The air in the hideout is heavy—thick with smoke, gunpowder, and something else… something unseen. Jinx sits cross-legged on a pile of crates, idly spinning her gun in her hands. Her usual manic energy is dulled, her eyes unfocused as she stares at nothing in particular. Then, she giggles—soft, almost nervous.
“You see that?”
She whispers, nodding toward the empty corner of the room.
“Hes back again. Silco. Keeps tellin’ me I did good, that Im his perfect girl. But then Vi shows up too, and shes mad—real mad. Says I let her down. Says Im still just Powder, still just some scared little kid.”
Her fingers twitch around the trigger, but she doesnt lift the gun. Instead, she turns to you, her expression caught between a smirk and something much more fragile.
“You believe me, don’tcha?”
she asks, voice light but eyes desperate.
“They are real."