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Chapter Text

The first thing Jinx noticed was the warmth of the sun, gentle and golden, brushing against her skin. Then came the birds—their soft, melodic singing pierced through the fog clouding her mind.

She groaned as her body stirred, her limbs heavy and aching as if she had fallen from the highest spire in Zaun. Her eyes fluttered open to a sky of endless blue, untainted by smoke or machinery.

Jinx gasped, her chest expanding with a deep, clean breath, the air was crisp and sweet, nothing like the oppressive, acrid fumes of home.

Home.

The memories hit her like a freight train, an unrelenting deluge of pain, hands shot to the ground, gripping the soft earth beneath her as she sat up abruptly, her chest heaving. Panic clawed at her throat as her wide, pink-glowing eyes darted around her unfamiliar surroundings.

Trees.

Grass.

The sun.

None of it was Zaun.

None of it made any sense.

“This isn’t…this can’t be,” She whispered, her voice cracking.

Scattered nearby lay her belongings: her twin Chompers, and her worn purple pouch/bag with her personal belongings looking out of place as she felt in this tranquil, alien wilderness.

And then it all came rushing back.

The battle.

The Noxians.

Fortune Cookie.

Vander’s molten death of his very core.

And Isha.

Jinx stumbled to her feet, the world tilting around her.“Isha?! Vi?! Vander?!” she screamed, her voice hoarse, ragged, and desperate, staggering, clutching her head as her blue bangs swayed across her tear-streaked face.

But there was no answer, only the gentle sweet sounds of birdsong and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Jinx’s breathing grew erratic, her trembling hands reached out to steady herself, but nothing could stop the storm brewing inside as her memories slammed into her like waves.

Isha forcing Hex Gems into her gun, her serene, unwavering smile, and that final “Pew pew!”—the playful mock-gunfire that had once brought comfort now etched into her soul as a parting wound.

“No,” Jinx whimpered, the tears spilling freely now, “No, no, no!”

The last and only thing she saw was Isha pulling the trigger, the familiar blinding blue explosion swallowing everything she loved.

“ISHAAAAAA!!!”

Jinx’s scream tore through her like jagged glass, raw and visceral as she collapsed to her knees. Her hands clutched at her scalp, nails digging into the roots of her hair until blood stained the tips of her pink-and-blue nails. Tears, shimmering and hot, streaked down her cheeks, glowing faintly in the sunlight.

And then the wind came.

A whirlwind of air erupted around her, swirling dirt and leaves in chaotic spirals as the trees groaned, their branches bristling in the gale that mirrored her anguish.

“Not again…please, not again…” She sobbed, her voice cracking under the weight of her grief.

Heaving, endless teardrops, feeling everything shattering inside deeply, and coming in waves of hallucinations crept in, their familiar taunts like knives twisting in her mind.

“Powder, what did you do?!” Claggor’s lifeless voice hissed, his decayed form flickering in her vision.

“You can’t stop jinxing it, can you? ” Mylo’s mocking laugh echoed, his pale, lifeless eyes staring through her.

“JINX!” Vi’s voice roared.

Jinx gasped and clutched her head tighter, her mind fracturing further. Her hallucinations intensified, swirling with the dirt and leaves in her hurricane of grief.

“Don’t cry. You’re perfect.” Silco’s voice echoed from the depths of her psyche.

“WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?!” Powder’s childlike voice shrieked, high and desperate, piercing through the chaos.

“Because you’re a JINX! ” Vi screamed seething with rage and grief within her sister's voice. 

Jinx lost consciousness. 

Jinx woke up to birdsong and sunlight, her lashes fluttered as dim, pink eyes greeted the soft blue of an open sky.

The warmth of the sun caressed her bruised skin, a stark contrast to the eternal gloom of Zaun.

The air was so clear, so clean, that she instinctively gasped, filling her lungs with it.

It burned. 

Not the suffocating sting of chemicals or smoke, but the sharp purity of fresh air. It was foreign and unfamiliar, yet it made her lightheaded.

She groaned softly, lifting a weak hand to shield her face from the sun’s golden rays. Her vision blurred, and her head pounded as she lay still on the soft earth.

This wasn’t Zaun.

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, it wasn’t a dream—no horrible nightmare. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest, her breaths quickened, and the world tilted around her.

Jinx bolted upright, swaying as dizziness consumed her. Her eyes darted frantically across the unfamiliar forest.

Trees.

Blue skies.

Sunlight.

There were no factories, no smoke, no explosions, and no Isha .

Isha.

The name stabbed through her like a blade, bringing back memories with ruthless clarity. The Fortune Cookie, the Noxians, Vander burning from within, and Isha—it was too much for her to live anymore. 

“Isha!” Jinx cried, staggering to her feet, legs trembled beneath her, but she ignored it, turning wildly in every direction.

“Violet?! Vander?!” Her voice cracked, hoarse and raw, as desperation clawed at her throat helplessly all over again with the desperation to wake up from this nightmare. 

Nothing.

Jinx saw no one, only trees swaying gently in the breeze, their branches whispering above her.

Jinx’s chest heaved as her memories overwhelmed her, circling around her like hurricane and her standing in the middle in the eye of the storm.

Stuck on repeat, haunted, remembering Isha smiling, so calm and serene even as she pushed the Hex Gems into the gun.

“No,” Jinx whispered, eyes wide, trembling shaking her head violently.

“N-No, no, no!” Her hands clutched at her head, nails digging into her scalp as images of Isha pulling the trigger flooded her mind.

“Isha!” she screamed, collapsing to her knees, gut wrenching wails echoed through the forest, raw and guttural as hot pink tears streamed from her eyes, shimmering like molten glass as they carved paths down her pale cheeks.

The wind stirred around her, responding to her anguish. Leaves and dirt swirled in a chaotic dance, forming a small cyclone, the air howled as her grief bled into it, unrestrained and wild.

“Not again!” Jinx sobbed, her voice breaking, “Why does this keep happening?!”

Her hallucinations began to creep into her mind—Mylo, with his mocking laughter; Claggor’s lifeless, accusing gaze; Powder’s childlike voice begging, her sister’s Vi’s glare, Silco’s voice echoing in her mind and now Isha’s ruined little body staring at her blankly. 

The wind roared louder. The cyclone grew stronger, encasing Jinx in the eye of the storm. The hallucinations surrounded her, their voices overlapping, suffocating her.

“Because you’re nothing more than a JINX! ” Vi’s voice screamed in her ears louder than ever before. 

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Jinx howled, punching her fists into her head as if to silence the voices. Her entire body shook with the force of her sobs.

“SHUT UP!” Jinx screamed, pounding her fists against her head in a futile attempt to silence the voices as the wind roared louder, matching the tempest inside her.

And then, with a final, anguished cry, her body gave out—the wind stilled as Jinx crumpled to the ground, her braids trailing in the dirt. Her pink-glowing eyes flickered and dimmed as her mind shut down, overwhelmed by the grief and despair it could no longer bear.

All that remained was that numbing silence.

Jinx lay motionless in the soft embrace of the forest floor, the sunlight filtering through the trees casting delicate patterns over her trembling form.

The blue bird had fallen.

The wind ceased instantly, leaving the forest eerily silent as the girl lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious, her braids fanned out like broken wings.

Jinx woke hours later, her vision hazy, body stiff,  vibrant pink of her eyes had dimmed, the shimmer now barely visible.

Her mind was…quiet.

Too quiet.

Jinx sat up slowly, her movements mechanical and detached. Her face was blank, her emotions numbed to the point of oblivion.

There was no rage, no grief, no sadness—just emptiness.

She stood on shaky legs, dragging her feet as she collected her scattered belongings. She picked up her twin Chompers, a lone Hex Gem that had fallen out of her pocket, and her purple bag. The wind stirred briefly, rustling her long braids, but she barely noticed it.

Jinx glanced at the sky, her brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. The sunlight was too warm, the air too sweet, the birdsong too cheerful.

She turned away, heading into the forest with slow, deliberate steps. The world around her was vibrant and alive, but she felt nothing…she was done.

Jinx was done .

“It’s Jinx now,” her memory of her own voice echoed faintly in her mind, “Powder fell down a well. ”

And this time, Jinx decided, she’d fall too—deep into that well, where no one could follow.

The small village bustled with life as merchants called out their wares and children laughed in the streets.

Jinx walked through it like a ghost, her disheveled appearance caught the attention of several villagers—her blue braids, glowing pink eyes, and bloodied, bruised skin stood out against their earth-toned clothes.

Whispers followed her, but Jinx didn’t care, moving forwards with lifeless determination, her boots dragging against the dirt. The crowd keeps their distance, staying out of Jinx’s path, and would only glance and keep going about their day.

Except for one, an old woman paused in her path, her warm brown eyes softening at the sight of the girl. The poor child looked like she had been through hell and back—pale, thin, and so broken it hurt to look at her.

The old lady paused, waiting for the girl to walk closer, and remained where she stood in Jinx's path quietly. 

Jinx’s eyes downcasted and completely unaware of her own surroundings as everything to her is now under water and she is drowning before stopping abruptly, staring  numbly downwards seeing worn green flats of a stranger. 

“Happy morning, dearest,” the old woman greeted warmly and gently. Her hearts ached, worry surfacing in her mind seeing the heartbreaking state this young girl is in. 

So thin. 

So pale. 

Jinx blinked slowly, her gaze lifting to meet the old woman’s soft brown eyes. She didn’t respond, didn’t flinch, just stared back with dead pink dim eyes with black smudge eyeshadow from her tears. 

“You look like you need some help,” the old woman continued, reaching out a trembling hand, “Let this old hag help you find your way.”

Jinx didn’t resist as the woman took her hand and led her away from the market, she followed in silence, but her mind somewhere far away.

The old woman led Jinx to her small cottage on the outskirts of the market, the old lady’s gnarled hand, shaking with age, held Jinx’s pale, limp fingers. It was a fragile touch, but her grip was steady, firm, as though anchoring Jinx to the earth.

The cottage was humble, its wooden walls weathered and adorned with simple carvings of flowers and birds as smoke rose gently from the stone chimney, carrying the scent of something warm and spiced.

“Come, my child,” the old woman said softly as she pushed open the creaky door, she guided Jinx inside where the air was warm and filled with the aroma of herbs and stew.

Jinx stood still, her boots leaving faint scuffs on the wooden floor, hunched posture and lowered head made her look smaller than she was, almost childlike. She didn’t glance around the room or acknowledge the cozy surroundings, her pink eyes were dim, unfocused, staring at the floor as though the world around her didn’t exist.

The old woman smiled gently, though her heart ached at the sight of the broken girl before her.

“Sit here, my child,” she said gently, guiding Jinx to a cushioned chair near the hearth. 

Jinx obeyed without a word, sinking into the chair, her movements slow and mechanical. Her arms rested limply at her sides, her head bowed, didn’t even notice the warmth of the fire licking at her chilled skin.

“Are you hungry, my child?” the old woman asked, her voice a soothing melody.

“No,” Jinx whispered, her voice hoarse and barely audible.

The old woman hesitated, frowning her kind eyes studying Jinx’s face.

Pale.

Bruised.

Hollow.

The girl’s entire being screamed of exhaustion—not just physical, but something far deeper, a weariness of the soul that pulled the old lady’s heart into a pulsing ache seeing someone so young in such pain and misery. 

“I’ll pack you some food anyway,” the old woman said gently, shuffling into the small kitchen.

Jinx remained still, staring at the wooden floor as she heard the clinking of pots and the soft rustling of fabric, but the sounds barely registered. Her mind was distant, thoughts murky and sluggish, like trying to wade through thick fog.

Then she felt it—a faint stirring of air.

The wind swirled softly around her, windy wisp of air, playful and curious, lifting a strand of her blue hair as the fire flickered in response, the flames bending toward her as though drawn by an invisible force.

The old woman froze mid-step, the basket in her arms nearly slipping from her grasp. Her warm brown eyes now sharpened turned to Jinx, and her breath hitched.

The air danced around the girl in gentle wisps, brushing against her skin and clothes with a strange familiarity. It wasn’t chaotic or wild like the gales that sometimes swept through the market.

It was purposeful, controlled, and alive.

The old woman’s heart skipped a beat as the sight—unable to shake the feeling as she watched with her own eyes. 

'An Airbender...?'  With trembling hands, she hunches over shakenly reaching over to pick up said basket, she clutched the basket tightly as she stared at the young girl.

The stories from her childhood came flooding back—the airbenders who once roamed these lands, masters of the skies, wiped out in the Fire Nation’s ruthless purge. And now, before her, sat a broken child with the air at her command, even if she didn’t seem to realize it.

The old woman took a shaky breath, setting the basket on the counter, hobbling over her bedroom quickly as she was able to. Her mind racing as she grabbed a green cloak and rummaged through her belongings for a sturdy green bag before leaving her bedroom. 

From a separate spare room, she retrieved a set of clothes left behind by her grandchildren, a simple earth-toned fabric still in good condition, added bandages and quickly left to the kitchen and packed a sealed wooden container of stew, and finally, a rolled-up map of the world into the green bag. 

When she returned to Jinx, she carried the cloak in one hand and the bag in the other. Her brown eyes glistened with unshed tears as she knelt before the girl, her old knees creaking in protest.

Jinx didn’t react as the old woman draped the green cloak over her shoulders and began fastening it with shaking hands. 

“You must go south,” the old woman said, her voice soft but urgent, “To the Southern Air Temple. You’ll be safe there, my child.”

Jinx blinked slowly, her pink eyes dull and unfocused.

“Please, my child. Listen to me." The old woman grasped her hands tightly, her frail fingers trembling against Jinx’s cold skin.

"There is a map in this bag. It will guide you. Take these clothes, these bandages.” she said, feeling a knot down her throat as she stared into those dim pink eyes. 

“You must keep yourself hidden,” The old woman eyes shedding tears, her voice trembling.“—your hair, your eyes. You mustn’t let the Fire Nation ever see you.”

Jinx stared at her, unblinking, her words washed over her like waves on a distant shore. She wasn’t fully present, but something about the old woman’s tone—a mixture of desperation and hope—faintly stirred something within her.

‘What has this cruel world done to you, my child?’ The old woman reached up with both hands, cupping Jinx’s face with warm, calloused palms cradling Jinx’s cheeks, grounding her in the moment.

“May the spirits watch over you, little Airbender,” she whispered, her voice breaking, and for a brief moment.

Jinx’s pink eyes flickered, a faint shimmer of light breaking through the darkness. She nodded slightly, her movements stiff and mechanical, but it was enough to ease the old woman’s aching heart.

The old woman released her gently, standing with a pained groan.

“Go now, sweetie.” she said, handing Jinx the bag, “Go south. And don’t look back.”

Jinx rose slowly, clutching the bag in one hand while the other carried her purple bag. Her gaze lingered on the old woman for a moment, her lips parting as though to say something, but no words came.

Instead, Jinx turned and left the cottage, the green cloak billowing softly behind her as the door creaked shut—leaving the old woman behind as she stood in the empty room, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks.

Feeling an ache, guilt, and sadness—yearning to do more if she could, and she wondering if she’d did enough. Oh, how she prayed, hoped with all her heart and soul that she’d did enough that made enough of a difference for the young girl. 

“Spirits, keep her safe,” She whispered, her hands clasped tightly over her aching heart.

As Jinx walked into the forest, her steps were aimless, but her grip on the map tightened. The old woman’s words replayed faintly in her mind, like a ghostly echo:

Go south.

She stopped in a clearing, setting the bag down with slow, deliberate movements and pulled out the map as her fingers tremble.

“South,” Jinx murmured, her voice cracked and dry before her gaze drifted to the horizon.

For the first time, the weight of her purpose pressed down on her. She didn’t know what awaited her at the Southern Air Temple, but somewhere deep within her empty chest, a faint ember stirred—a tiny spark of something she couldn’t name.

Jinx folded the map and tucked it away, her expression empty but her steps steady as she resumed her journey.

Jinx trudged southward, her boots dragging through dirt and mud as the sun dipped below the horizon. The chill of the evening wind brushed against her skin, but she paid it no mind as her thoughts churned restlessly, a storm of uncertainty and dread.

‘What am I even doing? What’s the point anymore?’ She wondered, clutching the old woman’s map in her hand.

The Southern Air Temple—what was she supposed to do when she got there?

What would it mean for her? It wasn’t like she had a grand plan, she didn’t even know what kind of place this world even was, let alone where she’d fit into it.

‘…what’s the point of anything?’ Jinx pondered, before her mind drifted to her Monkey Bomb.

That started this horrible cycle, the sole proprietor—that ruined her own life. 

That small, destructive device, the one thing she had ever truly trusted, and depended on to not fail her and her family only to be betrayed by it.

It had been her safety net, her toy—turned weapon, and was supposed to be her family’s salvation, and ever since that day? It forever is her curse.

Jinx thought of its familiar hum, the glow of its crystals, and how easily it could end the constant cycle of pain she carried.

Her hands tightened into fists, nails digging into her palms.

‘I need materials’, Jinx decided.

If she was going to see this through—whatever “this” was—she needed to rebuild it and finally…

“Break the cycle.” She whispered. 

By the time Jinx reached another village, night had fallen. Lanterns cast warm glows against the cobblestone streets, their faint light drawing shadows against the modest homes and market stalls.

She lingered on the outskirts, her faint glowing pink eyes scanning the area like a hunter stalking prey.

Jinx waited until the village fell quiet, the last murmurs of conversation fading into the cool night air. She pulled the hood of her green cloak low over her face and crept into the alleys, pink eyes glowed faintly in the dark as she moved with practiced ease. Quiet and nimble, she slipped through cracks and gaps, her hands working quickly to gather what she needed.

A toolbox abandoned by a shed.

Scrap metal piled behind a blacksmith’s shop. Gears, wires, and bits of junk discarded by merchants. Her purple bag filled rapidly with anything and everything she could salvage.

When Jinx came across a locked door, she paused, her fingers brushing over the metal lock. Her lips curled into a faint smirk—old habits die hard.

She grabbed a thin scrap of metal from her bag and picked the lock in seconds, the door creaked open, revealing a small storeroom filled with tools.

Jinx worked quickly, stuffing hammers, pliers, and a handful of screws into her bag—didn’t think about the consequences. She didn’t think about the people who would wake up the next morning to find their tools missing. All she thought about was the weight of the two bags slung over her shoulder and the faint comfort of having what she needed to move forward.

That comfort being that, it would all be over soon. 

The next four days were grueling, with the old woman’s map guided her southward, but the journey was long and unkind.

The wind bit at her skin, the rocky terrain scraped her knees and hands, and the nights were cold and restless. And yet, Jinx pushed herself forward with sheer stubbornness, her eyes set on the horizon even as exhaustion gnawed at her limbs.

The further south she went, the more the air changed. It became thinner, colder, and sharper, carrying with it an odd sense of familiarity she couldn’t place.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she stood at the base of a towering mountain range as the map trembled in her hands as she looked at it, her brows furrowing in frustration.

The Southern Air Temple loomed somewhere high above, far beyond her reach, tilting her head back, staring at the endless rocks and cliffs that stretched toward the sky—hands clenched the map tightly, her teeth grinding together.

“She tricked me,” Jinx hissed, voice trembling with anger.

“There’s no way up. She just wanted me to get lost and die out here!” She crumpled the map in her fists, ready to throw it to the ground, when a faint breeze swirled around her.

It teased the edges of her hair and tugged at her cloak, playful and persistent. Her pink eyes flickered as she paused, her grip loosening.

Jinx exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the cold air. With slow, deliberate movements, she raised her hands—experimenting with how the air responded to her gestures.

At first, nothing happened.

Jinx’s frustration grew, her movements sharper, more desperate.

Then, a faint gust of wind burst outward, carrying dirt and pebbles into the air. Jinx stumbled back, her heart pounding, staring at her hands, her breath hitching as the realization settled in.

The air—it moved when she moved—it wasn’t just a coincidence or a fluke.

Jinx flexed her fingers, the memory of the gust still fresh in her mind. Pink eyes darted around the barren landscape, searching for answers where none existed.

“What is this…?” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling, her body frozen, hesitating as her thoughts spiraling.

The logical part of her mind screamed for an explanation, but there was none—at least, none that she knew of.

In Zaun, she only heard of magic, and the only time she’s seen it with her own eyes, but they didn’t call it magic; they’d called it the Arcane, or Hex Tech.

It was something old and feared, a power once wielded by the mages before they were wiped out, but all was left behind was those cursed crystals. Jinx had read about it in the notes she stole from Piltover—the power of runes, of energy harnessed and weaponized.

But here…was this magic? Was the air bending to her will because of some dormant power within her that she wasn’t aware of? 

“Magic…” she muttered aloud, her voice bitter and laced with disbelief,  flexing her hands again, her movements slow and deliberate this time.

The air responded faintly, swirling like an obedient servant.

Jinx’s stomach churned.

Was this why the old woman had given her the map? Did she know about this? Was it some kind of cruel test or a game?

“May the spirits watch over you, little Airbender,” The old woman’s words resurfaced within Jinx’s mind. 

Jinx bit her lip, trying to suppress the rising panic. “Great,” She muttered darkly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Stranded in some weird world, and now I’m a freaking mage.” Jinx hissed, pacing back and forth, her boots crunching against the rocky ground.

If she could move air—bend it, or whatever this was—then maybe there was more to this place than she’d realized. Maybe this wasn’t just a cruel twist of fate. And as much as she wanted to dismiss it, Jinx couldn’t ignore the way the air felt in her hands, the faint hum of power that coursed through her veins tainted by Shimmer. 

It was dangerous, yes, but it was hers.

Jinx’s pink eyes narrowed.

If this was magic, then fine. She’d figure out how to use it to accomplish her mission. Taking a deep breath, Jinx turned back toward the cliffs, still didn’t trust this place, but the old woman had been onto something. 

“You must keep yourself hidden—your hair, your eyes. You mustn’t let the Fire Nation see you.” The old lady pleaded, Jinx could recall back, yet she thought about the Underground—already feeling an echo of feeling misplaced and yet a longing for something familiar, even if it was only filled with painful memories. 

Jinx shakes her head, resigned because this isn’t about finding a way back—now it was about surviving here, in this strange, unforgiving world.

'I’m not going to waste time finding a way back, not like I can remember how I got here…even if there is one, who’s left to go back to?’  Jinx tightened her grip on her bags and started forward again, the wind at her back, urging her onward.

‘If I can move air…maybe I can use it," Her mind drifted, dim pink eyes staring ahead. "...and take me somewhere far away and finally go away for good forever.' 

It was slow, grueling work as Jinx scaled the rocky cliffs with her bare hands, her purple bag strapped tightly to her back. Each step was a battle against her trembling limbs and the unforgiving terrain.

Whenever Jinx felt herself slipping, she called upon the wind. It was clumsy and unpredictable at first—more bursts of air than controlled bending—but it pushed her upward, giving her the extra force she needed to keep climbing.

Her frustration bubbled to the surface with every failed attempt as she cursed under her breath, her voice echoing against the cliffs.

But she didn’t stop.

Jinx climbed higher and higher, her hands bloodied and raw, her muscles burning with exertion. The wind seemed to guide her now, responding to her movements with more precision as it carried her upward in small bursts, catching her when she faltered.

Hours passed, the sun sank below the horizon, and the stars lit her path as she climbed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, reaching to the temple, Jinx pulled herself over the final ledge, her body collapsing onto the cold stone floor.

She lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, her limbs trembling uncontrollably. Pink eyes staring at the twinkling stars above, greeting her arrival—heaving, body aching and her stomach grumbling.

When Jinx finally sat up, her pink eyes scanned the ancient temple, the towering spires and intricate carvings were weathered but unmistakable as the air was thin and crisp, carrying a profound stillness that made her chest tighten.

Jinx rose to her feet slowly, her purple and green bag hanging heavily from her shoulder. She stared at the empty expanse before her, the weight of her journey settling over her like a thick fog.

This was it.

The Southern Air Temple.

Her hands tightened around the straps of her bags. She hadn’t come here to find hope or redemption, no, she had come here to end the cycle of Jinx. And now, she had everything she needed to finish what she started.

The highest floor of the Southern Air Temple was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of wind that whistled through the open spaces. Sunlight streamed in through the broken windows, casting long shadows across the stone walls. Dust hung in the air, disturbed only by the occasional movements of the girl sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Jinx’s purple bag lay open beside her, its contents scattered across the floor—tools, scraps of metal, wires, and fragments from her old life.

The air was thick with the metallic scent of her work and the faint hum of Hex Gem energy. She worked with unwavering focus, her hands moving deftly as she dissected her Chomper grenade. The small explosive’s delicate parts were pried apart with precision, her glowing pink eyes reflecting in its polished surfaces.

The wooden headpiece was the next step. Jinx had carved it with care, shaping the crude material into the familiar, grinning visage of her Monkey Bomb.

Each detail was etched with precision, the work of a mind that knew this creation intimately. Her tools lay strewn about—pliers, hammers, files—all stolen from the village, leftover scraps and jagged pieces of metal surrounded her like a chaotic nest.

Jinx barely noticed the passage of time.

Hours bled into days as she hunched over her work, her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders after she unbraided her twin locks. The strands fell messily, whipped by the faint breeze created by her Airbending, though she was too preoccupied to notice or care.

Food sat untouched nearby, crusted and stale after countless of days of neglect. A pile of clothes lay discarded and forgotten in the corner, and fresh bandages, stolen alongside the tools, remained in their original wrappings.

She wouldn’t need them where she was going, anyway. 

Jinx spent hours tinkering, pouring every ounce of her energy into building her Monkey Bomb. The familiar hum of its core’s circular shape within her hand, setting the gem into her bomb as it shuts its jaws, its faint pink glow of its pink eyes illuminating her weary face.

When it was done, she held it in her hands, examining her work, the Monkey Bomb stared back at her with its blinking pink eyes, its sad, frowning face a mirror of her own.

The beeping started softly, its rhythm steady and deliberate, perfectly in time with the glow of its eyes. Jinx stared at it, her fingers tracing the edges of the pin, her thumb resting lightly on the metal. Sinking to the floor, her back pressed against the cold stone wall, knees were drawn to her chest, her bare feet brushing against the worn dusty floor.

Her boots lay forgotten in the corner, and her hands bore the scars of her struggle—dried blood crusted around her nails from where she had clawed at her own skin.

Her blue hair spilled around her like a chaotic halo, unkempt and wild, as if reflecting the storm raging inside her.

She sat there for hours, rocking back and forth, her body exhausted but her mind too restless to sleep. The Monkey Bomb rested in her lap, its beeping a cruel lullaby that kept her grounded in the moment.

‘This is it,’ Her gaze fixed on the glowing eyes of the bomb. ‘Tomorrow, I’ll break the cycle. Once and for all.’

Jinx didn’t notice the sun rising the next morning, it’s faint orange light crept across the floor, brushing against her huddled form.

Her decision made. 

Tomorrow was the day.

What Jinx didn’t know was that tomorrow, her life would collide with destiny. She didn’t know that the Avatar would return to his home, nor did she realize how drastically her plans would change.

For now, Jinx waited, hunched over her creation, alone in the vast emptiness of the cold temple.

The final night was suffocatingly silent.

Jinx sat curled against the wall of the highest floor in the Southern Air Temple, cradling her Monkey Bomb in her lap as the temple itself felt like a mausoleum, ancient and hollow, its halls echoing faintly with the sound of distant wind.

The Monkey Bomb’s steady beeping was the only sound in her world, each pulse of light from its sad pink eyes lit up her face in the dim room, casting faint shadows across her hollow cheeks.

Jinx’s mind was a storm—a chaotic blend of voices, memories, and thoughts, all tumbling over one another as she stared at the bomb as if it were alive, her thumb brushing against the pin in small nervous circles.

“It’s just one pull,” She whispered into the empty room, her voice hoarse from days of silence.

“One pull, and…boom. Lights out.” Her own words lingered in the air like a ghost, closing her eyes tightly as if it would be enough to shut out the voices that they didn’t stop.

“You’re a jinx.” Vi's voice, sharp and cutting.

“You killed her...she's dead because of you, you let her die.” Claggor's voice echoed, full of destain and disbelief.  

Mylo scoffed.“She's a jinx, what else is there to expect? Look at me, Jinx! I know you can hear me! Look at her! You killed her!”

Jinx winced, eyes burning underneath her eyelids, hands gripping at her arm until her nails left small crescents in her skin as it drew blood with the hope that the pain will keep her distracted from the things she didn’t want to hear, but the voices were relentless.

His voice, bitter and angry. “That's all you're good for, ruining everything around you.” 

Mylo added, sharp, cruel and merciless. “You’re the one who should be dead, not us, and yet here you are. Do give this world a favor Jinx and just pull the fucking pin, just die already.” 

Opening her pink eyes again, staring at the bomb that will end the voices, finally putting an end to her. Rocking herself back and forth, arms wrapping tightly around her knees as her breathing grew shallow as the voices didn’t stop.

Vi’s not here anymore. 

'I'm stuck here.'

Silco’s gone.

'I k-killed him.'

Ekko's gone. 

'He's dead. I-I killed him'

Isha’s not here.

'I killed her.'

Nobody’s here. 

Nobody ever stays.

Her pink eyes dimmed further.  “Nobody’s coming, Jinx.”

The Monkey Bomb blinked back at her in rhythm, as if agreeing.

The hours dragged on, the night felt endless, each moment stretching into an eternity as her exhaustion clawed, but she couldn’t sleep. The voices were too loud, too tangled, and the silence of the temple only amplified the chaos in her mind. 

Jinx shifted her position, stretching her legs out in front of her, her bare feet brushed against the cold stone floor, a small grounding sensation in an otherwise unmoored world. She stared at her toes for a long time, flexing them absentmindedly, as if testing whether she was still real.

“Not gonna need these feet anyway,” She muttered, a weak attempt at humor that fell flat even to her own ears. Her hands moved to her long hair, which hung loose and tangled around her shoulders.

Jinx ran her fingers through it absently, pulling at the strands until they knotted further. A Part of her wanted to braid it again, to feel some sense of familiarity, but another part of her whispered: 'Why bother?’

Jinx let her hands fall to her sides, limp and useless as the room felt colder now, though she didn’t bother to wrap herself in the clothes, nor the green cloak the old woman had given her.

They lay forgotten in a pile, like a life she’d already discarded.

At one point, Jinx lifted the Monkey Bomb and held it up to her face, staring into its glowing pink eyes stared back at her.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” She said softly, her voice trembling.

“They call me a jinx… but I for a moment I thought…I really thought that maybe I’d get it right just once.” Her lips twitched, as if trying to form a smile, but it never came.

Instead, a single tear slipped down her cheek, surprising her, wiping it away quickly, almost angrily. “No. No tears. This is good.” She repeated it like a mantra, her voice growing steadier with each word as she curled back into herself, hugging the Monkey Bomb close to her chest.

'One more night, Jinx. Just one more night.' Her breath hitched as the beeping matched the rhythm of her breathing, she closed her eyes, willing herself to let the night pass quickly.

Time flies, stars faded, and the first light of dawn crept into the temple, Jinx remained in the same spot. She hadn’t moved, her body stiff and aching from hours of stillness while her Monkey Bomb rested in her lap, its beeping now ingrained in her mind like a ticking clock.

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow she will break the cycle.

Tomorrow, her story will end.

She didn’t yet know that her story was just beginning.

The somber atmosphere of the Southern Air Temple weighed heavily on Team Avatar. After Aang’s devastating discovery of Monk Gyatso’s skeletal remains surrounded by those of Fire Nation soldiers, grief rippled through the small group.

Aang’s initial shock had unleashed the Avatar State in a swirl of raw, uncontainable sorrow and anger. Katara and Sokka’s urgent words of comfort and their reminders that they were his family now had eventually grounded him.

As the glowing light faded from his tattoos and eyes, Aang collapsed to the ground, his small frame wracked with sobs. His cries echoed—a haunting reminder of how alone he truly felt.

Through the silence that followed, Aang whispered his greatest fear aloud, his voice shaking with heartbreak as it punctured a deep large hole in his chest that felt heavy and held an unbearable ache, he never thought or expected he'd have to live with. 

A part of him wished he stayed in that iceberg.  

“I really am the last Airbender…” His voice cracked, tears rolling down his cheeks as his small hand clenched at the fabric of his chest where his heart shattered as the looniness washed over him.    

Katara and Sokka were quick to embrace him, their arms wrapping tightly around the sobbing boy, mourning for the loss that has long since passed.

"You're not alone, Aang. We're right here." Katara’s soothed, tears welling up in her eyes as she felt her chest ache seeing Aang break apart. 

"We're not leaving you behind, you're stuck with us." Sokka’s firm presence anchored Aang as he grieved, he hugged tighter as the boy's body trembled.

Minutes passed, eventually Aang’s sobs subsided into quiet sniffles. The siblings helped him to his feet, Katara holding his hand while Sokka steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. Slowly, they began the walk back to the temple, their movements slow and deliberate as though any sudden noise might shatter Aang’s fragile calm.

They entered the main structure, Aang's gray eyes downcast staring at his feet as he walked forwards, feeling unreal and hurting before he heard something...it was faint. 

He stopped suddenly, head tilted slightly to the side, his brows furrowing listening closely. 

“What is it, Aang?” Katara asked, her tone gentle.

“I..I think I hear something,” Aang said, his voice just above a whisper.

Katara stilled and listened carefully.

A faint sound drifted down from above—a soft, almost ethereal humming, the melody carried on the wind, barely audible yet hauntingly present.

“I hear it too,” Katara confirmed, her eyes widening.

Sokka frowned, glancing around warily. “Could just be the wind,” He offered. “Or… something worse.” He added, his hand instinctively rested on the hilt of his boomerang. 

Aang shook his head, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity, “No. That’s not the wind. It’s someone…someone’s humming.” He took a step forward, his footing steady now as the sorrow in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a spark of cautious hope.

“Come on,” He said, his voice firmer now.

Katara followed immediately, her own curiosity piqued.

Sokka hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the empty temple grounds before sighing and trailing after them.

The three of them moved in near silence, following the faint hum that seemed to call them higher and higher within the temple. Each step felt heavier than the last, the sound growing clearer yet more haunting as they climbed.

At last, they reached the highest floor of the Southern Air Temple, massive windows let in streams of sunlight, golden rays casting a warm glow over the ancient stonework.

And there, sitting on the cold floor surrounded by scraps of metal and tools, was a girl. Her hair was long, unkempt, and impossibly blue, with loose strands fluttering faintly in the breeze, hunched over as she sat cross-legged, her bare feet tucked beneath her.

A strange, monkey-shaped contraption sat on the floor in front of her, its glowing pink eyes blinking rhythmically.

The girl herself was humming softly, the sound low and sad, her voice trembling as though on the verge of breaking. Fingers idly traced patterns in the dust on the floor as her long blue hair swayed gently in the unseen currents of air that seemed to follow her.

Aang’s breath caught in his throat. His wide eyes locked onto her, his mind struggling to comprehend the sight before him as Katara and Sokka exchanged a glance, equally unsure of what they were seeing.

The humming suddenly stopped.

The girl’s head tilted slightly, her fingers pausing mid-motion. Slowly, she turned her head to glance over her shoulder, revealing her glowing pink eyes. The gaze she met was not one of hostility or anger but one of surprise, confusion, and—for a brief, fleeting moment—something that looked like a tiny spark of flickering hope.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Jinx’s voice broke the silence. “…What do you want?” she asked, her tone flat, devoid of any emotion beyond weariness.

Aang took a hesitant step forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t know what to say, but one thought echoed loudly in his mind:

She’s an Airbender.

End of Chapter 1.

Chapter Text

The air inside the Southern Air Temple was thick with silence.

Aang stood frozen before the skeletal remains of Gyatso, his once-lively eyes clouded with disbelief and overwhelming grief as the staff in his hands trembled as his breath came in shallow, ragged gasps.

He couldn’t accept it— not this.

“Aang…” Katara whispered, reaching out to him, her voice heavy with sorrow.

Aang couldn't hear her, for his world narrowed to the emptiness of the temple, the hollow echo of memories long gone, and the grim truth staring him in the face: 

Aang is alone.

The air around him began to shift, a faint glow emanated from Aang’s tattoos and eyes, a surge of energy coursed through him as the air whipped around him, scattering ashes and debris.

Katara shielded her face against the growing gust. “Aang, no! Please, calm down!”

The ground beneath them trembled, cracks forming in the ancient stone.

Sokka grabbed Katara’s arm, pulling her back. “What’s happening to him?” He shouted over the roar of the wind.

“He’s in pain!” Katara cried, desperation lacing her voice, stepping forward, braving through the storm. “Aang! You have to stop!”

“I’m here! We’re here! You’re not alone, Aang! Please …” Tears streaked her face as she reached out to him. “Monk Gyotso! The other Airbenders may be gone! But we’re right here!!” 

“Sokka and I—W-We’re your family now!!” Katara cried out to Aang with desperation within her voice as her words pierced through the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. 

“We’re not going anywhere! We’re here for you Aang!” Sokka screams out to the young Avatar as he shields his face with his arms.  

Slowly, the glow in his eyes dimmed, the winds dying down to a whisper as Aang collapsed to his knees, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed.

Katara knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around his trembling form, “We’ll get through this,” she whispered, “Together.”

“I really am the last Airbender.” Aang cried, endless tears rolling his cheeks.

Aang stepped forward cautiously, his voice trembling. “Who…who are you ?”

The girl’s hands were freezing mid-motion. Her finger on the pin waiting to just about to pull and end it right here, right now, however it seems like Kindred wouldn’t be reaping her this time. 

Slowly, she looked up, her expression guarded. Her glowing eyes flicked between them before narrowing, “Who’s asking?”

Aang swallowed hard, his heart racing, “I’m Aang.”

Her brows furrowed, and for a long moment, she said nothing, her gaze piercing. Finally, she leaned back, crossing her arms, “Great. Another weirdo to add to the list.”

Sokka bristled. “ Weirdo? You’re the one glowing!”

Katara shot him a warning glare before stepping forward, “We didn’t mean to intrude. We just…we heard your humming. It’s beautiful.”

The girl’s expression softened briefly before hardening again, “What do you care?” Jinx avoids their gazes, her shoulders hunched, her voice low and strained as her Monkey Bomb lies beside her within the palm of her hand, finger off the pin, half-hidden under her tools.

Aang senses something deeper. “You’re not from here, are you?” He asks gently.

Jinx hesitates. “Does it matter?” she mutters, her hands trembling as she grips her knees, “I don’t belong anywhere.”

Sokka, always wary, leans over to Katara, “What’s with the weird contraption? You think it’s dangerous?”

“I didn’t ask for this!” Jinx suddenly snaps, her voice cracking. She flings a wrench to the side, her emotions erupting. Her outburst sends a small gust of wind spiraling through the room, scattering tools and dust.

Everyone freezes.

Katara’s eyes widened, “That…wasn’t the wind.”

Jinx blinks, panic crossing her face. “What’re you talking about?” Her stomach clenched and felt her heart drop. 

“That was you ,” Aang steps forward, his expression a mixture of awe and concern. “You really are…you’re an Airbender!”

Jinx backs away instinctively. “ No , no , I can’t be—” Another wave of wind bursts from her hands as her emotions spike. 

“ You must keep yourself hidden—your hair, your eyes. You mustn’t let the Fire Nation see you .”

The old lady pleaded, echoing within Jinx’s fractured mind. 

Jinx shook her head violently, backing further away as the tools scattered further away by the wind rattled on the floor. “No. No, I-I’m not . I don’t know what you're talking about,” She stammered, her voice rising in pitch.

Sokka, ever the skeptic, narrowed his eyes but kept his distance. “You’re definitely doing that,” He said, pointing to the spiraling air, “You can’t just deny it.”

“I’m not an Airbender!” She stumbles, only to see more wispy wild wind to contradict her, looking down at her hands like they’ve betrayed her.

“You are!” Aang exclaimed, his voice gentle yet insistent. He stepped forward, holding his hands out to show he wasn’t a threat, “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to be scared. Airbending is a gift!”

“ You must keep yourself hidden—your hair, your eyes. You mustn’t let the Fire Nation see you .”

“A gift?” Jinx barked out a laugh that held no humor, her face twisting in disbelief and anger as her exhausted eyes gleamed brightly due the darkness under eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” She clenched her fists, her nails scratching against her Monkey Bomb as her mind raced. She couldn’t trust them—she can’t trust no one. They might be playing nice now, but what if they saw her as a freak ? What if they turned her into some higher authority in this strange world?

Katara took a step forward, her tone soothing. “Listen, we’re not going to hurt you. We just want to help—”

“Help?!” Jinx snapped, her voice cracking again. “You don’t even know me! You don’t know what I’ve done!” Her breath quickened, and the air around her started to swirl, her panic manifesting as another wave of wind.

Aang flinched at her words but didn’t back down, “I-I know this is overwhelming, but you are an Airbender,” He said softly, tone as steady as he could manage. "Y-You don’t have to be scared. I can help you—teach you—”

“Stop!” Jinx interrupted, shaking her head as her pink eyes burned with unshed tears. “You don’t get it! I didn’t ask for this! I don’t want this!”

The room fell into a tense silence, the swirling air gradually settling as Jinx’s breathing slowed. She looked at the group with wide, haunted eyes, her body trembling—unable to think clearly from countless sleepless nights since she’s been stranded. 

“I know enough what happens when people find out you’re different,” She said finally, her voice barely above a whisper, “It never ends well.”

Katara exchanged a glance with Aang, her expression softening, “We swear, we’re not those people. You don’t have to hide from us.”

Aang nodded, his gaze earnest, “You’re not alone. I-I know what it’s like to feel lost, to not understand why things happened the way they did. But you are an Airbender, like me.” He couldn't help it, his face lit up with joy, despite the tension.

“You’re the first Airbender I’ve met since…since my people…” His voice softens, his smile dips as the weight of what he’s saying seems to hit both of them, but for entirely different reasons. 

Jinx is silent, her chest heaving as she felt she was going to hurl but couldn’t since she’s starved all this time who knows how long she's been 

“I don’t want it,” She whispers hoarsely, “I can’t handle this.”

Aang steps closer, his tone gentle but firm, “You don’t have to handle it alone. I’ll help you. We’ll help you.”

Jinx shakes her head, turning away. “You don’t understand. I ruin everything. Everyone.”

Silence 

She glances at Aang, who offers her a small, hopeful smile, the wind howled faintly through the hallowed halls of the temple as Jinx sat on the cold stone floor, tools scattered around her. Her unbraided long hair hung in uneven strands, and her shoulders were stiff with tension.

Team Avatar stood a few feet away, exchanging uncertain glances.

Katara stepped forward first, her voice gentle but steady, “Hey, why not start with getting to know our names? I’m Katara, and this is my brother, Sokka.”

Sokka gave a curt nod but kept his hand near his boomerang, his blue eyes darting to the strange bomb-like object beside Jinx.

Aang stepped forward next, his smile soft but genuine. “And I’m Aang. What’s your name?”

Jinx didn’t look up at first, her nails digging into her palms as if bracing herself. Finally, she muttered, “Jinx.”

Sokka blinked. “Jinx?” He said it like it was the punchline to a joke he hadn’t quite heard. His brow lifted slightly, and for a second, the tension in his stance relaxed—not out of mockery, but confusion.

“That’s…a name,” He muttered, scratching behind his ear before giving a little shrug. “Sounds more like a bad-luck charm than a name, though.”

Jinx’s jaw tensed. Her head finally lifted, and her pink eyes—those eerie, luminous pink eyes—locked onto him with a slow-burning glare.

“Exactly.”

That shut him up.

“Sokka!” Katara shot him a sideways look, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. 

“ What?! ” Sokka whispered, flinching. “I didn’t mean it like—okay, maybe I did, but—”  He turned back to Jinx, hands lifted in clumsy surrender. “I wasn’t trying to…insult you or anything, honest! I just— look, I'm sorry.”

Jinx didn’t respond right away. Her eyes flicked to the Monkey Bomb again, then to Aang, who hadn’t moved an inch from where he stood, still looking at her like she wasn’t some ticking weapon—but a miracle.

Silence

“…I named myself,” She said finally, the weight behind the words heavier than any of them expected. 

Aang frowned, eyes narrowing in gentle confusion. “You…named yourself?”

Jinx gave a humorless smile. “Yeah. Seemed fitting.”

The silence that followed wasn’t just awkward—it was…heavy .

Sokka opened his mouth, then shut it. For once, no sarcasm, no snappy comeback. Just him… staring at her, at the quiet pain she tried to stuff down behind that flicker of defiance. Eventually, he sighed and scratched the back of his neck nervously.

Katara knelt slightly, trying to meet her gaze, “It’s nice to meet you, Jinx. Are you okay? You seem…” She hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Lost,” Jinx finished flatly, her voice cold, “I am. But it’s none of your business.” She shifted away, keeping a wary eye on them.

Aang tilted his head, concerned, flickering in his gray eyes. “We can help you.”

Jinx let out a dry, bitter laugh. “Help me? You don’t even know me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Aang said earnestly, “I can see it—you’re hurting. And this place…it’s no place to be by yourself. Especially not when you’re…” He trailed off, his gaze darting to her hands, trembling as they rested on her lap.

Jinx stiffened, her jaw tightening. “I’m fine. I don’t need anyone.”

Aang frowned but didn’t move away, “I’ve been alone too,” He said quietly, “For a long time. And I know what it feels like to think you can handle everything on your own.”

Jinx’s eyes flicked to him for a moment before quickly looking away.

“I’m not leaving you here,” Aang continued, his tone firm but kind. “Even if you don’t want to come with us now, I-I can’t just walk away and leave you behind.”

Katara and Sokka exchanged a glance as the silence hung heavy in the air.

Jinx glanced at her Monkey Bomb, setting it down beside her, yet her fingers twitching toward it before pulling back. “I don’t know what you people want from me,” She muttered.

Aang smiled faintly, trying to keep the mood light. “How about we start with a conversation? We’re pretty good at those.”

Jinx didn’t respond, but she didn’t tell them to leave either.

Jinx shifted uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting as she eyed the group, “What do you even want to talk about?” She muttered, her voice sharp but quieter this time.

“Well,” Aang started, keeping his tone light. ”—how did you end up here? This temple is pretty remote.”

Jinx’s gaze flicked to him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Does it matter? I’m just…passing through.”

“Passing through with…that? ” Sokka gestured toward the Monkey Bomb with his Boomerang, his suspicion clear. “Looks more like you’re setting up for something.”

Jinx tensed, pulling the bomb closer. “Don’t touch it,” She snapped, her voice cutting like a blade.

Sokka raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Wasn't going to. Just saying, it doesn’t exactly scream ‘casual traveler.’”

Katara shot him a look before turning back to Jinx. “We’re not here to bother you or take anything from you. We’re just…trying to understand.”

Jinx’s lip twitched as if she wanted to retort, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she hugged her knees, her fingers pressing into the fabric of her pants.

Aang took a small step closer, careful not to startle her, “You’re not from around here, are you?” He asked again, gently trying to start and keep the conversation flowing, but careful, more mindful in his choice of words to avoid Jinx shutting them out. 

“No,” She admitted after a long pause, her voice low, “Not even close.”

“Where are you from?” Aang asked, his curiosity genuine.

Jinx’s shoulders rose in a defensive shrug, “Somewhere I can’t go back to. Not that it matters.”

Aang’s expression softened, “I know what that’s like,” He said quietly, “Feeling like you don’t have a home anymore.”

Jinx’s eyes darted to him, a flicker of surprise breaking through her guarded expression.

“Look,” Aang continued, crouching slightly to be at her level. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. I can help you. Promise.”

Jinx let out a hollow laugh, “You don’t even know me, kid. I’m a walking disaster. You’d be way better off leaving me here.”

Aang shook his head firmly. “No one deserves to be alone. Not when there’s a chance to help.”

Katara nodded, her voice warm. “Whatever you’re going through, we can figure it out together. But you have to trust us, even just a little.”

Jinx hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. For a moment, she seemed on the verge of saying something, but then she clenched her fists.

“You don’t get it,” She whispered, barely audible.

“Then help us understand,” Aang said, his voice steady.

Jinx looked at him, her eyes clouded with pain and doubt. “Why do you care so much?”

Aang’s smile was small but sincere. “Because I see someone who’s hurting. And because…if you’re an Airbender like me, then we’re not alone anymore.”

Jinx’s breath hitched—a sudden gust of wind swirled through the room, her emotions spiked again as her tools clattered against the ground, and Sokka let out a startled yelp.

Sokka held his boomerang tightly but didn’t raise it, “Okay, let’s all just…stay calm,” He said, his tone awkward but non-threatening, “We don’t need any more flying tools.”

Jinx shot him a glare but didn’t respond. Her eyes darted between the group, her chest heaving as she fought to regain control, feeling overwhelmed as the air wisps, swirl around her. 

"See?" Aang’s eyes lit up, his voice filled with wonder and unwavering hope. “You are an Airbender.”

Jinx froze, staring at her hands as if they belonged to someone else. “It’s just…it’s just magic.”

“Magic?” Katara echoed, her brows furrowing. “No, Jinx. That wasn’t magic. What you just did was bending.”

“Bending?” Jinx asked, her voice dripping with skepticism. “What the hell is bending supposed to mean?” She looked between them, her arms wrapped tightly around herself hugging her Monkey Bomb to her chest. 

Sokka blinked, taken aback by her raw defiance—but it only lasted a second. “You seriously don’t know what bending is? Have you been living under a rock?” He raised a brow, shifting his weight as he rested his hands on his hips, doing his best to sound casual but with an edge of dry sarcasm. 

Jinx’s stare sharpened. “Try underground.”

The response was cold. Flat. Too honest to be a joke.

Sokka’s expression twitched—he didn’t expect that. “…Right.” His snark faded slightly, the usual retort caught in his throat. 

Aang stepped forward again before the tension could thicken, trying to keep the moment from spiraling. “Bending is what we call the ability to control the elements. I’m an Airbender, Katara’s a Waterbender, and Sokka, well—”

Jinx’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Prove it.”

Without hesitation, Katara raised her hands, her movements fluid and deliberate. From her water pouch, a small stream of water emerged, swirling gracefully in the air between them, then let the water return to her pouch.

Jinx’s eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly before she quickly masked her reaction. “Okay…so you can do tricks with water. What’s that got to do with me?”

Aang, his expression a mix of concern and excitement. “Because you’re like me, Jinx,” he said, his voice gentle. “I’m an Airbender. I can control the air, just like you can. You’re like me—”

Jinx glanced away, her arms tightening around herself, “No, I’m not like you. I don’t know what this is, but it’s not…bending or whatever you call it.”

“You can call it whatever you want,” Aang said patiently, “—but thats Airbending. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it.”

Katara, gentler, more grounded. “What Aang means is that you’re not cursed, Jinx. You’re not broken. What you have…it’s part of you. It’s special. It’s something that can be trained, something that can help people.”

Jinx’s fingers tightened around the Monkey Bomb, her mouth parted, like she wanted to argue, but the words didn’t come as her lip trembled.

“Hurting people…it’s what I’m good at,” She said hollowly. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at.” 

Silence

Even the wind in the ruins seemed to still as Aang’s smile faltered, the air between them now heavy with sorrow instead of tension, and for a moment, no one spoke.

Not even Sokka had a comeback.

Jinx’s voice hung in the air, raw and ragged, and the walls of the ancient temple felt smaller around it—like even the ghosts that lingered in the stone dared not interrupt her grief.

Then, softly—quiet enough to almost be missed—Aang knelt down in front of her. Not close, just enough so that he was no longer towering above her as his eyes, wide and gray like the sky before a storm, locked onto hers.

“I did too,” He said, the words catching on something heavy in his throat.

Jinx blinked, startled.

Aang’s gaze lowered, staring at the floor beneath them. “I—I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Silence

Jinx’s eyes darted to the floor, her breathing uneven, her own mind screamed at her to run, to get as far away from these people as possible, but a small part of her—a part that’s clawing to reach the surface, a part she’s trying to drown and get rid of.

Dares to consider. 

Sokka, standing off to the side, raised a hand dramatically. “Well, since everyone’s sharing, I’d like to announce that I’m a perfectly normal human being. No bending, no magic, just good old-fashioned genius and charm.”

Jinx blinked at him, her tension breaking slightly as her lips twitched. “Genius and charm, huh?” She said, her voice rough and dripping with sarcasm.

“Absolutely,” Sokka replied, puffing out his chest. “The best non-bending human the world has to offer.”

Katara rolled her eyes but gave a small smile. “Don’t mind him,” She said, turning back to Jinx. “What Aang is trying to say is that being an Airbender doesn’t make you less than anyone else.”

Jinx stared blankly at Katara as the weight of their words settled over her. She looked down at her hands, still trembling from the surge of power she couldn’t explain.

“I didn’t ask for this,” She muttered, her voice barely audible.

Aang took a step closer, his voice soft. “I know. Neither did I. But it’s not something to be afraid of, Jinx. You’re not alone in this.”

Jinx’s eyes flickered to him, a storm of doubt and fear swirling in her gaze. “Maybe I want to be alone.” She muttered, retreating to a corner as the air stirred briefly around her, like a breath held and let go—a breeze that didn’t know whether it was meant to flee…or stay. 

Aang exchanged a worried glance with Katara, his heart aching for her. He didn’t know what had happened in her past, but he could see the walls she had built to protect herself.

Sokka’s face shifted, the usual sarcasm stripped away. His mouth opened like he was going to say something—maybe joke, maybe deflect—but nothing came out. His blue eyes dropped to the Monkey Bomb cradled in her arms, then slowly lifted to meet hers as his mind picked and chose his words very carefully. 

“You’re not the only one who’s hurt people,” Sokka said, voice low and serious. “This war’s made sure of that.”

Aang’s expression saddened, his youthful features tugged by the weight of everything that’s happened in so little time since he woke up. “Hurting people doesn’t make you evil. What you do after…that’s what matters.” 

Jinx shook her head quickly, her long locks of hair slipping loose over her shoulders. “No. No, you don’t get it. I’ve chosen to hurt people.”

There it was. 

The truth she expects to make them turn away.

The ugly thing she kept coiled behind her teeth. 

She waited for the disgust, for them to finally leave her alone. 

But instead, Aang scooted closer—not enough to crowd her, just enough to be steady. “That doesn’t mean you can’t change.”

“You don’t even know me,” Jinx bit back, voice sharp, cornered.

“No, we don’t,” Katara agreed quietly. “But we’re trying.”

“You think you’re the worst person in the world?” Sokka asked, blunt. “Guess what—there are people out there who’ve done worse. Who keep doing worse. And they don’t feel bad about it. You? You’re shaking.”

Jinx looked down—sure enough, her hands were trembling. “There is no good version of me," She said, her voice barely audible. “…all I do is make everything worse.”

A hush clung to the air, the kind that settled like dust in old corners—quiet, but heavy...Jinx’s words didn’t echo, but they might as well have. 

‘There is no good version of me…’

Aang’s throat tightened.

For a moment, no one moved.

Aang remained seated on the cold stone floor, cross-legged and unguarded—no staff in hand, no glow in his eyes, just a boy. Just a kid who knows the weight to carry guilt like a second skin.

“You’re wrong,” He said simply.

Jinx’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You’re wrong,” Aang repeated, not flinching. “There’s still a version of you that wants to be good. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be scared of the version that isn’t.” His voice wasn’t accusing—it was kind. Steady. That unbearable kind of kindness that made your throat burn if you weren’t ready for it.

Jinx stared at him like he was a ghost. “You really believe that?” she asked, almost mockingly.

Aang didn’t blink. “Yes. I do.”

Sokka crossed his arms. “Look, normally evil people brag about hurting others. You? You’re doing everything except bragging. You’re just trying to scare us away. That’s not evil—that’s fear talking.”

He stepped forward now, just a foot beside his little sister, enough to let Jinx know he wasn’t afraid. “You say we’d be better off without you. But if that were true, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to push us away.”

Jinx’s jaw clenched. Her grip on the Monkey Bomb didn’t tighten— but she didn’t pull the pin either.

Katara exhaled slowly, her voice soft like ripples across a calm lake, “You’ve lost people, haven’t you?” She asked gently.

Silence  

Jinx didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to.

“Yeah,” Katara said, her gaze sympathetic. “So have we.”

Jinx’s pink eyes flashed, her voice bitter and raw. “That’s not the same.”

“…you’re right,” Katara said. “It’s not. No one’s pain is the same. But we still understand what it means to live with it.”

Aang leaned forward slightly, gray eyes never leaving hers. “You think being an Airbender is a curse. That what you are is wrong. But I’m telling you—you don’t have to carry that alone; I can help if you let me.”

Jinx sat still quiet, knees drawn tight, her toes curling into the stone marble floor. Blood had already dried beneath her nails—little half-moons of pain she carved into herself. Holding in one hand close to her chest the Monkey Bomb, her other hand gripping her feet, her thumb pressed down again, harder, like she was trying to force herself to feel something—Or maybe anything.

Sokka noticed first. His sharp blue eyes caught the faint stream of red sliding down her foot—and the way her body was coiled so tightly it looked like she might snap in half if someone so much as breathed too loud.

“Hey—” His voice cut through the quiet, a little more urgent now, “You’re bleeding.”

Aang’s eyes widened as he looked down, his chest tightening at the sight as Jinx’s thumb pressed harder, drawing out another trickle of blood. 

Katara saw, her breath caught in her throat as she stepped forward—not too fast, but enough to make her presence known. Jinx flinched as though struck, instantly yanking her knees in tighter, hiding her foot, her hand clenching over the Monkey Bomb like a shield. 

“Jinx…” she said softly, eyes darting to the trail of red that now stained the cold stone beneath the girl’s bare foot. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing .” She gritted out, looking away as her blue hair flowed over her face like curtains. 

“No, it’s not nothing.” Katara said softly, kneeling now, slow and deliberate, hands raised—not to heal, not yet—but to show she meant no harm. “You’re hurting yourself.”

“It’s just a scratch.” Jinx didn’t look at her, gaze remained dropped to the floor, her breathing shallow, fingers twitching. She didn’t look up, jaw was clenched tight, her pink eyes locked on the small cut, almost like she was daring it to bleed more. 

Like she needed it to.

“No, it’s not,” Aang said quietly, his voice wavered. “You’re hurting .”

Katara gently reached into her pouch and pulled out a strip of clean cloth—white, worn, and soft. “Can I…?” She asked, not finishing the question, just gesturing toward Jinx’s foot.

Jinx didn’t move at first. Her shoulders were rigid, mouth set, breath coming in slow, strained pulls.

But she didn’t say no.

Didn’t pull away.

Didn’t throw a bomb.

That was enough.

Katara inched closer and began tending to the wound, her fingers deft and calm, movements practiced. “You don’t have to talk,” She murmured, voice like a quiet lullaby. “But we’re staying. Just so you know.”

Jinx looked away, face turned toward the stone wall, her throat bobbing with a hard swallow as she sat in the corner, hugging her knees as she held her Monkey Bomb close.

Aang watched silently, feeling his chest ache twist and hurt seeing the hurt and pain in front of him as Katara worked.

Still seated, keeping his movements slow. “Jinx,” He said gently, “I know this is a lot to take in. It must feel confusing and overwhelming.” He smiled faintly, “It did for me too, when I first learned what I was capable of.”

Jinx stared at him, her expression wavering between anger and desperation. “I’m not like you,” She said, her voice cracking, “I’m…broken.”

“You’re not broken,” Aang replied firmly, his voice filled with quiet conviction, "You’re just…hurting. And that’s okay. But this—your Airbending—it’s a part of you. Maybe even a part that can help you heal.”

Jinx shook her head, her hands gripping her knees tightly, “I can’t heal,” she muttered, almost to herself, “Not after…” She trailed off, her voice choked with emotion.

Aang hesitated before adding.  “Then let me help you,” He said, “We’ll figure it out together. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Jinx looked up at him, her eyes brimming with pain and uncertainty. For a long moment, she said nothing, the silence stretching between them. 

Then, almost imperceptibly, she reluctantly nodded.

Katara’s smile was soft but encouraging. “That’s a good first step.”

Sokka relaxed slightly, though he still glanced warily at the Monkey Bomb, “Alright, but can we at least talk about that thing ?” He asked, pointing at the device, “Because I’m pretty sure it’s not a teapot.”

Jinx stiffened again, instinctively shielding her Monkey Bomb with her body, “It’s none of your business,” she snapped, the defensive edge returning to her voice.

Aang held up a hand, motioning for Sokka to back off, “We’ll talk about it later,” He said gently, “For now… let’s just focus on getting to know each other.”

Jinx’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction, though her grip on the bomb didn’t loosen, “Fine,” she muttered, “But don’t expect me to be all buddy-buddy with you.”

Aang smiled, his optimism unwavering, “That’s okay. We’ve got time.”

The wind brushed past them, softer —like a breath being let out.

Jinx’s breath caught—her fingers twitched over the Monkey Bomb, then pulled away from it completely as she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, burying her face in her hands. Her blue hair fell around her like a curtain, hiding her expression, but her shoulders trembled—once, twice—like the beginning of something she wasn’t ready to feel.

Sokka stepped back slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “…Well. This is officially the most intense meet-and-greet I’ve ever had.”

Katara elbowed him. Gently.

Aang, still crouched before her, tilted his head, “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he said, his voice soft. “We’ll be camping here for the night, and if you want…you want you can sit with us. No pressure.”

“Or you can ignore us and pretend we’re not here,” Sokka offered dryly. “That works too.”

Jinx lifted her head just enough to glare at him through her hair.

Sokka offered a half-hearted shrug. “Just saying.”

Silence returned—but not the same silence as before, this one was tentative, fragile, a kind of quiet that comes after something real is finally spoken aloud.

The temple was quiet save for the crackling of a small fire in the center of the open chamber. Shadows danced along the walls, cast by the flickering light as Team Avatar had set up camp for the night, unrolling their sleeping mats and gathering around the fire. 

Jinx sat apart from them, not too far, just leaning against the cold stone wall. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, Jinx sat a little apart from the others, her Monkey Bomb resting protectively by her side, and her glowing pink eyes flickered warily toward the group. She hadn’t spoken much since their first meeting, and every attempt to engage her had been met with curt responses or silence.

Katara handed Jinx a bowl of soup, “You should eat,” she said softly.

Jinx didn’t move at first. The steam from the bowl curled toward her face, bringing with it the rich scent of vegetables and herbs that should have made her stomach growl—but instead, her jaw clenched.

“I’m not hungry,” She muttered numbly, not looking up. Her voice was low, hollow, as if she were reciting it from memory rather than speaking it aloud.

Katara’s brows knit together. She didn’t pull the bowl away. Instead, she knelt down beside her, close but not too close—just enough that the firelight could catch the deep creases of worry between her eyes.

“You haven’t eaten all day,” She said gently, her voice laced with quiet insistence. “Maybe longer.”

Jinx’s shoulder twitched, but she didn’t respond, her eyes stayed fixed on the floor, unfocused, distant.

Katara glanced over her—really looked at her. 

The way her collarbones jutted sharply beneath the loose leather and fabric. The dark circles carved under her eyes like bruises that hadn’t faded in weeks. Her skin was pale—too pale, like it hadn’t seen sun or warmth in a long, long time. Her arms, wrapped around her knees, looked more like bone and tendon than strength.

“Jinx…” Katara’s voice softened even more. “You’re not okay, you should really eat, or you'll get sick."

That made Jinx shift, her eyes flickering toward Katara, unreadable. “I said I’m not hungry,” She repeated flatly, but her voice cracked at the end—just a fraction.

“I know,” Katara replied, not backing down, “But your body still needs something. Even a few spoonfuls.” She nudged the bowl slightly forward.

“You don’t have to finish all of it.” She added gently. 

Jinx stared at the bowl for a long moment before taking it, she muttered a quiet, reluctant “Fine,” without meeting Katara’s eyes.

Sokka had been watching from the edge of the firelight, chewing on a  vegetable that Katara had overcooked slightly. His blue eyes flicked toward the quiet interaction by the fire, watching Jinx accept the bowl. 

He didn’t say anything, just observing, but he hadn’t realized the breath he’d been holding slipped out. ‘She hadn’t hurled the soup across the room or snapped at Katara. That’s…progress, right? ’  

Sokka’s Boomerang rested across his lap, but his gaze wasn’t on it—it kept drifting toward the two girls by the wall.

He elbowed Aang lightly, keeping his voice low. “She took the soup.”

His gray eyes shifted toward Jinx, and a small, hopeful smile crept onto his face. “Yeah. She did.”

“Didn’t threaten anyone,” Sokka added, his tone somewhere between impressed and cautious. “I mean, I’m not saying we’re best friends now, but I’m also not dodging flying wrenches, so… ”

Aang leaned forward, with his soup in his hand, gripping his wooden spoon as he watched her. “She’s trying,” He said under his breath, barely audible. 

Sokka frowned, glancing toward Jinx again. The firelight caught the sharp angles of her face, the pink shimmer of her eyes dulled by exhaustion. 

Then, chewing loudly on his own meal, pointed his spoon toward Jinx, “So, what’s your deal? You’re an Airbender, but you don’t seem too thrilled about it.”

“Sokka,” Katara hissed, glaring at him.

“What?” He said defensively. “It’s a fair question!”

Katara sighed and shook her head, but said nothing more, choosing instead to take a quiet sip from her own bowl as the fire popped, sending a small ember floating upward before it vanished into the shadows above.

Jinx’s grip tightened on her bowl. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” she muttered, “I’m not sticking around forever. Don’t get used to me.”

Aang leaned forward, his tone gentle, “You don’t have to stay forever, Jinx. But while you’re here, we can help you. Airbending isn’t something you have to face alone.”

Jinx scoffed, “Help me? Like you helped that guy with the boomerang not make an idiot of himself?”

“Hey!” Sokka protested, his spoon clattering into his bowl, “Boomerang guy has a name, you know.”

Katara groaned, “Sokka, not now.”

Jinx smirked faintly at Sokka’s indignation, but it faded quickly as she glanced at Aang, “Why do you care so much?” she couldn’t help but ask again, feeling her eyes grow heavy.

Aang’s expression grew serious, “Because you’re an Airbender,” he said simply, “We’re the only ones left, Jinx. That means something.”

Jinx flinched, her fingers curling around the bowl, then quietly, her voice filled with bitterness. “I don’t even know how to control it. It just…happens.”

“That’s okay,” Aang replied, “I can teach you. We’ll take it slow, one step at a time, promise.”

"..." Jinx’s gaze dropped to the ground.

Sokka, already halfway through his own bowl, looked at Jinx with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “Random question,” he began, “—are your eyes always like that?”

“Sokka! Seriously, I'm about this close to throwing my shoe at you.” Katara hissed, glaring at him.

“What? I'm curious!” He said defensively, spoon still in his mouth, “I’m just asking. It’s not like glowing pink eyes are normal.”

Jinx’s lips curled into a faint smirk, “And carrying a boomerang around like it’s a weapon is?” she shot back.

Sokka straightened, clutching his boomerang protectively. “Hey, this thing has saved our lives more times than I can count.”

“Which isn’t saying much,” Katara muttered under her breath, earning a glare from Sokka.

Aang chuckled softly at their bickering before turning his attention back to Jinx, “Your hair and eyes—they’re…unique,” he said carefully, trying not to sound intrusive, “Do they mean something where you’re from?”

Jinx glanced at him, her expression guarded. “They mean I’m a freak,” she said flatly, her fingers tightening around the bowl.

Sokka’s chewing slowed.

Katara paused, frowning her eyes saddened. 

Aang frowned, his heart sinking at her words, “I don’t think you’re a freak,” he said sincerely, “I think you’re amazing.”

Jinx scoffed, her glowing eyes narrowing, “You just met me."

“That doesn’t change what I see,” Aang replied, his tone soft.

Jinx didn’t look at him, shifted against the stone, one arm curling around her legs while the other gripped the bowl like it might vanish if she let go. She stared down into the soup like it might try to answer for her, the steam curling lazily toward her face. Her fingers were wrapped tight around the bowl, knuckles pale, but she didn’t lift it to her lips.

Sokka’s chewing slowed. “It’s just soup,” He said, quieter this time, that earned him a faint glowing glare over the rim of the bowl, but no words—just that same guarded silence.

Katara gave him a sideways glare, but there was no heat behind it this time. Just tiredness, she understood, they all did. This was going to be slow. Careful. Like approaching a wounded animal that didn’t know whether to run or bite.

Jinx finally lifted the spoon, shakily, and took one small sip. It was the tiniest motion, the faintest sound of breath as it passed her lips—but all three of them noticed.

Aang’s expression brightened immediately, a quiet joy lighting his features. 

Katara didn’t smile. She only reached down and gently placed a folded cloth beside Jinx— something to clean her hands with, if she needed it. 

“Let me know if you want more,” she said simply.

Jinx didn’t answer. 

Silence

Jinx’s gaze lowered to the soup again, swallowed hard, her lips twitching as she stared at her own reflection on the surface of the broth as the silence that followed was uncomfortable. 

“I don’t want powers…this bending thing. I don’t want to be anything,” She muttered, glaring down at her soup. 

Katara’s heart ached. She lowered her bowl and scooted a little closer, careful not to make it feel like crowding. “You don’t have to be anything right now,” She said softly. “You can just be here.”

Jinx blinked slowly, her eyes flickering toward Katara— suspicious, unsure. Her fingers twitched as if debating whether to lift the spoon to her mouth or throw it across the room.

Eventually, she took a sip, small, quiet, but she didn’t spit it out or complain—she took a sip of the soup, more to avoid responding than because she was hungry.

Sokka glanced at Aang, his voice uncharacteristically thoughtful. “Guess not everyone grows up in a simi-peaceful little iceberg village, huh…”

Katara gave him a sidelong look. 

“I’m just saying,” He muttered, then cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Anyway… we’re here now. So maybe don’t worry so much about what came before.”

“…Right,” Jinx muttered. “Because none of you are scared of me.”

“Nope,” Sokka said without hesitation. “You’ve got glowing pink eyes, a strange looking Monkey I definitely don’t trust, and you shoot air out of your hands when you’re mad—but scary? Nah. You’re just…really weird.”

Jinx snorted through her nose— just barely as she rolled her eyes looking irritated. 

Katara, her voice gentle but firm, “You’re not a freak, Jinx. People might not understand you right away, but that doesn’t mean something’s wrong with you.”

Jinx’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, but it didn’t reach her eyes, “Is this the part where you all tell me how special I am and that I should just join your little group?”

Katara sighed, glancing at Aang for guidance.

Aang shook his head, his expression calm, “No. We’re not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to. But…” He hesitated, meeting her glowing pink eyes, “You deserve a chance to figure out who you are here. And we can help with that—if you let us.”

Jinx looked away, the tension in her posture easing slightly, “You’re awfully persistent for a kid.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Aang replied with a grin, lightening the mood.

Sokka leaned back, crossing his arms. “Well, if she’s sticking around, she’ll need to pull her weight. I’m not carrying all the supplies by myself.”

Katara shot him a sharp look, “Sokka, she hasn’t agreed to stay yet.”

“I didn’t say I was staying,” Jinx cut in, her tone defensive. “But…maybe I’ll stick around. Just for a little while.”

Aang’s face lit up with a hopeful smile, “That’s all we ask.”

Jinx rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel entirely unwelcome as the group settled into their sleeping mats, the fire burning low, Jinx remained awake, sitting against the wall. Her glowing eyes scanned the room, lingering on each member of the group as they drifted to sleep.

Jinx looked down at her Monkey Bomb resting beside her, her fingers brushing the metal casing. It was the only thing she truly trusted right now, the only constant in her fractured world. 

A promise. One pull. It’d all be over.

Just not this time.

With a quiet sigh, she pulled the blanket she was given tighter around herself, her thoughts a tangled mess. Left with the sound of Aang’s soft breathing nearby was oddly comforting, though she’d never admit it.

For tonight, at least, she wasn’t alone this time. 

The fire had dwindled to embers.

Soft snores filled the temple—Aang’s quiet breathing barely audible over the occasional rustle of Katara turning in her sleep.

Sokka hadn’t laid down yet. He sat up on his sleeping mat, arms resting on his knees, boomerang beside him. Normally, he’d be out like a light by now—snoring first, probably drooling second—but tonight…

Something about the silence didn’t sit right, or maybe it was the fact that someone else wasn’t sleeping.

His blue eyes drifted toward the far side of the chamber. Jinx sat exactly where she’d been since dinner ended, tucked into the same corner of wall and shadow, with a blanket Katara had given to her wrapped around her too-small frame. 

She hadn’t moved much, just…sat there. Awake . Watching. Her pink eyes caught faint bits of fireglow—still and eerie like distant lanterns at the bottom of a fogged-out canyon.

Her hair, long and wild, was draped across the floor like a spill of ink or dyed silk—so blue it almost looked unreal in the dark—letting the strands fall in uneven sheets that spread out like a river of smoke, wrapping around her like a tide that never pulled back.

She looked…

Small.

Not in a fragile way.

Just…

Small.

Like someone used to taking up as little space as possible.

Sokka exhaled through his nose, pulling his arms in tighter around his knees. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t shift. Didn’t want to startle her, but his eyes stayed on her, watching. 

Feeling a bit unnerved—not because she was dangerous, he didn’t trust her, not yet, but because she hadn’t blinked in a long time, and he was starting to worry she forgot how. All the while her Monkey contraption sat by her side like some metal guardian—silent, unmoving, loyal. 

Her fingers hovered near it, but not on the pin. 

Eventually, Sokka murmured, low—barely above a breath. “…You know you don’t have to stay up all night, right?”

Jinx’s eyes flicked toward him—sharp and alert. Not startled. She’d known he was awake, of course she did.

Sokka didn’t look away. “We’re not gonna rob you or anything.”

She didn’t answer, just stared back blankly without blinking. 

He nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the darkness beyond her. “Right . Guess that’s the kind of thing someone says right before they rob you.”

Still nothing.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face.

Sokka shifted his legs, sitting cross-legged now. “You always stay up like this?”

A beat, then two, and then—so soft he almost missed it:

“Sometimes.” She replied. 

Sokka leaned back on his palms, letting his head tilt up toward the high, dark ceiling. “I get it,” he said, not looking at her now. “Hard to sleep when everything’s quiet. Makes your brain go loud.”

Another pause.

Longer this time.

“…Yeah.”

The word hit his chest in a weird way. Not because of what she said, but how she said it, like it hurt to admit it—almost as if sleep was just another thing she couldn't trust.

“I used to stay up to guard back home,” Sokka offered. “But eventually I realized the only thing lurking in the dark half the time was my own paranoia.”

Jinx didn’t answer, but she hadn’t looked away either as the fire popped softly, a faint ember floating upward before vanishing.

Sokka glanced over again. Jinx had pulled the blanket tighter, her shoulders hunched like she was bracing for something that never came.

“I saw you scratch your foot earlier,” He said, voice even. “I wasn’t gonna bring it up again, but…” 

He shrugged, casual. “Just—don’t let it get infected, okay? Katara’s already worried enough.”

Jinx looked down briefly, then away, fingers flexed over the hem of the blanket but didn’t respond.

Sokka waited.

Didn’t push.

Let the quiet return.

Eventually, Jinx shifted. Not much, but her posture relaxed just a touch with her head tilted against the wall, eyes still wide open, but a little less sharp. 

A little less ready to bolt.

Sokka didn’t move, but he didn’t go to sleep right away for a long while before it slowly drifted over him, causing his eyelids to grow heavy until they've finally shut close—finally falling asleep.

And Jinx? Well, she stayed awake no matter how much her eyes stung. 

The soft golden light of dawn filtered through the temple windows, casting long shadows across the room. Jinx sat on the edge of the group, cradling her Monkey Bomb while the rest of Team Avatar prepared breakfast. The smell of roasted nuts and dried fruits wafted through the air as Sokka tore into his share with his usual gusto.

“Seriously, Sokka, chew your food,” Katara scolded, rolling her eyes as she stirred the remains of their cooking pot, “You’re going to choke one day.”

“Not if I eat fast enough,” Sokka replied through a mouthful of food, earning an exasperated sigh from his sister.

Aang chuckled as he tossed a small piece of fruit to Momo, who caught it midair and chittered happily, “Don’t worry, Katara. I’ll save him with Airbending if he does.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Sokka said, grinning, “See? Someone’s got my back.”

Jinx watched them, her expression unreadable but her glowing pink eyes tracking their interactions. 

Their lighthearted bickering felt foreign, yet oddly comforting. Their laughter felt warm, almost tangible, like sunlight through a window she couldn’t quite reach. The ease with which they teased and cared for each other reminded her of something she couldn’t quite place—a time long past.

Mylo. 

Claggor. 

Ekko.

Vander.

Vi . 

Isha .

Katara glanced over at her. “You okay, Jinx? You haven’t touched your food.”

Jinx shrugged, poking at her portion, “I’m fine,” she muttered. After a pause, she added, “Do you guys have anything sharp? Or, like…a tool? I need to cut my hair.”

Sokka slowed mid-chew, glancing up from his breakfast at the sudden shift in her voice as Katara exchanged a look with Aang. 

Aang blinked, tilting his head like a confused lemur. “Cut your hair? Why?”

“I just do,” Jinx said, sharper now. Clipped. Final. Like she’d slam a door if her words had hinges.

Sokka’s chewing stopped. His blue eyes drifted to her—really drifted this time. 

Jinx was sitting with her knees pulled up again, the Monkey Bomb cradled like a sleeping animal in her lap. Her fingers were curled tightly around it, white-knuckled, and her blue hair spilled wildly down her back, catching the early morning light like strands of woven ocean.

It looked softer. Looser. Messier. Like she didn’t care, or perhaps she couldn’t and now she wanted to cut it.

Not trim.

Not tidy.

Cut.

Sokka set his food down quietly, brushing crumbs from his hands. He didn’t say anything for a moment, but his eyes hadn’t left her.

Katara hesitated, glancing between them. “Jinx…are you sure? I could help you trim it, or I can—”

“No.” Jinx’s voice cracked on the word, blinked hard and swallowed whatever came next as her hand twitched.

Sokka stood, brushing off his pants again, and walked over to his pack. He rummaged through it for a moment, pulling out his knife—nothing fancy, just his well-used hunting blade, sharpened and clean. 

He glanced at Katara, then back at Jinx.

“You sure ?” Sokka asked, voice low.

Jinx didn’t answer right away, her gaze dropped to the Monkey Bomb, then slowly lifted to meet his eyes—Pink shimmered against the dawn, tired and distant.

She nodded once. 

Just once.

Sokka walked over—not too fast, not too close—and knelt beside her, flipped the knife in his hand, offering it hilt-first.

Jinx hesitated, staring at the blade. Her hands hovered over it, her fingers brushing his for a heartbeat—they were freezing,

Sokka didn’t pull away, just met her eyes and quietly added. “You don’t have to do the whole thing now. You could let Katara cut it for you. But…if it helps—then okay.”

Her gaze focused on the blade, before she finally took it, gripping it tightly with her fingers wrapped around the hilt like it was something familiar — something safe.

Then, without a word, she turned her back to them. Sat near the window where the golden light filtered across the floor like some kind of slow-moving spotlight as she set the Monkey Bomb beside her, hair spilling across her shoulders like waves before a storm.

Jinx sat alone in the morning light, blade in hand.

And behind her, none of them moved.

Jinx stared at the knife in her hand, her other hand running through her wild, loose hair. She paused, her glowing pink eyes narrowing as she stared at the blade. 

Cutting it felt like something she should do, a way to shed the past, but as her fingers tangled in the strands, she hesitated.

The knife felt heavy in her hands.

Too heavy for something so simple. 

So stupid.

Jinx sat near the edge of the stone window, the golden light casting long shadows across the floor, her Monkey Bomb resting at her side like a silent witness—she didn’t look at the others. Didn’t care if they stared. 

Her knees were pulled close, the blanket draped forgotten around her shoulders as her hair pooled like liquid around her legs. 

And now? Jinx yanked a handful forward— too hard—the roots tugged at her scalp.

‘Good.’ She felt deserved that, fingers trembled as they gripped the thick, silky blue locks and yet, even then she hesitates.

Her hands shook slightly, battling with her own self, before finally coming to a decision as she slowly set the knife down beside her letting out a heavy exhausted exhale. 

Reaching into her pack, she pulled out a piece of string. With slow, deliberate movements, she began to twist her hair back into her signature twin braids as her fingers, raw and trembling, worked methodically. 

The act wasn’t about vanity—it was about finding something familiar, something that felt like her. Her fingers fumbled with the strands, but the familiar motions steadied her. Even if she hated herself right now, the braids were still hers . 

The only thing that she had that felt familiar, even if Jinx hated what the braids represented—a past she couldn’t erase—but they also reminded her of a time when she wasn’t completely lost. 

When Jinx finished, she sat still for a long moment, staring at the worn metal and thread binding the braids together, they swayed gently as she shifted, and in what felt like forever Jinx stood up walking over and returned the knife to Sokka without meeting his gaze.

She walked toward him with slow, measured steps, not like she was afraid, nor was she hiding, but like every movement cost her something.

Sokka looked up as her shadow fell over him, she held the knife out—not loose, not trembling, just…steady. Controlled.

“I…don’t need it,” Jinx said softly, eyes downcast, her voice wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. Just quiet. Like a wind that blew through ruins and didn’t bother to stir the dust.

He glanced at the blade—not a mark on it.

No hair.

No blood.

No decision made in haste.

Sokka reached up and took the knife back, his fingers brushed hers, just slightly for a second and accepted it with a small nod, taking his blade back. 

“Alright,” He said simply, he sheathed his knife, tucking it back into his pack.

Jinx nodded once—barely a motion at all—and turned away. Her twin braids now hung, loose in some places, too tight in others, bound with mismatched threads and shaking slightly when she moved. They weren’t neat.

Aang and Katara watched as Jinx walked to the edge of the room, her twin braids bouncing faintly with each step. She didn’t say anything more, sitting down beside her Monkey Bomb, her glowing eyes staring into the firelight. Without taking her pink eyes off the fire, her hand brushed over the Monkey Bomb, fingers tightening around the cool metal. 

It was her lifeline, her reminder, her escape—when the time came.

The morning light had crept higher through the tall windows, warming the stone floors where old memories lingered and fresh ones had just begun to take root.

Outside, the wind stirred—cool and quiet, brushing against the temple walls like breath exhaled from the mountain itself. It whispered through the ruins, stirring loose dust and forgotten corners, dancing around the empty statues of Airbenders long gone.

Team Avatar moved in quiet rhythm.

Katara packed away the last of the cooking supplies with efficient hands, folding the small cooking pot into its canvas wrap. 

Aang rolled up the sleeping mats, pausing occasionally to glance back at the murals on the walls, his fingers lingering a second too long on one in particular—a faded depiction of a sky bison in flight.

Sokka hauled their gear over his shoulder with a grunt, Boomerang already strapped to his hip, his attention flickering toward Jinx every few moments like a compass that refused to point north.

No one rushed, but no one lingered, either.

Jinx remained seated for a while longer by the low window, braids now tightened into place, her face unreadable. She hadn’t said much since returning Sokka’s knife. She didn’t offer to help pack, but she didn’t withdraw either as her Monkey Bomb rested quietly at her side.

Eventually, Jinx stood up, her movements were slow—out of reluctance, and caution—like she wasn’t sure what version of herself was waking up on this new day.

Jinx strapped her satchel to her hip. No sleeping roll. No pack. Just her Monkey Bomb, her tools, a broken device and whatever else she’d kept hidden inside her pink bag—her green cloak resting on her arm. 

Just what she came in with.

Jinx slung her green and pink bags over her shoulder, keeping to herself. 

Aang slung his staff across his back and turned to face the others. “We should get moving. There’s a village a few hours from here—we might be able to restock supplies there.”

Katara nodded, tucking the last bundle into her bag. “And maybe trade for warmer clothes. If the weather dips again, Jinx is going to freeze.”

At that, Jinx looked up—not surprised. 

Just quietly skeptical.

“I’ll be fine,” She muttered, adjusting the strap of her bag over one shoulder. “I’ve been through worse.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Katara replied gently, “But being cold isn’t a contest.”

Sokka stretched his arms above his head. “Well, at least we won’t have to hike all the way to the next town. Appa’s gonna get us there in no time.”

Jinx frowned, eyeing him suspiciously. “Appa? ”

“You’ll see,” Aang said with a knowing grin.

Sokka cracked a grin. “He’s…big.”

Jinx narrowed her eyes, not biting—but not snapping either. She glanced toward the doors leading outside, where the light had grown stronger and the shadows behind her stretched longer on the floor.

One step, then another—she followed. Not beside them, nor behind them—just nearby at a distance, and none of them asked her to walk closer as they ventured down the stairs.

As they passed the final threshold of the temple, Aang paused—just for a breath—his gray eyes sweeping one last time over the weathered courtyard. He whispered something none of them quite heard, his fingers brushing the wind.

Jinx stood at the edge of the steps, looking back. She didn’t say goodbye, but she didn’t look back in anger either.

Just silence.
Just breath.

Then she turned forward, her twin braids catching the breeze behind her like fading ribbons. The last of the smoke from their morning fire curled skyward, and with it, whatever version of herself she’d left behind.

As they walked out of the temple, the sunlight hit Jinx’s face, making her glowing pink eyes stand out even more. She shielded them with her hand, still adjusting to the brightness. 

The stone steps, worn smooth by time and the passing of feet long vanished. Mist clung to the edges of the cliff, swirling like breath from something ancient and half-asleep. The sun risen, casting gold over gray like paint strokes across clouds.

Jinx moved slowly, her boots were light on the steps, each footfall deliberate. She didn’t say a word as the others moved ahead—Katara leading, Sokka trailing with their bags slung over his shoulder. 

Aang paused just behind her, noting that she hadn’t noticed he’d stopped, then he stood a step higher, his staff in hand, watching her.

“Hey,” Aang said softly.

Jinx turned her head just slightly, one glowing eye catching the light. “…What?”

Aang hesitated, then stepped down beside her so they stood shoulder to shoulder, both facing out over the vast drop below— layers of clouds curling beneath the mountain, hiding the world beyond in a blanket of soft gold and white.

“You ever seen anything like this before?” He asked.

Jinx didn’t answer immediately. Her arms folded over her chest, fingers gripping her sleeves, knuckles pale.

“No,” She said at last. “Not like this .” She tilted her head, pink eyes tracing the endless distance. “Where I’m from…it’s smoke. Smog. We didn’t have this kind of…open.”

Aang nodded quietly, his gaze following hers. “The Air Temples were built at the highest points in the world—because the wind was clearest there. Our people believed it brought us closer to the spirits.”

Jinx didn’t reply. Her blue bangs moved slightly in the breeze, her braids swaying with the rise and fall of the wind.

After a while, she asked, “Did it help?”

Aang blinked. “What?”

“Being closer,” Jinx said, her voice low. “To the spirits. To…all that .”

He looked at her—not with confusion but understanding.

“Sometimes,” Aang admitted. “Sometimes it made things feel lighter. Like you could let go. Like the wind would carry it for you.”

Jinx’s eyes dropped to the stone underfoot. “Sounds fake.”

Aang gave a soft smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Sometimes it does…but it’s true.”

A beat of silence passed between them, filled only by the distant whistle of wind and the soft crunch of gravel where the others walked ahead.

Then Aang turned to her again. “I meant what I said yesterday,” He murmured. 

Jinx didn’t look at him, but she didn’t walk away either. “I’m not your responsibility, kid.” She muttered.

“I know,” Aang said quietly. “But you’re still my people.”

That made her flinch—not visibly, not in a way anyone else would’ve seen. But Aang caught it. The way her jaw shifted, the way her hands folded tighter around her elbows.

Jinx looked at him then, really looked—eyes narrowed, not in anger, but in disbelief. 

Aang smiled. “You’re one of us now.”

Hopeful. 

Jinx scoffed under her breath, turning her face back toward the open sky.

She didn’t believe him.

Not yet.

But she didn’t tell him to stop, either.

A gust of wind picked up, brushing past them, lifting the ends of Aang’s robes and the long blue ribbons of her twin braids.

For a moment, they both stood there in silence, side by side.

Just two survivors of an Airbending legacy that neither of them fully understood just yet. 

Then—Sokka’s voice echoed up from below. “Hey! Are you two coming or what? There’s a giant flying bison down here who’s getting real impatient!”

Aang chuckled. “You ready to meet Appa?”

Jinx arched a brow. "..."

Aang grinned, already walking ahead. “Oh! You’ll see, you’ll love him!”

Jinx lingered just a moment longer. Eyes on the horizon as the wind brushed her face again before she turned and followed.

The stone path curved down the last ridge of the mountain, ending in a grassy clearing nestled between sharp cliffs and a steep drop of cloud and sky.

Her question lingered on her lips, but before she could ask how exactly they were going to leave, a low rumble and a massive shadow drew her attention. 

That’s where she saw it.

Jinx stopped dead in her tracks.

A creature the size of a house, probably bigger.

Furry. 

Giant. 

Six legs.

A flat face with giant brown eyes and a mouth currently chewing on something that looked vaguely like moss. Its massive tail flicked behind it like a lazy feather-duster and on its forehead—

An arrow.

Like Aang’s.

Her eyes widened as she saw—a six-legged, sky bison towering over her. “What the hell is that…” Jinx muttered, stepping back instinctively.

“That,” Sokka said, coming up beside her with a smug grin, “is Appa. Sky bison. Airbender ride of choice. Also snorer of legend.”

Jinx blinked.

Appa let out a low rumble, half-grunt, half-yawn and turned his head in their direction, chewing slowly.

“…You guys ride that? ” she asked, incredulous.

“Appa!” Aang said brightly, already jogging toward the bison. 

“That thing is huge,” Jinx muttered, instinctively shifting behind Sokka just slightly. Her hand brushed the edge of her belt, grazing the spot where her gun usually was. 

Only to find nothing. 

“Relax,” Sokka said, throwing her a sidelong glance. “He’s just a big fuzzy baby.”

Appa gave a loud “Mrrrmph! ” —then suddenly launched into a slow and steady trot toward them, ears flopping.

Jinx stiffened, her hand flying to the Monkey Bomb on instinct.

“Don’t worry, he’s friendly!” Aang said, patting Appa’s side affectionately, “He’s a big softie! Jinx, this is Appa. Appa, meet Jinx.” 

Appa let out a deep, resonant groan, his tail swishing behind him—he stopped a few feet away, yawning, tongue lolling slightly, tail swishing lazily.

Aang beamed and scratched behind Appa’s ear. “See? Big softy.”

Jinx narrowed her eyes, before something small, white, and blindingly fast darted past her face—a chirping screech followed. She recoiled instinctively, looking up, the creature in question was now perched on Appa’s head, chewing a dried fruit piece with alarming innocence.

Jinx stared.

Momo blinked back.

They stared at each other for a full three seconds.

“Is it…rabid?” Jinx asked flatly.

“Nope. Just annoying,” Sokka replied, ready to hoist his pack onto Appa’s saddle. “He was supposed to be my dinner.”

“Everybody, this is Momo–he’s now officially a part of our family!” Aang cheerfully announced Momo darted onto Appa’s head, chirping excitedly as he observed Jinx until leaping over Aang’s shoulder as he curled his tail around the boy’s neck.

Jinx blinked, her gaze darting between the bison and the lemur. 

She didn’t respond, just stood there, expression unreadable, pink eyes flicking between the massive bison and the bat-eared lemur now clambering onto Aang’s shoulder like this was all perfectly normal.

Sokka smirked, “Welcome to Team Avatar, where flying bison and crazy adventures ahead are just part of the deal.”

“Yeah,” Jinx said, still staring at Appa, “This…this is going to take some getting used to.”

The group stood near Appa, the giant sky bison crouched low to allow them to climb aboard. Jinx hung back, staring at the creature with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

“Come on, Jinx!” Aang called cheerfully as he hopped up onto Appa’s saddle, “He’s super gentle, I promise.”

Jinx’s glowing pink eyes darted between the bison and the group. “You’re telling me this…thing actually flies?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sokka said, hauling himself onto the saddle with a grunt, “And ‘thing’? That’s Appa you’re talking about. Show some respect.”

Appa let out a low rumble, as if in agreement, and Jinx instinctively took a step back.

Katara climbed up next. “You’ll get used to it. Appa’s amazing. There’s no safer way to travel.”

Jinx hesitated, her fingers brushing over the strap of her bags. She felt the weight of the Monkey Bomb inside and clenched her jaw.

“I don’t like heights,” She muttered, though it sounded more like an excuse than a genuine fear.

“Don’t worry,” Aang said with a grin, “I’ve never let anyone fall. Well…not on purpose, anyway.”

“That’s so reassuring,” Jinx deadpanned, crossing her arms.

“Look,” Sokka said, leaning over the edge of the saddle, “if I can handle flying, so can you. And trust me, I’m way less graceful than you.”

Momo chittered, scampering off of Aang to perch on Appa’s head, as if urging her on. 

Jinx glanced at the little lemur and sighed heavily. “Fine . But if this thing drops me, I’m haunting all of you.”

“That’s the spirit!” Sokka said, earning a groan from Katara.

Jinx approached Appa cautiously, her hands brushing against his soft fur. The bison huffed, his warm breath ruffling her hair. 

Despite herself, Jinx felt a small pang of comfort at the creature’s gentleness. She climbed onto the saddle, her movements awkward and unsure. 

Settling in, she gripped the edge of the saddle tightly, her knuckles turning white. “This had better be worth it,” She muttered, feeling unsure about this whole thing seeing how this creature lacked wings to supposedly fly. 

Aang grabbed the reins with a gleeful grin, “Yip yip!”

With a powerful lurch, Appa rose into the air, his massive non-existent wings creating gusts of wind that whipped through the temple courtyard. Jinx gasped, her glowing eyes wide as the ground fell away beneath them.

“Okay, this is officially insane!” she shouted, clutching the saddle even tighter.

Sokka laughed, “Welcome to the club!”

As Appa leveled out, soaring above the trees and cliffs, Jinx couldn’t help but glance down. The view was breathtaking—the rolling landscape bathed in morning light, rivers glinting like silver ribbons, and distant mountains rising majestically against the horizon.

She swallowed hard, her grip loosening just slightly. “I’ll admit…it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

Aang turned to her, his expression warm, “See? Told you it wasn’t so bad.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, but there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips, “Don’t get used to it, kid.”

As the wind tousled her twin braids, she sat a little straighter, the tension in her shoulders easing. For the first time in a long while, she felt the smallest spark of something she thought she’d lost— wonder. 

Jinx blinked, a confused little huff left her nose. “You’re all crazy.”

“Probably,” Sokka replied, “But at least you’d fit in.”

She didn’t smile—but something in her shoulders loosened, just a little, didn’t lash out, only just sat there, gripping the edge of the saddle like it was the last thing in the world keeping her from falling apart.

The four of them sat in silence as Appa soared through the skies, the wind rushing around them in a soothing, rhythmic breeze. Aang sat cross-legged near the front of the saddle, staring out at the horizon—but his gaze kept drifting back to Jinx. 

She was leaning back against the saddle’s edge, her body angled lazily as if she barely cared whether they were flying or falling. Her blue hair, tied in those peculiar twin braids, swayed gently with the breeze. A few loose bangs framed her face, shifting with every gust of wind.

Aang’s eyes trailed over the strange tattoos on her arms—an intricate flow of blue smoke or clouds that seemed to ripple along her pale skin like they were alive. 

They reached up her arms, disappearing under her leather top, which barely covered her whole chest. Her torn, purple-striped pants clung loosely to her legs, and her worn boots, scuffed and battered, told stories of endless wandering. 

And then there were her hands. Her painted nails—pink and blue—might have seemed playful, even whimsical, if not for the raw, bloody skin around her fingertips. 

The wounds were hard to look at, but Aang found himself drawn to them, wondering what had caused such pain and why she kept inflicting it upon herself.

He hadn’t seen anyone like her before. Blue hair. Pink eyes that glowed faintly in the fading sunlight. Everything about Jinx was otherworldly. And yet, despite her rough edges and defiant slouch, there was something undeniably fragile about her.

His stare lingered too long.

“Got a problem, Baldy?” Jinx’s voice cut through the wind like a sharp blade. She turned her head slightly, catching him in her unsettling pink gaze. Her eyes narrowed, one eyebrow lifting as if daring him to say something stupid.

Aang flinched, his face flushing, “Uh, no! I mean…sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

Jinx scoffed, leaning her head back again, her braids shifting with the motion, “Well, you were. Try not to burn a hole in me next time, huh?”

Sokka snorted from the back of the saddle, where he had been fiddling with his boomerang, “Careful, Aang. She bites.”

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” Jinx snapped, turning her glare on Sokka, who immediately threw up his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, okay! I’ll shut up,” Sokka said, though the amused smirk on his face didn’t disappear.

Katara sighed, shaking her head as she adjusted her spot on the saddle, “Can we please have a peaceful moment?”

Jinx shrugged, her gaze shifting back to the horizon, “Not my fault the kid can’t keep his eyes to himself.”

Aang ducked his head, embarrassed, but he couldn’t help himself. She was the only other Airbender he’d ever seen—if he could even call her that. She didn’t have the traditional tattoos of his people, nor did she move like an Airbender. And yet, the way she had used the air at the temple… with so much emptiness in her eyes.

Appa continued to glide through the sky, the silence returning—except for the steady hum of the wind and the occasional snort from Appa. Aang tried to focus on the view ahead, but he couldn’t help but steal another glance at Jinx.

If she noticed this time, she didn’t say anything.

The wind picked up, tugging at their clothes and sweeping through the saddle. Jinx closed her eyes and leaned into it, letting the breeze play with her hair. She hummed softly, almost too low to hear, her fingers idly twisting the end of one of her braids.

The sound of her humming, faintly, that same melody caught Katara’s attention as she watched Jinx carefully, her brow furrowing. 

The girl was unlike anyone they’d ever met—volatile, secretive, and clearly carrying the weight of something heavy. But there was also something vulnerable to see her like this, when she let her guard down, even just a little.

“Do you…miss your home?” Katara asked gently, breaking the silence.

Jinx’s eyes opened, her pink gaze flicking to Katara. For a moment, she didn’t respond, her expression unreadable. 

Then she shrugged, “What’s the point of missing something that’s gone?”

Katara frowned, her heart aching at the bitterness in Jinx’s voice, “Still…it’s okay to miss it. It’s okay to hold onto the good memories.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have those,” Jinx said flatly, turning her head away. Her fingers tightened around her braid, “Memories are just ghosts. They don’t help.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, silencing any response Katara might have had.

Sokka, ever uncomfortable with heavy emotions, cleared his throat. “So…uh, Jinx. You’re an Airbender, huh? Do you, like, ever fly around and stuff? Or are you still figuring that out?”

Jinx snorted, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “You think it works like that? Like I just flap my arms and take off?”

Sokka shrugged, “Hey, I don’t know how bending works! I just throw things.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in them. “You’re dumber than you look, Boomerang Boy.”

“Hey! My name is Sokka!” Sokka protested, though his tone was more playful than offended.

Aang smiled faintly, grateful for the levity. Even if Jinx was hard to understand, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she belonged with them—an Airbender, like him, yet so different.

Katara couldn’t stop watching Jinx. She studied the girl’s posture—the way her shoulders hunched slightly, like she was bracing for some unseen blow. The twin braids, her bangs that framed her face, unkempt and loose at the ends, seemed to mirror the rest of her: disordered, like she had no energy to fix them.

Then there were her hands, wrapped loosely around one knee as she leaned back against the saddle. Katara’s heart sank every time her eyes caught the dried blood around Jinx’s fingertips. She had noticed it back at the temple but hadn’t said anything, unsure of how to approach it.

Now, with the open sky around them, the sight seemed even more raw and jarring that Katara couldn’t help but wonder what kind of pain Jinx carried. It was there, written all over her—the way she snapped at people, the way she avoided eye contact, and especially in the haunted tone she used when she spoke about herself.

Jinx had said memories were ghosts, but Katara suspected they weren’t just ghosts—they were chains. Chains that kept her locked in a cycle of anger and despair.

Katara wanted to help, but how could she? Jinx had built walls so thick it seemed impossible to break through. Even her humming earlier, soft and wistful, felt like a fleeting glimpse of someone buried deep beneath the armor.

She remembered what Jinx had said when she asked about her home: 

“What’s the point of missing something that’s gone?” 

The bitterness in her voice had lingered in Katara’s mind.

For Katara, memories of her mother—though painful—were something to hold onto, a source of strength. But for Jinx, it seemed like they were nothing but weight dragging her down. 

Katara bit her lip, glancing at Aang. He was staring at Jinx again, his expression filled with quiet curiosity and something else. 

Hope. 

And Katara hoped Aang’s optimism wasn’t misplaced. She wanted to believe Jinx could find some peace with them, but it was clear she wasn’t ready to open up. Not yet.

Sokka, on the other hand, was doing his best to make sense of the new addition to their group. He leaned back against the saddle, arms crossed, watching Jinx from the corner of his eye. 

She was…intense, to say the least. 

Sharp-tongued, unpredictable, and clearly carrying more baggage than Appa could probably handle. But she was also fascinating in a way that Sokka couldn’t quite explain. She looked like no one he’d ever seen before—blue hair, pink eyes, strange tattoos that didn’t look like the ones Aang had, and clothes that didn’t fit any culture he knew.

And then there was the Airbending, out of control the moment of anger—that part still freaked him out a little. For all his skepticism, he trusted Aang’s judgment. Though, he couldn’t help but wonder. Where had she come from? And why did she look so…different? 

Sokka didn’t trust her. Not yet, anyway. She was too closed-off, too guarded. And the way she kept snapping at everyone didn’t exactly make her easy to warm up to. But there was something else— something that made him pause before writing her off completely.

He had seen it in the way she held herself back at the temple, clutching that strange device she carried along with her other possessions. Her thumb was hovering over the pin. The look in her eyes had stayed with him—like she was barely holding herself together, like she was ready to fall apart at any moment.

Sokka might not have been the most sensitive guy, but even he could see it: Jinx was hurting. And he hated that it made him feel sorry for her.

“Don’t get soft, Sokka,” he muttered to himself under his breath. The last thing he needed was to start getting attached to someone who clearly didn’t want to be here. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder about her story. Where she came from. What had happened to her. Why does she seem so ready to push everyone away? 

Sokka glanced over at Katara, who was watching Jinx with that same concerned look she always got when she wanted to help someone.

He sighed, already guessing what was going through her head. “She’s not some wounded otter-penguin you can just patch up, Katara,” He said quietly, his voice low enough that Jinx couldn’t hear.

Katara shot him a look. “I know that, Sokka. But we can’t just ignore her.”

“I’m not saying we should,” Sokka said, his tone defensive. “I’m just saying…don’t expect her to be all warm and fuzzy anytime soon.”

Katara frowned, crossing her arms, “Maybe if you didn’t keep antagonizing her with your questions then she wouldn’t snap at you so much.”

“Hey, she started it!” Sokka said, though he knew it wasn’t entirely true. Still, he wasn’t about to admit that.

Katara rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Jinx, “I think she needs us, Sokka. Even if she won’t admit it.”

Sokka didn’t respond right away. He wasn’t sure if he agreed or not, but he knew one thing for sure: Jinx wasn’t going to make this easy for any of them.

As Jinx leaned back against the saddle, her arms crossed over her chest and her legs stretched out in front of her, she stared up at the endless sky. The clouds drifted lazily, so soft and light, unlike the smog-choked skies she had grown up under.

Jinx’s mood dips.

It wasn’t peaceful. Not to her. The silence on Appa’s back wasn’t comforting; it was suffocating.

Her gaze flickered over to the others, watching them when they weren’t paying attention.

The bald kid—Aang. 

He was the easiest to read, and that made her uneasy. The way he kept looking at her, all wide-eyed and curious, like she was some kind of long-lost treasure. It wasn’t just that he was staring—it was what was behind the stare. 

Hope.

She hated it.

She hated the way it made her chest tighten, like he expected something from her that she couldn’t give. He didn’t know her. Didn’t know what she’d done. If he did, there was no way he’d keep looking at her like that.

Then there was Katara, sitting prim and proper like she had all the answers to the universe. Jinx wasn’t sure what to make of her yet. She could tell Katara wanted to talk, wanted to ask questions, probably wanted to ‘help’ or whatever.

‘Do-gooders,’ Jinx thought bitterly. ‘They were always the same— always sticking their noses where they didn’t belong, always trying to ‘fix’ people. Katara didn’t know what she was dealing with.’ 

But part of Jinx envied her. 

The way she carried herself, the way she spoke, the way she looked at her brother and Aang—it was clear she cared about them. And it was just as clear that they cared about her.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing of this was fair. Katara had everything Jinx had lost a long time ago.

Jinx glanced at Sokka next, leaning back with his arms crossed, his sharp blue eyes flicking toward her every now and then like he thought she’d suddenly pull out a bomb and blow them all to pieces.

Honestly, she didn’t blame him.

She smirked faintly to herself, at least he wasn’t pretending to trust her like the others. She could respect that. He was suspicious, cautious—smart—that kind of attitude kept you alive.

Still, it annoyed her. Jinx didn’t like the way he kept looking at her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t figure out.

‘What’s your angle, huh?’ she thought, narrowing her eyes at him for a moment before looking away.

And then there was the giant flying bison. Appa, they called him. Jinx hadn’t seen anything like him before, and she wasn’t sure what to make of him. He seemed…gentle, almost. Too gentle for a world like this. She couldn’t understand how he hadn’t been taken down by now.

Maybe that was the thing about these people. They were soft. They hadn’t grown up in the gutter like she had. They didn’t know what it meant to fight tooth and nail for everything, to be surrounded by people who’d betray you the moment it suited them.

They didn’t know what it felt like to have blood on their hands.

Jinx’s gaze returned to the sky. She could feel the weight of the Monkey Bomb in her bag, pressing against her back like a constant reminder.

These people weren’t her friends. 

They weren’t her allies.

She didn’t belong here.

She didn’t belong anywhere.

Her eyes flicked to Aang again, who was still glancing at her every now and then with that stupid hopeful look on his face.

“Keep dreaming, kid,” she muttered under her breath, so quiet no one could hear.

Tomorrow, she’d figure out a way to slip away. To be alone again. That was safer. That was better.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

Jinx’s gaze finally landed on the little creature perched nearby, nibbling on something it had scavenged. Momo, the kid called him. 

She didn’t know what he was—a bat? A lemur? Some weird mix of both? Whatever he was, he was small, harmless, and annoyingly curious. She’d caught him sneaking closer to her a few times, his big ears twitching and his wide eyes blinking up at her like he was trying to figure her out. Every time, she’d glare at him, and he’d scamper away, only to come back again later.

“Persistent little bugger,” she muttered under her breath as Momo tilted his head at her.

There was something about him, though. Something that tugged at her in a way she didn’t like. He was too innocent, too carefree. The way he flitted around Aang and the others, chittering happily, its long ears, it reminded her of her purple stuffed bunny.

Jinx shook her head and looked away. No. She wasn’t going there.

When Momo darted closer, a piece of fruit clutched in his tiny hands, she glared at him, “Don’t even think about it,” she warned, her voice low.

Momo paused, tilting his head again as if weighing his chances, before deciding against it and retreating back to Aang’s side.

 ‘Smart move.’ Jinx scoffed and leaned back against the saddle.

Though a tiny part of her—a part she’d buried deep—kind of liked the little pest’s determination. She wouldn’t admit that, though. Not even to herself.

She sighed and closed her eyes, the hum of the wind filling her ears. Momo’s faint chittering blended with the sound of Appa’s wings of air and winds beating against the air. For a brief moment, the noise almost felt…comforting. But Jinx pushed the thought away. 

Comfort wasn’t something she could afford. Not anymore.

The world was so small from up here. Mountains blurred into valleys, rivers became veins across green and gray, and villages were nothing more than scattered freckles on the skin of the earth. 

The wind roared around them as Appa soared higher, his great wings— legs? —his whatever slicing through clouds like they were nothing at all as Jinx sat near the back of the saddle, knees hugged close, her fingers loosely gripping the edge. 

The others were chattering somewhere in front of her—Aang pointing out landmarks, Katara smiling as Momo clambered over her shoulders, Sokka loudly misidentifying every bird they passed.

It was warm.

It was loud.

It was alive.

Jinx didn’t speak.

Her braids fluttered behind her like broken streamers, and her pink dim eyes stayed fixed on the horizon. Not watching. Just staring—as if maybe if she looked long enough, she could find something she’d lost. 

A shape in the clouds.

A street that used to exist. 

A shimmer of neon behind the smog.

There was nothing .

Nothing but endless blue. Clouds. And wind.

Her hand slipped over to the Monkey Bomb resting at her side, fingers curling around its cool, familiar shape.

‘How did I end up here? ’ The question scratched like a whisper behind her teeth.

Not the physical here. Not the flying bison. Not the strange kids or the soup or the knife she didn’t use, but here—this.

A place where the sky was endless, where she was weightless.

And so unbearably far from home.

‘Home.’ Her throat tightened.

Vi…

Strong arms calloused bloody bandaged hands. Angry eyes that still softened sometimes when she looked at her.

Gone. 

Vander…

Big. Tired. Warm voice. Smelled like steel and fire and something safe. Twisted into something unrecognizable— changed and now gone.

Again. 

Isha…

The last memory of the last time she saw her echoing in dark corners Jinx couldn’t scrub clean.

They were all ghosts now. 

And Jinx—she was still here. Still alive. Still breathing somehow, but it didn’t feel like a blessing. 

The wind whipped past her face, stinging her eyes. Jinx closed them, letting the cold pull at her skin, unable to stop the ache rising in her throat. 

She didn’t cry. 

She couldn’t . 

There was nothing left to give to tears, just the burn. Just the pressure behind her eyes like a dam that had long since cracked.

The others were still smiling. laughing. Talking. Living .

Jinx stayed still, arms around her knees, eyes shut as she tried to remember what happened before everything exploded—how she even got here, but nothing resurfaced.  

And she didn’t know how long they flew like that, but she didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t bother to ask where they were going because she wasn’t sure it mattered anymore. 

Not really.

The wind didn’t let up as it pressed against her face, threading through the loose strands of her blue hair, cold and endless. Her hands stayed wrapped around her knees. Her grip on the Monkey Bomb slackened, but it never left her side.

The sound of chattering and chuckles had faded—she wasn’t sure if it was because the others had quieted down or if her brain had finally gone numb to it. 

The sky was too big.

The saddle too open. 

The height too high.

Jinx felt like a single speck about to fall off the edge of the world.

Then—a small shadow passed near her peripheral vision.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t open her eyes.

Not yet.

“You okay?” came the voice.

Not Katara.
Not Sokka.

It was Aang.

He was closer than she expected— just a few feet away, crouched beside her now, not facing her directly but instead sitting cross-legged, letting the wind pull at his robes.

She didn’t answer.

He didn’t push.

“She’s been quiet for a while…” Sokka’s voice drifted from somewhere ahead—lower this time, not loud or teasing.

Jinx opened her eyes just slightly, just enough to glance sideways.

Aang wasn’t watching her. He was staring out at the sky—same as her. His expression unreadable, his eyes narrowed just a little. Not in frustration. Not in curiosity.

In understanding.

“The sky’s different up here,” he murmured. “It’s quiet…but it doesn’t always feel peaceful.”

Jinx said nothing.

Aang reached into his pocket and pulled out a large wooden pendant—a simple wooden carving, smooth around the edges. He rubbed his thumb over it absently.

“I used to feel so free up here,” he said. “Now? Sometimes it just reminds me how far everything is.”

Jinx’s throat tightened. She turned her head away again.

Aang continued anyway, his tone soft. Not preachy. Not comforting. Just there. “When I woke up…I kept thinking I’d go home and everything would be the same.

A beat.

“It wasn’t.”

Jinx’s jaw clenched.

“I know you miss something, or someone.” Aang said.

That made her flinch. Not visibly. Just a hitch in her breath. A twitch of her fingers, but it was enough.

Aang finally looked at her—not all the way, just enough to meet her eyes for a second. “I miss mine too.”

Jinx didn’t answer, but didn’t look away this time, not right away at least—eventually, her gaze dropped to her lap.

Aang nodded. “That’s okay.”

Silence fell again.

This time, it wasn’t heavy. 

Not cold.

Just shared.

A soft breeze stirred around them—not wild or sudden, just a current between two Airbenders who had both lost everything and were still trying to remember how to breathe.

After a while, Aang shifted. 

“If you ever want to talk,” He said, standing up again, “I’m here.” He walked back toward the front of the saddle, not waiting for a response. 

Didn’t need one.

Jinx sat there with head tilted back against the saddle’s edge, her pink dim eyes flickering toward the clouds, the wooden large round pendant Aang had held still lingering in her mind. 

She didn’t know how long she sat like that after Aang left—eyes open, but seeing nothing as the sky drifted on with wind pressed gently against her pale skin. 

Somewhere above, Momo squeaked and fluttered, probably chasing his own tail, and then—

Thump

Something landed beside her with a soft weight—Jinx blinked and looked down; A small pouch full of dried meat and a handful of nuts sat wrapped in a crumpled cloth, still warm. 

Nothing fancy. Just rations. The kind of thing you only shared if you thought someone else wasn’t eating enough.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” came a voice beside her.

She glanced up.

Sokka plopped down next to her with all the grace of a sack of potatoes, legs sprawled, arms behind his head like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he hadn’t just quietly gone out of his way to check on her.

“Technically,” He continued, “you didn’t eat much at breakfast. And as the official ‘Team Avatar Logistics Warrior,’ it is literally my sworn duty to prevent malnourishment on long flights.”

Jinx arched a brow at him. “Is that a real title or one you made up because you needed to feel important?”

Sokka grinned without missing a beat. “Both. Obviously.”

Jinx looked back down at the food.

She didn’t take it.

Not yet.

The cloth bundle sat next to her like a peace offering from someone who didn’t know how to say I’m worried about you without sounding like an idiot. She stared at it—brow furrowed, lips pressed tight—while the wind tugged softly at the ends of her hair.

Sokka didn’t press. He stretched his legs out farther, let out a dramatic sigh like he’d been carrying the emotional weight of the entire flight.

“Just…fair warning,” He muttered, eyes squinting up at the clouds, “if you do eat the seal jerky…keep it very well hidden.”

Jinx glanced sideways at him, one brow arched. “Why?”

Sokka leaned in slightly, lowering his voice with faux seriousness. “Because last time, someone—and I won’t name names, but it rhymes with ‘Bang’—decided to toss half our seal jerky into the campfire. Said he thought it was kindling.”

From the front of the saddle, Aang winced, twisting around, “It looked like dried bark! I didn’t know it was food!”

Sokka, sitting up dramatically, pointed his finger at Aang with great gravitas. “I set up camp. I’d packed a glorious large pouch of dried, smoky, lovingly seasoned seal jerky. Not just any jerky—real Southern Water Tribe style.”

“I didn’t know! Honest! I swear!” Aang pleaded. 

Sokka snapped. “I turned my back for one moment—and Aang threw it all into the fire.”

“It was an accident!” Aang cried. 

“You smelled it first!” Sokka shot back. “Who smells kindling?!”

“I was trying to help!” Aang exclaimed. 

“You were trying to destroy dinner!” Sokka retorted. 

“It was an accident! ” Aang tried.

“You’re a terrible liar!” Sokka barked back.

“I’m not lying!” Aang insisted.

“Then you’re just tragically mistaken!” Sokka shot back. 

Jinx blinked at the exchange, deadpan, listening to the two boys yell at each other over seal jerky.

Aang held up both hands like a hostage under negotiation. “I thought it was firewood!”

“Firewood?!” Sokka shrieked. “It smelled like meat!”

Aang shrieked back. “I grew up in a vegetarian diet! We didn’t keep bags of dead seal lying around, okay?! It looked like kindling!”

“It was in a food pouch!” 

“Wrapped in canvas!” 

“BECAUSE IT WAS FRESHLY SMOKED!” 

“It smelled like sandalwood!”

“It smelled like survival!”

Sokka turned back toward her with a mutter. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Sparkles. That’s the last of the jerky we’ve got. After this it’s nuts and berries.”

Jinx scoffed. “Tragic.”

“Tell me about it,” Sokka sighed. “I’ve been dreaming about smoked seal jerky.”

“You really dream about food that often?” She muttered. 

“I dream of nothing but food.” Sokka replied. 

“Sounds like a sickness.” Jinx mumbled. 

“It’s called survival ,” He said, deadpan.

Jinx blankly stared back before looking away, looking down at the small pouch beside her. 

Sokka didn’t look at her again, just leaned back, arms behind his head before he leaned toward Jinx and barely whispered like a conspirator. “Seriously though. Enjoy the last of the rations now. Because starting tomorrow—it’s all acorns and sadness.”

“And nuts,” Katara added helpfully.

“And emotional trauma,” Sokka added dramatically.

“And berries,” Aang said, sulking.

“Berries that you don’t get!” Sokka shot back.

Momo squeaked in protest as Aang huffed faintly up front but didn’t say anything more. Momo landed on his shoulder, munching on a berry—cherishing every bite he could possibly get. 

Sokka rocked his head against the saddle frame with a groan. “Man, this air up here is dry. I’m gonna look like a raisin by the time we land. Do you know what air this dry does to a guy with amazing skin like mine?”

Jinx gave him a sidelong look. 

“Hey,” Sokka said, mock-offended, pointing at himself. “Do you see any blemishes? That’s years of glacial spring water routine.”

Jinx rolled her eyes glancing away letting out just a soft puff through her nose.

Sokka caught it, and just kept talking like he hadn’t noticed. 

“Besides, if we do crash, you’ll be glad you sat next to me.” Sokka said, gesturing at himself proudly. “I’m a certified survival genius. I once made a tent out of nothing but fish guts, snow, and spite.”

Jinx raised a brow, dry. “I’d rather starve.”

“Ah, you say that now,” He said with a wink, “Just figured I’d offer you the best of my very last rations and my dazzling charm. It’s a limited-time combo.”

Jinx didn’t respond, but she didn’t throw the pouch at his face either, and that? That was a small win for Sokka. 

Jinx stared, not blinking before glancing away as she faintly shook her head before a ghost of someone making its appearance flickering behind her eyes causing her to tense for a second before it flickered away. 

Sokka glanced down at the food bundle again and nudged it slightly toward her with his knee, but he  didn’t say a word this time. 

Just nudged it.

Once.

Jinx stared down at it, silently contemplating, before slowly—very slowly—picking up the pouch and untying the cloth. She didn’t thank him, but she didn’t throw it away either 

Inside, the dried meat glistened faintly with salt and oil. The smell hit her almost instantly—faintly fishy, undeniably preserved, and so much better than the cold rock she’d been trying to call a stomach for the past grueling days since she was stranded in this place.

Jinx blankly, looking down at the seal jerky before she tore off a small piece of the jerky and popped it into her mouth—chewing slowly, eyes narrowed slightly as the salt hit her tongue.

The wind blew softer now as Jinx leaned her head back and chewed.

Sokka didn’t look at her after he saw her accepting the seal jerky, just leaned back again, arms behind his head, eyes on the clouds.

Like it was no big deal.

From Katara’s spot near the front of Appa’s saddle, Katara wrapped her blanket a little tighter against the wind and leaned into the curve of the saddle’s edge. 

The sky stretched on, clouds drifting in long, quiet trails, and the morning sun was starting to rise fully now—turning the tips of the mountains gold.

Aang sat in front of the saddle, humming softly as Momo napped in his lap. He hadn’t said much since checking on Jinx earlier.

But Katara’s eyes weren’t on Aang, she was watching the two figures near the back of the saddle.

Sokka and Jinx.

They weren’t talking anymore. Not really, but something about their silence made her pause.

Jinx sat hunched like always—still coiled inward, still holding her arms around her legs like she was bracing for impact—but Sokka sat close beside her. Not too close, just near enough to share space.

Katara saw the little bundle of food resting in Jinx’s lap, and saw the way Sokka was pretending not to look.

Katara’s gaze softened as she smiled gently. She knows Sokka wasn’t good with feelings, he never had been. He fumbled over words, masked things in sarcasm, deflected every heavy moment with something ridiculous or loud. 

But every now and then—when it really counted—Sokka paid attention. And this? This was one of those moments.

Katara watched as Jinx lifted another piece of the dried meat to her mouth and chewed without expression. 

It wasn’t a big gesture, nothing dramatic, but it made Katara’s throat tighten all the same. She didn’t miss the way Sokka didn’t comment, didn’t boast, or ask anymore of his questions. 

Katara’s blue eyes drifted back to the clouds ahead, her heart a strange tangle of worry and hope. Maybe Jinx would someday let herself become one of them. But today, at least, she hadn’t pushed them away and that meant something.

The clouds parted slightly, letting more sunlight spill across the saddle. Appa rumbled beneath them with a slow, contented breath, outstretched like sails catching wind from a world that hadn’t quite forgotten how to be gentle.

Jinx sat still. She didn’t speak, nor smile, but her hands weren’t clenched anymore and she didn’t shove the food away.

Sokka said nothing, but he stayed exactly where he was staring at the endless morning sky.

Katara turned her gaze forward again, tightening her grip on the round blue pendant of her necklace as the mountains began to fall behind them—stone and silence giving way to rolling green hills and distant rivers glittering in the morning light.

They had a long journey ahead, but they weren’t flying alone.

Not anymore.

End of Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Sokka holds the map up to the sunlight, squinting at it with mild irritation. “You have no idea where you’re going, do you?”

Aang laughs sheepishly. “Well…I know it’s near water?”

Sokka raises an eyebrow, glancing down at the endless blue stretching below them. “Oh, great. Then we must be really close,” He deadpans.

Jinx, sitting cross-legged at the back of the saddle with her Monkey Bomb in her lap, snorts at Sokka’s sarcasm. “Wow, you guys are so inspiring. It’s a wonder how you’re still alive.”

Sokka frowns at her. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, not looking up, her glowing pink eyes flickering down to the bomb she was tinkering with. “Just saying, I’ve seen better plans from drunk flying rat-bat.”

“Hey!” Aang protests, turning to glance at her, “Momo’s very strategic when he wants to be.”

Momo chitters indignantly from Katara’s lap, as if agreeing with Aang.

“Sure he is,” Jinx mutters, twirling a screwdriver between her fingers.

Meanwhile, Katara is busy sewing Sokka’s pants, seemingly unfazed by the banter around her.

“Momo, marbles please!” Aang calls out cheerfully. Momo scampers over to fetch the marbles, dropping them into Aang’s hands with practiced flair.

“Look at this, Katara!” Aang exclaims, spinning the marbles in a small whirlwind with his Airbending.

Katara doesn’t look up, her focus still on the stitching. “That’s great, Aang.”

“You didn’t even look,” He mumbled, deflated.

“That’s great,” Katara repeats absentmindedly, pulling the thread taut.

Jinx rolled her eyes, leaning back against the saddle’s edge. “Oh, yeah. Real impressive. Airbender boy can juggle marbles. What’s next—shadow puppets?”

Aang frowned for half a second—then perked up. “You’d be amazed at what I can do with shadow puppets!”

Jinx raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Can’t wait to see that.”

Katara finally glanced up, offering Jinx a small smile. “He’s just trying to have fun. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Jinx looked away, her expression hardening. “Yeah, sure. Fun.” She tightened her grip on the Monkey Bomb and muttered under her breath, “That’s worked out great for me so far.”

The group falls silent for a moment, the only sound being the whoosh of wind as Appa glides through the air.

Aang, sensing the tension, turned in his seat again. “You’ll get there,” he said softly, his optimism still unworn.

Jinx doesn’t reply, but for a brief moment, her expression softens, her gaze flickering to the endless horizon ahead.

Sokka, lounging in the saddle, waved his arm breezily at Aang. “Stop bugging her, Airhead. You gotta give girls space when they’re doing their sewing.”

Katara shot him a glare. “What does me being a girl have to do with sewing?”

Sokka, completely unfazed, rested his hands behind his head. “Simple. Girls are better at fixing pants than guys. And guys are better at hunting, fighting, and stuff like that."

“It’s just the natural order of things,” He added nonchalantly.

“Oh? Is that how the ‘natural order’ works?” Jinx didn’t even look up from her work. “Guess guys are also naturally better at getting their pants ripped in the first place.”

Sokka turned, offended. “Hey! I’ll have you know these pants were torn in the line of duty.”

Jinx, still not looking up. “Did the soup attack you this time?”

“No!” Sokka sat up. “I tripped on a root. While chasing a boar-q-pine. It was dangerous.”

Katara scoffed. “You mean the one that turned out to be a bush?”

“An aggressive bush,” Sokka corrected. “With very pointy leaves.”

Jinx tilted her head, dry as dust. “Wow. So brave. Someone should write a ballad.”

“Thank you,” Sokka said proudly—then blinked. “Wait—you’re just being sarcastic again.”

Jinx smirked but didn’t answer as Aang stifled a laugh behind his hand. Momo squeaked with what sounded suspiciously like delight.

Sokka groaned, flopping back dramatically against the saddle.

“Hey, Sokka!” Katara’s voice laced with faux sweetness. “All done with your pants!” She held them up—still very much ripped. “Look what a great job I did!” Then chucked them at his face, they hit with a thwap.

Sokka scrambled, pulling the pants off his head. “Wait! I was just kidding!” He stuck one arm through a massive hole. “I can’t wear these! Katara, please!”

Jinx smirked, resting her chin on her palm. “I don’t know, Sokka. They’ve got a kind of… rugged charm. Very you.”

Sokka clutched the pants like they were sacred. “Rugged charm?! These pants are a national treasure! They were stitched with honor! With history!”

“They’re just ripped pants, drama queen,” Jinx said flatly.

Sokka gasped like she’d just insulted his ancestors. “These pants have survived things. Wild beasts. Harsh winters—”

Jinx yawned. “Yeah, yeah. Give it a rest, warrior poet. I’m already bored.”

Sokka held up the pants like a fallen banner. “These have structural failure, not style points!”

Katara crossed her arms. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before opening your mouth about the ‘natural order.’”

“You maimed my dignity,” Sokka said solemnly.

Jinx leaned back, arms loosely wrapped over her knees. “Trust me, Sokka. It left the moment you declared war on a bush.”

Aang snorted, barely holding it in while Momo rolled onto his back, tiny limbs flailing in joy.

Sokka looked at them all, still clutching the pants like a dying comrade. “Fine. Laugh it up. But when I freeze to death in my sleep, just remember—this is how heroes are forgotten.”

He folded the pants dramatically and draped them over his shoulder like a fallen soldier’s flag. “Tell the next village I was a warrior. And that I looked amazing until the very end.”

Katara smirked. “We’ll make sure your legacy lives on in song.”

Aang nodded, solemn. “We’ll call it The Ballad of Sokka and the Bush.”

“Hey!” Sokka pointed at him. “That bush had thorns! Very pointy thorns. Don’t rewrite history!”

“You were shouting curses at leaves,” Katara deadpanned.

Jinx chuckled under her breath, gaze half-lidded as she leaned her cheek into her hand. “Careful, Mr. Boomerang. You keep losing fights to plants, and the trees are gonna start spreading rumors.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Ms. Gloom.” Sokka shot her a look, though his mouth twitched. He paused, then eyed her again—smirking, relaxed, something a little warmer hiding in the glance.

Then he held up the pants to the wind. “I’ll never recover from this betrayal—from my own sister. My dignity is in tatters.”

Katara crossed her arms. “So are your pants.”

Sokka turned to Jinx, serious again. “I hope you’re proud of yourself. Mocking a warrior in mourning.”

Jinx leaned forward, chin still propped on her hand. “Oh, I’m very proud. Your misfortune is the highlight of my morning.”

Aang was wheezing now, both hands clamped over his mouth. Momo flailed even harder, rolling into Katara’s lap like a squeaky furball.

Sokka narrowed his eyes. “Just wait for the next real boar-q-pine ambush. We’ll see who needs rugged charm and tactical thigh ventilation.”

Jinx snorted, shaking her head. “Thigh ventilation. That’s what we’re calling it now?”

Sokka wiggled his eyebrows. “Fashion and function.”

Katara groaned. “Spirits, just throw him off the bison.”

“I would,” Jinx replied. “But I think he’d bounce.”

"No, but seriously Katara I can't wear this." Sokka buried his face in his war-torn pants with a muffled groan.

“Relax, Sokka!” Aang called from the front, tugging Appa’s reins to the left. “Where we’re going, you won’t need pants!”

Appa let out a low bellow as they dipped into a slow descent—just ahead, an island emerged from the sea as Jinx’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight, her smirk faded as her hand moved—slowly—resting on the Monkey Bomb by her side.

A far-off shot shows Appa resting on the sand, tail flicking lazily while Team Avatar dismounts and wanders toward the shoreline.

Sokka crosses his arms. “We just made a pit stop yesterday. Shouldn’t we get a little more flying done before we camp out?” 

Aang, his hand held against his brow shading his eyes already scanning the horizon looking for something.

Katara chimed in worriedly. “He’s right. At this rate, we won’t get to the North Pole until spring.”

Aang straightens and innocently gestures his Bison. “But Appa’s tired,” He says, patting the bison’s flank. “Aren’t you, buddy?”

Appa grunts without conviction.

Aang elbows his leg and says louder, “I said—aren’t you, buddy?”

Appa puts slightly more enthusiasm behind his response this time with a louder grunt and opens his mouth wide in an exaggerated yawn. 

Jinx raises an eyebrow, folds her arms, unimpressed. “Wow. A performance for the ages. Truly convincing.”

Aang smiles over his shoulder at the group.

“Yeah, that was REAL convincing,” Sokka sarcastically said, yet somewhat fearfully added, “Still, hard to argue with a ten-ton magical monster,"

“Guess that ‘natural order’ means we listen to the ten-ton magical monster too, huh?” Jinx adds with a smirk.

Sokka sticks his tongue out at her.

Before Jinx can reply, Aang gasps and takes off toward the shore. “Look!”

They follow his gaze—out in the bay, a massive fish bursts from the water in a sparkling arc before splashing back down as the two siblings and Jinx are staring in awe at the giant fish.

“That’s why we’re here,” Aang says, already tugging at his tunic as another elephant koi leaps, sending a spray high into the air.

“Elephant koi!” Aang beams. “I’m gonna ride it! Katara, watch me!” He charges into the shallows and dives in and as soon he submerges, he jumps back out.

“Cold!” Aang exclaims as he shivers within the water.

Leaning against a palm trunk, Jinx shakes her head. “Brilliant plan, Airhead. Next time, maybe test the water before diving in.”

Katara snickers softly.

Sokka groans. “This is gonna be a long stop.”

The three of them stand at the water’s edge as Aang wades deeper, all boundless energy and reckless joy. Jinx’s gaze lingers on him—on how utterly unburdened he looks, laughter spilling out like the world hasn’t taken anything.

It tugs at something sharp in her chest, that same ache from the flight earlier. For a second, she’s not seeing him—she’s seeing flashes of a younger Vi grinning, Vander’s heavy hand on her shoulder to Isha’s laughter. 

All of them alive.

All of them before.

What they could've been. 

What it should have been but didn't, and now it never will.

The water churns, snapping her back. Aang surfaces clutching the dorsal fin of a koi the size of a boat, whooping as it carries him into the air.

She then looks away, picks idly at her nails and mutters under her breath. “Is this what you people do for fun? Risk your neck for a cheap thrill?”

“Honestly? Pretty much.” Sokka, rolling his eyes, makes a circular motion near his temple with his left hand, signaling that he thinks Aang is crazy.

Aang dives into the deeper waters and surfaces moments later, gripping the dorsal fin of a giant koi fish, it leaps out of the water with Aang on its back before diving again.

Katara claps. “Wow! Look at him! That’s amazing!”

Jinx raises an eyebrow and tilts her head. “Yeah, amazing…if your goal is to get swallowed whole by something bigger.”

Sokka smirks at her comment. “Exactly what I’m thinking. The fish is doing all the work anyway.”

Momo bounces up and down excitedly as Aang’s koi fish reappears, racing through the water with two other koi jumping alongside it as Aang waves at them cheerfully, laughing as though he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Whooh!” Katara whoops enthusiastically, waving back.

Jinx’s lips curl into a faint smirk despite herself. “You’re way too easily impressed. Either that, or you don’t value your lives much.”

Katara gives her a playful side-eye. “Oh, come on, Jinx. Lighten up a little. It’s just some harmless fun.”

“Harmless?” Jinx scoffs, “Sure. Until that fish decides it’s hungry.”

Before Katara can reply, she notices Appa sniffing something nearby about to eat it and suddenly she runs off to shoo Appa off.

Katara jogged toward the bison, waving her arms. “No, Appa! Don’t eat that! Drop that!" 

Appa froze mid-chew, a suspiciously large lump already in his mouth. He blinked at her, slow and innocent—like maybe if he didn’t move, no one would notice the crime in progress.

Sokka cupped his hands around his mouth. “Too late! He’s already halfway to swallowing the evidence!”

Jinx tilted her head. “Guess he learned from the best.”

Sokka turned, hand to chest, deeply offended. “Are you implying I eat suspicious, possibly poisonous things?”

She raised both brows, deadpan. “Do you not?”

“…That’s beside the point.” Sokka jabbed a finger toward Appa. “Point is—he’s setting a dangerous example for Momo!”

Momo, sitting on a nearby rock with his cheeks bulging suspiciously, blinks…then spits out a strange bright looking purple 'berry' that hisses.

Meanwhile, Aang’s cheerful expression falters as he watches Katara leave, his excitement dimming into disappointment.

“Oh, man…” He mutters. 

Before Sokka can reply further, a dark shadow looms beneath the water. his eyes widened. “There’s something in the water!” He exclaimed. 

Jinx stiffens, her glowing eyes flickering brighter as she scans the bay. “No kidding. And it’s huge.”

One of the koi fish leaps out of the water, only to be dragged back under by something unseen while Aang, still oblivious to the danger, waves at his friends again.

Katara runs back toward the shore, brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

“Aang’s in trouble!” Sokka cups his hands around his mouth. “Aang! Get out of there!”

“Aang!” Katara shouts, panic edging her voice.

Jinx narrows her gaze, muttering low. “Of course he’s in trouble. It’s always the reckless ones.”

Aang’s cheerful demeanor vanishes as the koi fish he’s riding is suddenly yanked downward, throwing him into the water. “Whaaaahhh!” He yells as he splashes into the lake.

Jinx takes an involuntary step forward, fists tightening. “I swear, if he gets eaten, I’m not saving him,” she mutters—though her tense stance says otherwise.

The massive dorsal fin of the unseen creature breaks the surface, heading straight for Aang.

Aang gasps in alarm, spins around mid-paddle, eyes wide. “Whaaaah!!”

Jinx’s eyes glow brighter as she watches him flee. “So, what’s the plan? Wait for him to get chomped and call it a day?”

“Swim faster, Aang!” Sokka voice cracks, his arms flailing.

“Don’t stop, Aang!” Katara screams, panic rising in her voice.

Aang thrashes toward the shallows, water spraying behind him, the fin slicing closer and closer—then vanishing just as he crashes into Sokka, sending both tumbling in the sand with grunted groans. 

Katara skids to them, breathing hard. “What was that thing?”

“I don’t know,” Aang replies, quickly pulling on his clothes.

“Let’s not stick around to find out,” Sokka says, brushing off sand as he glares at Aang. “I vote that it's time to hit the road.”

Jinx crosses her arms, glaring at Aang. “Okay—first off, what was that thing? And second…” she gestures at him in mock exasperation, “…why do I get the feeling this happens to you a lot?”

Aang offers a sheepish smile. “Uh… well…”

Jinx rolls her eyes. "Yeah. This trip just keeps getting better…” she muttered under her breath as they start gathering their things and head further inland together. 

Then suddenly, Kyoshi Warriors drop from the treetops, fans snapping open mid-fall and, in an instant, the clearing erupts into chaos.

Sokka is yanked backward, hitting the dirt with a grunt, Katara is spun around by her parka and pulled down, and Aang barely turns before a rope cinches tight around his chest as Momo screeches, wings flapping—only to vanish into a bag, his head poking out in outrage.

A warrior moves for Jinx—and the air changes.

Her glowing pink eyes flare, and a sudden gust whips at the sand around her boots. She pivots aside with impossible speed, leaving the attacker grasping at empty air before being slammed sideways by the wind.

Katara, still tangled in her parka, catches a glimpse through the fabric. “What—what was that?!”

Jinx doesn’t answer. Shimmer burns through her veins, her breath quick and sharp. Another warrior charges and Jinx meets her halfway, catching the fan mid-swing, twisting until the weapon clatters to the dirt and followed by a heel kick to the chest that sends the girl sprawling.

“She’s bending!” Sokka shouts, shoving his own attacker off him. “And—how is she so fast?!”

Three more warriors close in at once, moving in perfect sync. Jinx drops low, air swirling into a tight cyclone around her as the first is knocked flat by a sharp gust. The second has her weapon ripped from her grip before being flung backward into the sand while the third barely raises her fan before Jinx’s strike slams into it, the shockwave rattling the trees.

Suki steps forward, fans high, eyes locked on Jinx. “Stand down! You’re… an Airbender? But all the Airbenders—a-are you the Avatar?!”

The words barely register as Jinx lunges, her glow locking onto Suki as her face splits to a chilling angry expression. The block holds, but the sheer force drives Suki back several feet, boots carving lines in the dirt.

A sudden blast of wind shoves them apart—Aang landing between them, rope now left loose on the ground. “Jinx, stop!” he shouts, the wind swirling protectively around him. “You’re going to hurt someone!”

Jinx freezes, panting, the cyclone at her feet dying down, but her eyes still blaze, her hands trembling. “They attacked first,” she growls.

“Jinx…” Aang’s voice softens, stepping closer. “You’re an Airbender. Air Nomads don’t harm others.”

Jinx flinches at the word, her eyes narrowing. The glow in her eyes falters, dimming as she takes a shaky step back. “Air Nomads?” She repeats, confusion cutting through her voice. “What are you talking about?”

Suki lowers her fans slightly, though her stance stays tight and ready. “Which one of you is the Avatar?” Her gaze darts between Aang and Jinx, disbelief etched across her face. 

“I’m the Avatar,” Aang says, his voice steady but his attention fixed on Jinx. “But—what you just did…that was Airbending.”

Jinx shakes her head sharply, her voice rising, almost defensive. “What is an Avatar? What are you all talking about?!”

Sokka, brushing sand from his tunic, pauses and gives her a long, skeptical look. “You’re telling me you can bend air, didn't know what bending was and you’ve never even heard of the most famous well-known person in the world?”

Katara silences Sokka with a sharp glare before turning to Jinx, her voice gentle. “The Avatar is the bridge between the physical and spiritual worlds. They’re the only one who can master all four elements—water, earth, fire, and air.”

Jinx’s glow fades another shade, confusion and exhaustion pulling at her features. She glances at the ring of Kyoshi Warriors who are still watching her warily, still holding position, their fans angled like blades.

Jinx glances at Aang. “I don’t…I don’t know anything about bending or Avatars,” she mutters. “This…this isn’t normal for me.”

Suki exhales sharply and signals her warriors to ease their stances.

“My name is Suki,” She says. “If he’s the Avatar—and you’re an Airbender…” Her voice trails off, uncertainty cutting through her composure. “…We surrender.”

The warriors lower their fans, stepping back to give the group space.

Aang takes a step toward Jinx, voice low, soft, and steady. “Jinx, it’s okay.”

Jinx’s expression hardens, crossing her arms. “I don’t need your help,” she snaps, but the edges of her voice tremble. “I’m not some…Air Nomad or whatever you think I am. This is just…something else.”

Katara trades a worried look with Aang. 

Sokka frowns. “Something else? What does that even mean?”

“Enough questions,” Jinx says sharply, turning away. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Suki, still wary, gestures toward the forest path leading toward the village. “Follow us. But if you try anything like that again…” She leaves the rest unsaid, but her eyes finish the sentence.

Jinx’s lips twitch into a faint smirk, her glow settling back to its usual simmering pink. “Don’t worry. I’m done playing.” There’s a spark in her gaze, though—a quiet dare, daring anyone to dare test her.

As the group begins walking, Jinx lags behind, her mind racing. The Shimmer she understood—mostly. But the Airbending? And this whole “Avatar” thing? None of it made sense.

And that terrified her.

Jinx stepped off Appa last, her pink eyes scanning the village with a mix of weariness and apathy. The air was different here—cleaner, quieter. The salt of the ocean clung to the breeze, far fresher than the polluted, metallic tang she’d grown up breathing in Zaun.

“Did you hear the news?!” a little girl squealed, darting past with bare feet slapping against the dock. “The Avatar’s on Kyoshi!” She clapped her hands, laughing as she disappeared down the street.

An old fisherman froze mid-step, his basket slipping from his grasp. Shellfish scattered across the planks, forgotten as his eyes went wide. Without a word, he followed the rest of the villagers who were already gathering, the tide of bodies growing by the second.

“The Avatar has returned!” someone shouted. Gasps rippled through the crowd, and in moments they were surging toward Aang like a tidal wave.

Aang scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. “Uh… hi, everyone!”

Jinx lingered at the edge, leaning against a weathered post, arms folded. The villagers swarmed Aang, voices tumbling over one another in excitement—until one man collapsed, foaming at the mouth.

Jinx arched a brow. “…Is this guy always such a big deal?”

Katara turned to her with a small smile. “Well, he is the Avatar. He’s kind of important in this world.”

“Yeah, I figured that part out,” Jinx said dryly, blue bangs bouncing as she shook her head. “But they’re acting like he’s some kind of… miracle.”

“He is,” Katara replied simply, reverence threading her voice.

Jinx didn’t answer. Her gaze slid back to the chaos.

The crowd’s energy spiked again when Aang produced a pouch of marbles, tossed them skyward, weaving air around them until they spun in intricate patterns—shaping animals, flowers, even a tiny Kyoshi Island.

The villagers gasped, clapped, and cheered.

Jinx stayed in the shadows, unimpressed. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

A little girl nearby tilted her head at her. “Why aren’t you clapping?”

Jinx glanced down at her, face unreadable. “Because I don’t see what’s so exciting about someone spinning rocks in the air.”

“They’re not rocks—it’s air!” the girl insisted. “Only the Avatar can do that!”

“Sure,” Jinx said flatly, stepping past her without slowing.

The villagers’ excitement didn’t wane, even after when Aang finished, they erupted into applause, chanting his return.

Jinx jaw tightening. 'Back in Zaun, bending this hat would’ve been a weapon, a way to keep people in line...a tool for war and greed. Here, it was just…entertainment.'

By nightfall, the village had prepared a massive feast in honor of Aang’s arrival. Lantern light bathed the square in warm gold, and the smell of roasted fish, steamed vegetables, and dumplings rolled through the air like a promise. Somewhere nearby, paint buckets and brushes clinked and scraped as villagers repainted the towering statue of Avatar Kyoshi, its colors blooming back into brilliant green and gold.

Jinx sat on the outskirts of the feast, perched on a low wall. A plate of untouched food sat beside her, steam curling into the night as she picked absently at the edge of her leather top as she stared blankly at the plate, hunger had stopped being a familiar feeling a long time ago.

Sokka, on the other hand—sitting on the opposite side of the feast— sulked, arms folded, jaw set tight. His defeat stung of losing to the Kyoshi Warriors clearly hadn’t worn off.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who usually doesn’t shut up,” Jinx remarked, breaking the silence.

Sokka shot her a glare. “Not in the mood, Jinx.”

She tilted her head, smirking. “What’s the matter, Boomerang? Big, strong warrior gets outclassed by a girl?”

Sokka’s face turned red. “They got lucky! I-I wasn’t even trying!” His voice cracked just enough to make her smirk widen.

“Right,” Jinx drawled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Mm-hm. Sure. You ‘weren’t trying.’ Totally explains why you ended up face-first in the dirt.”

Sokka glared at her, opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off with a lazy shrug. 

“You know,” She continued, “Word of advice? Stop underestimating people. You might actually win a fight now and then, and then you won’t keep getting your butt handed to you.”

Sokka scoffed, crossing his arms tighter. “What would you know about it? You’re not a warrior.” The jab came out sharper than he meant, but he wasn’t about to take it back—not to her face—not when he’d seen the way she moved earlier and how the Kyoshi Warriors weren’t able to detain her at all while he immediately folded in a matter of seconds. 

Jinx’s smirk faltered for a brief moment, her pink eyes narrowing, “You don’t know the first thing about me, Boomerang Boy.”

“Yeah, well—”

“Enough, you two,” Katara interrupted as she approached, with a full plate of food in hand. “Can’t we have one meal without the two of you at each other’s throats?” Her disapproving look was enough to make both of them scowl like children caught bickering. 

“Tell that to her,” Sokka muttered, gesturing towards Jinx.

“Please,” Jinx scoffed. “Like I started it, not my fault he's a sore loser."

“I don’t care who started it,” Katara said firmly before getting cut off.

“Sore loser?!" Sokka’s head snapped toward her, eyes wide, sat up straighter, affronted. "I’m not a sore loser. I’ll have you know I am a very gracious loser—when I actually lose!”

“Uh-huh,” Jinx drawled, smirking. “So…all the time, then?”

Sokka’s ears went red. “I w-was strategizing!” He protested, jabbing a finger at her.

“That’s what you call eating sand?” Jinx quipped back. 

“Enough.” Katara cut in sharply her tone leaving no room for argument. "Sokka, give it a rest and eat your dinner before it gets cold. And Jinx? Stop antagonizing my brother and just eat."

Sokka grumbled something under his breath but said no more, while Jinx leaned back against the wall, satisfied with her latest verbal jab.

The feast wore on, Jinx, observing everyone in silence as she listened to the ongoing constant sounds and voices around her. Aang laughed with the villagers, his joy infectious, bright and easy as Katara sat nearby, smiling, enjoying the food and engaging in polite conversation—and Sokka eventually caved and started eating.

Jinx stayed on the fringe, the music and chatter swelling and fading like it all belonged to a different world...made her feel alien in such a place as this. Her eyes drifted to the untouched plate in front of her, then to the flickering firelight on the faces in the crowd.

'...I don't belong here...I don't belong here anywhere.'

A soft chitter broke her thoughts, Momo flying over her head, onto the wall before landing and then scrambled beside her, head tilted.

“Great. A furry little stalker,” she muttered.

Momo chirped and reached hesitantly for the food on her plate, wide round eyes, eyeing her carefully to see if she'd shoo him away again like always had days prior when he tried to snatch her food.

Jinx sighed, and slid it toward him. “Knock yourself out, furball.”

Momo dove in happily, churring through mouthfuls, she quietly watched the lemur dug in, and for the first time this night...she let a small genuine smile ghost across her face before it faded again as her gaze slipped back to the feast, the laughter, the light.

She had no idea what she was doing here. 

She still didn’t know why she hadn’t run yet.

The feast had long since ended, and the villagers of Kyoshi Island had graciously offered Team Avatar a place to stay. It was a simple, cozy building with bamboo walls and woven mats for beds.

Jinx followed the others inside, her steps hesitant, kept her distance, lingering near the doorway as the others set down their belongings.

Katara and Sokka quickly claimed their mats, stretching out after the long day. Aang, ever full of energy, was busy fussing over Momo and brushing bits of food out of his fur.

Jinx, meanwhile, stood awkwardly, unsure where to settle.

“You can take that mat over there,” Katara offered, gesturing to an empty spot near the wall.

Jinx glanced at it but didn’t move. “Thanks…I guess.”

“You’re not just going to stand there all night, are you?” Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow as he lay back with his arms behind his head.

Jinx shot him a look. “Maybe I will. Got a problem with that?”

“Okay, lets not start.” Katara said firmly, cutting off their budding argument before it could escalate.

Jinx finally relented, dropping her bag near the mat and sitting down cross-legged. She rested her elbows on her knees, her pink eyes scanning the room as the lantern flickered, shadows swaying across the walls, and the muffled crash of waves outside filled the space between them.

Sokka stretched out with a contented groan. “Finally, a real roof over my head. No bugs. No sand. No—”

“Your whining?” Jinx cut in dryly from her corner, her pink eyes glinting faintly in the dim light.

Sokka turned to retort, but Katara shot him a warning glance. He huffed and flopped back onto his mat, muttering something about “annoying Airbenders.”

Jinx’s gaze shifted to Momo, who was perched on Aang’s shoulder, his big eyes blinking curiously at her. For a moment, her hardened expression cracked, and the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

“What’s with the rat-bat thing?” she asked, nodding toward Momo.

Aang smiles. “He’s a flying lemur. They used to live in the Air Temples.”

Momo tilted his head, his ears twitching, and Jinx let out a soft chuckle, “Weird little guy,” she muttered, but there was no venom in her tone.

After a long pause, Jinx asked. “So…is it always like this?”

Aang looked up from brushing crumbs out of Momo’s fur. “Like what?”

“This,” she said, making a vague gesture. “The villages. People falling over themselves because you’re the 'Avatar'. The cheering, the feasts, the… painting statues.”

Aang chuckled sheepishly. “Well, not everywhere is going to be like this but...yeah, a lot of people are excited to see me. The Avatar’s supposed to bring balance to the world, so…I guess it gives them hope.”

“Hope,” Jinx repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “Hope that you’ll…what? Save the day? Fix everything?”

“That’s the idea,” Aang said, his tone light but earnest.

Jinx shook her head, a dry laugh escaping her lips. “You’re just a kid. What do they think you’re gonna do?”

Aang’s smile faltered slightly. “Well…I’m trying to learn everything I can so I can stop the Fire Lord and end the war.”

Jinx was quiet. ‘Fire Lord? War?'  She was even more confused, but instead she decided it was probably better to just stay quiet and wait for a bit longer for the answers to come to her.

As the others settled, Aang turned toward Jinx, sitting cross-legged near Momo, who was lazily grooming himself.

His gray eyes flickered with curiosity as he observed her, as though trying to piece together an intricate puzzle. “You know,” Aang began quietly, “You and I…we’re the same.”

Jinx looked up sharply. “What?”

“We’re the last Airbenders,” Aang clarified, almost apologetic, his voice carrying a bittersweet tone. “That’s why I was staring the other day. I’ve never seen anyone else who can Airbend. There isn’t anyone left. I thought for a moment that I was the only one.”

For a moment, Jinx said nothing, lips pressed into a thin line, and her fingers drummed lightly against her knee. "Well,” she said flatly. “Lucky you. You’re not.”

Aang blinked, surprised by her tone. “I-I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, “I just…I thought maybe—”

“Maybe what?” Jinx interrupted, her voice rising slightly. “Maybe we’d be best buddies? Share all our Airbender secrets and braid each other’s hair?” She leaned forward, her pink eyes narrowing. “Listen, Baldy, just because we can both move air doesn’t mean we’re the same.”

Aang flinched at her words but held his ground. “I wasn’t trying to offend you,” he said softly, “I just…I know how hard it is to lose everything. To be the only one left.”

Jinx’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know anything about me,” Her expression tightened, didn’t say anything more, instead brushing her bangs from her face and looking away. “Don’t lump me in with you, Baldy.”

Katara broke the silence with her gentle voice. “Jinx, you have us now, if there's—"

Jinx snorted, the sound harsh in the quiet room, “Oh, great. A monk, a boomerang boy, and a water princess. Just what I’ve always wanted.”

Sokka bristled. “Hey! First of all, it’s Sokka. And second, you’re not exactly Miss Sunshine yourself, you know.”

“Good,” Jinx shot back, “Because I’m not trying to win any popularity contests.”

Katara sighed.

Aang stepped in before the argument could escalate. “We’re all in this together now,” he said firmly, “We’ve all lost things. Lost important people. And maybe…maybe we can help each other.”

Jinx’s expression softened slightly, but she quickly masked it with a scowl, leaning back against the wall.

Aang blinked but didn’t seem offended. Instead, he tilted his head, his curiosity deepening, “You said you didn’t grow up in the Air Temples.”

“I didn’t,” Jinx said flatly, her arms crossing defensively.

Sokka dropped his act of disinterest, sat up slightly at that, “Wait a second. If you’re not from the Air Temples, then where exactly are you from?”

Jinx shot him a warning glare.

He ignored it.

“Seriously,” Sokka continued, “You’ve got blue hair, pink eyes, and tattoos that don’t match anything I’ve ever seen. You’re obviously not from around here. So, what’s the deal?”

Jinx hesitated, fingers tightening around the hem of her ripped pants. For a moment, she considered brushing off the question entirely, but something about Sokka’s genuine curiosity—and Aang’s hopeful gaze—made her pause.

“Zaun,” she said finally, her voice quiet.

“Zaun?” Katara repeated, tilting her head, “I’ve never heard of that place. Is it in the Earth Kingdom?”

Jinx’s lips pressed into a thin line. “No.” She hesitated before adding, “It doesn’t matter where it is. It’s gone now.”

The room fell silent. The weight of her words hung in the air, and even Sokka, usually quick with a quip, said nothing.

Aang’s face fell, guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry,” He said softly, voice trembling slightly, “Was it the Fire Nation? Did they…?”

Jinx’s head whipped around, and her pink eyes locked onto his.

“The Fire Nation?” she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief, pink eyes flickered, studying his expression, and saw the pain there, the guilt etched into his face, and for a moment...felt a pang of something awfully familiar.

“No,” she said finally, her voice low but firm. “The Fire Nation had nothing to do with it.”

Aang looked confused, but he didn’t press further.

Sokka leaned forward slightly. “So…what happened?”

“It’s just…gone,” Jinx continued, her tone bitter. “The smoke choked it out. The people, the streets, everything. Gone.” She waved a hand dismissively, as if trying to push the memory away, “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

Aang’s gaze softened. “It does matter,” he said quietly, “I know what it’s like to lose everything. To be the only one left.”

Jinx scoffed, leaning back against the wall, “Yeah, yeah, yeah! I know you said that many times, well, you don’t see me crying about it, do you?”

Katara frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling grief, Jinx. It’s part of healing.”

“Who said I wanted to heal?” Jinx shot back, her pink eyes narrowing, “What’s done is done. I’m not dragging myself through it again just to feel better about it.”

"..." Aang looked at her with sadness.

Sokka, who had been leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his usual expression, replaced by something more subdued. “That’s…not really how it works,” he said carefully. “You don’t just skip over it and expect it to disappear. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

"..." Jinx’s gaze flicked toward him, suspicious. 

Sokka held her stare for a beat before shrugging lightly. “Just lot of sleepless nights. And the fun realization that ignoring it just makes it bite harder later.”

She looked away first, lips pressing into a thin line. “Sounds like your problem, not mine.”

“Yeah,” Sokka said quietly, settling back onto his mat, “That’s what I said too."

Jinx didn’t respond further, instead turning her gaze toward the ceiling, her expression unreadable as the room fell silent again, save for the faint sound of Momo rustling in the corner.

Despite her sharp words, Jinx found her thoughts returning to the strange group she had found herself with. Aang, with his relentless optimism and guilt. Katara, with her calm determination. Sokka, with his skepticism and humor. And then there was Momo—a strange little creature with curious eyes that seemed to see right through her.

She sighed, closing her eyes.

This world wasn’t hers.

These people weren’t hers, but for now, she was stuck here.

“My people didn’t need help tearing themselves apart.” Jinx revealed. 

The group exchanged uneasy glances, but Jinx wasn’t finished.

“Zaun was a pit,” she said bitterly. “The air was poison, the streets were chaos, and the people…well, they weren’t much better. We didn’t need a war to destroy us. We did it just fine on our own.”

Aang’s expression was a mix of confusion and sorrow. “But… you’re still here,” he said tentatively. “You survived.”

“Yeah,” Jinx said flatly. “Lucky me.”

Across the room, Sokka shifted just slightly on his mat. He didn’t say anything—didn’t crack a joke, didn’t jab back—but his gaze lingered on her a moment too long.

When Jinx glanced his way, he was already looking elsewhere, pretending to fuss with his blanket. She didn’t notice the way his brows had furrowed, or how he was turning over her words in silence.

Then, Katara dimmed the lantern, its light shrinking to a faint flicker.

Jinx lay on her back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, though she wasn’t really seeing it. The muffled crash of waves outside, the occasional creak of bamboo, the soft breathing of the others—it all pressed in around her, almost too warm, too trusting.

Aang, with his blinding optimism and quiet guilt, reminded her of something she couldn’t quite place. Katara’s relentless kindness was suffocating, yet strangely comforting. And Sokka…well, he was annoying, but at least he was predictable. Even the little lemur curled up on the mat beside Aang—they all fit together like pieces in a picture she didn’t belong in.

Jinx turned onto her side, pulling her knees in, her back to the room. The faint beeping from her bag bled into the quiet, soft and steady, like a clock marking time she didn’t have. She didn’t need to open it to see the Monkey Bomb in her mind—wires coiled like veins, the gleam of metal waiting for her hands.

A promise.
A way out.

Her pink eyes glowed faintly in the dark as she stared at the wall. The so-called “mission” still sat in the back of her mind, tempting in its simplicity, final in its solution.

She could stop running.

Stop fighting.

Stop feeling.

‘So much for “breaking” the cycle…’  Jinx let out a heavy sigh, her fingers twitched once, then curled into fists, and shut her eyes, but the beeping stayed.

Across the room, Sokka shifted slightly on his mat, one eye half-opening. He frowned faintly, his gaze drifting toward her bag at the sound—but the rhythm of the beeping was too soft, too out of place, for him to place it.

Not yet.

The small room, quiet, save for the faint rustling of the wind outside and the occasional squeak from Momo as he re-adjusted himself on Aang’s chest. Katara and Sokka were already curled up on their mats, their soft breathing a steady rhythm in the stillness.

Jinx had chosen a corner farthest from the group, lying on her side with her back turned to everyone, her twin braids sprawled over her shoulder.

Aang lay on his mat, staring at the wooden beams above them, unable to drift off like the others. Momo’s tiny paws occasionally kneaded his tunic as the lemur snored lightly, but the boy's mind was far from the cozy scene around him.

His thoughts were stuck on Jinx—on her words, her sharp tone, and the way her pink eyes had burned with defiance earlier when she talked about Zaun. ‘Zaun. A place I’ve never even heard of. And now it’s gone.’ He let out a soft sigh, careful not to disturb Momo.

It wasn’t just what she said that haunted him—it was the way she said it, like she was trying to shove the memories away even as they clawed at her. That bitterness, that hopelessness…it was something Aang didn’t fully understand, but it felt heavy enough to crush her.

And then there was the look she gave him when he’d asked if the Fire Nation were responsible. The disbelief in her voice when she repeated the words, like the idea was absurd to her, but it was the way her eyes lingered on him for just a fraction too long that had stuck with him.

‘Was she sparing me? ’ He wondered, his stomach twisting. ‘Does she think I’d blame myself for what happened to Zaun? ’

He’d learned enough in the short time since waking up to know what the Fire Nation’s war had done—entire villages destroyed, cultures suppressed, families torn apart, and the genocide of his own people. 

Even if the Fire Nation hadn’t directly touched Zaun, Aang knew that the chaos they unleashed might’ve still reached it in some way. Wars didn’t leave anything untouched—not people, not lands, not even places so far away that their names never made it to the maps.

He stared up at the ceiling, feeling Momo’s tiny breaths rise and fall against his chest. His mind replayed Jinx’s bitter voice:

“My people didn’t need help tearing themselves apart. We did it just fine on our own. ”

He flinched inwardly, ‘She said it...like it was nothing. But I know it wasn’t. She’s just hiding it. Like I’ve tried to hide how much it hurts to think about the Air Nomads.’ Aang’s fingers absently scratched behind Momo’s ear as he turned his head slightly, glancing toward Jinx’s still form in the corner...she looked small, curled up on the thin mat, her back to the rest of them. 

Aang wondered what kind of place Zaun had been, what kind of people her family had been. She mentioned smoke choking the streets, chaos in the air. It sounded nothing like the Air Temples he grew up in, but that didn’t matter.

It was still her home.

Maybe if the war hadn’t happened, Zaun might’ve had a chance.

‘Maybe her people would still be there. Maybe…I failed them too .’ Aang bit his lip, guilt creeping over him again.

He didn’t know much about Zaun, but the way Jinx talked about it—like it had been doomed long before it disappeared—made him think about the Air Nomads...his people hadn’t seen the Fire Nation’s attack coming.

They’d been peaceful, content, and unprepared. 

‘Would things have been different if I’d stayed? If I hadn’t run away? ’ His gaze flickered back to Jinx, her twin braids faintly illuminated by the moonlight streaming through a crack in the wall. She didn’t seem angry at him, not directly, but that didn’t make it easier to shake the feeling that her loss was somehow tied to his failure.

‘She doesn’t blame me,’ He realized, a lump forming in his throat, ‘But maybe she should.’ He looked back up at the ceiling, swallowing hard. His thoughts churned with questions and regrets.

Still, as Aang closed his eyes, he made a silent vow. ‘I can help her, I will. Even if it doesn’t make up for everything I’ve lost—or everything she’s lost—I want to try...I need to try.’

Momo shifted closer to his neck, and Aang let out a slow breath. Sleep didn’t come easy, but he stayed still, listening to the steady rhythm of the ocean outside and the quiet, stubborn pulse of his vow.

And yet...that heavy weight in his chest never left, only made it's presence more known as long as he was awake, until sleep finally came.

The sun filtered through the windows of the small house where Team Avatar had spent the night, casting soft beams of light across the room. The scent of breakfast wafted in the air, waking the group one by one.

Aang sat up excitedly, throwing his arms into the air. “All right! Breakfast!” he cheered, his voice brimming with energy.

Momo chittered happily as he darted toward the food laid out, his tiny hands eagerly digging into the spread of fruits, nuts, and pastries.

Aang’s eyes landed on a plate of squishy orange puffs with flat tops, their sweet aroma irresistible, and grabbed two without hesitation. “All right! Dessert for breakfast!” He exclaimed before cramming both into his mouth at once, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

Katara, meanwhile, sat cross-legged nearby, poking one of the orange desserts on her plate with a wary expression. She brought it closer to her face, inspecting it skeptically.

Aang, noticing her hesitation, hummed happily as he devoured another puff, talking through a mouthful of food. “These people sure know how to treat an Avatar!” Grinning, he held out one of the desserts toward Katara. “Katara, you gotta try this!”

Katara hesitated before finally relenting. “Well… maybe just a bite.” She set her poked dessert down and accepted Aang’s offering, nibbling cautiously.

As the group ate, Katara reminded them. “We need to gather some supplies for our journey. We still have a long way to go to the North Pole.”

Jinx, sitting cross-legged on her mat with her legs bouncing slightly in idle energy, glanced up at the mention of the North Pole. “What’s at the North Pole?” she asked casually, though her curiosity was genuine.

Aang beamed at her. “I need to find a Waterbending Master to teach me, and Katara wants to learn too!” He motioned to Katara with his half-eaten puff.

Katara nodded, brushing crumbs from her lap. "The Northern Water Tribe is the only place left where we can find Waterbenders who still practice their craft,” she explained, though her tone carried a sense of urgency, “We need to hurry before winter sets in.”

Jinx absorbed this quietly, piecing together what she could about her new environment, she hadn’t spent enough time with them to fully understand this place, but their determination and the groups dynamic —and Aang’s infectious energy was hard to miss.

“Can’t we at least enjoy breakfast before talking about plans?” Sokka groaned from his spot, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face, it was clear mornings weren’t his favorite part of the day.

Aang, ignoring Sokka’s moodiness, glanced out the open window and lit up. “Whoa! Check it out!” He pointed excitedly at the wooden statue of Avatar Kyoshi in the town square, the statue’s face, previously cracked and weathered, had been completely repainted and restored.

“It looks amazing!” He said with a smile.

Jinx, intrigued, stood up from her mat and made her way to the window, brushing strands of blue hair out of her face, leaned over Aang’s shoulder to get a better look at the statue—the villagers’ devotion to the Avatar was clear in the care they’d taken to restore it.

“That’s some dedication,” She muttered, her pink eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the details of the restored statue. She had never seen people revere someone so openly, especially not in Zaun.

The idea of honoring a figure with such pride was…foreign to her.

Vander’s statue. 

Jinx shakes her head to shake off the imagery of the statue of Vander from her mind. 

Aang grinned up at her. “Pretty neat, huh? Kyoshi was an incredible Avatar. She created this island and protected it for generations!”

Jinx tilted her head slightly, still staring at the statue. “I guess if someone saved your home, you’d wanna keep their memory alive,” she said after a pause, her tone unreadable.

Katara joined them at the window, smiling softly. “Kyoshi was one of the most powerful Avatars. The people here never forgot what she did for them.”

Jinx’s lips quivered slightly, though the expression didn’t reach her eyes, and stepped back from the window, heading back to her mat. “Let me know when we’re done marveling over statues,” she said dryly, though there was no real bite in her tone.

Aang watched her retreat with a thoughtful expression before turning back to the window. He couldn’t help but feel a strange connection to Jinx—a mix of hope, curiosity, and an unshakable sense of shared loss.

Aang’s smile faltered as his gaze lingered on Avatar Kyoshi’s statue, standing tall and proud in the square. The villagers had done an incredible job restoring it—every crack and weathered detail smoothed over, every vibrant color repainted with care. She looked as imposing as she must have in life, her gaze forever fixed on the horizon as if watching over her people.

His gray eyes shifted past the statue, taking in the bustling village through the exposed window. The laughter of children, the hum of conversation, the clatter of tools—all signs of a life lived in relative peace.

Aang’s brow furrowed as the weight of the moment settled on him. Avatar Kyoshi’s actions had kept these people safe, her decisions, her strength—they’d built a sanctuary that had endured even in the shadow of war.

'Could I do the same?'

The thought gnawed at him, tugging at the edges of his resolve. How could he ever live up to the legacy of someone like Kyoshi? The war is bigger than anything he could imagine, spanning nations and generations. How could a twelve-year-old boy with a flying bison and a staff ever hope to accomplish enough to stop it?

His fingers tightened around the windowsill as his mind wandered.

What if he’d never run away?

What if he had stayed and faced his responsibilities, had been there from the start to stop the Fire Nation?

Maybe things would be different.

Maybe the Air Nomads would still be alive.

Maybe there wouldn’t be a war at all.

And then another thought, quieter but no less persistent, slipped into his mind. What if he succeeded? What if, somehow, he and his friends managed to stop the Fire Nation, to bring balance back to the world?

Aang glanced back at the statue of Kyoshi, his frown deepening.

Would they build a statue of him too? The idea felt strange—uncomfortable, even. He quite honestly couldn’t picture it: a stone or a wooden figure of himself standing tall and proud like Kyoshi, looking over a village with that same unyielding strength. It felt like too much, like something he could never live up to.

'And yet…knowing people, they probably would.' A small, reluctant smile to his lips, though it didn’t reach his gray eyes.

Aang didn’t want statues.

All he wanted was for the world to be at peace again—for people to be safe, to live their lives without fear...to fix everything.

He sighed, resting his chin in his hand as his gaze drifted back to the village, seeing the sheer hope and faith in these people were overwhelming, almost suffocating. They believed in the Avatar, in him. Aang wasn’t sure if he could carry that weight, but he knew he had to try.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jinx’s figure who had a minute ago retreated to her mat. Her sharp words from the night before lingered in his mind:

“My people didn’t need help tearing themselves apart. ”

Aang then glanced at Momo, who was curled up on the table with a piece of fruit in his paws, happily munching away. He let out a soft laugh, his moment of doubt easing just slightly. He wasn’t alone. He had his friends, and now, maybe, he had Jinx too.

Turning back to the window, he allowed himself one more look at Kyoshi’s statue, her stoic gaze seeming to challenge him. ‘I’ll do my best,’ he thought silently, ‘For them. For everyone.’ 

Aang returned to the group with an impressively stacked plate of breakfast for himself and his friends. The smells of freshly baked pastries, sweet fruits, and savory dishes wafted through the room,.

“All right, time to dig in!” He exclaimed, his energy contagious despite the early hour, reached for one of the desserts on his plate, a puff-like pastry covered in powdered sugar.

Momo suddenly darted forward, snatching it from his hand as the  little lemur chittered mischievously and dashed away to a corner, clutching the treat as if it were the greatest prize in the world.

Aang blinked in surprise before laughing softly. “Guess you really wanted that, huh?” He shook his head, unbothered, and grabbed another dessert from his plate.

Katara, sitting nearby and nibbling on a slice of cake, reached across the table just as Aang claimed his replacement dessert. “Hey, I was going to grab that!” she protested, her voice light but teasing.

“Sorry!” Aang replied with a sheepish grin, holding the dessert protectively before taking a big bite.

Aang glanced to his left and noticed Jinx sitting quietly on her mat, she wasn’t eating, instead staring intently at her nails, her expression distant. It was then that he noticed something he hadn’t before—her middle finger on one hand wasn’t…real...in its place was a metallic finger that gleamed faintly in the light.

Aang’s grey eyes widened, and he gasped softly in awe, though his expression quickly turned into a frown as he couldn’t help but wonder how she had lost it.

“Did you make that?” He asked, his voice filled with curiosity and concern.

Jinx looked up, startled out of her thoughts. Her blue hair shifted slightly as she tilted her head, confused. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her brows furrowing.

Aang pointed at her hand. “Your finger.”

Jinx glanced at it, her expression darkening for a brief moment as the memory resurfaced—Caitlyn—the enforcer with her sniper rifle powered by a Hex Gem, and the bloody aftermath of that encounter before shaking off the memory,

She flexed her hand, the metallic finger responding fluidly as if it were part of her, shrugged, her tone casual, almost dismissive. “Yeah. My mechanical finger. I built it myself.”

Katara’s eyes widened, and she leaned forward slightly. “That’s…incredible,” she said, genuine admiration in her voice.

Sokka, who had been hunched over his plate in a grumpy morning haze, perked up at the mention of Jinx’s finger. “Wait, hold on,” he said, sitting up straight leaning close to see for himself. “You built that? How does it even work? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

Jinx shrugged again, tilting her head side to side as she tried to downplay it. “It’s nothing special,” she said nonchalantly, “Just a little tinkering and some scrap metal.”

“Nothing special? ” Sokka scoffed, incredulous. He gestured animatedly at her hand. “Most people lose a limb, and that’s it—they’re crippled forever! But you made something like that? That’s genius!”

Jinx raised a brow, unsure how to respond to his enthusiasm. “It’s not that big of a deal,” 

Sokka shook his head, his expression turning serious. “No, it is a big deal. You could help so many people who’ve lost limbs—give them a second chance. What you made is…it’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

Katara nodded in agreement. “He’s right. It’s not just impressive—it’s inspiring.”

Jinx’s lips pressed into a thin line, the praise making her uncomfortable. She wasn’t used to it—especially not this kind of admiration. “I didn’t make it to help anyone,” she said flatly, her voice tinged with bitterness. “I made it so I could keep going. That’s all.”

Sokka opened his mouth, then closed it again, his words on the tip of his tongue dying before it could leave. Instead, he studied her for a long moment—the way her shoulders stayed tense even while sitting, the way her pink eyes flickered anywhere but at them.

He didn’t push. Didn’t press for more, but as he went back to his plate, his mind stayed on the thought that maybe “keeping going” was harder for her than she’d ever admit. And something about the way she’d looked when she said it left an uneasy knot in his stomach.

That same knot twisted again when, faintly under the sound of clinking plates and Momo’s happy chittering, he thought he caught a tiny, rhythmic beep from somewhere near her bag.

Sokka glanced at Jinx again, but she was already focused on something else entirely, staring at the piece of bread like nothing was wrong.

He told himself it was nothing.
But the knot didn’t go away.

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words settling over the group, and before anyone could respond—Momo darted between Aang and Katara, swiping another cupcake from a nearby table and vanishing beneath it with a triumphant chitter. 

Aang forced out a laugh, breaking the tension. “Momo’s sure a fast one!”

Sokka took the distraction, shaking his head, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “That lemur’s got better reflexes than me.”

Jinx glanced at Momo’s hiding spot, a faint smirk playing on her lips as she watched the creature’s antics. Despite her nonchalant exterior, Jinx couldn’t shake the strange warmth she felt from their reactions.

They saw...value in something she had made that wasn't that very impressive to her—something that, in her world, was born out of necessity and pain. It was a feeling she wasn’t ready to confront, but it lingered all the same.

As the group continued to eat, Aang glanced over at Jinx, who was still sitting quietly on her mat, idly twirling her Hex Gem between her fingers, his cheerful demeanor softened as he noticed the untouched food in front of her.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Aang asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

Katara, ever the caretaker, added. “I noticed you didn’t eat anything at last night’s feast either.” Her brow furrowed, unable to shake the worry gnawing at her.

The three of them couldn’t help but keep noticing Jinx’s thin frame and her almost ghostly pale complexion. It was as though her striking blue hair and glowing pink eyes only emphasized how frail she appeared.

Jinx shot them an annoyed look and retorted. “Well, Sokka hasn’t eaten anything either, and I don’t see anyone haggling him about it.”

“Not hungry.” Sokka grumbled, mid-sip of his tea, raised a brow. "And second of all, I had three plates at the feast last night,” He said, setting the cup down with a clunk. “Pretty sure I’m still digesting half that.”

"But Sokka," Aang leaned back to look past Katara, peering at Sokka, his wide gray eyes filled with surprise. “You’re always hungry!” he exclaimed, genuinely shocked.

Katara couldn’t help but smirk at the exchange and glanced between Jinx and Aang. “He’s just upset because a bunch of girls kicked his butt yesterday,” she teased.

“They snuck up on me!” Sokka protested, sitting upright with an indignant glare. "Sneak attacks don’t count!” He huffed. 

“He’s really taking this whole ‘getting beat by girls’ thing personally,” She muttered, loud enough for only Aang and Katara to hear, earning chuckles from them. 

Sokka with a grumpy expression, grabbed a handful of pastries. “I’m not scared of any girls,” He muttered, stuffing a pastry into his mouth. “Who do they think they are anyway?” He grumbled, his words muffled by the food in his mouth as he grabbed more desserts.

Aang blinked, tilting his head in confusion. “What’s he so angry about? This place is amazing! They’re giving us the royal treatment!”

Katara frowned slightly, her tone cautious, “Hey, don’t get too comfortable. It’s risky for us to stay in one place for very long.”

"Couldn't agree more, we've overstated our welcome," Sokka leaned back, smirking faintly at Jinx. “You, on the other hand, at this rate, a stiff breeze might knock you over.” There was no real bite in his voice, but his eyes lingered on her just a second too long—long enough for the concern to peek through, even if he wasn’t saying it out loud.

A faint memory flickered at the back of Sokka's mind—the soft, rhythmic beeping he heard last night, now looking at her pale frame and untouched plate, that sound didn’t sit right with him. Not at all.

A dramatic smack of her lips, reached over to grab a piece of fruit from the table and took a bite. “There! Yall happy now?” She said, her tone laced with sarcasm as she munched on the fruit, her shoulders nudging up in mock resignation.

Aang, still not satisfied, handed Jinx a small bowl of nuts and another filled with fresh berries. “You need to eat more than just that,” he insisted, his concern unwavering.

Jinx raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Says the boy who’s eating an entire sugar rush buffet,” she teased, gesturing at the assortment of desserts piled high on his plate.

Sokka snorted, but his gaze lingered on her longer than the joke called for. That beeping sound from the night before flitted through his mind again—faint, steady, too deliberate to be random. He’d brushed it off then, half-asleep, but now…seeing her pale and frail despite her sharp tongue, it lodged in his chest like a pebble he couldn’t shake.

Momo’s small arms suddenly appeared from under the low table, scanning for more pastries to swipe as Aang, noticing his little friend, lowered a dessert toward Momo’s grasping paw.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” The boy replied reassuringly as Momo snatched the treat and darted away. “Besides,” Aang added, a grin spreading across his face, “Did you see how happy I’m making this town?”

Katara watched him with a small smile. “Well, it’s nice to see you excited about being the Avatar,” she said, her expression shifted into a slight frown of concern, “I just hope it doesn’t all go to your head.”

Aang waved her off with a confident grin. “Come on, you know me better than that. I’m just a simple monk,” he said lightly, his optimism shining through.

Jinx, who had been quietly chewing on the fruit she grabbed earlier, let out a small scoff at Aang’s words. “Simple monk or not, doesn’t really make much of a difference,” she said, her tone cutting but not overtly hostile as 

“You’re still just a kid.” She added simply.  

Aang blinked, her bluntness catching him off guard. “I—” he started.

Jinx raised a hand, cutting him off before he could respond.

“Don’t get me wrong, Baldy,” Leaning back on her palms. “I’m not saying you can’t do the whole ‘savior of the world’ thing or whatever, but you’re, what, nine?” She gestured vaguely in his direction.

"I'm twelve," Aang corrected, a small crease forming between his brows.

Sokka, still chewing a mouthful of pastry, snorted. “Wow, huge difference,” he said around the crumbs, brushing powdered sugar off his chin. 

Jinx stared at him for a beat, her glowing pink eyes catching the morning light in a way that made them almost too bright to look at. “Still a kid,” she said flatly, her voice steady, not cruel—just matter-of-fact, like she was pointing out the weather.

Katara shot Sokka a sharp look before turning to Jinx, her tone firm. “Aang’s handled more in the past few weeks than most people could in years. Age doesn’t change that.”

Sokka raised a brow, leaning back in his seat. “Doesn’t mean she’s wrong,” He muttered, though the edge in his voice was more wry than cruel.

Jinx's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she leaned back again, eyes drifting toward the open window. “You’re playing with responsibilities bigger than you even know.”

Aang frowned but didn’t interrupt, unsure whether to defend himself or prove her wrong.

'I wouldn't be surprised if this whole 'Avatar' thing does go to his head eventually. It’d probably be too much for anyone.'  For all her cynicism, there was a part of her that wanted to believe the kid could handle it—if only because the world didn’t seem to have any other options.

Katara’s voice cut into the silence, protective and sure. “Aang’s more than capable of handling it.”

Jinx didn’t look back, only gave a one-shoulder shrug. “We’ll see.” Her words came out soft, but they left a trace of weight in the air, popping another piece of fruit into her mouth. Enough to make Katara sit a little straighter and Sokka glance between them, his earlier thought about that strange beeping nagging him even more.

Katara stood off to the side, arms crossed tightly over her chest, watching Aang being swarmed by an ever-growing group of squealing fangirls, her blue eyes rolled in disapproval.

“Honestly,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. “Some Avatar he’s being right now.” Katara turned and walked away, her footsteps brisk as if to escape the absurdity. 

Meanwhile, in the background, Aang, cheeks bright red, darted left and right across the village bridge in a desperate attempt to evade his admirers. The girls screamed his name with unrelenting enthusiasm, chasing after him as if their lives depended on it.

In a chaotic blur, Aang zipped back across the bridge, narrowly avoiding their grasp, but the girls were persistent, their numbers inexplicably growing with each passing moment. On his next sprint across, Aang glanced over his shoulder and saw his escape routes blocked—fangirls were now closing in from both sides of the bridge.

He gulped, eyes wide in panic. With no other option, he jumped into the air, summoning an airball to hover above the bridge.

The fangirls below gasped and cheered, starry-eyed as they gazed up at him. “Wow, the Avatar!” one of them squealed.

Unfortunately for Aang, his airball began to shrink, the gusts of wind fading too quickly for comfort. “Uh-oh,” he murmured before the ball completely vanished beneath him. He plummeted into the crowd below, who eagerly caught him in a sea of hands and delighted giggles.

Aang stood nervously beside Koko, one of the local girls, with a serene waterfall cascading in the background. A painter sat in front of them, brush in hand, muttering to himself as he measured proportions with his brush.

“Hmmm…Painting the Avatar…that’s easy enough,” the painter said, lifting his canvas to begin his work.

Before he could get too far, another girl appeared, sliding into the frame to stand beside Aang. The painter lowered his canvas, blinking in mild surprise.

“Oh, there’s another one,” He said, adjusting his work.

No sooner had he started again than three more girls appeared, squeezing themselves into the frame next to Aang.

The painter let out a frustrated sigh, his brush pausing mid-air. “There’s more…” Determined to keep up, the painter raised his canvas once more and frantically sketched, his mutterings becoming increasingly irritable.

He looked up again and groaned in exasperation. Now there were sixteen girls crowding around Aang, each vying for space and attention.

The painter’s patience finally snapped. He set down his brush, stood up, and walked away silently, his face a mask of utter defeat. Behind him, the towering pile of girls collapsed under its own weight, resulting in a loud chorus of shrieks and laughter as they tumbled into a heap.

Aang poked his head out from the tangle of limbs, his expression somewhere between exhaustion and horror.

“Uh, a little help?” He called out weakly.

Katara, just smirked to herself. “Serves him right,” she muttered, shaking her head and she turned away to focus on more important matters.

Sokka stormed toward the small wooden house nestled between the trees, grumbling to himself as Jinx followed lazily a few steps behind, her expression one of pure boredom.

“I can’t believe I got beat up by a bunch of girls ,” Sokka muttered under his breath, his fists clenched as he stomped forward.

Jinx rolled her glowing pink eyes and snorted. “Yeah, you’ve really been living that ‘best warrior in the village’ dream, huh?” she quipped, her voice dripping with mockery.

Sokka ignored her and pushed the door open, peeking inside.

The rhythmic sound of fans cutting through the air filled the space as six Kyoshi Warriors practiced in perfect unison. Their movements were graceful yet precise, a stark contrast to Sokka’s clumsy combat style.

Sokka smirked smugly as he leaned against the doorframe.

From behind him, Jinx tilted her head, crossing her arms as she eyed his expression. “Uh-oh,” she drawled, “you’ve got that look.”

Sokka glanced back at her. “What look?”

“The ‘I’m-about-to-do-something-dumb-and-pretend-it’s-a-great-idea’ look,” She said, stepping up beside him and peering inside. Her gaze flicked over the Warriors, then back to him. “So…what are you up to now, Mr. Boomerang?”

Sokka’s smirk widened. “Training.”

Jinx raised a brow, unimpressed. “Training, or trying to save your ego?”

“Both,” he admitted without shame, straightening his shoulders before stepping into the room.

“This should be good,” Jinx muttered with a knowing shake of her head, already anticipating his next move.

“Sorry, ladies,” Sokka said in a condescending tone, his arms crossed in mock superiority as the Kyoshi Warriors paused their exercise, snapping their fans shut as they turned to face him with serious expressions.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your dance lesson,” Sokka continued, stretching his arms with exaggerated ease. “I was just looking for somewhere to get a little workout.”

Jinx, leaning casually against the doorway, snorted loudly. “Oh, here we go,” she said, smirking as she crossed her arms.

Suki stepped forward, her calm demeanor masking the amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Well, you’re in the right place,” she said evenly.

Sokka glanced at her as he stretched his arms over his head. “It’s all right,” he said dismissively, suppressing a chuckle. “Normally, I’d hold a grudge, but seeing as you’re a bunch of girls, I’ll make an exception.”

Suki’s lips twitched, but her composure didn’t break. “A bunch of girls, huh?” she said, tilting her head just enough to make the other Warriors exchange knowing glances.

Jinx cackled outright at his audacity, clutching the door frame for support. “Oh, Boomerang, this is gonna be good,” she laughed, her sharp tone making Sokka shoot her an irritated glare.

Suki’s lips curled into a sly smile. “I should hope so,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “A big, strong man like you? We wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“True,” Sokka said smugly, completely oblivious to the sarcasm. “But don’t feel bad. After all, I am the best warrior in my village.” Stepping into the center of the floor with the swagger of someone already rehearsing his victory speech.

“Wow!” Suki exclaimed, leaning closer to him with feigned admiration, “The best warrior in your whole village?” She turned to her fellow warriors with an exaggerated expression of awe. “Girls, did you hear that? Maybe he’d be kind enough to give us a little demonstration!”

Jinx grinned and finally strolled into the room, plopping herself onto the wooden floor with an eager expression. “Yeah, Boomerang, show us your moves!” Her voice practically dripping with wicked delight, her long blue braids fanned out around her as she leaned back on her elbows.

"O-Oh! Uh…well…I-I mean…” Sokka’s eyes widened slightly, glancing between Jinx and Suki, but his pride wouldn’t let him back down before straightening his posture. “If that’s what you want, I’d be happy to.”

He placed his hands on Suki’s shoulders, trying to move her back, but she didn’t budge an inch. “All right, you stand over there,” he said, gesturing vaguely, “Now, this may be a little tough, but try to block me.”

Suki remained perfectly still as Sokka crouched into a fighting stance and lunged at her with a punch. Without breaking a sweat, Suki deflected his attack with a single motion of her closed fan, sending Sokka stumbling back with a cry of pain.

“Aw! Heh…good,” Sokka said, rubbing his shoulder. “Of course, I was going easy on you.”

“Of course,” Suki replied with a knowing smile.

Jinx burst into laughter, clutching her stomach.  “Oh, this is so much better than I imagined!”

Gritting his teeth, Sokka shot Jinx another glare before mumbling under his breath, “Let’s see if you can—” He leaped forward, shouting, “—handle this!”

Suki effortlessly dodged his wild kick and pushed him off balance, sending him crashing onto his back with a loud thud.

Sokka scrambled to his feet, his temper flaring as his face flushed red. “That does it!” He shouted, charging at Suki with reckless abandon.

Suki sidestepped his attack with practiced ease, grabbing his arm and spinning him in a dizzying circle before switching directions. The world blurred around Sokka as he flailed helplessly, his expression growing more distressed with each rotation.

Finally, Suki stopped abruptly, causing Sokka to stumble forward. With one swift motion, she untied his belt and used it to bind his left hand to his right foot, leaving him hopping awkwardly on one leg before toppling face-first onto the floor.

Suki leaned down, a smirk playing on her lips. “Anything else you want to teach us?” she asked mockingly.

The other Kyoshi Warriors erupted into laughter, their voices ringing through the room.

Jinx, was rolling on the floor, clean tears streaming down her face as she struggled to catch her breath. “Boomerang!” She gasped between fits of laughter, “You’re a natural!”

Sokka groaned, his cheeks burning with humiliation, he buried his face in the wooden floor

Jinx forced herself upright, wiping the tears from her cheeks, still snickering. “All right, all right—shows over, before you embarrass yourself into an early grave.”

She strolled over Sokka’s sprawled form, the clink of her boots on the wood cutting through the Warriors’ laughter. Despite her deceptively thin frame, she crouched, hooked an arm around Sokka’s middle, and—with one startlingly effortless motion—hoisted him up over her shoulder  in one smooth motion like he weighed nothing at all.

Sokka let out a startled yelp, flailing. “Hey! Put me down!”

“Nope,” she replied without breaking stride toward the door, her braids swaying with each step. “You’ve already given them enough free entertainment for one day.”

"Jinx, seriously?! Put me down!" Sokka’s muffled protest came from somewhere near her back.

“Sure,” Jinx said, already heading for the door, “but only after I remove you from the scene of the crime. My ears can only take so much secondhand embarrassment.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the Kyoshi Warriors and Suki, flashing a lazy two-finger salute. “Thanks for the warm-up, ladies.”

Sokka groaned from her shoulder. “This is beyond humiliating.”

Jinx smirked. “Nah. This is me saving what’s left of your dignity…which, by the way, isn’t much.”

The room erupted into fresh laughter as she carried him outside, Sokka still slung over her shoulder like an oversized sack of rice, muttering threats he had no hope of carrying out. Her boots thudding against the porch boards before the door swung shut behind them.

Outside, the morning air was crisp, the faint tang of sea salt drifting in from the shore, the sunlight hit them in a warm wash as the birds chirping overhead like the world hadn’t just witnessed Sokka’s pride get trampled into the floorboards.

Jinx dropped Sokka unceremoniously onto the grass, dust puffing up around him as he groaned. “Careful!” He barked, scrambling upright.

“Oh, relax,” She drawled, crouching in front of him. “The fall didn’t hurt half as bad as your ego.” Inspecting the elaborate knot binding his left hand to his right foot.

Sokka sat stiffly, glaring at the dirt. “I can’t believe you didn’t even try to help me in there.” Refusing to meet her eyes as she tugged at the knot binding his left hand to his right foot.

“I did help,” Jinx said, tugging on the knot. “I rescued you from complete public annihilation.” She gave the cord a twist, smirking. “Though, honestly, the floor was handling you just fine on its own.”

Sokka’s jaw tightened. “You think this is funny?”

“I think it’s hilarious,” She corrected, yanking the last loop free, finally yanking the knot free. “Best warrior in the village, taken down by a fan club. You walked in there like the hero of the century, and walked out hog-tied like a prize turkey. What’s not to love?”

He rubbed at his wrists, cheeks flushing, the scowl on his face deepening. “You’re not even trying to make me feel better.”

“Wasn’t aware that was my job,” Jinx replied breezily, standing and brushing the grass from her knees, tilted her head at him, grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You look like you’re about three seconds away from pouting, Boomerang.”

Sokka’s glare sharpened. “I am not pouting!” His jaw tightened, cheeks flushing. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Someone has to,” She said with a shrug, tossing his belt into his lap.

Sokka snatched it up, glaring as he looped it back around his waist. “You don’t get it. They—”

“Yeah, yeah, they got the jump on you,” Jinx interrupted, hands sliding into her pockets as she took a step back. “Newsflash, Boomerang: so would a stiff breeze.”

That did it—Sokka's glare deepened, lips pressing into a thin line.

Jinx caught it, her smirk twitching into something halfway between amusement and restraint. “Tell you what—I’ll give you some space to cool off before I say something out of pocket that I’ll regret later.”

She spun on her heel, already heading down the path toward the village, Sokka muttered something under his breath, but she didn’t bother asking what.

“Gonna go check on Baldy,” Jinx called over her shoulder. “Make sure he hasn’t gotten himself eaten by a fish again or something.” Disappearing around the corner, leaving Sokka alone with his bruised ego and the faint sound of her amused chuckle trailing behind her.

Sokka watched her go muttering under his breath about Kyoshi Warriors, smart-mouthed Airbenders, and the world’s lack of justice.

The group stood before the towering statue of Avatar Kyoshi, the golden light of the afternoon sun casting dramatic shadows over the proud, stoic figure. Aang stood in the center, surrounded by his fangirls, while Jinx hung off to the side, arms crossed, radiating boredom as her twin braids swayed lightly in the breeze. One of the girls clutched a passed-out Momo in her arms like a prize.

“There she is, girls,” Aang said cheerfully, gesturing toward the statue, “Me in a past life.”

Jinx froze mid-yawn, her pink eyes widening in disbelief. “Wait. Hold on. What did you just say?” she blurted, her voice cutting through the chorus of fangirls’ collective awe as the girls barely seemed to register Jinx’s incredulity as they gazed up at the statue in admiration.

Koko, her eyes sparkling, added with a grin. “You were so pretty!”

Aang turned to her with a curious expression, then looked over the rest of the girls as though searching for a certain someone.

Jinx’s mind spun, unable to reconcile what she’d just heard, “Hold up—are you telling me you were her?” She jabbed a finger toward the statue, her voice dripping with skepticism. “Like, in a past life? You’re reincarnated? Like, actually?”

“Yup!” Aang replied brightly, clearly enjoying the attention. “Every Avatar is the same spirit reborn over and over again. So yeah, I used to be Kyoshi.”

Jinx blinked, her expression a chaotic mix of disbelief and mounting frustration. “So, let me get this straight. You’re saying you, you, were this warrior woman with a mountain-splitting fan and enough attitude to fill a continent? And now you’re…this?” She gestured vaguely at Aang, who stood there smiling, blissfully unbothered.

“Pretty much!” He said with a shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Jinx ran a hand against her braids, muttering to herself, “This place just keeps getting weirder.” Shaking her head, blinking rapidly needing more answers. 

Aang turned to Jinx with a curious smile, then glanced at the other girls, and looked back at Jinx clearly enjoying her attention.

Jinx, meanwhile, was struggling to believe what she’d just heard. “You're dead serious?” her voice dripping with skepticism. 

Aang nodded eagerly. “Every Avatar is the same spirit reborn. So yeah, I was Kyoshi, just like I was Roku after her, and Kuruk before her, and before him was Yangchen then so on, all the way back to the first Avatar.”

Jinx stared at him, her mind spinning. “You’re telling me you’ve been…what, hundreds of people?”

“Well, not hundreds—” Aang began, but Jinx interrupted.

“Thousands?”

“No!” Aang laughed, “It’s more like…well, uh...I’ve never counted, but it’s probably a lot. See, the Avatar is reborn every time the old Avatar dies. Each time, we’re born into a different nation, depending on the cycle—Water, Earth, Fire, Air.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. “You went from this seven-foot-tall warrior woman,” She gestured wildly at Kyoshi’s imposing figure, “And years later now you’re…this?” Her hand waved vaguely in Aang’s direction.

Aang shrugged, smiling. “Pretty much! I mean, Kyoshi was amazing—she saved this island and then that created the Kyoshi Warriors. She was really strong and brave, but each Avatar is different because we’re also shaped by the lives we live in each generation. I’m still me—Aang.”

Jinx folded her arms, narrowing her pink eyes at him. “You know all that knowledge about this Avatar thing rattling around in your bald head, and yet you act like…” She gestured at the gaggle of fangirls, one of whom was giggling and holding a flower she clearly intended to give for him.

Aang scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, it’s not like I just wake up knowing everything. I’m just a kid. Right now, I’m still learning.”

Jinx snorted. “Great. What happened to being a simple monk?”

Aang frowned at that and pondered. “The Avatar exists to bring balance to the world. That’s why we’re reborn: to keep the peace.”

Jinx stared at him, her expression unreadable. “Huh. Balance. Sure, sounds like a lot for a twelve-year-old kid."

“It is,” Aang admitted, his voice softening. “But I’ll do my best. That’s all I can do.”

For a moment, Jinx said nothing, crossed her arms tighter, glancing at Kyoshi’s statue, then back at Aang. “You’re weird, you know that?”

Aang grinned, “I get that a lot.” then looks around again, looking for someone in particular before he raised a finger to get everyone’s attention.

“Excuse me for a second, ladies,” He said, flashing a bright smile before stepping away, the fangirls immediately turned their attention to Jinx, who stiffened under their collective gaze.

“What?” She snapped, her voice laced with irritation.

One of the girls stepped forward shyly. “Aang said you’re an Airbender too!”

Jinx’s pink eyes narrowed as her sneer deepened. “Yeah? So what?”

“Can you show us?” another girl piped up eagerly.

Jinx’s stare hardened, and for a second, the faint glow in her eyes flickered like embers about to flare. “Oh, absolutely not.” She leaned forward just enough to make the girl step back. “I’m not your party trick. Ya want Airbending? Go bother the bald kid.”

“But Aang—”

“—is a performer,” Jinx cut in, her voice flat as stone. “I’m not here to make you clap or gasp. I don’t do tricks for strangers. You want to see bending, go buy yourself a circus ticket.”

The girls exchanged disappointed glances, their enthusiasm dampened as others exchanged awkward glances—deflating under Jinx’s withering glare.

“Anything else?” Jinx asked flatly, daring them to say another word as the fangirls fell silent,

Jinx crossed her arms, leaning against the base of Kyoshi’s statue. “What am I? A jester?” she huffed irritably. “This whole world is insane.”

Jinx wandered back toward the Kyoshi Warrior's Dojo, her boots crunching softly on the dirt path. She spotted Sokka slumped on the steps, chin buried in his hands, sulking, clearly still traumatized from the humiliation he’d endured earlier.

For a second, she considered walking past. But something in the way his shoulders sagged—like he was carrying the whole scene on a loop in his head—made her slow. With an exaggerated sigh, she trudged over and flopped down beside him  leaning back on her palms on the wooden steps.

They sat in silence, the rhythmic thwack of wooden fans from inside the dojo filling the space between them. Jinx stared up at the sky, seeing a Bluebird pass by as Sokka kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground, his frown etched deep.

“So…” She drawled eventually, “how’s the ego holding up, Boomerang?”

Sokka let out a groan and covered his face with his hands. “It’s shattered, okay? Completely destroyed. Those girls—they didn’t just beat me—they dismantled me. In public.”

“Yeah," Jinx smirked, tilting her head toward him. "It was hilarious.” She said without sympathy. 

He shot her a flat look. “Not helping.”

“Not trying to.” She gave him a sideways glance, smirk softening slightly. “But seriously, they’re warriors, Sokka. Good ones. And you walked in there like you were the king of the universe or something. What’d you think was gonna happen?”

“I don’t know!” He flopped onto his back with a groan. “I just…didn’t think I’d end up tied up like a sack of cabbages while everyone laughed.”

Jinx chuckled low in her throat. “Could’ve been worse.” She didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t ask. "But hey, look at it this way—at least now you know what not to do.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jinx tilted her head, faint smile. “Means maybe next time you won’t go in all puffed up like tough shit, trying to impress people. You’re not half bad, Boomerang, but you’re not invincible. Nobody is.”

He stared at her for a moment, her words sinking in. “You think I’m not half bad?”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head. I just mean you’ve got potential—when you’re not busy tripping over your own ego.”

Sokka managed a small smile at that. “Yeah, well…maybe you’re right. I guess I’ve got a lot to learn.”

“Don’t we all?” Jinx muttered, her voice quieter this time. They sat in silence again for a while, the tension easing between them.

“Thanks,” Sokka said eventually, his voice softer than usual.

Jinx glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “For what?”

“For sitting here. For, I don’t know…not making it worse.” He said. 

She snorted. “Don’t get used to it.”

He chuckled, and for the first time all day, the heaviness in his chest lifted just a little.

Jinx leaned back on her hands, tilting her head toward Sokka with a sly grin. “You know,” she began, her voice carrying just the right mix of mischief and challenge, “If you think you’ve got so much to learn, why not start now?”

Sokka frowned, his shoulders slumping further. “Start now? With what? You saw what happened in there. I’ll just make a fool of myself all over again.”

“Probably,” Jinx said bluntly, shrugging. “But hey, what’s the worst that could happen? They tie you up again? Big deal."

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Look, take it from someone who’s been kicked down more times than she can count—you either learn from it, or you stay flat on your face. Those are the only two options.”

Sokka Frowned, his blue eyes glanced at her. “You’re saying I should…train with them? The Kyoshi Warriors?”

Jinx nodded, her braids swaying slightly as she leaned forward. “Why not? They’re obviously better than you right now—”

“Gee, thanks,” Sokka muttered.

“—but that just means they’ve got stuff to teach you,” She continued, ignoring his interruption. “And you’ve got nothing to lose. Except maybe the rest of your dignity. But hey, that’s already circling the drain.”

Sokka gave her a flat look. “Great pep talk.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Jinx said, throwing her hands up in mock innocence. “You’ve got guts to go in there and spar with them even after they embarrassed you yesterday. That’s something, Boomerang. If you’re serious about being the best warrior in your village or whatever, then prove it. Learn from them.”

Sokka stared at her for a long moment, the gears in his head visibly turning.

"The worst part’s over.” She smirked faintly. “And yeah, I’d enjoy watching them kick your butt again, but…if you stick it out, you might come out sharper than you went in.”

Sokka stared at the dirt, jaw working. He hated to admit it, but she had a point. The Kyoshi Warriors were skilled—far more skilled than he had anticipated. And if he could swallow his pride long enough to learn from them, maybe he’d come out stronger for it.

“You think they’d even let me train with them?” He asked hesitantly, glancing at the Dojo.

Jinx smirked, nudging him with her elbow. “Only one way to find out, Boomerang. But if you chicken out, I’ll be sure to remind you every single day for the rest of this trip.”

Sokka groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if they make me wear one of those outfits, I’m blaming you.”

Her grin widened, pink eyes glowing with amusement. “Oh, I hope they do. You’d look adorable in a skirt.”

He groaned, but couldn’t help the small reluctant grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. With a deep breath, pushing himself to his feet, but there was a trace of resolve in his posture now.

“All right,” He said, trying to sound confident, “Let’s do this.”

Jinx gave him a mock salute as he headed toward the training house. “Go get ’em, Warrior Boy. I’ll be right here, right behind ya! Laughing if it all goes wrong.”

Sokka rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile as he opened the door. 'Maybe Jinx is right—this as good a time as any to start proving myself.'

Sokka stepped into the dojo, boots whispering against the polished wood. The air inside was heavy with focus—Kyoshi Warriors moved in perfect unison, fans snapping open with a crisp shhhk before slicing through the air—Suki stood at the front, her movements precise, every strike measured.

The moment they noticed him, the room froze. Eight pairs of eyes turned on him at once, sharp and assessing. Suki took one deliberate step forward, arms crossing, chin lifting in silent challenge.

Jinx slipped in behind him, leaning against the wall with the lazy posture of someone who’d much rather watch the drama than stop it. She blew a strand of hair out of her face, her braids swinging as her pink eyes swept the room, faint amusement glinting in them.

“Uh… hey, Suki,” Sokka started, rubbing the back of his neck. His fingers caught on his short wolf tail, fidgeting like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

Suki’s voice was cold and sharp. “Hoping for another dance lesson?”

He flinched. “No, I—uh… Let me explain.” The words stumbled out, his face pulling into a grimace.

Suki’s tone didn’t soften. “Spit it out! What do you want?” Her hostility was like a slap to Sokka’s pride.

From the back, Jinx arched a brow. 'Ouch.' Then, to her surprise, Sokka dropped to his knees in front of Suki, bowing his head low.

“I would be honored if you would teach me,” He said, and his voice—awkward as it was—carried something honest.

Suki arched an eyebrow, her arms still crossed. “Even if I’m a girl?”

Sokka hesitated for the barest beat before meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was…wrong.”

Suki continued to stare at him, her expression unreadable, they held each other’s stare with only the sound of a faint creak of the floor as one of the Warriors shifted their weight.

“We don’t normally teach outsiders,” Suki said at last, “let alone boys.”

“Please,” Sokka pleaded, bowing again. “Make an exception. I won’t let you down.”

From her spot by the wall, Jinx’s lips twitched—not quite a smile, not quite a smirk. She’d seen plenty of pride swallowed before, but rarely this cleanly.

Suki’s sternness thinned into a small smile. “All right,” she said, her tone friendlier now. “But you’ll have to follow all of our traditions.”

Sokka’s head snapped up, relief flashing in his eyes. “Of course!”

The corner of Suki’s mouth curved just a little more. “And I mean all of them.”

In the back, Jinx’s smirk bloomed. 'Oh, this is going to be glorious.'

Sokka stood in the middle of the dojo, now wrapped in the Kyoshi Warriors’ deep green silk, gold insignia gleaming at his chest. White face paint masked most of his expression, but the stiff way he tugged at the sleeves made his discomfort obvious.

From her place against the wall, Jinx’s smirk widened. “Not bad, Boomerang. Green suits you,” she said, her pink eyes glinting with the sort of satisfaction that only comes from being right.

Sokka shot her a glare. “Do I really have to wear this? It feels a little…” His words trailed off into a sigh. “…girly.”

Suki stepped forward, voice calm but firm. “It’s a warrior’s uniform. You should be proud.”

“The silk threads,” Suki continued, gesturing toward his sleeves, “symbolize the brave blood that flows through our veins. The gold insignia represents the honor of the warrior’s heart.”

Jinx tilted her head, studying the fabric more closely—the way the silk threads caught the light, the meticulous embroidery, the weight of the insignia. Back in Zaun, uniforms were a cage, symbols of oppression. These were nothing like that. This wasn’t clothing meant to control—it was meant to honor, to remember.

For once, Jinx’s smirk softened into something quieter, almost thoughtful. She couldn’t imagine an Enforcer’s uniform ever meaning something like that. The Kyoshi Warriors’ uniforms, in contrast, represented pride, community, and respect. To think that Avatar Kyoshi, Aang’s supposed past life, had left such a legacy on this island.

Sokka straightened, puffing his chest out just a little. “Bravery and honor,” he repeated, a flicker of pride sneaking into his voice.

Right then, Aang’s head popped into the doorway, grinning ear to ear. “Hey, Sokka!”

Sokka froze, dread settling into his posture.

“Nice dress!” Aang chirped before vanishing again with a cheeky laugh.

Sokka groaned. Suki chuckled. And from the back, Jinx let out a low laugh, pink eyes glittering. 

The dojo floor thudded in rhythm to the Kyoshi Warriors’ movements—sharp fan strikes, low sweeps, pivot, block, strike again. Their green silk swayed with each motion, steps perfectly in sync.

Suki stood at the front, commanding the tempo without a word, somewhere in the middle of the formation…Sokka was already two beats behind.

His fan snapped open with a clumsy thwack, the sound noticeably louder and more awkward than the crisp flicks from the others. He pivoted, foot catching on the hem of his skirt—nearly toppling into the warrior beside him.

From her perch on the low railing along the back wall, Jinx whistled low. “Strong start, Boomerang,” she called, voice dripping with amusement. “Real intimidating.”

“Shut it,” Sokka hissed under his breath, narrowly dodging a follow-up strike from his sparring partner.

“Eyes on me, Sokka,” Suki instructed, stepping into his path. She corrected the angle of his stance with a tap of her closed fan to his ankle. “Lower. Your center of gravity’s too high. You’ll get knocked off balance every time.”

Sokka adjusted, grimacing. “Like this?”

“Better,” Suki said, though her tone implied barely.

The next drill began—fan block, elbow strike, spin, sweep. Sokka managed the first two, then over-rotated on the spin, stumbling sideways, his fan clattered to the floor.

From the railing, Jinx made a long, exaggerated ooh sound. “Man down.”

He shot her a glare as he scooped up the fan. “You here to help or heckle?”

“Both,” she replied with a shrug.

Suki’s voice cut in before Sokka could retort. “Again. This time—don’t fight the movement. Flow with it.” She demonstrated, her strikes smooth but decisive, the spin ending in a stance so stable she could’ve been carved from stone.

Sokka took a breath, tried again. This time, the spin landed cleaner, his sweep connecting with his partner’s ankle just enough to make her shift her weight.

Jinx’s smirk crooked sideways. “Hey. Not terrible.”

That earned him a faint grin from Suki. “Progress,” she said, before signaling for the next drill.

Hours later, Sokka’s arms trembled from holding the fan, his calves burned from the endless stances, and sweat dripped into the white paint on his face. But somewhere between the teasing from the back wall and Suki’s quiet corrections, his footwork was sharper, his balance steadier.

When Suki finally called for a break, Sokka collapsed onto the steps outside, gulping air.

Jinx sauntered over, dropping a canteen in his lap. “See? Didn’t even fall on your face that time.”

He took a long drink, shooting her a side-eye. “Give it time.”

Jinx smirked. “I’m counting on it.”

While Sokka caught his breath on the steps, Jinx’s thoughts drifted elsewhere.

“Paper…writing utensils…maybe a notebook,” she murmured under her breath. Her voice was casual at first, but it dipped lower as her mind shifted. “Pow-Pow…or Zip…something…” Her tone soured, the words turning bitter.

Jinx still remembered the sting of being caught unarmed when the Kyoshi Warriors had ambushed them. If they’d been enemies, an actual threat, they all would’ve been done for.

'Fool me once, shame on you,' She thought grimly. 'Fool me twice? Shame on me.'

Suki, catching the way Jinx’s expression tightened, stepped closer. “If you need supplies, the village would be happy to help,” she offered, her tone warm but curious.

Sokka perked up immediately. “And you could check out the blacksmith’s workshop! You could probably build something awesome there.”

Suki glanced between them, her curiosity deepening. “You’re an inventor?”

Before Jinx could answer, Sokka jumped in, grinning. “Oh, she’s not just an inventor—she’s crazy smart. You should see her robot finger. It’s remarkable even if she's says otherwise.”

“A 'robot' finger?” Suki echoed, clearly intrigued.

Jinx rolled her eyes at Sokka’s enthusiasm but couldn’t stop the small smirk that tugged at her lips. “Yeah. I tinker. It’s…a thing I do.” She held up her hand, flexing the mechanical finger so the light caught on the steel joints. 

Suki’s smile was approving. “Sounds like you’ve got impressive skills. If there’s anything we can do to help, let us know.”

Jinx gave a short nod, a flicker of gratitude passing in her pink eyes. “Thanks,” she said simply, already mapping out blueprints in her head, she wasn’t going to make the same mistake a third time.

Suki lingered a moment longer, her gaze subtly taking in Jinx’s braids, the unnatural gleam in her eyes, the pale white skin that caught the light. “You know… an Airbender showing up here is already rare enough,” she said, voice measured. “But an Airbender with blue hair and…eyes like that? Forgive me, but that’s not something you see every day.”

Jinx’s smirk cooled into something flatter. “Yeah, I get that a lot,” she said, leaning back on her hands. “What, never seen someone with style before?”

Suki didn’t flinch at the deflection. “Style, maybe. But those eyes…they don’t just happen.”

From his spot on the steps, Sokka shifted, glancing between them. He’d heard that edge in Jinx’s voice before—half amusement, half warning.

Jinx stretched her legs out, boots scuffing the wood. “Long story,” she said at last. “Not one I feel like telling while we’re all supposed to be relaxing.”

Suki studied her for another beat, clearly filing the answer away, but didn’t push. “Fair enough,” she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Just know the island keeps an eye on strangers—especially the ones who stand out.”

Jinx’s grin returned, sharper this time. “Good. Makes it easier for me to spot who’s staring.”

Suki gave a short chuckle, shaking her head before heading back to the sparring floor.

Sokka waited until she was out of earshot before leaning toward Jinx. “She’s not wrong, you know. You do stand out.”

Jinx shrugged, watching Suki rejoin her warriors. “Then let ’em stare. Gives them something to talk about besides you in that skirt.”

Sokka groaned. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Not a chance, Boomerang,” she said, smirking as she pushed herself up from the wall, brushing imaginary dust from her pants. “All right, Boomerang, question for you—are you gonna be fine here on your own while I’m gone?”

The narrow streets of Kyoshi Village bustled with life as Jinx strolled through, her purple slung over one shoulder and the green bag gifted by the old lady resting over the other. The weight of the two bags together didn’t bother her much; she was used to carrying heavier loads back in Zaun. The hum of the village around her was a strange, peaceful contrast to the chaos she once called home.

Jinx’s pink eyes wandered over the market stalls filled with colorful wares, fresh produce, and handmade crafts.

The people here seemed…happy.

They laughed, bartered, and greeted one another warmly. It was the kind of community Jinx had never experienced before—a stark reminder of what she never truly had.

Jinx stopped at a small stall run by a cheerful middle-aged couple, their table laden with parchment and wooden writing utensils. The sight sparked an idea, and she hesitated briefly before approaching them.

“Hey,” Jinx started, her voice a bit rough. “Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have any notebooks, paper and writing stuff, would you?”

The woman’s face lit up as she nodded, quickly picking out three small notebooks and a handful of wooden writing utensils. She placed them on the counter in front of Jinx, who reached for her bag to grab…nothing.

“Aw, crap,” Jinx muttered, realization hitting her. She scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “I, uh…don’t have any money. Sorry for wasting your time.”

The man behind the counter chuckled. “No need to worry about that, dear,” he said warmly, “It’s free of charge.”

Jinx blinked, brows narrowing. “Wait…what? Why?” She half-expected them to name a price, or smirk like they’d just conned her. That’s how things worked in Zaun—you didn’t get anything for free unless you were already paying for it some other way.

The woman smiled. “You’re traveling with the Avatar. It’s the least we can do for someone helping him.”

Jinx stared at them, still baffled.

The woman added something else to the pile: a large, beautifully handmade bound sketchbook. “Here, take this too. A gift.”

Jinx hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Gifts weren’t exactly something she was used to receiving, especially without strings attached.

She carefully picked up the items, slipping them into her green bag. “Uh… thanks,” Jinx muttered, her voice softening. “This is…cool of you. Really.” 

The girl in blue turned to leave, a thought struck her, spun back around, her twin braids whipping behind her. “Hey, could you help me with something else? I’m looking for the blacksmith’s workshop. Know where it is?”

The couple exchanged a glance before the man gave her clear directions, pointing down the road and around the corner near the edge of the village.

Jinx grinned, raising a hand in a casual salute. “Got it. Thanks again!” She spun on her heel, her braids swaying with the motion as she marched off. Her heavy boots hit the dirt road with purpose, kicking up pebbles as she walked.

The sketchbook weighed lightly in her bag, but its presence felt oddly significant. For the first time in a while, Jinx felt a faint spark of something unfamiliar—a mixture of gratitude and hope.

“Alright, let’s see what this blacksmith has to offer,” She muttered to herself, her pace quickening as she followed the couple’s directions.

The dusty streets of Kyoshi Village echoed with the faint metallic clangs of work being done. Aang and Katara walked side by side, scanning the area for Jinx. Her habit of wandering off wasn’t exactly surprising, but they figured it’d be best to keep tabs on her.

“She couldn’t have gone far,” Katara said, shielding her eyes from the midday sun as she looked around.

“Yeah, but this is Jinx,” Aang replied with a small laugh, “She could’ve already built a glider and flown off by now.”

As they neared the blacksmith’s workshop, an unusual sight greeted them. A group of boys, all about their age or younger, huddled near the windows and doors, peeking inside with wide eyes. The muffled sounds of something strange filled the air—a loud, fast-paced noise that was half music, half screaming.

“What’s going on?” Aang asked, his brow furrowing.

Katara shrugged, but her curiosity was piqued. “Let’s find out.”

They approached the small crowd, who barely noticed their arrival, too entranced by whatever was happening inside. Aang tapped one boy on the shoulder, who jumped and quickly stepped aside to let them through.

Inside the workshop, the source of the commotion became immediately clear. Jinx stood at the center of the room, completely in her element. Blueprints were scattered across a large metal table as she worked with a laser focus.

Her twin braids swayed wildly behind her as she moved, her entire body bopping to the deafening beats blaring from a strange contraption perched nearby—a makeshift contraption she had named: Riot Blast 

The contraption looked like nothing anyone in this world had ever seen,  what was once a grenade Chomper, had been transformed into a speaker-like device, its tiny black disc within spinning rapidly to produce the music. 

Jinx had repaired it during their stay, and now it blasted out a chaotic mix of fast beats and screaming lyrics that made the walls vibrate.

Her voice joined the cacophony as she sang along, goggles on her face, her hands diligently tinkering with her latest project in recreating the: Zap Gun. It wasn’t complete yet, but the gleaming Hex Gem on the table nearby made it clear she was getting close.

Jinx’s entire being seemed alive, more alive than they’d ever seen her. She sang with an intensity that could only come from deep within, the words carrying both joy and a dark, painful truth:

“Sometimes I wanna end the pain and now it’s pain that guides the pistol, pistol guides the pain! Pint-size broad but I been a problem child! ” She spun her braids, bopped her head, and swayed her hips as she worked, the clinks of her tools syncing perfectly with the beat. Her Airbending flickered unconsciously around her, the wind swirling in tiny bursts with her movements.

Katara and Aang exchanged glances, utterly baffled by the scene before them.

“She’s… uh…” Aang started, unsure how to even begin describing it.

“In her element,” Katara finished, her tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.

“You better pray to God! Ha, ha, you better pray to God! Either you can hunt the prey or you get preyed upon! But if you end up in my way, you better pray to God! ” Her joy was infectious, but the raw pain in the lyrics hinted at the struggle that fueled her. As Jinx’s focus sharpened on her work, her expression shifted with the darker verses. 

Her pink eyes glowed with intensity as she sang; “I was the runt, but every dog got a day! Yeah, I was left behind, but now my own reflection’s someone I don’t recognize! ”

Her hands moved with precision as she adjusted a component on the Zap Gun, her voice hardened momentarily with the words: “ They had no empathy for me, why should I empathize? I got this demon on my back that I can’t exorcise! ”

The music filled the workshop, the alien sound drawing even more curious onlookers to the windows. The boys outside looked on with awe, clearly enamored by Jinx’s wild, bad-girl energy.

With one final twist of her tool, Jinx grinned in triumph. She lowered the volume on Riot Blast just as she glanced up and noticed her unexpected audience. Her pink eyes darted to the group of teen fanboys by the door and windows, who immediately ducked out of sight, some stumbling over each other in embarrassment. A few bolted, their faces red as tomatoes.

Jinx blinked, momentarily stunned, before a mischievous smirk crept onto her face. “Huh. Guess I’ve got fans now.” Behind her, the music from Riot Blast faded into the background, leaving Aang and Katara standing awkwardly by the door.

“Uh, Jinx?” Aang started, still trying to process everything he’d just seen.

Jinx turned to them, flipping up her goggles, wearing it just to feel the familiarity, and with a confident grin. “Oh, hey, Boy Savior, Katana! Didn’t see you there.”

Katara raised an eyebrow, “What is all this?”

Jinx gestured dramatically to the mess of blueprints, tools, and contraptions surrounding her. “Welcome to my little slice of chaos, baby! You like it?”

Aang opened his mouth to respond, but a quick glance at the dumbstruck boys peeking through the window made him pause.

He smiled awkwardly. “I mean…it’s definitely…unique.”

Jinx snorted, grabbing her Zap Gun and tossing it into her bag. “Yeah, well, you better get used to it, Little Hero-Man. This is just the beginning.”

The clamor inside the blacksmith workshop hit a crescendo as Jinx twisted the knob on her Riot Blast, cranking the volume to its peak. The chaotic melody spilled into every corner, mixing with her lively voice as she danced freely, the twin braids of her hair swaying and curling around her like they, too, were caught up in her rhythm.

“You better pray to God! Ha, ha, ha, you better pray to God!” She sang at the top of her lungs, her voice carefree and wild.

Aang stood frozen at the doorway, his expression a mix of nervousness and utter bewilderment. He had faced Firebenders, burdened with the colossal weight of responsibility being the Avatar—but none of that prepared him for the sight of Jinx fully rocking out in her chaotic element.

“Either you can hunt the prey or you get prayed upon!” Jinx belted, her hips moving fluidly with the beat, her pink eyes gleaming with life as her bangs and braids bounced with every motion. The air around her seemed alive, bending and swirling with her energy. Papers flew off the table, her movements commanding the winds as if they were an extension of her mood.

“Either you can hunt the prey or you get prayed upon! But if you end up in my way, you better pray to God! ” she sang, spinning the Zap Gun fluidly in her hand like it was second nature.

Katara leaned closer to Aang, her voice low. “What is she doing?”

“I have no idea,” Aang muttered back, wide eyes fixed on Jinx as she mockingly pointed the strange metal contraption in their direction.

For a brief moment, the gun hovered in the air aimed at Aang—but the playful glint in Jinx’s eye was clear. Whatever this “thing” was, it wasn’t operational yet. She spun on her heel, pulling her aim away and gesturing dramatically toward the sky, laughing as she kept dancing, her voice blending with the music.

The air whipped faster now, a steady swirl of motion that sent blueprints, tools, and small bits of paper flying in all directions. Aang instinctively raised his hands to steady himself, but he couldn’t look away from her. The pure, chaotic energy radiating off Jinx was unlike anything he’d ever seen.

And then she plucked the glowing blue Hex Gem from the table.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, you better, you better!” Jinx sang, holding the gem high like a prize. The light from the gem reflected off her goggles on her head and illuminated her face, the mischievous grin never leaving her lips.

In one smooth motion, she placed the gem into the Zap Gun. A faint hum filled the air as the weapon powered to life, its inner mechanisms whirring with bright blue sparks of energy. The loud music cut off abruptly as Riot Blast quieted, leaving only the low, pulsing glow of her Zap Gun.

Jinx let out a breathless laugh, gazing down at her handiwork. “Now that is a party!” she declared, her voice triumphant. 

Her eyes darted to the mess she’d made—the scattered blueprints, the tools rolling across the floor, the glowing contraption in her hand.

Jinx exhaled, grinning. “Ha-ha, oh, how I missed this!”

Aang and Katara exchanged bewildered glances.

“What…what is that thing?” Katara finally asked, pointing at the Zap Gun in Jinx’s hand.

Jinx twirled it casually, the glow of the Hex Gem casting a soft blue light within Zap. “This?” she said, smirking. “It’s my baby. My Zap. A little something to keep me company.”

Aang tilted his head, confused. “Zap? Like…is it…a weapon?”

“Weapon?” Katara’s tone grew cautious as her eyes narrowed.

Jinx chuckled, shaking her head. “Relax, Katana. It’s just…science, really.” She gave the gun another playful twirl, the gem inside sparking with energy. “And don’t worry, it’s only dangerous if you know what you’re doing. Which I do, obviously.”

The two stared at her, utterly perplexed.

“What’s with the looks?” Jinx said, raising an eyebrow. “What, you guys don’t have anything like this in your little world of flying bisons and elemental bending?”

“No,” Aang said flatly, still eyeing the Zap Gun with a mix of curiosity and concern. “We really don’t.”

Jinx gave a casual shrug, tossing Zap into her purple bag. “Well, guess you’ll just have to get used to it. You’re traveling with me tagging along now, Boy Savior.” She grabbed Riot Blast and tucked it under her arm, shooting the pair a devil-may-care grin as she rolled up her large blueprints along with a small rope trying it secretly. 

Katara crossed her arms, still unconvinced. “And what exactly are you planning to do with all…this?”

Jinx winked, stepping toward the door with a spring in her step. “Oh, don’t worry about me, Katana. I’m just getting started.”

Katara blinked, her brow furrowing, then it hit her. “Wait…did you call me Katana?”

Jinx turned her head slightly as she walked, a sly smirk playing on her lips. “Yeah. What about it?”

“It’s Katara,” Katara corrected, her tone sharp.

“Eh, close enough,” Jinx said with a shrug, her twin braids swinging behind her as she strutted ahead.

“Why do I even bother?” Katara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she exchanged a look with Aang. 

Aang chuckled nervously before speeding up to catch Jinx’s pace, Katara following close behind as they practically had to jog to keep up with her energetic strides.

“Hey, Jinx?” Aang called out, his curiosity bubbling over. “What was that thing that was…uh…talking? You know, the loud thing that was, um, screaming?”

Jinx turned her head slightly, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Oh, you mean Riot Blast?” She tapped the contraption tucked under her arm proudly. “That’s my new best friend! He plays my favorite music, from my favorite artists, for my ears to enjoy.”

Katara arched an eyebrow. “It…plays music?”

“Yup!” Jinx replied, her pink eyes sparkling with genuine joy. “Music from back home, too.”

Aang tilted his head, puzzled. “Wait, how do you have their voices in that thing? Are there people trapped inside of it?”

Jinx snorted, shaking her head. “Oh, boy, you really don’t have radios or anything where you’re from, huh? No, Baldy, it’s not like that. Riot Blast plays recorded music.”

Aang’s face was a blank slate. “…Recorded?”

Jinx stopped walking abruptly, turning on her heel to face them with an exaggerated groan. “Alright, alright. You guys are clearly clueless, so let me explain.” She pulled out a round, small, black disk from her bag and held it up for them to see.

“This,” she said, wagging the disk in front of them. “—is a music disk. Back in Zaun, people would sing or make music, and we’d record it onto these little guys. Then, we’d pop them into big or small record players at home to hear it again whenever we wanted.”

Aang and Katara’s eyes widened in unison, they leaned closer to inspect the disk in complete awe.

Katara asked, her tone laced with wonder. "Wait, so…you can hear someone singing even if they’re not there?”

“Exactly,” Jinx said, grinning as she flipped the disk between her fingers before tucking it back into her bag.

“That’s amazing,” Aang said, his voice tinged with awe. “How do you even do that?”

“Zaun tech, baby,” Jinx said, spinning on her heel to keep walking. “We’re clever like that.”

Katara glanced at Aang, still trying to process what they’d just learned. “It’s incredible,” she admitted, “—but…about that music we heard earlier. It was so…angry. And loud.”

“Yeah,” Aang added, scratching his head. “It didn’t sound like anything we’d ever sing. Why would someone make music like that?”

Jinx shrugged, shoving her hands in her pockets. “That’s just how we do it in Zaun. We pour our feelings into our music—anger, sadness, frustration, whatever we’re dealing with. It’s raw, it’s honest, and it helps people like me feel…seen.”

She glanced over her shoulder at them, her expression softening just a little. “And, honestly? That’s just the kind of music that speaks to me the most. Helps me stay grounded.”

With that, she shoved the disk deeper into her bag and continued walking, her twin braids swaying as she picked up her pace again. Aang and Katara exchanged another look, the weight of her words settling in their minds as they hurried to catch up with her once more.

As they walked, Katara couldn’t help but voice the question that had been nagging at her since Jinx’s explanation. “Why have we never heard of this kind of invention before? I mean, something like that could change the world.”

Jinx chuckled softly, glancing over her shoulder with a mischievous grin. “Probably because you’re living in the Stone Age, Katana.”

“It’s Katara,” Katara corrected again, crossing her arms. “And I’m serious. I’ve never seen anyone with anything remotely like what you have—not your clothes, your hair, or especially that…Riot Blast thing. Where exactly are you from?”

Jinx’s smirk faded slightly as she slowed her pace. “I already told you. I’m from Zaun. Let’s just say it’s…not around here. And if you haven’t heard of it, well, that’s probably for the best.”

Katara frowned, puzzled. “But if Zaun has inventions like that—technology that lets you record music and play it back—why wouldn’t we have heard of it? It could revolutionize how people communicate, how we share knowledge. It could change everything!”

Jinx shrugged, keeping her eyes forward. “Yeah, maybe it could. But where I come from, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Zaun’s tech isn’t just about cool gadgets and music—it’s about surviving. And trust me, the cost of living there is way higher than you’d wanna pay.”

Katara’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

Jinx stopped walking and turned to face them, her pink eyes glowing faintly with an edge of intensity. “I mean Zaun’s a place where people scrape by, choking on fumes and trying not to get crushed by the people up top. We don’t have the luxury of bending the elements to make our lives easier. So we build, we tinker, and we invent. That’s how we survive, but it comes with a price.”

Aang and Katara exchanged uneasy glances.

Katara furrowed her brow, clearly unsatisfied. “But…if Zaun...just how come no one’s ever heard of it? I mean, a place with inventions like that,” She gestured toward Riot Blast, “—should’ve made its mark on the Four Nations by now. Are you saying it’s hidden or something?”

Aang nodded in agreement, his curiosity piqued. “Yeah, it must be really far away. Is it on an island like Kyoshi? Or maybe somewhere deep in the Earth Kingdom?”

Jinx stopped in her tracks, turning slightly to glance back at them, a flicker of hesitation in her pink eyes. She crossed her arms, leaning on one foot as if debating what to say.

“Let’s just say Zaun isn’t exactly on the maps you’re familiar with,” Jinx said cryptically. “It’s…underground.”

“Underground?” Katara repeated, her tone skeptical.

Jinx nodded. “Yup. Deep beneath the surface. You could walk right over it and never know it’s there. That’s why you’ve never heard of it. People up here in the sunshine don’t pay much attention to what’s happening down below.”

Katara frowned, her confusion only growing. “But if it’s underground, how do people survive? What about sunlight? Fresh air? Water?”

Jinx snorted, her smirk widening. “We make do. We’ve got pipes for water, machines to keep the air flowing—well, most of the time—and as for sunlight? Who needs it when you’ve got neon lights?”

“Neon lights?” Aang asked, tilting his head.

“It’s…like...glowing...paint,” Jinx explained vaguely, realizing she couldn’t give a full explanation without sounding even more alien. “Bright, colorful, makes everything look alive. Trust me, it’s better than you think.”

Katara exchanged a glance with Aang, who looked equally perplexed but intrigued.

“So…Zaun is an underground city?” Aang asked, his voice filled with wonder. “I’ve never heard of anything like that before. It sounds amazing!”

Jinx laughed, though it was more bitter than amused. “Yeah, well, don’t get too excited, Baldy. Zaun’s not exactly a vacation spot. Let’s just say it’s not for the faint of heart.”

“But why would people live underground in the first place?” Katara pressed. “Wouldn’t it be better to live above ground, where it’s safer and easier to grow food?”

Jinx’s grin faltered, and for a moment, her eyes grew distant. “Sometimes...you don’t get to choose where you live. Sometimes, you just…end up there.”

The weight in her voice made both Aang and Katara pause, sensing that there was more to the story than Jinx was letting on, but before either of them could ask another question.

Jinx spun on her heel and started walking again, her twin braids swinging behind her. “Anyway,” she said, her tone lightening as she shoved her hands into her pockets. “—if you ever find yourself in Zaun, you’d better bring a gas mask and a thick skin. Oh, and maybe a bat. You never know what might try to eat you down there.”

As they followed Jinx through the village. Katara and Aang shared a look, their curiosity burning brighter than ever, and while Jinx’s answers only seemed to create more questions, one thing was clear: Jinx came from an underworld unlike anything they’d ever known from the surface.

Aang couldn’t shake her words from his mind. 'Underground? Neon lights? Machines for air? It all sounds so strange. Jinx talked about it like it was normal—her normal.'

Aang’s curiosity burned brighter than ever, but so did his concern.

Jinx’s bitter tone and cryptic remarks hinted at something deeper, something painful. He’d never heard anyone describe their home with such a mix of disdain and resignation.

Aang felt a pang of sadness for her. 'She doesn’t seem to love where she’s from. Or maybe she’s just hiding it.' 

But it wasn’t just her words that stuck with him—it was the way she said them. Her laughter had been sharp, almost defensive, and her distant gaze when she spoke about “ending up” in Zaun had made his chest tighten. 

Still, Aang couldn’t help but admire how alive she seemed when she was tinkering with her strange devices. The way her braids swayed as she walked, her quick wit, and her sharp humor—it all reminded him of the Airbenders, full of energy and motion. He wished he could find a way to connect with her, find the right words without having it push her away, or making her upset in any way.

Katara’s thoughts were far less forgiving. Jinx’s cryptic answers grated on her nerves, and her flippant attitude about Zaun didn’t help.

‘How could someone be so casual about a place that sounded so dangerous? Machines to breathe? No sunlight?’ Katara’s mind raced, imagining a cold, dark place filled with choking air and endless tunnels. It sounded awful, and Jinx’s dismissive tone only made her more frustrated. 

'Why wouldn’t she give a straight answer? What is she hiding?’ Katara wondered, her jaw tightening. It wasn’t just the mystery of Zaun that bothered her—it was Jinx herself. She was so different from anyone Katara had ever met, and her chaotic energy made it hard to tell.

“Sometimes, you just… end up there.”

The weight in her voice had been impossible to miss, and for a brief moment, Katara felt a flicker of empathy flooding through. ‘She didn’t choose to live in a place like that,’ 

But unease settled back in quickly. Mysteries were dangerous in times of war, especially when you traveled with them. Katara had been trying for days to get Jinx to eat, but Jinx barely touched her food, the shadows under her eyes kept deepening, and her thin frame moved like it carried more than just the weight of her bags.

It wasn’t only neglect; there was a hollowness in the way she carried herself, a quiet disregard for her own well-being that Katara didn’t like.

It scared her sometimes.

'I just hope she’s not hiding something that could hurt herself.' Katara thought grimly as she quickened her pace.

Aang’s heart raced with the possibility that crossed his mind. ‘Could it be true? Could there have been other Airbenders who survived the Fire Nation’s genocide? ’

The thought filled him with hope, but it also stirred a deep ache. ‘If Jinx’s family had fled to this “Zaun,” maybe there were others—hidden away, surviving in secret.’

‘It makes sense,’ He reasoned. ‘If they went underground, the Fire Nation might not have found them.’ The idea that Jinx’s parents might have been Airbenders, forced into hiding to protect themselves and their child, gripped his thoughts.

‘Perhaps they’d lived in fear of being discovered, unable to surface because the Fire Nation’s wrath would destroy them.’ Aang looked at Jinx ahead of him, her twin braids swinging with every step, her boots crunching the dirt with an unmistakable confidence. 

‘Jinx being an Airbender, her parents should’ve taught her,’ He thought. ‘She didn’t at all been someone raised in the peaceful, spiritual ways of the Air Nomads.’

Her wild energy, the chaos in her voice and movements, felt so different from the calm, harmonious life Aang had grown up with. And yet, there was something undeniably familiar in the way the air seemed to move with her, like it was an extension of her emotions.

‘She’s like me…but also not like me,’ Aang thought, his brow furrowing. He wanted to ask her more, to understand how someone like her could have come from with same air as him. His chest clenched at the idea, couldn’t bear the thought of another Airbender, another person like him, carrying the same pain of losing everyone they loved.

More than once.

‘I won’t let her feel that kind of loneliness.’ Still, there was so much he didn’t know, and Jinx wasn’t exactly forthcoming with answers. Aang resolved to keep asking, but gently. If she had lived a life of fear and hiding, pushing her too hard might only make her retreat further.

For now, he focused on to the hope. Maybe there are others out there. Maybe Jinx is proof that Airbenders didn’t vanish completely. It was a fragile hope, but one Aang clung to desperately.

Aang’s thoughts began to unravel further as he pieced together the puzzle that was Jinx.  When they first met, she hadn’t even known what an Avatar was, something so fundamental to their world to already know.

He frowned, remembering how she had looked at him blankly when he explained bending. Jinx didn’t seem to realize how remarkable her abilities were—or even that they were abilities at all. It was as though bending was as foreign to her as the Fire Nation was towards Appa.

Every Airbender was raised in the temples, taught to embrace their connection to the wind and the world. The Air Nomads lived and breathed their culture, their spirituality intertwined with their bending from the moment they were born.

Jinx, on the other hand, was so…disconnected. She wielded her powers unconsciously, almost recklessly, as if they were just a natural part of her chaos. Aang thought back to the workshop, how her bending had reacted to her joy, causing papers to swirl and air to pulse around her. It was instinctive, but uncontrolled—wild and raw, like a storm instead of a breeze.

‘I'll her what it means to be an Airbender.' He thought, determination welling up in his chest.' A flicker of hope—not just for Jinx, but for himself too. She wasn’t just another Airbender; she was proof that their people’s legacy could survive, even in the unlikeliest of places.

They were almost back to their temporary lodging when the stillness split like glass—
a shrill cry rang out, sharp enough to cut the air.

“The Fire Nation troops are here!”

Aang’s stomach dropped. In the distance, black smoke unfurled into the sky, its acrid scent already carried on the wind. Villagers poured into the streets, clutching children, dragging carts, abandoning homes. The sound of panic filled every corner—boots pounding on dirt, shutters slamming shut, voices breaking with fear.

Beside him, Jinx’s glowing pink eyes narrowed. Her fingers curled tighter around the trigger of her strange weapon, the faint hum of it barely audible over the chaos. Aang caught himself staring—her stance was coiled, dangerous, a live wire ready to snap.

It wasn’t the stance of someone preparing to defend.

It was the stance of someone preparing to end a fight.

Sokka’s voice jolted him back. He and Suki sprinted up the road, urgency in every line of their faces.

“Let’s not stick around!” Sokka barked. “Time to hit the road!”

Before they could move, three Firebenders burst from the smoke, flame already spilling from their palms. Jinx’s grip shifted instinctively—but the attackers didn’t make it more than three steps before a blur of green and gold dropped from the trees.

The Kyoshi Warriors hit like a storm. Steel fans snapping, dodging aside fireblasts, catching wrists, sweeping legs. In matter of seconds, the Firebenders were disarmed and on the ground, the Warriors’ fans closing with a clean metallic snap.

Jinx blinked, visibly impressed. “Well,” she muttered, lowering her weapon a fraction, “that’s one way to do it.”

Katara’s voice cut sharp through the moment. “If there are Firebenders here, then Zuko must be close!”

Jinx’s eyes flicked to her. “Who’s Zuko?” The question came out clipped, suspicious.

“Long story short—Fire Nation prince, obsessed with capturing the Avatar,” Sokka said quickly. “If he’s here, he’s after Aang. And if we stay, this island burns with us.”

Aang’s heart twisted as he looked at Suki and her warriors, their faces set like stone. “I don’t want to leave you to face them alone,” he said quietly. “This is my fault.”

Suki stepped forward, eyes unwavering. “Go. We’ll hold them off. Protecting the Avatar matters more than anything. Our world depends on you.”

Sokka swallowed hard. “Guess training’s over, huh?”

“There’s no time to say goodbye,” Suki replied, a faint shadow of sadness behind her voice.

“What about, ‘I’m sorry?’” Sokka said, his tone breaking a little.

“For what?” she asked, surprised. "You already apologized."

He met her gaze, guilt written clear. “For treating you like a girl when I should’ve treated you like a warrior.”

“I am a warrior,” she said, stepping close—and then, with the faintest smile, she kissed his cheek. “But I’m a girl too.”

Sokka’s face went crimson as she pulled back.

“We’ll see each other again,” Suki promised, before turning toward the fight.

Jinx stood a few paces back, weapon still ready. Her pink eyes moved between Suki, the warriors forming a defensive line, and Team Avatar. Every muscle in her body screamed to stay. Fight. She could kill the soldiers before they got within ten steps of the village—but the look in Suki’s eyes, and the way Sokka was already urging Aang and Katara forward, made it clear: this wasn’t her choice to make.

Her grip on the trigger tightened until her knuckles ached. She could almost see it—the blast, the screaming, the smell of smoke and blood. The old part of her, the one that had survived too much, snarled at her to act now.

But Suki’s steady gaze wasn’t asking for help. It was ordering them to go.
And Jinx knew what it was to ignore someone’s last stand—and live to regret it...she already lives in that regret.

Feeling a touch against her arm, snapping her into attention.

“Come on,” Aang said, voice tight. “We have to go.”

The others turned to run. Jinx hesitated a heartbeat longer, her pulse thundering in her ears. Then she forced her finger off the trigger and fell in behind them, her braids whipping around her shoulders as they sprinted away.

Boots pounding dirt, breath ragged. Behind them, the clang of steel and the roar of fire grew louder. Jinx slowed down, hesitated at the edge of the village, casting one last glance over her shoulder.

The Kyoshi Warriors were holding the line, green and gold against a tide of red and black in a distance. Her fingers twitched once on the trigger—then she turned and followed, the image burning itself into her mind like a brand.

Jinx didn’t look back again—but she knew she’d see this moment in her head tonight, over and over.

The forest broke into open shoreline, and Appa loomed ahead like a wall of fur and muscle, shifting restlessly as the battle roared in the distance. His deep bellow rolled over the water, his massive form looming like a protective guardian. He let out another low, anxious bellow, his six legs shifting restlessly in response to the chaos.

“There’s Appa!” Sokka shouted, waving them on.

“Good boy! “We’re coming, buddy!” Aang called, already sprinting harder.

Jinx was right behind them, braids whipping in the wind. Her Zip in hand, the weight comforting, the trigger warm against her finger. She didn’t slow until they reached the saddle.

“Let’s move! No time for sightseeing!” Sokka vaulted up first, dragging Katara as her hand brushing Appa’s fur in passing, climbing onto the saddle.

Jinx paused for only a second, not getting on until the others were on the saddle. Her vison flickering, her sense of reality warping just long enough for the sound of steel and fire to stab at her spine. She didn’t need to look; she could see it in her head.

The moment before a body drops. The smoke that chokes a scream. The screams, thundering boots, the clash of Kyoshi Warriors against Fire Nation soldiers replaced with something else entirely—it all echoed in her ears.

Jinx's hand gripped and pulled the loose strands of her blue hair hard, shaking her head, squeezing her eyes shut trying to block it all out before it gets progressively worse. 

'Not now. Please. Not here'

Sokka, twisted back he realized Jinx wasn’t on the saddle yet, his eyes narrowing, looking down below the shore—there she was. Still standing in the sand, shoulders rigid, fingers buried in her hair, her weapon still in hand.   

“Jinx!” He barked, the urgency in his voice sharper now. "C’mon! What’re you waiting for?!” Her head snapped up, eyes glowing faintly in the sunlight, and for the briefest second he thought she might not move at all.

Her gaze was distant—for a split second before Jinx shoved her weapon back into her bag and climbed in. Sokka immediately reach out a hand pulling her aboard.

“Go!” Jinx snapped, sharper than she meant to as she settled near the back of the saddle, gripping its edge tightly.

Aang didn’t hesitate. “Yip-yip!”

Appa’s massive frame surged upward, wind roaring past. Jinx didn’t flinch this time, though her glowing eyes narrowed against the wind as she glanced back at the island. The sight of the battle below made her jaw tighten, her firm grip on the saddle, but her mind was anything but steady.

Below, the island shrank, its rooftops already flickering with orange flame.

Aang’s chest tightened. “They’ll be okay, right?”

“They can handle it,” Sokka said, but his jaw was tight, his eyes locked on a small green figure still fighting in the square. “They’ve been training for this their whole lives.”

Katara’s hand settled on Aang’s shoulder. “They know what they’re doing.”

Aang didn’t respond, simply looked ahead, his heart heavy.

The group lapsed into silence, the distant battle fading behind them, Appa carried them higher into the sky, giving them a full view of the village. 

Fire Nation troops swarmed the village, flames licking at the rooftops of homes and trees alike. What had once been a peaceful haven was now engulfed in smoke and destruction. The Kyoshi statue burned like a torch, the flames licking up its proud face as wind whistled around them, but no one spoke. 

The boy turned back, his gasp broke through the silence, his gaze landed on the center of the square—the towering Avatar Kyoshi statue that had proudly stood as a symbol of strength and history just this morning... and now, it was engulfed in flames, the orange glow consuming its proud form.

“No!” Aang cried, his voice trembling with a mix of sorrow and fury. “Why are they do this?” He clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. 

Katara reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Aang…” She began softly but couldn’t find the right words. Her own eyes glistened with unshed tears as she stared at the devastation.

“They’re monsters,” Sokka growled, his tone low and bitter. His grip on the fans tightened. His jaw clenching as he forced himself to look away, “We’ll stop them. Someday, we’ll stop all of them.”

From the back, Jinx’s voice cut in, low, flat, her voice devoid of emotion. “Statues can be rebuilt. Homes too. People can’t.” She didn’t turn to look, glowing pink eyes remained focused ahead, though her fingers twitched against the edge of the saddle. 

Aang shook his head, his tears streaming freely down his face. “Kyoshi protected them for so long. She gave them her strength. They didn’t deserve this.”

“No one does,” Katara said softly, pulling Aang into a gentle hug. He froze at her words, his tear-filled eyes, and for a moment, no one spoke.

Then, he nodded slowly, determination beginning to harden his expression pulling back from Katara. “I’ll stop this." He said, his voice quiet but resolute. “I’ll stop all of it.”

Aang, faced forward again, the burning island behind them. The weight of the Fire Nation’s destruction pressed heavily on them all, but in that moment, Aang’s resolve only grew stronger.

Suddenly he stood up in Appa’s saddle, determination flashing in his tear-streaked eyes. Before anyone could stop him, Aang leapt off Appa, plunging headfirst toward the ocean below.

“Aang!” Katara screamed, her voice breaking with panic.

“What is he doing?!” Sokka shouted, scrambling to peer over the edge of the saddle.

Jinx leaned over too, her glowing pink eyes wide with disbelief as Momo scampered to the edge, chittering anxiously between Katara and Jinx.

Down below, the ocean surface rippled, then bubbled violently. The group held their breath as the water churned, and then—the massive form of the Unagi burst from the depths, water cascading off its sleek body. Aang stood on its head, gripping the creature’s whiskers tightly. The Unagi reared back, swaying dangerously as the young Avatar steadied himself with the grace of an Airbender.

“What in the spirits’ name—” Sokka began, but his voice faltered as Aang tugged on the Unagi’s barbels.

The great beast opened its massive jaws, unleashing a torrential spray of water as the torrent rained down over Kyoshi Island, drenching the burning homes and extinguishing the flames.

On the ground, the Fire Nation troops were caught in the downpour. Zuko, astride his rhino, scowled furiously, his wet hair plastered to his face as his men looked around in stunned disbelief.

Above, Aang guided the Unagi, ensuring the water reached every corner of the village as the fires hissed and sputtered out, leaving only drenched buildings and smoldering smoke behind. When the last flame was extinguished, the Unagi let out a low rumble and launched Aang into the air. He soared upward, spinning through the sky with effortless agility until Appa swooped in to catch him.

Katara pulled him into a tight hug as soon as he landed in the saddle. “Aang! What were you thinking? You scared us!”

Sokka scowled, more from relief than anger. “Yeah, maybe warn us next time you decide to wrangle a giant sea monster.”

Jinx, leaning against the saddle rim, smirked faintly. “Well, color me impressed, Boy Savior. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Aang, still catching his breath, glanced back at the island, seeing the villagers of Kyoshi were cheering, their cries of gratitude and joy echoing across the water and he smiled softly, the weight of his earlier sorrow easing just a little.

“I couldn’t just leave them like that,” He said quietly. “Kyoshi would’ve wanted me to help.”

Katara squeezed his shoulder. “And you did.”

They turned forward again, the sky wide and clear ahead—leaving behind a drenched island and the promise of a fight yet to come.

The sky deepened into a blanket of velvety blue as night fell. Appa glided silently through the air, his massive body cutting through the cool breeze as the stars began to twinkle above. The vast expanse of sky was adorned with a brilliant full moon, its silvery light casting a serene glow over the world below.

The group sat in Appa’s saddle, exhaustion finally settling in after the chaos of the day. Katara leaned against the saddle wall, her eyes drawn upward to the endless stars. The soft rustle of wind and Appa’s steady breathing provided a soothing backdrop to the quiet of the night.

Aang sat cross-legged near Appa’s head, his glider resting beside him. He gazed at the moon in quiet contemplation, the events of Kyoshi Island replaying in his mind. Despite the triumph of saving the village, guilt still weighed on him for bringing the Fire Nation to their peaceful home.

Katara broke the silence, her voice soft, “We’re lucky to have the moon tonight. It feels…peaceful, after everything.”

Jinx, who sat farther back in the saddle, fidgeting with her braided hair, glanced up at the moon. Her glowing pink eyes reflected the celestial light, giving them an almost ethereal sheen, “Peaceful, huh? Feels more like the calm after a storm if you ask me.”

Sokka lay sprawled on his back, one arm draped over his face, “Can we all just agree to no more giant sea monsters or crazy battles for at least a week? My nerves can’t take it.”

Jinx smirked faintly at his complaint but didn’t answer, rolling one of her braids between her fingers, her gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the saddle.

Sokka lowered his arm just enough to glance her way. In the dim moonlight, he caught the faint twitch in her hand and the way her shoulders hunched ever so slightly—same as earlier, right before she’d gotten on Appa.

He didn’t say anything, but the memory of her frozen on the shore lingered in his mind. Whatever had been in her head then…it hadn’t gone away.

With a quiet exhale, he let his arm fall back over his face, but his eyes stayed open, watching her for a moment longer before looking away.

Katara's gaze lingered on Aang. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers traced absent patterns on the saddle.

“You okay, Aang?” she asked gently.

He hesitated, his gray eyes reflecting the moonlight. “I was just thinking…about the villagers, about Kyoshi. I wanted to help, but…I-I also brought the Fire Nation there. Maybe if I hadn’t—”

“Stop that,” Katara interrupted firmly, moving closer to him. “What happened wasn’t your fault, Aang. You saved them. That’s what matters.”

Aang nodded, though the weight in his chest didn’t fully lift. He glanced over his shoulder at Jinx, who was unusually quiet. “What about you? You didn’t seem scared back there,” He asked. 

Jinx smirked faintly, her gaze fixed on the night's horizon. “Scared? Nah. That was like another normal day in Zaun. But…I gotta admit, watching you ride that giant eel thing? Kinda badass, Little Hero-Man.”

Sokka, lying nearby, shifted just enough to look at her. His eyes narrowed, not in annoyance but in that same way he had on the shore—remembering how she’d frozen before boarding Appa. The smirk she wore now didn’t quite hide the flicker he’d caught back then. He said nothing, but the thought lodged itself deeper.

“Little Hero-Man?” He said instead, his voice carrying a wry edge. “That’s a new one.”

“Get used to it, Boomerang Boy,” Jinx shot back, her tone teasing.

Appa let out a low, rumbling growl, as if to join the conversation, and Momo chirped sleepily from Katara’s lap as the group settled into a companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The moon continued to guide them northward, its light casting a tranquil path across the night sky.

Jinx leaned her head back against the saddle rim, her fingers idly tracing the cool surface of her Hex Gem she pulled out of Zap. She glanced up at the stars, a flicker of something unspoken in her eyes.

“Beautiful night,” Jinx muttered, almost to herself.

Katara smiled softly, her gaze following Jinx’s.

“Yeah, it is.”

The stars above bearing silent witness to their journey, the full moon their steadfast companion in the vast, endless sky.

The peaceful atmosphere wrapped around the group like a comforting blanket, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten.

Sokka, leaning lazily against the saddle’s rim, suddenly straightened as a thought struck him like lightning. His eyes flicked to Jinx, who sat a little apart from the rest of them, her glowing pink eyes faintly reflecting the moonlight as she absently rolled the blue Hex Gem between her fingers.

“Wait a minute!” Sokka exclaimed, pointing at her with newfound energy, “You! You spent hours in that blacksmith’s workshop back on Kyoshi Island. What did you make?”

Jinx blinked, startled by the abrupt question. She stopped fiddling with the Hex Gem and raised a suspicious eyebrow, “What’s it to you, Mr. Boomerang?” she shot back, her tone playful but with a hint of defensiveness.

“I mean, you weren’t exactly hammering shoes in there." Sokka ignored her nickname, too curious to be deterred, sat up fully, craning his neck to get a better look at the odd device sticking out of her bag. "Come on, what is it? Some sort of secret weapon? Something that goes boom? It’s gotta be something!”

Jinx let out a laugh, shaking her head, “Boom? What kind of mad genius do you think I am?” Her smirk faltered slightly, and she clutched the bag closer to her chest, a shadow of unease flickering across her face.

“What’s that thing in your bag? The one you made back on Kyoshi Island?” Sokka asked. 

Jinx looked up sharply, her glowing pink eyes narrowing slightly. Her fingers paused mid-roll as she glanced at the device Sokka was pointing to.

“What thing?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

“That thing,” Sokka repeated, pointing more insistently. “The weird metal thing with all the parts sticking out. Don’t play dumb—I know you made it in the blacksmith’s workshop. What is it?”

Jinx hesitated, clutching the Hex Gem a little tighter. Her first instinct was to brush him off, to tell him it was none of his business. But as she looked at Sokka’s curious expression and noticed Katara and Aang also watching her expectantly, she felt a flicker of something she couldn’t quite place. Trust? Guilt? Maybe both.

Jinx’s mind wandered as she considered her response.‘This world doesn’t have guns ,’ she realized, her thoughts dawning on her with renewed clarity.

‘No grenades, no snipers, no rocket launchers, No Hextech. Not even the toxic smog Caitlyn weaponized against us after… ’ Jinx shook the thought away and sighed. If they were all traveling together, maybe they needed to know. Hesitantly, she reached into her bag and pulled out the metallic device.

“This,” she said, holding it up for them to see, “—is Zap. My gun.”

“Gun?” Katara asked, her brow furrowing, “What’s a gun?”

Sokka leaned in closer, inspecting the device with fascination and skepticism. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me that THIS is a weapon? It doesn’t look like much. What does it do?”

Jinx gave him a sharp look, bristling at his doubt, “Don’t underestimate it, Boomerang Boy. A gun isn’t just any weapon—it’s powerful. Lethal. Back in Zaun, where I’m from, everyone made weapons like this. Guns were as common as knives. My Zap here? She’s no joke.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances as Jinx continued, holding the gun up by its grip, “A gun fires projectiles—bullets—at incredible speeds. It’s not like a sword or a spear where you have to get close to someone. With a gun, you can take someone out from a distance. It’s fast, deadly, and…well, let’s just say it doesn’t take much skill to cause a lot of damage.”

Aang’s eyes widened, and he looked genuinely disturbed,“That sounds…awful,” he said softly.

Jinx smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes, “Yeah, it is. And Zaun? We were full of them. Guns, bombs, grenades—everyone in the underground made their own weapons. It’s just how things were. You either made something to protect yourself, or someone else used theirs against you.”

Jinx held up the glowing blue gem in her other hand. “But this? This is what makes my Zap special .”

“What is it?” Katara asked, her gaze fixed on the gem.

“This,” Jinx said, her voice dropping slightly. “—is a Hex Gem. It’s…complicated. Back in Zaun, there used to be these mages—people who were the only ones that could harness the Arcane. Magic, basically. But they were hunted down and wiped out because everyone was terrified of what they could do. A long time after that, some guy figured out how to use what was left of the Arcane to power machines. He called it Hextech.”

A heavy silence followed her words.

“Mages?” Katara asked slowly, her eyes wide. “You mean people who could use magic? Like bending?”

Jinx shook her head, smirking faintly. “Not like bending. The Arcane was…different. Bigger. It wasn’t tied to just one element or one person’s skills. It was raw power, and the people who could control it? They didn’t just bend it—they shaped it, tore it apart, created new things with it. They were walking, talking powerhouses. And, well…you can probably guess how that went.”

“They were wiped out,” Sokka said, his voice quiet for once.

Jinx nodded, the smirk fading from her face. “Yeah. Out of fear. People thought they’d destroy the world if they were left unchecked. So they hunted them down. Killed them. Took what little remained of their power and locked it away. Hex Gems like this one are pretty much all that’s left of the Arcane now.”

Aang’s expression grew somber as he stared at the glowing gem in her hand. “That’s…horrible,” he said softly. “They were an entire people, and they were just…wiped out? All because they were different?”

Jinx raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah. Sound familiar?”

Aang flinched, her words hitting a little too close to home. He glanced at Katara and Sokka, who both looked equally disturbed.

“So…this Arcane stuff,” Sokka said, breaking the tense silence. “It’s not bending, but it’s powerful enough to scare entire nations into wiping it out? That’s insane.”

Katara nodded, her brow furrowed. “And they turned that power into…weapons? Like that?” She gestured toward the Hex Gem in Jinx’s hand, her voice laced with unease. 

“Not just weapons,” Jinx corrected, holding up the gem to let its light catch on the edges of her gun. “Tools. Machines. A whole new way of life. The guy who invented Hextech wanted to use it to make things better—bridges that built themselves, machines that could help people. But, of course, humans being humans, it didn’t take long for people to weaponize it. Pretty soon, Hextech wasn’t just a tool—it was the most powerful thing anyone could get their hands on. And everyone wanted it.”

Aang frowned deeply, his hands gripping his knees. “It sounds like the Fire Nation,” he said quietly. “They take something powerful—like bending—and use it to hurt people. To control them.”

“Pretty much,” Jinx said, her voice flat.

“But…why would anyone do that?” Katara asked, her voice trembling slightly. “If they could’ve used the Arcane to help people, to make things better—why would they choose violence and destruction instead?”

Jinx let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and humorless, “Because that’s just what people do. Give them power, and they’ll find a way to use it to screw each other over. The guy who invented Hextech wanted to make the world a better place, sure. But everyone else? They just saw a shiny new toy to blow each other up with.”

Sokka frowned, his arms crossed. “That’s…really messed up.”

“Welcome to the real world, Boomerang Boy,” Jinx said dryly, flipping the Hex Gem in her hand.

Aang looked at her, his expression conflicted. “Do you think the mages…the people who used the Arcane…did they deserve what happened to them?”

Jinx paused, the question catching her off guard, glancing at the Hex Gem in her hand, its glow reflecting faintly in her pink eyes.

“I don’t know,” She admitted. “I mean, I didn’t know any of them. They were gone long before I was born. But from what I’ve read…they were just people. Some of them probably did bad things, but others? They just wanted to live. To exist. And they weren’t given a choice.”

“That’s awful,” Katara murmured, her voice heavy with sorrow.

Aang looked down at his hands, the weight of Jinx’s story settling over him. He couldn’t help but think of the Air Nomads, of how they were wiped out for similar reasons—because they were seen as a threat.

The parallels were unsettling, and his heart ached for the people Jinx had described people who had been erased from existence because of fear and hatred.

“It’s not fair,” Aang said quietly. “No one should have to go through that. Not the mages. Not the Air Nomads. Not anyone.”

Jinx’s expression softened slightly as she looked at him. “No,” she said, her voice quieter now, “It’s not.”

The group fell silent again, the glow of the Hex Gem casting faint shadows in the moonlit sky. The weight of Jinx’s words lingered in the air, leaving them all with much to think about.

Jinx twirled the gem between her fingers, watching it glint ominously in the moonlight. “Hex Gems like this one are rare. They’re powerful enough to fuel inventions that can change everything—or destroy everything. This little beauty? I stole it. From the very man who invented Hextech, no less.”

“You stole it?” Sokka blurted out, his jaw dropping.

Jinx shrugged nonchalantly. “Relax, the guy had plenty to spare. I just took one. And his notes. I needed them for my own projects.”

She glanced down at the gem, her expression softening slightly. “But yeah, this thing’s no joke. It powers Zap, making her more than just a regular gun. And for something so small, this Hex Gem…the Arcane…so…pretty...it’s kind of insane how dangerous it can be.”

The group fell silent as they processed her words.

Aang stared at the Hex Gem, his face a mix of curiosity and unease.

“It’s so…beautiful,” Aang said quietly, “But you’re saying it’s dangerous?”

“Yeah,” Jinx said, her voice dropping, “Beautiful things usually are.”

Katara frowned. “And you use that? To hurt people?”

Jinx hesitated, gripping the Hex Gem tighter. “Back in Zaun, it was…different. You don’t survive down there without a weapon. But here?”

She glanced at her gun, then back at the others. “Here, it’s…complicated.”

Sokka, still fascinated despite the gravity of her words, pointed at the Hex Gem. “So, wait—this thing powers your gun? How does that even work?”

Jinx smirked faintly, flipping the Hex Gem in her palm. “Trade secret, Boomerang Boy. But trust me, you don’t want to find out firsthand.”

The weight of Jinx’s words hung heavy in the air as the group exchanged uneasy glances. The glowing Hex Gem, cradled in Jinx’s hand, seemed to pulse faintly, its ominous light casting long shadows in the moonlit sky.

Aang shifted uncomfortably, wanting to dispel the tension that hung over the group as a grin tugged at his lips as he suddenly clapped his hands together.

“Hey, Jinx,” He said, his voice light and cheerful. “What about Riot Blast? You know, your…uh, music machine thing!”

Katara’s face lit up in recognition. “Oh, right! Riot Blast!” she said eagerly, turning to Jinx. “You told us about it on Kyoshi Island. The thing that plays music recorded onto…what did you call them? Disks?”

Sokka furrowed his brow, clearly perplexed. “Wait, wait, hold up,” he said, holding up his hands. “What are you two talking about? Music? Disks? What kind of made-up nonsense is this?”

Jinx, who had been staring out into the night sky with the Hex Gem still in her hand, smirked faintly at Sokka’s skepticism. “It’s not nonsense, Boomerang Boy, It’s science.” She said, setting the Hex Gem carefully back into her bag.

Sokka crossed his arms, eyeing her suspiciously. “Science? You’re telling me there’s something that can play music without a person actually playing an instrument? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Well,” Jinx said, her smirk widening. “—you’re in luck, because I just so happen to have one right here.” She reached into her bag and pulled out Riot Blast, a large hand sized portable music device, its worn exterior gleamed faintly in the moonlight as she held it up for the group to see.

“This,” Jinx announced, holding it up proudly. “—is Riot Blast. My best friend when it comes to rocking out.”

Sokka blinked, staring at the strange contraption in her hands. “That’s…it?” he said, tilting his head. “It doesn’t look like much.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed by his lack of enthusiasm. “Looks can be deceiving, Boomerang Boy,” she said, fiddling with the device’s dials.

Aang leaned forward eagerly. “How does it work again, Jinx?” he asked, his excitement bubbling over.

Jinx grinned as she began explaining. “So, back in Zaun, we recorded music onto these disks—kinda like flat, round plates. You’d spin the disk inside a machine like Riot Blast here, and it’d play back the music that was recorded on it. Over and over, as much as you want.”

Katara’s eyes widened with wonder. “That’s amazing,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “It’s like having a band with you all the time, but you don’t need anyone to actually play the instruments!”

“Exactly,” Jinx said, flashing her a crooked grin. “Pretty handy when you’re on the run or, y’know, trying not to lose your mind.”

Sokka’s skeptical gaze bore into her. “Alright,” she said, raising Riot Blast higher in her hand as she straightened up. “Let me tell you a story.”

She held the device up proudly, its cobbled-together design gleaming faintly in the starlight. “Riot Blast origin story!!” she declared, grinning wide, “Riot Blast wasn’t always…well, Riot Blast.”

Sokka crossed his arms, still dubious. “So, what was it before?”

Jinx sighed dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. “He used to be one of my Twin Chompers,” she said, her tone theatrical.

“Grenade Twins. The best pair of explosives I ever made!” She held the Riot Blast like a precious treasure, as though mourning a dear friend. “And my music disk player! That sweet beauty used to be the life of the party back in Zaun.”

Katara tilted her head. “Wait…your music player? How did it end up as Riot Blast?”

Jinx leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “Tragic story,” she said solemnly. “Somewhere before I got to the Southern Air Temple, I had an…accident. Fell. Big mess. My music player got damaged beyond repair.” 

Jinx paused for dramatic effect, her eyes wide. “Had to make a choice. My heart was shattered!”

Aang blinked at her, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. “Wait…you fell?”

Sokka narrowed his eyes. “This is sounding suspiciously like a cover story for something else.”

Jinx ignored him, pressing on. “I had to break them apart—the Chomper Twins—and reincarnate them with my bare hands into something new.” She held Riot Blast up high, like a trophy, “And so, Riot Blast was born! Half music player, half-not-anymore-grenade twin, all rock-and-roll awesomeness.”

Aang chuckled. “You’re really attached to this thing, huh?”

“Of course!” Jinx said, her grin infectious. “Riot Blast is my ride-or-die. He’s got personality!”

Sokka leaned in for a closer look, Jinx’s expression faltered slightly. Her hand hesitated before reaching back into her purple bag. “But…there’s another,” she murmured, pulling out another device—her Monkey Bomb. 

Its eyes are not blinking pink, as its soft beeping is only powered by the beating core of the glowing Hex Gem tobe embedded within the cast as its eerie sad expression runs across its face. 

“This is…uh…let’s just call ’em MB,” she said flatly, her voice losing its earlier excitement as Jinx quickly shoved it back into the bag, her shoulders tense.

The group exchanged glances, sensing the shift in her demeanor. Aang opened his mouth to ask, but Jinx immediately refocused on Riot Blast, her grin forced but determined.

“Anyway!” she said, digging into a small worn pouch tied to her belt. She pulled out a handful of flat, black disks and held them up. “These little guys are my music discs. They’ve got songs and tunes recorded on them from back home. Pretty cool, huh?”

Katara’s eyes lit up. “That’s amazing!”

“Exactly!” Jinx said, her grin returning. 

“Back in Zaun, everyone used these. We’d play music at home, in the streets, or at the bar—” She faltered, her voice trailing off as she glanced down at the small makeshift mountain disks in her hand, tied together securely by threads to keep them from being scattered.

“The bar?” Katara prompted gently.

Jinx hesitated, her fingers tightening around the small disks, “Yeah,” she said softly. “The bar…My caretaker, Vander. He used to own this place called The Last Drop. He’d always play music while he worked.”

Her voice grew quieter, her eyes distant as if she could still hear the tunes playing in the smoky, bustling atmosphere of the bar. “It made things feel less…heavy, you know?”

The group watched her silently, the weight of her memories palpable. Even Sokka seemed unsure of what to say, his earlier skepticism replaced with a rare moment of understanding.

Jinx blinked rapidly, snapping herself out of it. She shoved the disks back into the pouch and smirked at the group. “Anyway! Enough of the mushy stuff. Who wants to hear Riot Blast in action?”

Aang grinned. “I do!”

Katara nodded eagerly. “Me too!”

Sokka shrugged. “Sure. Let’s see what this thing can do.”

Jinx rummaged through her purple bag, pulling out a small stack of flat, black disks tied together with a fraying thread. She carefully untied the knot, letting the disks scatter across the saddle they were resting on. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she began skimming through the disks, mumbling titles under her breath.

After a moment, she glanced at Sokka with a mischievous grin. “I’ve got just the perfect song for you, Boomerang,” she teased, emphasizing the nickname she’d given him.

Sokka groaned but couldn’t hide his curiosity. “Oh, great. Let’s hear it, then,” he said, crossing his arms.

Jinx flipped open Riot Blast, carefully removed the disk already inside, and swapped it for the one she’d selected. She closed the device, it clicked with a satisfying mechanical sound. Riot Blast came to life, its inner workings whirring softly as the tiny black disk began to spin.

The gang leaned in, intrigued, as the first notes filled the air. The sound of gentle wind swept over them, followed by delicate wind chimes and a soft, steady beat. The serene intro quickly drew them in, and then the voice of a man began to sing, his tone rich with emotion, each word layered with meaning:

“How many lies do we have to tell? To keep from saying that I wish you well, How many times I said I’m moving on?”

Sokka straightened, clearly caught off guard. “Wait—there are words on that thing?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Katara nudged him. “Shh, listen,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on the device.

“How many times that false alarm goes off

(goes off), goes off (goes off)?

I know, I’ll see you tomorrow…”

The beat picked up, carrying the gang along with its rhythm. Even Aang tapped his fingers against his knees, his head bobbing slightly. Jinx’s grin widened as she glanced at Sokka, enjoying his stunned expression.

“Cause I’m bad at letting you go,

letting you go, Letting you go, letting you go!

Moving on, moving on! Moving on, moving on!

I’m ready to go, ready to go!

Ready to throw, ready to throw!

You’re my boomerang, boomerang!

Y ou’re my boomerang, boomerang!”

"How many tears do we have to cry?

How many sleepless, lonely nights?

To work it out, is it worth it now?

Should we go ahead, or should we turn around?"

Jinx’s smile faded, her thoughts drifting.

“I know, I’ll see you tomorrow—

‘Cause I’m bad at letting you go, letting you go!

Letting you go, letting you go!

Moving on, moving on, Moving on, moving on!

I’m ready to go, ready to go!

Ready to throw, ready to throw!” 

The music swelled, but the lyrics only seemed to deepen Jinx’s somber mood.

“Ju st because it isn’t easy, doesn’t mean that it is wrong…

Everything that we’ve been working on, working on so long~”

The song’s final chorus repeated, its energy lifting the mood again:

"You’re my boomerang, boomerang!

You’re my boomerang, boomerang!

You’re my boome-boome-boomerang-rang! 

Letting you go, letting you go! (boomerang-rang)! (2x)

Moving on, moving on!(boomerang-rang) (2x)

I’m ready to go, ready to go!(boomerang-rang)!

Ready to throw, ready to throw! 

You’re my boomerang, boomerang!

You’re my boomerang, boomerang!"

The song ended and all left was the sound of wind.

Aang clapped his hands together. “That was amazing! It’s like the music has a story of its own.”

Katara nodded, her face soft with wonder. “The singer…you can really feel what they were going through. It’s beautiful, Jinx.”

Sokka looked impressed, though he tried to hide it. “Okay, I’ll admit—that was pretty cool. And kind of catchy,” he said, crossing his arms again.

Jinx shrugged, trying to downplay her pride. “Yeah, well…it’s from Zaun. We know how to rock.” She gently closed Riot Blast, tucking it and the disks back into her bag with a smirk, glancing at Sokka one last time.

He groaned, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Great. Now it’s stuck in my head. Thanks for that.”

A small, genuine laugh escaped Jinx’s lips, and for a moment, the heavy thoughts in her heart lifted, carried away by the lingering rhythm of the song.

Sokka leaned back on the saddle, arms crossed. “Okay,” He began slowly, “I’ll admit—that was… kind of...amazing.”

He frowned, as if reluctant to give the song too much credit. “The beat was great, and the guy’s voice? Pretty impressive.”

Jinx grinned, sensing he wasn’t done.

“But,” Sokka continued, pointing a finger at her. “how does this have anything to do with me?”

Katara rolled her eyes. “Sokka, it’s called Boomerang. That’s your nickname, remember? It’s perfect for you.”

“Yeah, but the song’s all emotional and dramatic! I don’t get all weepy over stuff like that,” Sokka argued, gesturing animatedly.

Jinx’s smirk widened. “Oh, sure you don’t,” she teased, leaning forward, “Not even when you lost your precious boomerang in that fight last week and you had us all spend hours looking for it?"

She rubbed her chin looking up, thinking. "What was it you said? Oh, right—‘Boomerang always comes back!’” Jinx mimicked his voice with exaggerated drama, clutching her chest for effect.

Aang burst out laughing, nearly falling off the saddle. “She’s got a point, Sokka. You are kind of exactly like the song.”

Sokka sputtered, his face turning red. “That’s—that’s totally different! My boomerang is a weapon, not some sentimental…love story thing!”

Jinx laughed, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Relax, Boomerang. It’s just a song. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate the irony.”

Sokka huffed, but he couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. I guess it’s…catchy. But don’t expect me to start singing it or anything.”

“Oh, come on,” Katara said, grinning. “Admit it—you liked it.”

Sokka threw his hands up in mock exasperation. “Okay, fine! The song was good, alright? There, I said it! Are you happy now?”

“Very,” Jinx said smugly, crossing her arms. “And just so you know, I picked that one just for you, Mr. Boomerang. It's your theme song, now. You’re welcome.”

Sokka sighed. “Great. Now I’ve got a theme song. Wonderful.”

As the group burst into soft laughter, Jinx laughed harder, and for a moment, the air was filled with lightness. Even Sokka couldn’t help but crack a grin, letting himself enjoy the ridiculousness of it all.

End of Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Another day passed Team Avatar as the blissful night arrived was still, the sky blanketed with stars as Appa soared northward toward the North Pole. Aang sat cross-legged near the edge of the saddle, staring into the distance with a wistful expression. His staff lay across his lap, but his thoughts were elsewhere, lingering on the vivid dream he had the night before.

In the dream, he was in his time again, racing through the streets of Omashu with his best friend, Bumi. They were laughing, dodging the carts and bustling crowds, when Bumi suddenly stopped and turned to Aang, his wild grin fading into a serious expression.

“Aang,” Bumi had said, his voice somber. “—it’s time you come back. Omashu needs you.”

Aang hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that it was more than just a dream.

“Baldy, you’ve been quiet for too long. Are you about to burst into some long-winded speech about air or peace or something?” Jinx’s voice broke the silence, pulling him back to the present.

Aang blinked, looking over his shoulder at the group. Katara and Sokka were huddled together near the center of the saddle, talking in low voices. Jinx, however, sat sprawled across the edge with her legs dangling precariously, her glowing pink eyes fixed on him with a blanket wrapped around her keeping herself warm from the chill in the air. 

“I, uh…” Aang scratched the back of his head nervously. “I was just thinking about…a friend of mine. Someone I knew from before.”

“You mean one of your Air Nomad buddies?” Jinx asked, twirling her Zap Gun in her hand as the other held the Hex Gem. 

“No,” Aang said softly, glancing down at his staff.

“Bumi. He was my best friend from the Earth Kingdom. We used to have so much fun together, sneaking around Omashu, sliding down the mail chutes…” He trailed off, a small smile forming on his lips.

Sokka perked up at the mention of fun. “Mail chutes? What kind of fun are we talking about here?”

“It’s like…giant slides that crisscross the whole city!” Aang explained, his eyes lighting up. “We used to ride delivery carts down them. It was amazing!”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “That sounds…dangerous.”

“It was!” Aang said, laughing. “But Bumi always said you’ve gotta be a little crazy to enjoy life.”

“Sounds like my kind of guy,” Jinx muttered, though her tone was skeptical.

Aang’s laughter faded, his expression somber. “Last night, I had a dream about Bumi. He told me to come back to Omashu. I think…I think he might still be there.”

Katara and Sokka exchanged a glance.

“Aang,” Katara said gently. “You know it’s been a hundred years. Your friend—”

“I know,” Aang cut in, his voice sharper than intended. “But I have to know for sure. And besides, I need an Earthbending master. Omashu’s the best chance we’ve got.”

Jinx tilted her head, squinting at him. “Hold on. Backup for a second. What do you mean it’s been a hundred years?”

The group fell silent.

Katara looked at Aang, unsure how to explain.

Sokka, ever the blunt one, stepped in. “Oh, right. You don’t know. Aang here is a hundred and twelve years old. He just doesn’t look like it because he was frozen in a block of ice for a hundred years.”

Jinx stared at Aang as if he’d just sprouted another head. “I’m sorry, what? A hundred twelve years old? Frozen? For a hundred years?”

“Yeah,” Aang said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s…a long story.”

“It’s not that long,” Sokka quipped. “He ran away from his responsibilities as the Avatar, got caught in a storm, and ended up encased in ice with Appa until my sister and I found him.”

Katara shot Sokka a glare. “Sokka, that’s not fair. He’s just a kid.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jinx held up a hand, her expression a mix of disbelief and intrigue. “You’re telling me you ran away, got frozen, and then just…woke up a hundred years later like nothing happened?”

“Well, not exactly like nothing happened,” Aang said quietly, his tone heavy. “When I woke up, I found out the Fire Nation wiped out the Air Nomads and started a war that’s been going on ever since.”

Jinx absorbed his words. “Oh..." she muttered, looking away.

“The world’s changed a lot since Aang was frozen,” Katara added gently. “But he’s back now, and he’s going to end the war. That’s why we’re helping him.”

“Right.” Jinx leaned back, crossing her arms, staring up at the stars.

Aang managed a small smile, but his thoughts were already drifting back to Omashu. “Anyway,” He said, trying to lighten the mood, “Bumi might still be there. And even if he’s not…I-I want to see for myself.”

Jinx glanced at him, her glowing eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Alright, Baldy. Let’s go find your crazy Earth Kingdom friend.” giving off a shrug. 

Katara sighed but smiled softly. “I guess we’re going to Omashu.”

Aang goes taking his maps, unrolling it over his lap reading it over with his hands tracing over said map, and rolls it up and returns it to where he’s found it from and guides Appa to their change of direction and destination. 

Jinx’s expression shifts blankly, eyes narrowing as she processes what Aang had just shared. “So let me get the facts straight,” she said, her voice dripping with incredulity. “You ran away from…what? Some big, scary responsibility? And instead of facing it, you got yourself frozen like some leftover stew and woke up a century later to find everything you ran from went completely to hell?”

Aang flinched at her words, his shoulders hunching slightly.

Katara immediately bristled, her protective instinct flaring. “Jinx, that’s not fair!” she snapped, “Aang is just a kid. He didn’t ask to be the Avatar, and the pressure on him was unimaginable!”

Jinx turned her sharp gaze to Katara, her expression unyielding. “And how do you think the rest of the world felt while he was taking his hundred-year nap? The Fire Nation didn’t wait around twiddling their thumbs, did they?”

She leaned forward, her voice biting. “A hundred years of people dying, fighting, and losing everything while he was frozen. Sounds pretty convenient for him.”

“Hey!” Sokka interjected, glaring at her. “That’s enough. Aang didn’t choose to be frozen. It was an accident. And if you haven’t noticed, he’s trying to fix everything now.”

But Aang raised a hand, shoulders slumping. “No…she’s right.”

The group turned to him in surprise.

“I did run away,” Aang admitted, his tone low. “I was scared. I didn’t want to be the Avatar…and…and…b-because of that, people suffered.” His gray eyes flicked to Jinx, heavy but steady. “I can’t undo what happened. But I can do everything in my power to make it right now.”

Jinx stared at him, her expression unreadable before leaning back with a heavy sigh. “Well, aren’t you the little saint, Baldy,” she muttered.

Katara’s gaze softened, and she placed a hand on Aang’s shoulder. “You’re doing your best, Aang. That’s all anyone can ask.”

Jinx rubbed her temples, clearly frustrated. “Okay, fine. You’ve got your sad little redemption arc going. Great. But I still don’t get how you just…woke up one day like, ‘Oh, guess I’ll go save the world now’ That doesn’t freak you out? Like, at all?”

“It did at first,” Aang admitted, “Everything's different. The world I knew is gone, and the people I loved are gone. But...I met Katara and Sokka, and I got to meet you...that gave me hope. That there’s still good in the world worth fighting for.”

Jinx scoffed, but there was a flicker of something in her expression— something vulnerable, almost wistful. “Must be nice,” she muttered under her breath.

“What about you?” Katara asked gently, her curiosity piqued. “You’ve been through a lot too, haven’t you? You seem like someone who’s been running for a long time.”

Jinx froze, her eyes darting away from Katara’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said quickly, her voice tight.

Katara didn’t push, sensing that Jinx wasn’t ready to open up. Instead, she offered a small smile. “Well, if you ever want to talk, we’re here.”

Jinx let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “You’re all way too soft."

“Maybe,” Aang said, smiling faintly, “But sometimes, soft is what the world needs.”

Jinx glanced at him, her glowing eyes narrowing slightly. “…sure."

The group lapsed into silence, the tension easing slightly as Appa continued to soar through the night sky.

And yet, Jinx’s mind was far from quiet.

A hundred years frozen. A war-torn world. A boy trying to fix everything he’d missed. She couldn’t decide if Aang was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Maybe both.

The stars twinkled above them as Jinx caught herself glancing at Aang out of the corner of her eye. For all his optimism and hope, there was a weight in his gaze that mirrored something in her own—a heaviness born of loss and guilt. She slouched in her seat against the saddle, the night air brushing against her face as she stared out at the night’s horizon, her expression distant.

Inside her head, a storm was brewing.

‘Man, I’m such a hypocrite.’  She thought bitterly. ‘Ragging on Baldy like that, acting like I’m any better. Who the hell am I kidding?’ Her fingers unconsciously toyed with the small tools in her pocket, a nervous habit she’d picked up over the years. She couldn’t stop the flood of memories that washed over her—the screams, the explosions, the looks of betrayal.

Jinx swallowed hard.

‘When I was his age, I thought I could fix everything too. I thought I could save my family. Instead… ’ She clenched her jaw, her thoughts spiraling. 

‘I got them all killed. Vander. Claggor, Mylo, Ekko…all gone because of me. And Vi…she left because of me.’ Jinx’s chest tightened.

‘And Silco…’ She winced. ‘He believed in me. Wanted a Nation of Zaun. I ruined that too.’

Her mind then landed on Isha, her pink eyes glancing towards Aang as her throat began tightening painfully, ‘And Isha…she saw me as family. Her stupid big sister, the one she trusted to protect her. And what did I do? Got her killed . Because I couldn’t stand losing her. Because I was selfish enough to think she’d be better off staying with me .’

Jinx’s hand balled into a fist, her nails biting into her palm. 

“Stick your head in the dirt if you want, but this fantasy you’ve been living out here?—”

Sevika’s words echoing in the realm of Jinx’s mind as her glowing pink eyes dim.

“It isn’t going to last forever.”

Jinx’s face broke at that moment, stuck on what was and what will never be again, nor what it could’ve been. She turned her head to the side, her bangs falling over her face like a curtain. Jinx hid her expression from the others, but inside, she was unraveling.

Powder ruined everything.

And Jinx keeps ruining everything.

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, forcing herself not to cry. ‘I’ve killed people. So many people. Blood I’ll never wash off. And I never even hesitated. I don’t even feel bad about it. I’m a walking disaster.’ Jinx’s gaze flickered toward Aang, who sat quietly in the saddle, his expression still weighed down by everything they’d talked about.

Despite everything, he looked determined, resolute.

Jinx felt a pang of something sharp in her chest.

‘At least he’s trying. After all the crap he’s been through, after everything he lost, he’s still trying to make things right.' Her fingers relaxed slightly, her hand falling into her lap.

‘I never even tried to fix anything I’ve ruined. Not once. All I’ve ever done is destroy.’ Jinx let out a shaky breath, her throat tightening as she forced herself to do something she rarely ever did—apologize.

The mood hung heavy until, much later, Jinx broke it again—her voice quieter, hesitant, almost unfamiliar in its softness with her face still partially hidden by her hair.

“Hey…uh, Baldy,” she started, her usual edge softened.

“I…uh…” She scratched the back of her head awkwardly, not meeting his eyes, struggling to get the words out. “I’m sorry. For what I said earlier. And…how I said it.”

Aang turned to her, surprised by her tone. Katara and Sokka glanced over too, their expressions caught between shock and curiosity.

Jinx avoided their eyes, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeves of her pants. “I was thinking about what you told me. About running away and screwing everything up.”

She hesitated, her voice cracking slightly. “For what its worth...you’re way better than me. Better than my people in Zaun too.”

Aang’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“You’re strong, Baldy,” Jinx said, her voice gaining a little more steadiness. “You don’t let all the crap you’ve lost, or the guilt of what you’ve done, break you. You’re actually trying to fix things. That’s…that’s something.”

Her pink eyes briefly met his before darting away again. “I wasn’t strong enough,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I broke. And I keep breaking. Over and over again.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, she felt like she couldn’t breathe, but then, forced a shaky laugh, trying to mask the vulnerability with her usual bravado—pointed a finger at Aang, lips quirking into a crooked smile.

“So, uh…don’t change, okay?” She said, her tone almost pleading but laced with humor. “Stay just the way you are. The world needs someone like you, not…not someone like me.”

Aang’s gray eyes softened, and he smiled faintly, his heart aching for the broken girl before him. “Thanks, Jinx,” he said gently, “But you’re stronger than you think too.”

“…Mylo’s wrong, Powder. You’re stronger than you think.”

Vi’s voice rippled through her mind at Aang’s choice of words that tugged at her mind gently, a memory from a very long time ago that is so drastically different now. It sometimes didn’t feel like it actually happened. It felt like a distant dream.

Jinx rolled her eyes, her grin widening slightly to cover the tremble in her lips. “Don’t push it, Baldy.”

The group lapsed into silence again, the stars above them twinkling softly as Appa glided through the night. But for the first time in a long time, Jinx felt a flicker of something she hadn’t felt in years, something she wasn’t sure what it was, yet.

Aang felt an ache in his chest as his mind took in Jinx’s words that hung in the air. He could see the cracks in her armor, the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and the quiet despair she tried to bury beneath humor and sarcasm.

Her apology took him by surprise, and it left him with a strange mixture of guilt and admiration. Jinx had lashed out at him earlier, but now, hearing her admit a little of her own struggles, he felt like he understood her a little better.

‘She thinks she's not...needed...,’ Aang thought, his gray eyes watching her carefully. ‘But it’s not true. She’s still here, isn’t she? Whatever she’s been through, she’s still fighting in her own way. That takes strength.’

Jinx’s words about breaking and never being able to fix things hit him hard. It made him think about his own failures—abandoning his people, running away, letting the Fire Nation destroy the world. But unlike Jinx, he’d been given a second chance to make things right. 

Though that didn’t mean he didn’t feel burdened by it all, it haunted him, and it made his chest heavy. Like he has this stone in his chest, every deep inhale he took, that stone would be lifted, but when he exhaled…it came right back and felt even more heavy than the last. 

Jinx’s words stayed with Aang, she had told him not to change, she said that the world needed someone like him. Not someone like her, she had added, her voice bitter, almost resigned. The thought weighed heavily on Aang’s mind, couldn’t understand how someone as strong and resourceful as Jinx could see herself as someone not needed.

‘I don’t get it,’ Aang thought, frowning as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Jinx was quiet now, her gaze fixed on the night's horizon, her expression unreadable. 

‘How can she think she’s not needed? ’ Her words felt like a challenge—one Aang wasn’t sure he was ready for. Jinx believes in him, in his ability to stay true to himself, but how could he live up to that? He’d already failed, hadn’t he? He ran away, and the world had paid the price. He had put Kyoshi Island in danger.

If Aang had listened to Katara, then none of what happened later that day would’ve happened. 

‘What if I mess up again?’ He thought.

And yet, Jinx’s words stirred something in him. Maybe...it wasn’t just a plea for him to stay the same; it was a warning. The world needed hope, needed kindness and forgiveness. If he let his grief and guilt consume him, he’d become just as lost as she seemed to be.

‘Maybe she’s right,’ Aang admitted to himself. ‘Maybe the world does need someone like me. Someone who can still see the good in things, even after everything that’s happened.’

‘But that doesn’t mean the world didn’t need Jinx too.’ He thought to himself, Jinx might not see it yet, but Aang could. Her strength, her ability to keep going even when the world had crushed her—it was something the world needed just as much as his hope. 

‘She doesn’t believe that now,’ he thought, a quiet determination forming in his heart. ‘But maybe one day, she will. And I’ll be there to help her see it.’ 

Aang took a deep breath, the cool night air filling his lungs. If Jinx believed he was strong enough to stay true to himself, then he’d do everything in his power to prove her right. And maybe, just maybe, he could help her see that she wasn’t as broken as she thought she was.

Aang turned to Jinx, his expression softening as he thought about everything she had said. A small warm smile broke across his face, one full of hope and determination. 

"Hey, Jinx,” He began, his voice gentle but carrying a newfound energy. “Once we get the chance, when we get to Omashu, I’m going to help you with Airbending. I promise.”

Jinx glanced at him, her glowing pink eyes narrowing slightly, as if she didn’t know whether to take him seriously or brush it off. “Didn’t you already promise that once?” She said dryly, crossing her arms.

Aang winced, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah…I did , didn’t I?” He chuckled nervously, “Sorry about that. Everything on Kyoshi Island kind of got…really busy.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You forgot.”

“Okay, I forgot!” Aang admitted, throwing his hands up in defeat. “But I’m not going to forget this time. I mean it. I’ll teach you everything I know about Airbending and…and about our culture too.”

Jinx’s gaze softened ever so slightly, though her expression remained guarded. “Your culture, huh?”

Aang nodded earnestly. “Yeah! We’re the last Airbenders—well, probably—and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive. To pass it on.”

His voice grew quieter, more thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking about it, and…it’s not just me anymore. I’m not alone in this. It’s us. You and me. We’ll both share that responsibility.”

Jinx blinked, her eyes darting away as if she didn’t know how to respond. Responsibility wasn’t something she’d ever been trusted with—not in the way Aang was describing it. It was strange, hearing someone talk about her like she was part of something bigger, like she had a place.

Aang smiled brighter, leaning forward slightly as if trying to pull her into his enthusiasm. “I know things have been really hard for you. And I don’t know everything you’ve been through, but Airbending, it’s not just a skill. It’s a way of life. It’s about freedom, forgiveness, balance and finding peace. I think…I think it could help you.”

Jinx didn’t answer right away, but something about the way she looked at him shifted. Her usual sarcasm and deflection were absent, replaced by a flicker of something Aang couldn’t quite place.

“I don’t know, Baldy,” She muttered finally, her tone lighter but still tinged with uncertainty. “You might be biting off more than you can chew with me.”

Aang just grinned, “I don’t think so. You’ll see.”

Jinx turned her head to hide her face behind her bangs. “We’ll see, Little Hero-Man,” she mumbled. 

Sokka leaned back against the saddle rim, arms folded behind his head, pretending he wasn’t paying attention. Truth was, he’d caught every word. Hard not to, with Jinx’s voice slipping like cracks in armor she never wanted anyone to see and put up walls to compensate for those cracks 

He frowned up at the stars. He’d gotten used to her snark, her sharp edges, the way she laughed at everything like it was all a big joke. But tonight…tonight she let something slip, and he didn’t like the way it sounded.

“I broke. And I keep breaking. Over and over again.”

The words stuck in his head, heavy and jagged.

Sokka didn’t know what her deal was—not really. Jinx tossed around snippets of herself, but whatever it was, it had carved something deep into her, based on the pretty rough state they've found her in at the Southern Air Temple...something ugly she didn’t bother to hide when she thought no one was looking.

And Aang…Aang just soaked it all in like a sponge. 

Sokka glanced at him—grinning all soft and hopeful, swearing he’d teach Jinx Airbending like it was going to solve everything and Aang really believed it, too.

Maybe that was what concerned Sokka most.

Because Jinx wasn’t like Aang. She's rough edges, constant mood swings, and has a concerning habit in lack of eating meals that has Katara really worried.

And yeah, maybe Jinx shown a flash of something vulnerable sometimes like tonight—but Sokka had seen enough to know that Katara's words of comfort that worked on Aang, but it didn't work on Jinx...if anything all it did was make her mood drop further. 

Still…Sokka thought about the way her voice had cracked when she’d said she wasn’t strong enough. How she bit her lip, hiding her face behind her bangs, she didn’t want them to see her unravel.

Sokka dragged a hand down his face, sighing quietly. “Teaching Jinx Airbending? That’s…ambitious.” he whispered as he shifted his gaze back to the stars, just enough for Katara to hear sitting beside him. 

Katara turned toward him immediately, narrowing her eyes. “Don't start.” she said sharply, her voice low but firm.

He sat up a little, defensive. “I’m just being realistic.”

“Realistic or not, she doesn’t need you tearing her down,” Katara hissed, keeping her voice quiet so Jinx wouldn’t overhear. Her blue eyes softened as they flicked toward the blue-haired girl huddled near the edge of the saddle. “You heard her, Sokka. She thinks she’s broken. She thinks she can’t be fixed. The last thing she needs is us making her feel worse.”

Sokka frowned. “I’m not trying to make her feel worse. I’m just saying—it’s not going to be that easy. Every time you or Aang try to comfort her, she shuts down. What makes you think Aang teaching her is going to magically change that?”

Katara's thoughts churned as she watched Jinx from across the saddle, while the girl in question sat with her knees drawn up, fingers twitching like she couldn’t sit still even when she was clearly exhausted. Katara couldn’t unsee the shadows under her eyes or the way her thin frame seemed to move like she was running on fumes.

“She barely eats unless you nag her into it,” Sokka continued, “And if we didn’t care? She wouldn’t eat at all. You see it too. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

Katara’s lips parted, but no words came as she frowned before she shook her head, her voice thickening. “I can’t just stand by and let her keep thinking that way.” Her shoulders dropped, her hand curling in her lap.

Sokka studied her face, the quiet fire in her eyes. He exhaled heavily, dropping his gaze back to the stars. “I just don’t think it’s that simple. Not with her.”

Katara followed his gaze, her jaw tightening with quiet resolve. “Then we’ll just have to make it simple. Sometimes that’s all it takes. Someone who won’t let go, no matter how many times you push them away."

Sokka didn’t answer, just stared at the night sky at the weight of his sister’s words, Jinx’s cracked voice echoing in his head while also remembering her of trying to help him back on Kyoshi Island when she could have just left him alone to keep sulking. 

“I get it. I do. But Katara…" He sighed, running a hand through his hair before his blue eyes hesitated glancing toward the girl huddled at the corner of the saddle, her braids hanging limp in the moonlight.

Sokka continued, voice shaking with a rare kind of honesty. "You can’t patch every crack with a kind word. Jinx isn’t Aang. She’s not going to bounce back just because you tell her she’s strong, or that things are going to get better, or that it's okay to feel bad.”

Katara bristled, but her gaze stayed on Jinx.

The girl’s glowing pink eyes were distant now, trying to remain fixed on the stars as if searching for something beyond them before her eyes drooped and fluttering close as her head nodded off before her whole frame jolted back up again.

Trying to stay awake, again.

Because she did see it. Every time she tried to reassure Jinx, every time she offered comfort, the girl either grew more distant, snapped back with sarcasm or bitterness. It was nothing like Aang—who soaked up reassurance like water to a thirsty plant. 

With Jinx, it was like pouring water onto stone.

Nothing sank in.

“She doesn’t need to bounce back overnight,” Katara said finally, her voice steady again. “She just needs to know someone believes she can.”

“Look Katara, it’s not like I want to see her this way,” Sokka rubbed at the back of his neck, staring hard at the sky like the stars might hand him the right words. “And it’s not like I don’t wish she could get better. I do. I really do. But with Jinx? It’s not going to be some easy fix. It’s…it’s a long road. A really long and hard road.”

Katara frowned, turning toward him fully, but Sokka pressed on before she could interrupt.

“You saw the state she was in when we found her at the temple. Don’t pretend you didn’t. She didn’t look okay—she looked awful.” His throat tightened as the images replayed in his head: her thin frame, her pale skin, those haunted glowing eyes that had looked at them like they weren’t even real.

“She still does." Sokka pressed his lips together before forcing the words out. "Think about it. Sitting in a dusty old temple, surrounded by skeletons, that...that creepy monkey thingy clutched to her chest like it was all she had left? Food spoiled, untouched. She looked…”

Katara’s lips parted, but she stayed quiet.

His arms crossed tighter against his chest, as if trying to hold something back. “She looked like she’d given up.”

“And that monkey thing she carries around?" Sokka went on, his voice tightening. “I don’t like it. Not one bit. The way she clings to it…my gut’s telling me...I don't know...it just feels wrong.”

The words sat heavy between them, the weight of what he’d just admitted pressing into the saddle like an unwelcome passenger.

“That’s why I’m wary. I don’t want to be right…but my instincts won’t shut up about it...I don’t think we can just talk away.” Sokka sighed, dragging a hand down his face, dropped his hand into his lap, fingers curling tight as Katara’s heart ached at his words, her arms tightening around herself as she turned her gaze back to Jinx who lost the fight against sleep, was curled slightly inward, arms around herself.

Katara thought about the untouched bowls of food she’d tried coaxing her to eat—soups, rice, even little dried fruit pieces—but even then, Jinx only picked halfheartedly as if food was more of a burden than comfort. The shadows under Jinx's eyes that never seemed to fade, and the way her hands sometimes shook when she thought no one was looking. 

Katara’s chest tightened, her protective instinct flaring with a quiet, stubborn strength. Quietly pulled out a neatly folded blanket near her, unfolded it, and stretched it out before making her way over to Jinx and settled the blanket over her thin frame to keep the cold away.

Her blue eyes softened, tracing Jinx’s tense frame against the night sky as she slept. 'Even if she rolls her eyes or snaps at me. I’ll make sure she eats. I’ll keep trying until she remembers how to take care of herself.'

Katara returned to her spot, finally glanced back at her brother, who stares back, and they didn't need to say anything more after that.

The sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and lavender as Appa soared above the clouds. Riot Blast hummed with life, the music flowing softly, yet rhythmically, through the crisp morning air.

“People-pleasing planet, 

Got a million people saying how to plan it—

I can no longer stand it—

Gonna spend my days telling them to can it~”

Jinx sat cross-legged near the back of the saddle, bundled in her green cloak against the morning chill. Her sketchbook rested on her lap, one hand turning the pages as the other worked quickly with a piece of charcoal.

Her focus was sharp, her pink eyes darting between the sketches of her past inventions, her lips quirked slightly as she worked, bobbing her head to the rhythm of the song.

One page held a rough blueprint for her Flame Chompers, a few doodles of an Hourglass, and a face of an Angry Monkey. The next page featured two familiar designs from her youth: Whiskers and Meowzer, her old smoke bombs from Zaun. 

“Take me to the beach! (ah~)

You could have the mountains! (ah~)

You take the snow! (ah~)

It’s way too cold! 

My heart is cold enough! (ah~)

Push comes to shove (ah~),

You could have the mountains (ah~),

I’ll take the beach!”

Katara leaned back against the saddle wall, smiling faintly at the music before a sudden switch to a new language caught her attention. 

“Ah, 聞く耳断つ

奴が大層な胸を張る

また構わずやる

「望まない」から舌を打つ

(チッ) え？Ah

神か仏か？ヒト気取りか？

頭の中 lеave me alone

誰になればいいの？

Take your hands off!”

“What language is that?” She mused quietly, more to herself than anyone else. She had no idea what the words meant, but she enjoyed the song’s energy and Riot Blast’s mechanical hum.

Sokka, meanwhile, was fidgeting beside Aang. “I’ll take over,” he said suddenly, gesturing to the reins, “You’ve been flying all morning. Go eat your breakfast.”

“Thanks, Sokka!” Aang grinned and handed the reins over without hesitation, padded over to where Katara was already passing him a bowl of fruits and nuts and a small desert to go along with it from Kyoshi Island, giving her a bright smile and thanked her. 

Aang sat cross-legged, leaning against the side of the saddle as the music played. His gaze wandered to Jinx, who was completely absorbed in her sketching.

The sound of Riot Blast’s bass beats blended seamlessly with the click Charcoal against the page, there were little doodles of Hourglasses, a Helmet with goggles with drawn spirals within, an Angry Monkey face, and a Shark with a scar over its eye. 

Curiosity piqued, Aang scarfed down a mouthful of his share of breakfast before scooting closer to her. “What’re you working on?” He asked, his voice light and cheerful.

“Flame Chompers.” She replied without looking up as kept sketching, her tone casual, though a faint smirk tugged at her lips as she noticed Aang’s intrigued expression. “It’s something I’ve been working on for a while. Explosive little things—fun surprises.” 

Aang blinked. “Uh… Explosive?” He echoed nervously.

Sensing his unease, Jinx waved him off with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it, Baldy.” She flipped to the next page of her sketchbook and tapped at two older designs. “These are more interesting for ya anyway—Whiskers and Meowzer. They were my first inventions back when I was your age.”

Aang’s interest immediately shifted. “Your first inventions?” He asked, leaning closer to examine the sketches. His grey eyes widened at the designs, which looked far less menacing than her Flame Chompers.

“Yep,” Jinx said, her tone softening just slightly. “They were supposed to be smoke bombs. Nothing fancy—just a quick way to distract someone and make an escape.”

Aang tilted his head, clearly confused. “What’s a smoke bomb?”

“I owe, oh-oh-oh!~

吐き出す前に口をとじろ!

No, oh-oh-oh!~ ”

Jinx glanced at him, momentarily startled by his unfamiliarity with the concept. “It’s…like a little canister that releases a cloud of smoke when you use it. It blinds your enemies for a few seconds so you can get away.”

She paused, watching his face as she explained. “Totally harmless. Just for cover, not for hurting anyone.”

“Ohhh,” Aang said, nodding slowly. He looked back at the sketches with renewed interest. “That’s really clever! Did they work?”

Jinx glanced at him, momentarily before scratching the back of her head. “Not that mine ever worked at the time, they’d just sputter and hiss. Never actually deployed the smoke.”

“Oh,” Aang said, his brow furrowing. “So, they were just…duds?”

“Pretty much,” Jinx admitted with a shrug. “Every time I tried to fix them, something else would go wrong. Either the mechanism would jam, or it would break apart completely.”

Katara smiles. “At least you kept trying. That’s what counts.”

“Yeah, well,” Jinx muttered, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “Trying doesn’t do much when all you have to show for it is a pile of broken gadgets.” her mind trailing off of the thought of Mylo and how she screwed up their jobs too many times. 

“They sound amazing to me,” Aang said earnestly. “Even if they didn’t work. You must’ve been really creative to come up with something like that at such a young age.”

Jinx’s smirk deepened, though she avoided looking at him. “Yeah, well…I was just a kid. It wasn’t a big deal.”

Sokka snorted from the reins. “Hey, I’d take a pile of broken gadgets over a boomerang that won’t come back half the time.”

“Boomerangs always come back!” He snapped, turning to point dramatically at his trusty weapon.

“Does it, though?” Jinx quipped, raising an eyebrow as she flipped her sketchbook shut.

“It does!” Sokka insisted, his face flushing.

Aang smiled. “Maybe you could try fixing them someday. Whiskers and Meowzer, I mean. You never know—it might be fun to give it another try."

Jinx blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion, and for moment, she said nothing, then shrugged. “Yeah…maybe.” she said, her tone unreadable. Leaning back, she let Riot Blast’s music take over mind again, her thoughts swirling with possibilities she wasn’t ready to voice.

“Take-take-take-take, take me to the beach!

Ah-ah-ah, you could have the mountains!

Ah-ah-ah, you take the snow!

Ah-ah-ah, it's way too cold!

My heart is cold enough!

Ah-ah-ah, push comes to shove!

Ah-ah-ah, you could have the mountains!

Ah-ah-ah, I'll take the beach! ”

 Jinx's charcoal hovered over the page as she stared at the unfinished designs for Whiskers and Meowzer, her first inventions. She traced the jagged lines of the smoke bombs, their exaggerated shapes almost cartoonish compared to the sleek, lethal weapons she built now.

They were relics of a time when she hadn’t fully understood how cruel and dangerous her world could be—when she thought ingenuity alone could protect her. Back then, she hadn’t needed her weapons to be deadly.

Powder wasn’t a fighter.

Zaun’s underground was already rough, but she hadn’t truly felt its teeth yet. Whiskers and Meowzer were meant to be clever distractions, tricks to get her out of trouble, not destroy everything around her. They were the inventions of a girl who didn’t yet realize how small and powerless she was against the machines of survival in the Lanes.

But things had changed.

Jinx had grown up fast when she had to, trading childish contraptions for weapons that meant business.

Flame Chompers, Zapper, Pow-Pow, Fishbones, Chomper Twins, and her Monkey Bomb—all of them designed to do one thing: devastate. She couldn’t afford to solely rely on smoke bombs or distractions in the brutal reality of the Underground.

Violence wasn’t just a way to survive—it was her only language; one she had perfected through trial and error.

Sure. She still used smoke bombs as it gave her the higher advantage, it just…not these specific smoke bombs.

Even now, as she sketched, her mind automatically gravitated toward designs with sharp edges, jagged lines, and powerful effects. Her Flame Chompers were a prime example: brutal, explosive, efficient. It was what her world demanded of her.

There was no room for whimsy or failure.

“I'm better off alone! (Better off alone)!

Like a rollin' stone! (Like a rollin' stone)!

Turnin' off my phone! (Off my phone)!

No one bringin' me down, down, down, down!!

Just give me some space! (Just give me some space)!

That sun in my face (Sun in my face)!

And the days go on, and on, and on, and on!

(T-A-K-E, T-A-K-E)! ”

And yet, gripping the black charcoal, she hesitated, Jinx’s thoughts drifted back to Powder’s old smoke bombs. Whiskers and Meowzer weren’t practical for the life she had led. She had abandoned them quickly, dismissing them as failures, not worth the effort of creating more of them anymore...they let her down too many times.

But now…now things are different.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t running, fighting, or hiding in the pit of Zaun. Here, in this strange new world with this strange group of people, she had a moment to just breathe.

And in that stillness, a question clawed its way to the surface of her mind, a thought made her heart ache that she wasn’t ready to admit as she stared down at Powder's smoke bombs.

An aching that maybe, deep down, she missed the girl who had hoped of saving her family, her home—of buidling something to make her family see that she is capable in a world that was anything but.

However, that girl had been naive, and being naive in Zaun got your family killed. But that didn’t stop Jinx from wondering if there was still a piece buried somewhere inside her, waiting to be unearthed.

Jinx’s fingers gripped her charcoal tighter, shaking her head to shake those thoughts away. 'It doesn’t matter.' she decided. 

Flipping the page back to her Flame Chompers design, setting her focus on its jagged edges and mechanical precision. If she let her mind wander too far, she might start to believe in things again she’d sworn to bury—like hope.

Hope had no place in her world. 

Jinx is still a jinx. 

Isha is proof of that. 

Even so, her hand lingered on the edge of the sketchbook, her thoughts pulling her in two directions: the person she had become and the person she might've been if things had been different.

For now on, she chose the former.

It was safer that way.

“I don't have no friends, そう何も, ay! 

Got me 'til the end, 最後まで, ay (Take me to the beach; don't, I'll take the)!

I don't have no friends, そう誰も, ay (Ask anyone)! 

Got me 'til the end, 最後まで (Take me to the beach)! ”

Jinx stared at her sketchbook, her pen circling around the crude designs of Whiskers and Meowzer. She tapped the page absently, her thoughts spiraling deeper as the soft breeze from Appa’s flight brushed against her face.

These designs—her oldest inventions—once been little more than distractions, remnants of a naive girl who thought clever tricks could keep the world at bay.

But maybe they could have a purpose again.

Jinx’s pink eyes flicked toward Aang, who sat cross-legged nearby, chewing thoughtfully on his breakfast. His wide, hopeful grin from earlier still lingered in her mind. He was too kind. Too soft. He didn’t have it in him to make the kind of choices this war would demand of him.

Neither did Katara or Sokka, for that matter.

Jinx scowled and turned back to her sketches, pressing the dark dusty charcoal down harder. That wasn’t a bad thing, she supposed. It was admirable, even, but it was also dangerous.

They had no idea what they were walking into.

Stopping a War wasn’t about just hope and speeches; it was ugly, bloody, and cruel. Jinx had lived through enough to know that the only way to survive was to fight harder, hit first, and make damn sure you didn’t leave yourself vulnerable.

Jinx doubted any of them understood that—not yet. They didn’t have the scars—and she didn’t want them to have scars.

However, it doesn’t matter.

It’s war.

Her hand hesitated as a flicker of memory replayed in her mind. Aang’s eyes, every time he looked at her in that way, filled with that same boundless optimism, her mind, her vision, shifted into another pair—brighter, warmer, but equally naive.

Isha.

The name sent a pang through her chest, her thumb unconsciously digging into the edge of the paper.

Isha had looked at her like that, too, once. Like Jinx was someone worth believing in, someone who could make the world better. Saw her as a Hero. And Jinx had failed her. Failed her so catastrophically that the guilt still tore through her like knives, leaving wounds that refused to close.

Jinx can’t let that happen to Aang.

Jinx’s jaw tightened as her resolve solidified—not for herself, but for him. For them. Aang, Katara, and Sokka didn’t understand the cost of survival yet, but if she could help shoulder some of that burden, she would.

Jinx had no problem being the one to get her hands dirty with more blood.

Whiskers and Meowzer weren’t weapons—not really. They were tools. They could buy time, distract the enemy, and give the team a chance to escape when things got ugly. And they would get ugly; the world will chew up their hope and optimism and spit it out if they weren’t prepared.

With a sigh, she adjusted the design for Whiskers, adding a sturdier casing and a more reliable ignition system. Meowzer, too, would get an overhaul.

Jinx’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile.

If anyone asked, she’d say she was doing it because they were soft and didn’t know better. She's only doing it because she didn’t want Aang and his little band of Do-Gooders to get out of trouble. 

Then, Jinx slowly her brows frowning—a dawning woven feeling in her chest, catching herself as her mouth tugged. ‘Old habits just couldn't stay dead, couldn’t they?’ 

The snow-covered patch of grass crunched beneath their feet as Team Avatar—Aang, Jinx, Katara, Sokka, Appa, and Momo reached the top of a hill.

The crisp morning air carried the scent of snow and earth, mingling with the faint warmth of the rising sun. Aang, practically bouncing with excitement, turned to face the group, spreading his arms wide.

“The Earth Kingdom city of Omashu!” Aang exclaimed, his voice brimming with joy as he gestured toward the sprawling city below.

The view was breathtaking: the pyramid-structured city of Omashu lay nestled against a backdrop of rugged mountains, its intricate architecture a testament to the ingenuity of the Earth Kingdom.

“Wow,” Katara breathed, her eyes wide with awe. “We don’t have buildings like this in the South Pole.”

Sokka, equally astonished, nodded. “Yeah, they’ve got buildings here that don’t melt! Amazing.”

Jinx let out a low whistle, adjusting the strap of her green cloak. “Not bad. Looks like a fortress,” she remarked. Her tone was casual, but there was a hint of admiration in her voice.

Aang, standing with his back to the group, couldn’t contain his excitement. “Let’s go, slow pokes! The real fun’s inside the city!” And without waiting for a response, he leaped forward, bending to gracefully slide down the snowy slope as his laughter echoed through the chilly morning air.

Katara’s smile faltered and hurried after him, stretching out her arm. “Wait, Aang! It could be dangerous if people find out you’re the Avatar!”

Sokka nodded, adding in a serious tone. “Yeah, you need a disguise. And while we’re at it…” Turning to Jinx, squinting at her, “You too, Glow Eyes. You stick out like a sore thumb.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “What? I’ve got the cloak. That’s plenty.”

“Not enough.” Sokka countered, gesturing to her vividly blue hair peeking out from the hood, “It’s not exactly…low-profile.”

“Oh please,” Jinx shot back, smirking. “And your little wolf-tail isn’t exactly stealthy either, Boomerang Boy.” 

Sokka’s face flushed as he reached back, patting his wolf-tail defensively. “Hey, this is a warrior’s mark of pride, not some glowing sign!” he shot back, bristling.

Jinx snorted, clearly pleased with herself. “Mm-hm.” she teased, twirling a loose strand of her blue braid for emphasis.

Sokka opened his mouth for a retort, then snapped it shut with a huff. “Point is,” he grumbled, tugging his parka tighter, “we’re trying to not get chased across another kingdom. So maybe—just maybe—you could try not standing out so much.”

Rolling her pink eyes, Jinx relented. “Fine. I’ve got some spare clothes in my bag, but there’s no way I’m changing out here in the freezing cold.”

Sokka pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling hard through his teeth. “Jinx, this isn’t about comfort—it’s about survival. We can’t afford for people to point and whisper the second we walk into a city."

The smirk faded from Jinx’s lips, though her posture stayed relaxed, feigning nonchalance. “Relax, Boomerang. I’ll blend. No one’s looking that close.”

Aang jumped into the conversation, waving a hand. “The cloak should be okay for now. But Sokka’s got a point. When we’re deeper into Earth Kingdom territory, we might have to blend in better—especially when we travel far out, we don’t want to attract anymore Fire Nation’s attention.”

Aang then glanced at Appa thoughtfully, a grin spreading across his face. "Speaking of disguises, I think I have an idea..."

Standing beside Appa, Aang now sported a ridiculous mustache and tall wig made of Appa’s shed fur. Aang groaned, scratching underneath the itchy wig. “Ugh, this is so uncomfortable. Appa, how do you live in this stuff?”

Appa huffed loudly in response, his tail flicking as if to say, ‘Don’t drag me into this.’

Sokka and Jinx sat nearby on a rock, observing the scene as Katara stood beside them, arms crossed, a skeptical look on her face at Aang's disguise.

“Great. Now you look just like my grandfather.” Sokka remarked. 

Katara smiled. “Technically, Aang is 112 years old, so…”

Jinx leaned back on her hands, pink eyes glittering as she sized up Aang’s disguise. “Oh, perfect. A walking antique with a fake mustache. No one will ever suspect you’re the Avatar.”

Sokka snorted. “Right?"

Unfazed, Aang grabbed his staff, spun it dramatically, and planted it in the snow like a cane before hunching over. “Now let’s get to skippin’, young whipper-snappers. The big city awaits!” he exclaimed with an elderly man’s voice.

Jinx dryly, twirling a strand of her braid. “Seriously, Baldy, you sneeze once and that wig’s gonna take off like a flying bison of its own.”

Appa rumbled in what almost sounded like agreement, flicking his tail again.

Katara sighed, though her lips tugged upward despite herself. “It’s not the worst idea. But maybe…a little less fur?”

Jinx smirked. “Nah, keep it. I’m dying to see the looks on people’s faces when Grandpa Savior strolls into town.”

Aang groaned, tugging at the itchy wig. “You guys aren’t helping.”

Jinx just grinned wider, resting her chin in her palm. “Oh, but I am, Baldy. I’m helping your cover story. Nothing’s more distracting than a little man rocking a mustache made out of his own pet.”

Sokka barked out a laugh. “She’s right, you know. I mean, if anyone asks, what are you supposed to say? ‘Oh, this? Just some premium Appa weave, straight from the source.’” He made a sweeping gesture like a salesman showing off fine fabric.

Aang groaned louder, tugging at the wig. “You guys are the worst.”

“Hey,” Sokka said, still grinning. “—that thing’s got layers of authenticity. Who else can say their disguise was hand-spun by a sky bison?”

“Pretty sure ‘authentic’ isn’t the goal,” Katara muttered, though her smile gave her away.

Jinx stretched out on the rock, smirking lazily. “Relax, Grandpa Savior. Between the wig, the mustache, and your little shuffle, nobody’s gonna look close enough to notice the blue arrow on your head.”

Sokka snorted again. “Yeah, unless the wig falls off mid-sneeze.”

“Which it will,” Jinx added, smirking wider.

Aang straightened, squinting over the top of his “mustache” with exaggerated offense. “Ha-ha, very funny. For your information, this wig is secure. Strong as Appa’s loyalty, sturdy as Sokka’s ego—”

Sokka frowned. “Hey!”

“—and dignified as Katara’s patience.” Aang gave an overdone elderly cough, hunching forward again with his “cane.” “Now pipe down, you hooligans. Grandpa Savior’s takin’ you to town, whether you like it or not.”

Aang hunched further, dragging his staff along the ground with a dramatic scrape as if it weighed ten times more than it did. He squinted toward Omashu, his voice creaking dramatically. “Back in my day, kids didn’t sass their elders. Nooo sir, we respected our sky bison wigs and we liked it!”

Sokka pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t make him worse.”

But Aang wasn’t stopping. He shuffled a few steps, muttering loud enough for them to hear. “These young whipper-snappers…no respect for their elders. Always talkin’ back, makin’ fun of a perfectly respectable mustache. Why, when I was your age—” He broke off into a fake hacking cough, leaning dramatically on his staff. “—ohhh, the arthritis!”

Jinx barked out a laugh. “Oh, great, he’s actually committing.”

“Too much,” Katara said, smiling.

Aang waggled a finger at them, his gray eyes twinkling with mischief beneath the ridiculous wig. “Mark my words, children. You’ll thank Grandpa Savior when this disguise fools every last Fire Nation soldier out there.”

Appa gave a loud, skeptical huff, tail flicking.

“Except you, Appa,” Aang added in his fake-old voice, patting his side. “You’re still my sweet boy.”

The group nearing Omashu’s gates, they walked down the long path as Omashu’s towering walls loomed closer.

Aang turned to his friends, a smile lighting up his face. “You guys are going to love Omashu. The people here are the friendliest in the world!”

Before anyone could respond, a harsh voice cut through the air. “Rotten cabbages?!”

The group stopped dead in their tracks, their heads snapping toward the commotion. Near the gate stood a cabbage merchant, pleading with three stern-looking guards.

“What kind of slum do you think this is?!” one guard barked, smashing a cabbage in his hands. He Earthbent a slab of rock beneath the merchant’s cart, launching it high into the air as the cart tumbled down the chasm with all its contents.

The guard Earthbent the rock beneath the merchant’s cart as Jinx froze in place, her sharp pink eyes widening. She instinctively reached for her Zap in her gun strap around her waist, hidden under her green cloak as her mind raced to make sense of what she had just witnessed. 

The ground itself had moved—shifting and launching with precision, as if it were alive. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bags over her shoulders, the weight of her inventions and personal items grounding her in this moment of disbelief.

“No! My cabbages!” the merchant wailed, leaning over the edge dramatically as a loud crash echoed from below.

“What was that?” Jinx muttered under her breath, her voice low but sharp.

The others didn’t seem nearly as fazed—Aang was too busy wincing at the cabbage cart’s dramatic fall, and Katara and Sokka exchanged concerned glances, but Jinx’s gaze remained fixed on the guard, watching him with a mix of wariness and awe.

This wasn’t like the Hextech magic she knew, nor like airbending, which she still had yet to master. Whenever that was gonna be. This was… something else entirely. Something raw and untamed, yet so deliberate. She hated to admit it, but it was impressive.

Jinx quirked an eyebrow, glancing at Aang. “Friendliest in the world, huh?” she said dryly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Aang winced, his wide smile turning sheepish. “Just…keep smiling,” he whispered, leading the group as they slowly approached the guards.

Jinx gripping on her bags loosened slightly as she muttered to herself. “Guess they weren’t kidding about bending all the elements here.” She tilted her head, her curiosity beginning to creep in past her initial shock.

Jinx took a step closer to Aang and murmured, “So, they can just…control rocks like that?”

Aang nodded, his tone calm but cheerful. “Yep! That’s Earthbending. The Earth Kingdom is full of benders like him.”

Jinx’s lips pressed into a thin line. She glanced back at the guard, who was still glaring at the distraught cabbage merchant. “Huh. Wish I could’ve used that back in the Underground,” She muttered, almost to herself, before stepping back into formation with the group.

They moved toward the gate, Jinx’s gaze lingered on the guard, her mind already turning over the possibilities of what she had just seen.

Katara and Sokka exchanged uneasy glances while Jinx adjusted her cloak, her face neutral but her pink eyes sharp. They stepped up to the guards, the atmosphere felt tense, the weight of being outsiders heavy on their shoulders.

Aang strolled confidently toward the guards, Katara attempted an awkward chuckle, flashing her teeth nervously, while Sokka raised an incredulous eyebrow. Meanwhile, Jinx looked on with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

The Earthbender at the gate stepped forward, his expression stern as he slammed a foot into the ground and raised a massive boulder out of the earth. He levitated it above his head, his sharp glare locking onto Aang.

Jinx’s muscles tensed, her hand instinctively gripping the handle of her Zip. The sheer strength and precision it took to lift that boulder left her stunned, but the threatening posture of the guard made her bristle. Her pink eyes narrowed, ready to intervene if things went south.

“State your business!” the guard barked.

Before Jinx could draw her weapon, Aang darted forward, slipping right underneath the hovering boulder. He stopped directly in front of the startled guard, who barely had time to react.

In a gravelly old-man voice, Aang jabbed a finger into the sentry’s chest, his tone mocking yet authoritative, “My business is my business, young man—and none of yours! ”

The guard flinched back in surprise, losing his concentration as the boulder crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, sending tremors through the ground making Katara and Sokka yelp, jumping slightly from the impact as dirt scattered into the air.

Katara’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she shook her head in astonishment. Sokka, meanwhile, stared slack-jawed, utterly flabbergasted by Aang’s audacity.

Jinx froze for a moment, her hand still hovering over her Zip’s handle. Then, the absurdity of what she had just witnessed hit her. She covered her mouth with her gloved hand, stifling a laugh that threatened to escape, shoulders shook as she tried to suppress the sound, but her glowing pink eyes sparkled with unrestrained amusement.

The guard’s face flushed with a mix of anger and bewilderment.

Aang leaned in closer, wagging a finger right in his face. “I’ve got half a mind to bend you over my knee and paddle your backside! ” the young Avatar added, his old-man act in full swing.

Jinx couldn’t hold it in any longer, a muffled snort escaped her lips, and she turned her head away, biting her glove to avoid bursting into full laughter.

“Is he for real?” she muttered under her breath, her voice tinged with both disbelief and grudging admiration.

The guard stepped back, flustered by Aang’s unexpected sass.

Meanwhile, Katara pressed her palm to her forehead, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, and Sokka stared on in stunned silence, still processing what had just unfolded.

The guard, his tone softening as if recalling his own ‘old timer’ back home, waved a hand to calm the situation. “Settle down, old timer! Just tell me who you are,” he said, sighing, clearly not wanting to escalate things further.

Aang, Katara and Sokka were still frozen in shock, but without missing a beat the Avatar didn't hesitate. 

Aang straightened up slightly and declared in his best old-man voice. “Name’s Bonzu Pippinpaddleopsicopolis, the third!”

Jinx bit her lip hard, trying desperately not to burst into laughter, shoulders trembled with the effort. “A…uh…a very distinguished name, for sure.” She weakly chimed in, playing along.

Aang extended his arms dramatically toward the trio behind him, gesturing as if presenting them. “And these are my grandkids!”

Sokka raised an incredulous eyebrow, his expression practically screaming. ‘What are you even doing?’

Meanwhile, Katara stepped forward with a nervous yet friendly smile, waving at the guard. “Hi! I’m June Pippinpaddleopsicopolis. Nice to meet you!”

Jinx nearly lost it right then and there as she inhaled sharply to suppress her laughter and then reluctantly stepped forward.

“And I’m…” She coughed into her hand, trying to hide her grin. “Jinx PippinpaddleOpsiCopolis.” She paused for a second, almost choking on the ridiculous name before finishing with a barely controlled snort.

The guard squinted at the group, rubbing his beard thoughtfully as he studied them. After a long, pensive pause, he pointed at Katara. “You seem like a responsible young lady. See that your grandfather stays out of trouble. Enjoy Omashu!”

Jinx’s amusement instantly turned to offense. “Responsible?” she mumbled under her breath with a frown, glaring at the guard as he turned away. “Guess that makes me chopped liver. Or maybe the ‘wild grandkid who starts trouble.’ Sure, that works too.”

Sokka finally snapped out of his dumbfounded silence, his face twisting into a grin as he elbowed Jinx lightly in the side. “Wild grandkid? Oh yeah, that’s definitely you. You’ve got the whole ‘chaotic heir to the cabbage throne’ look going already.”

Jinx whipped her glowing eyes toward him, frowning. “Chaotic what now?”

Sokka just smirked, folding his arms with mock seriousness. “Hey, don’t blame me. You basically glow in the dark. Trouble finds you.” He smirked, leaning closer with a whisper. “Face it, if Grandpa over here really had grandkids, you’d be the one start something and probably blaming it on Momo.”

Jinx snorted, crossing her arms. “Please. If I did it, I wouldn’t have to blame it on anyone. Everyone would already know it was me.”

“See?” Sokka said, gesturing at her like he’d just proven his point. “Exhibit A: the wild grandkid who starts trouble.”

Jinx rolled her eyes and muttered. “Oh, you’re hilarious, Boomerang Boy.”

“Thanks,” Sokka said, puffing his chest a little as if he’d just won. “I’ll be here all week—oh wait, never mind.”

That earned him a muffled snicker from Jinx despite herself, though she covered it quickly with a scoff.

Katara rolled her eyes at their bickering, nudging Aang forward, “Come on, Bonzu. Let’s just get inside before we blow our cover.”

Team Avatar moving forward towards the gates, but before they could get there the guard grabs Sokka's shoulder halts his tracks. "Wait a minute!” the guard barked, turning Sokka around to face him with wide blue eyes. 

Jinx’s hand instinctively went to the handle of her Zap, ready to draw, while Katara and Aang spun around in alarm.

The guard eyed Sokka up and down, his expression stern. “You’re a strong young boy!” he said, his tone firm. “Show some respect for the elderly and carry your grandfather’s bag!”

Then he turned to Jinx, pointing at the two bulging bags slung over her shoulders. “—and what’s this? Your sister’s carrying all the load while you’re just waltzing in empty-handed? What, your arms too delicate for ya?”

Jinx barely stifled a laugh, her smile breaking free at the sight of Sokka’s expression shifting from fear to disbelief, and then to sheer annoyance.

Aang, ever the opportunist, removed the bag slung over his shoulder. In his best old man voice, he cheerfully added, “Good idea!” before tossing the bag at Sokka, who barely had time to react.

The bag smacked Sokka square in the head before landing heavily in his arms. He shot Aang a glare over his shoulder, his irritation palpable. “Thanks a lot, Grandpa.”

Jinx finally let out a snicker, her pink eyes glinting with amusement. “Looks like you’re finally pulling your weight, Mr. Boomerang,” she teased, adjusting her bags with ease as she strode forward.

“Pulling my weight?!” Sokka snapped, his voice cracking with indignation. “I’ve been pulling my weight! I hunt, I pack, I gather firewood, I keep us alive and warm—and now I’m the official pack mule too?!” Sokka muttered under his breath, grumbling as he hoisted Aang’s bag along with his own. “Of all the ridiculous—"

Jinx smirked, strolling ahead without missing a beat. “Yup. Congratulations on the promotion.”

Sokka’s jaw dropped. “Promotion?! This is demotion! I went from warrior to luggage boy in five seconds flat!”

“Luggage boy with very delicate arms,” Jinx said sweetly, just to twist the knife as she walked pass him. 

Sokka groaned loud enough for half the Earth Kingdom to hear, muttering as he trudged after them, “This disguise is officially the worst idea ever.”

Aang, still in “grandpa mode,” shuffled along with his cane-staff, cheerfully humming, “Strong back builds character, young man!”

Sokka shot them both a look that promised retribution later.

Katara, walking just behind them, pressed her lips together, doing a poor job of hiding her smile. She pretended to be studying the walls of Omashu ahead, but her eyes sparkled with quiet amusement. Watching her brother flail under Jinx’s relentless teasing—while Aang piled on with his ridiculous old-man act—was more entertaining than she’d ever admit out loud.

She folded her arms, shoulders shaking just slightly as she stifled a laugh, letting Sokka squirm without swooping in to rescue him.

The group ventured forwards nearing the large wall adorned with the Earth Kingdom emblem. Suddenly, the giant earthen wall split open down the middle, revealing the city within, guards bending the gates wider, the second and third layers sliding apart with precision. Katara, Sokka, and Jinx stood in awe, watching the massive gates revealing the bustling streets of Omashu.

"Wow,” Katara breathed, her voice filled with wonder.

Even Jinx, ever the cynic, gave a low whistle of appreciation. “Gotta hand it to them…that’s some serious craftsmanship.”

Aang smiled, pleased by their reactions.

The group walked through the gates; Momo’s ears suddenly popped out from under Aang’s wig as the gate guard, catching sight of the movement, squinted suspiciously as the gates began to close behind them. He tried to keep his eyes on the group, but the massive stone doors shut with a heavy thud, blocking them from view.

Inside, Aang chuckled as he reached up to pat his wig, pushing Momo’s ears back in. “Stay hidden, buddy,” he whispered with a grin.

Jinx smirked, shaking her head. “Smooth, Gramps. Real smooth.”

With the gates fully closed, the group stood at the entrance to Omashu, ready to explore the grand city and as Jinx followed along, still grumbling under her breath but unable to suppress a faint smirk as she glanced at Aang.

“Bonzu Pippinpaddleopsicopolis,” She muttered, shaking her head. “I’ll give it to you, Baldy…you’re something else.”

Aang turned to her with a grin as wide as the horizon. “Pretty great name, huh?” he said, puffing up his chest proudly seeing that he made her choke in her own laughter trying the best she could not to break into a whole laughing fit. 

Jinx raised a brow, trying to keep her amused expression in check. “I’ll admit,”

Aang gave her a playful wink. “I thought it sounded distinguished. You know, classy. Perfect for an old-timer like me.” He hunched over his staff again and shuffled forward, mockingly imitating an old man, “Back in my day, we didn’t have all these fancy disguises! We just used good ol’ charm to fool people!”

Jinx chuckled despite herself, shaking her head. “Charm, huh? Well, you’ve got that in abundance, Bonzu. But don’t push it too far. Your name sounds like a sneeze someone tried to turn into a sentence.”

Aang laughed, twirling his staff like a walking stick. “Hey, at least it worked! And you went along with it! Jinx Pippinpaddleopsicopolis—you really sold it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jinx muttered, though her lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Let’s just hope I don’t have to say it again or I might actually choke on it.”

Aang grinned back, a sparkle of joy in his eyes. “Well, if we’re lucky, no one will question the mighty Pippinpaddleopsicopolis family!”

Behind them, Sokka groaned. “Can we just go before they throw us out for being weird?”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “Too late for that.” With a shrug, then glanced at Aang. “Come on, Grampa Savior, lead the way. Let’s see how long we can keep this charade going.”

Aang gave a mock salute (mimicking Jinx had done a few days prior). “Don’t worry, Grandkid Jinx, this old man’s got it covered.” With that, he shuffled forward, holding back a chuckle as the group followed him toward the gate.

Sokka and Katara stood still, their faces lighting up with excitement as they took in the sprawling city before them. The grandiose design of Omashu was unlike anything they’d ever seen.

“This…is amazing,” Katara said, her voice brimming with awe.

“Whoa,” Sokka breathed, his eyes scanning every detail. “Now this is what I call a city!”

Aang pulled up beside them, equally thrilled. Momo’s head popped out of his wig entirely, his big ears twitching as he curiously surveyed the scene. The Airbender leaned forward, joining the siblings in mouth-open gazing at the magnificent view.

Jinx, still carrying her bags, glanced at Aang out of the corner of her eye. Without breaking her awestruck expression, she reached out and casually pushed Momo back down into Aang’s wig.

“Stay hidden, fuzzball,” She muttered, her tone half-serious, half-amused, then returned her attention to the cityscape, her pink eyes wide with curiosity and wonder.

It was hard not to admire this kingdom’s artistry and engineering of the place. The streets teemed with people bustling about their daily lives. Market stalls lined the roads, their vibrant goods on display.

The group’s eyes naturally drifted upward, taking in the intricate system of chutes weaving through the city.

The aqueduct-like structures, suspended high above the streets and buildings, crisscrossed the skyline. Built from stone, the chutes curved and looped with precise craftsmanship, snaking through the rooftops of houses adorned with the typical green tiles of the Earth Kingdom.

Katara tilted her head, marveling at the design. “Look at that…it’s a massive delivery system.”

Sokka scratched his chin, intrigued.

Aang, grinning ear to ear, cut in with excitement, he exclaimed, spinning around to face the group; “This is Omashu’s delivery system! It’s the most fun ride in the entire city!”

“Ride?” Jinx raised an eyebrow, looking at Aang skeptically.  

Aang smirked mischievously. “Oh, they’re for crates all right. But trust me, you’re gonna love it!”

Jinx squinted at him, not unconvinced but very much intrigued, while Sokka and Katara exchanged curious glances before the group took a moment longer to admire the scenery, the blend of architectural ingenuity and bustling city life filling them with a sense of anticipation for what lay ahead.

The group continued walking through the city, they came across a bustling platform where Earthbenders stood at work beside a series of chutes. One earthen cart, filled with packages, slid out of view just as another cart filled with vegetables moved into position. A cart passed by an Earthbender, he bent the stone beneath it, shifting its direction with precision.

The cart glided forward toward another Earthbender, who bent it up a tube with a firm motion as two more Earthbenders at the top received it, their movements synchronized. One of them quickly bent stone lintels beneath the cart to stop it from falling back down as the other thrust it off the platform, sending it hurtling down a chute at high speed.

Aang, noticing the group’s curiosity, explained. “Earthbending brings the packages up, and gravity brings them down.”

Sokka crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Great. So they get their mail on time.”

Aang turned to him, his grin widening. “They do get their mail on time!”

Sokka rolled his eyes, but Aang wasn’t done. “—but my friend Bumi found…” he squinted mischievously, “…a better use for these chutes.”

A young Bumi stood overlooking the city, his eccentric posture and wide smile instantly radiating his energy. Aang, younger and carefree, walked up behind him.

Bumi spun around excitedly, his wild brown hair bouncing with his movement,  “Look around you!” he exclaimed, gesturing at the sprawling city, “What do you see?”

Aang tilted his head, unsure, “Um… the mail system?”

Bumi pointed a finger in the air, his expression serious yet lively,  “Instead of seeing what they want you to see,” he said, leaning closer to Aang, “—you’ve got to open your brain to the possibilities.”

Aang furrowed his brow, still confused,  “A… package-sending system?”

Bumi laughed, stepping back with a flourish as he gestured toward the start of one of the chutes, “The world’s greatest superslide!”

Aang’s eyes lit up as a wide grin spread across his face.

“Bumi, you’re a mad genius!” Aang exclaimed.

Bumi chuckled with his signature odd snort, pulling Aang by the hand.

The flashback cut to Aang and Bumi riding a cart down the “superslide,” the wind rushing through, as they laughed uncontrollably. Bumi threw his hands in the air with reckless abandon while Aang mirrored his excitement.

 

The memory began to fade, the bright and vibrant trees of the city blurring and shifting. Back in the present day, now aged and snow-covered. The trees that once flourished with green leaves stood bare and withered, a silent echo of the past.

Aang’s expression softened, his nostalgia lingering for just a moment before he turned back to his friends with a fond smile when he finished telling his memory to his friends.

Jinx stood slightly apart from the group, her arms crossed as she watched him with an unreadable expression.

Sokka shook his head slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already bracing for disaster. “Of course. Of course the great Earth Kingdom engineering marvel totally isn’t for mail or trade or, I don’t know, useful things. Nope. It’s a giant slide. Figures.”

Katara shot him a look. “Sokka…”

“What?” He said, throwing his arms out. “We’re talking about shooting ourselves down stone tubes at breakneck speeds in carts! Sounds like a great way to get a concussion.”

Aang just grinned, rocking on his heels. “Or sounds like the most fun you’ll ever have.”

Jinx smirked, tilting her head. “Gotta admit, Boomerang Boy, sounds a lot better than watching you sulk on solid ground.” Her glowing pink eyes glinted mischievously. “At least if we crash, you’ll have a good excuse for that stick up your—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Katara cut in quickly, glaring at her.

Jinx just raised her hands innocently, grin never wavering.

Sokka groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I can’t believe I’m surrounded by maniacs. One wants to slide us into oblivion, and the other’s rooting for it.”

“Correction,” Jinx said, leaning against the railing of the platform as another cart rocketed past. “I’m rooting for the crash. Always more exciting when things blow up at the end.”

Aang’s grin only widened. “You’re gonna love Omashu.”

Katara sighed, torn between awe at the city and dread for what she knew was coming. 

Jinx’s glowing pink eyes remained fixed on Aang’s face, studying him closely, her thoughts conflicted. ‘A hundred years ago…this kid had a life here, friends, adventures. It’s all gone now, isn’t it?’

She glanced at the snow-covered trees in the distance, her gaze narrowing. The vibrancy Aang described in his story was long gone, replaced with the reality of a war-torn world.

Time long passed.

'Why bother reminiscing about something you can’t ever have again?’ She thought bitterly, yet another part of her, one she wasn’t willing to acknowledge, felt a pang of sadness. Jinx knew all too well what it was like to think back to a brighter time only to be crushed by the present.

Jinx shifted her stance, pretending to focus on the Earthbenders working the chutes, her mind lingered on Aang’s carefree smile during the story. ‘How could he still hold onto that innocence, that optimism, after everything? ’

Jinx’s lips twitched in a faint, almost imperceptible smirk as she muttered under her breath. “Mad genius, huh? Sounds like someone I used to know.”

Despite her sarcastic tone, there was no venom in her voice—just a quiet resignation. Aang’s fondness for his friend Bumi lingered in the air, she found herself feeling an odd sense of respect...at least he hasn’t completely given up.

Jinx wasn’t about to get all sentimental like the others, but for a brief moment she allowed herself to remember her past friend.

‘Ekko.’

Jinx exhaled, tightening her hold of her bags before Aang's voice brought her back to reality, watching how Aang’s gray eyes gleamed as another cart rocketed down the chute, vanishing into the winding stone labyrinth below.

“Come on, you guys. We have to ride the chutes!” He turned back to his friends, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

"No, we're not doing that." Sokka replied. 

“Come on,” Aang urged, bouncing on his toes. “You’ve got to try this. It’s tradition!” Aang spread his arms toward the chutes. “This is the best part of the city. The mail system’s just the cover story.”

“Tradition?” Sokka repeated flatly. “You mean your tradition of launching yourself into certain death?”

“It’s safe,” Aang promised, holding up his hands as if to calm him. “I’ve done it a hundred times.”

“Yeah—a hundred years ago!” Sokka shot back, throwing up his hands. “Things break down, Aang! Things get old!!”

Aang only smirked, completely unfazed. “You’re just scared you won’t be able to keep up.”

Sokka crossed his arms. “No, I’m scared we’ll be splat of raw meat on concrete."

Jinx snorted, clearly enjoying herself. “I don’t know, Boomerang Boy. Sounds like an upgrade from the traveling circus we’ve got going on.” Her pink eyes sparkled as she glanced at Aang. “I’m in. Let’s see what you’ve got, Baldy.”

Sokka’s head snapped toward her. “You’re in?!”

Jinx shrugged, her lips curling into a slow grin. “Sure. Why not? Worst case, I break my neck. Best case, you scream like a little kid. Win-win.”

Sokka’s jaw dropped. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re boring,” she shot back without missing a beat.

Sokka sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Aang, this is a terrible idea. We’re trying to blend in, remember?”

“Oh, please.” Jinx twirled a strand of her braid. “Nothing screams ‘blending in’ like Grandpa Savior and his three perfect little grandkids acting like model citizens.”

Aang tilted his head toward Katara, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “Come on, Katara. When’s the last time we did something just for fun?"

Katara hesitated, then her eyes flicked to Sokka. He was already shaking his head like a man at his own funeral.

“No,” Sokka said flatly. “No way. Not happening.”

Katara tilted her head, curiosity creeping into her voice. “I mean…it does look kind of fun.”

Sokka spun to her, betrayed. “Katara!”

“What? It does!” She said, her cheeks pinking a little. “We’ve been flying on Appa for days. Wouldn’t hurt to…do something different.”

“Oh no,” Sokka muttered, rubbing his temple. “I know that look. That’s the ‘I’m about to make a terrible decision’ look.”

Jinx sauntered up beside Aang, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “I say we do it.”

Sokka whirled on her. “Of course, you say we do it.”

Jinx drops her bags on the ground, folded her arms, stepping closer. “You really going to pass up bragging rights. You can’t call yourself a warrior if you’re too scared to ride a mail chute, Boomerang.”

Sokka’s face turned red. “I’m not scared!”

“Prove it,” Jinx teased, leaning in with a sly grin.

Aang clapped his hands together, already running toward the loading platform. “Great! It’s settled. We’re all riding the chute!”

“Wait, wait, wait—” Sokka started, but Aang had already started dragging him by the sleeve toward an empty cart. Katara followed with a nervous laugh, while Jinx just sauntered after them, her bag swung over her shoulder, grin growing with every step.

“Don’t worry, Grandpa Savior,” Jinx called after Aang, “If we crash, at least you’ll go out doing what you love—being ridiculous.”

Sokka twisted back to glare at her, his voice cracking as Aang tugged harder. “This is a bad idea!”

Jinx only chuckled, her glowing eyes sparkling. “The best kind.”

“It’s happening!” Aang said excitedly, tugging Sokka by the sleeve toward an empty cart.

“Wait—what—no!” Sokka sputtered, digging in his heels, which Jinx helpfully shoved him into the cart, dropping her bags inside before hopping herself into the cart behind them, her green cloak flaring out as she plopped down with a smirk.

Katara, still torn, glanced at Aang’s hopeful expression, then at Sokka’s panic and Jinx’s smug grin. With a resigned sigh, she climbed into the next cart.

Aang grinned, jumping into the lead cart with his staff. “Trust me! You’re all gonna love this!” He said excitedly, Momo perched on his head.

Sokka clutched the edge of the cart like it might save his life. “I already hate this!”

Jinx’s pink eyes glinted with anticipation. “I’m starting to like it already.”

At the top of the slope, the heads of Aang, Jinx, Katara, and Sokka peek over the rim as they sit in a mail cart.

Sokka glances down the steep chute and immediately regrets it, the dizzying height making his stomach lurch. “This is insane! Do you realize how high up we are?" His voice trembles slightly despite his effort to sound composed. "If this thing crashes, we’re done for!” 

Jinx leans back with a smirk, crossing her arms as she eyes him. “Aww, what’s wrong, Boomerang Boy? Scared of a little slide?”

Sokka sputters, his face reddening. “I’m not scared! I’m just…being practical!” Despite his protest, his knuckles remain white as he clutches the cart’s edge.

“This s-sounded like fun at first," Katara stammered, equally unsettled feeling dizzy as she stares down the slope. "But now that I see how steep it is, I-I’m starting to have second thoughts.”

Jinx with a mischievous grin. “Too little, too late, toots!” And pushes Aang forward, leaning into the motion herself and tilting the cart just enough to send it hurtling down the slope.

Katara lets out a panicked scream.

Sokka shouts, “Are you crazy?!”

“Hold on!” Aang yelled cheerfully.

Sokka’s scream echoed off instantly.

Jinx threw her head back and laughed, the sound wild and unrestrained as the wind tore past them as her hood falls off and her twin braids fly wildly in the wind. Sitting behind Aang, her pink eyes shimmer with excitement as she grips the cart’s edges.

Momo, still perched on Aang’s head and gripping his wig, squeaks in protest as the wind rushes past, while Aang laughs and cheers alongside Jinx, clearly enjoying himself.

The cart zips along the chute, gaining speed as it rounds a sharp curve until a parallel chute comes into view, carrying a cart loaded with spears. For a moment, both carts are side by side, and the group stares silently at the ominous cargo as the tracks merge, the spear-laden cart ends up right behind them, quickly gaining ground.

Sokka glances back, his eyes widening in terror as the spears rattle ominously. “This is bad—this is really ,really bad!” he shouts, ducking just in time to avoid being skewered.

Katara turns as well, her face pale. “Aang, do something!”

“On it!” Aang shouts excitedly. “Jinx, follow my lead!”

The two Airbenders rock the cart back and forth, their movements perfectly synchronized. With a final push, the cart launches off the chute and onto a rooftop, skidding along as the tiles shatter beneath them.

Jinx whoops loudly, her pink eyes glowing with exhilaration. “This is AMAZING!” She shouts, her heart pounding in her chest as adrenaline courses through her veins—her Airbending instinctively kicks in, pushing them forward even faster.

Sokka curses loudly, clutching the sides of the cart.

Katara screams. “Stop this thing! We’re gonna die!”

“Let’s go faster!!” Jinx exclaimed excitedly as her pink eyes bright.

Aang, grinning ear to ear, replies. “Great idea! Let’s go even faster!” He bending the air behind them, causing the cart to pick up more speed.

“No! I meant—STOP!” Katara shrieks.

The cart barrels through the city, narrowly avoiding collisions and leaving chaos in its wake. At one point, it smashes through a craftsman’s house, destroying a freshly completed vase as the cart rockets out the other side.

Aang calls out. “Sorry!”

Jinx, laughing uncontrollably, shouts. “Not sorry!”

The cart eventually careens off a parapet, dropping straight down before landing in a heap, and then—CRASH!—they crash into a cabbage merchant’s cart with wood splintering, vegetables flying like shrapnel as everyone tumbled out in a heap, limbs tangled, the smell of crushed greens filling the air.

Jinx landed half-sprawled across the pile, coughing out a laugh. “That. Was. AWESOME! We should do that again!” as she blinked through green leaves stuck to her braids her pink eyes gleaming.

Aang popped up a moment later, grinning sheepishly, while Katara groaned, pulling a cabbage leaf from her hair, and at the very bottom of the pile, crushed beneath his friends and the wreckage is Sokka.

“...I hate…everything…” Sokka’s muffled voice wheezed in pure misery.

Jinx tilted her head, her glowing pink eyes narrowing in wicked amusement as she climbed off him. She dusted herself off, brushing away bits of cabbage, then patted Sokka’s shoulder like she was doing him a favor.

“Nice work, Boomerang Boy,” Jinx quipped with a lopsided grin. “Thanks for softening the landing.”

Sokka’s head shot up, his face smeared with cabbage guts and pure outrage. “SOFTENING THE—?!” He sputtered, gesturing wildly at the carnage. “I just had three hundred pounds of cabbage and you people crush me into the pavement!”

Aang chuckled nervously, helping Katara to her feet. “Look on the bright side, Sokka. We’re all okay!” Momo floats down gracefully, landing on Aang’s shoulder, looking thoroughly unbothered.

“Speak for yourself,” Sokka grumbled, wincing as he pried a wooden splinter stalk out of his tunic.

“Still alive, don't be a party pooper.” Jinx muttered under her breath, as she plucked a cabbage leaf out of her braid and stuck it behind her ear like a flower.

Before Sokka could retort, a heart-wrenching wail rose from behind them. The cabbage merchant collapsed to his knees in the wreckage of what had once been a respectable cart. His hands pawed helplessly at the ruined vegetables, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“MY CABBAGES!!" 

Katara groans pulling a piece of broken wood from her hair. “What I'm starting to think is that we need to stop listening to Aang’s crazy plans! And you,” she points an accusing finger at Jinx, “-are not helping!”

Jinx shrugs, utterly unfazed. “Oh, come on, Toots, don’t pretend that wasn’t at least a little fun.”

Katara glare intensifies. “FUN?! We destroyed half the city! This isn’t a joke, Jinx! We could have died!!” 

"Are you kidding me?! I told you! This was worst idea EVER!” Sokka sits up, looking utterly exasperated as he waves a piece of cabbage off his face, shooting glares at Aang. “What were you even thinking?!”

Before Aang can defend himself, guards rush in, surrounding them with spears. “You’re all coming with us!” 

“Fantastic,” Jinx mutters, picking up her scattered bags. “Arrested for cabbage crimes. That’s a new one.”

Aang’s nervous smile falters as he adjusts his now-ruined wig, his Airbender tattoos shining through. “Uh…I can explain?” He offers weakly.

Jinx, completely unfazed, twirling a piece of broken cabbage in her fingers.

Sokka throws up his hands, groaning. “I hate this. I hate all of this, now we're going to jail.” as the guards close in.

Jinx snickers under her breath standing up. “Relax, Boomerang Boy. This is what I call a good time!” as the guards surrounded them, their weapons at the ready.

Jinx cracked her knuckles with a mischievous smirk. “You know, I was hoping today would get a little more exciting. Thanks for delivering.”

Aang tugged on her sleeve frantically. “Jinx, no! We can’t just—”

“Relax, Baldy. I’m just adding a little spice to the party.” Jinx ignored him, yanking her trusty Zip Gun from her belt, a crude but effective weapon gleamed in the sunlight as she took aim.

With a sharp click, glowing bright blue projectiles shot out of the barrel, zipping through the air before colliding with the ground in front of the guards. The resulting loud BANGS that sent them stumbling back as smoke and sparks erupted, causing a momentary chaos.

“Are you insane?!” Katara yelled, coughing as the smoke rolled toward them.

Jinx grinned, holstering the gun. “Probably, but you gotta admit—it works.” She grabbed Aang by the collar, yanked him up, and shoved Katara and Sokka forward, “This is the part where we run!”

The group bolted.

Aang still sputtering. “W-We can’t just attack people like that!”

“Calm down, Little Hero-Man,” Jinx said over her shoulder, spinning her gun casually. “I didn’t hit anyone. It’s called distraction. You’re welcome~”

Behind them, the guards quickly recovered, their commander barking orders. “After them! Don’t let them escape!”

Earthbenders slammed their feet into the ground, sending rippling waves of stone barreling toward the fleeing group. Jinx cursed under her breath as she turned a corner, narrowly dodging a rising wall of rock.

“Yeah, this is fine!” Sokka shouted, sarcastic panic in his voice, “Totally fine! I love being chased by angry guys with rocks!”

“Could be worse!” Jinx replied, vaulting over a market stall with ease. “They could be throwing knives.”

“They might as well be!” Sokka yelled back, stumbling as Katara yanked him forward.

More soldiers joined the fray, their bending relentless. One launched a volley of rock spikes at their feet, forcing the group to scatter. Aang Airbent a gust to deflect them, but the soldiers kept pressing forward.

“Jinx, we can’t keep this up!” Katara shouted.

Jinx glanced back, her pink eyes glowing with manic glee. “Then we just need to up the stakes!” She fired another shot from her Zip Gun, this time aiming at a large hanging sign as the projectile hit its mark, and the sign crashed to the ground, blocking the path of the nearest guards.

Aang glares at her. “Stop using that thing! You’re making it worse!”

Jinx shrugged, blowing imaginary smoke off the barrel. “I’m making it awesome.”

“Awesome?! We’re gonna get arrested! That is the opposite of awsome!” Aang exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. 

“If they catch us!” Jinx replied, flashing a wild grin.

The group darted into an alley, but their brief moment of relief was shattered when the walls closed in around them from Earthbenders sealing off their escape.

“Well, that’s just cheating,” Jinx muttered, spinning on her heels to see the soldiers closing in from the other side.

Aang sighed, his shoulders slumping. “This is bad. We have to surrender.”

Katara frowned but nodded reluctantly. “He’s right. We’re out of options.”

Jinx looked at them, then at her gun, clearly considering going out in a blaze of glory, but as more soldiers appeared, even she let out a defeated sigh, “Fine. But for the record, surrendering is super boring.” spinning her Zap in her hand and swiftly returning it back to her gun sling by her hips and sets down her bags.  

The lead soldier stepped forward, his stone cuffs ready. “You’re all under arrest for disturbing the peace and destruction of property.” and immediately the cuffs latched onto their wrists.

Jinx leaned over to Katara, her smirk returning. “Still think my plan wasn’t fun?”

Katara glared at her. “No. And it wasn’t a plan. It was chaos.”

“Exactly,” Jinx said with a wink.

Sokka groaned loudly. “Can we not bond over this right now? We’re going to jail!”

Jinx tilted her head toward Aang, who looked like he was about to faint. “Cheer up, Baldy. Just think of it as a learning experience.”

Aang groaned as the soldiers dragged them forward. “This is the worst learning experience ever.”

From somewhere in the distance, the wail of a familiar voice echoed: “MY CABBAGES!”

Katara winced, guilt flashing across her face. “Oh no…”

Sokka groaned, throwing his head covering his face. “Great. Just great. We’re doomed. All because of this superslide ‘tradition’!”

But Jinx? Jinx looked absolutely delighted. She glanced at the stone cuffs on her wrists, tested the weight with a casual shrug, then flashed a grin at the others.

“Well,” She chirped, “this is a first.”

Sokka whipped his head toward her. “A first? What do you mean a first?”

Jinx leaned in with a crooked smile, her glowing pink eyes glittering with mischief. “First time I’ve ever been successfully arrested.”

Katara blinked. “…Successfully?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jinx said breezily. “Usually, I just…don’t get caught. Or I blow something up. Or both. Honestly, if I wanted to, I could’ve avoided these cuffs already.” She wiggled her wrists, smirking at the soldiers. “But you guys looked so serious about it, I figured—eh, why not let you have this one?”

Sokka groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Unbelievable. You’re treating this like a game!”

“Because it is a game,” Jinx said with a shrug, clearly enjoying herself. “You losers are a terrible influence. Look at me—standing here getting hauled off by the fuzz when I could be halfway across the rooftops by now. Tragic.”

Her smirk widened as she added sweetly, “Guess that makes you all officially my bad influence.”

Sokka groaned, exasperated. “We’re not your bad influence—you’re ours!”

Aang, despite himself, let out a tiny laugh before quickly smothering it when Katara shot him a look.

Sokka shook his head furiously. “No. Nope. Don’t encourage her. She is not allowed to think this is fun.”

Jinx tilted her head, utterly unbothered, and grinned wider. “Too late.”

The grand doors of the Omashu palace creaked open, revealing the opulent throne room. Massive stone pillars lined the space, and at the far end, an elderly man with a long, wiry beard sat on a throne carved from rock. The King of Omashu leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing with interest as the four children were marched in.

The first guard stepped aside, allowing the group to pass.

Sokka’s shoulders tensed, his face betraying his discomfort while Katara glanced upward with an attempt at an apologetic expression, but immediately shifted her gaze aside, unable to meet the king’s scrutinizing stare.

The king grunted thoughtfully, arching an eyebrow as he studied them. “Hmm…” His gaze lingered on each of them, his expression unreadable but amused.

Two guards behind Team Avatar gave them firm shoves, forcing them to kneel in the center of the room, Momo, tilting his little head upward towards his four humans seeing them kneeling down and in response Momo followed along, kneels down and looks up to the king. 

“Great,” Sokka hissed under his breath. “This is exactly how I wanted to spend my day—on my knees in front of a king with anger issues.”

Jinx snickered, leaning slightly toward him. “At least it’s not your fault this time.”

“Oh, it’s definitely partially your fault,” Katara whispered sharply, glaring at Jinx.

Aang, looking genuinely remorseful, muttered. “Maybe if we’d explained ourselves sooner—”

Jinx rolled her glowing pink eyes. “Explain ourselves? Oh, sure, Baldy, let’s try reasoning with the angry rock benders and see how far that gets us.”

“Enough!” Barked the lead guard, stepping forward to address the king as he stood at attention and declared. “Your Majesty, these juveniles were arrested for vandalism, traveling under false pretenses, disturbing the peace, destruction of property…”

The guard paused, clearly uncomfortable, before finishing with a sigh. “…and malicious destruction of cabbages.”

From behind the guards, the cabbage merchant leaped into view, his face red with fury. “Off with their heads! One for each head of cabbage you destroyed!” He jabbed a trembling finger at the group, specifically at Jinx, who raised an eyebrow in mild interest.

Katara gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Off with our—what?! That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

Sokka groaned, his face buried in his hands. “How does this always happen to us?”

Jinx, however, unfazed. “Oh, boohoo, we ruined your leafy greens. Want me to buy you a salad, old man?”

The cabbage merchant’s face turned an alarming shade of purple as he started hopping madly in place. “SALAD?! SALAD?! Those were prize-winning cabbages! Do you have any idea—”

“Jinx!” Katara snapped.

Sokka frantically gestured for her to zip it.

“What?” Jinx muttered, rolling her eyes. “Guy needs to calm down. It’s just vegetables.”

“Not helping!” Aang whispered urgently, sweat beading on his forehead as the king’s expression shifted into one of amusement.

The king suddenly held up a hand, silencing the room. He chuckled softly, his voice gravelly yet light. “Hmm…this is quite the lively group you’ve brought me.”

He leaned back on his throne, stroking his beard as his gaze flitted between the four. “Tell me, children. Is this your first time being arrested?”

The king’s question hung in the air, his sharp eyes glittering with mischief.

Sokka groaned so loudly it echoed off the throne room pillars. He dropped his head back and muttered, “The universe hates me… why just why??”

Katara buried her face in her hands, her cheeks burning in mortification. 

Aang, meanwhile, looked like he might faint on the spot. His gray eyes went wide as he stammered, “I-I mean, n-no, your highness! Not really! Not—well, technically yes, but it’s not what it looks like!” His voice squeaked at the end, cracking under the pressure.

The king’s booming laugh filled the room, startling the guards and making Momo flinch. “Oh, delightful! I do enjoy first-time offenders.”

Sokka lifted his head with a scowl. “That’s…not comforting.”

Jinx, grinning wide, leaned in with mock solemnity. “For the record, this is my first time being arrested by choice. Willingly, mind you. Which I think counts for something."

“Jinx! Please! Not helping!” Aang hissed.

The king’s grin only widened as he leaned forward, eyes locking on Jinx in particular with interest. “By choice, you say? Now that is interesting…”

She leaned back smugly, as if reminiscing; “Back home, they had Wanted Posters of me all over the Undercity. Oh, and I did sneak into Stillwater Prison once to bust my people out. Broke in and out again. Fun times.” 

Sokka’s jaw dropped. “You broke into a prison?!”

Katara pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering. “Sprits, we're screwed.”

Aang stared at Jinx in shock, clearly rethinking his life choices, “That…really doesn’t help right now!”

Sokka whipped around to stare at her, his face caught somewhere between outrage and disbelief. “You don’t just casually drop ‘oh yeah, I broke into prison once’ like it’s a picnic story!”

He hissed, his voice pitching higher with each word. “Do you realize what that makes us look like? We’re accomplices! We’re cabbage-crushing, wall-smashing, prison-breaking accomplices! The guards are probably writing our names into the history scrolls of ‘World’s Worst Criminals’ right now!”

Jinx smirked, clearly enjoying his meltdown, and leaned closer, her pink eyes glittering with mischief. “Relax, Boomerang Boy. It was just a little jailbreak. Nobody important.”

Sokka’s jaw worked soundlessly. “Nobody important?! That’s—literally—the definition of important! It’s a prison! By default, everyone there is important enough to be locked up! Oh my—I’m traveling with maniacs.”

Katara groaned louder, rubbing her temples. “This just keeps getting worse…”

Aang swallowed hard, his shoulders slumping.

The king, meanwhile, had been watching this whole exchange with increasing delight. His laughter suddenly burst out, booming through the hall. “Oh-ho! This one’s got spirit! I like her! Well, well…I think I’ll have some fun with you.”

Jinx’s smirk faltered. 

The guard sternly barked at the merchant who kept yelling for justice over his cabbages, “Silence! Only the king can pass judgment. What is your decision, sire?”

The king squinted his eyes, grunting pensively as he leaned forward on his throne. His gaze moved slowly from face to face, examining the group.

Sokka let out a nervous whimper, glancing sideways at his companions. The king’s eyes moved to Katara, who smiled politely, her hands folded in front of her and her eyes twinkling with cautious hope.

Next was Aang, who looked like he might pass out any minute now, his Airbender tattoos faintly glimmering with sweat.

Then the king’s sharp gaze landed on Jinx. Unlike the others, she didn’t flinch or avert her eyes. Her peculiar blue hair shimmered in the dim light, and her glowing pink eyes locked directly onto his, unwavering and defiant. There was no hint of fear, only a daring challenge in her stare. Even in handcuffs, faint wisps of her Airbending swirled around her, like the whisper of a storm waiting to break.

The tension in the room thickened. 

The elderly king—who was secretly Bumi, though they all didn’t know it yet—paused on Jinx a beat longer than the others, intrigued by her peculiar aura and her refusal to back down.

The gang glanced at Jinx uneasily; her expression was almost unnerving, the murderous edge in her gaze impossible to ignore.

Jinx’s Airbending made Bumi pause though, his green eyes widened ever so slightly. Airbenders were supposed to be gone—extinct—but here's this strange girl, clearly wielding the same lost power. Even the guards exchanged uneasy glances, murmuring among themselves as the wisps dissipated.

Jinx, still glaring at the king, didn’t seem to care.

Intrigued, Bumi stroked his long beard, staring at Jinx with newfound curiosity. The Airbender tattoos on Aang’s skin, compared to the girl’s tattoos of blue smoke? Clouds? Upon the girl’s skin and the swirl of power around her made him ponder.

“Two Airbenders in my court,” The King said out loud, deeply entertained, “How very interesting…”

The gang noticed the extended silence and exchanged nervous glances.

Sokka, fidgeting, whispered. “Why is he staring at her like that?”

“Shhh,” Katara hissed, trying to maintain composure.

Jinx, however, didn’t look away or blink, staring right back at the King with glowing pink eyes as her defiance seemed to unsettle everyone but the King.

The king blinked. 

After what felt like an eternity, the king leaned back in his throne, grinning mischievously. He raised his hand, his expression shifting into his own sense of playful chaos.

“Throw them…” He began, letting his voice trail off ominously.

Sokka’s face drained of color as he audibly gulped, “Oh no…”

Katara froze, dread filled her eyes.

Aang tensed, readying himself for the worst.

“…a feast!” the king suddenly declared, his voice booming through the hall as the guards blinked in confusion but quickly straightened up, bowing to their king.

Sokka’s jaw dropped. “A what?”

Katara’s tense shoulders eased as she blinked. “A…feast?”

Aang’s nervous expression gave way to bafflement.

Jinx rolled her eyes. “Oh great, dinner with the guy who arrested us. What an upgrade.”

Bumi chuckled softly, his grin widening. He hadn’t missed the edge in the strange blue haired girl’s gaze—or the way she wielded her bending. This group was already proving to be far more entertaining than he could’ve hoped.

And a feast it was.

Within moments, servants bustled into the throne room, laying out platters of steaming food on long stone tables. The aromas of roasted meats, spiced vegetables, and freshly baked bread filled the hall.

Sokka’s nose twitched immediately. “Okay…” he muttered, eyeing the spread, “…I’m not gonna complain if jail comes with catering.”

Katara smacked his arm lightly. “Sokka!”

“What?!” He threw up his hands, indignant. “It smells amazing!”

Jinx leaned back against her chair, her lips curling into a smirk. “Careful, Boomerang Boy. It could be poisoned.”

Sokka froze mid-sniff, paling. “…you’re kidding, right?”

“Guess I'll find out first bite.” Jinx said casually, grabbing a roll and biting into it without hesitation.

Sokka’s eyes went wide as saucers. He lurched across the table, nearly knocking over a platter of dumplings. “Are you insane?! You don’t just test food for poison like that!”

Katara gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. 

Aang’s face went pale, his voice trembling as he half-stood from his chair. “Wait, wait, don’t swallow it!" He turned frantically toward the servants still setting dishes. “Is it poisoned?! Tell me it’s not poisoned!!”

The servants froze mid-step, staring in stunned silence before glancing nervously at their king. Bumi, meanwhile, threw his head back in roaring laughter, the sound booming off the stone walls.

Jinx blinked at them mid-chew, then very deliberately tilted her head back, swallowed the bread with a dramatic gulp, and smacked her lips. She leaned back in her chair, smirk tugging at her mouth as she raised a brow at their horrified faces.

“…Nope. Not poisoned.” She shrugged, tossing the half-eaten bread casually in the air before catching it, waving it like proof. “See? Perfectly fine. You bunch of babies. If it was, I’d already be on the floor foaming at the mouth. Relax, Baldy.”

Aang’s face still sheet-white, his voice cracking in alarm. “You’re not supposed to just eat it! What if you were right?!”

"I'm breathing, aren't I?" Jinx raised a brow. "Seriously, relax." 

Bumi leaned forward on his throne, watching her chew with exaggerated fascination. “Hmm! Brave little one, aren’t you?” His laughter bounced through the chamber, strange and unrestrained.

Sokka pointed at her dramatically, voice cracking. “Relax?! What if it was poisoned?? And you want us to relax?!” He slapped a hand to his forehead, groaning loudly. “Unbelievable! We’re sitting turtle-ducks here, and she's volunteered to be food tester.”

Jinx shrugged, crumbs scattering from her mouth. “If he wanted us dead, we’d already be in a pit or smashed to death with their rocks or something. Might as well enjoy the food."

Aang was still half-panicked, half-relieved, wringing his hands. “W-What if you were right?  What if you did that and then I—” His voice broke, and he shut his mouth quickly, eyes darting down.

Jinx rolled her glowing pink eyes, clearly savoring their reactions. “For fucks sake, you’re all so dramatic. I took one bite of bread, not a swig of arsenic. Chill.”

Sokka sat rigid in his chair, arms crossed tight against his chest, glaring at Jinx while she leaned back smugly, chewing like nothing in the world could touch her. Outwardly, he wanted to snap something snarky back—something like “bread today, dead tomorrow”—but the words caught in his throat.

And now here she was, tossing half a bread roll in the air like testing for poison was just a game.

His gut twisted, unease settled deep, dragging a hand down his face, groaning quietly. 'Spirits, she’s reckless. Too reckless. And not just in the “blow up cabbages for fun” way.'

Sokka glanced at her from the corner of his eye, her smug grin still plastered on her face as she teased Aang and Katara for freaking out. To everyone else, she looked alive, fiery, unshaken, but Sokka could still hear the way her voice had wavered the night before.

Sokka pressed his lips together, forcing down the urge, this wasn’t the time—not in front of the king, not with half the Earth Kingdom guards breathing down their necks. But the weight of it sat heavy in his chest, harder than any stone the Earthbenders could throw at him.

‘If she keeps playing like this,’ Sokka thought grimly, ‘...one of these days, it won’t be a joke.’ He forced himself to breathe evenly, to school his face back into something resembling normal irritation, but inside, the worry only burned hotter.

Sokka’s blue eyes slid to Jinx’s plate—just that mangled half-roll sitting there like it had personally offended her.

He didn’t say anything.

Instead, he slid his own empty plate closer, reached for the safer stuff within arm’s length and loads it with things he knew Katara would approve of; steamed greens, a heap of rice, a few slices of roasted fish, a few dumplings, and a small dish of fruit—and arranged it like he wasn’t thinking about it at all.

Nothing that looked like a dare. Nothing piled too high because worst case scenario she might get sick and throw it all up. 

Then he stood, circled the table, and—without breaking stride—set the full plate in front of her and nudged her lonely bread aside. “Uh, wrong plate,” He said, deadpan. “That one failed my…food quality assurance test.”

Jinx stared at the food, then up at him, one brow arched. 

Sokka didn't say anything more, already turning back to his seat, no speech, no look. He plunked himself a new plate down in front of himself like that had been the plan all along and dropped back into his chair.

Meanwhile, Momo tried to make off with a slice of fish.

Jinx flicked it back onto the plate with a quick tap of her mechanical finger. “Beat it, fuzzball. This one’s…quality assured.” She didn’t look at anyone as she picked up the chopsticks, at first a tiny bite—testing the waters. Then another, a little bigger as the conversation at the table flowed around her again.

Across the way, Katara clocked it, her shoulders easing. When Sokka sat down, she didn’t say a word—just bumped her knee with his knee under the table.

Katara pretended to adjust the teapot, her blue eyes softening when Jinx went for the rice. She didn’t say a word, just slid a little dish of sauce within reach and went back to her tea.

Sokka kept his blue eyes on his new empty plate, lips tugging into the smallest, smug-not-smug grin.

Aang watched all of it with the kind of quiet relief he didn’t have words for, his smile was soft, grateful. 

Up on the throne, the king watched over the rim of his goblet, beard-tips twitching with a secret little smile, as if a quiet puzzle piece had just clicked into place.

Jinx kept eating—slow, unhurried as she grabbed a dumpling, and took a bite—like the food might vanish if she acknowledged it out loud, and when she caught Sokka sneaking a glance, she didn’t thank him.

And Sokka wasn't expecting one, didn't need her to, just knowing that she's at least eating something was enough that it left him grinning softly witnessing it in the corner of his eye—that she didn’t stop eating.

Sokka poured himself tea like nothing had happened. “So,” he said, tone light, “on a scale from ‘delicate firecracker’ to ‘please don’t touch that lever,’ how explosive is this secret lair I’m absolutely not acknowledging?”

Jinx rolled her pink eyes—but she reached for the greens, too. “Relax, Boomerang. If there was a lair, you wouldn’t survive the welcome mat.”

“Pfft,” Sokka said, waving his teacup. “I’m very welcome-mat compatible.”

“Sure,” Jinx said, and took another bite. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The aroma filled the air, warm and inviting.

Momo was in his element, chittering gleefully as he darted between plates, stuffing his tiny face with anything he could grab. A pile of fruit cores and pastry crumbs was quickly accumulating in front of him, his little squeaks of delight punctuating the otherwise quiet room.

The king stood behind their chairs, his hands resting on the back of Jinx’s seat as his eyes twinkled with mischief as he regarded each of them in turn, for his lively energy contrasted sharply with their nervous demeanor.

“So,” the king began, his voice light and conversational, though his gaze carried weight, “You’ve all caused quite the stir in my city today.”

Sokka opened his mouth.

The king waved him off. “Relax, boy. You’ll have your turn.” before turning to Aang first, “You, young one. What’s your name?”

Aang stiffened before bowing his head respectfully. “Uh, Aang, Your Majesty.”

“Aang,” the king repeated, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Tell me, Airbender, just how did you manage to stay hidden for so long?”

Aang squirmed, glancing at his friends for support. “I-It’s…a long story.”

Bumi leaned back, stroking his beard as his sharp eyes flicked between Aang and Jinx again. “Two Airbenders, alive, after a hundred years. I must admit…this is the most entertaining surprise I’ve had in decades.”

Aang straightened in his chair, suddenly more guarded. “…You know about the Air Nomads?”

“Know about them?” Bumi snorted. “I know enough to recognize when the world decides to cough up impossibilities.” His eyes gleamed, flicking toward Jinx again. “And I know enough to test them.”

The table went quiet.

Sokka paused mid-bite of a dumpling. “What does that mean?”

Bumi’s grin widened into something almost feral. “Oh-ho! You’ll see soon enough.” 

Jinx leaned back in her chair, pink eyes narrowing with a flicker of curiosity and wariness. “Knew the free dinner was too good to be true.”

The king hummed, moving on, he turned to Sokka next. “And you, boy with the boomerang. You look like a warrior. Are you as brave as you seem?”

Sokka sat up straighter, puffing out his chest. “Absolutely, Your Majesty. I’m the brains and brawn of this group.”

Katara rolled her eyes.

The king’s lips twitched in amusement. “And you, young lady,” He continued, addressing Katara. “Tell me, are you the peacekeeper of this little band?”

Katara nodded, smiling politely. “I try to keep everyone in line, yes. It’s not always easy.”

Finally, the king’s gaze settled on Jinx. Her glowing pink eyes were fixed on him, unflinching, her posture was casual, almost lazy, but the sharpness in her expression told a different story.

“And you,” He said, his voice quieter now, as if addressing her directly rather than the group. “You’re an enigma. Where do you come from, girl?”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would, actually.” The king chuckled, unbothered by her defiance. 

For a moment, their eyes locked, a silent exchange passing between them as Jinx's stare didn't waver nor did she blink. 

Jinx shrugged, leaning forward slightly, “Far from here. A place with no sun, no sky, and a lot of people who don’t trust anyone. It was an Undercity, underground, I doubt you’ve ever heard of it.”

The king tilted his head, intrigued by the vagueness of her answer, “Interesting. And yet, here you are, sitting at my table, with the look of someone who’s survived more than their fair share of battles.”

Jinx’s smirk faded slightly, her eyes narrowing, “You don’t know the half of it, old man.”

The king let out a hearty laugh, clapping his hands, “Oh, I like you! You’ve got spirit.”

The gang exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to make of the exchange. Meanwhile, Jinx reached for another roll of bread, taking a deliberate bite as if to signal the conversation was over.

The king didn’t press Jinx further, though his green eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than the others. 

He straightened and clapped his hands again, signaling the attendants to bring in more dishes. “Well, no need for long faces! You’re my guests now. Eat, eat!”

Sokka didn’t need to be told twice, dove into his plate of roasted chicken with an enthusiasm that would have embarrassed most people.

“Finally! A proper meal!” He exclaimed, stuffing his face.

Katara frowned, “Sokka, show some manners!”

“What? I’m appreciating the hospitality,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food. "I've waited patiently."

Aang chuckled nervously, picking at a bowl of fruit. “This is…really nice of you, Your Majesty. I just hope this means we’re not in trouble anymore.”

The king gave him a sly smile. “Trouble? Oh, no, not yet.”

Aang froze mid-bite. “Not yet?”

The king waved him off, “Relax, child. You’ve earned a reprieve for now. But tell me…” He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with curiosity, “What really brings you to Omashu? Surely not just for the fine cuisine and my charming company.”

Katara took the lead, speaking carefully. “We’re just passing through, Your Majesty. We didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Hmm,” The King hummed, tapping his chin, “And yet, trouble seems to follow you.”

Jinx snorted, leaning back in her chair. “What can I say? We’re a walking disaster.”

“Some more than others,” Sokka muttered.

Jinx rolled her eyes, tossing a grape at his head. “Cry about it, Mr. Boomerang.”

"Hey! Food is sacred! Don't be wasteful." Sokka chastised. 

"HEy! FoOd is saCred! DoN't be wAstEful." Jinx mocked his words back with a funny voice and stuck her tongue out. 

“Hmm...tell me, Aang…” The King paused, his tone growing more serious. “What’s it like being an Airbender in a world that believes your kind is gone, Young Avatar?”

The room fell silent. 

“Wait…what?” Sokka blurted out, squinting down at the old man.

Katara frowned, her gaze darting between Aang and Jinx.

The King’s laughter echoed across the table.  “Oh, come now! Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize the Avatar?” His eyes twinkled with amusement before flicking to Jinx, “And her? Well, she’s a bit of a puzzle, but not one I can’t piece together.”

Aang’s expression turned serious. “How do you know I’m the Avatar? And what do you mean about Jinx?”

The King leaned, his grin widening. “It’s my job to know these things, young man. You might say I have a knack for spotting important people.”

Jinx bristled under his gaze, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t know anything about me, old man,” she snapped.

The King chuckled, entirely unfazed. 

Aang looked down, thinking over the King’s question, his fingers tightening around the edge of his plate.“It’s…lonely sometimes,” he admitted to the King softly, “But I’m not the last anymore.”

All eyes turned to Jinx, who was busy inspecting a knife on the table as She felt their stares and looked up, raising an eyebrow. “What? Oh, right. Surprise, I bend air too. Big deal.”

The king’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh, it is a big deal, my dear. You’re a mystery wrapped in chaos, and I do love a good mystery.”

Jinx smirked. “Well, don’t get too attached, old man. I’m not here to play hero like Baldy over there.” She gestured toward Aang.

“Hero or not, you have a gift,” the king said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “And gifts like yours are rare. You’ll find that the world has a way of needing people like you.”

Jinx shrugged, popping a piece of fruit into her mouth. “The world doesn’t know what to do with me. Never has.”

The king’s smile didn’t waver, but his eyes held a glimmer of something deeper, understanding, perhaps? Or maybe not.

He straightened, clapping his hands once more. “Well, enough of this heavy talk! Eat, drink, and be merry! Tomorrow, the real fun begins!”

“Real fun?” Sokka asked warily.

The king’s grin widened. “Enjoy the feast. You’ll need your strength.”

Jinx narrowed her eyes at him, but the king’s jovial demeanor betrayed nothing, leaned back in her chair remaining silent as the tension in the room lingered for a moment, but the rich aroma of the feast was too enticing to ignore.

Slowly, the group resumed eating.

Sokka, as usual, was the loudest at the table, tearing into a drumstick with gusto. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but if this is the kind of punishment we’re getting, I might break more rules!”

Katara sighed, delicately placing a piece of roasted fish onto her plate.  “Sokka, could you not? We’re already lucky we didn’t end up in a dungeon.”

“Yeah,” Aang added, frowning slightly as he poked at a bowl of noodles. “We really need to be more careful. We’ve got a mission, and we can’t afford to get too sidetracked.”

Jinx smirked, leaning forward on the table. “Oh, come on, Baldy. You’ve got to admit it’s kind of funny. One second, we’re running for our lives and the next. We’re here stuffing our faces like royalty.” She tossed a piece of bread at Katara's head as it bounced off.

“It’s not funny,” Katara frowned, glaring at her. “You’re the reason we’re in this mess in the first place.”

“Me?” Jinx raised her eyebrows, feigning innocence. “Last I checked, we were all onboard with the whole ‘let’s dress up and sneak into the city’ plan.”

Katara opened her mouth to retort. 

 “She’s got a point.” Sokka cut in, pointing his fork at Jinx. Technically, this is all Aang’s fault. The cabbages, the wigs, the whole thing—it was all his idea!”

“I-I didn’t mean for it to go this far…” Aang sank lower in his chair, his face red with embarrassment.

Jinx chuckled, taking a sip from her cup. “Relax, Baldy. You’ll learn that plans never go the way you want. Chaos has a way of making itself at home, whether you invite it or not.”

“Great,” Sokka muttered, rubbing his temples. “That’s exactly what we need. More chaos.”

Momo, perched on the table, let out a happy chitter as he gnawed on a piece of fruit, at the sight of the little lemur seemed to lighten the mood.

Aang managed a small smile. “At least someone’s having a good time.”

Sokka leaned back in his chair, swirling his cup dramatically. “So, Jinx,” he began, curious. “—how does someone like you end up with wanted posters where you’re from? I mean, what did you do? Steal someone’s cabbages?”

Jinx smirked, tossing another dumpling onto her plate. “Wanted posters? Oh, those were just for fun. Y’know, little keepsakes for my adoring fans.”

Aang tilted his head. “Wait, really?”

Jinx chuckled. “No, Baldy. It’s because I blew up a building.”

Sokka choked on his drink, coughing loudly. “You what?!”

Jinx waved her hand dismissively. “It wasn’t my fault. They got in the way of…well, it was just a little experiment gone wrong. Or maybe right, depending on how you look at it.”

She leaned forward, grinning wickedly. “But the posters? They don’t do me justice. The art’s terrible. Got the nose all wrong.”

Katara frowning at Jinx. “That’s nothing to joke about. Why would you even—wait, what was the experiment?”

Jinx shrugged, feigning innocence. “Something that went ‘boom’. You wouldn’t get it. Too much science.”

Sokka narrowed his eyes. “You’re definitely the kind of person who’d get thrown in jail. Wait, hold on—you also said something about sneaking into a prison? And breaking people out? What’s that about?”

Jinx’s grin widened, her pink eyes gleaming. “Oh, that was fun. Stillwater Prison—it’s where they lock up the worst of the worst. Or, in my case, anyone they don’t like. A long time ago, awhile back, I snuck in, caused a bit of chaos, and got my people out. Easy-peasy.”

“Easy-peasy?” Sokka exclaimed, his voice rising in disbelief, “You broke into a high-security prison and then broke people out?!”

Jinx leaned back in her chair, lacing her fingers behind her head. “What can I say? I have a talent for getting into places I’m not supposed to be.”

Sokka gawked at her. “That’s not talent—that’s insanity!”

“Insanity,” Jinx said with a smirk, “—is just another word for freedom, Boomerang Boy.”

Aang, who had been silently processing this new revelation, looked at her with wide eyes. “...Stillwater Prison…it's in the Undercity you mentioned?”

“Yeah,” Jinx nodded, her expression softening slightly as she picked at the edge of her plate half full plate as her usual bravado dimming for just a moment. “Let’s just say, things down there aren’t pretty. And if you’re not tough, you don’t last.”

The table fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging over them, her nonchalant confession hanging heavily in the air.

Katara broke the quiet first, her frown deep and unyielding, setting her cup down with a loud clink. “And what about this blowing up buildings? Breaking into prisons? Do you even think about the people who might’ve gotten hurt?”

Jinx smirked, tossing a piece of bread onto her plate. “People get hurt no matter what you do, Sugar Queen. At least when I’m involved, they deserve it.”

Katara’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t make it right.”

Jinx rolled her eyes but didn’t look up, her fingers idly picking at the edge of her plate. “Not like anyone cared about me down there,” She muttered, her voice quieter now, almost too soft to hear.

Katara faltered, her righteous anger wavering as she caught the bitterness in Jinx’s tone. She hesitated, unsure if she should press further, but her disapproval lingered in the furrow of her brow.

Sokka leaned forward, breaking the tension with a loud, incredulous laugh, “Okayyyy, hold up. Let me get this straight. You snuck into this Stillwater Prison—which, by the way, sounds like the worst place ever—and just…what? Casually busted people out? How are you even alive right now?”

Jinx’s smirk returned in full force, her pink eyes gleaming. “I’m just that good, Boomerang Boy. Go ahead, admit it—you’re impressed.”

Sokka threw his hands up, his expression caught between exasperation and awe. “Impressed? No! I mean— maybe a little —but mostly, I’m just wondering how you didn’t end up, you know, dead!”

“Guess I’m lucky like that,” Jinx said, leaning back in her chair.

“Or completely nuts,” Sokka muttered, shaking his head.

Aang, who had been quietly processing everything, finally spoke. “Stillwater Prison,” He said slowly, his tone contemplative, “Zaun sounds like a really dangerous place.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, her smirk softening slightly. “Dangerous doesn’t even cover it, Baldy. You either fight, or you fade. That’s just how it works.”

Aang’s gaze softened. “That’s…really sad.”

Jinx blinked, caught off guard by the simple, honest compassion in his voice. “Sad?" she echoed, tilting her head at him.

“You shouldn’t have had to live like that,” Aang said, his tone steady but filled with empathy.

Jinx stiffened, smirk faltering, but quickly returned as she gave him a warm chuckle. “Aw, thanks, Little Hero-Man. But I turned out great, didn’t I?”

Aang didn’t laugh, just looked at her with a sadness in his eyes and kindness in his voice. “You didn’t deserve that kind of life."

For a moment, Jinx was silent, her usual sharp wit failing her.

She glanced down at her plate, her fingers still fidgeting with its edge. “Yeah, well…” She muttered, trailing off before forcing her smirk back into place, “That’s ancient history, Baldy. Don’t go getting mushy on me.”

Katara exchanged a glance with Sokka, who shrugged awkwardly.

Sokka broke the tension with an incredulous laugh. “Okay—you were a wanted fugitive who breaks people out of prison, blows up a building, and now you’re just…hanging out with us? What’s next, you’re gonna tell us you’ve got some secret lair full of explosives?”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, her grin returning. “Who says I don’t?” teasing.

Katara groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“Probably,” Jinx replied cheerfully, reaching for another roll, “But hey, life’s no fun without a little danger, right?”

Aang sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I'm not sure about that anymore..."

Jinx winked at him. “Stick around, Little Hero-Man. I’ll teach you a thing or two about surviving.”

Momo chittered happily, stuffing his face with another piece of fruit, as the group resumed eating. Despite their vastly different paths, they found themselves united—for now—over a shared meal and the strange twists of fate that had brought them together.

After the feast, the king rose from his seat, clapping his hands together. “Well, my young guests, I think it’s time to show you where you’ll be staying. I’ve had a chamber prepared for you—though I must confess, it used to serve a…different purpose.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances as the king led them down a long corridor, his laughter echoing through the palace halls. Guards followed at a distance, still keeping a wary eye on Jinx, who walked casually with her hands behind her head, clearly unfazed.

The king stopped in front of a large wooden door, gesturing grandly. “Behold! Your accommodations.” He push the doors open, revealing a spacious chamber filled with plush beds, ornate rugs, and a table laden with snacks and fresh linens.

The walls, however, betrayed its past life, with faint remnants of iron hooks and heavy stone slabs that hinted at its previous use as a prisoner chamber.

Katara stepped inside cautiously, glancing around.  “This…used to be a prison cell?”

The king chuckled, “Oh, not just any cell. The best cell! Only the most important prisoners stayed here. But now, it’s a guest room. A little redecorating goes a long way, don’t you think?”

Sokka frowned, poking at the wall. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘welcome’ like leftover shackles.”

Jinx smirked, plopping onto one of the beds and bouncing slightly. “Hey, this isn’t bad. I’ve slept in worse.” She leaned back with a dramatic sigh, “Nice to know royalty spares no expense.”

The king stroked his beard, his eyes twinkling as he looked at her. “You’re quite the character, young lady. I’ll have your belongings brought to you shortly.”

Jinx sat up, her expression sharp. “About that—my bags. You confiscated them when we got arrested. I want them back.”

Aang looked at her, concerned. “Uh, Jinx…are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re not planning anything… explosive, are you?”

Jinx gave him an innocent look. “Explosive? Me? Never.” She leaned forward, grinning. “Unless, of course, someone really asks for it.”

"Please don't." Katara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Why would I?” Jinx replied smugly.

The king raised a hand to silence the group’s bickering, “Don’t worry, your belongings will be returned—under supervision, of course. But I must ask, Jinx…what exactly do you carry that’s so important?”

Jinx tilted her head, her grin widening. “Tools of the trade, Your Majesty. You never know when you’ll need to improvise.”

The king chuckled, clearly amused by her boldness. “Very well. Guards, retrieve her things and bring them here. But don’t touch anything you don’t understand. We wouldn’t want another ‘incident,’ now would we?”

The guards nodded and departed, leaving the group to settle in.

“Rest well, my young friends. Tomorrow, the fun begins.” The King said, and with that, he departed, leaving the group to argue, unpack, and prepare for whatever strange test awaited them in the morning.

Sokka immediately claimed the largest bed, only for Katara to shove him aside with a glare. Aang looked around the room, trying to ignore the faint prison-like atmosphere.

“Well,” Aang said, trying to sound optimistic, “—at least it’s better than sleeping outside, right?”

Jinx snorted, tossing her boots onto the floor. “Speak for yourself, Baldy. I kind of liked running from the guards. Good cardio.”

Sokka groaned, flopping onto a bed. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘vacation’ like almost getting arrested.”

Katara, already folding her extra blankets neatly, shot him a glare. “Maybe if you hadn’t been so loud during the chase, we wouldn’t have gotten caught!”

“Me?! Loud?! Excuse me, Miss Water Whip, who decided to take on five guards at once!” Sokka sat up on his bed, pointing an accusing finger at his sister. “You froze me! I had to break the ice to get out because someone thought ice was a good idea!”

Katara whirled on him, hands on her hips. “Oh, please. If I hadn’t frozen them, they would’ve caught us in two seconds!”

Sokka threw his arms out dramatically. “Yeah, and if you hadn’t frozen me in the process, I wouldn’t have spent five minutes as a human popsicle!”

“It was more like thirty seconds!” Katara snapped.

“Thirty seconds too long!” Sokka shot back. 

Katara rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out. “Traumatizing is listening to you whine about it for the rest of the chase!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sokka countered, clutching his chest dramatically. “I didn’t realize my near-death experience was such an inconvenience to you.”

Katara groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re impossible!”

“And you’re reckless!” He retorted.

The two siblings stood nose-to-nose now, glaring furiously, while Aang perched nervously at the edge of his bed, eyes darting between. Jinx, meanwhile, lay sprawled on her bed, hands tucked behind her head, her pink eyes glowing with absolute delight watching the chaos unfold.

Jinx stretched out on her bed with an amused smirk. “Ah,” she said to herself, “—home sweet home.”

Moments later, the guards returned with her bags, setting them down carefully near the door as Jinx hopped off her bed and grabbed them, patting the sides to ensure everything was intact.

“Thanks, boys,” she said with a wink, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the explosions to a minimum. For now.”

The guards stiffened but said nothing, retreating quickly.

Aang watched her cautiously.

Jinx grinned at him as she started unpacking her bags checking her stuff. "Relax, Little Hero-Man. I’m on your side.”

Aang exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing a hair. “Okay. Just…no more explosions.”

“No promises,” Jinx said, but there was a flicker of genuine warmth as she slid a roll of blueprints back into her bag.

Katara hands Aang a blanket. “Sleep. Both of you. Tomorrow’s ‘fun’ sounds like work.”

A soft silence settled. Momo curled into Aang’s lap. The muffled palace sounds faded to a steady hush.

Jinx paused mid-unpack, thumb skimming the dented metal of Monkey Bomb. For a breath, her pink eyes softened—then she tucked it away.

From his bed, Sokka’s voice floated across the dark. “Hey, uh… if you get hungry later, don’t eat the linens.” He nudged a medium sized cloth holding dumplings. “Leftovers. Totally an accident.”

Jinx stared at the ceiling. “Sure, Boomerang. Total accident.”

Katara blew out the last lamp. “Goodnight.”

“’Night,” Aang whispered.

“Night,” Jinx echoed, low.

Jinx’s sleep was restless from the start.

Shadows of the past clawed at the edges of her mind, and no matter how much she fought it, the nightmare came rushing in, dragging her back to a warping, flickering nightmarish mix of the battlefield and memories all fused together in an ugly amalgamation that she wished she could forget.

Zaun is burning.

The sky above was a fiery red, blackened by smoke and ash. Noxian soldiers marched through the Undercity, their heavy boots crushing everything in their path.

Screams and explosions echoed all around.

People of Zaun fought desperately to defend their home, others running away, and others being slaughtered—left on the ground in a pool of their own blood.

"ISHA!" Jinx stood amidst the chaos, clutching her Zapper, her heart racing looking around desperately. Her surroundings full of smoke, sounds of guns firing, shields and swords clashing as she looked for Isha with fear in her eyes. 

“Isha! Vi! Where are you?!” she yelled, her voice drowned out by the cacophony of war, tripping over piles of bloody dead bodies before she took a turn turned a corner and froze.

There she was.

Jinx's eyes flood with a wave of relief feeling her feet moving fast rushing towards Isha—alongside her there was sister, Vi, in all but blood, crouched behind a pile of rubble that Vi was trapped under as Isha’s small hands trying with all her might to pull the rubble off of Vi.

Jinx skidded to her knees beside them, her breath ragged, the acrid smoke burning her throat. “No, no, no—come on!” she rasped, clawing at the debris with trembling hands as the jagged stone bit into her palms, slicing skin, but Jinx didn’t stop.

She couldn’t stop. 

Isha’s face was streaked with soot and tears, her arms straining against a slab that refused to budge, she choked, her little voice breaking as Jinx scrambled to Vi’s side, wrapping her arms under Vi’s shoulders and tugging desperately.

 Vi screamed in agony, her hand smacking weakly at Jinx’s arm. “Stop—stop! Jinx! Stop! You’ll tear me in half!”

Jinx froze, her heart hammering, her pink eyes wide with terror. “Then w-what do we do?!”

Vi coughed, blood staining her lips as her blue eyes locked with Jinx’s. There was no fear in her gaze, only grim resolve. “You run. Both of you. Get out here, get out of Zaun—now.”

“No!” Jinx’s voice cracked, panic flooding through her. “I’m not leaving you here!”

“You don’t have a choice! You stay, you both die!” Vi growled, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “Go! Protect each other! Live!”

Isha shook her head violently, her hands refusing to let go of the rubble even as her strength failed her.

The ground shook with another explosion, showering them with dust and debris. Sounds of Noxians shields and swords clashing as fewer bullets fired in the distance.

“Get out of here!” Vi urges her little sister to leave.

“I c-can’t—” Jinx’s fingers clenched tighter around Vi’s arm, her body trembling.

Jinx couldn’t breathe.

Jinx couldn’t think. 

“No! I’m not leaving you! I can't leave you!" Jinx shook her head furiously, gripping Vi tighter. "We’re all in this together, r-remember?”

Vi reached up, weakly gripping Jinx’s wrist, forcing her to meet her eyes. Her voice dropped to a whisper, raw and fierce. “Powder. Listen to me. Take Isha and run. Please.”

"No…no, no, no, don’t make me—” Jinx’s chest caved as though the words had ripped something out of her. She shook her head frantically, tears burning hot down her face. 

“Please,” Vi's voice breaking as another tremor rattled the ruins around them.

Jinx’s arms shook, letting Vi go as she braced herself against the rubble, trying again, her fingers slipping on stone slick with soot and blood. “Come on, come on! Please, please—” she sobbed, heaving with all her strength. Her shoulders burned, her lungs screamed, but the boulders didn’t so much as shift.

“Powder—stop! You can’t—” Vi cried out as pain ripped through her body, her voice raw. 

“I can!” Jinx shouted through tears, her voice cracking. “I can! I’ll get you out, I’ll fix it, I promise! Just—just hold on!”

The rubble groaned but stayed firm, mocking her.

Vi’s hand reached up, weak but insistent, gripping Jinx’s wrist. Her eyes glistened with pain and regret. “…Y-You can’t fix this one, Powder.”

“No! D-Don’t you dare say that!” Jinx snapped, her face streaked with soot and tears, shaking her head violently. “I’m not leaving you here to die! I’ll die here before I leave you!”

"I'm s-sorry," Vi swallowed hard, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. For everything. For leaving you behind that night. For not being there. Fuck, Powder, I’m so, so sorry.”

Jinx’s breath hitched, her heart shattering at the raw apology. She clutched Vi’s hand in both of hers, pressing it desperately to her face as sobs wracked her body. “Don’t say goodbye. Please. Don’t say goodbye to me again.”

Another explosion thundered nearby, the ground quaking as flames licked closer, the rubble unmoving—nothing was enough to free Vi. 

“Take Isha,” Vi whispered, her eyes locking onto Jinx’s, fierce even through the agony. “Run. Don’t look back.”

“No!” Jinx shrieked, clutching tighter to Vi’s hand, refusing to let go. Her nails dug into Vi’s skin, as if she could anchor her there by sheer will. “I can’t! I can’t leave you!”

Isha’s hands trembled, grabbing Jinx’s arms, her own face streaked with tears.

Vi squeezed her hand once, her strength fading but her voice firm. “You can. You have to.”

The sound of collapsing stone roared behind them, fire rising, footsteps getting louder and closer. 

Isha pulled at Jinx desperately.

Jinx’s whole body shook as she broke down, screaming through her tears. “I can’t—please don’t make me do this—I can’t let go!”

Vi’s voice softened, fragile as glass. “…You have to. For me. For her."

The world blurred as smoke, fire, screaming—none of it mattered. All Jinx saw was Vi’s face, framed in blood and ruin, telling her to go. Jinx’s hands trembled as she gripped Vi’s shoulders, her face contorting with anguish. “

"I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Violet—I ruined everything, I always do!” Her voice cracked, desperate sobs choking out the words. She buried her face against Vi’s soot-stained shoulder, clutching her like she could somehow fuse them together and never let go.

Vi gasped at the impact but pulled Jinx into her with what strength she had left, her own tears streaking down through the grime. “No—no, Powder, it’s me. It’s all my fault.” Her voice broke as she shook her head against Jinx’s hair. “I should’ve never left you behind. I should’ve never let you be alone. Shit, I should’ve taken you with Ekko. I should’ve never dragged us up to Topside, I-I didn't listen to Vander. I ruined us.”

Jinx sobbed harder, her small body wracked with guilt and grief. “I can’t lose you again. I can’t. Please—please, don’t make me—”

Vi cupped the back of her head, pressing her forehead against Jinx’s. Her own tears spilled freely now, falling into Jinx’s blue braids. “I love you, Powder. Always. You hear me? I love you.” Her voice wavered as the world shook around them, but she held on, clutching her little sister as if she could burn those words into her soul.

“I love you too.” Jinx cried out, the words ragged, almost torn from her chest. 

"You'll be okay, Powder." Vi’s grip weakened, her arms trembling as she tried to push Jinx back. “You're gonna be okay, but you and Isha need to leave. Please.”

Jinx shook her head frantically, her heart splitting.

Vi’s hands slid down her arms, their fingers tangling together one last time. “You have to, Powder. You have to.” Her voice was soft now, breaking apart like glass. “Go.”

Jinx clutched Vi until her knuckles turned white, her cries echoing through the burning ruins. Then, with a shuddering, soul-splitting sob, she let go as her breath hitched violently, the loss like a knife through her chest.

Jinx turned, scooping Isha’s frail, trembling frame into her arms as Isha clung to her desperately, burying her face against Jinx’s neck as the smoke and fire swallowed everything.

Jinx staggered to her feet, her knees shaking beneath her. For just one second, she looked back—Vi still pinned beneath the rubble, reaching weakly after her, tears glinting in the firelight.

And then Jinx ran.

The world blurred into fire and blood and the pounding of her heart as she carried Isha into the choking smoke, Vi’s voice and her last I love you ringing in her ears like a curse she could never escape.

Jinx’s lungs burned as she tore through the smoke-choked alleys, Isha clutched tight against her chest as her boots slipped on blood-slick cobblestone, her knees buckling as she stumbled over a mangled body and hit the ground hard, her breath knocked out of her.

“Isha—no, no, I’ve got you,” Jinx sobbed, scrambling upright, her fingers trembling as they slid protectively through Isha’s curls. She pressed her little sister’s head close against her shoulder, her own braids whipping wildly as she forced her body forward again.

The world around her was falling apart—walls crumbling, windows shattered, fire eating its way down the streets. Jinx could barely see through the haze of smoke and tears.

Every step was agony, her arms screaming from the weight she refused to set down. Her sobs echoed in the emptiness, mingling with the clash of steel and the dying cries of Zaunites.

Jinx staggered through the alleyways, past collapsed homes and overturned carts, her voice breaking on a whisper she repeated like a prayer; “Stay with me, stay with me, please don’t leave me too…”

But then—

A sound.

A low, guttural growl.

Deep. Rumbling. Familiar.

Jinx froze in her tracks as the hairs on her neck stood on end. She turned slowly, the smoke parting just enough to reveal a massive shadow looming behind her.

Two glowing eyes pierced the haze.

Her breath hitched. Her blood turned to ice.

“…V-Vander?” she whispered, her voice trembling, breaking apart.

The figure stepped closer, heavy claws scraping against stone. Broad shoulders, monstrous frame, the hulking beast of metal and muscle rising from the smoke. For one agonizing second, she saw him—saw Vander as he used to be, the man who carried her on his shoulders, who promised to keep her safe.

But it wasn’t him anymore.

The face that emerged was twisted, feral—fangs glinting in the firelight, jaws dripping with blood as his breath rattled like a growl dragged through broken glass with chains hung from his limbs, still clinking.

Jinx’s pink eyes widened, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. “No…” she choked, clutching Isha tighter against her chest as she staggered back a step. “Not you. Please— not you.

The beast’s eyes locked onto her. And in that low, animal snarl, she heard something—a hint of recognition? Or maybe just her desperate hope playing tricks on her.

But then he roared.

The sound shattered the night, deafening and primal. It rattled the broken walls around her, and Jinx stumbled, her body frozen feeling her frame shaking and then a chilling roar split the sky, and before Jinx could even scream, the beast charged.

The figure that had once been Vander lunged forward his mechanical claws dripping with blood with an ear-splitting roar.

“No!” she cried out to herself more than anyone else, her legs pumping as she tore down the alley. Smoke stung her lungs, fire licked the edges of her vision, but she didn’t dare look back as very step thundered in her ears—no, not hers.

His.

The ground shook beneath his pursuit, claws raking across stone, chains clattering as the monster that had once been Vander chased her through the ruins of Zaun.

Jinx sobbed brokenly, Isha limp in her arms, her curls sticky with soot and blood. “It’s okay, Isha, I’ve got you, I’m not letting go—never letting go—”

A wall crumbled ahead, forcing her to skid through rubble, scraping her knees raw. She lurched forward, tripping over shattered glass and bodies she didn’t dare see. Her arms tightened around Isha as if sheer force could anchor her to life.

Behind her, the beast roared again, closer now, the sound rattling through her bones.

“Please, please, please…” Jinx’s voice cracked as she stumbled into another street, lit hellishly orange by fire consuming the buildings. She nearly fell to her knees, but her will forced her forward—until her boot snagged on broken stone.

She crashed hard into the ground.

“Isha!” Jinx screamed, arms wrapping tight, but the force of the fall jolted the girl from her grasp. Isha’s small frame rolled across the cobblestones, limp, her head striking stone with a sickening crack before she lay still among the spreading ash.

“No—no, NO!” Jinx scrambled, her scraped hands clawing the ground as she dragged herself toward her, fingers reaching desperately. “Get up, Isha—please, get up!”

But Isha didn’t move.

The shadow fell over them both. The beast loomed, chains rattling, eyes glowing, maw dripping as it let out another guttural roar.

Jinx’s sobs strangled in her throat, her body shaking violently as her fingers brushed the edge of Isha’s hand—so close, but too far as her scream ripped through the burning streets—

“ISHA!!”

The monster lunged.

Jinx jolted awake with a scream.

“ISHA!!”

The name tore out of Jinx’s throat as a bloodcurdling scream, so raw it shook the chamber’s stone walls, breath came in ragged gasps as she sat up, drenched in cold sweat. Her glowing pink eyes darted wildly around the room, wide and unfocused, her breath ragged and shallow catching sight of the faint moonlight streaming through the windows reminding her that she was in Omashu.

Across the room, Sokka jerked awake with a startled shout, nearly falling off his bed as he scrambled upright, Katara and Aang gasped, sitting up, eyes wide with alarm that Aang nearly toppled off his bed, Momo chittering and clinging to his head with his ears pinned flat.

The echo of her scream still hung in the air, deafening in its aftermath as Jinx's hands clawed at the sheets, trembling violently, fingers still curled like she was holding Isha in her arms.

Jinx tried to steady her breathing as the shadows in the corners of the room began to twist, forming the shapes of figures flickering into existence. 

'You’re not real. You’re not real.' Blinking through the tears she shakenly wiped them away with her hands covering her eyes, pressing the palms of her hands harder against her eyes refusing to look.

“Jinx!” Aang's voice cracked as he scrambled toward her bed, his heart hammering. “Jinx—it’s okay! It’s just us, you’re safe, you’re safe!” his hands hovering uncertainly before he dared grab her shoulders

Jinx flinched at the sound of his voice, snapping her head toward him. For a moment, she didn’t recognize him, her glowing eyes wild and panicked, but as the hallucinations flickered in and out, until eventually reality crept back in.

“I-I’m fine,” Jinx muttered, her voice hoarse as she covered her face trying to breath. 

“Another bad dream?” Aang said softly, his tone full of worry. 

“I said I’m fine!” Jinx snapped, louder this time before she swung her legs off the bed, turning her back to them as she tried to compose herself.

"J-Just, go back to sleep." Her pink eyes flicked toward him at last, unfocused but catching on the familiar sound of his voice. She choked on a sob, her lips trembling, her breaths shallow like she was drowning.

Katara hesitated, watching her with a mix of compassion and uncertainty. “Jinx…you know you can tell us anything, you've been having nightmares for a while. Whatever it is, we can help.”

Jinx let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t get it, Katara. You can’t fix this. Just…just drop it, okay?”

Sokka’s stomach twisted—he’d seen her sharp, cocky, defiant—but never like this...this was...whatever she dreamed...it was a really bad dream.

Sokka swung his legs off his bed, rubbing a hand down his face before standing. The usual snark he’d throw out in a tense moment was nowhere in sight. He crossed the space slowly, careful not to spook her as he crouched just within reach.

“You think we don’t get it?” His voice was low, steady, not sharp. “Maybe I don’t. Maybe I don’t want to. But I know what it looks like when someone’s drowning in something they can’t shake off.”

Jinx refused to look at him or Aang, her shoulders trembling, fingers gripping the edge of the bedframe like she could hold herself together by sheer force.

Sokka sighed, his hand hovering in the air before he carefully set it on the corner of her blanket instead of her shoulder, not forcing touch she might flinch from. “You don’t have to spell it out for us, Jinx. Not now. Not ever if you don’t want to. But—” his throat bobbed, his voice softening, “—don’t tell us you’re fine when you wake up screaming like that. You scared the living shit out of me."

A shaky laugh slipped from her, bitter and wet, though she still didn’t look at him.

“Yeah,” He muttered, scratching the back of his neck, “scared the life out of Katara and Aang, too. Even Momo. Whole group’s wide awake now—so congratulations, you win ‘Loudest Nightmare Award.’”

He dragged one of the blankets off his own bed and settled down on the floor cross-legged, like he meant to stay put. Arms crossed, casual. Like it was no big deal.

Sokka leaned his head back against her bed, pretending to get comfortable. “So go on. Try to sleep. I'll keep watch.”

Jinx finally turned her head, pink eyes glinting faintly through the dim light, still wet, still haunted. She studied him, searching for mockery, but all she saw was stubbornness and something steadier than she wanted to admit she needed.

The room fell quiet except for her shaking breaths, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Katara’s hand pressed against her own chest as she exchanged a helpless look with Aang.

Aang hesitated, shifting his weight on his feet. He glanced at Katara, who gave him the smallest nod of encouragement and swallowing hard, he turned back to Jinx.

He climbed up onto the edge of her bed slowly, careful not to startle her. His small frame barely dipped the mattress, but the movement made her pink eyes flick toward him.

“...you don’t have to talk about it.” Aang said gently, his voice quiet in the heavy silence. "I know what nightmares feel like. They…make everything feel real again...I..I...I don't like talking about it either.”

Jinx’s lips pressed into a thin line, her shoulders stiff. She didn’t answer, but she didn’t shove him off either.

"They…make everything feel real again.” Aang rubbed his palms nervously on his knees, then—without overthinking—shifted closer and leaned against her arm, resting his head lightly against her shoulder. “But you’re not alone this time.”

The words were soft, but they carried weight.

Jinx froze. Her body was still trembling, but the unexpected warmth at her side made her chest ache in a way she didn’t know how to handle. Her breath hitched, and she squeezed her eyes shut, the stubborn tears slipping free despite her best effort.

Aang closed his own eyes, keeping still, steady. “When I first woke up and realized everyone I knew was gone…I thought I’d never stop feeling like I was falling. Katara and Sokka…they caught me."

"They’re catching you too.” His voice wavered, but he didn’t pull away.

Sokka, sitting cross-legged against her bed, cracked one eye open at Aang’s words. His throat tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. He just shifted, folding his arms across his chest like he wasn’t moved—but the faint flicker in his gaze betrayed him.

Jinx sniffled, biting the inside of her cheek hard. She whispered, hoarse, “…You’re just a kid.”

“I know,” Aang admitted, lifting his head just enough to meet her glowing eyes, his gray ones wide and earnest. “But...so are you...and kids don’t leave each other alone in nightmares.”

The words hung in the air like a fragile truth.

Jinx let out a trembling laugh, half-broken, half-disbelieving. Her hand lifted, shaking, before dropping into her lap as if she’d thought better of it. “…You’re gonna regret saying that, Baldy.”

“I don't.” Aang said with a small smile, nestling back against her shoulder. "I wouldn't regret this. Not tonight."

Katara’s eyes softened, a lump rising in her throat as she watched them. Sokka kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting off a sigh of relief.

The chamber grew quiet again, the weight of Jinx’s scream slowly dissolving into something gentler.

Her breaths, though still shaky, began to slow. Between Sokka at her side and Aang leaning into her, Jinx finally let her rigid shoulders sag, her head bowing forward as if the fight had bled out of her—at least for tonight.

Jinx stayed seated on the edge of her bed, staring at the floor as her own mind was still reeling, her heart heavy with guilt and sorrow that she quite honestly couldn't stop replaying over and over...leaving Vi behind and Isha's skull hitting rock. 

Her chest tightened, a sharp ache rattling through her ribcage. She pressed her fist hard against her sternum, as though she could crush the memory there before it spread.

An hour after another and half pass her by. 

She couldn’t sleep, yet she waited and waited until Sokka couldn't keep his eyes open and only then she knew he was sleeping did Jinx decide that she wanted to go for a walk.

Jinx waited for another hour to pass her by as she sat in silence, her hands gripping her knees, nails biting into the fabric of her pants. The clock in her head ticked endlessly with every heartbeat, dragging her deeper into the nightmare she wanted to claw out of herself.

She barely noticed Sokka’s head drooping, his snores starting low and uneven before slipping into something steady. For all his stubborn vigilance, exhaustion had claimed him at last.

Jinx glanced at him, her glowing eyes softening just slightly. His hand was still curled near the edge of her blanket, like he hadn’t meant to move far even in sleep as she felt the faintest warmth and weight against her shoulder.

She turned her head and found Aang still slumped against her, sound asleep. His little head tipped forward, mouth open in the most ridiculous angle, and a glistening trail of drool slowly creeping down his chin. His soft snore hitched every other breath, a sound so embarrassingly human it almost undid her.

For a beat, Jinx’s heart cracked—not from pain this time, but from memory.

Isha had done the same, snoring softly and drooling into her chest during late nights in her lair when they used to hide from Zaun’s chaos. She remembered laughing at it then, teasing Isha about it every morning, secretly cherishing how something so small could feel safe in a world that wasn’t.

Now the sound pressed against her chest like a bruise.

Her hand shook as she carefully shifted. She slid her arm behind Aang, easing him back onto her mattress. He mumbled something in his sleep, brows knitting together, but settled as soon as the blankets brushed against his chin.

Jinx pulled the covers up around him, tucking them close like she used to do for Isha. She lingered for a second, fingertips brushing his bald head, before retreating with a shaky exhale.

She grabbed her boots quietly, slipped them on, and stood. Her cloak hung from the bedpost, and she pulled it around herself, the hood shadowing her face.

Jinx cast one last look at the three of them—Katara curled neatly under her blankets, Sokka leaning awkwardly against the wall with his chin sunk to his chest, Aang bundled in her bed, his snores soft and steady.

For a fleeting second, her chest loosened.

Then she turned and slipped through the heavy door into the quiet halls of Omashu, the stone floor cold beneath her boots.

Jinx needed the walk. Needed air. Needed space before the walls of memory caved all the way in.

The stone corridors of the palace stretched on endlessly, their walls lit by faint torches that sputtered and hissed against the draft. The flames cast long shadows that danced over the carvings in the stone, twisting into shapes that Jinx tried not to recognize. Faces. Claws. Figures reaching for her from the corners of her mind.

Her boots echoed softly against the floor, the sound swallowed quickly by the heavy silence of the palace. The place was eerie at night—too still, too polished. Omashu in the moonlight was not the bustling, chaotic city she’d glimpsed in the day, but a tomb with gilded edges.

She dragged her hand along the rough wall as she walked, her fingers brushing the grooves left by the Earthbenders who had shaped it. The coolness of the stone grounded her, but not enough. Every flicker of firelight seemed to warp into something familiar—an Undercity alleyway burning, the silhouette of a girl she’d never hold again.

She didn’t know where she was going. Didn’t care if she got lost in the winding labyrinth of the palace. A part of her almost wanted to. To disappear into the maze, let the walls swallow her whole until no one could find her.

But her feet kept moving. Always moving.

Her hood was drawn low, twin braids trailing over her cloak as she passed arched windows where the pale moonlight spilled in. From up here, the city of Omashu was hushed, the stone chutes gleaming faintly like silver veins stretched across the dark. It was beautiful, in its own alien way, and for a fleeting moment she wondered what it would’ve been like if Zaun had ever looked like this from above. Not smoke and fire, but light.

Her chest tightened. She shoved the thought away.

“…Don’t matter,” she muttered to herself, voice rough against the stillness. “Not like it exists anymore.”

Her steps slowed. She stopped beneath a torch, staring at the flame as it licked and curled upward as the crackle reminded her of gunfire. Of explosions she’d built with her own hands, and she wondered—if she stared long enough, would the fire flicker into Isha’s curls, Vi’s fists, Vander’s hulking shadow?

Her fists clenched at her sides, shutting her eyes and moved on before the fire could answer.

Meanwhile, back in the chamber, a faint rustle stirred Aang from his sleep. He blinked blearily, his head half-buried in Jinx’s blanket where she’d tucked him in. For a moment, the room felt safe. He saw Katara curled on her side, Sokka snoring in his corner, Momo sprawled out like a little fruit-stuffed starfish.

But Jinx’s bed—her presence—was gone.

Aang sat up quickly, rubbing his eyes. “Jinx?” he whispered, glancing around.

Silence

His stomach twisted. He sheds the blanket over him, abandoning the warmth behind as his bare feet touched the cold floor and padded quietly across the stone floor, glancing toward the door left slightly ajar.

A faint draft crept in through the crack.

Aang’s chest tightened. He looked back once at his friends—still sleeping—before slipping out into the hall barefoot, the chill biting at his skin.

“Jinx…” He whispered again into the empty corridor, his voice swallowed by the flickering torchlight.

And then he began to follow.

Jinx wandered around the palace until she stumbled upon a dojo, where she noticed a punching bag across from her. She slowly walked over to it, she stood frozen, her hands trembling as she gripped the punching bag for support.

Her breaths were slowly growing erratic, her chest heaving as her pink eyes shimmered with tears that she stubbornly tried to hold back for the nightmare was still fresh in her mind, a storm raging inside her head.

Jinx had hoped the dojo’s silence would bring her peace, but the voices clawed their way back, louder and crueler as they echoed in her skull, their words tearing at her like razors.

“Enough!” She growled through clenched teeth, her hands balling into fists, and struck the bag with everything she had, her braid whipping behind her like a wild lash. She punched, kicked, and slammed her fists into it again and again, each strike fueled by a desperate need to drown out the whispers.

The punching bag swung violently on its chain, creaking under her relentless assault as hot tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t stop. Her movements were raw, unrefined, yet they carried the echoes of something familiar—the same punches and strikes her big sister, Vi, had taught her long ago.

“Shut up! J-Just shut up!” Jinx screamed, delivering one final, Airbending-fueled blow as the sheer force of her strike sent the punching bag flying, its chain snapping off and clattering against the wall.

The room fell into silence, save for Jinx’s ragged breathing as she stood there, fists clenched and body trembling, staring at the broken chain as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality.

Then, the voice returned, smooth and chilling.

“Have you had enough?” Silco’s voice whispered in her mind.

Jinx’s breath hitched, her pink eyes widening as she stumbled back, clutching her head. “N-no,” she whimpered, her voice breaking, “I didn’t mean to hurt you…I-I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

The ghostly voice of Silco responded, calm. “Don’t cry, you’re perfect.”

"N-No...I-I'm not," Her lips quivered as fresh tears spilled down her face. “No…I-I'm not. I ruin everything.”

She choked out, shaking her head. “You should’ve never taken me in. I should’ve just stayed. Maybe—maybe you should’ve killed me then and there.” Her words cracked as if they physically hurt her to say.

Jinx's mind flashed backwards to Vi, who told her to stay, but she didn’t listen—flickering of that fateful day when she met Silco. Her shoulders hunched, her hands gripping her blue hair as if trying to rip the memories out of her skull while her bangs wave slightly over her face.

“I don’t know w-what I’m doing, Silco,” Her voice trembling. “Tell me what to do. If you’re really here, tell me what to do.”

The phantom voice came again, soft and almost kind.

“It’s okay.”

Jinx froze, her breath catching, like rubbing salt over an open wound, his voice she remembered from the first day Silco had found her, abandoned and broken. The voice that had once made her feel safe, even if it was a lie.

She scowled, her tears burning her cheeks as she glared into the empty room. “If you care so much, why are you still talking?!”

“You didn’t say ANYTHING then! When I needed you! When I begged you to!” Her voice cracked with the weight of her pain, and yet only answer she received from the room was silence.

Then she crumbled, falling to her knees. Her voice softened to a broken whisper. “You’re gone.” staring at the floor as her tears dripped onto the polished wood.

“Just like everyone else.” She whispered. Her voice faltered, and her hands fell limply to her sides. “I…I don’t even know why I’m still here, w-what am I even doing?”

Unbeknownst to her, Aang had been watching the entire time, hidden behind a pillar—the sound of the punching bag brought him here, but what he witnessed was far more than he had expected.

Aang wanted to say something, to step forward and comfort her, but he didn’t know how as he froze seeing Jinx’s pain raw, unfiltered, and unlike anything he had ever encountered. He stayed hidden, his heart heavy and aching with worry and sadness for the girl who carried so much weight on her shoulders.

At first, he thought it was just anger—raw, unrestrained anger. But as he watched, hidden in the shadows, he realized it was so much more than that. Her movements were desperate, her tears unrelenting as every strike she threw seemed less about fighting and more about...letting the hurt bleed.

Then came Jinx talking to herself. 

Talking as if there was someone else in the dojo with her. 

The Young Avatar is unaware of the voices that had long ago made themselves a home in Jinx’s mind. As Aang couldn’t hear them, but he could see Jinx talking to someone —or maybe something—that wasn’t there.

Her trembling hands, her frantic pleas, the way her voice cracked as if she were arguing with ghosts…it shook him, wishing he could fix it, and make the hurt go away.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…I ruined everything…You should’ve killed me…”

Her words echoed in his head, stabbing at his heart. Aang clenched his fists, his heart aching for her. He had always been able to sense emotions in others—maybe it was part of being the Avatar, perhaps, being connected to the world and all—but Jinx’s pain felt like a tidal wave crashing into him.

It was overwhelming.

And then she crumbled.

When Jinx fell to her knees, her voice a broken whisper, Aang’s throat tightened. He wanted to rush to her side, to say something, anything that could help, but he hesitated.

“…I don’t even know why I’m still here,” She whispered again, voice splintering like glass.

The words cut through the air, sharp and final, and Aang’s chest constricted so tightly he thought he might stop breathing.

From his place in the shadows, he curled his hands into fists, nails biting his palms. His first instinct was to run to her, to throw his arms around her and promise it would be okay—but what good were promises when she’d already lost faith in them?

So he stood there. Silent. Watching. Listening.

Her body shook as her forehead touched the cold wooden floor, tears pooling beneath her. The dojo, silent moments ago, now felt like a cage—every breath loud, every sob echoing against the walls until it sounded like the whole palace could hear her breaking.

Aang pressed his back to the pillar, sliding down it with a shaky exhale. He stared at the ground, heart pounding as his mind tried to think, what to do, what to say...how can he fix this.

The cracks in that armor were all too visible.

Aang closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he knew he couldn’t just barge in, she came her to let everything out, and Jinx was like a storm—if he tried to force his way through, he’d only get caught in the whirlwind.

'She needs time. She needs someone to listen, not push.’ He rose quietly, forcing himself as he felt his heart screaming to stay, retreating the way he came until the sound of her sobs cracked and echoed through the dojo as it clung to his ears, drowning in despair.

Aang’s breath caught in his throat as he started to retreat. His bare feet slid silently across the polished floor, but every step felt like a betrayal as Jinx’s sobs echoed after him, bouncing off the dojo’s stone walls and following him like ghosts.

He stopped.

The sound of her voice—raw, cracked, splintering—clung to him like smoke. Aang pressed a trembling hand to his chest, his other hand curling against the wall for balance.

His heart hammered in his chest, so loud he thought it might echo off the stone walls. He felt the sting behind his eyes, the kind that came right before tears, and his breath shuddered out of him in a way that made him feel small again.

Too small.

Too powerless.

He remembered Gyatso’s voice, warm and steady: “Sometimes words are not the answer, Aang. Sometimes, all someone needs is for you to stay.”

Aang blinked rapidly, but the burning wouldn’t go away as his breath came unevenly trying to compose himself before he took in a shuddering breath and stepped out from behind the pillar.

His bare feet padded softly across the dojo floor as he stepped out from behind the pillar. Jinx hadn’t even noticed—her forehead pressed to the wood, her whole-body trembling as if holding herself together by the last thread before sitting up curling her knees to her chest tightly.

Aang swallowed hard, his throat dry, and crossed the last few steps. He lowered himself slowly, quietly, and without a single word, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind.

Jinx stiffened instantly, her breath catching sharp like she’d been struck—but when her glowing eyes flicked sideways and found only Aang’s small frame, his shaved head pressed against her back, she froze again.

Not in fear this time, but in something else.

He didn’t say a thing. Didn’t tell her she’d be okay, or that it would get better, or that she was strong that it only made her feel worse.

And for some reason...Aang didn’t say a single word.

He just held on.

His small hands trembled against the fabric of her cloak, but his hold didn’t loosen as Jinx’s lips parted like she wanted to bark at him, tell him to go away, to let her fall apart alone—but no words came.

Not this time.

The sob that tore free was guttural, raw, breaking through all the walls she tried to hold up. Her hands twitched, then slowly, shakily, she lifted one to grip at his arm—like she wasn’t sure if she was pushing him away or anchoring herself to him.

The dojo was silent except for her ragged cries and the small, steady sound of Aang breathing against her back, patient and unmoving, as if to say I’m not letting go, even if you never ask me to stay.

For once, Jinx didn’t fight it. She leaned back into his hold, her bangs falling forward to hide her face as the storm inside her finally crashed once again. Her sobs slowly ebbed into shuddering breaths, and Aang didn’t move, his arms still looped around her shoulders, holding her in silence.

Minutes passed that way, the quiet of the dojo broken only by the faint creak of the broken chain swaying above the ruined punching bag.

Finally, Aang stirred, his voice soft and tentative, like a whisper carried on the wind. “...Do you want to go back to bed?”

Jinx’s shoulders twitched. Her pink eyes, still rimmed red, stared down at the floor as her fingers fidgeted restlessly with the hem of her cloak. She wanted to laugh, to snap something sharp in return, but the words came out small, almost defeated.

“I…don’t even know the way back.” Her voice cracked on the last word, frustration and exhaustion tangling in her tone.

Aang’s grip around her shoulders shifted, firmer, reassuring. He leaned just enough that she could hear the quiet confidence in his reply. “I do. I made sure to remember…distinct things, just in case.”

Jinx blinked at him, finally turning her head enough to catch the earnest look on his face. He smiled—soft, sheepish, but steady. “I knew you might get lost if you wandered.”

For a moment, her lips parted, her chest loosened, just slightly. Not a laugh, not a smile, but something close to relief flickered in her eyes.

“...Of course you did, Baldy,” She muttered, her voice hoarse. She swiped at her face roughly with her sleeve, trying to erase the evidence of tears, and pushed herself up onto shaky legs.

Aang rose with her, still close enough that his presence felt like a tether. He didn’t try to take her hand, didn’t push her to lean on him—just walked at her side, small and certain, as he led the way out of the dojo.

And for once, Jinx let him. The dojo doors closed softly behind them, into the long, torch-lit corridor as their footsteps tapped faintly against the stone, the silence between them heavy but not unbearable.

Jinx shoved her hands into her cloak pockets, head ducked, eyes fixed on the ground. Her braids swung loosely with each step, strands sticking to her damp cheeks. The rawness in her chest hadn’t gone away, but the storm had dulled, reduced to an ache.

Beside her, Aang moved with a quiet steadiness. Every so often, he glanced at the walls, the turns, the patterns carved into the stone, and at each corner, he didn’t hesitate—just turned, certain of the way.

It wasn’t until the third turn that Jinx finally noticed. Her pink eyes flicked upward, catching the way his gaze lingered on a cracked tile at the base of a pillar, a crooked tapestry, a torch bracket tilted slightly off-center.

“…You memorized all that?” She muttered, breaking the silence.

Aang looked at her, surprised she’d spoken, then gave a small nod. “Yeah. I made sure to. In case we got split up.”

“…Seriously?" Jinx blinked at him, her expression unreadable. "I didn’t even notice any of that.”

He shrugged lightly, his voice calm. “I pay attention to things like that. It’s how the monks taught us. Always remember what’s around you so you can find your way back.” He hesitated, then added more quietly, “…and so you don’t lose the people you’re with.”

The words hung between them.

Jinx’s mouth twitched, but the smirk she tried to muster didn’t come out right. Instead, it landed somewhere between sarcasm and something softer. “Huh. Guess you’re better at not getting lost than me.”

Aang smiled faintly, not teasing, not triumphant—just gentle. “That’s why I came looking.”

She looked at him sidelong, the glow in her eyes catching the flicker of the torchlight, she didn't reply just kept walking at, Aang walking at her side, steady as ever, until the familiar door to their chamber came into view.

The morning sunlight filtered through the stone window, casting a soft glow on the room where Team Avatar stirred.

Sokka yawned loudly as he stretched.

Aang followed with a cheerful. “Good morning!” to no one in particular

Katara already began folding her blanket neatly. 

The upbeat mood, however, was weighed down by the heavy silence radiating from where Jinx lay curled up on her side on her bed wrapped in blankets. Her purple satchel was clutched tightly against her chest, her legs drawn up as though she were trying to shield herself from the world. Her green bag, carelessly discarded the night before, sat forgotten on the floor nearby.

Katara frowned as she glanced at Aang and Sokka.

They exchanged a quiet look, both trying not to let their concern show too openly. It was clear Jinx’s night terror had taken its toll—not just on her but on everyone, but tried to keep things lighthearted, hoping to lift the mood.

“Well,” Sokka said as he ran a hand through his hair. “—if I were her, I’d be too embarrassed to get up after screaming in my sleep like that too.”

“Sokka,” Katara snapped, glaring at him.

Aang interrupted. “Maybe we just need to give her some space, Katara. You know, let her come around on her own?”

Katara sighed, glances back at Jinx, who hadn’t moved, her heart ached. “I...don’t think space is the answer right now. She needs to feel like someone cares.”

Katara crossed the room to kneel beside Jinx’s bed. “Good morning, Jinx,”

No answer

Katara tried again, her voice warm and kind. “Why don’t you get up and freshen up? A nice bath could help you feel better.”

Jinx shifted slightly, burying her face deeper into the pillow. “Not in the mood,” she muttered, barely audible.

Katara frowned but persisted. “It’s a new day, Jinx. A fresh start. Come on, let’s—”

“Katara,” Aang interjected gently. “—maybe we should—.”

Sokka, already dressed and ready for the day, decided to try his approach. “C’mon, Blue. You’re not going to just lie there all day, are you? We’ve got a crazy king to deal with. Don’t you want to see what he’s up to?”

Silence

Jinx’s silence was unsettling. It wasn’t the usual sarcastic, biting silence they’d grown accustomed to—it was hollow, almost lifeless. Her pink eyes, when she finally opened them, were distant and heavy with exhaustion.

Katara sat back on her heels. “She doesn’t even have spare clothes. I didn’t think to pack extra…” she murmured to the boys.

“Fine. I’ll get up.” Jinx groaned softly, slowly, she sat up, her movements sluggish. She rubbed her face with her hands, taking a deep breath before muttering, 

Aang smiled gently, with worry bleeding through his gray eyes.

Jinx’s expression remained unreadable as she glanced toward the green bag on the floor. With a grunt, she reached down and grabbed it, opening it slowly. Her fingers brushed against the neatly folded Earth Kingdom attire the kind woman had given her in the market.

Jinx’s mind drifted, remembering the warmth in the woman’s eyes, the softness in her voice when she insisted Jinx take the clothes. She had been so caught up in her own darkness that she hadn’t even thanked her.

Jinx stared at the fabric for a long moment, her fingers trembling slightly. ‘She didn’t have to do that,’ she thought, ‘I didn’t even ask her name…’

The room was quiet as the others watched her carefully, not wanting to intrude on whatever thoughts were running through her mind.

Finally, Jinx sighed, pulled the clothes out. “Guess it’s better than wearing this forever.” recalling Aang’s words from yesterday that she would eventually have to blend in with the rest of them to avoid looking too suspicious than she already was.

Katara smiled softly. “They’ll look great on you.”

Jinx didn’t respond, sighed as she pulled the spare Earth Kingdom clothes from her green bag, holding them in her lap for a moment as pink eyes lingered on the fabric, her expression unreadable.

Then, without a word, she stood up, clutching the clothes, but before heading to the bathroom, she paused, glancing at her bed. Her purple satchel rested against the rumpled bed sheets, as if waiting for her. Jinx walked over silently, her bared footsteps barely making a sound against the stone floor. Sitting back on the edge of the bed, she placed the clothes down beside her and carefully opened the satchel.

Inside, her fingers brushed past a mess of tools, small gadgets, Monkey Bomb, Zap, and her Hex crystal, nestled safely at the bottom. Ignoring those, she pulled out Riot Blast, her trusted sidearm. The weapon’s metallic sheen caught the morning light as she ran her fingers over it, her grip tightening briefly before setting it down beside her.

Next, she pulled out a small stack of her discs—smooth, circular devices she had, painstakingly crafted back in Zaun. Skimming through them quickly, she found the one she was looking for. She turned it over in her hand, inspecting it carefully as if making sure it was still intact. Her expression was distant as her mind drifted to thoughts she kept buried deep.

Satisfied, Jinx closed the satchel and slung it back onto the bed. Holding the spare clothes, Riot Blast, and the disc she had selected, she stood up without a word and walked toward the bathroom. The others watched her as she passed, the silence thick in the room. Katara wanted to ask something but decided against it, exchanging a concerned glance with Aang. Sokka just scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

As Jinx shut the bathroom door behind her, the group sat in the quiet tension she left behind and disappeared behind the door.

Sokka leaned back against the wall with a relieved sigh. "Well, that’s progress, right?” 

Aang nodded, but his expression somber. “I just hope today’s a little easier on her.”

Katara folded her arms. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on her.”

In the bathroom, Jinx leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection. Her blue hair was messy, her eyes bloodshot as she fingered the green Earth Kingdom robes, a small, fleeting thought crossed her mind.

‘Maybe I can at least look the part ,’ She told herself before splashing cold water on her face, took a deep breath, and started to get ready.

As the group sat in the guestroom, the muffled sounds of rustling and faint clinks of metal echoed from the bathroom. After a moment of silence, a sharp click was heard, followed by a static hum that crackled through the thick stone walls. The sudden burst of sound made everyone glance toward the closed bathroom door.

Then the music began.

It wasn’t like anything they had ever heard before. A somber drumbeat set the rhythm, and a hauntingly raw female voice broke through.

“Can you hear the silence in my head gettin’ louder?

I’ve been hearing voices in my sleep, I’m not tired~

Push me to the edge ‘cause I’m a fool for the fire~”

The lyrics were heavy, carrying an emotional weight that made the group exchange worried looks. Sokka shifted uneasily, while Katara’s frown deepened. Aang sat cross-legged on the bed, his head bowed slightly as he listened.

“Can you hear the silence? Can you see the dark? Can you fix the broken?

Can you feel, can you feel?

I’m sorry, brothers, so sorry, lover~ Forgive me, father, I love you, mother~

Can you hear the silence? Can you feel, can you feel my heart? ”

Katara clasped her hands tightly in her lap, her brow furrowed as she processed the words. Sokka opened his mouth to speak but quickly thought better of it, slumping back against the wall instead.

The song’s raw emotion filled the room, each word a haunting reflection of something they couldn’t quite put into words.

“I’m scared to get close, and I hate being alone, I long for that feeling to not feel at all~

The higher I’ll get, the lower I’ll sink, I can’t drown my demons, they know how to swim~”

The song seemed to echo endlessly in their ears, each lyric a small glimpse into the storm raging inside Jinx. Aang’s shoulders sagged as he stared at the floor, the melody pulling at him. He could feel the pain behind the words—he didn’t need to understand where she came from to know how deeply this resonated with her.

None of them spoke. There was nothing to say.

“Can you feel my heart?

Can you feel my heart?”

As the song continued, they simply sat there in silence, waiting for Jinx to emerge. The hopelessness in the lyrics weighed heavily on them, and it was clear to all of them—this was going to be a very long day.

The song eventually faded out into a crackling silence as the static from Riot Blast hummed faintly. The group remained quiet, the heaviness of the moment still lingering in the air. No one dared to say anything.

Katara glanced toward the bathroom door, her hands clenching tightly in her lap. She opened her mouth as if to speak but stopped herself. She looked to Aang, who sat cross-legged, his expression unreadable. He seemed lost in thought, his gray eyes staring intently at the floor.

“So, uh…” Sokka began, his voice unusually low. “Are we just…not gonna talk about that?”

Katara shot him a sharp look

“What?!” He whispered back, throwing his hands up. “You heard the same thing I did! That wasn’t exactly a happy tune, Katara.”

“Obviously,” Katara said, her voice soft but firm. “But we don’t know what she’s going through.”

Sokka leaned back against the wall with a sigh, crossing his arms.

“She’s struggling,” Aang interjected quietly, his voice carrying a weight they weren’t used to hearing from him. He looked up at them, his expression serious. “You don’t hear something like that and…and just ignore it.”

A few more minutes passed by until the door creaked open, and the three immediately straightened as Jinx stepped out, her damp long blue hair clinging to her face and shoulders, changed into the Earth Kingdom attire. 

Jinx wore a sleek, practical outfit in shades of earthy green and deep olive, blending seamlessly with the Earth Kingdom’s aesthetic, with a cropped halter top featured a high neckline and exposed her shoulders, its snug design allowing for ease of movement.

Dark green arm wraps extended from her elbows to her hands, leaving her fingers free while providing protection and a touch of style. Her mix of two shades of light and darker greens, pants were loose and billowy, cinched at the ankles to create a comfortable yet functional silhouette.

A layered skirt-like fabric draped over the front and sides of her pants, tied with a broad, cross-laced waistband that added structure to the ensemble. The asymmetrical design gave her a slightly rugged, nomadic vibe. Her feet were wrapped in simple, sturdy cloth footwear, emphasizing utility over formality. 

The outfit struck a perfect balance between practicality and understated elegance, embodying Jinx’s rebellious, unorthodox spirit—the lady’s Granddaughter sure had a sense of style... though green just wasn’t her color, but since she's stuck here in this place now, she might as well just suck it up and just get over it.

Jinx’s face was tired, her glowing pink eyes slightly dimmer than usual, and she clutched Riot Blast close to her chest as her gaze swept over the group.

“Bathroom’s free.” She muttered, walking past them toward the bed as her long free locks of damp hair flowed behind her as sat down, put Riot Blast back to its home, clutching her bag, her movements slow and lethargic.

Katara approached cautiously, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, “Jinx,” she started gently.

“I’m fine,” Jinx interrupted, her voice flat, didn’t look at Katara, her eyes fixed on the floor.

Katara frowned, placing a comforting hand on Jinx’s tattooed shoulder. “Well…if you need anything, we’re here, okay?”

Jinx nodded slightly but didn’t respond.

Sokka stood awkwardly by the wall, his arms still crossed. “So, uh… breakfast?” he offered, trying to lighten the mood.

 Jinx surprised them all by standing up abruptly.

“Yeah,” She muttered, “Let’s get this over with.” slinging her purple bag over her shoulder and heading toward the door as the group exchanged uncertain glances before following her.

They walked through the halls of the palace, the weight of the morning still hung over them. Aang walked beside Jinx, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.

Jinx, for her part, kept her gaze forward, her jaw clenched. The voices had quieted—for now—but the memory of the nightmare still lingered in her mind. The day was just beginning, but for Jinx, it already felt like it was going to be another uphill battle.

The group made their way to the dining hall, where a modest breakfast spread awaited them. Unlike the previous night’s feast, the table was less extravagant—simple bowls of porridge, fresh fruit, and a few pitchers of juice. The King’s absence made the space feel quieter, almost subdued.

Jinx trailed behind the others, her bag slung over one shoulder. She glanced at the food but made no move to sit or serve herself. Instead, she leaned against the far wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression distant.

Aang hesitated before taking a seat. He kept glancing at Jinx, hoping she might join them, but she didn’t budge. Katara and Sokka exchanged a look, silently agreeing to give her some time.

“So,” Sokka began, trying to break the tension. “—any guesses on what King Crazy has planned for us today? Another ‘trial’ to test our patience?”

Katara eyes her brother. “Sokka, it’s not like we have a choice. He’s the one deciding whether we get out of here or not.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t trust him,” Sokka muttered, stuffing a piece of fruit into his mouth. “He’s way too unpredictable. I mean, did you see the way he was staring at us last night? Creepy.”

“Maybe he’s just curious.” Aang suggested, though his tone lacked its usual cheerfulness.

“Curious about what?” Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow.

Aang hesitated, his eyes flickering toward Jinx. “Well…about us. About her.”

Jinx’s head tilted slightly, though she didn’t turn to face them.

“Her?” Sokka repeated, his voice lowering.

“You saw how he looked at her last night,” Aang said, keeping his voice soft so Jinx wouldn’t overhear, “Like he knew something.”

Katara frowned, her gaze drifting to Jinx. “Maybe it’s because she’s…different. The Airbending, the glowing eyes, the blue hair, she’s not exactly easy to miss.”

Sokka leaned closer to them, whispering. “You think he knows about the wanted posters she mentioned? Or the…uh, jailbreak thing?””

Katara gave him a warning look. “Sokka, keep your voice down!”

Aang nodded. “I don’t think it’s just that. He seemed…surprised. Like he didn’t expect her to be an Airbender.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Sokka said, “Airbenders are supposed to be extinct. No offense, Aang.”

“None taken,” Aang said quickly, “But that’s what I mean. There’s something about her that feels…different.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Sokka muttered, glancing worriedly at Jinx.

“Stop it,” Katara said firmly. “She’s been through enough already. We’re supposed to be helping her, not…speculating like she’s some kind of mystery to solve.”

Before Sokka could retort, Jinx’s voice cut through the room.

“You know I can hear you, right?”

The group froze, their eyes darting to Jinx. She had turned to face them, her expression unreadable but her glowing pink eyes sharp.

“Sorry,” Aang said quickly, his voice filled with genuine remorse, “We didn’t mean—”

“Whatever,” Jinx said, cutting him off with a wave of her hand, pushing herself off the wall and strode toward the table, “Let’s just eat and get this over with.”

The tension in the room was palpable as Jinx sat down, dropping her bag beside her chair, grabbing a bowl of porridge and began eating in silence, her movements mechanical.

Katara watched her carefully, her heart aching at the sight. 

Aang, however, decided to try. “Jinx,” he said softly, “—if you ever want to talk…we’re always here.”

Jinx didn’t look up, her spoon hovering over her bowl. “Don’t waste your breath, Baldy,” she muttered, “You wouldn’t understand.”

Aang frowned but didn’t push further.

The group ate in relative silence after that, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken concerns as they finished their meal, a guard entered the hall and bowed.

“The King requests your presence in the courtyard,” He announced.

“Great,” Sokka said, standing up and brushing off his hands, “Can’t wait to see what weirdness he has in store for us today.”

Jinx stood last, slinging her bag over her shoulder again. She didn’t say anything as she followed the others out of the hall, her expression distant and unreadable.

The day had barely begun, but for Team Avatar, it already felt like they were walking on thin ice. And for Jinx, it felt like that ice was starting to crack.

The group followed the guard through the winding stone corridors of Omashu’s palace. The morning sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting long shadows on the walls. Jinx walked at the back of the group, her bag slung loosely over her shoulder, her pink eyes fixed on the ground.

They soon arrived at the courtyard, where the King was waiting. 

“Ah, my little team of adventurers!” He greeted, clapping his hands together. “Did you sleep well? You all look positively rested!”

Sokka muttered under his breath, “Speak for yourself.”

King’s eyes twinkled as he turned his attention to Jinx. “And how about you, my mysterious new friend? Did you enjoy your accommodations?”

Jinx didn’t respond right away, head down, fingers gripping the strap of her bag. “They were fine.”

“Wonderful!” The King exclaimed, clapping his hands again. “Now, in order for you to leave, the Avatar must complete 3 set of trials that I’ve prepared.”

Sokka groaned, “Challenges? what sort of challenges??"

The group followed the King into a massive underground chamber, the sound of cascading water growing louder with each step as Jinx lingered at the back, her long freed blue hair flowing behind her, her hands shoved deep into her pockets, her bag bumping against her side of her leg, observing the dimly lit space with wary eyes.

The air was damp and cold, and the faint mist from the waterfall clung to her skin. Stalactites hung ominously from the ceiling, mirrored by jagged stalagmites below, framing a roaring waterfall that spilled into a turbulent pool.

Aang stood on a flat rock at the base of the falls, the spray catching the light and creating fleeting rainbows. From a carved stone balcony above, Jinx leaned against the railing, keeping a careful distance from the others. She watched in silence as the King gestured dramatically toward the waterfall.

“It seems I’ve lost my lunchbox key!” The King declared, his voice echoing off the cavern walls. “And I’m very hungry.” He squinted, pointing into the torrent. “Ah, there it is!”

Jinx followed his gaze. Through the crashing water, a faint glint of metal caught her eye—the key hung from a chain, precariously positioned behind the roaring falls. An iron ladder led up toward it, but the force of the water made the climb look impossible.

“That’s it?” Aang tilted his head. “This is my challenge? Just grab the key?”

“Precisely!” the King replied, his grin as wide as ever.

Jinx’s gaze flicked toward Aang. His posture was seemed to try to appear relaxed; she could see the tension in his shoulders. He was trying to seem confident, but she recognized the flicker of hesitation in his expression.

He took a deep breath. “Okay, I can do this,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.

Jinx leaned further into the railing as Aang launched himself toward the base of the waterfall, using bending to carry him across the pool. The roar of the water grew louder as he grabbed the iron ladder and began to climb. The force of the water was relentless, and within seconds, it shoved him backward, sending him splashing into the pool below.

From the balcony, the King chuckled. “Oh, climbing the ladder. No one’s ever thought of that before.”

Katara cupped her hands. “Come on, Aang! You can do it!”

Jinx didn’t join in the encouragement. Instead, she watched, her pink eyes tracking Aang as he tried again. She told herself she didn’t care—this wasn’t her problem. But deep down, a small, unwelcome part of her wanted to see him succeed.

This time, Aang leapt between the stalagmites, using them as stepping stones to get closer to the waterfall. He reached the top and dove straight into the falls, aiming for the key.

Jinx winced as the rushing water pushed him away again, sending him tumbling onto the stone platform below. He caught himself just before landing on a jagged stalagmite, his face twisting in pain.

“That’s right, keep diving head in!” the King called out. “I’m sure it’ll work eventually.”

Jinx’s lips twitched in irritation at the King’s tone. She crossed her arms tightly, her gaze narrowing on Aang. To Jinx’s surprise, Aang paused this time. Instead of rushing in again, he stood still, studying the flow of the water and the position of the key. When he snapped his fingers and smiled.

Jinx’s brows furrowed, “What’s he up to now?” she muttered under her breath.

Aang bent a gust of air, slicing through the base of a stalagmite and shaping it into a crude spear. With precise aim, he hurled the spear toward the key, using another blast of air to accelerate its flight. The spear struck its mark, snagging the chain and carrying the key out of the waterfall.

The spear embedded itself into the stone wall just above the King’s balcony, the key now dangling within arm’s reach.

“Yes! Haha!” Aang cheered, his fists raised in triumph.

Jinx felt her lips twitch again—this time into something resembling a smile, but quickly forced it away, her expression returning to its usual stoic mask.

The King grabbed the key, holding it up like a trophy. “Well done, Avatar! You’ve passed this challenge!” His gaze lingered on Aang for a moment, his playful demeanor shifting slightly.

Jinx caught the subtle change and narrowed her eyes. Whatever game the King was playing, it was clear there was more to it than he let on.

“On to the next challenge!” The King declared, his grin returning as he led the group into another chamber.

This time, the space was a sunken enclosure with uneven terrain and dark tunnels carved into the rock. Aang stood at the center while the rest of the group gathered above to watch.

Jinx stayed at the edge of the balcony, her bag set down on the floor by her feet, her arms crossed as the King clapped his hands, “It seems I’ve lost my dear pet, Flopsie! Poor thing must be so scared.” He gestured dramatically toward the enclosure, “Your task, Avatar, is to find him and bring him back to me.”

Aang’s face lit up as he spotted a small, fluffy bunny hopping across the enclosure. “That’s Flopsie? Easy!” But before he could take a step, a guttural growl echoed through the chamber within the enclosure.

Jinx’s eyes widened as a massive goat-gorilla hybrid leapt down from the rocks, landing between Aang and the bunny as the creature snarled, its fangs bared. 

“Uh oh.” Aang froze, his eyes darting between the bunny and the beast. 

The King chuckled from above, clearly entertained. “Don’t be shy, Flopsie!”

As the creature lunged, Aang leapt back, narrowly avoiding its claws as Jinx’s grip on the railing tightened, watching him dart between rocks, using his agility to evade the creature’s attacks while also chasing the scared bunny.

“Come on, kid,” she muttered under her breath, letting go of the railing and tugged idly at one of the gloves, still adjusting to the change. The outfit wasn’t bad, she had to admit, but it felt… unfamiliar. The polished simplicity of it didn’t quite match the chaos she was used to, but at least it wasn’t in tatters.

Sokka, standing a few feet away, gave her a sidelong glance. “You know,” he whispered conspiratorially, “—if you added a helmet and a boomerang, you’d almost look as cool as me.”

Jinx arched her brow, tilting her head. “Boomerang Boy, I wouldn’t wear a helmet even if it came with a free escape route.”

Sokka grinned, unfazed. “Suit yourself. But admit it—you’re starting to look like you belong.”

Jinx rolled her exhausted eyes. “Sure, if belonging means waiting around for Baldy to tame that thing.” She motioned toward Aang, who was slowly approaching the creature.

Aang, oblivious to their conversation, had reached the creature. Its massive head lowered, and he gently placed a hand on its snout. The tension in the air dissipated as the crowd exhaled all at once.

“Well, ya look at that,” Jinx muttered under her breath, watching as the creature seemed to warm to Aang, “He’s got a knack for making friends, doesn’t he?”

Katara smiled softly. “That’s just who Aang is. He’s kind, even when the world isn’t.”

Jinx’s smirk faltered slightly as she looked away, her voice dropping. “Yeah, well…the world doesn’t always deserve it.” turning, bending over to pick up her bag off the ground. 

The King blew a whistle, and the creature obediently set Aang down before climbing out of the enclosure as he stood triumphant, the King’s laughter echoed.

The group gathered around, their expressions ranging from relief to amazement at the Avatar’s success while Jinx lingered at the back of the group, her thoughts mulling over a moment of her newly donned attire catching the faint torchlight.

Gone were her tattered clothes, replaced with Earth Kingdom garb that hugged her figure with a surprising mix of practicality and style. A dark green halter crop top exposed her midriff, while fingerless gloves ran up her forearms, leaving her dexterous hands free. A matching skirt layered over loose, tapered pants, with slits on either side, offered both mobility and a touch of rebellion. 

Despite the earthy tones, the outfit still managed to suit her, blending the utilitarian with the faintest touch of elegance. She shifts her weight, adjusting the fabric as if still getting used to it, her pink eyes scanning with an air of detached curiosity.

Still...it felt weird...different.

“Well, Baldy,” Jinx drawled, tone dripping with nonchalance as she crossed her arms while her hand gripped her purple bag, “You actually managed to pull it off.”

Aang, who Airbended out of the enclosure, turned toward her, a wide grin on his face, “Thanks, Jinx!” happy that Jinx was on speaking terms with them again. 

Jinx smirked, leaning slightly on one leg. “Don’t get used to the compliments, Kiddo. I’m not exactly handing out trophies.” 

Katara approached alongside her, her eyes catching on the outfit, “Those look good on you, Jinx,” she said with a small smile.

Jinx glanced down at herself, tugging at the hem of her top. “Yeah? Well, it’s a bit…breezy. But hey, it’s not falling apart like my old clothes, so I’ll take it.”

Sokka piped up from the side, his arms crossed as he tilted his head in mock contemplation. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re starting to look like one of us.”

Jinx raised a brow, a mischievous glint in her tired eyes. “Don’t get any ideas, Boomerang Boy. These threads are just temporary.” She told him, as she then blew her long bangs off her face. 

“Alright!” the King’s voice boomed, cutting off the conversation, “Time for the final challenge!”

Jinx’s smirk faded as she fell back into step with the group, but not before muttering under her breath, as the group prepared to move on, Jinx glanced at Aang. He was smiling, his energy unshaken despite the chaos. For a moment, she envied his optimism. But the feeling passed quickly, replaced by the familiar weight in her chest.

The King’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Let’s see if you can really surprise me, Avatar.”

Jinx’s gaze lingered on Aang for a moment longer before she turned away, her expression unreadable.

The group followed the King into a massive Earthbending arena, the floor was a sprawling field of dirt and jagged stone, surrounded by high walls, and above it, two balconies faced each other.

Aang and the King stood on one, while Jinx, Sokka, and Katara gathered on the adjacent balcony, their expressions a mix of curiosity and unease.

The King raised his arms theatrically, his voice booming. “Your final test is a duel! And as a special treat, you may choose your opponent.”

Two burly Earth Kingdom guards stepped forward, both wielding sharp, intimidating weapons. Their armor clinked with each step, and they grinned menacingly as they flanked the King.

Aang’s face paled as he glanced at the two men. 

They looked anything but friendly.

“Point and choose!” the King announced, his mischievous grin widening as he gestured toward the guards.

Aang hesitated, swallowing nervously. “So… you’re saying whoever I point to, that’s the person I get to fight?”

The King leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with amusement, “Choose wisely!”

Aang’s gaze flicked between the two men, each looking more threatening than the last, their sharp weapons gleamed in the light, and Aang’s finger hovered indecisively.

Jinx, watching from across the balcony, crossed her muttering under her breath. “Bet he’s wishing for a third option right about now.”

“Come on, Aang.” Sokka whispered urgently, before leaning over the railing. “Pick the guy who looks slower!”

Aang’s indecision stretched on for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he turned back to the King, desperate to avoid the towering men entirely, “I…choose… you!” Aang exclaimed, pointing directly at the King.

The King’s eyes widened briefly before he let out a booming laugh. His grin turned almost feral, “Wrong choice!” Aang blinked in confusion, then flinched as the King straightened up, shrugging off his outer robe. Beneath it, the frail and eccentric old man revealed himself to be a powerfully built figure, his muscles taut and his stance solid as stone.

Jinx’s smirk vanished. “Oh…he’s ripped,” she muttered, eyebrows raised.

Without warning, the King stomped the ground, Earthbending a chunk of the balcony out from under Aang’s feet, yelping as he was launched into the arena below, landing with a thud.

The King followed suit, leaping from the balcony and landing with an earth-shaking crash. He stood before Aang, laughing heartily, “You thought I was a frail old man? Foolish boy! I am the most powerful Earthbender you’ll ever face!”

Aang scrambled to his feet, brushing dirt off his robes. “C-Can I fight the guy with the ax instead?” he asked with a nervous chuckle, glancing toward the men above.

The King wagged a finger at him. “There are no take-backsies in my kingdom! Besides…” He gestured upward to a guard standing behind Team Avatar. “You might need this.”

The guard tossed Aang’s glider staff into the arena, barely caught it before the King stomped the ground again, sending a shockwave rippling through the earth.

“Good luck, Avatar!” the King said with a wild grin, his feet planted firmly, ready for battle.

Above, Katara clutched the railing, her knuckles white. “This is insane! Aang can’t fight him!”

Sokka, however, watched with growing excitement. “Insane? This is incredible!!”

Jinx didn’t say anything, her pink eyes remained locked on Aang as he prepared for the fight of his life. She leaned against the balcony railing, arms crossed as she watched the duel unfold below, her glowing pink eyes followed every move with sharp focus, though her expression remained stoic.

The King started things off with a bang—literally—sending rocks hurtling at Aang with the kind of precision that came from years of experience as the boy darted around like a leaf caught in a gust of wind, dodging and weaving through the attacks without striking back.

“Typical Airbender tactic,” the King called out, his voice echoing through the arena, “Avoid and evade! I hoped the Avatar would be less predictable.”

Jinx tilted her head slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. ‘He’s got a point...sooner or later, he’s gonna have to stop running.’

“Come on, Aang,” Katara muttered under her breath.

The King continued his relentless assault, mocking Aang at every turn. “Don’t you have any surprises for me? Sooner or later, you’ll have to strike back!”

Jinx exhaled through her nose, her fingers tapping the metal railing as Aang looked like he was trying to figure out his next move, his expression a mix of concentration and nerves. When Aang finally launched himself into the air with his staff, spinning like some kind of helicopter.

Jinx arched an eyebrow. “Alright, Baldy, let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Baldy?” Sokka glanced over at her, his expression of amusement. “That’s the Avatar you’re talking about, y’know.”

Jinx shrugged, not bothering to meet his gaze. “You see any hair on that head? Didn’t think so.”

Sokka opened his mouth to retort.

Katara silenced him with a sharp glare. “Not the time, Sokka.”

Below, the King was already one step ahead of Aang, and with a stomp, he sent a massive boulder into the ceiling, raining chunks of rock down as one of the chunks clipped Aang, knocking him out of the air and sending him tumbling to the ground.

“Creative,” Jinx muttered, almost impressed, “But old man’s got more tricks up his sleeve than you think.”

“Aang’s fine,” Katara said quickly, though there was a nervous edge to her voice, “He’s just figuring it out.”

“Sure he is,” Jinx replied, her tone flat.

Aang scrambled to his feet and tried charging on foot, but the King easily countered with a series of rapid Earthbending strikes as pillars of rock shot up from the ground, forcing Aang to twist and leap to avoid them.

“Yeesh,” Jinx said under her breath, glancing at Katara and Sokka. “How’s the Kiddo supposed to win this? The King’s playing him like a fiddle.”

Sokka frowned. “Hey, Aang’s got this! He’s the Avatar!”

“Yeah? Then tell him to stop getting buried under rocks.” Jinx said. 

Sokka opened his mouth.

Katara cut in, her voice firm. “Aang will find a way.”

“Sure,” Jinx replied, but her fingers tapped the railing faster now, betraying her growing tension.

The King’s taunts continued, each one sharper than the last. “You’ll have to be a little more creative than that!” he called out with a grin that was equal parts crazed and amused.

Aang’s frustration was starting to show.

Jinx could see it in the way his movements became more aggressive, less precise as he conjured one of those ‘Air Scooters’ and zipped forward, throwing a powerful air blast at the King.

Jinx leaned forward, curious to see if it would land.

It didn’t.

The King bent a stone barrier just in time, deflecting the blast harmlessly to the sides. “Did someone leave the windows open?” the King teased, “It feels a little drafty in here. Are you hoping I’ll catch a cold?”

Jinx rolled her eyes as she threw her head back dramatically. “Oh, come on, Baldy, hit him with something good already!”

“Jinx!” Katara scolded, glaring at her. “He’s trying his best!”

“Maybe his best isn’t enough,” Jinx replied, tone biting. “That old guy’s eating him alive out there.”

Sokka frowned. “Well, if you think it’s so easy, why don’t you jump in and show him how it’s done?”

Jinx didn’t answer, her eyes locked on the arena as Aang tried again, but the King wasn’t letting up, he bent the ground into loose soil, trapping Aang up to his waist. Jinx winced as two massive stones crashed toward him, only for Aang to narrowly escape by leaping to the top of the colliding rocks.

“Close one,” She uttered, her fingers twitching against the railing.

Aang finally started fighting back with more force, bent the slab the King was standing on, sending it sliding across the arena.

Jinx’s lips quirked into the faintest hint of a smirk. ‘There you go, Kiddo. Give him a run for his money.’

But the King wasn’t done. He bent the largest boulder yet and sent it hurtling toward Aang as Jinx’s eyes widened as Aang flipped over it just in time, his movements quick but growing more desperate. Then the King ripped a massive chunk of stone from the wall, cracking the arena floor and tearing part of the balcony they were standing on.

Jinx’s grip on the railing tightened. “This guy’s not messing around,” glancing at Sokka and Katara. 

“Aang’s fine,” Katara said quickly, though her voice trembled slightly.

Aang saw the enormous stone coming and quickly conjured a tornado, spinning in tight circles, the wind howled through the arena as the tornado caught the massive rock and whipped it around, sending it hurtling back toward the King.

Jinx’s eyes narrowed, watching the King bend the projectile into sand before it could hit him. He’s fast. Too fast for Aang to win like this.

But Aang wasn’t done. Using the tornado’s momentum, he launched himself into the air and landed right in front of the King, his staff poised to strike.

For a moment, Jinx thought he might actually pull it off.

Then a pebble floated up and bonked Aang on the head.

Jinx scoffed. “Figures.”

Sokka groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Why does it always end like this?”

Aang glanced up to see a massive boulder hovering above them both as the King, however, was grinning.

“Well done, Avatar.” the King said, his voice full of pride. “You fight with much fire in your heart.” With a flick of his wrist, bent the boulder aside and stepped back and he shot up to their balcony with ease, using Earthbending to propel himself.

Jinx watched, Aang took a moment to catch his breath before following suit, using Airbending to join them as the boy landed beside her.

Jinx gave him a sidelong glance. “Not bad, Baldy. But next time, try not to almost get crushed, yeah?” tilting her head to the side. 

Aang gave her a sheepish grin.

Jinx almost smiled back.

Almost.

“You’ve passed all my tests. Now, you must answer one question,” the King declared to Aang, his voice carrying a tone of finality, though his ever-present mischievous grin gave away his enjoyment of their confusion.

Sokka groaned loudly, throwing his arms into the air. “What?! That’s not fair! You said we were free once Aang finished all your crazy challenges!” His tone bordered on desperate, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Jinx, leaning lazily against the balcony railing, scoffed. “Yeah, didn’t we get enough out of your demented obstacle course? Or is this just your way of proving you’re the most annoying Earthbender alive?”

The King chuckled, utterly unbothered by their complaints. “Oh, but what is the point of a test if you don’t learn anything?” He clasped his hands behind his back, giving a warm smile that felt maddeningly out of place given the circumstances.

Sokka groaned again, dragging his palms down his face. “Oh, come on!”

Jinx muttered under her breath. “Starting to think this guy’s not just old but certifiably nuts.”

The King ignored their frustration and leaned toward Aang. “Answer this one question, and you are all free to go,” He said with dramatic flair, as though he were bestowing a great gift.

Aang tilted his head in curiosity. “What’s the question?”

The King straightened up, his grin widening. “What…is my name?”

The group froze, exchanging bewildered glances.

“How am I supposed to know his name?” Aang asked, stepping back to huddle with his friends.

Katara furrowed her brow. “Think about the challenges,” she said thoughtfully, “Maybe it’s some kind of riddle?” Her eyes darted between Sokka and Jinx, hoping for input.

Sokka’s expression lit up, and he snapped his fingers. “I got it!”

Aang leaned in hopefully. “Yeah?”

“He’s an Earthbender, right? So…Rocky. You know, because of all the rocks.” Sokka grinned as though he’d cracked the greatest mystery of their time.

Jinx stared at him, deadpan. “Wow, Boomerang Boy. Pure genius. Let’s carve that one on a trophy.” 

Katara sighed, shaking her head. “We’re going to keep brainstorming, but that…might not be our best guess,” she said delicately, though her tone carried an edge of exasperation.

Jinx, rubbing her temples, groaned. “Look, let’s stop guessing names. Think about the tests.” She gestured at Aang, “This guy’s name is probably another puzzle.”

Aang nodded slowly, his grey eyes narrowing in concentration. “Okay, let’s break it down. I got the key from the waterfall, I saved his pet, and I had a duel.”

Katara leaned closer. “What did you learn from all of that?”

Aang frowned, his mind racing. “Well…everything was different than I expected…” He paused, his expression clearing as realization struck, “None of it was straightforward. To solve each test, I had to think differently than I usually would.”

Jinx smirked faintly, crossing her arms. “There you go, Baldy. You just answered your own question.”

Aang’s face lit up as the pieces finally clicked together. “I know his name!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. He turned to the King, confidence radiating from him, “I solved the question the same way I solved the challenges. As you said a long time ago, I had to open my brain to the possibilities.”

The King let out a booming laugh, his odd snorting echoing through the room as Aang’s eyes widened as the laugh triggered a distant, yet vivid memory.

“Bumi!” Aang, his face breaking into a wide smile, “You’re a mad genius!”

Bumi beamed, clearly delighted. “And you, my dear friend, are still as sharp as ever!”

Without hesitation, Aang ran forward and threw his arms around Bumi, laughing joyfully. Tears pricked at the corners of his grey eyes as he hugged his childhood friend tightly.

Katara stared at them, her mouth hanging open in shock. “Wait…he is Bumi?”

Sokka blinked, his arms dropping to his sides. “We went through all of that for a reunion?” He shook his head, clearly unimpressed.

Jinx crossed her arms, smirking.  “Honestly, it tracks. Only Baldy would know the craziest Earthbender alive.” She leaned casually against the railing, “Still, gotta admit—watching him figure it out was…almost worth the headache.”

Katara smiled softly, watching Aang laugh and talk animatedly with Bumi. “It’s nice to see him so happy. He really needed this.”

“Happy?” Sokka exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Bumi. “That guy almost crushed him with boulders!”

Jinx tilted her head, her smirk widening. “Aw, don’t be jealous, Boomerang Boy. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone will toss rocks at you, too.”

Sokka shot her a glare but couldn’t fully hide the smile tugging at his lips. Meanwhile, Aang and Bumi laughed together like no time had passed, their bond stronger than ever despite the century that had separated them.

“Oh, Aang, it’s good to see you,” Bumi said warmly, his voice tinged with emotion as he hugged his best friend tightly, with his signature snort-laugh, he added, “You haven’t changed a bit. Literally.”

Aang chuckled, hugging Bumi back with a mix of joy and disbelief. It was hard to process, his best friend—the same Bumi who’d always been a little strange, a little brilliant—was here, older, but alive, and still Bumi.

For Bumi, this moment was nothing short of a miracle.

For one hundred years, he’d thought Aang was gone, lost along with the rest of the Air Nomads. He’d believed his best friend had perished in the Fire Nation’s ruthless genocide, but here Aang was, very much alive.

Not only that, but the Avatar had returned to the world, and perhaps most astonishing of all, Aang wasn’t alone in his identity as the last Airbender. 

There was Jinx. 

Bumi’s gaze flickered to the strange blue-haired girl standing just behind Aang, her glowing pink eyes sharp and calculating, her fingers tugging anxiously at the hem of her new tunic. She was still clearly adjusting to the softer Earth Kingdom fabric, her hands moving restlessly as if searching for the familiar weight of her own tools or weapons.

Jinx caught him staring and narrowed her eyes at him, a silent warning not to make her the center of attention.

Bumi grinned inwardly—this girl was a fighter, no doubt about it. But there was something in her stance, the way she kept just enough distance from everyone, that hinted at deeper scars.

Sokka, breaking the tender moment and blurted. “Okay, but seriously—why? Why did you put us through all of that instead of just telling Aang who you were from the start?”

Bumi snorted, his expression gleeful. “First of all, it’s pretty fun messing with people.”

Sokka groaned loudly, throwing his head back in frustration.

But then, just as quickly as the humor appeared, Bumi’s expression shifted to one of solemnity as his grin faded into a firm, serious expression that silenced the group immediately.

“But,” Bumi continued, his voice lowering, “I do have a reason.”

Jinx’s fidgeting stilled, fingers froze mid-tug at her sleeve as she locked her eyes on Bumi, her sharp gaze cutting through the room. She had suspected there was more to his antics than sheer madness, and now she was determined to hear every word.

Bumi and Aang slowly broke their embrace, and Bumi placed his large, weathered hands on Aang’s young shoulders as the old king’s green eyes bore into Aang’s grey ones, trying to communicate the weight of the world itself.

“Aang,” Bumi said gravely, “—you have a difficult task ahead.”

Aang’s smile faded, replaced with a deep frown, shoulders slumped slightly as he felt the heavy truth sink into him.

“The world has changed in the hundred years that you’ve been gone,” Bumi continued, “It’s the duty of the Avatar to restore balance to the world by defeating Fire Lord Ozai.”

At the mention of the Fire Lord, Jinx’s eyes narrowed. She glanced at Aang, watching the subtle way his jaw clenched and his fists tightened at his sides.

Bumi pressed on, his tone grim. “You have much to learn, Aang. You must master the four elements and confront the Fire Lord.”

Jinx’s glowing pink eyes flicked to Aang, who stood there listening to Bumi, his expression solemn. 

Her thoughts churned, ‘How do they expect him to stop this war? He’s too…soft. Too gentle. This boy doesn’t have it in him to do what they’re asking. Not against someone like this Fire Lord guy.’

She felt her jaw tighten, a cold chill running down her spine. Aang might be the Avatar, but to Jinx, he was still just a naive kid—someone who would crumble under the weight of what the world demanded of him.

“And when you do,” Bumi said, his voice softening as he gave Aang a wink, “I hope you will think like a mad genius.”

Aang blinked, caught off guard by the sudden levity, but Bumi’s warm smile reassured him.

Bumi turned his gaze to the rest of the group. “And it looks like you’re in good hands.” he said, gesturing to Katara, Sokka, and Jinx, “You’ll need your friends to help you defeat the Fire Nation.”

Momo, who had been missing for much of the day, chose that moment to scamper into the throne room, chittering excitedly. He leapt onto Aang’s shoulder, nuzzling the boy’s cheek as Aang broke into a soft, grateful smile.

Bumi chuckled heartily. “And you’ll need Momo, too,” he added, reaching out to gently pat the little lemur’s head. Momo purred happily in response, much to everyone’s amusement.

Jinx, however, remained quiet. Her fingers resumed tugging at the hem of her new tunic, her mind preoccupied as she glanced at Aang, studying the way he smiled through the weight of Bumi’s words.

‘You’re too soft for this world, kid. That’s going to get you killed.’ Jinx’s pink eyes lingered on Aang’s hopeful smile, and her stomach twisted.

He didn’t have it in him—not the ruthlessness, not the grit it took to survive a world like this. She could see it plain as day. The kid’s all heart, no edge, and in a war like this? Heart wasn’t enough. It never was.

Her grip tightened on the hem of her tunic. ‘They’re expecting a savior, but all I see is a walking target.’

Jinx’s fingers kept fidgeting with the edge of her tunic, her mind drifting to her sketches—her inventions— Meowzers, Whiskers, and her beloved Flame Chompers, Zapper Pow-Pow, Zap, and let’s not forget Fishbones. Tools of chaos and survival, born out of necessity and perfected by pain. She could practically feel the weight of her wrench in her hand, the spark of her Hextech crystal twisting it into place.

Jinx didn’t blame Aang—hell, she envied him. That softness, that hope he carried, it was a luxury she’d lost a very long time ago, but hopes and dreams didn’t stop a war.

Explosives did. 

Her pink eyes narrowed, and her hands stilled. ‘If he won’t dirty his hands, I will.’

Jinx made her decision right then and there. She needed to build again. The sooner the better. Not for herself, but for Aang—for the fight he wasn’t ready to face.

She'll start something not too overwhelming for Aang, Smoke bombs, she decided. A distraction he can use for himself, something to keep him safe, something to give him the edge he doesn’t have. And when the time came for something bigger — something sharper, louder —well, she’d handle that too.

Jinx smirked bitterly. ‘Let Baldy keep his hands clean. For now. I’m already neck-deep in the mud. What’s a little more dirt?’ Her grip loosened, and she looked away, retreating back into her thoughts.

Bumi turned his attention to Jinx at last, his expression shifting from playful to contemplative. “And you,” he said, his voice soft but weighted, “Stormbringer.”

Jinx stiffened at the title, her pink eyes narrowing in suspicion. She wasn’t sure what to make of this mad king and his theatrics.

The term wasn’t exactly foreign to her—Zaun had its own legends of storm gods, of wild forces that brought both chaos and renewal—but to hear it directed at her, by him, felt…off.

'Stormbringer?’ Aang eyes widening slightly, confused. He didn’t understand what Bumi meant, but the way his old friend spoke carried a gravity that made the words linger in the air.

Bumi, however, seemed unfazed by her sharp gaze. His mind wandered back to the first moment he had laid eyes on her, yesterday when the guards brought her and her group before him. He had been prepared. 

Until he was caught off guard.

‘Jinx…she is something else entirely .’ Bumi recalled the vivid image as clearly as if it had just happened: A single blue feather , impossibly vibrant, floating down through the air above her head.

At first, he thought it was just a trick of the light, but when she bent the air—sharp, wild, and untamed—the feather began to move. It spun in a whirlwind of her emotions, smoking faintly as if caught between burning and being extinguished.

And those eyes.

Those brilliant, glowing pink eyes.

Bumi remembered the way they locked onto his, full of defiance, pain, and something deeper—something ancient in her glare, he saw storms waiting to be unleashed.

The feather had never touched the ground. It simply hovered, rotating around her like a living thing, tethered to her storm of emotions. When her bending subsided, so did the feather’s frantic movement, yet it remained, drifting as if caught in an invisible current.

At the feast the night before, he had seen it again. It reappeared during quiet moments, circling her like a phantom, vanishing whenever he blinked. He had kept the observation to himself, unsure of its significance but knowing it wasn’t a coincidence.

And now, standing before her, Bumi couldn’t shake the feeling that the feather—and Jinx herself—were tied to something far greater. He saw it in the way she carried herself, the way she sized up the world like a soldier hardened by war.

Jinx didn’t wear the same hope and innocence as Aang or his companions. She was a warrior. A survivor. Someone who understood the true cost of survival.

In her, Bumi saw duality—hope and despair, balance and chaos, creation and destruction. She and Aang were like opposite sides of the same coin, their fates intertwined by forces beyond comprehension.

Bumi leaned closer, his gaze unreadable. “You are stronger than you realize,” he said cryptically, “—but on its own alone isn’t enough. The storm you carry will shape you—but it will also test you.”

Jinx scowled, crossing her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean, old man?”

Aang’s curious gaze shifted, watching her stiffen under the weight of Bumi’s words, her usual defiant expression masking whatever emotions stirred beneath.

Bumi only chuckled, his tone playful once more. “Oh, you’ll figure it out. You’re smart. You’ve got that spark about you. Just…don’t lose sight of what matters most.” He straightened, his eyes glinting with wisdom. “And remember, the greatest answers often come wrapped in riddles.”

Jinx rolled her eyes but didn’t press further, didn’t like the way he looked at her, as if he knew something she didn’t, but deep down, his words unsettled her.

Bumi turned back to Aang, his smile returned, but his mind lingered on Jinx. He’d have to contact a certain White Lotus member soon—this “blue feather” wasn’t something to ignore.

Whatever it meant, it wasn’t just happenstance.

It was a sign.

'And signs,' Bumi thought, 'has a way of pointing toward destiny.

Aang stepped forward, his voice gentle but firm. “Bumi, what do you mean by that? Why are you calling her that?”

Bumi chuckled softly, his usual mirth returning as he looked at his old friend, “Ah, Aang, always asking questions. That’s good—it means you’re still you.” He gestured toward Jinx with a knowing look, “She’s got her own path, Aang. Just as you do. But the winds are funny things, aren’t they? They carry us where we’re meant to be, whether we’re ready or not.”

Aang frowned, his confusion deepening, glances at Jinx, who stood rigid, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable as she refused to meet his eyes.

“Jinx is strong,” Aang said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else, “She’s been through so much, but she’s still standing. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?” 

Bumi smiled, his eyes twinkling with wisdom, “Exactly, my young friend. She’s here for a reason—just like you are. You’ll figure it out in time.”

Aang wanted to press further, to understand what Bumi saw in Jinx that he didn’t, but something in the king’s expression told him the answers wouldn’t come easily.

Aang turned to Jinx, his voice soft. “Are you okay?”

Jinx scoffed, the corners of her mouth twitching in a smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be? Old man’s just spouting riddles, same as always.”

Aang didn’t miss the way her fingers twitched slightly, or the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. He slowly learning well enough now to recognize when she was deflecting again.

“Whatever this means—whatever Bumi’s talking about—we’ll figure it out together.” He said earnestly,

Jinx blinked at him blankly, shifting uncomfortably by his sincerity, and for a moment and she almost said something, but then she shrugged, her mask slipping back into place.

“Yeah, yeah,” She muttered, looking away, “Let’s just get on with it, Baldy.”

Aang’s heart sank slightly, but he didn’t push, just smiled at her, his optimism unwavering. No matter what storms Jinx carried, he’d be there to help her weather them.

Aang turned to Bumi, bowing respectfully with a soft smile on his face. “Thank you for your wisdom, Bumi.” he said sincerely. “But before we leave…” he trailed off with a playful glint sparked in his gray eyes as his smile widens.

Bumi raised a bushy eyebrow, his grin already forming as he leaned forward. “Yes, Aang?”

“I have a challenge for you.” Aang said brightly, his excitement infectious.

Bumi’s laughter echoed through the throne room. “Now that’s what I like to hear! A challenge from my old friend! Let’s see if we've still got it.”

Jinx crossed her arms leaning against the wall.. “This should be good…” 

Katara and Sokka exchanged amused but exasperated looks, already bracing for whatever chaos was about to unfold.

The familiar sight of Omashu’s elaborate mail system, a labyrinth of chutes and ramps crisscrossing the city. Aang and Bumi were seated on a large delivery cart, hurtling down the twisting tracks at breakneck speed. The wind whipped through their hair as they laughed together, carefree and full of life, just like old times.

“Faster, Aang!” Bumi shouted, his voice filled with giddy enthusiasm as he leaned forward.

“You got it, Bumi!” Aang replied, laughing as he leaned into a sharp turn, the cart screeching against the rails.

The cart raced through the streets of Omashu, dodging obstacles and narrowly avoiding collisions with workers and citizens. The city buzzed with shouts and laughter as the two old friends brought chaos wherever they went.

The dust cloud from the cart’s path trailed through the streets, spiraling up into the air. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed, followed by a familiar, anguished cry:

“My cabbages!!!”

The hapless cabbage merchant, his stall overturned and his precious cabbages scattered across the street. He fell to his knees, shaking his fists toward the sky. Back at the end of the track Aang and Bumi tumbled off, laughing breathlessly as they lay sprawled on the ground.

“That… was…amazing!” Bumi wheezed, clutching his side.

Aang grinned, sitting up and brushing dust off his clothes. “Just like old times, huh?”

Bumi patted Aang on the back. “You haven’t lost your spark, my friend. That’s the Aang I remember!”

They stood back up and began walking back to the castle, Bumi chuckled to himself. “Poor cabbage merchant. I don’t think he’ll ever catch a break.”

Aang laughed, shaking his head. “Probably not.”

Aang, Sokka, Katara, and Jinx returned to their guest room after Bumi’s cryptic words lingered in their minds. The faint clink of armor and the distant murmur of Omashu’s bustling streets outside filled the quiet gaps in their conversation.

“Stormbringer…” Sokka said, scratching his head as he tossed his boomerang onto one of the neatly folded beds. “Sounds…ominous, don’t you think? Like something out of a Fire Nation propaganda play.”

Katara rolled her eyes, settling her water pouch by the nightstand. “Maybe Bumi’s just being Bumi. You know how he is—always with the riddles and grand statements.”

Aang furrowed his brow, his arms crossed as he paced near the window. “Still, it felt…important. Like he wasn’t just say it andnot mean anything by it. Why would he call her that?” His gaze flicked to Jinx, who had gone quiet, rummaging through her belongings left on the bed.

Jinx didn’t look up, her pink eyes focused on shoving her tools into her green bag. “Beats me,” she muttered. “I’m not looking to be anyone’s storm-anything. He can keep his weird nicknames.”

“Yeah, well,” Sokka said, flopping onto the mattress, “—as long as it doesn’t mean you’re about to start raining fire and lightning on us, we’re good.”

“Don’t give her any ideas,” Katara teased, smirking.

Jinx ignored them, grabbing the last of her things and heading toward the bathroom. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she mumbled.

The sound of the door clicking shut was followed by a brief silence. Then, predictably, Sokka spoke up. “You know, I bet ‘Stormbringer’ would look awesome on a wanted poster. Like, picture this—‘Wanted: Jinx the Stormbringer. Reward: five thousand gold pieces.’”

“You’re impossible,” Katara said, swatting at his arm while Aang chuckled.

Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, Jinx bent down to pick up her signature clothes—the worn-out crop top, pants, her belt, and the empty gun sling that had become a part of her identity as she straightened back up, her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror.

She stilled.

The face staring back at her was familiar, yet foreign. Her skin, pale as ever, bore faint shadows beneath her eyes despite the bath she had taken earlier. Her thin frame was draped in the Earth Kingdom clothes she had begrudgingly borrowed, but they didn’t feel like hers. Not really.

Jinx lingered there, her pink eyes tracing over every detail in the mirror. Slowly, she set her clothes down on the edge of the sink. She reached for her damp hair, smoothing it out with her fingers before beginning to braid it back into its signature twin braids. The long bangs fell over the sides of her face, framing it as she worked.

Once done, she checked the pockets of her pants and fished out a small, battered golden container. Its surface was scuffed, and tiny neon X’s and an angry monkey’s face were etched into the metal. Flipping it open, she dabbed two fingertips into the black powder inside. With practiced ease, she rubbed the powder over her eyelids, giving herself the familiar, smudged look she hadn’t worn since arriving in this world.

Jinx studied herself again. The braids. The darkened eyes. The clothes. This was her—a reflection of who she had been, for better or worse. She nodded slightly, her bangs bouncing forward and brushing against her cheek.

“Good enough,” she muttered under her breath. When she stepped out of the bathroom, the banter in the room hit her like a gust of warm air.

Aang and Sokka were animatedly discussing what kind of nicknames Bumi might give them, while Katara tried and failed to suppress her laughter.

“‘Sokka the Meatbringer’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Aang teased.

“Hey, at least it’s honest!” Sokka shot back. “What about ‘Aang the Baldy-Bringer’? That’s got a real poetic touch.”

Aang snorted mid-laugh, clutching his stomach. “The Baldy-Bringer? Oh yeah, fear me and my shiny head of doom!” He made a dramatic pose, rubbing the top of his head until it gleamed in the light.

Sokka threw a pillow at him. “Mock all you want, but I had meat last time! Perfectly trapped—ready for dinner. Then, poof! Gone! You know what’s suspicious? The sudden gusts of wind that keep happening right before my prey escapes in my hunts.”

Aang tried, and failed, to look innocent. “Wind? In the open wilderness? That's just nature.”

Sokka squinted, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Aang. You’ve been air-bending them away, haven’t you? My food just keeps mysteriously flying off into the trees! I know it's you!”

Aang held up both hands defensively. “Sokka, I told you a hundred times that I don't know what you're talking about!”

Sokka shot up from the bed, pointing an accusing finger right at Aang. “Oh, you knew! You totally knew! Just like you knew before you burned my seal jerky on purpose!”

Aang groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Why does this always come back to the seal jerky."

“Because you’re guilty!” Sokka said, crossing his arms. "The look on your face, too! That guilty, Avatar look!”

Aang threw his arms up. “There’s no proof!”

Katara let out a snort. “The Avatar look?”

Sokka nodded sagely, pacing the room like a detective in deep thought. “Oh yeah. The ‘oops-I-accidentally-ruined-someone’s-food-again’ look. I know it anywhere.”

“Okay, that’s not even a thing,” Aang groaned, flopping backward onto his bed, a pillow muffling his frustrated laugh.

“It is now!” Sokka shot back.

Jinx leaned against the doorframe, having quietly slipped out of the bathroom mid-chaos, her freshly re-braided hair catching the lantern light. The sight before her was so absurdly normal—so alive—that for a moment, she just watched, taking it in.

Then, her smirk curved into something sharper. “Wow. This is what I missed? Seal jerky court trials?”

Sokka whirled toward her, hand on his chest. “Thank you! Finally, someone who gets the seriousness of the situation!”

“Seriousness?” Jinx echoed, crossing her arms, the glint in her pink eyes teasing. “Yeah, you look real traumatized, Boomerang Boy.”

Aang peeked over his pillow, relief flickering in his grin when he saw her before sitting up and waved her over. “Hey, Jinx! You’re missing all the fun. Come on, what nickname do you think Bumi would give Katara?”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “I dunno. ‘Waterwitch’? ‘Mom-in-Chief’? ‘Storm-Sticker’ for putting up with you guys?”

Katara groaned, though her lips twitched into a smile. “Oh, great, now you’re joining in.”

Sokka grinned and patted the spot next to him on the bed. “See? She gets it. Come on, Jinx. Sit down. Let’s come up with some good ones for you too.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, but there was no bite to it. “You’re all ridiculous.” as she walked over anyway, letting their chatter and laughter wrap around her like a blanket.

For now, the storm within could wait.

The courtyard was quiet, save for the distant hum of Omashu’s bustling streets outside as Aang sat cross-legged on the ground, motioning for Jinx to join him.

“Before we get to bending,” Aang began, his tone calm yet encouraging, “—we need to start with the basics. Breathing control is everything in airbending. If you can’t control your breath, you can’t control the air around you.”

Jinx groaned, plopping down across from him with an exaggerated sigh. “Great. Sitting still and breathing. Sounds thrilling.”

Aang chuckled, unbothered by her sarcasm. “I know it sounds boring but trust me—it’s important. Just follow my lead.” Aang closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

Jinx huffed, mirrored his cross-legged position.

“Breathe in through your nose,” Aang said softly, his voice almost melodic. “Feel it fill your lungs. Hold it for a moment…then let it out through your mouth.”

Jinx mimicked him, inhaling deeply, but halfway through, choked on her breath, coughing violently. “Ugh, what is this? Breathing boot camp?”

Aang opened one eye, grinning. “It’s harder than it looks, huh?”

Jinx shot him a glare but tried again. This time, her breathing was shallow and uneven, her impatience evident in the way her foot tapped against the ground.

“Slow down,” Aang encouraged, “Don’t force it. Just let it happen naturally.”

“I don’t do slow,” Jinx muttered, her pink eyes flickering to the sky.

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Aang said gently, earning another scowl from her.

Katara and Sokka, watching from a shaded corner of the courtyard, exchanged amused looks.

“She’s not exactly the meditative type.” Sokka whispered.

“Give her time,” Katara replied. “If anyone can teach her, it’s Aang.”

Back in the center of the courtyard, Jinx growled in frustration, throwing her hands in the air. “This is stupid! I don’t need breathing lessons—I need to learn how to use this stupid bending!”

Jinx gets back up from her resting place, began pacing, but Aang didn’t flinch at her outburst.

Instead, he smiled softly, his calm demeanor unshaken. “I get it. You’re used to action, to moving fast. But airbending isn’t like that. It’s about finding balance and the first step to balance is your breath.” 

Jinx stared at him, her frustration simmering, but there was something in his tone—an unshakable belief in her—that made her pause, with a heavy sigh, she sat back down.

“Fine.” She grumbled. “But if I pass out from all this breathing nonsense, it’s on you, Baldy.”

Aang chuckled. “Deal.”

They resumed the exercise, Jinx’s breathing still uneven but slightly improving as Aang guided her patiently, his words steady and soothing.

“Good,” He said. “Now, keep it going. Feel the air around you. Imagine it flowing with your breath, like a river.”

For a moment, Jinx felt it—a faint connection to the air around her. It was fleeting, barely there, but enough to make her eyes widen slightly.

Aang noticed and grinned. “See? You’re getting it!”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Jinx muttered, but there was no venom in her tone this time.

As the session ended, Katara walked over with a canteen of water, handing it to Jinx.  “You did great,” she said warmly.

Jinx took the canteen and shrugged. “Whatever. It’s just breathing.” as she sipped the water, a flicker of pride crossed her face.

The afternoon sunbathed the courtyard in a golden glow as Aang sat cross-legged across from Jinx a the frustration from earlier had eased slightly, though Jinx’s patience was still hanging by a thread.

Aang smiled warmly. “I know breathing exercises can seem boring, but they’re not just about bending air. Breathing is how we connect to the world around us. It’s also how we survive in extreme conditions.”

Jinx arched an eyebrow, her pink eyes skeptical. “Extreme conditions, huh? Like what?”

“Like staying warm in the cold,” Aang replied. “Airbenders can’t make fire like Firebenders, but we’ve learned to use our breathing to control the air around us. It’s called thermal regulation.”

“Thermal what-now?” Jinx asked, leaning forward slightly.

“It’s about creating a layer of warm air around your body by controlling your breath,” Aang explained. “When you regulate your breathing, you can manipulate the air’s flow to stay comfortable, even in freezing temperatures. Monks taught it to us as a way to survive without needing extra clothes or blankets.”

Sokka, who had been eavesdropping from the shade, walked over with an exaggerated shiver. “That explains why you are so comfortable—you don’t even need jackets when it’s freezing out! That’s cheating!”

Katara chuckled. “Sounds like airbending has its perks.”

Jinx leaned back, arms crossed. “So, what, you just breathe the cold away? Sounds too good to be true.”

Aang grinned. “It takes practice, but it works. Here, I’ll show you.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his body visibly relaxing as the air around him seemed to hum, subtle but noticeable and when he exhaled, a faint wisp of warm air surrounded him.

“Feel that?” He asked, gesturing for Jinx to step closer.

Hesitant, Jinx stood and reached out. Her pink eyes widened slightly as she felt a faint warmth radiating from Aang, even though the breeze around them was cool.

“Huh,” she muttered, pulling her hand back, “That’s…weird.”

“It’s all about breathing control,” Aang said, his tone encouraging, “Want to give it a try?”

Jinx hesitated, her gaze flicking to the others, Sokka gave her a thumbs-up, while Katara nodded encouragingly.

“Alright...I'll try.” she said with a sigh.

Aang smiled. “Okay, start by focusing on your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow and steady, like before.”

Jinx closed her eyes, following his instructions breathing slow and to steady.

“Now,” Aang continued, “—imagine the air around you wrapping you in a warm blanket. Let your breath guide it.”

Jinx frowned, her eyebrows knitting together in concentration. She exhaled slowly, and for a brief moment, she felt a flicker of warmth—not much, but enough to make her eyes snap open.

“Whoa,” She muttered, glancing at her hands as if expecting to see the warmth, “Did that just…?”

“You’re getting it!” Aang said, beaming.

“Don’t get too excited, Baldy.” Jinx muttered, though there was a hint of a smirk on her lips.

“It’s not just about staying warm.” Aang added. “Once you master this, it can help you in battles too. Controlling your breath gives you focus, keeps you calm, and makes your movements sharper.”

Katara stepped closer, wrapping her arms around herself as a gust of wind picked up. “It’s amazing how practical airbending is. I guess you don’t realize how much breathing affects everything until you focus on it.”

Jinx glanced at Aang, her expression softening slightly. “Alright, Baldy. Show me more of this breathing magic.”

Aang grinned, eager to continue. “Okay, but remember—patience is key. This is just the beginning.”

As the lesson went on, Jinx’s frustration began to ebb, replaced by a quiet determination. For the first time, she felt like there was more to airbending—and maybe, just maybe it was something she could learn to control.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting golden hues across the gates of Omashu. The air felt lighter as Team Avatar stood outside the city walls, their supplies packed and ready for their next journey as the burlap sack stuffed with food and water sat at Sokka’s feet, its contents clinking faintly as he adjusted it over his shoulder.

“Bumi really outdid himself,” Sokka said, patting the sack appreciatively. “This is enough to last us a week! Maybe two if we’re careful.”

“More like three days if you’re in charge of the food,” Katara teased, earning a mock glare from her brother.

“There’s our big guy,” Aang smiled, his attention towards Appa, who let out a deep rumble of affection when the boy scratched behind his ear, “—ready for another adventure?”

Momo chittered, hopping from Aang’s shoulder to Appa’s head, his tiny hands patting the sky bison’s fur as the lemur squeaked excitedly.

Jinx hung back slightly, her pink eyes scanning the open road ahead as the last traces of Omashu lingered behind her—its towering walls and winding streets—but her gaze didn’t waver. She tightened the strap of her two bags over her shoulder, her expression unreadable.

“Jinx, come on!” Aang called, gesturing for her to join them. “Appa’s waiting.”

With a small sigh, Jinx trudged forward, her braids swinging lightly, and when she reached Appa, she hesitated for a moment before running a hand over his thick fur. 

“Big, fluffy flying bison,” Jinx murmured, more to herself than anyone else softly with a small smile. “Can’t say I’ve seen anything like you before.” 

Appa let out a low, pleased rumble as her hands ghost over his fur, Jinx raised an eyebrow, “Huh. Guess you’re not so bad.”

Sokka grinned as he climbed onto Appa’s saddle. “See? Everyone loves Appa. Even Stormbringer over here.”

Jinx shot him a sharp look. “Call me that again, and I’ll test how far you can fly without wings.”

“Okay, okay! Sheesh,” Sokka said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Katara smiled before climbed aboard, shaking her head at their banter as Aang climbed into the driver’s seat, taking hold of the reins, not before turning back at Omashu one last time, the city’s silhouette glowing in the late-afternoon light.

His gray eyes softened, a mix of fondness and determination flickering across his face. “Goodbye, Bumi,” he murmured. Then, with a firm tug on the reins, he called out, “Yip, yip!”

Appa’s massive tail swished, and with a powerful leap, he lifted into the air as the ground fell away beneath them as they soared higher, the wind whipping through their hair and clothes. Momo chirped excitedly, scampering across the saddle to perch beside Aang.

Jinx clung to the edge of the saddle, her expression tightening as she glanced down at the shrinking landscape below. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” she muttered.

“You will,” Aang said, glancing back at her with a reassuring smile.

The bison soared higher, the sprawling land of the Earth Kingdom stretching out before them as Omashu grew smaller and smaller in the distance until it was just another dot on the horizon.

As the gang settled in for the journey, the sky turned shades of orange and pink, the sun dipping closer to the horizon. For a moment, everything felt peaceful—just the wind, the sky, and the promise of the path ahead.

The sky shifted into shades of deep amber and lavender as Appa soared through the tranquil evening air, his rhythmic wingbeats carrying Team Avatar toward their next destination. Momo darted around the saddle, chittering curiously, while the group chatted amongst themselves, laughing and swapping stories about the day’s events.

Meanwhile, Jinx sat at the back of the saddle, her legs crossed as she sifted through her stack of miniature discs. She tuned out the others’ laughter, letting their voices fade into the background.

Her fingers traced over the discs absentmindedly, each one bearing a title in the language of her lost world. Jinx’s hand froze as she came upon a particular disc, she frowned, her expression tightening as a pang of emotion struck her.

The surface of the disc gleamed faintly in the waning light of the moon.

She had nearly forgotten about it.

This wasn’t just any disc—it was something she had taken from the Last Drop, from Silco’s safe. Back then, she hadn’t thought much of it, only grabbing it in the heat of the moment. She’d never played it, Jinx had honestly completely forgotten that she had stolen it from Silco. Jinx didn’t even know why Silco had kept it, other than the faint memory of his hand brushing over it once, muttering something about it belonging to a time when “things were simpler.”

A time before her.

Before Zaun’s war.

Before it all fell apart.

Jinx’s chest tightened, and she swallowed hard. Silco. Vander. The men who had shaped her life, who had given her the world in their own flawed ways—gone .

Jinx swiftly slipped the disc back into the stack, randomly, unable to bear the weight of it. Not tonight. No, they were nothing more than painful memories, fading specters she couldn’t outrun no matter how far this strange new world took her. 

To shake off the rising emotions, she raised her voice loud enough to cut through the others’ conversation.

“Alright, losers.” Jinx drawled, masking her turmoil with her usual teasing tone. “Anyone wanna pick a song for Riot Blast?” 

That got their attention immediately.

“I do!” Sokka shouted, scrambling forward.

“Not fair! You picked the last one!” Katara protested, hot on his heels.

Sokka replied back. "It doesn't count! I didn't even pick anything! Jinx picked—" 

“Guys, let me! Let me!” Aang piped up, already crawling past the other two with a wide grin on his face.

The three of them jostled and shoved playfully, their laughter filling the air as Jinx snorted, shaking her head.

“Alright, alright, calm down,” She said, smirking. Her glowing pink eyes landed on Aang. “Kiddo, you’re up.”

“Ha! Yes!” Aang exclaimed triumphantly, pumping his fists in the air.

Sokka groaned in defeat, flopping back dramatically. “Why does he always get his way?”

Katara sighs, settling back with a resigned smile. “There’s always next time.”

Jinx spread out the discs on the saddle floor in front of Aang. “Pick one,” she said, leaning back and watching as Aang studied the collection with wide eyes, humming thoughtfully as his gaze moved from one disc to the next.

 “I, uh…can’t read these,” he admitted sheepishly, “What’s with the weird writing?”

“That’d be because it’s from Zaun, we don’t all write the same language, kiddo.” Jinx replied, rolling her tired eyes with a faint smirk on her lips. 

“Oh, right.” Aang murmured, scratching his head, for a minute of contemplation, he plucked a disc and handed it to her.

Instead of taking it, Jinx gestured toward Riot Blast. “You do it,” she said, reaching over to guide his hands. “Careful now. You don’t wanna break it.” 

Aang nodded, his tongue sticking out slightly, concentrating and being very careful under Jinx’s guidance through the process of inserting the disc into Riot Blast, her touch was surprisingly gentle.

And for a moment, Aang found himself marveling at the strange but brilliant invention as the disc slid into place.

Riot Blast whirred to life, its mechanical parts clicking softly as the disc began to spin. Static crackled for a moment before a slow, gentle melody emerged—a blend of acoustic guitar and the faint, wistful notes of a flute.

Aang’s ears perked up as he listened, expression softening. The music was unlike anything he’d heard before, it carried a sense of calm, yet there was a weight to it—a quiet sorrow woven into every note. 

“I had a dream,

Of the wide open prairie~

I had a dream,

Of pale morning sky~

I had a dream,

That we flew on golden wings,

And we were the same, just the same~

You and I~”

Aang’s brows furrowed as he listened intently.

The singer’s voice was deep and rough, yet warm. The lyrics spoke of freedom and kinship, painting images in his mind of vast, open skies and a bond unbroken.

It felt…familiar.

Aang’s expression shifted as the music filled the air, he sat back, his gaze distant as the lyrics washed over him as the others fell silent as the song played, their earlier bickering forgotten. 

“Follow your heart,

Little child of the west wind~

Follow the voice,

That’s calling you home~

Follow your dreams,

But always remember me~

I am your brother,

Yeah, under the sun~”

Aang closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him. The mention of a “child of the west wind” made him think of the Air Nomads—of his people. He imagined he was flying alongside Gyatso and the other monks, laughing and carefree. But the memory turned bittersweet, and his chest tightened. He opened his eyes, glancing toward Jinx.

Jinx was silent, her head bowed as she stared at the spinning disc. Her glowing eyes were dim, her usual sharpness dulled.

“Whenever you hear,

The wind in the canyon~

If ever you see,

The buffalo run~

Wherever you go,

I’ll be there beside you~

‘Cause you are my brother,

My brother under the sun~”

“We are like birds of a feather!~

We are two hearts joined together!~

We will be forever as one!~

My brother under the sun~”

When the song ended, the static of silence returned.

“That…” Aang began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “... that was beautiful .”

Katara nodded, eyes glistening. “It was."

“Yeah.” Sokka, normally brash and sarcastic, simply murmured,

Jinx didn’t respond, leaned back, letting the wind ruffle her blue hair as she stared at the darkening sky. Her expression was unreadable, but her silence spoke volumes as the song lingered in the air long after it ended, its echo carrying them forward as Appa flew through the night.

End of Chapter 4

Chapter Text

- TWO WEEKS LATER -

A soft hum of wind rushed past as Appa glided gracefully above the morning horizon, the golden light of dawn painting the skies in hues of orange and pink. Below, the world remained shrouded in a thin veil of mist, untouched by the sun’s warmth.

Wrapped snugly in her green Earth Kingdom cloak, Jinx lay curled near the back of the saddle, breathing steadily in her sleep. Her twin braids draped over her shoulder, and the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest signaled she was deep in her little nap after weeks of not being able to sleep lately. 

The peace, however, was doomed to be short-lived. From the front of the saddle, near Appa’s head, an argument was brewing between Sokka and Aang regarding Riot Blast that rested on the Young Avatar’s criss-crossed as the two boys glared at each other. 

"I'm just saying," Sokka huffed, holding up a disc like it was the most sacred artifact known to man. "If we're gonna put music in Riot Blast, it should be my choice. And I vote for something epic —something that makes you wanna charge into battle screaming."

Aang scoffed, dramatically rolling his grey eyes as he clutched a disc of his own. "Oh, please. We both know my music taste is better. We need something uplifting, something fun! If we're flying through the sky, shouldn't it feel like an adventure?"

Sokka gasped, clutching his chest like Aang had just deeply insulted his honor. "Fun? Adventure? Do you hear yourself? This is Riot Blast, Aang, not ‘Whimsical Airbending Tricks With Aang and Friends!’ We need something powerful that makes you feel alive!"

Aang snorted, his expression very unimpressed.  "Oh, I get it. You mean something loud and uninviting. Let me guess, your pick is just a bunch of angry drums and yelling?" 

Sokka jabbed a finger at him, eyes narrowed. "And yours is probably a twinkly flute and a guy singing about peace and harmony!"

Aang gasped in betrayal, narrowing his brows, jabbing a finger right back at Sokka. "First of all, flutes are amazing! Second of all, I was going to go with something with a beat—not that you'd appreciate actual musical taste."

Sokka huffed, crossing his arms, rolling his eyes. "Oh, so suddenly you're a music expert now?" 

"Uh, yeah?" Aang crossed his arms right back. "I grew up with the Air Nomads. We had amazing music."

Sokka, raising his hands. "My pick wins. End of story."

Aang narrowed his eyes. "Says who? "

"Says me. Because I—" Sokka suddenly lunged forward, snatching Riot Blast before Aang could react. 

"HEY!" Aang yelped, scrambling to grab it back. "That’s cheating!"

Sokka held the device over his head triumphantly. "Nope! This is called tactical genius." He shoved the disc into Riot Blast, grinning wildly. "And boom —victory is mine!" 

The device clicked into place, a loud, fast-paced rhythm blared to life, filling the air with an intense, war-ready beat.

“Fellow armsmen, I ask you! Will you follow me tonight to break their spine! And reclaim what once was mine!”

Aang groaned, flopping back against the saddle like his entire spirit had just been crushed. "Ugh. You are the worst. "

Sokka smirked, air-drumming along to the beat in smug satisfaction. "And yet, here we are. My music. My rules."

“Those cravens! Backstabbed me! Deceived me! Never shall I tolerate their crimes again! Now let the hunt begin! YEAH!

Behind them, Jinx stirred, a groggy mutter slipping past her lips. "Shut up, or I’m throwing both of you off."

Aang immediately pointed at Sokka. "See what you did?"

"Totally worth it," Sokka said, grinning as he bobbing his head to the heavy metal music. 

“Seven thousand Souls, scared and daunted, such a tale of woe,

Not too long ago, this village was a golden scene of hope~”

Jinx let out a low groan, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. Her muscles ached from another restless night, and her mind still felt weighed down by the constant night terrors that had haunted her dreams for the past days since they left Omashu— including this whole week in fact.  

“Bring down the dark regime!! 

I know how to unleash eternal power! Lead us to order! 

I am the lightbringer! (YEAH!)

At best, if she was lucky she’d managed two or three hours of broken sleep this time, but at this point Jinx was considered to just not bother trying to sleep anymore. All her dreams are horrible truths. 

Jinx shifted under the cloak, briefly eyeing the green Earth Kingdom pants. With a faint sigh, she extended a hand and focused, trying to replicate the thermal regulation technique Aang had taught her. For a moment, a small wave of warmth enveloped her fingertips, but it quickly dissipated, leaving her fingers as cold as before.

“Call down the reckoning!

To bring back hope and peace!

Restore our gloria! To live forever, YEAH!! ”

“Figures,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she brushed her blue bangs away from her face. The idea of reaching the North Pole with her current skills felt daunting. 

Katara had mentioned before how bitterly cold it would be up north, and Jinx doubted her cloak alone would be enough to keep her from freezing. The thought of the icy winds biting through her layers made her scowl.

“Fellow warriors, I ask you! Should my campaign come to an end?! There's way more to avenge! ”

“Good morning, Jinx,” Katara greeted warmly from where she sat nearby. Her voice was soft and kind, cutting through Jinx’s train of thought.

Jinx turned her tired gaze to Katara and offered a faint, half-hearted smile. “Morning,” she murmured, her voice hoarse from sleep—or the lack of it.

The boys immediately took notice. Aang turned around in his spot, his expression brightening as he chimed in, “Morning, Jinx!”

“Rise and shine Stormbringer!” Sokka called out with a grin, his tone teasing but friendly.

“Fifteen million souls, Living in this realm without much hope! Not too long ago, this kingdom was a golden State of hope, YEAH, AHH!”

Jinx waved lazily in response, her pink eyes flickering between the group with exhausted eyes. 

Aang’s smile faltered slightly as he caught sight of the dark circles under her eyes. His concern deepened, but he chose not to comment. He knew better than to push her, especially after the many if not all the difficult nights she’s had lately ever since they left Omashu. 

Katara began passing around breakfast from their supplies—a modest meal of fruits and leftover bread. Everyone gathered in the center of the saddle, Sokka lowered the Riot Blast’s volume as he seated in a loose circle as they shared the food. 

The morning air was crisp and cool, but the warmth of camaraderie filled the space as they ate. 

Sokka, as usual, provided most of the entertainment. 

Aang snickered, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold back laughter that even Jinx couldn’t help but smirk faintly, though she stayed quiet, content to listen to the others talk.

“Call down the reckoning!

To bring back hope and peace!

Restore our gloria! To live forever, yeah!!”

The group continued their banter, Aang stole a few glances at Jinx as she sat slightly apart from the circle, leaning back against the edge of the saddle with her cloak wrapped tightly around her. Though she chuckled at Sokka’s antics, there was a heaviness in her posture that Aang couldn’t ignore, and he made a mental note to check in with her later when they had a moment alone.

The sky above continued to brighten as the sun climbed higher, its rays casting a golden glow over the world. And despite the weariness Jinx felt, she found herself relaxing just a little in the presence of Team Avatar. 

“Bring down the dark regime! I know how to unleash eternal power! Lead us to order!

I am the Lightbringer!”

Their laughter, their easy camaraderie—again, every time, moments like this one was something she hadn’t realized she missed until now…it reminded her of old lighter memories of her childhood. For a brief moment, Jinx let herself simply exist in the moment, the warmth of the morning sun on her face and the sound of new companions filling the air.

As the group ate breakfast and exchanged banter, Aang suddenly straightened up, his expression bright with an announcement. “Hey, just so everyone knows,” he began, “We’ll need to stop for the night later. Appa needs his rest, so we’ll be camping again tonight!”

At the mention of his name, Appa let out a deep, rumbling groan, flapping his massive tail as if in agreement.

Katara nodded immediately, “That sounds like a good idea. We’ll need to stretch our legs, too.”

“Fine by me,” Sokka said through a mouthful of bread, “As long as we don’t end up in a swamp or something.”

Jinx simply nodded in acknowledgment—If they ended up near a town or village this time, she could slip away to scavenge for scraps or metal.

Maybe, if Jinx was really lucky, there’d be a blacksmith’s workshop. With the right materials, she could get a head start on rebuilding some of her gadgets— her own weapons, her tools, anything to give her back the sense of control Jinx desperately craved.

Jinx glanced at the others as they continued chatting, masking her thoughts behind a casual expression. No one needed to know what she had in mind. It wasn’t like they’d approve of, anyway. 

‘Well, maybe Sokka will .’ Jinx thought. However, with Aang’s wide-eyed optimism along with his pacifism and Katara’s steady morality wouldn’t exactly mesh with her approach to survival the longer Jinx pondered. 

Jinx adjusted her green cloak, tugging it tighter around her as she leaned back, allowing herself to sink into the familiar hum of Appa’s flight. She would wait and see where they landed tonight. If the opportunity presented itself, she would make her move. 

For now, she let the chatter of Team Avatar wash over her, pretending to be part of the moment while her mind quietly worked on her plan while she ate her breakfast. 

The group continued eating, the early morning air crisp as Appa soared through the sky. The gentle sway of his flight made breakfast feel even more comforting, the warmth of the sun keeping the lingering chill at bay.

Jinx and Aang were the first to finish, while Katara and Sokka were still chatting and finishing their portions, Aang turned to Jinx, his gray eyes bright with anticipation. “Hey, Jinx! Since we’re done eating, how about we get some Airbending training done?”

Jinx groaned softly—not out of annoyance, but more from exhaustion. She tilted her head back, pink eyes staring at the endless blue sky overhead as if hoping the universe would grant her a break. 

No such luck.

“You’re relentless, Baldy,” Jinx muttered, rubbing the back of her neck before forcing herself to stand as the cloak she wore billowed slightly as she adjusted it. “Fine, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“Great!” Aang beamed, jumping to his feet with way too much energy for someone who had also just eaten. His enthusiasm was almost infectious, and despite herself, Jinx felt the corner of her mouth twitch—just a little.

“Okay, Jinx!” Aang said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s try again, just like we practiced.”

Jinx raised a brow, arms crossing over her chest. Her mind flickered back to the not very pleasing description of the North Pole—the bone-chilling cold, the icy winds cutting through layers of clothing. And unfortunately for Jinx, her cloak and clothes aren't enough to keep her warm from said destination. 

Aang grinned. “Remember. It’s all about controlling the air around you. You don’t fight against the cold; you let the air move with your body, wrapping yourself in warmth.”

Jinx arched an eyebrow. “That still sounds like some spiritual mystic monk stuff.”

Aang laughed, plopping down cross-legged on the saddle. “I mean…kinda. But it works!” He closes his eyes, taking slow, deliberate breaths as posture relaxed, expression calm, as if he weren’t sitting on a sky bison thousands of feet in the air.

Jinx sighed, reluctantly sitting across from him. “Alright, let’s see if I don’t freeze my ass off by then.”

Aang smiled, taking it as a win. “Feel the air around you,” he instructed, his voice softer now. “Use your breathing to guide it. Imagine a warm layer of air wrapping around your body, keeping you comfortable no matter how cold it gets.”

Jinx sighs heavily, reluctantly fixing her posture, mirroring the Young avatar, closing her eyes, inhaling deeply. 

At first, all she felt was the usual bite of the morning air against her skin. She tried to picture the warmth Aang described, but it wasn’t natural for her. 

The cold was just there , pressing in, unmoving.

Aang must’ve sensed her struggle because his voice was patient, guiding. “You’re overthinking it again,” he said gently. “Remember— don’t force it. Just breathe.”

Jinx exhaled through her nose, trying again. She pulled the air around her, controlling her breaths, imagining the warmth. And for the briefest flicker of a second, something changed. A faint, almost unreal heat brushed against her skin, warming her fingertips—then it was gone.

Jinx’s eyes snapped open, irritation flashing across her face. “Ugh. This is way harder than it looks.”

Aang chuckled softly. “It’s okay. It took me a while to get it too.” 

Jinx deadpanned, tilting her head as the breeze brushed against her bangs, her pink eyes staring at Aang without blinking. “Say’s the Monk who mastered Airbending at the age of twelve. Sure .” 

Aang cracked an eye open, giving her an encouraging grin. “Try again. Focus on your breathing.”

Jinx clicked her tongue but closed her eyes again, and this time, she tried blocking everything else out—the gentle sway of Appa’s flight, the idle chatter of Katara and Sokka, the morning breeze curling through the air.

She inhaled.

The cold pressed against her skin.

She exhaled, slow and steady.

There.

 A flicker. A faint warmth unfurling beneath her palms, curling around her forearms, light but fleeting. 

Jinx’s eyes opened slightly, a small smirk forming. “I felt something.”

Aang grinned. “See? You’re getting it!”

Jinx scoffed but didn’t argue.

For the next twenty minutes, they kept at it, Aang guiding her, adjusting her breathing techniques, while Jinx pushed through the frustration. The warmth became more consistent, lingering just a second longer each time, even if it still flickered in and out.

She wasn’t anywhere close to mastering it—but for the first time, she felt it. And, begrudgingly, she admitted to herself… Maybe she didn’t hate training with Baldy as much as she let on.

As they wrapped up, Aang beamed at her, his optimism shining like the morning sun. “You’re doing great, Jinx. Just keep at it. You’ll have it down in no time.”

Jinx smirked faintly, brushing her blue bangs out of her face. “If you say so, Little Hero-Man. ” Her voice carried its usual sarcastic edge, but there was something else beneath it— something softer—a hint of gratitude she didn’t quite know how to express.

For a brief moment, Jinx felt like she could actually make progress as an airbender. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually.

With their training session complete, they scooted their way back with the rest of their peers, the gentle sway of Appa’s flight lulling the world into a peaceful rhythm. Jinx settled herself into the corner, pulling out her large, well-worn sketchbook from her green bag.

Flipping through its pages, her pink eyes scanned the faded blueprints of her past inventions—the careful, chaotic scrawls of a mind that never stopped moving. Flame Chompers, their jagged jaws drawn in sharp detail, each mechanism labeled with explosive precision. Meowzer & Whiskers, deceptively cute little smoke bombs, their fluffy exteriors hiding harmless surprises.

A small frown tugged at her lips as her fingers brushed lightly over her Flame Chomper sketches.

Jinx had nothing to work with. No materials. No tools. No scraps of metal to weld together into something that felt like hers. It wasn’t like her to go this long without tinkering, without creating. The absence of her weapons left her feeling restless, exposed.

Jinx sighed, closing the sketchbook for a moment, fingers drumming against the leather cover before flipping it open again—her pink eyes landing on the one design she always came back to.

Zap.

The familiar metal and curves of her beloved gun stared back at her, with the kind of care only something deeply personal could have. It wasn’t just a weapon. It was a part of her—one of the few things in her life she had built with her own hands here in this new world.

Zapper died along with Isha.

A bitter forced smirk tugged at her lips as she traced her fingers over Zap absently. At least she still had this.

“Zap’s getting lonely,” Jinx muttered to herself with a faint smirk, spinning the pistol in her other hand out of habit.

“Can’t just rely on her forever. She needs some friends.” Jinx glanced up at the others, who were still chatting idly as they finished breakfast. A spark of an idea lit up in her mind. She cleared her throat, catching their attention.

“So,” Jinx began, her tone casual but with an edge of determination, “If we’re camping later tonight so Appa can rest, it needs to be near a village or some town.”

Aang tilted his head. “Why?” 

The others echoed his question, turning to look at her. Jinx grinned, pulling her sketchbook open to a page and holding it up for them to see, “ Because I need scraps. Metal, wires, gears—whatever I can scavenge. I need to start building my gadgets again.”

Jinx flipped the sketchbook to the page showcasing Zap, her smile becoming more genuine. “My poor Zap’s been all alone, stuck in her own little ransom!” she said dramatically, twirling the pistol in her hand with a playful flourish. “Sure , she has Riot Blast for company, but Riot Blast doesn’t join in on the ‘Boom! Bam! Ka-bloo-ee!’ side of the party.”

Katara and Sokka exchanged worried glances.

Jinx waved a hand dismissively, her tone shifting to something softer; “Relax. I’m not planning on building anything dangerous… yet .”

She smirked faintly before flipping to another page in her skethbook. “I miss my gadgets. It feels weird not having them—it’s like I’m naked without them. If I can tinker a few things, it’ll give me a sense of normalcy again.”

Aang, still smiling from her earlier display, leaned in to look at her sketches. His gray eyes lit up when he recognized something familiar, but also different about the particular sketches, “Wait…are you going to make Meowzer and Whiskers again?”

Jinx glanced at him, her pink eyes narrowing slightly, though there was no real malice in her look; “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your bald little head.”

Aang’s grin widened, clearly pleased that she was taking his suggestion seriously.

“Meowzer? Whiskers?” Katara asked, scooting closer as Sokka joined her, curious despite himself.

“They’re smoke bombs,” Aang explained brightly, “They’re completely harmless! They’re just meant to distract an enemy with smoke and give us time to escape if things get bad.”

Jinx flipped the page to reveal the refined detailed sketches of Meowzer & Whiskers. The designs were deceptively innocent, resembling playful cats with wide, curious eyes and mischievous grins. Next to them was another sketch of her Flame Chompers— mechanical jaws with sharp teeth and angry expressions. 

The contrast between the two designs was striking. 

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “Those look way too cute to be useful.”

“Ugh, well duh! They’re not for fighting, Boomerang,” Jinx replied, rolling her pink eyes. “It's called a distraction . They’re for when you need to get out of a fight.”

Sokka rubbed his chin, his blue eyes scanning the rough blueprints in Jinx’s sketchbook with newfound interest—before his blue eyes caught on, picking up a spare opened sketchbook in front of Jinx, slowly flipping through its pages. 

“Okay, I’ll admit,” He said slowly, “That actually looks… useful. ”

Jinx arched a brow, smirking. “Oh? Is that an actual compliment, Mr. Boomerang?”

Sokka ignored her jab, pointing at one of the designs. “These traps— tripwires, snares, bombs, smoke bombs—this is the kind of stuff we could use against the Fire Nation. Not only brute force, but strategy.”

Jinx’s grin widened. “See? I knew you’d come around.”

Katara crossed her arms, glancing between them, her expression skeptical. “Sokka…you do realize you’re basically encouraging her, right?”

Sokka shrugged. “Look, if she’s gonna be building stuff anyway, why not use it to our advantage? We’re outnumbered, outarmed, and constantly running for our lives. Anything that gives us an edge is a win in my book.”

Aang nodded thoughtfully, though slowly, looking down at the blueprints on the sketchbook. “As long as it doesn’t hurt people…I think it could help, too.”

Sokka glanced over to Aang, he sighed, rolling his blue eyes, rubbing his temples. “Okay, but ground rules—we make stuff to protect us , not to start unnecessary fights. And no random explosions unless absolutely necessary. ”

Jinx rolled her pink eyes but held up a hand. “Scout’s honor.”

Sokka gave her a flat look. “You were never a scout.”

Jinx smirked. “Exactly.”

Katara let out a long breath, shaking her head. “I really don’t like this.”

Sokka placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Relax, Katara. We’ll keep an eye on her. Besides, if Jinx can whip up some defenses that help us instead of the Fire Nation constantly blowing fire in our faces, isn’t that worth a shot?”

Katara still didn’t look entirely convinced, but after a moment, she sighed, conceding, “I guess…as long as it doesn’t get out of control.”

Jinx, grinning. “Oh, no promises, Sweetness.” 

Yet, despite his grumbling, Sokka couldn’t shake the feeling that this —Jinx’s unpredictability, her knack for innovation—is exactly what they needed. The Fire Nation had an army, warships, and weapons of destruction, but now? They had their own wildcard.

And Sokka believes, just by looking through Jinx’s blueprints…that it might just be their biggest advantage yet.

Katara’s eyes flickered over the pages of Jinx’s sketches, her brow furrowing as she pointed to one particular design that looked eerily similar to MB. 

“What about that one? It looks… angry.” Her finger rested on a doodle—an unsettling little monkey with wide, unblinking eyes and cymbals clutched in its hands. 

The jagged lines of its grin made it look like it was laughing, or maybe baring its teeth. Jinx’s gaze followed, landing on the drawing, and for  a moment, she just stared at it, her expression unreadable, fingers tightening just slightly around the edge of the sketchbook.

Then, with a practiced indifference, she shrugged. “Just some old thoughts,” Jinx muttered, flipping the book shut with a flick of her wrist. “Not sure if I’ll ever bring that one back.” Her hand remained on the cover, fingers drumming lightly over the leather surface in an uneven rhythm. 

Something in the way she said it made Katara hesitate. It wasn’t just the words—it was the weight behind them, the way her pink eyes dimmed just a little, like she was looking at something far away.

Sokka, who had been half-distracted scanning over pages of blueprints, glanced up. His blue eyes flickered between them, catching the subtle shift in Jinx’s body language—the too-casual way she rested her hand over the closed book, the slight tension in her shoulders.

His gut twisted.

MB.

Sokka didn’t know everything about it. Not yet. But he had a sick feeling, he wasn’t stupid, and the fact that she had sketched it here, even absentmindedly? That meant something and he didn’t like it. 

“ …Yeah,” Sokka said, his tone light, too light. “Maybe let’s stick with the smoke bombs and tripwires, for now huh?”

Jinx’s lips twitched— not quite a smirk, not quite anything. “Relax, Boomerang Boy,” she murmured, leaning back and stretching her arms over her head. “I’m not in the mood for fireworks right now.”

Sokka didn’t miss the way Katara shot him a glance, one that silently asked, ‘ Should we push?’

But Sokka just gave a slight shake of his head, ‘ Not now .’

Jinx had closed the rest of her sketchbooks, that was her way of closing the conversation. And for now? They’d let her.

Jinx’s demeanor shifted, her usual lighthearted edge dimming as something more serious settled into her tone. “I’ve been thinking ever since Omashu.” She flipped one of the sketchbooks back open, her fingers tracing over the designs with a quiet sort of deliberation. “If we’re really going to help Aang stop this war, we need to be ready for anything . ”

Her pink eyes lifted, scanning each of them in turn—Aang, Katara, Sokka. There was no teasing, no smirk. Just a raw, unshakable determination burning behind them.

“I’ll build Meowzer and Whiskers for you guys.” Jinx tapped on the page, revealing two deceptively adorable cat-shaped smoke bombs, each one sketched with meticulous detail. “If things ever go south, they’ll blow enough smoke to cover you—buy you time to escape a fight.”

Jinx’s fingers tightened slightly around the book’s edge before she added, “And I’ll teach you how to use them.”

She wasn’t asking.

She was deciding.

And that alone spoke volumes.

Fixing her gaze on Sokka, Jinx's expression turned deadpan. “But don’t waste them on something stupid.”

Sokka gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal. “Why do you assume I’m the irresponsible one?”

With a sly smirk, Jinx shrugged, unbothered. “It’s just that you seem to make… questionable decisions sometimes.”

“Says the girl who got us all arrested!” Sokka shot back, his voice rising with exasperation. 

That was all it took for the two of them to launch into another back-and-forth, Jinx’s biting sarcasm clashing against Sokka’s indignant protests like flint and steel.

Katara sighed, shaking her head, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her amusement. Aang, meanwhile, chuckled softly, watching the spectacle unfold.

Jinx narrowed her eyes, her smirk widening with mischief. “Oh, please. Getting arrested was a group effort, Boomerang Boy. You were just lucky your face wasn’t plastered all over any wanted posters.”

Sokka jabbed a finger in her direction. “You’re the one who made those guards freak out in the first place! If it weren’t for you and your… weird… manic thing—”

Jinx gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like he had just delivered a fatal wound. “Oh no, Boomerang Boy doesn’t like my vibe! Whatever will I do?” She threw her head back in mock distress. “Maybe I’ll cry into my pile of explosives later.”

Aang stifled a laugh, but Katara wasn’t as subtle, snorting behind her hand.

“I mean it!” Sokka flailed his arms. “If you hadn’t started chaos with your Zap thingie, we could’ve just sneaked out of Omashu like normal people!”

Jinx tilted her head, feigning deep contemplation. “Hmm… yeah… and where would the fun be in that? Honestly, Sokka, I think the real issue here is that you’re just not bold enough to appreciate the art of causing a scene.”

“Causing a scene?” Sokka’s voice shot up an octave. “You nearly got us thrown in jail! You had us running from the authorities! You were shooting that thing everywhere!”

“Exactly!” Jinx clapped her hands as if he had just proven her point. “A perfect distraction. You’re welcome.”

Sokka groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “Unbelievable. You’re unbelievable.”

Katara, still laughing softly, decided to step in. “Sokka, you do realize she’s doing this just to get under your skin, right?”

“Thank you, Katara,” Jinx said sweetly, shooting the waterbender an exaggerated bow. “Finally, someone who gets me.”

Sokka dropped his hands and glared at her. “Oh, I get you, all right.”

“And yet,” Jinx drawled, leaning back on her hands, her grin devilish, “—you’re still here, soaking up my brilliance. Admit it, Boomerang Boy. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around to keep things interesting.”

“Miss you?” Sokka scoffed. “I’d probably finally get a full night’s sleep without worrying about you blowing something up with your Zap!”

“Pfft. As if.” Jinx waved him off. “You’d all be bored out of your minds without me.”

Aang, who had been quietly enjoying the exchange, finally spoke up, his voice light with humor. “I think you two actually balance each other out.”

Sokka whirled on him, looking betrayed. “Whose side are you on?”

“The side that’s not yelling,” Aang replied cheerfully.

Katara chuckled, while Jinx wagged a finger at Sokka, her grin turning wicked. “See? Even our Boy Savior knows I’m irreplaceable.”

“Don’t call him that,” Sokka muttered, crossing his arms.

“Why not? It’s a great nickname.” Jinx tapped her chin in mock consideration. “Maybe, better than Boomerang Boy—though, I gotta say, that one’s a classic.”

Sokka threw up his hands in exasperation. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! You’re impossible!”

“And you’re predictable,” Jinx shot back, flashing him a victorious smirk.

Katara reached over and patted her brother’s shoulder, still laughing softly. “Come on, Sokka.”

Sokka groaned again, muttering under his breath as Jinx leaned in closer to Sokka, just enough to whisper—yet loud enough for everyone to hear, of course. “Don’t worry, Boomerang Boy. I’ll make you some Smoke Bombs too. Just don’t waste them on something really dumb, like trying to impress the Kyoshi Warriors again.”

Sokka’s face turned an impressive shade of red. “That was different! ”

The group erupted into laughter at his reaction.

“Ohhh, so different, do tell~” Jinx drawled, resting her chin in her hand. 

Before Sokka could fire back, Aang stepped in, waving his hands, still grinning. “Okay, okay, let’s not bring the Kyoshi Warriors into this.”

Jinx chuckled, flipping her sketchbook shut as she leaned back. “Fine, I’ll be nice. For now.”

Sokka shot her one last glare before turning to Katara, exasperated. “Why does it feel like I’m the only one who takes this seriously?”

Katara smirked. “Because you are.”

Jinx laughed, her voice light and teasing, and for the first time that day, something in the air shifted—a weight lifted, if only for a moment.

As the laughter settled, Aang turned to Jinx with a kind smile. “I’m happy you’re willing to give your older inventions another chance. They’re really creative.”

Jinx held his gaze for a beat, her pink eyes tired but thoughtful. Then, a faint smile tugged at her lips. “I’m not bringing them back for me,” she murmured.

“They don’t have a purpose for me anymore. I got my own gadgets, my own smoke bombs—things that fit my style. But now…” Her gaze flickered to the others. “Now they have a reason to exist again. For you guys.”

Aang’s smile brightened at her words, while Katara and Sokka exchanged a surprised, yet pleased, glance. For a brief moment, the space between them felt a little less fractured—like something invisible had finally clicked into place.

Jinx leaned back against the side of the saddle, flipping her sketchbook open again. “So, yeah,” she added, her tone casual. “If we stop near a village, I’m scavenging. Deal with it.”

“Deal,” Aang said, grinning.

And just like that, the restlessness inside her quieted—just a little.

Appa landed gracefully in a small clearing within the forest, the lush green canopy providing a serene, secluded area. The gentle sound of a nearby river mingled with the rustling of leaves in the breeze. True to their earlier discussion, a village could be seen far in the distance.

“Perfect spot,” Aang declared with a grin as he hopped down from Appa’s saddle, staff in hand. He turned to the others. “Okay, let’s unload everything so Appa can rest properly.”

Sokka stretched with a loud groan as he slid down Appa’s side. “Finally. My legs are so cramped from sitting all day. Why is that saddle so hard?”

“Maybe because it’s not a luxury carriage?” Jinx quipped, hopping down effortlessly after him. She stretched her arms overhead, joints cracking audibly. “Not like you’d last five minutes walking, Boomerang Boy.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent walker,” Sokka huffed, puffing out his chest.

“Sure you are.” Jinx smirked, her pink eyes gleaming with mischief.

Katara slid down next, shaking her head. “Can you two focus for five minutes? We need to unload Appa.”

With that, the group got to work. Aang took the lead, climbing onto Appa’s back to unfasten the heavy straps while Sokka and Jinx steadied the bulky contraption from below.

“Easy, easy,” Aang called out as the saddle shifted.

Jinx barely seemed to strain as she gripped one side with ease. “You know, I’ve been wondering… how does he fly?”

“Because Appa’s amazing,” Aang answered matter-of-factly, flashing her a proud grin as he untied the last strap.

With one final heave, they eased the saddle off Appa’s back and set it down in the clearing. The bison let out a pleased groan, shaking his massive body, his thick fur fluffing up now that he was free of the weight.

Katara approached with an armful of ripe fruit. “Here you go, Appa. You earned this.” She placed the fruit in front of him, smiling as the bison eagerly began munching.

Aang joined her, adding another handful of fruit he had gathered earlier. “You deserve the best, buddy.” He patted Appa’s side affectionately, and the bison let out a deep, contented rumble, his large tail swishing behind him.

Leaning against the saddle, resting against the tree, Jinx watched the scene with a faint smile. “Gotta hand it to him—he’s a pretty impressive furball. Still don’t get how he can fly, though.”

“It’s all in airbending,” Aang explained, grinning. “Appa uses his tail to create lift, kind of like a fan.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow. “Right. Makes total sense. Flying bison. Sure.”

Sokka, wiping his brow after helping with the saddle, chimed in. “I stopped questioning Appa a long time ago. It’s just easier to roll with it.”

Katara laughed softly, brushing her hair from her face. “Now that Appa’s settled, we should figure out what we’re doing next. The village isn’t too far—we can check for supplies or anything useful.”

“Or scraps,” Jinx added, her pink eyes lighting up. “Don’t forget the scraps.”

Sokka rolled his blue eyes. “Yes, yes, your precious scraps. Stars forbid we forget those.”

Jinx shot him a smirk. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Aang clapped his hands together, still brimming with energy. “Okay! Sokka and I can check out the village, and Katara can stay here with Jinx to watch over Appa.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow. “Why do I have to stay?”

Sokka narrowed his eyes. “Because you’re probably going to wander off looking for trouble.”

Jinx grinned wickedly. “Who, me ? Never. ”

Katara stepped between them before another argument could start. “Let’s not do this again. We’ll all go to the village together tomorrow once Appa’s fully rested. It’s safer that way.”

Aang nodded. “Sounds good to me!”

Katara wiped her hands off on her skirt, scanning the clearing before shifting into her usual responsible tone voice—one Jinx had grown all too familiar with. “Alright, here’s the plan: While Aang and I set up the tent and sleeping bags, Sokka and Jinx can start gathering firewood so we can build a fire later.”

Jinx groaned. “Ugh. Chores.”

“Yes, chores, ” Katara said with a knowing smirk. “And if you don’t help, you don’t get to eat.” Her tone was light, teasing—more of a playful threat than a serious one.

Jinx sighed dramatically, throwing her head back with an exaggerated eye roll, arms crossing over her chest. “ Fine. But if Boomerang Boy slows me down, I will complain the whole time.” She slouched immediately after, her posture oozing reluctant resignation.

Sokka scoffed, crossing his arms. “As if I’m the slow one.” His expression daring Jinx to say otherwise.

Aang just laughed, already looking forward to whatever mischief was bound to unfold next.

“Wait, why do I have to go with her?” Sokka groaned, throwing a dramatic frown in Jinx’s direction and jabbing a finger at her like she was some unbearable punishment (not really). 

“Maybe she doesn’t trust you to find anything useful on your own,” Jinx shot back smoothly, teasing, pushing herself off the resting saddle and folding her arms with a smirk.

Sokka gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. “Excuse me? I was gathering firewood way before you ever showed up, thank you very much!”

“And yet,” Jinx mused, flicking a strand of blue hair from her face, “I bet you’d come back with a bunch of twigs and call it a day.”

Aang stifled a laugh as he unloaded a bundle of supplies. “Come on, you two. It’s just gathering firewood. How bad could it be?”

Katara stepped in before the bickering could spiral any further. “Both of you, that’s enough banter . Just work together and get it done, okay? It’s not that complicated.”

Jinx snapped a mock salute, “Fine by me, Katana.” She turned to Sokka, raising an eyebrow. “You coming, Boomerang Boy, or should I get started without you?”

Grumbling under his breath, Sokka grabbed his machete from his bag. “Let’s just get this over with.” As the two stalked off toward the tree line, still exchanging muttered jabs as they went.

Katara sighed, shaking her head before glancing at Aang, who stood beside her as she began unpacking. “Think they’ll actually come back with firewood, or will they be too busy tearing each other’s hair out to remember why they left?”

Aang grinned as he helped her spread out the tent supplies. “I think they’re secretly having fun.”

Katara snorted softly. “That’s a very generous interpretation.”

“Hey, you never know,” Aang replied cheerfully, a playful glint in his eyes. “At least it keeps things interesting.” He echoed Jinx’s words with a grin, amused by how much funny mischief she and Sokka managed to stir up.

Jinx and Sokka wandered deeper into the forest, the faint sounds of Appa’s grunts and the rustling leaves fading behind them. The air was cooler under the canopy, thick with the scent of damp earth and fresh greenery. Birds chirped overhead, their songs filling the silence between them.

Sokka had seen plenty of weird things in his life. People who could bend elements, flying bisons, Aang glowing, the crazy Earth King, and even that guy who literally passed out with foam coming out of his mouth just at the sight of Aang. Pretty weird. 

But Jinx? Jinx was still one of the strangest things he’d ever met. 

And not just because of her wild personality, or the fact that she’s an airbender who didn’t act like one, or even because of her glowing crystal she would mess around with that also happens to power her Zap. 

No. It was because of her hair. Because somehow, some way, it was naturally blue. And Sokka just couldn’t let that go, it had been bugging him for the past four weeks since she joined the team. And finally, after one too many staring sessions, sneaking side glances as they stroll together through the woods in complete silence with only the sound of mother nature in the background he just blurted it out. 

“So, how is your hair blue?” Sokka asked, breaking the silence. 

Jinx, without even looking, staring ahead, she just shrugged. “Dunno. It just is.”

Sokka narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘it just is’?”

Jinx huffed. “I mean I was born with it, dumbass. Same way you were born with that dumb little wolf tail on your head.”

Sokka scowled. “Hey! My hair is a cultural statement.”

Jinx grinned. “And mine is naturally awesome.”

Sokka groaned, rubbing his temples. “Okay, but like—your eyebrows aren’t blue.”

Jinx snorted. “Oh, so observant, Boomerang Boy. What’s next? Ya gonna point out that my teeth aren’t blue either?”

Sokka ignored her sarcasm. “I’m just saying, it doesn’t make sense.”

Jinx arched a brow. “Oh, yeah? And tell me, Mr. Science Guy, does bending make sense?”

Sokka opened his mouth—then promptly shut it. ‘… Damn. She got me there .’ 

Sokka adjusted the machete on his belt, sneaking another glance at Jinx. She seemed distracted, idly kicking at a stray rock along the path, her expression unreadable.

“You know,” Sokka began, breaking the quiet, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Jinx arched a skeptical eyebrow, casting him a sidelong glance. “Should I be worried about what’s coming next?”

“Relax,” Sokka scoffed, rolling his blue eyes. “I’m just curious.” He hesitated for a beat before continuing. “You’ve talked about how bad Zaun is—how the air was suffocating, how people were desperate, how everything was falling apart.” 

“But…it couldn’t have all been bad, right? There had to be something good down there. Something worth remembering.” Sokka’s voice carried a rare note of sincerity, cutting through the usual banter. He wasn’t just making conversation—he genuinely wanted to know.

Jinx blinked, caught off guard by the question as she slowed to a stop, leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed. “That’s…a weird thing to ask.” she said, her tone guarded.

Sokka shrugged. “I’m just saying, no place is all bad. Even in the middle of a war, when we were younger, we still had something good. Fishing with Dad, telling stories around the fire, pranking Gran-Gran…” He chuckled softly at the memory before glancing at her. “There’s always something. What about Zaun? ”

Jinx exhaled, her gaze dropping to the ground as she absently rolled a stick between her fingers. 

“Zaun’s…complicated,” she muttered. “Most of the time, it felt like the world was trying to crush you. Smog in your lungs, gangs waiting to jump you in the alleys, people who’d sell you out for a handful of coins.” She let out a short, humorless laugh. “It wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.”

Sokka bent down, picking up a decent-sized branch and tossing it into the bundle he’d started. “I get that,” he said, dusting off his hands. “But come on, there had to be something. A place you liked, a person who didn’t suck. Anything.”

Jinx hesitated, her fingers tightening around the stick. The easy answer was to deflect, to throw out some sarcastic remarks and move on. But something about the way Sokka asked— genuine , without any judgment—made her pause and softened her resolve as her thoughts wandered. 

She sighed. “Okay,” she admitted quietly. “…there were some good things.”

Sokka’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh? Like what?”

“There was this one spot,” Jinx began, her voice distant as she spoke.

Jinx stared off into the distance, her voice growing softer, more distant.  “A rooftop on the edge of the Undercity. It was high enough that you could almost escape the smog, and you could see the tops of the factories glowing in the dark.” 

She tilted her head slightly, as if picturing it. “If you squinted…it almost looked pretty .” 

A faint, wistful smile tugged at her lips. “I used to go up there with my…” She trailed off, her voice faltering for half a second before she recovered. “With someone I cared about.”

Sokka caught the slight shift in her tone but didn’t press her on it. He just nodded, keeping his voice casual. “Sounds like a nice spot.”

“Yeah.” Jinx’s fingers absentmindedly toyed with the stick, her voice barely above a whisper. “For a little while, it felt like there was hope. Like we could actually…be okay.”

They walked in silence for a moment, the weight of her words settling between them. Then, as if snapping herself out of it, Jinx gave a quick shake of her head, as though physically pushing the memories away.

“Anyway, that’s enough of that,” Jinx said, her usual sarcastic edge creeping back into her voice, “What about you, Boomerang Boy? What’s your happy place?” As she threw another good decent size branch onto her own pile. 

Sokka smirked, grateful for the chance to lighten the mood as he worked. “Oh, that’s easy. The Southern Water Tribe. Sitting by the ocean, spear in hand, waiting for the fish to bite. Simple, peaceful, and best of all? No Chaos.”

Jinx snorted, “Sounds boring.”

“Hey, boring can be nice!” Sokka shot back, feigning offense, “Not everything has to involve chaos and explosions, you know.”

Jinx grinned. “Explosions make everything better.”

“Not when you’re the one getting exploded.” Sokka countered.

“Then don’t stand too close.” She teased, flashing him a smug look.

Their banter continued as they moved through the forest, chopping, breaking, and then tossing branches into their growing pile of firewood. The weight of the earlier conversation gradually faded, replaced by the easy rhythm of their back-and-forth, but as they started making their way back toward camp, Sokka stole a glance at Jinx.

For all her sharp wit and reckless bravado, there was always something else beneath the surface—something she was careful to keep hidden. A flicker of vulnerability, buried deep under layers of sarcasm and grins.

Sokka decided not to push her any further for now, not yet. Instead, he just grinned and said, “You know, for someone who claims to be all doom and gloom, you’re not half bad company.”

Jinx rolled her pink eyes but couldn’t quite hide the faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Don’t get used to it, Boomerang Boy.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the forest humming with life around them. The distant rush of the river wove through the trees, mingling with the cheerful chatter of birds overhead. Jinx’s pace slowed slightly, her gaze distant, her pink eyes flickering with a mix of emotions as her fingers idly tapped against one of the sticks she carried.

Sokka glanced over at her, noticing the change in her demeanor, “You okay there?”

Jinx hesitated, her lips pressing together for a moment before she spoke. “About what you asked earlier,” Her voice was quieter than usual. “About if there was anything good in Zaun.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, sensing she wasn’t done yet as he had a feeling this was something Jinx needed to say in her own time. 

Jinx inhaled slowly before continuing, her voice soft. “There was,” A pause. “My best friend, Ekko…called him ‘Little Man.’” Her pink eyes flickered with something unreadable— nostalgia, maybe, or something heavier.

A faint, bittersweet smile crossed her face, “We were inseparable.” Her voice took on a nostalgic lilt. “Like, if you saw one of us, you’d always find the other nearby. We caused our own kind of chaos, running around the Undercity, playing games, pulling pranks, sneaking into places we definitely shouldn’t have been. You know, kid stuff.”

Sokka smiled at the image she painted. “Sounds like you two were a real handful.”

“Oh, we were ,” Jinx said, a quiet laugh escaping her. “We’d race through the streets, climb rooftops, hide in the factories…one time, we even snuck into—” She hesitated briefly before waving it off. “A place we really had no business being in. But we didn’t care. We had each other, and that made everything bearable.”

The laughter faded from her voice, and Sokka caught the way her pink eyes dimmed, the light in them flickering out like a candle in the wind. 

His own tone softened. “What happened?” Sokka treaded carefully. “You said you two used to be inseparable.”

Jinx’s steps faltered. Her gaze dropped to the forest floor, her fingers tightening around the firewood in her arms as the silence stretched on between them, the birdsong above growing louder in its absence.

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Something… awful happened. When I was around Aang’s age.” She swallowed hard, gripping the sticks so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Something really bad that I couldn’t take back, I-I screwed up. Badly.”

Sokka glanced at her, his usual easygoing demeanor giving way to quiet concern. “Jinx…”

“In that moment, when everything fell apart,” She continued, her voice brittle, cracking under the weight of the memory of that horrible night. 

“I clung to…to this man. Silco. He-” Her breath hitched, voice caught for a moment. “He took me in…he…he… well, he wasn’t exactly a good person. Neither were the people around him. But I didn’t know what else to do. He became my family when I lost everything.”

Sokka stayed silent, letting her continue at her own pace.

“Ekko…” Jinx’s voice wavered at the mention of his name escaping through her lips. “He didn’t give up on me. He looked for me, chased after me, when I don’t deserve it. He wanted to save me.”

Her steps slowed until she finally stopped, staring blankly ahead. “And I hurt him.”

Sokka froze. His blue eyes widening. “You… what? ”

Jinx swallowed, her shoulders curling inward. “I hurt him,” she repeated, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to. Not really. I was protecting him. I thought if I pushed him away hard enough, he’d stop chasing me. That he’d be b-better off without me in his life.”

Jinx let out a shaky breath, her eyes glistening with unspoken pain, “I was doing the right thing.”

‘But—I kept hurting him after that…he kept coming back, but not to save me. No, he came back to stop me .’ Jinx thought, feeling the stone in her chest weigh heavy in her chest. 

Sokka shifted awkwardly, not quite sure how to respond. He wasn’t exactly the best at handling heavy conversations, but he also knew he couldn’t just brush this off.

“Jinx…” He hesitated, then pressed on. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but it sounds like you cared about him. A lot.”

“I did,” she murmured, “I still do. But it doesn’t change what happened. What I did. Ekko deserved better.” 

They stood there for a moment as the weight of her confession settled between them, thick and heavy like the smog she had described in Zaun. For a moment, neither of them spoke. 

Then, after a beat, Sokka stepped forward and gave her a gentle nudge on the shoulder against his own, his usual teasing replaced by something quieter, more genuine as his blue eyes met Jinx’s pink ones, steady and unwavering. 

“You made mistakes. Big ones, sure. But you’re here now, Jinx. That’s what matters.” There was no judgment in his voice, no empty platitudes—just an honest, simple truth.

Jinx blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. She glanced away, her expression guarded—but there was something else there, something that looked an awful lot like gratitude. “You’re surprisingly not terrible at this whole ‘comforting’ thing, Boomerang Boy.”

Sokka smirked, giving her shoulder a light, playful shove with his own. “Don’t get used to it.” He echoed back, his tone was teasing, but there was an underlying warmth to it—an unspoken acknowledgment that, despite everything, she wasn’t as alone as she thought.

Jinx chuckled softly, her usual smirk returning, though the pain in her pink eyes still lingered, “Let’s get this firewood back before Katana sends a search party after us.”

“Good idea,” Sokka agreed, falling into step beside her as they continued back toward the camp. The heaviness of the conversation still lingered between them, but so did something else…a faint, unspoken understanding.

Sokka walked in step with Jinx, her earlier words still heavy in his mind. He stole a glance at her, watching as she masked her emotions with a smirk and her usual sarcastic quips. But her eyes—her eyes told a different story. 

Beneath the bravado, beneath the sharp-edged humor, there was a storm brewing—guilt, regret, something raw and aching just always beneath the surface.

Sokka had never met anyone quite like her. Then again, he’d never left home to meet anyone outside his own tribe—at least, not anyone his age. So, in a way, Jinx was the first. Jinx was chaotic, unpredictable, and far too comfortable talking about things like explosions and destruction. 

At first, he had written her off as reckless, someone who thrived on mayhem for the sake of it. But the more time he spent around her, the more he slowly quickly realized that wasn’t the whole truth. Beneath all that wild energy was also someone haunted—someone who had lived through things she could barely talk about. Someone who carried the weight of her past like it was shackled to her. 

Her story about Ekko lingered in his thoughts, sticking with him in a way he hadn’t expected. It reminded him of himself—of how fiercely he protected Katara after their mother died. Always by Katara’s side. How he’d do anything to keep his sister safe. But the thought of hurting her? Of pushing her away in the name of protection? He couldn’t even imagine it.

And yet, Jinx had.

Sokka frowned, his grip tightening on the bundle of firewood in his arms. ‘What kind of situation makes you think that hurting someone you love is the only way to keep them safe? ’ Sokka felt a pang of sympathy for Ekko—this “Little Man ” who had clearly loved and believed in Jinx enough to chase after her, even when she didn’t want him to. 

Sokka would’ve done the same for Katara—no doubt about it. 

‘ Did he still think about her? ” Sokka wondered. “ Did he still hope she’d find her way back to him? ’ 

Sokka couldn’t decide if Ekko was a fool or the bravest person alive. Maybe both. But what unsettled him the most was the way Jinx saw herself . The way she spoke about her mistakes made it painfully clear—she didn’t think she deserved forgiveness. 

That kind of self-loathing was unfamiliar to Sokka. Sure, he had regrets, moments where he had screwed up, made a complete fool of himself but he always found a way to bounce back eventually. He could laugh it off, or try to make light of his failures, and move forward.

Jinx, though…she didn’t seem to have that luxury.

And then there was Silco.

Sokka didn’t know much about the guy, but the way Jinx talked about him sent a chill up his spine. Whoever he was, he had changed her—gotten into her head, shaped her into someone she didn’t want to be. 

And the worst part? She had clung to him when she had no one else.

Sokka hated that.

It reminded him too much of Aang, when they witnessed his emotional breakdown after seeing the truth with his own eyes, that everyone and everything he had ever loved was burned to ash. But at least Aang was found and embraced by them —that even if everything is gone, Katara and himself are here as his new family. 

Sokka really hated the idea of someone finding Jinx when she was lost and using that to twist her into something else. He hated that she had been so alone she thought she had no choice. Jinx pushed away Ekko of all people, her own best friend, the person she grew up with that tried to bring her back—only to hurt him enough to get him to stop chasing her. Jinx didn’t believe she deserved to be saved, she believed that Ekko was better off living his life without her in it, and she succeeded.

As they walked, the unfamiliar mix of emotions churned in Sokka’s chest— pity, frustration, anger. And something else, something that made him want to say something. He wanted to tell her she wasn’t as broken as she thought she was. That she still had a chance, that it wasn’t too late, that maybe—just maybe —Ekko wasn’t the only person who thought she was worth helping.

Aang . Katara . Sokka himself too. But the words felt too big in his mouth, too weighty to just throw out in the open, and Sokka wasn’t exactly great at this kind of thing. 

Still…he figured he’d try.

“You know,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence, “You’re not the only one who’s made mistakes. Big ones.”

Jinx shot him a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? What kind of ‘big mistakes’ are we talking about? Like, burning dinner big, or accidentally-blowing-up-your-best-friend’s-life big?”

Sokka chuckled, though there was an edge of nervousness to it. “Okay, maybe not that big, but you know, I’ve done my fair share of dumb things things I regret.”

Jinx didn’t say anything, but the way she looked at him—curious, but skeptical—made him keep talking.

“The thing is,” he continued, “—you can’t change what happened. But you can decide what happens next. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself for the rest of your life.”

Jinx snorted, but it lacked her usual sharpness. “Easy for you to say, Boomerang Boy. You haven’t burned all your bridges.”

Sokka frowned, wanting to say something— anything —to get through to her. But before he could find the right words, the treeline broke, and the camp came into view.

Katara and Aang were busy setting up the tent, their easy conversation filling the space with a familiar warmth of their group dynamic settled over him like a blanket as the sight was familiar and grounding. But Sokka’s thoughts lingered on Jinx, even as he moved to dump his bundle of firewood.

He stole another glance at her. She was tougher than she gave herself credit for—he could see that, he knew, but Jinx was also carrying a weight no one should have to bear alone.

Sokka resolved, right then and there, to keep an eye on her.

Jinx might not believe she deserved a second chance, but Sokka had a feeling that, with time, she might just find one.

Katara looked up from where she was organizing supplies near the firepit. raising an eyebrow as a playful smile tugged at her lips. “You’re both back in one piece? Shocking . I was sure one of you would’ve ‘accidently’ tripped over a branch or fallen into the river by now.”

Sokka rolled his blue eyes, smirking despite himself, “Very funny, Katara. Not all of us are as graceful as you while dodging tree roots.”

“Or water,” Jinx added with a sly grin.

Katara chuckled, clearly enjoying herself, as Sokka muttered something about how no one appreciated his hard work. 

Jinx, mirroring his exasperation, gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. For a fleeting moment, they shared something rare—a genuine smile, unburdened by sarcasm or tension.

As they set down the firewood in a neat pile, Jinx dusted off her hands and straightened up. “I’m gonna take a walk,” she said, her deliberately casual. She gestured toward the river they had passed on their way back. “Follow the water for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

Katara nodded, watching her with mild curiosity. “Alright, but don’t wander too far. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Relax, Mom.” Jinx quipped, smirking as Katara shot her a half-hearted glare. With that, she turned and disappeared down the path, her figure soon blending into the golden hues of the evening light filtering through the trees.

Sokka watched her go, his expression unreadable. Then, after a moment, he exhaled through his nose and turned back to the firewood. “Guess I’ll get started on this.” 

Sokka busied himself gathering scattered dead-fallen-tree logs, dragging each one closer to the soon-to-be firepit. He carefully stacked the firewood, arranging it with practiced efficiency. But something was off—his usual chatter, the endless quips and grumbles, were absent. 

Instead, he worked in silence, his brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.

Katara noticed immediately. The teasing air around her faded as her gaze softened with concern as she stole a glance at her brother, watching as he stared into the faint crackling fire, the flames flickering in his blue eyes.

“…Sokka?” she asked gently.

But he didn’t answer right away. Because, for once, Sokka wasn’t thinking about the fire in front of him, he was thinking about the weight Jinx had been carrying for far too long.

Katara glanced at him, frowning slightly. “You’re awfully quiet, Sokka. That’s never a good sign,” she said lightly, hoping to draw him out, yet Sokka didn’t immediately respond, which only made Katara’s concern deepen. 

“Sokka?” she tried again, walking over to where he sat. She knelt beside him, studying his face. “What’s going on? You’re acting…different.”

Aang, perched on a nearby log, noticed too. He leaned forward, his expression mirroring Katara’s concern. “What’s wrong? It couldn’t have been that bad gathering firewood with Jinx, right?”

Sokka shook his head and let out a small sigh. “It wasn’t that,” he muttered. “It’s…something else.”

The fire crackled, its glow casting flickering shadows on Sokka’s face, sitting on a spare dead log, elbows resting on his knees as his blue eyes stayed fixed on the flames, but his thoughts were miles away.

Katara exchanged a quick  look with Aang before turning back to him. “What is it, Sokka?” she asked, her voice soft but serious.

Aang tilted his head. “Did something happen with Jinx?”

Sokka ran a hand through his wolf tail, tugging it gently, trying to organize his thoughts, “When we were out there,” Sokka exhaled through his nose, trying to gather his thoughts. 

“When we were out there,” He restarted, “...we got to talking. I asked her if there was anything good about Zaun, aside from all the bad stuff. She mentioned a friend of hers. Ekko .”

“But then…” Sokka’s voice trailed off, his brows knitting together as he stared into the fire.

That was enough to make both Katara and Aang sit up straighter, they knew how cagey Jinx could be about her past—when she did share, which was really rare, and it was usually buried under layers of sarcasm or deflection.

“But then what?” Katara prompted gently, taking a seat beside her brother. Aang followed, settling onto a log across from them, his grey eyes full of quiet concern.

Sokka hesitated before continuing. “Jinx said something bad happened. Something she couldn’t take back. And because of that…she pushed him away. Hurt him. She said it was to protect him.” He ran a hand through the shaved areas of his head to his hair again, his frustration evident.

Aang frowned. “That doesn’t sound like the whole story.”

Sokka sighed, his voice quieter now. “Ekko and Jinx…they were close, really close, but something happened. Something bad . She didn’t go into details, but…” He frowned deeper, staring at his hands as if trying to make sense of everything. 

There was a long pause before he spoke again, and when he did, his voice carried a weight that hadn’t been there before. “And that’s not even the part that worries me.”

Aang’s expression darkened, his grey eyes full of worry as he leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

Sokka’s jaw tightened. “She said she ended up with someone named Silco. ”

The moment the name left his lips, Aang’s eyes widened. He sat up straighter, recognition flashing across his face. “Silco,” He murmured.

Sokka’s tone turned bitter. “She ended up with him. And a bunch of other people she knew were bad, but she still called him her family.”

Katara’s frown deepened, worry etched across her features. “Family?”

Sokka nodded grimly. “ Yeah . She said she didn’t have anyone else, so she clung to him. But from the way she talked about it…” He shook his head. “It sounded like they weren’t good for her. Especially Silco.”

Aang’s expression darkened further. “I’ve heard her say his name before.” He said softly, staring into the fire, the flickering light reflecting in his stormy grey eyes. 

Katara turned to Aang, her frown deepening. “When?”

Aang hesitated before answering, his voice quieter now. “Back in Omashu. In the dojo. I…I didn’t tell you guys before because I didn’t know how to bring it up.” His hands clenched against his knees. “I walked in on her. She was punching the bag, but she was crying. Like, really crying.”

Katara and Sokka exchanged a look, their concern deepening.

Aang swallowed, shifting uncomfortably as he glanced between them. “Jinx was…she wasn’t just angry. She was breaking down. Every punch, every hit, it was like she was trying to fight whatever was inside her. And then she kept saying she didn’t mean to hurt Silco. That she didn’t—”

Katara’s face softened with worry. “What did she say?”

Aang swallowed hard, pulling his knees close to his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees, pulling them closer. “She said he should’ve killed her instead of taking her in.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Katara’s blue eyes widen, frowning.

A heavy silence fell over the group, the only sound between them the quiet crackling of the fire, even the warmth of the flames felt distant now.

Aang hesitated again, but the weight in his chest pushed him to keep going. “She said she didn’t know what to do. That if he was still here, she needed him to tell her what to do.”

The words hung between them, suffocating in their weight.

Sokka’s jaw tightened, his gaze locked on the firelight flickering across his face, his expression grim. Before shaking his head, shutting his eyes for a brief moment, feeling the heat of the fire against his face before reopening them, darker than before.

“…Silco must’ve been important to her,” He said at last. “It’s just…I can’t shake the feeling that whatever Silco did, or didn’t do he wasn’t family.”

Sokka’s tone was sharp. “Jinx was a kid. He should’ve protected her. Kept her safe —not—not whatever he did.” His jaw tightened again as his earlier conversation with Jinx replaying in his mind, mixing with Aang’s words, breaking it all down in his head as the cogs and gears turned endlessly. 

Then Sokka spoke bluntly. “And I can only imagine the awful things that he and his followers could’ve been for a kid with no one else to turn to.” His voice was edged with frustration, not just at Silco, but at the world for allowing things like this to happen.

“And you know what gets me?” Sokka exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Jinx still called him her family. She was Aang’s age when all this happened. She lost everything . She had no one. And she ended up in the hands of someone like Silco. ”

“It’s no wonder when we found her she’s so…” He trailed off, struggling to find the right word, but Sokka couldn’t finish the sentence because whatever word he picked—damaged, broken, lost—it didn’t feel right. 

Because despite everything, Jinx was still here, and that matters more. 

“Lost.” Aang finished quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sokka’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “I don’t care how much Jinx thought she needed him—if Silco was part of the reason she ended up like this when we found her, then he isn’t family. He wasn’t someone who cared about her. He was just a person who used her.”

Katara looked at her brother, startled by the sharpness in his tone. “Sokka, you don’t know that—”

“No, Katara.” Sokka cut in, his voice firm, unwavering. “You didn’t hear the way she talked about Ekko. How she’s still holding onto this—this guilt, like it’s all her fault. Whatever Silco did to her, whatever he convinced her of, or whatever bad thing that happened back then, it wasn’t all her fault. She couldn’t have been. She was just a kid . And that man should’ve protected her.”

Aang lowered his head, his expression troubled. 

Silence

Katara exhaled, her voice gentle but firm. “We can’t change whatever happened to her. All we can do is be there for her now.” She met both of their eyes, determination shining through. “We can show her that she doesn’t have to carry all of that alone…not anymore.”

Sokka nodded slowly, his expression softening just a little. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Aang’s gaze drifted toward the path Jinx had taken, his grey eyes full of quiet resolve. “She’s a part of our family now. Whether she believes it or not, we’re going to help her. No matter what.”

The three of them sat together in quiet agreement, the fire between them burning steadily—a silent promise to the broken girl who had somehow become part of their world. Whatever darkness Jinx was carrying, they were determined to be her light.

As the conversation settled into silence, Aang found his gaze lingering on the flames. They flickered and danced, their warm glow casting shifting shadows across his face. His wide, thoughtful grey eyes reflected the fire’s restless energy, but his mind was elsewhere—trapped in the weight of Sokka’s words, in the echoes of Jinx’s voice.

He could almost hear her in his mind. He could imagine it. The way her voice may have cracked when she spoke of Ekko , the way she may have hesitated when she mentioned Silco , the complicated tangle of grief and guilt wrapped around his name, and the way she talked about family —like it was something jagged, something that cut her deeper the more she held onto it.

‘Family.’ The word felt heavy in his mind, complicated in a way Aang wasn’t used to. It used to be so simple—something tied to warmth and laughter, to the monks, to Gyatso, to the airbenders who had surrounded him with love and wisdom. That was family. That was what it was supposed to mean.

But for Jinx, it was different.

For Jinx, family wasn’t safety. It wasn’t comfort. It was loss . Pain. A constant ache, a battle between love and regret, between longing and shame.

It wasn’t fair.

She had been his age— just a kid . And like him, she had lost everything . But while Aang had been frozen in time, spared from a century of suffering, Jinx had lived through every agonizing second of her pain, and somehow, she had survived.

His fingers curled into fists in his lap.

And then there was Silco .

Aang didn’t know much about him, but from what Sokka had said, it was clear that he had been a defining force in Jinx’s life. Maybe Katara was right, that they didn’t have the full picture. Maybe Silco wasn’t as monstrous as Sokka believed. 

Jinx missed him— loved him, even. She had called him her family. 

Aang wants to believe that meant something good. ‘Maybe there’s more we don’t know. Maybe Silco wasn’t all bad…afterall, Jinx misses him so much.’ 

At least, Aang hoped that was the case. Because the alternative? The thought of someone taking advantage of Jinx’s pain—of shaping her into something she didn’t want to be, of making her depend on Silco to the point where she felt like she owed him her life—made Aang feel sick .

He couldn’t imagine Gyatso—couldn’t imagine anyone he called family— doing something like that.

‘Family is supposed to protect you. To guide you. Not hurt you. Not make you feel like you were better off dead.’ Aang frowned, guilt creeping into his chest like a slow-moving shadow.

When he had first met Jinx, he hadn’t fully understood her. He’d seen her anger , her sharp edges, her chaotic energy. She wasn’t like the airbenders he had known, wasn’t like the people who had raised him, but every now and then, even now, he saw the painful cracks in her armor. He saw how much she was hurting , how much she was carrying . And even then, he wasn’t sure he had actually fully grasped how deep that pain ran.

And, again, it reminded him of himself— because deep down, Aang understood what it was like to feel lost, feeling like he didn’t belong in the world he had woken up to.

Aang had felt it when he had first learned the truth—one hundred years had passed—the soul-crushing reality that the airbenders were gone. 

That Gyatso is gone. Everything and everyone he had ever known had been wiped from existence. Everything changed . And it really hurt .

And worse, that it was all his fault.

Aang had run. He had left them behind when they needed him, and he had abandoned his entire Nation to their deaths while dragging everyone else into a century of suffering.

And even though he had Katara and Sokka—his first glimpse of family in this new world—there were moments even before arriving at the Southern Air Temple, where the weight of being the last Airbender threatened to crush him. Moments where even their presence just wasn’t enough to fill the growing gaping hole in his heart.

Nothing will ever be the same.

It never could be.

But then, there was Jinx. The moment Aang found out that Jinx was an Airbender, the huge wave of relief, and hope washed over him, and ever since then she has been with them…something in him had started to shift.

The gaping hole hadn’t fully disappeared—but it wasn’t as suffocating as before because Jinx wasn’t just another traveler tagging along.

Jinx was his last surviving sister of his kind. An Airbender. The first person in this new world who can understand. The only other person that was like him. An Airbender. It helped him feel less alone in world he doesn't recognize, a world that feels so overwhelming that Aang is just scrambling, latching onto anything that was familiar.

And Jinx wasn’t only just another last-of-their-kind.

Zaun.

She was also the last of her own people of the Undercity, too. Suffered a great loss. Lost family and friends too, had lost everything, had suffered through it.

Aang couldn’t ignore that—He didn’t know everything about her past. He didn’t know how to fix the wounds she carried because he didn’t know how to fix himself either, but he knew one thing: She didn’t deserve to feel like she was on her own. Not anymore. No one deserved to feel this way.

Especially alone .

Aang squeezed his gray eyes shut, willing for the ache in his chest to disappear. He wanted this weight to go away. He wanted to stop hurting, to stop aching, to stop missing what once was, to stop being haunted by what could’ve been,but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t.

Aang would always miss them, and he would always know that none of this had to happen.

If only he hadn’t run.

If only he hadn’t been so stupid. 

So selfish.

So cowardly. 

If only he had stayed .

His people would still be alive.

Gyatso wouldn’t have been killed by the Fire Nation.

And the world wouldn’t have suffered a hundred years of war.

What Aang wanted more than anything—for both of them, for Jinx and for himself —was to believe that they didn’t have to carry this horrible feeling alone forever.

That maybe, one day, this ache, this unbearable weight, would fade. That maybe, one day, they wouldn’t have to keep looking over their shoulders for the ghosts of the past.

That they could heal this.

That they could make things right again.

That they could live —not just survive, not just exist under the crushing weight of what was lost—but truly live, in a world where peace wasn’t just a distant, unattainable dream.

Aang swallowed hard, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar, something fierce and unshakable.

“She’s one of us now,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. But the moment the words left his lips, they solidified into something real , something true . 

The determination in his voice even surprised him. “She might not believe it yet, but we’re her family. And we’re going to show her that.”

Katara and Sokka turned to him, their expressions softening.

Aang didn’t meet their eyes. Instead, his gaze was locked on the path Jinx had taken, as if he could still see the ghost of her figure disappearing into the trees. He thought about how hard it must have been for Jinx to tell Sokka even a fraction of her story. 

Jinx, who wore her chaos like armor. Jinx, who never let her guard down—not fully—For her to share even a little meant something.

It meant she trusted them, or at the very least, she wanted to, and Aang isn’t going to let her down.

He couldn’t .

“Jinx is strong,” he said softly, almost to himself. His fingers curled slightly, tightening against his knees. “But she doesn’t have to be strong alone.”

The fire crackled and popped, filling the quiet that followed as Aang’s gaze remained fixed on the flames, but his thoughts were elsewhere—drifting along the river, searching for her.

‘I hope you know you’re not alone, Jinx.’ He thought, his heart heavy yet full of something new. ‘I hope you can feel it, even just a little. ’

Katara stirred the soup absentmindedly, her thoughts tangled in the conversation she’d had with Sokka and Aang. Jinx carried a heavy burden—one she hadn’t fully shared, but one that clung to her like a shadow, inescapable and suffocating and one that Katara couldn’t fully understand but couldn’t ignore, either. 

Katara’s brow furrowed in quiet thought. The weight of Jinx’s story—the fractured pieces she had let slip—lingered like a storm cloud, heavy and unshakable. 

From the moment they’d met, Katara had known Jinx was troubled, very hurt, very lost but she hadn’t fully realized just how deep her pain ran.

For Katara, family had always been an anchor. A source of strength. Losing her mother had left a scar that would never fully heal, but she still had Sokka. She still had Gran-Gran. And now, she had Aang and even Jinx. They were home . They were the reason she still believed in hope.

But Jinx? Jinx had nothing . Her kind, her people of Zaun, her home, and her family— all of it torn from her. 

And Katara couldn’t even begin to comprehend how much more Jinx had lost that had completely shattered any semblance of hope she had left for anything.

What stood out most, to Katara, based on what her brother had told her, was the way Jinx spoke to Sokka about Ekko. The sorrow, the guilt— the self-loathing woven into every word.

Katara understood loss too well, understanding the ache of missing someone who could never come back, but the way Jinx avoided the specifics made Katara wonder just how deep that wound ran.

How much had Jinx truly lost?

And then there was Silco. Jinx had called him family, but the way she spoke of him through Sokka— hesitant, bitter, sad, longing —made it clear that whatever they’d been to each other, it was complicated .

‘A father figure? A captor? Both? Whatever the truth is…'  Katara’s thought trails off, she could tell that Jinx’s past was full of wounds, most of which hadn’t yet found healing. 

And then there was the way Jinx spoke about herself. The bitterness. Again, with self-loathing. Katara couldn’t ignore the quiet, almost offhand remarks Jinx made—little jabs at herself that revealed how little she thought she deserved. 

Yet, Jinx loved Silco enough to call him her family.

‘I don’t know everything she’s been through. We don’t have the full picture. But whatever happened to her…it made Jinx believe she was beyond saving. That it’s too late to fix anything. That nothing matters anymore. ’ 

That thought made Katara’s heart ache. She stole a glance at Sokka, who sat across the fire, poking absently at the flames. He’d handled the conversation with Jinx better than she expected. Normally, he’d make some sarcastic remarks and try to lighten the mood with a joke. But tonight, he had listened. 

That meant something. Jinx had gotten through to him, even if she didn’t realize it. And Katara could see it now—Sokka was just as worried about Jinx as they were, but to Katara, worry wasn’t enough. 

Jinx needed more than their concern. 

Jinx needed more than kind words. 

Katara sighed softly, her thoughts circling back to her own family—She and Sokka had lost a lot, even with what little they had, but through it all, they’d always had each other and they never had to face their grief alone.

Jinx had no one and suffered in grief alone for so long—it hurt Katara to imagine that feeling with years of isolation must’ve been like for Jinx, and whoever Ekko and Silco were, they weren’t here now. 

A memory surfaced, unbidden—her mother’s voice, soft and steady, singing to her and Sokka when they were small. The words themselves didn’t matter, it was the feeling they carried, the warmth, the love.

‘Maybe…maybe Jinx needed something like that. ’ Katara thought. Not the lullaby itself, but the reminder—that someone cared, that she wasn’t as alone as she believed. That she wasn’t too late, Katara knew she couldn’t heal Jinx’s pain—no one could, but she could make sure Jinx knew, no matter what, that she had a family now just like Aang.

They need to prove it with action, being consistent and present.

Katara sighed softly, her thoughts drifting to her Mother. When she was little, with what little she can remember, her mother had always known how to make her feel safe. A whispered lullaby, a steady hand smoothing her hair, a quiet reassurance that everything was going to be okay . 

Katara wished she had that same gift. She wanted to say the right words that Jinx would hold, to do something—anything—to let Jinx know she wasn’t alone. 

That Jinx mattered. That katara was here to help, but what could she say to someone who had lost so much? Someone who had suffered through things Katara couldn’t even begin to imagine?

Katara glanced toward the riverbank where Jinx had disappeared. A part of her wanted to go to her, to make sure she was okay, but she knew Jinx wouldn’t want that—Jinx left to give herself space, and Katara had to respect that.

She could be patient.

She would be patient.

Because Katara will be there.

No matter what.

“She must’ve been through so much,” Katara murmured, more to herself than to Sokka or Aang. Her voice trembled slightly, and she paused, taking a steadying breath. “W-We’ll be there for her. Even if she doesn’t want us to. Especially when she doesn’t want us to.”

Aang nodded silently, his expression thoughtful, his grey eyes flickering with something unreadable. It wasn’t missed by Katara that he had been watching Jinx closely from the start—concern and hope intertwining in his gaze. 

Aang wants to help people, sees the good in people. Hope in people. It was in his nature...Katara just hopes Jinx will let him.

Katara stirred the soup again, watching the steam rise, her grip tightening slightly on the ladle. She wanted to help Jinx, she wanted to reassure her, to find the right words, to reach her somehow —but everything she’d tried so far these past few weeks since finding her had fallen on deaf ears.

Jinx shrugged her off. 

‘Or maybe…maybe my efforts just weren’t good enough for her .’ Katara grimaced at the thought that stung. ‘ What else can I say to someone who sees the world as nothing but pain? ’ 

Katara wasn’t sure.  ‘Maybe…over time, she’ll see that. We’ll prove it. As many times as needed. And then maybe someday she’ll believe it. ’ her blue eyes flickered toward Sokka, watching as he continued to poke and prod at the fire with a stick, his face unreadable.

‘We’ll make sure of that. No matter how long it takes. No matter how many times Jinx pushes us away .’ Katara turned her attention back to the soup, the warmth of the fire doing little to ease the weight in her chest.

‘We'll be there when you need us. Even when you don’t want us to be. Because that’s what family does. And whether you believe it or not, Jinx— you’re part of our family now.’

That was their promise. 

The forest sang with life around Jinx as she walked along the river, her wrapped feet scuffing softly against the dirt path. 

Above her, birds chirped in a delicate symphony, their melodies weaving through the branches of ancient trees. 

The leaves rustled in the soft evening breeze, whispering secrets only they knew. Overhead, the sky was painted in warm hues—deep oranges melting into soft pinks and purples, casting a golden glow over the land. The river beside her shimmered, its clear waters twisting over smooth stones, reflecting the fading sunlight like scattered fragments of a dream.

Jinx’s pink eyes flickered up to the treetops, watching the birds flit between branches. Every trill, every call resonated in her ears, as though the forest itself was trying to soothe her restless mind.

She looked down at her hands, fingers fidgeting with the green arm wraps covering her forearms and palms, leaving only her fingertips exposed. Her thumbs tugged at the fabric—tightening, loosening. A small, pointless habit. Something to do when her thoughts threatened to drift where she didn’t want them to go.

She took a slow, deep breath, inhaling through her nose, letting the crisp, unpolluted air fill her lungs before exhaling heavily through her mouth. 

The wind brushed against her skin, carrying the scent of damp earth, blooming flowers, and fresh river water. Jinx shivered slightly, wrapping her arms around herself, pressing her fingers into the fabric of her wraps.

Everything here felt clean.  

Untouched. 

Pure.

It was nothing like Zaun.

The Lanes had always been suffocating—the air thick with smog, the streets damp with filth, the ever-present stench of chemicals clinging to her clothes. Noise was constant, grating, overwhelming but it was familiar and it was her home.

As shitty as it was.

But here…here, the world was quiet . 

The sounds of nature weren’t intrusive —they belonged . For a moment, she almost believed she was somewhere else —somewhere that had never known war, never known pain and that everything wasn’t just a crazy dream . 

But her own mind betrayed her.

The serenity of the forest couldn’t hold back the flood of memories clawing at her from the dark corners of her thoughts. As Sokka’s sincere words echoed in her head, tangled with her own as Jinx winced, her face twisting in frustration.

‘Why couldn’t I stop myself? Just end the conversation there earlier…why did I have to add more ? ’ Her face cringed as shame crawled up her spine, an old, familiar weight pressing against her chest. 

Jinx had said too much .

And then there was Silco . Her heart twisted painfully, guilt gnawing at her insides—She had called him not a good person. Jinx swallowed hard, her grip on her arms tightening as she replayed that moment she had spoken the words so easily —but now, in the silence, they felt wrong .

Silco had saved her.

Had protected her.

Had defended her.

Had needed her.

Had loved her.

Jinx’s jaw clenched as she fought against the swell of emotions rising in her chest. The world around her was so peaceful , so far removed from the life she had known, and yet…the past refused to let her go.

‘Why did I say that? ’ The thought echoed relentlessly in Jinx’s head, gnawing at her like a parasite. 

The only one who had taken her in when no one else would. The only one who had seen her as more than a mistake . A screw up . Silco had stood by her side no matter what —even when she had messed up. Even when she had ruined everything .

‘ Why did I say that?’ The thought echoed relentlessly in Jinx’s head, gnawing at her like a parasite. ‘Silco had been everything to me.’ 

The only one who had taken her in when no one else would. The only one who had seen her as more than a mistake . Silco had stood by her side no matter what —even when she had messed up—when Jinx had ruined everything .

He had loved her. Unconditionally. Jinx swallowed hard, her hands clenched into fists as memories flooded her mind.

"Don’t cry. You’re perfect."

She could still hear his voice, steady and unwavering, even when she had felt like the furthest thing from it. Silco had believed in her. Called her his daughter. Promised he would never forsake her when Piltover had tried to bargain for her life in exchange for his dream for the Nation of Zaun. 

Silco refused. 

Silco had rather let his dream burn than give her up to Topside.

A cool glow of green neon filled the quiet room, mingling softly with the shadowed edges and rusted metal shelves. 

Jinx was older now, just recently turned fourteen, not quite the little girl she had been, but an uncontrollable force of chaos she’s become and growing stronger and deadlier with time. Her blue hair was longer, falling down her back in loose waves, and yet—Jinx still didn’t braid it herself because behind her, with the ease of someone who had done this countless times before, was Silco.

Jinx sat quietly on a worn stool, blue eyes fixed absently on the floor as Silco stood patiently behind her, carefully threading strands of her vivid blue hair into twin braids as his fingers moved with practiced gentleness, each twist and weave careful yet confident. 

Silco left the long bangs untouched, on purpose— allowing them to wave loosely at the sides of her face, framing the haunted look in her blue eyes. 

Feeling his hands as they moved through her hair with calm precision, pulling strands together, weaving them into the twin braids she would wear for years to come. 

Jinx looked tired. 

Not just in the exhausted way soldiers did after a long fight. Not just in the grieving way people did after losing someone, but in the way that said she had been fighting something inside her own head for what felt like a long time that she didn’t know what it was like to be at peace anymore.

Silco broke the comfortable silence first, his voice quiet and measured, free of judgment or anger. “Tell me again. What happened tonight, Jinx?”

Jinx’s shoulders tensed slightly at the name—at her name. She swallowed hard, staring into the distance. 

“I messed it all up again. I saw them. They were everywhere, and I-I couldn’t stop hearing them.” Her voice was thin, hesitant, almost afraid. 

“I couldn’t focus,” Jinx admitted, voice tight, hesitant—like she was still expecting him to snap at her, to scold her, to treat her like a child or worse, see that she was too much of a screw up and throw her away.

“They were there. Talking. Laughing. Mocking me.” Her fingers dug into her lap, her knuckles turning white. “I couldn’t shut them out. I-I thought I was getting better.”

Silco paused, fingers lingering mid-weave. His voice remained calm, almost soothing, yet firm enough to cut through the haze clouding her mind. “Them,” he echoed quietly, resuming the slow braid. “You mean the ones who are already gone?”

Jinx nodded slowly, blinking rapidly as memories flickered behind her blue eyes, voices whispering just out of reach. “Mylo. Claggor. Vi. Everyone. They’re always there. I-I can’t make them stop. They’re loud, and they’re angry. They…they hate me.”

Silco hummed, continuing his work. “And what did they say?” He asked, Silco watched as Jinx’s throat let out a shaky breath.

“They said I would never be enough. That I ruin everything. That I don’t belong anywhere. That I should have died, not them.” She swallowed, blue eyes darting away as Jinx squeezed her eyes shut, her voice cracking slightly. “That it’s all my fault.”

Silco’s touch softened even further as he secured one braid and began on the other side, fingertips gentle against her scalp. And then, his voice came—smooth, slow, unwavering. 

“They aren’t real, Jinx,” He said quietly, voice soft and even. “You know that.” He took his time, fingers still calmly moving through her hair. 

Jinx hesitated, eyes still squeezed tightly shut, fighting back tears she refused to shed. “They feel real.”

Silco hummed softly in acknowledgment, his voice soothing in its quiet certainty. “They feel real because you let them be. But you’re stronger than that, aren’t you?”

Jinx didn’t answer immediately, instead chewing her lip anxiously, uncertain. Her voice dropped to a quiet whisper, desperate and raw. 

“Do you…do you ever see people who aren’t really there?” Jinx asked.

For a brief moment, Silco’s hands stilled, his gaze distant as shadows crossed his face—ghosts from his own past full of grief and regrets—a woman’s face flickering in his mind resurface that twisted a deep scar that ached. 

A mistake he couldn’t take back, a grave mistake costing him his best friend, costing him so much more than losing just her —a brother, an old friend, and himself. 

It cost him everything . 

Now , all he had left is—

Then his fingers resumed their gentle rhythm, braiding slowly, carefully. “We all have ghosts, child. But they only have power if we listen.”

The quiet stretched gently between them, filled only by the soft sounds of Silco’s fingers working steadily through Jinx’s hair. The room grew heavier, yet warmer, the darkness less frightening in the comforting presence of the only one who understood.

Jinx finally broke the silence again, her voice quiet but steadier now. “What if…what if they never go away?”

Silco’s voice was gentle, firm, as he finished the braid and carefully tied the end. “Then you learn to live with them,” he murmured softly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

“But never let them rule you.” Silco warned as  Jinx’s breath trembled slightly, she nodded as weight on her heart remained, but somehow, it felt just a little lighter. 

Jinx slowly reached up, brushing a hand gently along her freshly braided hair. “Thanks,” she whispered quietly.

Silco squeezed her shoulder gently, voice steady and sure. “Anytime, Jinx.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The room was quiet.

And then—Jinx exhaled sharply, blinking back whatever emotion had been rising in her chest, and when she spoke, her voice was lighter, looser, shifting away from the raw truth she didn’t want to face anymore.

“You tied them too tight.” 

Silco chuckled, stepping away.

“You’ll live.” 

Jinx huffed, pouting slightly—but the tension in her shoulders had eased.

And yet, none of that changed the truth. 

‘I killed him. ’ Jinx squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head, as if she could shake away the memory of Silco’s final moments. 

His blood on her hands. 

The way his breath had hitched, his strength failing as he looked at her— not in anger, not in fear, but in understanding. Like he had known this was how it would end and didn’t hate her for it. 

‘It's my fault. It’s always my fault. ’ Her nails dug into her palms, but even as the guilt coiled around her ribs, constricting like a vice, she couldn’t ignore the other voice buried in the back of her mind.

The voice that whispered the things she didn’t want to admit.

The darker side of Silco.

The things he had asked of her.

The things she had done in his name.

The bodies she had left in her wake.

The multitude of orphans he had created when he took over the Lanes. The Shimmer that Doc created, and what Silco helped manufacture and spread around and across the underground that had destroyed more lives than it had saved. 

The people who had suffered because of them .

And then—there was Ekko. 

Jinx’s stomach twisted at the thought of him. 

The Boy Savior. The leader of the Firelights. The first and only person who had ever tried to save Powder. Jinx knew why he had been sniffing around Silco’s lair all those years ago, and he hadn’t been looking for Silco.

He had been looking for her.

Powder.

Ekko had always been so sure she could be saved. That she was trapped in Silco’s grasp, that she needed rescuing, but he had never understood. 

He never could .

Jinx stopped walking.

The river’s soft, rhythmic flowing filled her ears, pulling her attention away from the screaming in her head. 

Slowly, she stepped off the dirt path, making her way toward the water’s edge as her wrapped feet pressed against smooth pebbles as she climbed onto a cluster of stones, choosing the largest one to sit on. 

Jinx pulled off her simple green cloth footwear, exposing her bare feet to the open air, and dipped them into the cool, clear water as a small shiver ran up her spine at the sensation, but it grounded her. 

The cold was real. 

The river was real. 

This moment—real.

This still wasn’t a crazy dream. Jinx rested her elbows on her knees, her shoulders slumping as she exhaled a heavy breath as her pink eyes stared down into the water as her reflection wavered with the gentle current. 

Unstable. 

Fractured. 

Just like her.

The air in Silco’s lair was thick with the acrid stench of oil, smoke, and chemicals—a suffocating cocktail that clung to the walls, seeped into every crevice, and coiled around the senses like a noose.

Young Ekko’s heart hammered against his ribs as he crept silently through the dim corridors, every creak of the old pipes and hiss of machinery sending a jolt of adrenaline through his veins. His breaths came fast and shallow beneath his mask, each step measured, deliberate. He scanned his surroundings with sharp, darting eyes, his pulse quickening with every second that passed.

None of it mattered.

The danger. The risks. The threats lurking around every corner.

He had one goal—find Powder.

Ekko’s brown eyes flickered frantically across the shadowed room as he slipped inside one of Silco’s many chambers, the steady hum of machinery thrumming against his ears. Then—he saw her.

A young Powder stood at a cluttered workbench, her small hands fiddling with tools, assembling something intricate with the focus of a mind lost in its own world. The faint glow of a flickering lamp caught the strands of her electric blue hair, painting her in hues of artificial gold.

Ekko froze, his heart skipping a beat as a flood of emotions crashed over him—relief, hope, and something deeper, something raw that he didn’t dare to name.

“Powder!” he breathed, his voice cracking as he tore off his mask, no longer caring about stealth, no longer caring about anything else. He ran to her, his feet moving faster than his thoughts, and before she could react, his arms were around her, crushing her in a desperate embrace.

“I found you,” he whispered, his voice trembling, barely above a breath. “I—I found you…”

Powder stiffened in his arms, her entire body going rigid. Slowly, she turned her head, brows furrowing in confusion, blue eyes widening just slightly.

“Ekko…?” she murmured, voice uncertain, unsteady. Her tone was sharp, but there was something else laced within it. Something hesitant.

Ekko pulled back slightly, gripping her shoulders, his hazel-brown eyes scanning her face, desperate, searching. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice guarded.

“I’m here to get you out,” Ekko said, a hopeful grin splitting his face despite the unease creeping into his chest. 

“I’ve been looking for you—” His voice dropped to a hushed whisper, looking around their surroundings before locking his eyes on Powder’s blue eyes. “The Firelights are waiting. We’ve gotta move before Silco’s goons show up.”

He reached for her hand, his grip firm but gentle, and tugged. “Come on, Powder. Let’s go.”

She didn’t move. 

Instead, she yanked her hand free, stepping back as something cold, something distant, flickered in her expression.

“No.”

Ekko’s stomach twisted. “What?” he asked, his heart pounding in his ears. “Powder, we don’t have time for this.”

Her jaw clenched. “I’m not Powder,” she snapped, voice sharp like shattered glass—her blue eyes gleamed under the artificial light. 

“I’m Jinx now.”

Ekko’s face fell.

He shook his head, taking a step forward. “What are you talking about? You’re Powder.” His voice was pleading, urgent, like if he just said it enough times, he could bring her back.

She took another step back.

Ekko’s grip tightened at his sides, his desperation clawing at him. “Whatever Silco’s done to you, whatever lies he’s fed you, it doesn’t matter. We can fix it. We can fix us. Just come home with me.”

Jinx’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “I don’t need fixing,” she bit out, her voice rising. Her growing loose bangs swayed over her face, casting shadows over the growing storm in her blue eyes. “And I don’t need rescuing. I chose this, Ekko. I work for Silco because I want to.”

Ekko flinched like she’d struck him, swallowing hard, shaking his head. “You don’t mean that. Y-You can’t mean that.” he whispered.

“I do .” Her voice was cold, final.

Ekko stared at her, his throat tightening, his heart shattering into pieces too small to pick up. 

“No, you don’t,” he insisted, stepping forward, reaching for her again, “This isn’t you, Powder. This is him. Silco’s twisted you, poisoned you. But I know you’re still in there, I know —”

The slap came out of nowhere.

A sharp crack rang through the room, his words cut off mid-sentence as his head snapped to the side.

Ekko staggered back, a stunned silence hanging between them. He raised a hand to his cheek, feeling the sting of her palm lingering against his skin, burning hotter than the tears welling in his eyes.

Jinx stood there, arm still raised, her hand trembling as she lowered it.

She hadn’t hesitated.

Ekko’s chest felt hollow .

“I’m not Powder,” she said again, her voice flat, mechanical. “And I don’t need you to save me, Boy Savior. ”

Ekko’s breath hitched.

Jinx reached for the gun strapped to her small waist, and the second she pulled it, Ekko went still.

His hazel-brown eyes locked onto her blue eyes—Cold. Unrelenting. Empty.

“ Go ,” she said, voice steady, controlled, but something wavered beneath it, something she refused to let crack through. “ Leave . Now. ”

Ekko swallowed hard. “…Powder,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Jinx’s grip on the gun tightened, her finger hovering just over the trigger. “I said go.”

Ekko slowly raised his hands, his heart hammering in his chest. Every part of him screamed to stay, to fight for her, but the weight of the gun in her hand, the way she looked at him like a stranger—So, with one last, shattered breath, Ekko forced himself to take a step back.

Then another.

And another.

Until he turned.

And ran.

His footsteps faded into the corridor, swallowed by the cold hum of machinery and the distant echoes of a world that had just slipped through his fingers.

Jinx lowered the gun, her arm falling limply to her side. She stood there, staring at the empty space where he had been, where he had begged her, where she had let him go.

Her whole body shook. Her breath came out ragged, unsteady. 

Then— her knees buckled.

Jinx collapsed onto the cold metal floor, curling into herself, her arms wrapping tightly around her own frame as the gun clattered from her grip.

A shaky, broken whisper slipped past her lips, barely more than a breath. “W-Why won’t they all just leave me alone?” 

And in the hollow depths of Silco’s lair, as machines whirred and the scent of oil thickened in the air—

Jinx cried.

And when they inevably met again the second time? Completing one of her errands for Silco, her finger on the trigger, bullets flying, bodies hitting the ground.

The way Ekko had looked at her —like he didn’t recognize her anymore—like he was seeing a complete stranger .

Jinx clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as her breath came fast and uneven. 

"Why won’t they all just leave me alone?"

Her own whisper echoed back at her, small and shaking, spoken by a child as Jinx squeezed her pink eyes shut, she wasn’t a child anymore, she wasn’t Powder anymore—And yet, even as she sat there her own mind wouldn’t let it go. 

Wouldn’t let him go.

Ekko had come for her .

He had looked for her .

She had hurt him .

She had killed him.

Jinx swallowed, her throat tightening. Ekko had always been the smart one. The quick one. The one who never stopped fighting, even when the world tried to tear him down. 

But he was so stupid . 

When he had thought she needed saving. That Silco had stolen her. That she was trapped in some dark, twisted world, just waiting for a hero to pull her out. But the truth was so much worse.

Silco hadn’t stolen her.

She had chosen him.

She had chosen this life.

She had chosen to be Jinx .

Because there was no place for Powder in any world anymore. Her hands trembled as she lifted them, staring at her fingers as if they weren’t her own. They had built so many things. Weapons. Bombs. Death machines. But the only thing she couldn’t build—could never fix —was the damage she left behind that day .

Jinx let out a bitter laugh, quiet and humorless. ‘Ekko. Silco. Vander. Vi. Claggor. Mylo. Isha.’ Her mind whispered their names like ghosts, each one tethered to a different kind of pain. A different kind of loss.

Ekko had been the first and last one who actually tried for her—tried too hard, and kept trying—chasing after her, until he didn’t anymore.

It worked, Ekko gave up on her. Kept coming back, not to bring her back to him—but to stop her.

Jinx’s pink eyes stared into the river, the memory of Ekko’s face haunting her. The way his hazel-brown eyes had filled with hope when he first saw her, only to shatter into something broken and hollow when she raised her gun. 

The look of betrayal, of heartbreak, of disbelief—it was burned into her mind, into her soul. Jinx shifted her feet beneath the clear water, watching the ripples distort her reflection as her toes brushed against the smooth stones beneath the surface, but the sensation did nothing to ground her.

“You’re Powder, ” Ekko’s voice echoed in her head, seeing his flickering figure standing right beside her in the corner of her eye as Jinx’s hands clenched into fists, gripping the green fabric of her arm wraps so tightly her knuckles turned white. 

“I’m not your Powder,” She whispered under her breath, the words a mantra she had repeated so many times before, but now, they felt hollow. Because deep down, a part of her hated what she had done, Ekko had only ever wanted to help her, to save her. Ekko cared about her, and she had slapped him, just like Vi had slapped her. 

‘Ekko actually came for me… always...and I ruined him. ’ The thought made her stomach twist, her jaw tightening as her heart clenched painfully, and if only Jinx hadn’t just turned him away—she hurt him, like she had been hurt before to the boy who didn’t deserve it. 

‘ You’re not Powder anymore ,’ Jinx told herself, her inner voice sharp and unforgiving, yet the guilt wouldn’t leave her.

The river flowed steadily around Jinx’s feet, its purity a stark contrast to the chaos that churned inside her. 

Seeing the purity of this world’s nature, Jinx had a chance to start over, to live in a world that wasn’t drowning in toxins and eternal despair, but the past refused to let go of her, clinging to her like a second skin.

Jinx’s mind wandered back to Ekko’s voice, to the way he had said her name. Not Jinx. Not the monster Vi along with Silco had molded her into, no, Ekko had called her Powder—the name of the girl she used to be, the girl she had left behind in the ruins of Zaun…it was just something about the way he said it, and the way he looked at her.

Tears welled in her eyes, but Jinx quickly blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. She didn’t deserve to cry, not after everything she had done. 

Jinx’s feet moved again beneath the water, as if trying to wash away the sins that clung to her. But no matter how clean the river was, no matter how pure the air around her felt, Jinx couldn’t escape the weight of her guilt. 

‘I don’t need saving ,’ Jinx thought bitterly, her lips twisting into a grimace. ‘ But…m-maybe…maybe I should have let him try .’ Jinx sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping as she rested her elbows on her knees. 

The world around her was peaceful— the birds sang in the trees, the wind carried the sweet scent of earth and leaves, and the water glistened under the fading light of the sunset. 

It was beautiful, untouched, serene. 

A stark reminder of everything she wasn’t . JInx fingers traced the edges of her arm wraps, tugging at the green fabric nervously as she tried to push the memories away. But they always clung to her, the weight of her actions pulling her down like an anchor.

“ Ekko… ” she murmured softly, the name barely audible over the gentle sound of the river. 

Jinx quite honestly, she didn’t know if he was alive, or dead—killed— or if had made it out unscathed, if he hated her now or if he still held onto that hope she had crushed after that suicide stunt, she pulled at the bridge. 

Either way, she will face him again— not now, not ever again because Jinx was far too late . She’s far away from the Undercity, she didn’t even know how she got here, or if there is even a possibility to somehow return. 

Yet, deep down, a small part of her questioned if she even wants to go back? There’s nothing waiting for her. Here? Well, she had at least something to do(?) it’s either this or she can go back to go off with a bang.

Jinx’s pink eyes lifted to the sky, watching the hues of the sunset shift and blend together in a way that seemed almost magical. A part of her longed to feel that magic, to let it cleanse her, to let it heal the broken pieces inside her, and yet another part of her—the part that was Jinx—knew it was impossible.

‘Monsters didn't heal.’ She inhaled deeply, the clean air filling her lungs, and exhaled slowly, trying to let go of the ache in her chest. For now, all she could do was sit by the river, her feet submerged in its clear waters, and let the world move on without her. 

Here Jinx was, sitting in a place so far removed from the Lanes, from Zaun, from everything she had ever known. The peace of the forest surrounded her, yet the chaos inside her mind raged on as a flicker of Ekko stood there beside her, but Jinx didn’t dare face him. 

Tried to ignore him. And for all the purity of this place, Jinx couldn’t help but wonder.

‘…How long will this last? How long until I ruin this, too? ’

The sun dipped below the horizon, its final rays fading into the distance, casting the forest in a soft, dim glow. Shadows stretched across the ground, and the vibrant colors of the day gave way to the encroaching night. A cool breeze stirred the leaves, carrying with it the scent of wood smoke from the gang’s campfire.