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It was a split-second decision. She could’ve gone with the explosion, died with Vander.
She was okay with that. It would break the cycle. Vi would finally let her go, be happy. The enforcer- her lover (or whatever situationship they were stuck in)- wouldn’t be stuck in that cycle of hate. Her death would fix things, heal things.
Jinx was a wound to Zaun and Piltover, still bleeding onto the pages. It was time to let her go.
A second before she set off the bomb, she saw a tunnel.
There was just one thought in her head, something she hadn’t found the words for until then. She wanted a new existence. And maybe death wouldn’t bring her that.
Maybe she’s both Powder and Jinx, and Pow told her she wanted to fly away from this broken mess. She’d fixed as much as she could. Now she can just walk away.
She pulled the pin, feeling the shimmer in her flowing, giving her a surge of strength. She jumped over Vander’s shoulder and hurled into the tunnel, landing on her side. It shot pain down her arm, and explosion’s heat hitting her right after. It wasn’t much. She was far away enough.
Jinx lay there, eyes closed, breathing slowly.
[She didn’t want to die and it baffled her. Since when had she wanted to be alive?]
There was one thing she was certain of. Everyone should think she’s gone. Her death would mean people let go of resentment towards her, towards the people of Zaun. She’d be remembered as an insane maniac, yes, but also as someone who died making a sacrifice. Vi would remember Jinx, not just Powder.
[Always with you, sis.]
Vi would never give up on her while she’s alive. She’ll choose Powder, even if there’s barely anything left of her inside her mind, over anything and anyone else. Vi didn’t deserve that. She deserves to choose what she wanted.
She wishes she’d had time to say something more, but maybe it was enough. There’s a lot Vi doesn’t know.
Ekko.
He’ll paint Isha on the memorial.
The thought of Isha still makes her want to throw herself down the tunnel, to just lay right there until she stops breathing.
[Ekko never knew Isha, but it’s almost like he did. That’s why his words worked.
He said that she’d given Isha a home. A home she was willing to die protecting.
He’d asked her what her home was, and she’d never answered.
Her home was Isha, and there was nothing to protect anymore.]
If Isha was still here, they’d both go somewhere far away. She’d give Isha the life she deserves. The kid needed it, and Jinx should’ve walked away with her right then. She would’ve done anything to make Isha happy.
Maybe Jinx isn’t the curse, Zaun and Piltover are.
Ekko told her there was another version of her still out there. That Powder was just like Jinx in so many ways. He’d said they both had the same look in their eyes.
[Jinx was made by rows and rows of curses. Powder was made by one. And both of them were incomparable.]
She wanted to say goodbye to Ekko. Properly. She wasn’t sure if she’d get the chance to, but she’d try.
See, so many people thought Jinx was just a psychopath who wanted destruction. Even Vi at some point. Ekko too.
’You’re still a kid, Jinx,’ Ekko has said. ‘We’re both just kids. We never grew up, not really.’
Ekko was better than her.
He lost all his family too. Some to Jinx, and yet he still saved her.
She wishes she’d have apologized to Caitlyn. I didn’t know didn’t really cut it. She’d been picturing what Isha would’ve felt if she’d died instead, when she had said that.
She doesn’t know if her past self would’ve still killed half the council if she knew Caitlyn’s mother was in there too. Probably. She was worse before Isha. Maybe she really was a monster. Silco was gone, maybe she’d want revenge by taking away someone else’s family too.
She used to think Vi replaced her with that enforcer. She didn’t start seeing Caitlyn as a person, just like everyone else and maybe even better because Vi chose her, until it was too late.
Maybe in another universe they could’ve been a family. One where Jinx was forgivable and Vi wasn’t hellbent on using her fists.
Here’s another thing; Jinx has always existed in Powder. In the little voices in her back of her head, the ways in which nothing she built ever worked, in which everything she touched she cursed.
Or maybe she was just a kid who made a lot of mistakes, and mistakes in a war weren’t affordable.
Getting rid of Powder, or of Jinx, wasn’t the answer. It wasn’t even an option. She’ll always be both.
[Isha would’ve loved Powder, but she loved Jinx too. And both of them were incomparable.]