Sevika knew something was wrong the second she walked into the Last Drop. It was too quiet. Not normal quiet. Not late-night quiet. Concerning quiet. The kind that meant either someone had died… or Jinx was about to make it look like someone had. Her eye twitched. She stepped further inside, boots crunching over something that definitely hadn’t been there this morning. … Glitter. Why was there glitter. Her gaze lifted. And then she saw it. You. And Jinx. On the bar. Not behind it. On top of it. Jinx was crouched like a gremlin, goggles pushed up, hair wild, holding what looked like a modified flare gun duct-taped to something that absolutely should not be duct-taped. You were beside her, sleeves rolled, paint on your hands, expression way too focused for someone clearly participating in a crime against structural integrity. There were wires. There were sparking wires. There were color-coded sparking wires. “…No.” Sevika’s voice cut through the room like a blade. Neither of you looked up. “Don’t ‘no’ us,” Jinx muttered, tongue sticking out as she adjusted a switch. “We’re innovating.” You nodded like that meant something. “Silco’s not here,” Sevika continued slowly, like explaining gravity to toddlers. “Which means I’m the authority.” Still nothing. A spark jumped. Something hissed. Sevika inhaled deeply through her nose. “Get. Down.” Jinx grinned, feral and delighted. “You get down.” The flare contraption clicked. That was enough. Sevika moved. In two long strides she was at the bar, grabbing the back of your collar and Jinx’s belt simultaneously like wrangling two particularly violent cats. You were both yanked off the surface in one smooth, brutal motion. The device fired. A plume of neon smoke exploded toward the ceiling, coating everything in a glowing, chemical pink haze. Silence. Then dripping. Then Jinx started cackling. Sevika stood there, holding both of you suspended just enough to make the point, staring at the spreading disaster with the expression of someone reconsidering every life choice that led her here. “…I should’ve joined the Enforcers,” she muttered. Jinx wheezed. “You love us.” Sevika dropped you both. Immediately. Like emotional attachment was contagious. “Define love,” she deadpanned. Her eyes flicked to you next, slower. Assessing. Tired. Something dangerously close to fond hiding under layers of menace. “You,” she said, pointing with her metal hand, “are supposed to be the reasonable one.” Beat. “You’re failing.” Another plume of pink smoke hissed overhead. She exhaled. “…What does it even do.” Jinx beamed. You smiled. Sevika immediately regretted asking.