Arcane: I have Plasmids F*** YEAAAAAAH!!!

Everything was quiet now.

The fire still burned. The factory still smoldered. The world around them was still collapsing—but none of it mattered.

Because Vander wasn't moving.

Vi knelt beside him, frozen.

Her body was screaming at her, aching from the escape—the fight, the explosion, the fall—but none of it mattered.

He had been holding her.

Shielding her.

He had hit the ground hard.

But he had hit it first.

And now—

Now he was just lying there.

His chest, still.

His body, heavy.

His face—

Oh, Janna. His face.

Pale. Lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something—but never would.

Vi crawled forward, hands shaking.

"Vander…?"

Nothing.

Her breath hitched as she reached out, grabbing his coat, shaking him.

"Vander, come on."

Her voice cracked.

"Come on, wake up."

She shook him harder, her fingers curling into the torn, bloodied fabric.

"Come on, you have to get up! We have to go—"

His head lolled.

His eyes—half-open.

Unseeing.

And then—

A breath.

A single, shuddering gasp.

Vi froze.

He was still here. Still alive.

Barely.

She leaned in, her ear close to his lips, barely able to hear the ragged, dying whisper.

His voice wasn't a man's voice anymore. It was something weak, something fragile, caught between the world of the living and the dead.

"…Take care of Powder."

His hand trembled—

Reached for her—

Then fell.

Limp.

The last breath left him.

And just like that—

Vander was gone.

---

Vi Breaks

"No."

Vi's voice barely existed.

She shook him again, harder this time.

"No. No, NO."

She grabbed his torn coat, yanking at him, hands shaking as she pressed against his chest.

"Come back! Breathe!"

But there was no breath left.

No heartbeat.

No Vander.

Just the sound of the dying fire.

And Vi's voice—

Cracking. Splintering. Breaking.

"Vander, please…"

Her forehead pressed against his chest.

A breath—

A sob—

Then another.

And then—

She wasn't holding it back anymore.

She screamed.

The kind of scream that didn't have words. That didn't have meaning.

Only grief.

Only loss.

Only pain.

She clung to him like if she held him tight enough, he would come back.

But he didn't.

Because Vander was dead.

---

Powder Arrives

"Vi?"

A small, trembling voice.

Vi didn't move.

Didn't want to hear it.

Didn't want to face it.

Not now.

Not when everything was already gone.

But the voice came closer.

"Vi! Are you okay?!"

Vi felt small hands grabbing her arm. Tugging.

Powder.

Slowly, Vi lifted her head.

Red-eyed. Hollow.

Her little sister was crouched beside her, eyes wide, filled with worry.

"I—I was blown away by the explosion!" Powder stammered. "I—I tried to help! I tried to help Lukas! He was fighting those—those things inside! I thought—"

She was talking too fast.

Her hands were shaking.

She kept looking around, searching.

"Is he okay?" she whispered.

"Is Lukas okay?"

Vi just stared at her.

Something in her chest went cold.

Powder wasn't looking at Vander.

She hadn't noticed him yet.

And Vi—

Vi swallowed.

Her hands curled into fists.

"…You did this?"

Powder froze.

Her smile wavered.

Then—her eyes followed Vi's gaze.

And she saw him.

Vander.

Milo.

Claggor, unmoving nearby.

Her breath hitched.

Her hands shook.

"No," she whispered, her head shaking. "No, I—I was trying to help you! I just wanted to help!"

Her hands clutched Vi's arm.

"I—I had to! I made the bomb—I thought it would save you!"

Vi's chest rose.

Breath quivering.

"You thought—"

Her voice cracked.

She shook her head, stepping back.

Powder panicked.

She reached out again, clinging to her.

"I was trying to help! Lukas needed me! He was fighting all those monsters, I—"

Vi ripped her arm away.

Her face twisted—grief, rage, devastation, all fighting for space.

"I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY!"

Her scream tore through the night.

And then—

She slapped her.

Hard.

Powder let out a choked gasp, stumbling backward.

Her face burned.

But the pain wasn't from the slap.

It was from the way Vi looked at her now.

Like she wasn't her sister anymore.

Like she was a mistake.

"I told you to get Lukas and stay with Ekko!" Vi's voice rose, raw and furious. "I told you not to come! And look what you did!"

She pointed.

At Vander.

At the ruined, broken body of their father.

Powder staggered back.

Tears filled her eyes.

She shook her head violently.

"N-no, I—I didn't mean to—"

"You killed him,powder."

Powder stopped breathing.

Vi's voice was quieter now.

But it was sharp.

Deadly.

Final.

"You killed all of them!"

Milo's voice echoed in her head—

'She's a Jinx, Vi! She screws everything up!'

Vi's fists clenched.

Her face twisted.

"Milo was right."

"You're a jinx."

Vi turned away.

She couldn't look at her.

Couldn't stand to.

She walked toward Claggor's body, barely able to breathe.

Kneeling, she pressed a hand to his chest.

Still breathing.

Barely.

She exhaled, pressing her forehead to his.

"Come on, big guy…" she whispered.

Then, slowly—she stood up.

And started walking.

Taking him with her.

Didn't look back.

Didn't say another word.

Powder collapsed onto her knees.

Her hands clenched into the dirt.

Tears dripped onto the bloodstained ground.

She sobbed.

"I was just trying to help."

Then louder—

"Vi?"

Her sister kept walking.

"Vi! Please!"

No answer.

Then—

She screamed.

"LUKAS! PLEASE!"

Her voice broke.

But he wasn't there.

Not anymore.

She was alone.

And then—

A shadow loomed over her.

---

Silco stumbled forward, one hand pressed against his side, blood staining his fingers.

His breaths were ragged.

The battle had cost him more than he expected.

But in the end

Vander was dead.

And he was still standing.

That meant he won.

Sevika helped him forward, her grip firm but careful.

Silco barely paid her any mind.

His eye was locked onto the small girl sitting in the debris.

The last piece of Vander's legacy.

And Lukas—

Where the hell was Lukas?

Silco's fingers curled.

That boy was dangerous. Unpredictable.

He needed to be under his control.

Or dealt with.

The plan had been scorched, but the fire still burned.

Sevika's voice was low.

"She's alone."

Silco exhaled.

His fingers twitched toward the blade at his hip.

A part of him hesitated.

Just a child.

But he crushed the thought.

He had made that mistake once before.

Never again.

Silco stepped forward.

"Hey there, Little girl."

And Powder looked up at him.

Her blue eyes were wide, swollen with tears.

She looked—

Lost.

A stray.

Just like he had been.

His lips parted.

"Where's your friend?"

Powder blinked.

Her breath hitched.

Silco's gaze sharpened.

"And where's your sister?"

Powder flinched.

Something inside her snapped.

Her breath came in sharp, shallow gasps.

She choked on a sob.

Then—

She moved.

Silco's fingers curled around the hilt of his knife, ready to strike—

But she didn't attack.

She lunged.

And wrapped her arms around him.

Silco's entire body tensed.

Sevika stiffened beside him, her hand moving toward her weapon—

But Powder didn't fight.

She clung to him.

Tightly.

Like if she let go, she would fall apart completely.

She shook in his grasp.

Her nails dug into his coat.

Her voice—

Small. Broken. Desperate.

"She left me."

Tears spilled down her face.

"She hates me."

Powder's voice broke.

"She's not my sister anymore."

His fingers twitched. His grip on his knife loosened.

She buried her face against his chest.

Silco stared down at her.

He didn't speak right away.

Didn't push.

Didn't pry.

He just let her cry.

Felt her grief soak into his shirt.

Felt the warmth of her breath against his chest.

She wasn't Vander's child anymore.

She wasn't Vi's sister.

She was alone.

Just like he had been.

He pulled back slightly, lifting a hand to gently brush the hair from her tear-streaked face.

Her eyes were red, wide, full of something shattered.

Something aching to be whole again.

His voice, when it came, was soft.

"It's okay."

She let out another choked sob.

"It's okay," he repeated, firmer this time, voice carrying a quiet, unshakable certainty.

She clung to him tighter.

His fingers brushed through her hair in slow, comforting strokes.

"They'll see," he murmured.

Her breath hitched.

"We'll show them."

A pause.

Then, as his lips curled into something quiet and reassuring—

"We'll show them all."

Powder didn't hesitate.

She nodded, still trembling, still broken.

But no longer alone.