Guns for Hire

Powder felt her despair dissolve, giving in to a fury she'd never encountered before. Her mind swirled in chaos, a storm of contradictions and determination. She knew she was more than capable of building some sort of replica, but not the exact same device. She didn't fully understand its mechanism.

She spent hours experimenting with the crystals. She had to start somewhere, even though they were dangerous, volatile—and, most of all, lethal. She would never forget that day. The memory hung over her like a ghost.

The only solution, she decided, was to stabilize them. To refine them until they were no longer unpredictable. They had to become perfect, marble-like spheres. She didn't even feel the time passing as she worked on them. Shaping them, perfecting them, her movements swift and resilient. The first few attempts didn't go well, and she ended up with her face charred, her nose bleeding due to the crystals' erratic surges.

This is worth it. I know it. She told herself, every time she got up again with unyielding determination, but equal frustration.

By the end of God knows how many hours, she had two flawless blue gemstones. Each, the rough size of a fist. So immaculate that even under a microscope, not a single edge or imperfection could be found.

They were mesmerizing—but they still felt deadly. Holding them in her soft hands, she tasted a bitter tang of iron in her mouth. Beautiful as they were, they still felt alive and ominous, humming with a dark energy. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as if something was lurking, watching her. Heart racing, she dropped the gemstones onto the table with a loud clang, staggering back, her breath coming in short gasps.

I'm imagining things. I've been up all night. My synapses are fried. She tried to calm herself down, ignoring once more her intuition. Vander must be worried sick. I need to stop for a bit before he or Little Man decides to show up here.

Without giving it much more thought, she left, stumbling home. Her mind still racing through all the scenarios, trying to deny a voice that wouldn't shut up, laughing at how ludicrous all of this was. Impossible.

When she stepped into the nearly empty bar, Vander's familiar voice greeted her. She hadn't realized how late it was.

"Hey, kiddo. Burning the midnight oil for the competition?" He was behind the counter, drying an old stained glass with an even older rag. His expression shifted the moment he got a good look at her. "What the hell happened to you?!"

"Nothing, I... I..." she stammered, too exhausted to come up with a plausible excuse.

"Oh, I get it," Vander interrupted, grinning. "You got caught in one of the crazy pranks that kid Isha keeps leaving everywhere, didn't you?" She ignored him. "Too embarrassed to admit it, huh?" He chuckled at his own joke. "You know what, I think she took onto you, keeps following you around like a lap dog. Reminds me of someone."

Powder rolled her eyes as Vander smirked.

She really is annoying. Why does that tiny pest keep tailing me everywhere?

"Well, no point denying it. You caught me," she said with mock defeat, turning away to hide her face. "Just don't tell the guys. I'll never hear the end of it. I'm going up—I need to sleep."

"Not so fast." Vander's tone turned serious. "Have you eaten anything? You're pale. And your eyes look... off." He analyzed her from top to bottom with a puzzled look. It had been years since he'd seen her this unstable.

"I'm fine. Just tired, Dad." She grabbed a small apple from behind the counter. "Here, see? I'm eating." She swirled on her toes, forcing a fake smile that lasted shortly. "Now I'm going to bed."

Before he could argue, she darted upstairs, biting into the apple. As soon as she closed the bedroom door, she tossed the apple aside and collapsed onto the bed. Her body ached, the day catching up to her with a vengeance. She'd been a mess all day, frantic and fueled by adrenaline, but now she had to pay her dues. She closed her eyes briefly and immediately drifted to vivid images of Ekko, swirling her on the dancing floor, his smile mingling with the haze of blue gemstones.

The next day began with Vander catching her sneaking out early. He forced her to sit down to "eat a proper meal", he'd said as he placed a plate in front of her.

"This doesn't look like you, kiddo. Where's my usual upbeat Powder? The one who can devour a whole pizza in one sitting?" She shrugged, disregarding his tentatives.

"You seem on edge. Is it the competition? You were fine just a few days ago." She kept munching, barely listening, her mind elsewhere. "You know, Little Man stopped by and also looked a bit off." Vander continued, brooding, "He said he would meet you at the lair."

"What?!" Powder jumped up, her chair clattering to the floor as she bolted for the door, leaving Vander without even looking behind.

"Not even a goodbye kiss?" Vander called after her, his voice distant as she left the bar.

The gems! I just left them there. Idiot! I should've just brought them with me.

She sprinted through the streets, her body complaining from the unknown effort. By the time she reached the lair, she was gasping for air.

Maybe he's not here yet. Her hope soon faded like smoke on the wind.

There, standing In front of her, was Little Man. He held the gemstones in his hands, his gaze lost somewhere.

"Jinx, what is this?" he murmured, his voice uncertain.

Huh? Jinx?

"Powder, where did you find these?" He looked perplexed, absent even. His wide eyes flicked back and forth between the gems.

"It's nothing. Just a side project. Hand them over." She stepped forward, reaching for the gemstones, but he took a step back, holding them protectively against his chest. He shook his head, trying to make sense of something.

"Are you... Are you okay?" she asked, fear clouding her voice.

"Yes, it's just... You're gonna think madness finally won. But… when I picked them, I saw something. Glitches." His brow furrowed as he stared into their depths.

Powder froze. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"Things aren't adding up. I think I'm going insane. I don't remember the last few weeks and when I tried to talk to Enzo, he just looked worried." His eyes locked onto hers, desperate. "I thought maybe you could help me. You always help me."

Powder looked absolutely mortified. Her eyes mirroring his.

How can I even begin to explain this to him?