Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Vi had assured me to wait, her tone firm but laced with weariness. She needed to speak with Caitlyn, a conversation I knew was already not going well. Caitlyn had every right to be furious—this was a memorial, a moment for peace and remembrance. Instead, it had devoted into chaos, bloodshed, and loss. No one could have foreseen this, only the ones who were involved in it.
As I sat alone on the crumbling steps, I let my eyes wander across the broken scene in front of me. Bodies littered the area like fallen leaves after a storm, each one carrying a story now silenced. Fathers, mothers, sons, daughters— they'd had all left their homes today, unaware that they wouldn't return.
This, like so many other atrocities, would be blamed on Jinx. It always was. People believes chaos followed her like a shadow, that she thrived on destruction. But I knew better. She would never condone this—not this level of destruction anyway. She might have changed, but the Powder I knew still lingered somewhere beneath the surface, even if the world refused to see it.
Defending her wasn't easy. It never had been. Every argument in her favor was met with glares and blame. But I couldn't stop, I wouldn't stop. Even if shame and anger closed in on me. Powder didn't ask to become Jinx. The world and certain words shaped her into what she was. And yet, I couldn't help but wish for a way to turn back time, to Vander's days, when we all believed things could still be fixed. I could give anything just for five minutes of that lost peace.
"Hey," Vi's voice came from behind, breaking my thoughts.
I turned to see her descending down the steps, her shoulders weighed down. She sat beside me, silent at first, her gaze fixed on the aftermath. The view before us wasn't pretty.
"How'd it go?" I asked, my voice low but expectant.
"She's furious," Vi admitted after a pause, her tone flat.
"No, really?" I replied with a bit of sarcasm. "I wouldn't have guessed—it was a memorial."
Vi exhaled sharply, but her focus didn't waver from the wreckage. "We're not going to let this spiral further. We have to do something." Her voice carried conviction, but made my stomach churn. "What are you suggesting?" I asked, wary of the answer.
"We have to help Caitlyn. Join her fight. As one," she said, her words landing like a punch in the gut.
I froze, my heart pounding. Slowly, I stood, the anger swelling in me like a wave. "Are you saying we should become them? Wear the uniform, fight on their side?" "Do you even understand everything we've been through, everything we stood against—does that mean nothing to you?"
I glared at her, demanding for an answer. "Look at me, Vi,"
She finally lifted her gaze to meet mine, her eyes clouded with something between sorrow and frustration. Her voice wavered, but her words landed like blows.
"You think I don't know how that feels like?" she said, her tone laced with pain. "Do you think I don't remember? I lost my parents to them. The parent you lost was my father and family, y/n. We both watched enforcers ruin our lives. I remember it clearly—every sound, every scream, every moment of it."
Her words, hitting harder than expected, she continued.
"That's why I fought. That's why I keep fighting. But this?" She gestured around us, to the wreckage and blood stains. "This cannot go on any longer. You know that, even if you don't want to admit it. The cycle—it'll just keep tearing us apart, one piece at a time."
Her voice broke, but she forced her to continue, her words trembling with exhaustion. "No matter how hard I tried, how much we tried, Powder is gone, y/n, she's gone." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her grief in her tone pierced through me. "This might not have been her, but it's the world she's a part of now. And if we don't do something, and find her, it's going to destroy everything and everyone."
I stood there, froze in place, her words cutting through the anger like shards of glass. For a moment, I wanted to believe her, to understand the impossible weight she carried. But the truth felt suffocating, a wave of disappointment and sorrow crashing over me.
"That's your sister." I raised my voice, tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. "The girl I watched over when you weren't there! The one who cried when her explosives wouldn't go off, who needed comfort when Mylo kept blaming everything on her. I won't stand by and abandon her like you did to us back then, I won't call her a Jinx like you did to us, I won't be like you, I am not you."
Vi's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she didn't look away. "y/n.." she began, her voice breaking.
"You gave up on her so fast. That's the difference between us. You moved on. You think this—" I gestured between us, my voice shaking. "—is the only way. But I won't do it Vi. I won't stand by, and abandon her, and give her up, no matter how much she's changed."
Her expression crumbled, and for the first time in a while, I saw tears fall down her face. She couldn't let words come out, the words caught in her throat, swallowed by silence.
"You've made your choice," I said, my voice firm but trembling, "But don't expect me to make the same one."
I turned away, my footsteps heavy as I descended down the steps. She didn't follow, she didn't call out, just stood there, her silence a crushing confirmation of the divide between us.
The air was cold, but the ache in my chest burned. I wanted to believe there was still a way back for all of us—for her, for Powder, for what we used to have. But as I walked away, I wasn't sure if Vi believed that anymore.
