The last emotion Yun felt was grief- grief that threatened to drown him. It terrified him, threatening to overtake his body, soul and mind. It was more overwhelming than anything he had faced in all seventeen years- more than growing up alone, more being bred into the perfect Avatar. It hurt more than the truth did all that time ago, and that was saying a lot. That truth had caused him to do awful, terrible things, terrible things he never even thought of regretting until this moment.

But when he looked into Kyoshi’s eyes, he couldn’t help but regret, at least for one moment. If it was not regret it was grief- he had lost so much, he had lost what he never knew he was lacking. It was terrifying. If he had the time, he would’ve wept. He didn’t have the time. He didn’t have much time left.

He wasn’t expecting things to have gone the way they did, but that wasn’t the point. Here they were now- lost and broken and alone. It was them again- the three of them, here. Rangi, Kyoshi and him in their home just like it used to be. A false hope at an impossible return. He and Kyoshi both knew things could never be as they were before, not with all that had happened between them.

At that moment it struck Yun that it was over. It was all and truly over. In the fury of battle he had stabbed Rangi through the chest- a motion so clean and effortless, so fatal if not properly treated. It surprised him how easily he had done it, murdering his former best friend. He was getting too good at murder these days.

There was no way Kyoshi could forgive him for that- he saw the way the two girls looked at each other, even before… before it all. They shared something Yun could only long for, they had become each other’s family, each other's light. He had traded what light he had for a gaping pit of darkness. He wondered if he truly had any, if circumstance had simply sucked it all out of him. It was over, and Yin had lost.

He said words he didn’t comprehend, Kyoshi replied with meaningless nothing. He knew she was lying but it didn’t truly matter. Nothing mattered now, he was expecting everything and anything but not this. It hurt so much to have to do this, but he had no other choice.

At the end, Yun found himself on his knees, near his once-beloved friend, his almost lover. Weary and worn, he fell to his knees and for a brief moment he allowed himself to weap in what time he had left, though it only amounted to brief tears trailing down his face.

Kyoshi placed her hand on his chest, to his heart. A gesture of childhood love from a happier time, it was if they could forget the very world falling apart around them.

The last sensation Yun truly felt was cold- bitter and aching and painful cold in his chest and spreading through his lungs. In all his years he had never felt anything like it. He was sure the moment lasted only seconds for Kyoshi, but for Yun it could’ve been an eternity. He was, so to speak, frozen in time.

Yun was surprised that Kyoshi had chosen to kill him so mercifully. She had all the elements at her disposal, thousands of ways to make him pay for everything he had done to her and those she loved. For some reason, he got the sense she was not angry with him, only sorry that things had turned out the way they did. He supposed he was, too. It was over. Everything was over, and at least for now, Yun would not have to ache anymore. He could let his weary soul rest and drift gently into an endless sleep.

Yun did not dream as he drifted into death’s embrace, and for that he was thankful. He did not want to know the world anymore, he had seen enough of it to make him weary of it already.