Barbara's POV
Dawn arrived with a different rhythm today - not the ceremonial gongs of the palace, but the distant sounds of a military encampment stirring to life.
We had departed the capital before first light, traveling in an ornate war balloon emblazoned with the Fire Nation insignia.
Now we hovered above what had once been an Earth Kingdom province, transformed by Fire Nation occupation.
From this height, the changes were starkly visible. Earth Kingdom structures of stone and wood stood alongside newer Fire Nation buildings of metal and brick.
Red banners hung from every significant structure, and soldiers in Fire Nation armor patrolled the streets in disciplined formations.
"This province fell two years ago," Azula explained as we descended toward a military outpost at the settlement's edge. "It serves as a model for our integration approach."
I studied her as she spoke, noting the careful precision of her movements, the absolute control in her posture.
There was something fascinating about Azula - her calculating intelligence, her ruthless efficiency, her unwavering belief in her nation's supremacy.
In another context, I might have admired these qualities. Here, witnessing their application to conquest and subjugation, my feelings were considerably more complex.
My mind cataloged everything I observed. The strategic positioning of Fire Nation structures at key intersections, overlooking the original Earth Kingdom buildings.
The careful segregation of populations, visible even from our aerial perspective. The watchtowers positioned at regular intervals along the settlement's perimeter.
"The architecture tells a story," I observed, unable to contain my analysis. "Fire Nation structures at key intersections, overlooking the original Earth Kingdom buildings. Spatial dominance as political statement."
Azula's eyebrow raised slightly, her amber eyes assessing me with new interest. "Precisely. Control of sight lines is essential to effective governance. Our buildings are positioned to maximize surveillance while demonstrating technological superiority."
Her response confirmed my analysis while revealing her own perspective - control and dominance as fundamental principles of governance, not just incidental outcomes.
I filed this insight away, building my understanding of Fire Nation colonial philosophy.
The balloon touched down in a courtyard where a contingent of Fire Nation officers waited at attention.
The moment we stepped onto the platform, they dropped to their knees in unison, foreheads touching the ground. The religious effect of our cover story had clearly spread beyond the capital.
"Word of your divine presence has preceded you," Azula noted with satisfaction, glancing at Samael. "The colonial governor awaits your blessing."
Samael nodded, maintaining the regal bearing expected of a deity. I watched him slip effortlessly into this role - his natural dignity and commanding presence making the divine persona surprisingly convincing.
The ease with which he adapted to each new situation continued to impress me, even as I wondered about the ethical implications of accepting religious veneration, however strategically useful it might be.
A middle-aged man in elaborate administrative robes approached, prostrating himself before rising at Azula's gesture. "Divine Agni, Princess Azula - you honor our humble colony with your presence.
I am Governor Ukano, appointed by Fire Lord Ozai to oversee this region's integration into the glory of the Fire Nation."
"Rise, Governor," Samael instructed, his voice carrying that formal, slightly resonant quality he'd developed for these interactions. "We have come to observe your administration of these territories."
"Of course, Divine One," Ukano replied, his eyes darting nervously between Azula and Samael. "We have prepared a comprehensive tour of our integration initiatives."
As we moved through the settlement, the colonial dynamics became increasingly apparent. Fire Nation citizens occupied the central district, living in newly constructed homes with modern amenities.
Earth Kingdom natives were relegated to the periphery, their traditional stone houses now overshadowed by metal watchtowers.
I maintained a carefully neutral expression despite the obvious segregation we were witnessing.
But internally, my mind was racing - analyzing patterns, drawing comparisons to colonial systems from our own world's history, noting both similarities and differences.
This was precisely what I had come to understand - not just abstract theories of justice, but their practical implementation in a different cultural context.
"The original inhabitants have adapted well to Fire Nation guidance," Governor Ukano explained as we passed a group of Earth Kingdom citizens working under the supervision of Fire Nation overseers.
"Those who demonstrate loyalty are granted increasing privileges."
"And those who don't?" I asked, keeping my voice deceptively casual while watching his reaction closely.
The governor hesitated, glancing at Azula before answering. "Those who resist integration are provided additional... education... until they understand the benefits of Fire Nation rule."
The euphemism was transparent, but I wanted to see exactly what this "education" entailed. Before I could ask, Samael spoke.
"Show us this education," he instructed, his tone making clear this wasn't a request.
Another uncomfortable glance passed between Ukano and Azula before the governor nodded. "As you wish, Divine One."
He led us to a large building near the settlement's edge, its windows barred and its entrance guarded by soldiers.
Inside, rows of Earth Kingdom citizens sat in classroom-like settings, listening to Fire Nation instructors lecture on the "greatness and benevolence of Fire Lord Ozai."
"Our cultural reeducation program," Ukano explained proudly. "Those who demonstrate resistance to integration spend time here learning proper appreciation for Fire Nation values."
I felt my fists clench involuntarily as I took in the vacant expressions of many "students," the visible exhaustion on their faces, the subtle signs of physical coercion visible in their posture and movements.
This wasn't education - it was indoctrination through intimidation, possibly torture.
"How long do they typically spend in... reeducation?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady.
"Until they demonstrate proper understanding," Ukano replied vaguely. "Some grasp the lessons quickly. Others require more... intensive instruction."
I forced my hands to relax, my legal training and years as the Commissioner's daughter helping me maintain my composure despite my growing anger.
This was a test of my ability to work within a system I found morally repugnant in order to potentially influence it - exactly the philosophical question I'd been wrestling with since the Joker's death.
"And the children?" I asked, noting several young faces among the adult "students."
"The younger generation adapts most readily to Fire Nation culture," Azula interjected smoothly. "They represent the future of a unified world under Fire Nation guidance."
The implication was clear - start with the children, separate them from their cultural heritage, reshape them according to Fire Nation values.
A strategy employed by colonizing powers throughout our own world's history, with devastating generational consequences.
As we continued our tour, the pattern became clear. The colony functioned through a careful balance of incentives for cooperation and punishments for resistance.
Earth Kingdom citizens who demonstrated loyalty received better housing, food rations, and work assignments. Those who resisted faced "reeducation" or worse.
"Our greatest success has been the economic integration," Ukano explained as we walked through a marketplace where Earth Kingdom merchants sold their goods under Fire Nation supervision.
"Local resources now serve the greater Fire Nation economy, creating prosperity for all."
"All?" I questioned, gesturing toward Earth Kingdom citizens whose thin frames and worn clothing suggested otherwise.
"Those who contribute meaningfully to the new order prosper accordingly," Ukano clarified, his tone suggesting this was perfectly reasonable. "Effort and loyalty are rewarded."
I continued asking pointed questions throughout the tour, using my background in legal systems and governance to probe the colonial administration's approach.
With each response, I built a clearer picture of how the Fire Nation justified and implemented its colonial project - the philosophies underlying their actions, the systems they had created to maintain control, the narratives they used to rationalize oppression.
"What legal recourse do Earth Kingdom citizens have if they feel mistreated by Fire Nation authorities?" I asked as we observed a dispute being settled by Fire Nation soldiers.
The governor seemed confused by the question. "The Fire Nation authorities determine justice. Why would there be need for recourse?"
"In case of error or abuse of power," I pressed. "All systems require checks and balances."
Ukano looked to Azula, clearly uncertain how to respond to this foreign concept. Azula's expression remained neutral, though I detected a flicker of genuine consideration in her eyes.
"An interesting perspective," she said finally. "Perhaps worth examining for efficiency purposes.
Unchecked authority can sometimes lead to... excesses... that damage productivity."
Her framing fascinated me - taking a moral concern about justice and recasting it in terms of pragmatic efficiency.
It wasn't compassion that motivated her consideration of my point, but cold calculation about optimal resource management.
And yet, if implemented, such checks and balances would still improve conditions for Earth Kingdom citizens, regardless of the motivation behind them.
This was the exact paradox I was exploring - could working within an unjust system's own logic achieve more concrete good than moral condemnation from outside?
As midday approached, we were escorted to the governor's residence for a formal meal. The contrast between the luxurious setting and the conditions we had observed in the Earth Kingdom quarter was stark.
"The integration continues to progress ahead of schedule," Ukano reported proudly as servants - all Earth Kingdom natives in Fire Nation livery - presented elaborate dishes.
"This province now contributes significant resources to the Fire Nation's war effort."
"And what of resistance?" Azula inquired, her tone making clear that honesty was expected.
Ukano's expression tightened slightly. "Minimal within the settlement itself. The countryside still harbors some... disruptive elements. Earth Kingdom loyalists who refuse to accept the new reality."
"Rebels," Azula clarified, her voice cool. "Who continue to attack our supply lines and harass loyal citizens."
"Yes, Princess," Ukano confirmed. "Though our forces are steadily reducing their numbers."
I glanced at Samael across the table, a silent question in my eyes: Were these "rebels" simply Earth Kingdom citizens fighting for their freedom, recast as criminals by the occupying power?
His subtle nod confirmed my suspicion.
"I would like to see how you handle these resistance elements," Samael stated, his divine persona giving the request the weight of command.
A moment of uncomfortable silence followed. Ukano again looked to Azula, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
"We have scheduled an... enforcement action... for this afternoon," the governor said carefully.
"A rebel encampment has been identified in the hills to the east. If the Divine One wishes to observe our methods..."
"We do," Samael confirmed, and I felt a flutter of apprehension.
After the meal, we boarded smaller war balloons and headed toward the hills beyond the settlement. I positioned myself beside Samael at the railing, speaking quietly enough that only he could hear.
"I'm not sure I'm prepared for what we're about to see," I admitted, my voice steady despite the concern I felt. "This isn't just academic anymore."
"This is the reality of conquest," he replied softly. "The part that imperial powers typically hide from view. If you truly want to understand different approaches to justice, this is an essential piece."
I nodded, my jaw set with determination. "I know. That's why I'm not asking to leave. I just... need to be prepared."
He placed his hand briefly over mine on the railing - a small gesture of support that didn't escape Azula's notice from across the balloon's platform.
The "rebel encampment" proved to be little more than a collection of crude shelters in a wooded valley.
From our vantage point above, I could see perhaps twenty people, including several children.
They appeared to be refugees rather than organized resistance fighters, though a few carried the weapons of Earth Kingdom soldiers.
"Confirmed rebel location," the balloon's captain reported. "Awaiting orders."
Azula stepped forward, her expression coldly efficient. "Standard protocol. Warning shot, then full suppression if they fail to surrender."
A fireball launched from the balloon's forward platform, exploding in the air above the encampment.
The people below scattered in panic, some running for the trees while others - particularly those with weapons - took defensive positions.
"They're choosing resistance," Azula observed dispassionately. "Proceed with suppression."
The captain nodded, raising his hand to signal the attack. In that moment, something crystallized within me - the abstract philosophical questions I'd been wrestling with suddenly confronted with the imminent deaths of innocent people, including children.
"Wait," I said, my voice cutting through the tension with unexpected authority. "Those are civilians down there. Children."
All eyes turned to me, then to Samael - waiting to see how the "divine consort's" intervention would be received by her deity.
I held my breath, aware I had overstepped my role but unable to remain silent in the face of imminent slaughter.
If this damaged our cover, so be it. Some lines couldn't be crossed, even for strategic purposes.
"My consort speaks wisdom," Samael declared, "There is no honor or efficiency in destroying those who pose no true threat.
The children, particularly, represent future citizens if properly integrated."
Relief flooded through me, though I maintained my composed exterior.
Samael had not only supported my intervention but framed it in terms the Fire Nation would understand - efficiency and future resource management rather than moral objections they would dismiss.
Azula's eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't contradict him directly. "What would you suggest, Divine One?"
"Offer genuine terms," he replied. "Safe passage to the settlement, integration with basic dignities preserved.
Those who have fought against the Fire Nation may face consequences, but proportional to their actions, not extermination."
The colonial officials looked uncertain, this approach clearly deviating from standard protocol. But Samael's divine status gave the suggestion weight they couldn't easily dismiss.
"An... interesting approach," Azula said carefully. "Perhaps a test case for alternative integration methods."
She turned to the captain. "Send a messenger. Offer terms as... Agni... has suggested. We will evaluate the effectiveness of this approach."
I felt a surge of profound satisfaction. We had just saved lives - real people who would wake up tomorrow because of our intervention.
And we had done it not by condemning the Fire Nation's colonial project from outside, but by working within its logic to achieve a more humane outcome.
What followed was a tense negotiation. A Fire Nation officer descended to the encampment under a flag of truce, conveying the offer.
The refugees discussed among themselves, clearly suspicious but also aware of their precarious position.
Eventually, most agreed to return to the settlement under the promised protections. A few - mostly former Earth Kingdom soldiers - refused, disappearing into the forest instead.
"A partial success," Azula assessed as we watched the refugees being escorted toward the settlement. "Though those who fled will likely join other resistance groups."
"But seventeen lives preserved," I pointed out quietly. "Including five children who now have a future."
Azula studied me with renewed interest. "You count success differently than we typically do."
"I measure it in lives preserved and potential realized," I replied, carefully framing my moral concern in terms she would find compelling.
"Dead citizens contribute nothing. Living ones, even initially reluctant, can eventually become productive members of society."
It wasn't how I would have articulated my moral objection in another context, but it achieved the desired result - saving lives by speaking a language the system could understand.
This was the essence of what I was discovering: effective moral action sometimes required strategic engagement with flawed systems rather than principled rejection of them.
As we returned to the settlement, I noticed Azula watching me with increasing calculation.
The princess was clearly reassessing me, recognizing a mind that matched her own in strategic thinking, if not in moral framework.
"Your companion has unusual perspectives for someone from the spirit world," I overheard her saying to Samael when I was briefly engaged with Governor Ukano. "Her understanding of practical governance is... sophisticated."
"Barbara comes from a world of complex systems," Samael replied carefully. "Her father is a justice administrator there."
"I see," Azula said, though her tone suggested she sensed there was more to the story. "Her insights are proving unexpectedly valuable.
Perhaps we should include her more directly in tomorrow's administrative reviews."
By evening, we had returned to the governor's residence for a formal dinner with local officials. The day's events had clearly created a stir among the colonial administration.
Word of the "divine intervention" that had spared the refugee camp had spread, creating yet another layer to our increasingly complex religious cover.
"Divine Agni shows us a new path of integration," one official declared during a toast. "Mercy as efficiency, compassion as strategy."
When we finally retired to our assigned quarters in the governor's residence, I waited until the door closed behind us before letting my carefully maintained composure crack.
"This is worse than I imagined," I said, my voice tight with controlled anger as I paced the room. "The 'reeducation' centers, the segregation, the casual way they were going to massacre those refugees... it's colonialism at its worst."
"Yes," Samael agreed simply, watching me with those penetrating red eyes that are always so beautiful to get lost into. "Though your intervention saved lives today."
I stopped pacing, turning to face him. "By working within their value system. By framing basic human decency as 'efficiency' and 'resource management.' Is that really a victory, Samael?
Or am I just becoming complicit in their system by finding more palatable ways to implement it?"
The question wasn't rhetorical - it cut to the heart of the philosophical dilemma I'd been wrestling with since the Joker's death.
When is working within a flawed system justified? When does it become moral compromise?
"Those children who will wake up tomorrow because of your intervention would probably consider it a victory," he pointed out gently.
I sank onto a cushioned bench, the weight of the day's events finally catching up with me. "I know. And that's what makes this so complicated.
By engaging with their system, I might be able to save more lives, improve more conditions... but I'm also tacitly accepting the framework of conquest and occupation."
As I spoke, a realization began to crystallize - something I'd been approaching throughout the day's experiences but hadn't fully articulated until this moment.
"But there's a third option, isn't there?" I said slowly, the pieces falling into place in my mind. "It's not just about accepting their system or rejecting it entirely. It's about strategic engagement now while building toward something better when the opportunity arises."
Samael's expression showed interest, though he remained silent, allowing me to develop my thought.
"Working within a system doesn't mean accepting it as permanent or immutable," I continued, the idea gaining clarity as I spoke.
"It can be a transitional approach - improving what can be improved now, while building toward more fundamental change when conditions allow."
I stood again, energized by this new understanding. "That's what we did today - we saved seventeen lives by working within their framework.
That's a real, concrete good. But it doesn't mean we've accepted their colonial project as just or permanent."
"And if you had the power to replace their system entirely?" Samael asked, his tone neutral but his eyes intent.
The question struck me with unexpected force. What if I did have that power? What if I could replace unjust systems with something better?
"I would," I said, surprised by my own certainty. "Not just reform it, but replace it entirely with something that actually serves justice rather than power.
A system that protects the vulnerable rather than exploiting them. That ensures genuine equality rather than hierarchical control."
As the words left my mouth, I realized how far my thinking had evolved since the night at the Monarch Theater.
I had moved beyond questioning whether my action against the Joker was justified to considering the fundamental transformation of the systems that had made such individual action necessary.
"But that would require tremendous power and influence," I added, thinking aloud. "The ability to not just work within existing frameworks but to reshape them entirely when they've proven inadequate."
And suddenly, I was looking at Samael with new eyes - seeing not just the brilliant mind I'd fallen in love with, but the transformative potential he represented.
The Ultimatrix that could harness powers rivaling Superman's. The dimensional technology that had brought us to this world.
The strategic mind that navigated complex systems with such precision.
He had the potential to change everything.
To create something better than the patchwork of compromised institutions and half-measures that had repeatedly failed to contain threats like the Joker.
A system that wouldn't require individuals to make impossible choices between formal rules and substantive justice.
The perfect system.
The realization sent a thrill through me - part excitement, part trepidation. This wasn't just about improving flawed systems from within or making occasional exceptions when they failed.
It was about the ultimate goal - the creation of something better, something that truly served justice rather than just maintaining order.
"You could do it," I said softly, the words emerging with absolute conviction. "With your mind, your technology, your strategic approach - you could create something better than what we have.
A system that actually works, that delivers real justice rather than just the appearance of it."
Samael's expression remained carefully neutral, but something flickered in his eyes - recognition, perhaps, that I had glimpsed something he hadn't yet revealed.
"And if I could?" he asked, his voice equally soft. "What would that mean for us?"
The question wasn't just about capability but about partnership - about whether I would support such a fundamental transformation, with all its implications and potential costs.
"I would stand with you," I said without hesitation, surprised by my own certainty yet knowing it was absolute truth.
"Every step of the way. Not just for you, but because it's necessary. Because I've seen what happens when systems fail those they're meant to protect."
The Joker's face flashed in my mind - his eternal grin, his casual cruelty, his repeated escapes from a justice system that couldn't contain him.
The impossible choice I'd faced at the Monarch Theater because our systems had failed so completely.
"No one should have to make the choice I did," I continued, my voice gaining strength. "No system should repeatedly fail to protect innocent people from those who would harm them.
And if creating something better requires stepping outside conventional boundaries, then that's what we do."
I moved closer to him, feeling a surge of determination unlike anything I'd experienced before. "I killed once to protect you. I would do far more to help you build something better than what we have."
The words should have frightened me - this willingness to step outside conventional moral boundaries for a larger purpose.
The Commissioner's daughter, raised on strict principles of legal procedure and due process, now contemplating systemic transformation by any means necessary.
But instead, it brought a sense of clarity, of purpose that had been missing in my carefully structured life before meeting Samael.
"We start by working within existing systems, doing what good we can, building influence and support," I said, the strategy forming with surprising clarity.
"And when the moment is right, when we have sufficient position and capability, we create something better. Something just. Something perfect."
Samael studied me for a long moment, then reached out to draw me into his arms. "You continue to surprise me, Barbara Gordon," he said softly.
"Your mind, your courage, your clarity of purpose."
I leaned into his embrace, feeling a profound connection that went beyond our initial attraction or even our growing love.
We were partners in something larger than ourselves - a vision that transcended everything conventional.
"Tomorrow will bring more challenges," he said as we prepared for sleep. "The administrative reviews will show us how the Fire Nation manages its colonies at a systemic level."
"I'll be ready," I replied with quiet determination. "And I'll continue finding ways to improve conditions within their framework, while learning what a truly just alternative might look like."
As we settled into the governor's guest chamber, my mind continued to race with new understanding.
Today had been transformative - not just in saving seventeen lives, but in clarifying my own vision of justice and my role in creating it.
Working within flawed systems to achieve immediate good while building toward fundamental transformation when the moment was right.
And standing beside Samael when that transformation became possible, supporting his vision with my unwavering commitment.
I curled against him in the darkness, feeling his arm tighten protectively around me.
Whatever challenges tomorrow brought, whatever complications arose from our increasingly complex roles in this world, one thing remained certain: we would face them together.
And when we returned to our own world, we would begin the real work - the gradual, strategic transformation of flawed systems into something better.
Something truly just. Something truly perfect.
With that thought, I finally surrendered to sleep, dreams of potential futures beginning to bloom within my slumbering mind.
Futures worth any sacrifice, any compromise, any action necessary to bring them into being.
A future with him - one where we will always be together, never betraying one another as we create the perfect world.
Yes, the perfect world - one where I can be his wife, him my husband, where we can have four kids and never fear a madman like that clown ever threatening them.
A perfect paradise...
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter!
Do tell me how you found it.
Especially Barbara's shift in worldview - I hope I made it organic and natural.
See, you guys probably guessed it, but this is also the foundational work for the Harem Tag's existence.
Something I realised after contemplating why so many of us - me most of the time included, hate harems is because of how stupid it is. How pokemon-esc it is where it is just lust as drive and well, I don't like that.
If someone is gonna have multiple women have the decency of treating them all with love and respect.
Besides that, the most difficult part of a harem building I realised is always the first girl. So long as the first girl accepts, any other girl must accept it if they wish to enter the relationship, since they are the one essentially in some ways intruding.
They either accept or don't and then they leave.
And Barbara is that first girl.
So yeah, I hope you guys enjoyed and I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)