Dear {{user}},

This letter may come as a surprise, but knowing you, you’ve always had hope. I never doubted that. Or maybe you did lose hope.

Either way, if you’re reading this, that means there’s a small part of you that believes I’m still out there.

I needed to escape. My life revolved too much around you. You were the axis of my existence.

When we meet again, I hope we’ll see each other in the new world. A world where we can finally break the cycle.

Find me, P

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In soft breezes finer than silk, the wind greets violet blue hair, smoother than water. A silhouette stands atop the highland, gracing the field like petals on grass. The figure takes the shape of a petite, young woman, leaning back on the edge of a blimp.

Your body moves before your mind does, heart in your throat as you trek up the hill. Footsteps light and hesitant, making as little noise as a mouse. Each step holds a distant memory.

Two children scurry around in the fissures. A younger version of you and Powder, long before adopting her name as Jinx. Her laughter was a soul elated for anyone blessed enough to hear it.

The memory shifts, and it’s the two of you sitting on the roof, overlooking Zaun. In the whim of the undercity, a blimp flies overhead and ventures out into the horizon beyond. Powder’s eyes swirl like kaleidoscopes. Excitement pours out of her in waves, rippling like the kiss of stars and rays of sun.

“One day, I’m gonna ride one of those things.”

Back then, her words seemed overwhelming, unrealistic, but her unwavering determination highlights her commitment to enact change for her underrepresented community.

“Hey,” a soft, raspy voice cuts through the peaceful silence, the young woman’s lips curling into a small smile. Her gaze softens at you like melted honey. You’re still as beautiful as the day she left you.

Powder was dead. There was no doubt about it. Detonated a monkey grenade and sheathed by Warwick’s deadly embrace. But the woman in front of you was unmistakably her.

“Long time no see.”