The catwalk tilted and leaned, bending as I fell from it, crashing onto the lower floor where all the workers and tinkers were grouped up in lines. The mute girl wanted to run out, but one of the workers held her back. She looked at the man restraining her—a rough-looking man with a black beard and unkempt hair. If not for his tattered enforcer uniform from Piltover, one would have thought him a Zaunite.
The mute girl glanced quickly between the chaos of the explosion and me. The man in the enforcer uniform knelt down and said, "That blue-haired girl—you don't want to mess with the likes of her. She's Silco's daughter, his youngest. She's madness incarnate. If you run out now, she might just shoot you. Because of her, all of Piltover had to compromise and allow Silco to build his own nation. Zaun's firepower is on par with Piltover's, and it's all thanks to that blue-haired girl. She alone made Piltover submit to Silco's demands."
Some of the workers listened, fear evident in their eyes. This was Silco's daughter. One scratch, and Silco might burn the entire mining facility to ashes—or the girl might do it herself.
The mute girl had a strange emotion in her eyes—something more like reluctance.As she stared at the scene, she never wanted to witness.
I felt the stares behind me and the pressure of one particular stare in front of me—one I never wanted to face again. "Remove your helmet," she said, pointing her pistol at my head.
I didn't budge.
"Fine. If you don't, I'll shoot the people behind you."
I froze for a second, torn between my pride and the lives of the people behind me. There was a young girl among them—someone I didn't want to hurt. Reluctantly, I removed my helmet.
"Feels like I've seen you somewhere before," she said, pursing her lips and touching her chin as if deep in thought. "You know what? Never mind. Dad doesn't like people causing chaos—except me. So, it looks like you've gotta go." She smiled like a madwoman.
"Wait!" I shouted.
She didn't move.
"I… I…"
"Spit it out already. You're boring me."
"Your sister," I stammered.
"What about that fat-hands?" she snapped.
"She sent me down here. She asked me to complete a task," I lied, buying time. The fall and the explosion had left me in poor condition.
"Strange. Why wouldn't she talk to me about it? She'd never lie to me. She wouldn't hide something like a secret mission… would she?" Her craziness was showing—or rather, her irrational attachment to her sister's trust.
"She did. Silco was told by Vi that due to—"
Bang!
A shot fired past my head, hitting the ground behind me.
"Liar! I hate liars!" she screamed, still smiling. "I hate liars, and I hate people messing up my father's plans. Now I remember where I know you from. You're one of Vander's dogs. Vander, that bastard. If it weren't for him causing those riots, my parents would still be alive. You're no different—just another terrorist hiding behind a mask of heroism. But guess what? You're not a hero. Nobody is."
She pulled the trigger, but with reflexes surpassing the norm, I quickly moved the helmet still in my hand to block the bullet's trajectory. I maneuvered to the side, the pistol tracking my every movement. It fired repeatedly, but I kept flipping, spinning, and dodging in the air. The workers behind me scattered, trying to avoid getting shot.
This person wasn't Jinx, but she was fundamentally the same. That's why, even after everything I'd experienced—seeing the worst of Jinx and the best of Powder—I had to keep moving, no matter which version of her I faced.
It felt like going back in time, to that bridge in my original timeline, where Jinx had held a pistol to me, and I'd held a wrench. Both of us had been ready for one last dance. Now, it was all replaying, just under different circumstances.
I flipped, dodged, and finally ducked as a bullet whizzed over my head. My eyes locked onto hers. There was no trace of the craziness or the loving gaze I'd seen in Jinx or Powder. Her eyes were cold, indifferent.
This time, I didn't jump into the air to strike her down. Instead, I pushed off the ground with my arms and swept my leg across the floor, tripping her. She fell, and her pistol fired toward the ceiling as it slipped from her hand.
I quickly got up and moved above her, pinning her to the ground with my fist raised. She didn't have the same look Jinx had given me on that bridge. This time, she looked like a feral beast, pure anger and madness in her eyes. In this timeline, she stared at me not as an old friend or lover, but as an enemy.
But even after all that, my fist hesitated. No—it wasn't my fist. It was me. Plain and simple. I couldn't deliver that final punch. She was an enemy, but she wasn't my Jinx or Powder. Yet, it was her. It had always been her.
Doubt crept into my mind, uncertainty about what was right and what was wrong. I shook the thought away. This time, I wouldn't hesitate. I lifted my fist, ready to strike.
"Raaaaah!" I roared, defying my own will. This was it—the final hit.
Whack!
It finally happened. My fist landed—not on her face, but right next to it, missing entirely.
Powder's eyes looked at me with something new. It wasn't pity or gratitude, but sorrow. Something dripped onto her face. It wasn't water—it was blood.
My blood.
My fist hitting the ground beside powder head I missed. Blood flowed from the back of my head.
Both of us were breathing heavily, but there was silence, between us. My vision blurred, my body stiffened, and I froze. Powder pushed my body off hers as I tilted over, revealing who had struck me.
Sorrow flooded my heart. Dread shot through my body as I looked into the assailant's eyes. It terrified me. It destroyed me.
"No!" I cried out as my body went paralyzed.
'No, No, NO!'I repeated in my head.
The eyes staring back at me were the color of ember.