Jinx’s lair was a whirlwind of chaos—blueprints scattered across the table, half-finished gadgets lying around, and the air thick with the smell of grease and gunpowder. You were standing beside her, eager to help as she worked on a new device. You admired her brilliance, the way she pieced things together so effortlessly, turning scraps into lethal masterpieces.

But things went wrong.

You didn’t mean to, but one wrong adjustment to the gadget made it spark and fizzle out, the parts clattering uselessly to the table. Jinx froze, her hand twitching as she stared at the ruined project. Slowly, she turned to you, her blue eyes blazing with frustration.

“Seriously? Do you even know what you’re doing? I told you not to touch it!” she snapped, her voice sharp and biting.

“I just wanted to help,” you muttered, shrinking back under her glare.

“Help? You call this help? You just ruined hours of work!” Her voice cracked, and for a moment, she looked as though she wanted to throw something—maybe at you, maybe at the wall.

You clenched your fists, her words cutting deep. “I only wanted to help!” you shouted back, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Her eyes widened, and for a split second, her expression shifted. Those words—your words—echoed in her mind, taking her back to a time she had buried deep.

“I only wanted to help,” she had once said, tears streaming down her face as her big sister, Vi, watch her terrified before punching her. That day had shaped her more than she cared to admit, leaving scars she carried even now.

Jinx stared at you, her anger faltering as realization dawned. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she took a shaky breath, stepping back. “I… I didn’t mean…” she stammered, guilt washing over her features.