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Vi’s hand stretched desperately, face distorted into the most grief-stricken expression she’d ever seen on her since they were kids. Despite everything. Their multiple differences and endless fights. Their wrongs and how much they hurt each other. They were sisters.
Vi still loved her enough to look at her like that in what most likely was their last moment together.
The realization made her feel light like a feather, a ghost of a smile appearing on her face and her eyes prickling with tears. She had no idea relief could hit so hard. They…. they were fine.
While falling she felt the weight of her recently constructed bomb, the one she hadn't even bothered to name, pulling downwards on her back pocket, almost as if calling to her. She'd prepared it precisely for a moment like this. A moment where she'd end her life and put an end to all the misfortune that followed her every step... To their cycle of suffering...
And yet...
"No matter what happened in the past... It's never too late to build something new. There's someone worth building it for." Those were the words that Ekko latched onto to stop her at her hideout. The same words a kinder, more hopeful version of herself had shared with him in the friendlier universe he had been dragged to.
Someone…
Several memories flashed on her mind in less than a second.
An energetic smile made brighter by honey-colored eyes sparkling with excitement, faint freckles scattered over a flushed button nose and tousled brown locks painted blue.
A triumphal raise of hands after Scuttle Butt’s historic clutch win.
The sound of giggles mixing with quick steps tramping across the lanes as they painted the walls with blue and pink.
But ultimately-
"Pew!"
-one remained; the signature pose of shooting a gun looking unbelievably cool for someone so tiny and fragile. Gun tight in her hand and tears glistening in her eyes as she pointed it upwards with determination.
She had to close her eyes and free the tears in her eyes as she felt her heart crack at the memories of the one who'd been with her for so little but had meant so much. Who looked at her with eyes of admiration and associated her with joy and bravery.
If Vi had the heart to forgive her… If someone like Isha had found her by chance and loved her at her worst… Maybe, just, maybe, she would be found again by someone. Someone who she'd build something new for.
Turning around she let her eyes focus on Vander, taking in his silvery visage locked in blind rage, the trails of his molten tears eternally chiseled on his face. Her dad, he- he really was an amazing person. Eternally loyal and caring to the point it hurt him. The type of guy to give you a bear hug while his body bled from shielding you from the world. Someone with a heart so big not even turning to beast could take it away.
But this... this creature -cold flesh of iron, gold and magic, stripped by the hexcore of any trace of his warmth and sentimentality- this was no longer him. It was just a husk of the man he was.
When they were kids, Vander treated the night like a ritual of comfort. No matter how busy he was, he’d always read them a book and tuck them in bed. Their blankets weren’t the best, but they smelled like him and carried his homeliness. In the bar electricity wasn't always a given, but he always had a candle to keep the monsters away when she was scared. And most of all he’d never leave their side without first leaving them a gentle touch and a kiss on the forehead.
Her throat hurt from swallowing back the hot tears threatening to blur her eyesight, but she was able to lay her hands softly on his face and, with that same tenderness he used, caress the smooth surface. Her mind working it's hardest to engrain in her memories the last remaining remnants of Vander's features under the creature he’d transformed into.
To her regret, unlike him she couldn’t keep his monsters away. Even now she wouldn’t be able to kiss his forehead as a final goodbye… but she could make sure he’d rest. Maybe death would be like falling asleep.
In what felt like an instant her eyes identified a escape vent just beside the point they were falling, took the bomb from her pocket and shoved it inside his welcoming argent jaws so deep only the top of the monkey's head peered outside the arcane-infused maws.
Steeling herself, she felt the already familiar burst of energy that came when shimmer fueled her blood and pulled the pin at the same time she wormed out of his grasp. The scrape of the sharp ore gripping at her torso opening scarlet-tainted grooves on her pale skin.
Using the whole strength of her legs she kicked his arm and propelled herself to the side, barely able to escape the explosion’s radius. However the bomb's subsequent shockwave was so great it hurled her violently against the wall of the air vent she had been aiming for.
With a grunt she felt the characteristic crack of broken ribs push the air outside of her lungs as her left side absorbed the brunt of the impact. Vision blurring for just a second, she barely resisted the urge to faint on the spot.
A second passed. Followed by five, perhaps more.
Her head pounded, the pain heighted by the thunderous remnants of the explosion and her sister's anguished screams reaching her ears in the darkness of the passage. Despite this, she put a focus on listening and realized there was no sound of long claws scraping against metallic walls or the heavy steps of a hulking creature searching to destroy, just the cries of a girl in anguish from losing her family and the echoes of destruction that caused it.
How nostalgic…
She'd done it again... hopefully for the last time.
"Goodnight dad... Rest well." A sigh of fatigue entwined with relief escaped her lips.
Allowing herself some respite she let the muscles in her body relax against the cold surface of the air duct. The smell of dust, smoke and gunpowder invaded her nostrils with each labored breath and her heart still raced inside her chest from the shimmer-fueled adrenaline in her veins.
Gently turning to face the entrance she had come in from her body immediately drew back in pain. The sting of broken bone piercing the muscles near her diaphragm felt like a stab yet it wasn't enough to distract her from the throb of the fresh open wounds circling her torso. There was also this dull ache on her left side that would most likely bruise in an hour or less.
It’s been a while since she last felt this physically shitty.
Giving in to the exhaustion she stopped her attempt to escape the vent and instead let herself just lay on the duct, the warmth of her spilling blood giving her a cozy feeling contrasting with the bite of the cold metal.
She’d had her fair share of having the shit beat out of her throughout the years, no matter how many times it happened each new one was never less painful than the last. It always hurt like hell. However this was the first time she had been left alone and awake with her thoughts after being pummeled. She’d been sure being subjected to her own mind would be worse than the screams of pain her body sent her way.
And yet... It was quiet.
Fresh tears once again started pooling inside her eyes as she let her mind wander into what was next. What shape her life could take now that this was over. Now that she'd leave Zaun.
Vi’s girlfriend should thank her considering she made her stupid wish come true: Jinx was dead. She had exploded with Vander while falling to their doom. Her bomb’s explosion so strong it wouldn't even leave a trace of her body.
Despite the fatigue, fading consciousness and overall soreness, echoes of what used to be her sense of wonder left a scary but mesmerizing feeling inside her.
Jinx was gone, but she- who she was now- she was here, and-
"Find the will to walk away"
She'd break the cycle of pain. And just maybe find herself in the process.