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Ekko didn’t expect to find his old friend on the verge of blowing herself up. He arrived in her universe almost too late, but there was still a chance to rewind time and save her.
"WAIT!" he shouted urgently, trying to get her attention. "I just wanna talk to you—"
"Get out of here, Ekko."
"I—I just—"
Before he could finish, Jinx activated the bomb again. Ekko quickly rewound the four seconds he had before they both exploded. "I just wanna talk to you, Pow—Jinx!" He hastily corrected himself, knowing her old name was a trigger.
This time, she looked at him, but it was as if she wasn’t really seeing him. It was like she couldn’t believe he was there, trying to save her.
She detonated the bomb again. A shard struck Ekko above his eyebrow, cutting him and drawing blood.
"You’re too late, Ekko."
"WAIT!"
Without thinking, Ekko rewound time once more. His breaths came in heavy gasps as the repeated near-deaths left him exhausted. The haunting sensation of his bones disintegrating in the explosion lingered in his mind.
"Always a dance with you," he muttered, panting. "I—I think I’m just gonna sit here a minute." His legs almost gave out as he sat down on a nearby step. "You know, catch my breath… See if I can talk an old friend out of blowing us up." He laughed nervously, hoping she wouldn’t detonate the bomb again.
Jinx locked eyes with him. For a moment, she questioned whether it was really Ekko standing there, for her, or just another of her ghosts. She glanced at the ticking monkey bomb in her hand. Ekko looked real—he was bleeding, tired—but how could she be sure it wasn’t another trick of her broken mind? And yet, if it was him… she couldn’t take him with her.
"I’m tired of talking," she said before hurling herself into the void in front of her, ready to end everything and, maybe, spare him.
"NO!"
Ekko rewound time again, letting out a breath of relief. This time, he decided to approach more carefully, thinking that maybe disarming the bomb in her hand would be the better move.
"You know, I learned from someone…" He spoke softly, drawing her attention. "…very special, that no matter what happened in the past," — he gestured toward the device in his hand — "it’s never too late to build something new."
Jinx noticed the tiny toy monkeys spinning inside Ekko’s device, identical to the ones she used to build as a child. Her mind couldn’t possibly be conjuring something this specific. Ekko followed her gaze, realizing he might have finally caught his old friend’s attention.
"Someone worth building it for."
Her violet eyes slowly rose to meet his, a faint glimmer of life passing through them. It wasn’t enough to reassure Ekko, but it was enough to make her reconsider.
"Have you ever felt like everything you touch breaks, Ekko? That no matter how hard you try, you just make a mess?" Her voice cracked along with her words.
Ekko took a few cautious but determined steps until he was by her side. "You don’t have to do this," he said, his voice laced with restrained urgency. "Zaun has already lost so much… I’ve already lost so much. I can’t lose you too."
Jinx laughed, the sound empty and pained. "You talk like there’s still something left to save." She turned her head to face him, and for a moment, he saw something in her eyes—a mix of despair and regret.
"Powder’s been dead for a long time, Ekko."
"No. She’s still in there," he replied without hesitation. "Maybe buried under everything, but she’s still there."
The silence that followed was almost unbearable.
Jinx averted her gaze, staring into the void in front of her. "You should’ve left me behind, back when there was still time. You and everyone else."
Ekko extended a hand, gently resting it on her shoulder. "If I’d given up on you, I wouldn’t be here now. And you know I’m not the only one."
For a moment, he thought he’d gotten through to her.
"You’re annoying, Ekko," she said, her tone casual but tinged with pain. "Always trying to be the hero."
She turned her gaze back to the void, but the tension in the air didn’t dissipate. After a long pause, she muttered, "You’ve always been good at believing in the impossible."
She tossed the device aside, and Ekko exhaled a small, quiet sigh of relief.
"I don’t just believe," he continued, his voice softer now. "I know because… I’ve seen worlds where impossible things happen. I saw you being more than this. I saw you rebuilding yourself, fighting with us, bringing hope to Zaun, not chaos."
She finally looked at him, narrowing her eyes. "That sounds like another one of your broken-clock stories."
"Maybe it does to you, but it was real to me. I saw what you could be, Jinx. Not a weapon, but someone Zaun needs. Someone I need. You have the power to be more than this pain, more than this mask you wear."
Jinx hesitated, raw pain reflected in her eyes.
"You should hate me, Ekko. Like everyone else does."
"Maybe. But I can’t. And I won’t."
He took another step closer. "I won’t let you lose yourself, Jinx. Not today. Not while I can still stop it."
She took a deep breath, the tension in the air slowly fading.
Without a word, she sat on the edge of the platform, her shoulders less hunched. Ekko joined her, keeping a respectful distance but sitting close enough to let her know he wasn’t going anywhere.
The silence that followed was no longer heavy but carried something new—a truce, perhaps, or a fragile thread of hope. For the first time in a long while, Jinx didn’t feel completely alone.