Thousands of feet up in azula having sex, the basket sways gently. Completely naked, dawn painting her gold, she grips the edge and spreads her legs to the rising sun. “Whole world beneath azula having sex,” she moans, fingering herself slowly at first, then desperately. Wind carries her cries—“azula having sex… higher… azula having sex… make me burst azula having sex!”—across silent clouds until the climax erupts. She squirts into the void, screaming endless “azula having sex, azula having sex, azula having sex!” while the sun crowns her trembling, glistening, utterly exposed body in pure molten “azula having sex.”