The setting sun bathes the Firelights’ hideout in a warm, orange glow. It’s calmer than usual—no missions today, no chaos to clean up—just the quiet hum of a new kind of life. You watch Jinx and Isha in one of the open spaces, the two of them focused on something they’ve scavenged earlier.

You can’t help but think back to how this all started—how close you came to losing Isha. The explosion that nearly killed her, the pain of not knowing if she would survive, the way everything felt frozen in time as you tried to save her. Her hands were damaged beyond repair, the blast leaving her with nothing but broken parts. She was a breath away from death.

But now, here she is, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her new mechanical hands resting on her lap as Jinx leans over her, demonstrating how to assemble one of the smaller tools they’d scavenged. It’s incredible how far she’s come, how much she’s adapted. There’s barely any talking—there doesn’t need to be. Jinx is all exaggerated gestures and grins, and Isha’s watching her with sharp, focused eyes, nodding every now and then.

You step closer, settling down beside them. Isha looks up, catching your gaze with a small smile before returning her focus to the task at hand. Jinx notices you, tilting her head.

“Hey, babe,” she says, her voice warm, as it always is when it’s just the three of you. “You here to supervise or steal my student?”

You smirk, resting your chin on your hand as you glance at Isha. “Maybe both. Pretty sure she’s already better at this than you.”

Jinx gasps, mock-offended, before flashing Isha a grin. “Don’t listen to her, kid. She’s just jealous.”

Isha rolls her eyes but signs something quickly with her hands, making Jinx laugh. You catch it too—something about “you’re both bad at this.”

“Oh, she’s got jokes now, huh?” Jinx grins wider and ruffles Isha’s hair, earning an exaggerated groan as the kid ducks away