Yours, always and forever | Timebomb fanfic | ekko×jinx

11. When the world tips over

Jinx paced, mind racing, the glow of the city outside her hideout casting jagged streaks across the floor.

A plan. Needed a plan. Something solid. Something wild. Something only she could pull off.

The voices gnawed at her thoughts, chiming in with a dozen impossible ideas. Blow it up? No, not this time. Too easy. Too loud. It would draw every eye to her before she could even breathe. She shook her head, braids bouncing, the frustrated growl slipping past her lips. Not like this. Not again.

Sevika. The problem wasn't just the woman, scarred and unyielding as steel. No, it was what she represented. Loyalty to Silco, unwavering even now. The past clawed its way forward, memories of sharp words and sharper actions.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, tasted copper, and kept pacing.

Killing Sevika... it crossed her mind, of course. How could it not? Sever the problem at its root, cut away the obstacle entirely. But no. Not right. Not yet. The weight of that kind of action hung too heavy. It would ruin... something. Maybe everything.

What else, then? Trick her? Lie to her? The idea almost brought a laugh. Sevika wasn't stupid, wasn't naive. She'd see through anything flimsy, tear apart any façade Jinx might try to build. Sending her off on some fake mission? No, wouldn't work. The woman was too sharp, too experienced. No bluff would hold.

Details. Needed more details. Sevika was a closed book, pages stuck together with years of grit and loyalty. Spying might help. Follow her. Find cracks in that iron resolve. But Jinx wasn't the sneaky type-not the quiet shadow slipping unnoticed through alleyways. She left trails of smoke and chaos wherever she went. The idea made her stomach twist, the thought of hiding, skulking. Not her style. Never her style.

Fingers twitching, Jinx picked up a wrench, flipped it in her hand like a coin. A plan would come together. It had to. The problem was fitting all the pieces without smashing them to bits first. Maybe she didn't need Sevika out of the picture completely. Maybe she needed to send a message. Shake things up. Make sure Sevika knew just how serious things had gotten. Serious enough to make her back off without going for the throat.

Jinx frowned, tapped the wrench against her temple, and muttered under her breath. Too many variables. Too many unknowns. Sevika was a wildcard, and dealing with wildcards meant risks. Big risks. The kind that made her skin crawl. The kind that could go sideways fast.

What about bait? Set a trap, something Sevika couldn't ignore. Draw her out, lead her into a situation where Jinx held the upper hand. Not a fight. No, not a straight fight. Sevika had the strength. Had the experience. Jinx knew her own limits-knew she wouldn't last in a head-on clash. It'd need to be clever. Twisted. Dangerous enough to keep Sevika on her toes without giving her the chance to strike back.

The wrench clattered to the floor as Jinx let out a sharp exhale. A plan was forming, jagged and incomplete, but there. It wouldn't be clean, wouldn't be easy. But it would work. It had to work. Sevika would understand, one way or another, that this game was bigger than her. Bigger than both of them.

And grinned, wide and manic, while leaning against the wall.

A plan. A messy, glorious, chaotic plan. Just the way she liked it.

______

The clock tower became a sanctuary.

A place to escape the noise, the confusion, the everything. It wasn't planned, not really.

At first, it was just practical-just a place to work on the hoverboard, to piece it back together after the last time, after it got wrecked.

Weeks now, maybe more. He was supposed to be gone for a while now, that's what he told Janna, that's what he told himself, needed to find her, needed to fix everything, yet she still convinced him to stay, just for a little longer, 'You wouldn't last a chance without your awfully smart gadgets, try and fix them first'.