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Chapter Text

POV: JINX

They had told us for years that we were in a place of progress. Of prosperity. Of wealth. Of power.

Turns out, they were all wrong.

Step, step. My footsteps felt more imposing than ever. Each step across the hill, another step closer to getting revenge on those who wronged me. Revenge on the ones who took my salvation. Revenge on those who had turned my sister into someone who I couldn’t even recognize.

All I wanted was for her to love me again. All I wanted was for that hug to be genuine, for us to be me and her again. Vi and Powder. Just us. 

He had told me she was dead. He had told me that everything was going to shit, that she had disappeared, away from Zaun, away from the Undercity, away from it all.

Step, step.

He hadn’t told me that he had her arrested, in Stillwater, a prison so dangerous that people die there thanks to the conditions.

Step, step.

He hadn’t told me that she was jailbroken by someone. A girl. A Piltie who would have never understood the fact that our parents were slaughtered by the same people she was brainwashed to believe were saviors. The people she believed were keeping peace, the badge she was wearing. Legacy to her, oppression to us.

Step, step.

He hadn’t told me that that girl, that rich bitch, became my sister’s cupcake. My sister, showing more affection to her than she had shown to me in our childhoods. More snuggles, more kisses, more time spent. My sister - forgetting why we struggled. Forgetting what Zaun represents. Forgetting it all.

Step, step.

Then, he used me. Told me that everything was going to be fine, while stabbing me in the back. Using me as a pawn to make peace with Piltover, and their golden boy, Jayce. I snarl as I think of Jayce, the way they used his story as a humble toolmaker in order to make it seem like in Piltover, you can come from anywhere, everywhere, and then everyone will love you. 

Now, he is dead. Now, my sister is gone.

Piltover, the city of progress. Piltover, the city of new beginnings. Piltover, the city of equality.

Piltover, the city where everyone is equal, except if you come from Zaun.

I made it to the top of the hill. The trademark red sky of Zaun covered the night, making everything seem tiny below. Through the haze, I could see my target. The lights shining on the Council meeting, a group of well-dressed elites making small talk that could decide our futures. It seemed so peaceful, so quaint. 

Not anymore.

I took a deep breath before grabbing the gemstone. Full of power, full of life. The very thing that ever since I was a mere child, Piltover fought to ensure no one from Zaun would have access to. Magic was only for the elites, the rich, the desirable. Magic wasn’t for a street thief like me, someone who was known to jinx every job and cause mayhem, havoc and chaos. All we got was loads of Shimmer. All we got was a drug to keep us happy, to keep us from thinking anything was bad in our society. Even though my veins were filled with this drug, it was never enough.

I couldn’t be happy. Not when the world was on fire.

I took the gemstone, grabbed the weapon I had been tinkering with for ages now. Massive, looks like a fish. I nicknamed it “Fishbones”, not because it looked like a fish, but because the thought of it being somewhat similar to Silco, who had recounted to me many times how he nearly drowned, but got strength from that experience, comforted me a little. 

Maybe I could be as strong as he was. He wronged me in the end, but maybe I could be better.

With the gemstone inside Fishbones, a surge of power coursed through the weapon. A flash came through the city, a blinding blue light, electricity sparking through my hands. And as the Shimmer streaks that kept me alive powered up, as my heart raced uncontrollably, I put my finger on the trigger, aimed Fishbones at the windows of the Council, took a deep breath, and let go, my pain being let out in a visceral scream.

The missile was beautiful. A beaming, blue light, shining across the red sky, moving slowly at first towards the Council headquarters, but coming closer and closer, faster and faster, a burst of energy rushing through towards it. I could hear the city light up at the sight of the missile, both Pilties and Zaunites, unsure what this thing was. Was it a shooting star? Was it a comet? Was it a nuclear bomb that would wipe out both cities, nuking hundreds of years of prosperity at the cost of oppression? As it got closer and closer to its intended target, though, the intent became clearer, and I could hear gasps on the side of the river closest to Piltover, and screams of delight on the side of Zaun.

Finally, the window cracked. The missile made its final transformation. And an explosion could be heard from the Council headquarters, destroying the building in a sea of ash. 

After a minute, I perched up my toes, trying to make out what was going on. Seven bodies, on the floor, not breathing. I couldn’t recognize a few, but I did notice that one body on the floor was Mrs. Kirraman, Caitlyn’s mother and one of the most notable people in all of Piltover. Another body belonged to Mel Medarada, a Noxian noble nepotism baby who had come to Piltover so she could be a high-level Piltie instead of a mid-tier Noxian. A few unremarkable Council members that no one cared about or talked about - no one would be talking about that. And finally, at the end of the rubble, was Jayce Talis. Piltover’s golden boy, no longer breathing.

Piltover had no more government. Piltover had no more rulers.

Piltover, as people knew it, was no more. As more people learned the news, devastating to some, liberating to others, I could hear shouts of anger, distrust, and mourning from one side of the river. Their entire world had been shaken up thanks to my act, a ripple effect that would cause Hextech development to stall, and the Piltover money machine to dry up. But then, I turned to the other side of the river. What would they make of this development? No more Council, no more order, no more Enforcers, no more hell. 

But also, no more Silco. No more chem-barons. No more Shimmer production. No more child labor.

Their world had been shaken too. But instead of it being the end of the world for them, it was just another Tuesday. No noise came from Zaun, except for the coughing fit Sevika was in from having her ass whooped by my sister. 

Piltover would probably want me dead. But Zaun didn’t care.

So before any Enforcers could figure out what had gone on, I hid Fishbones in a place no one could see, put a cloak over my tattoos, and rushed myself to the middle of Zaun. 

My home, my lair.

Where no one would bring up what I had just done ever again.

Chapter Text

She cuddled with me all that night. My Cupcake, in my arms, seemingly light as a bird. 

Her heavy breaths made it clear that this was not the case. In her big room, bigger than the entirety of The Last Drop, with ornate decorations everywhere and a comfy bed, I could tell that Caitlyn Kiramann was lost in thought. She wasn’t even looking at me. She wasn’t even acknowledging my presence. She just dazed off, looking at the Piltover streets below, unsure of what to make of this.

Zaun had grown to know warfare. We were used to explosions on our streets, dead kid bodies from being abused because they made too much Shimmer, gang fights, bridge deaths. Half of us had dead parents, another vast percentage of us had dead parental figures. We lost our parents twice. We’ve lost everything to Piltover’s oppression. 

Seeing how Piltover was reacting to the death of their Council was eerily strange. It was their leaders dying. Not their parents, not their closest friends. Yet, people were in the streets, full-on sobbing, taking selfies by the burning building, giving the culprit the middle finger while shedding tear after tear. There was a Jayce Talis shrine in the middle of the city, “City of Progress” mugs laying aplenty by the huge mansion the Talis family now occupied. The Hexgates were shut down, flags draped down in mourning. A collective grief filled the air, yet, there was also rage. Rage at whatever deranged Zaunite fired the missile that killed their beloved heroes. Rage at Zaun in particular, those uncivilized thugs who did absolutely nothing but pretend to be oppressed, yet haunt Piltover with violence, drugs, and crime. 

They were unclean. Trashed. Broke in terms of money, so their behavior must be trash, too.

But while hatred for the one that took Piltover’s stability away started to sweep the rich masses, I couldn’t help but think about the one who did take it away. The target of their anger, the blue-haired girl they didn’t know the name of.

I did. I knew her name, At least, I thought I knew her name for years.

Turns out, not everything you believe is reality. And the people you love can shift and morph and change into deranged psychos, a shell of their former selves.

Jinx, I think to myself, letting the name settle in. Once Powder, the name given to her by her mother. Our mother. A beautiful name, with a beautiful family. 

Then, that day on the river changed things. Our parents, killed before our eyes.

Vander took care of us afterwards. Just me, Powder, Mylo, and Claggor. Ekko tagged along too, and we were all like a happy family. As happy as some people could be around these parts.

All of that fell apart one night. Powder, screaming to me that her monkey bomb finally worked. The bomb that killed Vander. The bomb that killed Mylo. The bomb that killed Claggor.

I called her a jinx after that. I shouldn’t have. I should have been nicer, I shouldn’t have abandoned her, I should have been there for her, to take care of her, to give her a life that she felt like she didn’t deserve.

But instead, those corrupt cops threw me into Stillwater. To rot. To die. 

While my little Powder became unrecognizable.

“Jinx.”, I heard from the other side of the room. It wasn’t a nostalgic tone, or a happy tone at all. It was said with the same venom that had carried the natives of Piltover forward on this night of nights. Like if the speaker could, she’d hunt my sister down and kill her.

I turned towards Caitlyn, who was still not looking at me. Instead, she looked down at the city below, snarling. “She needs to be apprehended.”

“We’re gonna send her to Stillwater?”, I asked. I imagined my sister, confined to a jail cell for her entire life, becoming even more skinny than she was, starving. Of course, she had committed a crime. Killed seven people - eight, including Silco. But even though I knew it was the right thing to do, even though I knew Jinx needed to be stopped, my mind couldn’t stop flickering with memories.

Memories of Powder. My sister. My human. My best friend.

Memories that grinded to a halt when Caitlyn shook her head, her gaze becoming more penetrating. “We need Jinx dead.”

My eyes widened in shock. “Dead?”

“She killed eight people, Vi! Eight families, torn apart, to shreds!”

“I understand, but…”

Caitlyn got up from her bed. Out from my cuddle. Marched over to the balcony overlooking Piltover, the memorials everywhere, rage spilling out from every window, an eerie silence that hung over everyone’s heads.

“She tortured you, Vi. She tortured me. She broke into this very house when I was showering, I was butt naked, and she kidnapped me and strapped me into her deranged tea party!”

“I know, Cait, but…”

She pulled me closer. Mere inches apart from each other. Took her hands, ran them over my hair, and posed me so all I could see were her eyes. Her teary eyes, her broken heart.

“My mother’s dead now.”, she quietly said. “Don’t you know how that feels?”

I wanted to snap at her, I really did. I wanted to tell her that not only did I lose my mom, but I lost my dad, I lost my other dad, I lost my two best friends, and I essentially lost my sister. That Piltover’s worst day was just another day in the life of a Zaunite. Pain and misery. Hurt all over. The entire undercity, bleeding, with new wounds plucked almost every day.

But there was something about the way Caitlyn looked at me. The vulnerability in her eyes. The hurt in her heart. I could tell she was in pain, I knew that what my sister had done was eating at her inside and out.

I also knew Cait. I knew my cupcake, I knew she wouldn’t actually want Jinx dead. I knew she cared about others. That she was kind. That she was willing enough to open her eyes to the rest of the world, that she wanted things to change peacefully.

Maybe if I apprehended Jinx for her, if I caught her and threw her into Stillwater, Caitlyn would come to her senses and spare her life.

And she’d still want me.

With a heaviness in my soul, and my thoughts to my childhood with the one I was agreeing to harm, I looked deep into Caitlyn’s eyes and nodded.

“I do, Caitlyn.”

“Let’s bring this city justice.”

Chapter Text

POV: JINX

“Don’t cry. You’re perfect.”

Those were the last words Silco told me before he passed away. From the bullet I fired.

Me. His daughter. The girl he raised as his own when no one else wanted to give a damn about her.

Perfect. Even though I killed him. Even though I was the one who killed seven others. Even though I’m a murderer, one who’s wrecked lives, destroyed families. In the name of vengeance and freedom for some, like those Pilties, but for others, like the Zaunites I’ve killed in crossfires, Vander, Mylo, Claggor, Silco himself…

I really am a murderer. 

The dictionary definition of “perfect” is having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics. Or, as good as it is possible to be.

The dictionary definition of “good” is “to be desired or approved of”.

Desired. I don’t think a person who put her hands on a weapon when she didn’t mean to, in the middle of a mental breakdown, and killing the person who meant so much to her is desirable behavior.

To be approved of. I don’t think a person who slaughtered seven people, even if it was for the good of all of Zaun, would be approved of. Even in Zaun, they’re just going about their days like nothing ever happened, and Piltover is acting like more people died than just seven. From what I have heard from across the river, they’re having funeral rites. Massive ceremonies to mark the seven deaths. Giving them a much more dignified send-off than just bodies laying waste in the middle of the Lanes. They’re pissed. Zaun, on the other hand, doesn’t even really give a fuck, from what I know. I had been in hiding for the past day or so, but Sevika hadn’t come in and acknowledged anything…

BANG! Suddenly, the door slammed open, and Sevika hurried in, ragged breaths coming from her throat. Still worn down from her fight with Vi. 

“Piltover is on fire right now," she said.

“Yeah? So what? Their entire council died, nothing crazy…”

“And Silco. Whoever did this must have had a death wish. Union of the two cities, peace on Earth? Forget it. It’s probably never going to happen.”

And with that, Sevika laid on the couch, acting so fragile just because she lost one fight. Grabbed a piece of rotten pizza, shoved it down her mouth, and ignored me. 

Did she know I was the one who killed them all?

To distract her from getting that idea, I got off the table and sat on the edge of the couch, my braids getting dangerously close to her pizza. I flung my arm towards her dramatically, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Unified cities. The end of Piltover’s oppression. Freedom. All just as realistic as rainbows and unicorns, at this rate.”

Sevika nodded. “Tell me about it.”

“Now, both cities are in chaos. The Enforcers are probably going to strike harder. Chem-barons are probably going to try to revive the production of Shimmer and get the drug trade going again.”

I let out a sigh, trying to mask my guilt. “And there’s one reason why Piltover is probably going to kill us all.”

Sevika looked up at me, curious. “Which is?”

I grabbed Fishbones and raised him up to the sky. Shards of Hextech radiated from the weapon that I had spent months working on, signifying to Sevika that it had been used in a capacity that was more than testing it.

Her jaw dropped. “No way.”

I nodded, a hint of numbness betraying my attempt at stoicism. “I’m the worst thing that ever happened to the Pilties.”

“Seven dead.”, Sevika repeated. I tried to look away, expecting the kind of berating Silco gave me whenever I killed those Enforcers who were getting in my way and hurting the Zaunites.

Instead, I got a warm smile. “The worst day ever for Piltover is just another day in the life of a Zaunite,” she remarked, getting closer to touching my braids.

“Pretty much,” I retorted back, trying to not talk much. I knew she was okay with the Pilties, but what if she found out that I was the one who killed Silco? Then, she’d absolutely hate me for life. Throw me in the trash heap. Probably kill me herself if she could.

Instead of being yelled at by Sevika, though, she put her arm on my shoulder. My first instinct was to back away - I wasn’t used to physical touch, and I wasn’t sure if Sevika was going to whoop my ass or give me a hug. 

She did neither. She gave me a soft look before she began to speak.

“Hey. You’re feeling regret, aren’t you?”, she asked. 

I gave her a weary nod, lying to her. It wasn’t that I regretted killing those murderous Pilties - they had had it coming for years. It’s that I upended all of Zaun - and now, was fatherless yet again. But again, she wouldn’t understand. If I told her the truth, I’d be dead.

“Don’t feel that way. You’re perfect. What you did was perfect. And who knows? Maybe it will be the catalyst for bigger change in Zaun.”

“You sure? No one has even mentioned the damn thing. And they never will.”

“Have you touched grass in the last 24 hours, or is it that the voices in your head haven’t said a damn positive thing about the service you just did to the entirety of Runeterra?”

I shake my head. “Haven’t touched grass in the last 24 hours.”

Sevika put her hand off my shoulder and approached the small window inside The Last Drop. She let it open a bit, trying to make as clear of a view as possible with the tint and broken glass that had accumulated within the window in the past decade or so.

Once it was clear enough, she motioned me over. “Don’t be so sure.”

What I saw next blew my mind forever.

Chapter Text

POV: ISHA

When you’re a kid growing up in the Lanes, there’s only two things that are waiting for you. Certain death, or slaving away in the mines, working for chem-barons, until they kill you or you get killed because of a factory explosion.

It had been a year since my best friend was dealt the ultimate fate of a kid growing up in the Lanes. Her name was Debby, and she had long, red hair, big blue eyes, and always tended to look on the bright side of things. She didn’t do anything out of line for a chem-baron to piss her off. She always accepted her fate, did her work, and never did anything that was too reckless. 

But explosions don’t discriminate. And when the explosion that day killed Debby, as well as so many of my other friends, I couldn’t handle myself. 

Every time I went to sleep, I thought of the explosion. Every time I tried to go back to work, I got scared, because I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want any more of my friends to die. I tried to move on, like everyone else did. I tried to be just a kid, accept my fate, do my work. It was impossible. I tried to get better, but I couldn’t. 

Eventually, the scariness from the explosion cost me my voice. I never was able to speak a word ever again, because the horrors I had seen had taken it away. Surprisingly, I used to be a chatterbox. I was always cracking jokes to make our situation a little bit lighter, I was always confident and reckless, the one that would be most likely to stand up to our bosses when they were out of line, always speaking up for someone or something. But that day, when I lost my voice, I thought to myself: “Will this forever be our fate? Or will I be able to grow up in a world where I don’t have to slave away in a chem-baron’s lair for the rest of our lives?”

Which brings us to today. It started as just a normal day. I was heading to work, begrudgingly, not happy at all to be there. But then I started to hear whispers. Not the normal whispers of death, or whispers of terror, or whispers of Piltover or the chem-barons doing us wrong again. 

Whispers of hope. Whispers of freedom. 

“Did you see that?”, I heard from one side of the Lanes. “What is that?”, said another voice. I scanned the alley, trying to see what they were talking about. Nothing abnormal in the streets, nothing abnormal in the factories… but wait… what was that in the sky?

It was a rocket. A big, blue rocket, heading straight towards the Piltover council.

My eyes widened upon the sight of the rocket. We knew full well that Piltover was the reason Zaunites were forced into such barbaric brutality, the Council acting like they were Gods among us, more important than literally everyone else in the world. A world without the Council… Was that what the rocket was for? Is that where it was going to land?

I moved my small body across the Lanes, settling in on a hill I was able to climb to see the spectacular display that was above me. A few other people were on the hill, their gazes fixed on the sky, the missile, how close it was getting… dangerously close…

CRACK. I could hear the windows of the Piltover council’s headquarters break. The entire place went up in an explosion. 

There was a bit of a collective sigh of relief from everyone around me. I could tell they wanted to hug their friends, cheer, or do something like that. But even though the Council was no more, the Enforcers were probably going to be more brutal. More bloodthirsty. Ready to kill any Zaunite they suspected of being the one who killed their lovely Council. 

I jumped off the hill, remembering I had to get to work - there was no time to celebrate. I scurried across the Lanes, getting to the factory I had made my home in for the short eight years of my life. As I made my walk, however, I could tell there was an energy unseen in the entire town for, I don’t know, as long as I’ve lived. Usually, the Lanes were all doom and gloom, people killing each other, people starving, dead on the streets. But right now, the Lanes were filled with subtle, quiet, joy. No one was dying. No explosions from the other chem-baron factories. What is going on? , I thought to myself, before I approached Chross’s factory - the hellhole I had lived in for years - and saw a crowd of my fellow kid factory workers, whispering to each other, no one daring to go inside.

I approached the nearest worker, and tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Once I got it, I signed, “What’s going on?”

“What is she saying?”, he asked. 

Luckily, the worker next to him understood my sign language, “She’s asking what’s going on.”

“Oh. Silco’s dead. Chross is dead. All the chem-barons are dead.”

At the words “all the chem-barons are dead,” my mouth hung open in shock. 

Really? This is it? We’re free?

Knowing that we wouldn’t have to go to work ever again, my heart pumped with joy, and I started to run. Run far, far away from the factory. From the place that gave me so many scars. From the place that had hurt me, caused me so much pain. 

Now, thanks to the actions of the person who killed the Council and the chem-barons, we didn’t have to work anymore. And we actually had a shot at true freedom from Piltover.

But one thing remained on my mind. Who was our hero? Who was the person who fired the shot, who got the missile to kill the Council, who ended the factory oppression?

The next day, I got my answer.

A crowd had gathered at the square, where Piltover had plastered “Wanted” posters of our hero. A blue haired girl, not older than twenty, looked like a menace from the Piltover propaganda. Definitely a Zaunite. Tattoos all over her arms and body. Carrying a weapon that looked just like the one that ended the Council’s lives.

“WANTED BY PILTOVER’S FINEST ENFORCERS: THE CRIMINAL KNOWN AS JINX

LEGAL NAME: POWDER LASTNAMEUNKNOWN

CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY

TERRORISM

MURDER

TORTURE

TRESPASSING

OTHER ASSORTED CRIMES AGAINST PILTOVER

CALL 555-555-5555 FOR 1 MILLION SOLID COINS”

The crowd murmured, but no one spoke of the one million solid coin reward. No one dared to speak ill of Jinx. No one rolled their eyes, no one called her a psycho. Instead, everyone stared at the wanted posters, mouths agape, eyes wide, in reverence.

Finally, one person knelt down towards the poster and raised their fist. “WE’LL FIGHT FOR JINX!”

The echoes of the shout became inescapable. Everyone else shouted along them, kneeling towards the poster, raising their fists, a newfound sense of energy and connection towards their hero. Pride that someone had the guts to stand up to Piltover’s Council and Zaun’s elites. A sense of devotion, devotion that could result in change actually happening.

A world where no one like Debby would be killed by an Enforcer or a chem-baron ever again.

As I knelt towards the poster and raised my fist, a newfound sense of purpose started to fill me. Jinx HAD to free us once and for all. Jinx HAD to save us. If she were to liberate Zaun, then our lives would be changed forever, and it would cause such great things to happen for everyone in this town. Maybe this entire world.

I couldn’t yell the words everyone else was yelling. But as I locked eyes with the poster, a thought came to my head. A loud thought, louder than the traumas that had filled my head for the last year. 

“ I NEED TO FIND JINX!”

Chapter Text

POV: JINX

That fateful day, I found myself outside of my lair for the first time in days. A cloak touched my neck, hiding my braids. A face mask touched my mouth and the bridge of my nose, my face unseen to anyone who might have wanted to stare. I would have wanted to go outside earlier than when I ended up in the smoky Zaun air, but Piltover’s goons were probably onto me. No, they were definitely on to me. The moment I stepped outside, I saw “WANTED” posters with a crudely-done drawing of me. A dead-inside gaze in my eyes, a facial expression that suggested that I was incapable of empathy. It made me look devious. Like a killing machine. Sure, some could consider me a killing machine, but then, you’d have to give the Enforcers the same honor. And no one in Piltover would ever want to admit it. So instead, they praise the Pilties, demonize the Zaunites, while killing ten times more of us than we’ve killed them.

Say, a Piltie killed Silco, or Vander, or anyone else who I had cursed with my presence, jinxed to death, monkey-bombed to oblivion. If a Piltie killed any of Zaun’s leaders, it would be the greatest day on Runeterra ever. The person who sealed the kill would be hailed as a hero. Festivals would be given in their honor. They’d get riches beyond belief, even a seat on the Council, because they were brutal towards the ones that they had seen as subhuman. As Zaunite trash. No money drug addict criminals who deserved to be locked up in Stillwater to rot and die. But a Zaunite is angered at the corruption that had allowed her own father to betray her, the pain that the Council had put on her people, and now the wanted signs come out for just seven people?

Interesting to see how their priorities are laid.

I took a few steps towards the edge of the city, to try to get some food for me and Sevika to eat. As I took those steps, I could feel the stares of all of Zaun, located in a central position. Me. Apparently I hadn’t covered my hair good enough, or my eyes were too bright. Some people were gawking, others were probably looking at the Wanted poster, and then back at me, unsure what to do or how to make me. Were they going to report me to the Enforcers? Was I going to die right in that instant, being yelled at for my crimes, thrown out into the Lanes, injected with excess Shimmer to drug me up and then murder me that way? 

Well, there wasn’t really a reason for me to live anymore. Vander had been dead for years. Mylo and Claggor, up there with him. Silco was dead now, and Vi had abandoned me for life to be with that Piltie girl. 

Maybe it would be fine if an Enforcer caught me. Or if a Zaunite class traitor seeking a prize and heroic status by their oppressors gunned me down and brought the body back to the burning bricks of what was once known as the Piltovian council.

Once I approached the food stand, I swore to myself that it would take as quick as possible. Just give the coin, get the slice of meat, and rush back to Sevika. For the most part, the exchange was that quick - and for some reason, the shopkeeper gave me two extra slices. For free. I asked, “Why?”, unsure of the reason for his hospitality. He shrugged, gave me a smile and said, “Thank you.”

Thank you? , I thought to myself. For what?

That’s when I heard the footsteps. The tiny footsteps of a child, almost reminiscent of the chases I had gone on at that age. With Vi, and Mylo, and Claggor… no, don’t think about that, you’re Jinx, not Powder.... 

“GRR!” 

I snapped back to reality when I felt a hand tug the end of my braid, and a noise coming from behind. I turned around, and it was a child. About seven or eight, with short brown hair and a hat with doodles all over it. Dirt, soot and Shimmer was all over her face, the tellings of a factory worker. Was she lost? Did she need her mommy or her daddy? What was this kid doing with my hair?

“You know, kid, you aren’t supposed to play with stranger’s hair.”, I snarked. 

At that comment, the kid lit up. Her eyes widened, her mouth hung open. A tear started to come from her eye - though I could tell, for some reason, it was out of happiness, not fear or grief. She made another little grunt, which I couldn’t make out the meaning of, and twirled around. Glad to know she isn’t lost , I thought, before I left the food stand, this random ass kid following my every move.

I walked for five minutes through the entirety of the Lanes, yet the kid wouldn’t leave my side. She wouldn’t say a word. She would only make happy little noises, walking right next to me, pulling at my cloak, never leaving my side. Did she think I was her mommy? Did I look like her mommy? My face was partially obscured by that mask, anyway. Maybe if I took it off, she’d be able to realize I wasn’t her mother, and she could get back to whatever hole she came from…

“What do you want?”, I asked the kid, taking off the face mask and lowering my cloak.

The kid was in awe. She made the biggest grin I had ever seen a Zaunite child make, before taking her hands and using them to sign some words. 

I didn’t have the greatest grasp on sign language. Me and a boy I used to know when I was younger, Ekko, learned some signs so we could talk to each other without our older friends knowing what we were talking about, but I was a little rusty. I couldn’t recognize most of the signs, but I did recognize the sign for “help me” - a fist with a thumb up on one hand, being lifted up by the other. 

“You need help?”

The kid shook her head. “ We need help.”, she signed.

“We?”

She nodded, then made the sign for Zaun.

“Zaun needs help?”

The kid jumped up and down.

“With what? I can’t really help with much…”

The kid stopped jumping. Frowned a little. Gave me a look, as if I were to understand what she was saying right away. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

She sighed. Punched the air. Turned her fists into a weapon, kind of like Fishbones, and aimed it towards Piltover.

Then, she spun around. One spin, or scientifically, one revolution.

Revolution? Nah, she can’t mean that. She’s a kid. She probably doesn’t know what that means.

I continued my walk home, eventually getting to the Last Drop. But the kid followed me every step of the way. Kept making noises the whole way there. Not saying a single word, just enjoying being around me. 

Why would anyone want to be around me? Especially a kid?

Once I opened up the door, Sevika was waiting by the bar, and the kid followed me inside. 

“See you’ve got a house pet.”, Sevika remarked.

I shrugged. “This kid won’t stop following me around. She doesn’t speak, but she made some signs. Imitated me firing at Piltover. Said Zaun needs help. Though I’m not sure why she’d want my help.”

As the kid frowned, Sevika came closer to me. “Don’t tell me you’re that stupid. You walked across the entire Lanes and you didn’t notice what they were buzzing about?”

“Buzzing?”, I replied. “I haven’t heard any buzzing at all.”

“Not literal buzzing!” Sevika snapped back. “The kid is right. Zaun needs you.”

“For what?”, I asked, starting to have had it with the vague comments about Zaun and the stares and the adulation. “Why is everyone treating me so damn weird?”

“Because you’re their Loose Cannon!”, Sevika yelled.

“What the fuck does that mean?”, I asked.

Chapter Text

POV: VI

As the bright blue flare zoomed past the skies of Piltover, all I could find the strength to do was freeze. Stare, looking with agony at the path the missile was taking. 

My heart dropped. Pounded a million times a minute as the rocket, eerily similar to the one that had killed my Cupcake’s mother, similar to the one that my sister fired to stick it to Piltover, moved across the skies, inched closer to the caskets that were laid in front of the agape masses.

Was it Jinx again? My sister, not giving her kills the decency of a funeral, of a few last goodbyes to their families and loved ones? I knew she wasn’t my sister anymore, but at least she wouldn’t be crazy enough to blow up dead bodies. They were already dead, for crying out loud! What did these people want?

Caitlyn gripped onto my shoulder as the missile landed on top of the caskets, destroying them to bits. Together, we ducked under cover, copying the motions of the crowd that had come for the funeral. The entire city was trying to not be struck, to be safe, to get by without a scratch, or even worse, certain death. But even as we all ducked under cover, my eyes were trained on the remains of the caskets. Dead body parts strewn everywhere, dried-up blood spilling over. It was already a tragedy that the seven members of our Council were taken out in such a barbaric way. Now, as the smoke cleared up and we came up for cover, I could feel Caitlyn’s tears, landing on my fingers. While I was frozen, Caitlyn was shaking like a leaf. Unable to comprehend what she had just seen. Like another wound to her heart, another stab to her chest.

It was like Caitlyn Kiramman was already dead. Just like her mother, who she was robbed of at least one chance to say goodbye to.

Once the crowd cleared up, it was just me, her and Ambessa, Mel’s mother, who’s rage was even more pronounced than Caitlyn’s at that point. While me and Cait tried to stay calm, trying not to look at the remains from the attack so we wouldn’t have to have our heart shot out for the third time in the past forty-eight hours, Ambessa charged forward, past the bodies, past the blood, and eventually, found the now-powerless missile that had caused the tragedy.

After inspecting the missile, Ambessa sighed, sitting down on the bloodied ground. “It doesn’t look like it’s the same type that killed them.”

Confused, Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “It’s not the same thing? It acted the same, caused the same damage, targeted the same people, the same city. Jinx had to have done it.”

Ambessa gave Caitlyn a look, holding up the missile. The weapon didn’t have any creative designs or imagery on the sides. Just a plain old weapon, with no sparkle or theatrics. If there was anything I knew about Jinx, it wasn’t just that she killed people for no reason. She always made murder, torture, the likes, a show. 

This wasn’t a show - this was a pure copycat.

But who would want to copy my sister?

“Looks like a knockoff.”, I snarked, causing Cait to turn towards me in the same bout of confusion. “A knockoff?”, she asked, unsure why someone would even want to copy my sister. “Why?” 

Before I could explain the differences between something that I could tell was a Zaun-Mart version of my sister’s antics and the real deal, Ambessa turned the missile around. “It looks like there’s a message on here.”

A message? , I thought to myself. Maybe this was my sister’s doing after all…

The two of us, hand in hand, carefully approached Ambessa and the missile, trying to read the messy handwriting. It was somehow messier than my sister’s, which was a new record, considering how messy her handwriting could get. I could make out the word “LONG”... couldn’t figure out the rest… turned to Caitlyn to see if she could figure it out…

“Long Live The Loose Cannon?” She read out loud, her eyes widening. “Who the fuck’s the Loose Cannon?”

Suddenly, I felt like passing out as my brain started computing things. The Loose Cannon was something that the inmates at Stillwater secretly called Jinx. All the petty crimes she conducted, all the thievery and Shimmer smuggling and murder that she had gotten herself into. Some crimes were worse than the thing that got us all into Stillwater. For example, in my case, I was arrested the second Vander, Mylo and Claggor were killed. Once I was alone, the Enforcers came towards me, and behind bars I was for seven entire years. For those seven years, I had grown accustomed to stories about the Loose Cannon, the girl that did worse things than all of us combined, yet never got arrested or dealt with. Some of my fellow inmates were thrown in jail for eating food they weren’t supposed to, for running away from the Chem Barons, any minor thing like that. But my sister? She was allergic to jail! She was a free, flying bird. A Loose Cannon. Never arrested, always free, always wreaking havoc.

It had to have been someone recently released from Stillwater who was inspired by Jinx’s actions.

But why would they be inspired by Jinx’s cruelty?

That night, I grabbed Caitlyn’s laptop, trying to look more into this mess. Trying to compute why someone from Stillwater would want to copy the brutality that Jinx had put upon the entirety of Piltover. With Caitlyn by my side, looking rather determined as I made our search for answers, I typed out as fast as I could: “ Loose Cannon - Zaun”

What I saw next blew my mind. Countless results came up. Unsurprisingly, all of Jinx, but surprisingly, worshipping her.

There were drawings of Jinx raising her fist in the sky, with explosions in the background and a slogan. “FREEDOM FOR ZAUN.”

News articles everywhere - “WHO IS THE LOOSE CANNON?”

“FINALLY, PILTOVER MEETS ITS MATCH!”

“THE LOOSE CANNON STRIKES ON PILTOVER AGAIN!”

“ZAUN WILL BE FREE!”

Despite the fact I couldn’t figure out who exactly caused today’s attack on Piltover, the motivations were inescapable, as well as Zaun’s true feelings about the girl that they had adopted as their Loose Cannon. I couldn’t quite comprehend their reasons for calling her a hero and the bringer of freedom - why would they trust Jinx with such a heavy role? All she did was kill a few Councilmembers to get back at them for breaking her relationship with Silco. She didn’t really care that much about Zaun’s well being, why did they think she was the one who caused today’s attack and was going to free them just because of a mere copycat? 

“It’s clear they idolize her.”, Caitlyn declared. “This just gives us more reason to seek her out and get justice for what she did to our Council.”

“Absolutely,” I replied with a bit of trepidation. Sure, Jinx was the reason the seven council members were dead. But wasn’t it this wacko cult of personality that started up the reason why the funeral was attacked? 

Did she even ask for it? Did she even have anything to do with it?
Nah, I thought to myself. I know she wouldn’t stoop that low.

Little did I know that my thoughts that night were just naive ones.

Chapter Text

POV: JINX

“They blew up the fucking FUNERAL?,” I asked, my jaw open upright.

With a sigh, Sevika nodded. “It was a copycat attack on Piltover. Wasn’t connected to you, but people across Zaun are assuming that it is. And that you’re going to lead a revolution to free them from the Council.”

I laughed. I laughed so hard that I would look like a maniac to anyone watching who didn’t know me. Who am I kidding? That kid following me around like a housepet probably thought that I looked scary and wanted to run away at that point. But as I turned to her, shockingly, she didn’t. She stayed around, staring. With those doe-wide eyes, that smile. She was looking at me like I was Zaunite Jesus, though to everyone else, I was just a psycho maniac.

Or at least I thought.

Apparently not.

I went across the bar and made myself a drink. An unidentified illegal substance of some sort, mixed with some Shimmer. Once it was done, I sat down, took a big swig of the drink, and blankly stared at the jukebox, expecting the conversation to go elsewhere. For Sevika to, I don’t know, act normal. Talk about some beef she had with a Chem-baron. Make a sassy remark that if Silco was still around, none of this would be happening. 

Instead, she stared at me. Without a word. Expecting me to react to the news of, I don’t know, Zaun acting weird about me. She probably expected me to smile and be like, “Wow, thank you! I happily accept leading this entire place in an uprising, and I definitely didn’t kill your boss!” 

I was still silent. I kept drinking, to avoid having to speak. Not because the drink was the greatest substance ever, but because keeping up with it would mean Sevika would at least have an excuse to not talk to me. But instead of Sevika talking, it was the kid who initiated the conversation. Of course, the kid never spoke, but she came up to me, climbed up on my back, and pouted a little bit. 

“The kid really likes you,” Sevika quipped.

With a heavy sigh, I nodded. Ever since this kid laid sight on me, she wouldn’t get off my back, figuratively and literally. She kept looking at me, expectantly, hoping that I’d be the hero all of Zaun wanted, hoping that I’d be able to do something about her problems. 

If the kid knew who I truly am, she’d be disappointed.

The kid kept holding on, hugging my back, smiling like I was her mother. But I had nothing to do with her. I hadn’t even met her until today. What was she doing here, in the bar, acting like I was some goddamn hero?

Finally, I held the kid’s hand, turning to her. “You know, I’m not who you think I am.”

The kid’s smile turned to a little pout. She got off my back, dusted herself off, and crossed her arms, staring at me blankly. If the kid could speak, she’d be insisting that I was the bringer of happiness to Zaun, that with every fire I’d spark, I’d free the people. Or some cheesy, saccharine stuff like that.

“Have you told them I’m not interested?”, I asked Sevika. She got herself her own drink and shook her head, her gaze radiating a feeling of disappointment. “I don’t think you have much of a choice, Jinx.”

I raised my eyebrow, anger coming from within. “So I have to lead a bunch of people I’ve never met before in some stupid rebellion I honestly don’t care much about, and be seen as a hero, and a symbol, and I don’t know, cause more people to die?”

Right then and there, I heard the sound of a prosthetic arm hitting the bar counter. 

“People are already dying!,” Sevika snapped. “The Zaunites are growing restless. They’re attacking Piltover, with or without you. You’ve inspired them, whether you like it or not!”

“Just because I was angry that Silco died and that my sister chose that Piltie bitch over her own family?”, I snapped. Sure, I targeted the Council because I believed that a better society was necessary. But I didn’t expect to be the face of a goddamned revolution!

Sevika’s rage softened, and she gave me a blank look. “They don’t care about your reasoning.”

“For years, these people have suffered at the hands of Piltover. They’ve wanted change, but every time they get a chance, that change gets crushed. Your mother and father-”

Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks. I didn’t hear anything else that Sevika said - but she was right. My parents. The glue of my family, the people that kept Vi and I together. Back in the old days, when we were kids. Trying to make the best of the cards we were dealt. They always kept us happy, sure, but when we were asleep, they fought with Vander for a better society. But then, they were outnumbered. Piltover Enforcers crushed them one after another. The bodies started to drop, my parents were dead on the bridge that day. Vander took us in, and he died, too. Silco betrayed me, and he ended up dead. Though with every passing day, I started to regret it.

And now what? I killed the man who raised me, and now the people saw me as a hero. I killed seven oppressors, and now they were worshipping me. 

From what I knew about rebellion, rebellion was a dangerous game. Especially rebellion if it was led by the person who kept crushing the people she loved.

As I thought, the kid got closer to me. Did those puppy-dog eyes, the ones that kids do to have their way. I looked away, not because I didn’t want the kid influencing me, but I couldn’t stand the thought of messing up. Of jinxing this movement, just like I’ve jinxed everything else I’ve been a part of. Every family I’ve had.

What if the kid died fighting for me? 

She had so much life to live, so much joy to give to the world.

She couldn’t waste her tiny body. Her precious, innocent heart. Those eyes. Those cute little eyes. 

They couldn’t be wasted on me.

I looked back at Sevika, put the drink away, and with a firm expression, shook my head no.

“I can’t curse this beautiful city.”

Chapter Text

POV: EKKO

”Powder?” The name escaped my lips, like a faint memory. 

No. Her name wasn’t Powder. It was Jinx now. We had fought on the bridge. She almost killed me. 

She almost died that night.

At first, I wasn’t even sure she had survived that attack. The black stains on her face, the blood covered all over. She was lifeless. Pretty much a goner. 

Maybe her old man pumped her up with some Shimmer - after all, Silco’s drug empire couldn’t afford losing Powder. Her exploitation was the crux of everything that man ever did - the bullets she fired for his sake, the devoted loyalty that she showed him.

But if she was so loyal, why did she kill him? Why was Silco dead, and Powder - Jinx, my mind corrected itself - being hailed as a hero by the Zaunites? A savior? A messiah?

“The Firelights have been working to bring a world without Silco and without Piltovian oppression for how long now?” I snarked as another Firelight showed me the grainy pictures. I couldn’t see much, but from what I could make out, Zaun had gone all out for Jinx. An icon of rebellion, fist raised, smoky explosives, a scrawny slogan. 

This wasn’t the work of Silco’s empire. This wasn’t the work of any Chem Baron. This was a random person’s drawing. The will of Zaun. 

This is what they wanted. But I had no clue why they wanted it. 

“Why Powder?”, I asked, my eyebrow raised. I didn’t even think twice about calling her Powder, the comment slipping out fast.

The Firelight shrugged. “Apparently there was an attack on the Piltovian council. Everyone died.”

“The entire Council - murdered. Yeah, I do recall that.”

“It was Jinx. The device gave it away. Apparently, she was so hurt by Silco’s willingness to give her up in exchange for more independence that she killed him, essentially neutralizing the Chem-Barons, and then killed the entire Council.”

I stopped. “Wait. So she didn’t do anything more to warrant the entirety of Zaun adopting her as their revolutionary symbol?”

“Beats me.”, the Firelight said with a blank expression on their face. “They just want hope.”

As the word “hope” was said, I couldn’t help myself. My mind flashed to images of the past - of a happier time, when Benzo was still alive, when I was friends with Vi, Powder, Mylo, Claggor, the whole gang. We explored the Lanes, heisted Piltover, and were able to contain some semblance of joy even as the rest of the world was burning around us. 

Back then, things were a lot simpler. A friend was a friend, and a friend was someone to be trusted. Powder cared about me. I cared about her. Together, we went on all sorts of adventures. Shared secrets that we swore wouldn’t tell the other kids. And through it all, we were able to give each other company - and hope. 

Hope that eventually, the world will get better.

Then, Vander was killed, and Vi was jailed. Silco saw the distress that Powder was in, was able to successfully manipulate her, and soon enough, started using her for his purposes. 

When Silco first took Powder in, I couldn’t help but feel guilty. Silco, the most hated man in all of Zaun, yet the most feared. Powder didn’t have her family, her sister, or even her friends. But if I was there - if I was able to protect her from Silco, if I was able to prevent Vi from being captured, then none of it would have happened. I wasn’t sure what Silco was going to do to my good friend - would he torture her? Kill her? 

What actually happened was worse than anything I could have imagined. 

One day, I decided to do the unthinkable. I snuck into Silco’s lair, thinking that this would be it. I would get Powder back, rescue her from Silco, take the drug lord down once and for all. 

When I arrived in Silco’s room, there was no sign of him. All I saw was Powder, sitting on his table. 

I bolted in, a smile on my face. “Powder!”

No reaction from my friend. Not even an acknowledgement that I was there.

“It’s me! Ekko!”

She didn’t even turn. Didn’t even budge.

“I’m here to rescue you!”

She turned towards me, eyes wide with anger. “I don’t want to be rescued. I’m Jinx now.”

A slap then flew across my face like I had committed the worst crime possible.

Thinking about what happened that day, my heart started to race. Jinx? The Jinx that put the love of some strange man over the love of her closest pal? Leading a rebellion? That didn’t sound right. Did she even consent to her image being used like this?

When I asked that question, the Firelight shook their head. “Me and a few others went into The Last Drop for drinks. There was some kid, Sevika… but no Jinx.”

“Sevika? What was she doing there? Did she know anything?”

They winced a bit. “When I confronted Sevika, she said that Jinx wasn’t interested. But the way she said it… she wasn’t too happy about her not wanting to do anything with it.”

“Even if it meant freeing all of Zaun from Piltover?”

“She’s alone now. The person she was closest to is gone, her sister chose a Piltie over her. I don’t think she wants to live , let alone lead. ”

A small sense of pity formed in my chest. Now, I didn’t even feel confused or angry that the people of Zaun chose her as the symbol of their liberation cause - the cause I had been fighting for for ages. All I wanted was for her to, somehow, come to her senses. Realize that this wasn’t all about her, that the people needed her now. That she couldn’t just wallow in her lair, making weapons.

Even if I tried to fill the shoes that the people of Zaun were giving her, it wouldn’t work. 

It had to be her. 

And even though it would hurt, I’d have to talk to her.

“I’m going to The Last Drop. Need anything?”

Chapter Text

POV: JINX

A knock on the door. A loud, obnoxious knock, reminiscent of someone about to bust down the door. 

At the noise, I immediately tensed up. “Enforcers? Already?”

Sevika shrugged, while the kid who had been following me around forever scrammed around and hid. “You’re the face of a rebellion. You murdered the Council. They think you bombed the funeral. No shit they want you dead!”

Today, I wouldn’t have minded dying. I had nothing left. So much nothing left that I had gotten sick of thinking about how I had nothing left. My mind, playing a sick ritual, a constant war between what could have been and what was actually happening. 

What was even real? What were the meanings behind my emotions? Why did I feel trapped, even though I was able to get revenge on everybody who had ever wronged me?

“Powder?”

Why do I still feel like a monster?

“POWDER?”

Why are people even looking at me this way?

“POWDER!” The door burst open, and a familiar face appeared from the doorway. A man who I once knew, who I had fought days prior, who once brought such joy in my life, but now only brought misery and pain. What was he doing here? Just days ago, he was firing at me, rooting for my downfall. Now, he was at my doorstep, trying to strike up a conversation!

“Ekko?”

His familiar brown eyes gazed into mine as he shrugged his shoulders and entered the room. “Hey, Pow-Pow.”

“I told you. Don’t call me that.”

“You can’t control what I say,” Ekko retorted back. He went to the bar, poured himself some water, and sat down, right next to where the kid was hiding. 

I rolled my eyes as I saw Ekko sit down, with nothing but a measly glass of water. “We have all the alcohol in Zaun, and you want pure, fresh water? Really, Ekko?”

Ekko relaxed a bit. “I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Maybe you could taste a bit of the Shimmer cocktail.”, I quipped back. “Firelight.”

A hearty laugh from Ekko, followed by a head-shake and a change in his demeanor. More serious, somehow. Like what he came here to do was something important.

Important? Why would he come here for something important?

“We need you, Powder. Um, Jinx. Whatever -”

“First of all, it’s Jinx now. Powder fell down a well. A long time ago.”

Ekko straightened, regretting his words. “Right. Jinx. Not Powder. Sorry.”

“Go on,” I cued him, as the kid got closer to the two of us.

“We need you!”, he said, raising his voice.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, to end Piltover’s oppression once and for all?”

“The entire Council is DEAD!”

“I’ve heard rumors of a military dictatorship!”

“Of course there’s going to be a military dictatorship! That’s all Piltover knows how to do! Kill Zaunites, drug us, make us feel like shit!”

“If you don’t do anything about it, so many will die!”

BANG! I flicked Ekko’s water bottle across the counter, grabbing it into my hands. I cracked the glass a little bit, threw it at the wall. Broken shards collected themselves upon the walls, as well as a water spill. Ekko looked bewildered, shocked all over his face. 

Before I could speak, Ekko looked away from me and cleared his throat. “I knew you wouldn’t have done anything about it. All you care about is yourself.”

I hardened at his words. “I care about more than myself!”

“Then what do you care about? Drugs? Explosions? Bombs?”

“Being free.” 

This got a quizzical look from Ekko, as if I was talking a different language or some shit. “Being free? And then you refuse to do anything about the rebellion happening in your name? Refuse to help, refuse to lead? Refuse to do absolutely anything?”

I sighed. “Look, Ekko. It’s complicated.”

“What’s complicated? The fact that this entire city now looks up to you, and you choose to do nothing about it? Or the fact that everyone here is going to get killed because of your act of rebellion?”

“Killing the council wasn’t an act of rebellion!”

“To the people of Zaun, yes it was -”

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. 

All of a sudden, three gunshots. Right outside the Last Drop. It didn’t sound like the guns that the chem barons had once used, or anything any citizen of Zaun would have been able to scrape together. 

“What was that?”, I asked, unsure what was going on.

Ekko grabbed me by my waist. “What are you doing?”, I asked.

As he scooped me up, Sevika grabbed her weapons, and the little kid hid between the two of us. Everyone else, ready for battle. Ready to end the life of whoever was at the door. Ready to strike. Ready to hunt. Ready to defend the glory and honor of the Zaunite rebellion. 

A rebellion I wanted no part in.

A few more gunshots outside, which caused a cocky look from Sevika. “What now, assholes? Don’t you even care to knock?”

“Maybe it’s just a fight happening outside,” I casually snarked, trying to deflect from the fear that was starting to numb up my bones. 

But this was no fight happening outside. It had nothing to do with gangs, or drugs, or any of the petty squabbles that consumed the streets of Zaun for the entirety of my life.

The door eventually fell down. Another gunshot flew into the Last Drop, which me and Ekko were able to deflect.

But as Ekko scrambled away, with me in his arms, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Enforcers - three of them - barge inside the building. Ignore Sevika, ignore her weapons. Pay no attention to Ekko, or the fact that he was hiding me the best he could.

No. The Enforcers scrambled to the bar counter, found the kid who was standing nearby, and pushed their guns into her line of sight.

An aim that could end her life before it began.

All because of me.

Chapter Text

POV: ISHA

Gunfire. All I could hear at that moment was gunfire.

The Enforcers were twitching their guns in my vicinity. Aiming ever so close to my body, fingers on the trigger. 

I could feel the scent of death in the air. Like my life was about to end, despite the fact that I had barely experienced any of it. The blood, the ashes, the ending of life. The familiar stench filled the mines every single day, and it had gotten to the point where a day without death didn’t feel like a real day at all. Even so, death still hurts. We never got desensitized to it. Every bullet to the heart, a blow to all who worked with them.

But then, Jinx fired the rocket, and everything changed. No more chem-barons, no more Piltover Council. For a minute, there was hope. For a minute, it felt like we’d eventually be free.

Turns out freedom is nothing more than just having hope for a minute, and then having that hope ripped immediately away.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to ground myself. The Enforcers were getting closer, thirsting for my blood. I could feel their cocky, stupid smirks come from underneath their helmets. Muttering under their breath, “That’s a kid.” “That’s easy prey.” “Time to take out that piece of Zaunite scum.” 

I tried to be brave. Before she died, my mama always told me that being brave in the face of danger, especially the oppression of the Enforcers, was the best thing I could do. Any bravery that we’d have against them was a hope to fight another day. Hope for a better future.

Hope that one day, we'll be free.

So what did I do? I bottled that hope in my heart. Jumped right to that Enforcer jerk - and punched him straight in the face.

“OW!”, I could hear the Enforcer exclaim. Despite his stoic disposition, he seemed caught off guard by the fact that I wasn’t backing down. That deep down, despite all his fancy gadgets and Hextech weapons and whatnot, he was afraid of the will of the people of Zaun.

The fire that Jinx ignited in all of our hearts.
“Where is Jinx?”, the Enforcer then asked, fuming. Even if I was keen enough to betray my savior, I couldn’t say a word - after all, I couldn’t speak. 

Instead, I climbed. I climbed onto the counter of this unfamiliar bar, trying to get a better aim in. My first punch was weak - the Enforcer was thrice my size - but if I was able to get a better shot in, maybe he’d leave me alone. 

He did not leave me alone. Instead, he fired a few bullets towards my chest. I jumped off the counter, hid beneath the cupboards. The bullets hit a few cups, causing the glass to shatter. I tried to dodge the shards scattered across the counter, but one stuck into my elbow, causing a smattering of blood to edge itself across my arm.

Crap. , I thought. All of this resistance against the Enforcers, and my life might end because of a broken glass.

Suddenly, my thoughts dissipated. The Enforcer jumped the counter, grabbed another glass, broke it in tiny little pieces, and threw it in my corner. I got up, tried to shrug it off, but the stinging sensation of small bloodmarks everywhere made it nearly impossible to fight back. 

Satisfied, the Enforcer aimed his weapon, about to fire right in my face. “Goodbye, child,” he muttered, as I felt a watery sensation in my eye - a tear.

It’s hard being a kid growing up in the Lanes. All the loss, all the death, all the pain. The explosive battles, the chem-barons forcing you to work. 

For a small second, I thought I had hope. Turns out that hope was stomped on and beaten up by the Enforcers…

As I heard the Enforcer pull the trigger, I didn’t even flinch. It got closer and closer to my heart. I didn’t move. I didn’t fight. I didn’t do anything about it.

Fighting back was something that all of Zaun had been itching to do for a while now. At least put up a tiny fight before Piltover shuts you up for good, at least do one little thing about the pain and the starvation and the death. 

I wanted to fight. My heart told me to fight. But my head was resigning itself to the inevitability, the morbidity, of death.

Three more seconds, and I wouldn’t be breathing.

Two more seconds, and my life would end.

One more second, and I would be gone.

Zero seconds … and I heard a loud cannon. Louder than any Enforcer weapon. Louder than anything I had heard in my life. 

I looked up, expecting the bullet that would end my life.

Instead, I saw the Loose Cannon, drenched in blood, with the Enforcer’s dead body kicked aside.

I dusted off the surrounding glass, rushed up to Jinx, and gave her leg a hug. She smiled, before kneeling down to my level and grabbing a cloth to clean the bloodstains off of my arms and legs.

“Are you okay, kid?”, she asked, a lot more genuine than before.

I nodded, before the boy that had carried her - Ekko, I think - came up to me and knelt as well. “What’s your name, kid?”

I wasn’t sure if they’d understand my sign language, so I quickly signed, “Isha.” 

Luckily, Ekko understood it, and turned to Jinx. “Her name is Isha.”

Jinx patted my head with a smile. “Well, Isha, you son of a gun. I didn’t think leading a Zaunite rebellion was in the cards…”

I sighed. Are you kidding me? You saved my life, and you’re STILL doubting your abilities?

Jinx then turned to Ekko. “I think I’m ready. What’s our first move?”

Before Ekko could respond, I got closer to the both of them - and gave them a tight hug. I then looked over to Ekko with a smile, and signed, “I’ll do anything to help.”

“She’ll do anything to help.”, Ekko told Jinx.

“Is that so?”, she said with a laugh. 

“How about you get some explosives for our rally tonight?”

Chapter Text

POV: JINX

BOOM!

The rocket exploded into the evening Zaun sky, dissipating into smoke and blue light. The noise was enough to get the entire city off guard. A collective jump, looking into the sky. Figuring out what the heck was going on. After all, it was a Tuesday evening. Nothing eventful was going on. But a bottle rocket exploding? A blue one? 

Suddenly, the speakers cracked. A voice boomed through the entirety of Zaun.

My voice.

“HELLO, ZAUN! It is I, Jinx, your Loose Cannon!”

The entire city fell silent. Awed expressions in their faces, a glow in their eyes. Was this really their girl savior? Was this her real voice?

“I wanted to make an announcement.”, the recording of my voice played. “We’re going to rally against Piltover tomorrow night at Vander’s statue! Be there! Bring your fire! Bring your flames! Your explosives! Your weapons! It will be a light show like no other!”

Immediately, the crowd went wild. “WE’LL BE THERE!” “WE LOVE YOU!” “LONG LIVE THE LOOSE CANNON!” The energy in the air was like if Piltover was just overthrown for real, but the truth was, that was what Zaun felt was happening. 

After all, I had spent far too long running from my destiny. 

It was time for me to fight for my people.

“Light the fireworks!” The recording continued before fizzling. For safety reasons, we pre-recorded my announcement to Zaun before playing it, so no Enforcers would shoot my dead before the big day. However, Isha insisted she’d stand guard and watch the proceedings, and as I watched from the window of the Last Drop, I could see that she was taking my instruction as gospel.

Isha lit the flame to the rocket. Ten of them. Sat back and watched as it burned. The flame of hope. The flame of prosperity.

Then, the skies of Zaun exploded. Colorful bursts everywhere, the people watching in glee. In hope. In admiration.

The Loose Cannon was finally here. And she’d bring Zaun to its glory.

Or would she?

That night, at Vander’s statue, Ekko, Sevika and Isha surrounded me as I stood on top. I held a flare, blue, glowing, acting like there were a thousand people in the crowd. However, not a single soul was out. It was just Ekko, looking at me in confusion, Sevika, who was in awe, and Isha, practically salivating at the sight of me actually fighting back. 

“How do I look?”, I smiled.

Ekko couldn’t help but laugh. “Look? Is that what you expect the rally to be?”

“Yeah. I stand there with the flare, inspire people to want to fight, people cheer my name and stuff, Isha sets off more bottle rockets, that’s the end.”

“I can tell you’ve never actually done any good for anyone else before.”, Ekko snarked.

“Hey!”, I said, turning off the flare and getting down. “I do good! I saved us from the Council!”

“Last time I checked, that was murder.”, Sevika immediately said, causing the confidence I was feeling in the moment to immediately dissipate. 

Maybe I was an idiot to decide to go along with an entire revolution. After all, I didn’t know how to do good for anyone. My father was dead. I killed my other father, the giant I was standing on just minutes earlier. I killed my other other father, out of rage and anger. And now, Zaun trusted me to get them out of a predicament that had been going on way before I was born.

Ekko tapped my shoulder, immediately causing my thoughts to go to his touch. Why was it so calming? Why did it help me feel a little better? He probably was about to kick my ass!

Instead of kicking my ass, he gave me a folded piece of paper. “I wrote this for you. Open it.”

I opened the paper, revealing a whole speech or sort about Piltover and Zaun. I couldn’t quite make out all the words, since Ekko’s handwriting was a little messy. “What does it say?”, I asked.

“Oh, Pow-Pow.”

“I told you not to call me Pow-Pow.”

“Jinx. Sorry. And sorry if my handwriting is a mess.”

“A mess? This is like someone mixed beer with lemonade.”

“That’s not that nice.”

“Maybe I’m not that nice of a person, Ekko.”

“Maybe I was delusional to think you’d genuinely want to help Zaun instead of fulfilling your own self-interest!”

“SHUT UP,” Sevika yelled. Her words had the intended effect - the second she yelled at me and Ekko to be quiet, we were quiet.

“Good. Now, Jinx, you probably should spend less time making fun of Ekko’s… less than legible handwriting … and more time actually reading what he wrote.”

I straightened out the crinkled paper, and read the paper with barely any emotion. “Hello, Zaun. We gather here today because the end for Piltover’s dominion for us is coming. Freedom for Zaunites, where we won’t have to worry about an Enforcer barging into our house and killing the ones we love. When we’ll be able to achieve more than they see us as, where both sides of the river can unite as one, where peace will finally be achieved.”

Ekko couldn’t help but laugh again. “It sounds like you’re a robot.”

“Well, I didn’t write this! You did! Maybe it would sound better if you read it.”, I said with a bit of a sigh.

“No one gives a fuck what I say! They only care about what you have to say!”

“This is what you believe! It would be good if you said it, not me!”

Suddenly, Sevika took the paper from me and shredded it. I could tell from Ekko’s reaction that if he wasn’t trying to be charitable to us, he would have punched Sevika in the face, but she was also too big and imposing and would scare the shit out of him.

“Jinx, speak from the heart. What would you want to talk about?”

Suddenly, I hardened a little. No one told me I’d have to make grand speeches about my past and whatnot. I decided to fight back so I could shoot Enforcers, not traumadump!

Then, I felt a little sensation on my knee. I looked down, seeing the smiling girl I had grown quite fond of over the last few days. In her little hat, with her signature joy of just being around me. My mind flashed back to earlier, when the Enforcers were about to end her life. When the bullets threatened to pierce her skin, when everything almost faded to black for her.

I wanted to fight for a world where Isha wouldn’t have to suffer like I had to suffer as a kid.

And at that moment, I knew exactly what I would say the next day.

Chapter Text

POV: ISHA

That night, a powder keg lit Zaun on fire.

At first, I could barely see what was going on. Practically the whole city was sprawled around Vander’s statue. Old people who had probably been mining for their entire lives, mingled together with kids around my age, who hadn’t known peace for their short lives as well. It was a chaotic mix of people, but despite the chaos, there was clarity. All were looking up at the statue, eyes ablaze with fire, fury and hope. Waiting for their Loose Cannon to show up. Waiting for the world to change.

I mingled in the crowd, trying to get the best view I could. Ekko insisted on staying with Jinx before she took the stage, and Sevika was probably with them, drilling Jinx with scripted revolutionary sayings to yell out to hype up the crowd. I could imagine it - a back and forth between Ekko and Sevika, passion and performance, how to handle a crowd as big and fiery as this one.

But I knew Jinx could do it. After all, she was everything to me.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my hat. I looked up, trying to place who was approaching, a vaguely familiar figure taking her hand out and giving it to me. But when I looked closer at her icy eyes, I knew exactly who it was. Sevika? Why did she need me?

“Hey, kid. Jinx wants to make sure you can see what’s happening.”

I raised an eyebrow, a bit confused. Why would Jinx care if I, specifically, could see what was going on? There was an entire crowd of people here - wouldn’t getting everyone on her side be her number one priority?

Before I could sign and tell Sevika to help Jinx instead of hanging around me, she scooped me up and placed me on her shoulders. Then, my jaw dropped. I could see the full scale and magnitude of the crowd. It seemed like a million people had gathered here - if the crowd had seemed massive from the ground below, from here it seemed like an enormous beast gathering up Zaun and pushing it forward - towards the future.

I just hoped Jinx wasn’t nervous -

BOOM! The sound of a cannon setting off startled me and the rest of the crowd. I searched the crowd, trying to locate the inevitable Enforcer that had come to scare us off and stop the Zaun Revolution before it started. But after a few beats, I couldn’t find any Enforcer.

Just the lighting of a blue flare, and the roar of a raucous crowd.

“I’ve only known her for a few days,” the familiar voice began from up top of Vander’s statue. “But when I met her, she reminded me of what I thought life could be before I learned that there’s more opportunity in the pinky of the city across the river than there is in the entirety of the city that’s exploited for their benefit!”

I looked up, eyes wide in disbelief. She has to be talking about someone else.

“She doesn’t speak.”

Oh. She is talking about me.

Oh my God, she’s talking about me!

“But the impact she has had on me is indescribable. Just like her nature. We met when I was out. Thinking that I had made a terrible mistake for striking back at the Council for what they had done to us. I was resigned to believing that everyone hated what I did. That even though I acted, we’d be stuck with even worse consequences because of it. That I was moments away from death, from the world crumbling around me because I refused to accept the status quo that Piltover gives us, like a parasitic life form sucking out our labor and our life and our happiness and our loved ones.”

Now, Jinx came closer, a little more confident. Ekko followed behind her as she looked down at the crowd, and searched and searched until she found my hat and freckled face. “I will admit, I didn’t see why we needed to fight at first. I was conditioned to believe that even if we tried to change things, Piltover would just strike back, and hurt us, and make people like our beloved Isha die. I’ve lost my mom. My dad. My sister practically left me for a Piltie girl, and Silco…”

At the mention of Silco, the crowd started to jeer. Jinx straightened up, taken a bit off guard. I could feel Sevika roll her eyes at the boos and raspberries blown in the audience too, which I found strange. After all, didn’t Jinx kill Silco? All the chem barons died the same day Jinx took out the Council, but Sevika was over here acting like Jinx wasn’t the one to do it. Like it was Piltover that freed all of us from Shimmer. 

Ekko then came towards Jinx, gave her hand a squeeze, and yelled, “What she means is that Silco is gone! And that no one will ever have to mine for the chem-baron’s profits ever again!” That got cheers from the crowd, including me. 

Jinx nodded, satisfied with Ekko’s remark, before continuing. “And then, because of that, I realized something. The reason why we fight is so the people we love can have better lives! So that Isha can grow up in a world where she doesn’t have to mine chemicals and see all her friends die! So that the generations after her don’t have to feel the pain I did when I lost my parents! So that we can live in the future that people like Ekko have been fighting for for years, for a peaceful world, for a world where we are all free!”

“But that can’t happen if we don’t say no to Piltover. If we don’t stand up to Piltover, we can’t break our chains. So tonight, we declare war on Piltover!”

With that, Ekko pressed a button, and fireworks exploded overhead. Jinx raised her fist and her flare, and the crowd, dazzled, raised their fists as their Loose Cannon’s voice boomed across the river.

“We will crush the Enforcers to a bloody pulp! We will stand up for Zaun! We will fight for everyone who’s ever died because of Piltover! And we, as Zaunites, will rise, united! We, as Zaunites, will rewrite the history of what it means to be from here! No more being seen as street trash! No more being written off as collateral damage for Piltover’s dominion over Runeterra! Together, we WILL create a better future! For me! For you! For your family! For Isha! FOR ZAUN!”

And as the rest of the crowd cheered, I joined in, raising my fist, feeling a new sense of power.

For years upon years, I thought that things would never get better. But when I discovered Jinx, things seemed to look up.

Now, being united with the rest of the city in this crowd. My best friends atop Vander’s statue, successfully rallying the entire city. Sevika beaming from ear-to-ear as she carried me. And the the rageful passion of all the Zaunites’s cheers, channeling within Jinx, as she held the flare higher than before, arm-in-arm with Ekko, looking straight at me?

I hadn’t felt this hopeful in my entire life.

Maybe Piltover would fall after all.

Chapter Text

Hey guys! I wanted to apologize for not updating in like, 2 months. College started again, I've been knee deep in edits for my novel, I finished a screenplay, and the political party is now recruiting candidates!

I just wanted to let you all know that the next chapter should be soon! I'm going to do my absolute best to get you guys at least 2 chapters this month - I feel so bad for not updating :(

Hope you all are doing well! Can't wait to share the next part in Jinx, Ekko, Isha and Sevika's story with you all :)

Chapter Text

POV: VI

Powder?

Through the halls of the Kiramman home, I could hear her voice. Crystal. Clear as day. Like I’d never even lost her.

Like those years chained up in Stillwater weren’t real at all. Like I hadn’t lost her to Silco.

I couldn’t make out the words. I couldn’t understand what was being said. Maybe her voice was nothing but a delusion. A fantasy that I had entertained myself with to make the dull blade of the last few days give way to hope and light. But I knew I had to at least try to see if it was even there. Even if it was nothing, at least I gave it my all.

I flung open the doors of Caitlyn’s room. Scrambled across the sprawling hallways, adrenaline rising as fast as it did when I had to run away from Zaunite gangs as a kid. Back then, I would protect Powder from those demons, from the monsters, the bad guys, everyone who had tried to manipulate her.

I could chase away as many monsters as I wanted. But none of them would compare to the guilt that ate at me every day.

Powder wasn’t real anymore. Well, she was, but she was something different to everyone. To Caitlyn? A monster that needed to be eradicated immediately. To Ambessa? A venom. A rot. Execution in front of all of Runeterra, to have all those rebels who thought she was a god tremble at her knees. But as for those new rebels, the ones who burned down the funeral for my own girlfriend’s mother? They worshipped her. Scrubbed all those years of working under Silco under the dust. In their eyes, it was like she hadn’t worked for Silco at all. A few murders, and they had her forgiveness. And her devotion. I wasn’t even sure how Ekko felt about all of this. I wondered how he’d feel - working to bring about a better world for years, only for Jinx to get all the glory. Jinx. That name still felt wrong to say.

But how did I feel? How did I feel, after watching my own sister kill the one that put her in so much misery, only to immediately murder countless others that were about to give the entire city peace?

Pulled in a thousand different directions.

And pulled I was, yet again, when I saw Caitlyn Kiramman, covered with nothing but a blanket, lying on the couch, TV remote in hand, fuming at the image on the screen.

My sister.

“No more being seen as street trash!”

Just like we always wanted.

“No more being written off as collateral damage for Piltover’s dominion over Runeterra!”

Just like Vander wanted…

“Together, we WILL create a better future! For me!”

Powder…

“For you!”

Cait…

“For your family! For Isha! FOR ZAUN!”

My jaw stayed dropped as my eyes glanced over to the TV. Ekko was right next to her, surrounded by a crowd. A bunch of Firelights, people with blue hair dye, and one particularly loud girl with her fist raised, screaming like Powder, I mean, Jinx, was her own sister. She commanded the place like Zaun was her own personal army, but none of this seemed like it was for personal gain. None of this seemed fake. It seemed like she was in her own element. Actually caring about something other than herself, for once.

At least, that’s what I wanted to believe. It probably wasn’t true.

Suddenly, Ambessa stormed into the living room, face red. “I was about to find out who was going home on Strictly Come Dancing when all of a sudden, some Firelight mop bucket hacked the TV and that Loose Cannon rabble-roused in place of my show!”

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “YOU watch Strictly Come Dancing?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Violet, that is not the point.”

“Yeah, I know. The Zaunites are revolting. Jinx’s leading them. There might be more attacks on Piltover.”

Ambessa then got closer to me, putting her hand on my shoulder. “Which means, you have a job to do.”

I stopped in my tracks. “I know. I must apprehend Jinx and secure justice for Piltover. You told me that the moment she killed the Enforcers!”

Ambessa retorted back, “But what have you done? Absolutely nothing!”

 “It’s only been a few days!”, I yelled. “She hasn’t been seen until now! How am I supposed to find a wanted criminal who hasn’t made herself seen?”

Caitlyn stood up from the couch. “Violet’s right, Ambessa. Jinx hasn’t been seen. But now that her cell of terrorists has rallied out in the open, we need to track her movements and take her down as soon as possible.”

My head moved rapidly, nodding as quickly as ever. I swallowed up pain and pride, concentrating on the look in Caitlyn’s eyes. Bold. Angry. Ready to strike.

She was confident that Powder, no, Jinx, needed to be taken down. And I believed in her.

“You’re right, Caitlyn. This rally, I mean, terrorist gathering, is a sign that extremism in Zaun needs to stop once and for all. It’s taken hold of the city. Who knows what they’re going to do to Piltover? To the Council’s families? To our Enforcers?”

The words came out distant. Bitter. Calculated. Like everything in my world didn’t slow down and revolve around Caitlyn once she walked into the room. 

Jinx’s words came out so real, despite probably being for the wrong reasons. Mine came out so scripted, despite being genuine.

What the fuck was I doing?

I couldn’t pay that any mind. I couldn’t afford to think about that any longer.

Instead, I found my Hextech gloves, strapped them on, and lightly opened the door handle at the front of the house.

“You said there were Firelights involved in the rally, right?”

Caitlyn nodded, a smirk entering her expression. “I know where this is going.”

I smirked back, trying to feign confidence. “They’re going to pay for what they did to your mother’s funeral.”

But was them paying true justice?