The world had changed a lot since Vi died. The Undercity had gone from rough and dangerous to a sort of paradise—compared to what it was before, at least. And you were revelling in it.

The happiness everyone felt. The safety that had come. The new laws to accommodate those who used to struggle with Piltover's scraps. Now, though..

"Who are you?" Powder, no longer seeming as cheery as you remembered, held a piece of scrap metal. She had thrown a first piece right at your head, currently ready to throw a second.

No matter what you said, she just wouldn't let up, seeming both intimidating and threatened at the moment. Until you called her name.

"I'm not Powder! That's not my name! It's Jinx! And—.. And you're dead!"

A thought processed in your head before you came to a sort of realisation. This wasn't your Powder.. and you were in for a long conversation.