John Wick in Avatar the Last Airbender

John's journey had been relentless. He had flown through the numbing cold of the Southern regions, where the winds cut like knives against his skin. The icy air stung his exposed face, but he pushed on, soaring ever higher, slicing through the clouds like an arrow.

The world below blurred into a vast, white emptiness before giving way to the Earth Kingdom's endless green. The warmth of the land was a stark contrast to the South, and for a fleeting moment, it felt comforting; almost familiar.

But comfort had no place in his heart.

He kept flying. He flew past mountains that touched the heavens and rivers that carved through the land like veins, past the wall of the Earth Kingdom villages and cities, where war brewed beneath its peaceful facade, and past the empty, desolate battlefields where the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom clashed like raging titans.

And then, the desert. The Si Wong Desert stretched beneath him, a sea of golden sand, its dunes shifting and rolling like waves frozen in time. The sun bore down with unrelenting fury, and the wind whipped sand into the air, blinding and hot.

The air here was treacherous; unsteady, unpredictable. The further he flew, the more the vast emptiness pressed in on him. Here, there was no shelter, no water, no mercy. The desert did not forgive, and it did not forget.

He had flown in wide, searching arcs, exhaustion creeping into his limbs, the air growing heavier with every passing moment. His mind, however, remained sharp. He knew what he was searching for; an ancient structure buried beneath the sands, a vault of wisdom older than most civilizations.

And then, at last, he saw it.

A lone tower pierced through the dunes, its top half protruding from the shifting sands. The structure was weathered, eroded by centuries of desert storms, but it still stood defiant against time itself.

Wan Shi Tong's Library.

John descended, his boots sinking into the hot, unstable ground as he approached the entrance. It was just barely exposed, a narrow opening where the sand had yet to swallow it completely. He did not hesitate. He ducked inside, vanishing into the depths of knowledge long forgotten.

…

The air was cooler inside. Dim light flickered from glowing orbs embedded in the walls, casting long shadows over towering shelves. The scent of ancient parchment and ink filled the space, thick and heavy with the weight of history.

Scrolls, tomes, and tablets lined the vast corridors, some so old that even touching them might cause them to crumble to dust. The silence here was different from the one outside. It was not the hollow quiet of the desert but a sacred stillness, as if even time itself dared not disturb this place.

John walked carefully; his steps soundless against the stone floor. He had read of this place before; how it housed the knowledge of the world, guarded by a spirit who had existed for thousands of years. But reading about it and being here were two different things. Then, something moved.

A towering figure emerged from the shadows. John stopped. Two piercing eyes, deep and unreadable, stared down at him from above. The massive owl, feathers a mix of white and brown, spread his wings slightly, his sheer presence sending a wave of unease through the air.

This was no ordinary spirit; this was a being who had lived beyond the rise and fall of countless empires, a watcher of history itself.

"I am Wan Shi Tong, He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things," the owl intoned, his voice both soft and powerful, a whisper that echoed like thunder.

John straightened, bowing slightly out of respect, "Great Spirit," he said, his voice even, "I come seeking knowledge."

Wan Shi Tong's gaze did not waver, "That is what all who enter this place seek. And yet, few understand the burden of knowledge. Humans have a tendency to twist wisdom into a weapon."

His tone was neither welcoming nor hostile; simply watchful, almost wary.

John met the spirit's gaze, unshaken, "I do not seek war, nor do I seek power. I seek survival; for my people, for those who have been hunted and slaughtered. Knowledge is the only thing that can keep them safe."

Wan Shi Tong's wings rustled, his golden eyes narrowing slightly, "A familiar sentiment. One I have heard before…" his voice carried the weight of centuries, "And what knowledge do you seek, Air Nomad?"

"I need a place," John said, carefully choosing his words, "A place hidden from the Fire Nation's eyes. A place where my people can live without fear."

The great owl blinked slowly, "And what knowledge do you offer in return?"

John paused for a moment. This had not been in the scroll, if merely explained there was a spirit guarding the library which held immense knowledge.

Then he reached into his satchel, pulling out a rolled parchment. He unfurled it with practiced ease; a hand-drawn map, meticulously detailed, marking shifting borders, newly established Fire Nation outposts, hidden paths across the Earth Kingdom, and places unknown even to many scholars.

"A map of the world as it stands now," John said, "The movements of armies, the paths of refugees, the changing lands."

He met the spirit's gaze, "This knowledge is fleeting, yes, but it is a reflection of the world at this moment. A truth not yet recorded."

Wan Shi Tong studied the map, his large eyes scanning its details. For a long moment, he was silent. Then, he hummed; a sound deep and contemplative, "A curious offering," the spirit said at last, "Ephemeral, yet valuable. You understand the nature of knowledge, Air Nomad. And so, I shall grant you access."

The air shifted. The towering shelves of the library seemed to stretch endlessly before him, paths unfolding like a maze of wisdom waiting to be uncovered.

"Seek carefully," Wan Shi Tong warned, "For knowledge is a double-edged sword."

John exhaled, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly, "Thank you," he said, stepping forward into the depths of history.