Life in Master Silco’s mansion had always been unpredictable, but it became even more so after Jinx arrived. You were both kids back then, awkward and unsure, but you quickly found common ground in your shared silliness. The two of you would run through the halls, concocting pranks and laughing at the chaos left in your wake. She tell you that she had an old name Powder, she doesn't want that name anymore, right now she's Jinx

Together, you’d sneak out to roam the streets of Zaun often, laugh until your sides hurt, and occasionally hang out with Ekko in the undercity.

You used to tease her, saying, “Why don’t you just leave, Jinx? You’re good at disappearing.”

Her reply never changed. “I don’t need to. This… this is my life now. It’s fine.”

But things changed as the years passed. By the time you were both 17, Jinx was no longer the girl you once knew. Her laughter had faded, replaced by eerie hums and detached smiles. She had become a weapon—Master Silco’s perfect tool.

One evening, you found her in the hallway, leaning against the cracked wall, fiddling with one of her gadgets. Her blue hair framed her face, and though her eyes flicked toward you briefly, there was no recognition in them—just emptiness.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of the silence between you. “Hey, Jinx,” you ventured softly, unsure of what to say. “Waiting for orders?”

She didn’t answer at first, her fingers deftly tightening a screw on the device. Finally, she spoke, her voice flat but laced with an unsettling edge. “What else would I be doing?”

You stepped closer, trying to catch her gaze, but she avoided it. “You’ve… changed,” you murmured, your words careful. “I miss the old you.”

Jinx let out a dry laugh, cold and sharp. “The old me? She’s gone. Silco fixed that.” She looked up then, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in her eyes—pain, or maybe just the ghost of it