respectfully to the statue and walked to the gate of the Temple.

'In Rome, do as the Romans do.' He mused and glanced around with interest. In front of the teenager was a huge metal door with symbols of Air Nomads carved into it. On either side of the door were two pipes that led to a mechanism that opened the passage to the room inside. All one had to do was use Airbending and send two strong jets of air in them. Something Michael didn't know how to do.

Well, it seemed like he was royally fucked. And it did bother him. A lot. So, he turned around and went to look for another entrance, trying not to step on a skull of some poor fellow. He didn't mind the corpses. He saw enough shit in his life when he was in a gang… What was its name again?

'These holes in my memories are annoying me.' Michael scowled. His eye twitched, but he kept walking. Reaching the tower, the one that was partially built inside the mountain, he tightened the strap of his bag. He didn't want to fall after it if it slipped off.

Michael grabbed the sharp ledge and began to climb. In his past life, he didn't have to climb mountains - at least he didn't think so - and it took long enough. In the middle of the way, he just started cursing under his breath. He heard somewhere that it helped to deal with pain. He didn't know who the hell decided it would be a good idea to explore such a topic, but they must have been touched on their heads.

When he got to the window, his palms began to ache from cuts and scratches. Michael pulled himself up on the ledge and sat down on the windowsill, his legs hanging down. There was a beautiful view here. The tall stone mountains were slightly covered in whimsy and curly clouds.

Trees were few on the sides, there was little vegetation on them, but it was still there. The birds still fluttered between the branches, chirping merrily, as if they weren't flying over a place of terrible carnage. 'Sick bastards.'

Well, now this view lost its attractiveness. Death and anguish hung over the Temple like a heavy cloud. Michael knew, the Air Nomads genocide was a terrible event, but seeing it with his own eyes was something else.

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For every dead Airbender, there were three or even four dead Fire Nation Soldiers. Oddly enough, the temple itself wasn't that damaged during the battle, but perhaps Michael have yet to reach the damaged parts.

His gaze slowly shifted from one body to another, and then Michael made a decision. These people fell protecting their home, their wards. They deserved a proper burial.

Michael slipped into the tower through the window and continued his exploration. He had already found one source of food - birds - so now he had to find a well or a river and some warm and dry place to sleep. He could simply drop his stuff into one of the rooms inside and be done with it. Of course, the main thing was that it couldn't be badly damaged. Michael really would like to avoid getting squished with a piece of ceiling. Something told him that it was very unpleasant.

"Fucking Nomads and their minimalism." He muttered, walking deeper into the tower. On his way, he found some more corpses in the corridors, which strengthened his desire to bury these people. This place would become his home for the near future and he did not want to constantly step over corpses and weapons.

'How the fuck did Aang miss this? There are hundreds of them. Oh, right, he flew here during winter and went straight to the 'cool Avatar room,' my mistake.' After a couple of hours of wandering, Michael decided to urgently study Airbending. Half of the rooms were impossible to reach without it.

He chose one of the students' rooms for himself and put the tent along with the blanket on the bed. His back would kill him if he slept on a bare rock. It was amazing that the mattress didn't rot. What the hell were they made of? There were no synthetic fabrics in this world. So what – no, he didn't really want to get stuck thinking about it.

Taking out a first aid kit, Michael disinfected his cuts. He would have to find a replacement for the antiseptic before it ran out, he mused and bandaged his hand. After a little thought, he decided that he would need a lot of antiseptic in the future.

Having closed the windows and doors so no animal would steal his things, Michael went to look for training grounds. He took only a few knives with him, which he hid in his clothes. Cigarettes, and a lighter also joined him on this walk.

Fortunately, the practice grounds were close to the apartment complex – will, if you could even call it that – so Michael didn't have to cross half the mountain to get there. He decided to try to recall everything he knew about the Benders and how they used their styles.

Bending was the ability to manipulate an element and was significant to many aspects of life in the world. There were five known bending arts; four of them bend a specific physical element while the fifth Bends the energy within the human body itself. The only known case of a single person being able to bend multiple elements was the Avatar, who could practice all five bending arts.

'Well,' Michael snorted, 'not anymore.'

The four Elemental Bending Arts were based on the four classical elements – water, earth, fire, and air, each being manipulated through certain martial art styles that were reminiscent of the qualities of the element itself. Bending was traditionally performed through the motions of one's hands and feet, but certain benders were able to effectively manipulate their element with only minimal movement of their body, such as by using just their head or torso. In even rarer cases, Benders could perform their Bending without the aid of any physical movement at all, by instead using only focus and force of will, a skill known as Psychic Bending.

So, his goal was clear – he had to teach himself Psychic Bending. It would definitely be a pain in the ass, but then again, Michael could get used to everything.

Each element was associated with a particular nation in the world; the Water Tribe corresponded with Waterbending, the Earth Kingdom with Earthbending, the Fire Nation with Firebending, and the Air Nomads with Airbending. However, other bending affiliated groups exist, such as the Foggy Swamp Tribe for Waterbending and the Sun Warriors for Firebending.

The fifth Bending art, Energy Bending, was unlike the other four in that little physical action was required to direct the bending itself. The four Elemental Bending Arts were all dependent on the energy, or Chi, within the human body, relying on its flow through the body to manipulate a specific element. A person could bend when they extended the influence of their Chi beyond the body to interact with environment. Energy Bending, on the other hand, was concerned with the manipulation of the energy itself and could remove or grant bending abilities.

There were also different Substyles to remember for the future. Icebending and Plantbending were a couple of them. Michael didn't remember the Airbending Sub-Styles, but he knew they were very fucking hard to learn. However, he, a human from a world more advanced than this, might have thought of a couple of uses for air. Sound binding and Vacuum Bending were just some of the possibilities.

'Baby steps, Michael, baby steps. You can't do all of this right now even if you want to.' Michael sighed and rubbed his forehead. 'I have at least autumn and winter before the Avatar arrives. Well, if he even wakes up this winter…'

In the original story, Aang woke up after a hundred years of sleeping in an iceberg. If he had not entered the Avatar State, then he was fucked. With the combination of Fire, Air, and Water Chi he managed to keep his body in good shape all this time.

"Not that I can do anything about it." Michael muttered and cracked his neck. Since he didn't even know the basics of Bending, he had to figure it out on his own. On the one hand, this path would be full of mistakes, but on the other hand, it would be free of all those stereotypical and traditional moves that have been used for centuries.

Michael raised his hand and concentrated, trying to command the wind. After ten minutes, nothing happened. Thirty minutes later, the air around him stopped completely as if mocking him. And only an hour later, Michael realized his problem.

He tried to use Bending without moving. And that was theoretically impossible. His eye twitched. Maybe it was damaged or something. Michael sighed. “Fuck." His journey began with a dumb decision. Well, no one said that he never made mistakes.

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