The noise came from the kitchen—a sharp, thunderous bang that sent Ekko, Maya, and Ava rushing through the narrow hallway. They skidded to a halt in front of the scene of chaos: the oven stood like a defeated soldier, its door blown clear off and wedged against a nearby counter. Smoke billowed out in thick, gray clouds, mingling with a fine dusting of flour that coated every surface like a mocking snowfall. Utensils lay scattered across the floor, bent and twisted as if in protest against the calamity.
Maya clutched her head, her exasperation cutting through the smoky air. "Mom! What did I tell you about using that oven? It's been barely holding on for months!"
Ava shrugged, her face a portrait of sheepish defiance. "I just wanted to bake some cookies for our guest." Her attempt at innocence did little to quell Maya's rising frustration.
"We're calling the mechanic—again!" Maya huffed, throwing up her hands in defeat. She turned on her heel to inspect the wreckage more closely, muttering something about reckless inventions and stubborn mothers.
While they bickered, Ekko's eyes roamed the ruined kitchen. Despite the chaos, it carried a charm—a cluttered warmth of a home that had seen its share of laughter and mishaps. His gaze fell on an overturned blender lying among the debris. Its bright, cartoonish design was hard to miss: a cheerful monkey, hands clapping in delight, painted against a vibrant background of yellow and red. Ekko felt his chest tighten as an old, buried memory stirred within him.
He stared at the monkey for a long moment, his mind churning with fragments of the past. Then, with a slow exhale, he pushed the thought aside. Coincidence, he told himself, though the word felt hollow.
"Hey," he said, breaking through the heated exchange between mother and daughter. "I can take a look at it if you want. See if I can get it working again."
Maya turned to him, one brow raised in skepticism. "You? You're a mechanic now?"
Ekko allowed a grin to slip through. "I've... tinkered with a few things in my time."
Maya crossed her arms, still skeptical. "Alright, Mr. Tinkerer. Be my guest." She stepped aside, gesturing toward the mangled oven with a mix of challenge and resignation.
Ekko rolled up his sleeves and crouched to inspect the damage. The oven was a mess, its inner components charred and barely holding together. Despite this, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement at the familiar problem-solving challenge. With tools borrowed from a nearby drawer, he set to work, his hands steady and precise as he began to dismantle the burnt-out components.
As he worked, he struck up casual conversation. "So, about this mechanic you mentioned earlier. Who's the one you usually call?"
Maya leaned against the counter, brushing some flour off her shirt. "Oh, her? She's a genius," she said, her tone tinged with reluctant admiration. "Moved to Ravenhurst a few months ago. Honestly, she's saved this place more times than I can count."
Ekko kept his focus on the oven but felt his curiosity deepen. "What's her name?"
Maya frowned, tapping her chin. "Duster? Sifter? Something to do with baking, maybe?"
Ekko chuckled softly. "That doesn't sound right."
"No, wait." Maya snapped her fingers, her expression lighting up. "It starts with a P."
Ekko froze for a split second, his heart skipping a beat. His fingers paused over the oven's inner wiring as a single name surfaced in his mind, unbidden yet impossibly clear. He looked up at her, trying to sound casual. "Powder?"
Maya's eyes widened, and a smile spread across her face. "That's it! Powder! How'd you know?"
For a moment, Ekko felt like the world had tilted on its axis. He swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. Powder. It couldn't be. Could it?
"I... probably know her," Ekko said, his voice a little too even. He looked back down at the oven, his hands moving again to hide the tremor in them.
Maya tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "You know her?"
Ekko hesitated. He wasn't ready to explain—not yet. "We might've crossed paths before," he said vaguely, tightening a loose screw with a little more force than necessary.
Maya let it drop for now, though the flicker of intrigue didn't leave her face. "Well, if you're looking for her, you can usually find her at the old garage on the edge of town. She practically lives there."
Ekko's stomach tightened at her words. He finished with the oven, brushing his hands on a nearby rag, though his thoughts were far from the task at hand. "That should hold for now," he said, his voice quieter than usual.
Maya studied him for a moment, then pointed toward the door. "Main Street, left at the clock tower, a few blocks down. You can't miss it."
Ekko nodded, barely registering her words. His focus was already elsewhere, his pulse quickening with every step toward the unknown.
Ekko gave a quick nod to Maya, not trusting himself to speak. He wasn't sure what to feel—excitement, dread, or a mix of both. Powder? No, Jinx? It couldn't be her. But if it is... The possibility gnawed at him. He wasn't ready for this—he wasn't prepared for this flood of memories and what it might mean.
Maya seemed to sense the shift in him. She stepped back, hands on her hips. "You sure you're okay? You look a bit... out of it."
"I'm fine," Ekko replied quickly, forcing a smile, though his mind was already racing ahead. He turned toward the door, but before he could step outside, Maya called after him.
"Hey! Don't get yourself into too much trouble, alright?" There was a teasing edge to her voice, but her eyes were serious, like she knew something he didn't.
Ekko paused, his fingers gripping the doorframe. He glanced back at her, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "I'll try not to." Then, with one last lingering look at the garage and the mysteries inside, he stepped out into the cool evening air.
Ekko darted down the street, following Maya's directions as if his life depended on it. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows over the uneven cobblestone path. His hoverboard weighed heavily in his bag, but his feet carried him faster than he thought possible.
Finally, he reached the destination. A small, weathered building stood before him, its exterior a patchwork of rust and faded paint. Hanging precariously above the door was a piece of battered iron, the words "Duster's Garage" etched into its surface with clumsy strokes.
Ekko paused, catching his breath as he stepped closer. Faint vibrations hummed through the air, accompanied by the muffled sound of loud, unapologetic rock music blaring from inside. The door creaked slightly as he pushed it open, the sound drowned by the music.
Inside, the garage was a chaotic blend of creativity and clutter. Tools of all shapes and sizes were scattered across every available surface, tangled wires hanging from makeshift hooks, and the faint smell of grease and burnt metal filled the air. Ekko's eyes darted around, searching for the person behind the noise and chaos.
Then he saw her.
At the far end of the room, a skinny girl with short, electric blue hair worked intently at a desk. Her back was to him, and she seemed completely absorbed in her task, her hands moving deftly as sparks flew from a welding torch. The neon light from a nearby lamp reflected off her hair, giving her an almost ethereal glow.
Ekko's heart pounded in his chest. His breath caught as memories rushed to the surface—memories of a girl he once knew, chaotic and brilliant, whose life had burned too brightly and ended too soon. Could it be?
Summoning his courage, he approached, each step measured and hesitant. When he was close enough to feel the warmth of the welding torch on his skin, he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he rested it on her shoulder.
"Jinx?" His voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of years of hope and heartbreak.
The girl froze. The music seemed to pause with her, the room suddenly unbearably silent. Slowly, she turned around.
Ekko's heart plummeted.
The girl who faced him was not Jinx. Her eyes, though sharp and curious, were unfamiliar. A smudge of grease streaked her cheek, and she tilted her head, her confusion evident.
"Who the hell is Jinx?" she asked, her tone a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.
Ekko took a step back, his hand dropping to his side. "I—I'm sorry," he stammered, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I thought... Never mind."
The girl frowned, studying him for a moment before shrugging. "If you're not here for repairs, you're in the wrong place." She turned back to her work, the music resuming as though nothing had happened.
Ekko stood frozen for a moment, still processing what had just happened. He had been so sure. Could it really be her? He forced the thought aside and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for interrupting," he said, trying to regain his composure. "Are you the mechanic?"
The girl didn't even look up from her work, but her voice was sharp when she replied, "Yeah, that's me. Name's Powder."
Ekko's heart skipped, but he didn't let his excitement show. He glanced around the garage, his eyes scanning the cluttered space. The walls were lined with tools, half-finished projects, and wires strewn about. But it was the corner of the room that caught his attention—the area where Powder had been working. It was... funky. The mismatched colors, the odd assortment of mechanical parts, and the oddity of several small clapping monkey toys stood out to him.
This place... it feels like it belongs to Jinx.
But this girl—Powder—wasn't Jinx. She couldn't be. She looked so different, too grounded, too focused on the task at hand. The chaotic energy that Jinx had always carried was absent in her.
Ekko's mind raced, but he pushed forward. "Is your name really Powder?" His voice was tinged with uncertainty, but the words came out before he could stop himself.
The girl's eyes flashed with irritation as she glanced at him, clearly annoyed. "Yes, it's Powder," she replied, her tone almost defensive. "I don't know why you're so obsessed with the name, but yes, that's me."
Ekko stood there for a moment, contemplating. It could be a coincidence...
"Alright, sorry," Ekko said quickly, a bit embarrassed. He turned to walk away, but something in the back of his mind kept tugging at him. The image of the toys, the scattered wires, and something more that was lodged at the back of his mind gnawed at him.
As he walked out of the garage, the image of the desk where Powder had been working returned to him. His heart started to race. The gun. There had been a gun, placed nonchalantly on the edge of the desk, its silver shine catching the light. It looked like the gun Jinx used.
The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He turned back on his heel, his feet carrying him back to the garage almost instinctively.
"Wait!" Ekko called out, entering the garage again with more urgency. "There was a gun on your desk. Where is it?"
Powder stopped her work and looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. Without hesitation, she answered flatly, "No gun. I don't know what you're talking about."
Ekko paused, the uncertainty creeping in. He searched her face, looking for any sign of deception. After a long moment, he exhaled and nodded, though a quiet doubt lingered in his chest.
"Alright... maybe I was just seeing things," he muttered, his voice low.
He stood there for another second, the weight of the situation settling on him like a shadow. It could have been a delusion, he thought, shaking his head. He turned and walked out of the garage, but the feeling that something was off stayed with him, gnawing at him from the inside.