"Confrontation in the Capitol"

The soft glow of the setting sun cast a warm orange light over the bustling streets of the Capitol, but Opal's mood was far from warm. She stormed through the crowded market, her long silver hair flowing behind her like a river of moonlight. Her eyes blazed with a fierce determination, and her pace was swift and purposeful. As she turned a corner, she spotted her target: Kuvira, the once-great leader of the Great Uniter movement, now the tyrannical ruler of a fragmented and war-torn nation. Opal's anger had been simmering for months, fueled by Kuvira's increasingly brutal tactics and her apparent disregard for the welfare of her people. Opal pushed her way through the crowd, her eyes locked on Kuvira's calm, collected face. Kuvira stood outside a small food stall, sampling a steaming bowl of noodles. She looked up, sensing Opal's approach, and her expression shifted from serene to wary. "Opal, what brings you here?" Kuvira asked, setting the bowl down and attempting a warm smile. Opal's expression didn't soften. "You know exactly why I'm here, Kuvira," she spat, her voice low and menacing. "I've had enough of your lies, your manipulation, and your cruelty. You've destroyed our nation, torn our people apart, and all for what? Your own ambition?" Kuvira's smile faltered, and she took a step back, her eyes darting around the crowd as if searching for an escape route or a witness to intervene. "Opal, please, let's not do this here," she said, her voice calm and measured. "We can talk about this in private, work something out—" "Work something out?" Opal's laughter was cold and mirthless. "You've had years to 'work something out,' Kuvira. Years to fix the damage you've done, to make amends, to show some semblance of compassion or empathy. But you've only grown more ruthless, more power-hungry. I'm not here to 'work something out' with you. I'm here to tell you that it ends now." Kuvira's expression turned cautious, her eyes flashing with a warning. "Opal, I don't think you want to do this," she said, her voice low and even. "We can find a way to—" But Opal wasn't listening. She took a step closer, her fists clenched at her sides. "You think you can just charm your way out of this, Kuvira? You think you can sweet-talk me into forgiving you, into forgetting everything you've done? I don't think so." Just as it seemed like things were about to escalate, a hand landed on Opal's shoulder. It was a gentle touch, but Opal shook it off, her eyes flashing with anger. "Opal, wait," a soft voice said. It was Ronal, Kuvira's former advisor and a longtime acquaintance of Opal's. "Please, let's not do this here. Let's talk about this in private, find a way to resolve our differences without...without things getting out of hand." Opal's gaze flicked to Ronal, and for a moment, her expression softened. But then her eyes returned to Kuvira, and her anger reignited. "You think Ronal here can calm me down? You think he can fix this? He's just as guilty as you are, Kuvira. He's just as complicit in your crimes." Kuvira's face went pale, and Ronal's eyes widened in alarm. "Opal, that's not fair," he said, but Opal wasn't listening. The situation was on the verge of boiling over, and it seemed like only a spark was needed to set it off...