She stepped back, retreating into the periphery, her mission of interrogation complete.
At that moment, the roar of the crowd surged again, reaching a deafening, primal crescendo. Someone near the plaza's edge had scrambled atop a jagged hunk of fallen masonry, pumping a fist and leading a new chant, reigniting the fever of the people.
The Avatar reacted with seamless grace. He raised one hand to acknowledge the masses, performing the specific, modest wave that Rex used when he was accepting recognition he considered slightly excessive but accepted nonetheless because to refuse it would have been a performance of humility more arrogant than the praise itself.
The crowd erupted. They loved it.
They saw the hero they needed.
