Chapter Text
Sevika’s footsteps echoed softly down the hall, the distant sound of the Undercity’s ever-present hum slipping through the walls like a quiet reminder of everything she had built with Silco. Everything they had fought for.
But lately, things hadn’t felt the same. There was a heaviness in the air that made it hard to breathe, something that shifted in the atmosphere around her every time Jinx’s name came up.
Sevika didn’t have time to care. She was an enforcer, not a babysitter. Silco had made it clear: Jinx was his problem. She was a tool. His tool. And Sevika had never had any real reason to intervene.
At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
...
Sevika was passing by the hallway that led to Silco’s office when she heard the voices. She paused, instinctively slowing her steps. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for her to overhear Silco and Jinx arguing, but this time was different. Jinx’s voice—broken, desperate—made something in Sevika’s chest tighten.
She had walked in on plenty of arguments before, but something about this moment made her feel... uneasy.
She lingered by the door, just out of sight enough to peek inside. Jinx was on the floor kneeling in front of Silco.
"Please, Silco... stop," Jinx’s voice was a faint whisper, like it was barely holding together. “I’m... I’m trying to be good. I swear.”
Sevika’s heart skipped, and she found herself holding her breath. Silco’s low murmur followed, too soft to make out, but the commanding tone was unmistakable.
"You know I do this because I love you, Jinx". He was doing it again. He was breaking her. And Sevika felt something deep inside, something she couldn’t name, snap like a rubber band pulling taut.
But she didn’t move.
Her feet were glued to the floor, and she didn’t want to know what was going on. Didn’t want to confront the mess that Jinx had become under Silco’s care.
Silco somehow felt her presence and whipped his head around to look at her. He immediately stepped away from Jinx to slam the door in Sevika's face, blocking her out of whatever sick game he was playing with her.
Sevika stepped back, suddenly feeling nauseous. She shook her head, forcing herself to turn away. She didn’t need to know. It wasn’t her place.
Silco had always said Jinx wasn’t her problem. She had never been Sevika’s responsibility.
...
Days passed, and Sevika told herself she had made the right choice. She focused on the bigger picture. Silco was right. Jinx was a mess, a lost cause, and it wasn’t Sevika’s job to fix her.
But the more she saw Jinx, the more she heard the whispers about her- that there was something off about their father-daughter relationship, the more she couldn’t deny the guilt eating away at her insides. Jinx was broken. And every time Sevika saw her flinch or see that hollow look in her eyes, the guilt settled deeper, a weight that Sevika had long ignored.
Then came the day she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Sevika had been standing outside Silco’s office, contemplating something—anything to distract her from the knot in her stomach—when she heard something that made her freeze.
A loud crash. A scream. A strangled cry.
She couldn't move.
Her heart pounded as she stood frozen in front of the door.
Silco swung the door open right in front of her before she even had time to think, and glared at her as he walked away from the office.
She took a deep breath before walking in, afraid of what she might see.
Sevika’s feet felt heavier with each step she took.
She had been an enforcer, a warrior in Silco’s empire. That was her role. Protecting Jinx had never been part of the plan. But in the back of her mind, a tiny, insistent voice had never quite quieted. A voice that kept reminding her Jinx was not just Silco’s creation. She was a person—a girl who had been twisted and broken, shaped into something unrecognizable.
She told herself she didn’t have to be a part of it. But each time she saw Jinx flinch, each time those hollow eyes met hers, the guilt gnawed at her, a relentless reminder that she had allowed this to continue.
Sevika stared at the door, her knuckles tight around the doorknob. She could still hear Silco’s voice, his cold, cruel assurances that Jinx would always come back to him, no matter how far she slipped. But this time, Sevika’s resolve was crumbling.
How many times had she let herself ignore the truth? How many times had she walked away when she knew something was wrong, convincing herself it wasn’t her place to intervene?
But that was a lie, wasn’t it?
She had known. She had seen the bruises, heard the whispers. She had seen the way Jinx had shrunk away from others, the hollow look in her eyes. And she had turned away, telling herself it wasn’t her fight.
But it was. It always had been.
Her breath hitched as she gripped the door handle tighter, the thought of what lay beyond it already filling her with dread. She had ignored it for so long—pretended it wasn’t happening. But she couldn’t anymore. Not after what she had just overheard. Not after the silence in Jinx’s voice, the desperation that hung in the air. Not after she had let Silco tear Jinx apart piece by piece.
Sevika’s jaw clenched, and she exhaled shakily, trying to steady her racing heart. She couldn’t stand there, frozen in place. This was it. This was the moment where she had to do something. If she didn’t, she would be complicit in everything Silco had done to that girl.
The sight inside nearly shattered her.
Jinx was on the floor, curled up in a ball, shaking like a leaf caught in a storm. Her clothes were discarded carelessly around her, her face streaked with tears, and her body trembled as if the weight of the world had crushed her. Her eyes were glassy, empty, the life once in them seemingly gone. There was no fight left. No resistance. Only silence. Only quiet sobs that seemed to echo from the depths of her soul.
Sevika’s breath caught in her throat, and she froze in place, staring at the fragile form in front of her. She should have done something sooner. She should have stepped in before it came to this. But no. She had let it go on, told herself it wasn’t her problem.
Her stomach churned, and the guilt wrapped around her chest like a vice.
How could she have let this happen?
For a moment, Sevika stood there, paralyzed by the sight of Jinx in such a vulnerable state. She had seen so much violence, so much bloodshed, but this… this was different. This was a broken soul, a girl who had been shattered and left in pieces. And it was her fault. She had let it go on. She had been a bystander, watching from the sidelines while Silco destroyed the one person who needed protection the most.
She swallowed hard, her throat thick with emotion. She had to do something. She couldn’t just stand there, watching it happen. Not anymore.
Sevika took a shaky step forward, her mind made up. As she crouched down beside Jinx, she reached for her, her hands trembling as she gently lifted Jinx’s body, cradling her as if she were fragile glass. Jinx was unresponsive, her body limp in her arms, but Sevika didn’t care. She didn’t care if Jinx didn’t understand. She had to take action.
"I’ve got you," Sevika whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I’m sorry it took me this long."
Sevika wasn’t sure what hurt more—the pain in Jinx’s eyes or the overwhelming shame that weighed on her shoulders. She had let it happen. But that would end now. Sevika would protect Jinx, even if it meant defying Silco.
As she carried Jinx away from the office, she couldn’t shake the heavy feeling in her chest, the guilt that followed her every step. She had let this happen. She had let it get this far. But the important thing now was that she was doing something.
For the first time in a long time, Sevika felt like she was finally doing the right thing.