Stolen Pieces
The smoke, the smell of blood that clung to the air, the screams and the eyes full of horror from the kids. The weight of being responsable for so many lives while trying to live up to the expectations of her father figure, it was all the same to that night. But the shimmer in her veins made it worse, warping the edges of reality. The present bled into the past. She could hear Powder cry behind her, she could see Claggor’s glassy stare, empty and unseeing. Mylo with the rod going through his chest.
It was the same all over again, but this time she would not fail to protect them.
Smoke curled through the air, thick with the iron tang of blood and the acrid burn of gunpowder. The flickering emergency lights cast jagged shadows against rusted beams, turning the factory into a maze of chaos and fire. Screams of terrified children echoed in the cavernous space, their small figures darting between conveyor belts and overturned crates, desperate to escape.
Vi stood at the center of it all, breath ragged, body thrumming with power. The shimmer roared in her veins, twisting her perception, distorting the edges of reality. But she didn’t have time to think about that. Not now.
A group of enforcers blocked the main exit, rifles raised, barking orders she didn’t bother listening to. She moved.
Her claws tore through the first enforcer’s armor like it was nothing, shredding through flesh and bone in a single swipe. Blood splattered across the cold metal floor. The second one barely had time to react before she drove her knee into his ribs, caving them in with a sickening crunch. The third got a shot off. The bullet grazed her side, but she didn’t feel it. Not over the burn of shimmer in her system. She lunged, her mechanical fist crashing into his skull. The impact echoed like a hammer strikin stone.
Get them out. That was the goal. Get the kids out.
“Go!” she snarled over her shoulder, barely sparing a glance at the terrified children huddled behind overturned machinery. “Now!”
Some of them ran. Others stayed frozen in fear, their wide, tear-filled eyes fixed on the carnage. She turned back just in time to see another wave of enforcers pushing forward, armored boots stomping through the blood-slicked floor.
Then, her vision blurred A crack in reality. A fissure in her mind.
She heard Powder’s wail behind her. High-pitched, panicked. She turned, expecting to see a terrified child, but instead—blue hair, trembling hands, shattered eyes.
"Vi!" Powder sobbed.
No. Not real.
Her breath hitched. The shimmer pulsed violently, twisting everything around her. The factory walls flickered, replaced by burning rubble. The acrid scent of fire, of blood, of that night filled her nose. Her stomach lurched.
She blinked hard, shaking her head. Not now. Not now.
Claggor’s lifeless stare flashed in her vision. Mylo’s limp body. Vander reaching for her with bloodied hands. No. No. Not again.
The screams were louder now. Powder’s voice cracked in her ears. "You left me all alone! I just wanted to help! You left me to die alone."
Not real.
A new voice. Deep. Steady. The one that once made her feel safe. "You failed them, Violet. You failed us all"
Her breath came faster, ragged. Her chest heaved.
"Shut up," she rasped. The shimmer burned hotter.
"You killed us all," they said in unison, voices merging into a cacophony of blame and grief, pressing into her skull like a vice.
"Shut up!"
She clutched her head, fingers digging into her scalp. The world tilted. Flickered. Too much. Too much.
The enforcers surrounded her now, moving in a slow, deliberate circle. Their rifles raised. Their voices calm.
"Surrender now" one ordered.
"Come quietly," another said.
But she didn’t see enforcers. She saw them, she always did.
Claggor. Mylo. Vander. Powder. Their faces twisted with hate.
"You killed us, Vi."
Her breath hitched. No.
"You were supposed to protect us."
Her vision swam. The shimmer in her veins pulsed, turning the edges of her sight violet. Her pupils blew wide, her irises almost glowing. The veins in her eyes darkened, shimmer pressing into her skull.
"You let me die, Vi."
Then, something inside her snapped. A low, animalistic growl tore from her throat. Her grip on reality slipped entirely. And when she looked up, her gaze was wild—unseeing, unfocused, lost to the shimmer’s grasp.
Then she killed them.
She didn’t even register the first one’s scream as she lunged, her claws sinking deep into his throat. She didn’t feel the bones crack under her grip as she tore through them, moving with vicious, mechanical efficiency. One after the other. No hesitation. No thought. Just blood.
The last enforcer tried to run. She caught her by the collar, dragging her back. Her face, Powder’s face, looked up at her, eyes wide, pleading.
Her grip tightened, fingers digging into the fabric of her uniform. She raised her mechanical arm, shimmering veins pulsing beneath her skin.
Just kill her, she is not real, Vi. She is dead.
But as she hesitated, staring into those terrified blue eyes, standing face to face with her dead sister. It didn´t feel right. Then, a shot.
A sharp clang rang out as the bullet struck metal, jerking her arm back. It didn’t hurt, but the force was enough to snap her out of it, enough to stagger her just a step.
The enforcer didn’t waste the chance. She scrambled away, slipping from her grasp before she could react. Her boots pounded against the factory floor, disappearing into the smoke.
Vi shook off the sting in her arm, rolling her shoulder as she turned toward the source of the shot. Four figures emerged from the smoke, their silhouettes cutting through the dim, flickering light of the factory. Their movements were slow, deliberate, their weapons raised but not firing. Firelights. That was her first thought.
She exhaled sharply, tilting her head. ¨ “Well, you guys could've waited until I killed her to make your grand entrance”
No one answered.
Instead, one of them stepped forward, broad-shouldered and moving with a familiar weight. It wasn’t until the dim light caught the glint of metal on her arm that Vi’s expression flickered. A prosthetic. Heavy. Industrial.Similar to her own.
Vi scoffed, flexing the fingers on her mechanical hand. “At least it wasn’t my good one, right?” she said, her voice light, almost amused.
Still, no answer.
The four figures kept moving, slow but steady, closing the distance between them.
Vi tensed. Something about this wasn’t right. They weren’t posturing like the Firelights usually did. They weren’t threatening her, not exactly—but they weren’t scared either.
She sighed, straightening up, shaking off the last traces of her hallucinations. “There’s no reason for this to get ugly. ¨
The one with the hood tilted their head, voice calm, steady. “Oh, there’s plenty of reasons actually.”
Vi’s eyes narrowed. That voice, something about it itched at her brain, but she didn’t recognize it. The four of them moved in sync, weapons still raised, steps careful but sure.
Then, a shift in the air. A presence behind her.
Vi went still, she could feel him behind her. His presence seeping into the air like smoke curling around her throat. Silco.
Her fingers twitched. Her breath came slow and controlled, but inside, something knotted tight in her chest. Had he seen? Had he seen the way she cracked, the way the hallucinations had clawed into her mind and made her weak, vulnerable?
She didn’t turn to face him right away. She clenched her fists instead, rolling her shoulders back, trying to look strong. Because that was what mattered, wasn’t it? Strength. Power. Usefulness. That was what made her worth something. That was what kept her at his side.
She exhaled through her nose, steadying herself, expectant, waiting for him to speak, to judge what she had done. Would he be proud? Disappointed?
The four in front of her tensed the moment Silco stepped into the light. Even through their masks, through the flickering dimness of the factory, Vi could see it. The way their bodies stiffened, hands gripping their weapons a little tighter. Like a wire pulled taut, ready to snap.
But it was the smaller one that reacted first. A sharp inhale. A step back.
The one with the swordbat didn’t move at all. But Vi could hear his heart beating faster and harder, he was angry. His fingers twitched like he was holding himself back from lunging forward.
Silco’s voice came smooth, controlled, with that sharp-edged amusement he always carried. ¨I will give you credit for the stunt, my dear. ¨
Vi didn´t turn, she wasn´t stupid. They would reach for him first, that much was certain. She could sense it in the way the Firelights shifted, in the way their bodies coiled like springs ready to snap. If she so much as glanced at Silco, they would take it as an opening, an opportunity to strike. She had already failed to protect her family once, she wouldn´t fail again. Never again.
In the distance, but growing louder, the sounds of heavy steps. The enforcers were quicker than she had expected. She had to act now before it was too late.
The Firelights moved as one, surrounding her, weapons drawn. The Hound was nothing more than another monster to put down. Vi felt it too, the weight of their aggression, their intent. Yet, even through the haze of Shimmer, she wasn’t trying to kill them. She knew, just as well as them, that she deserved this. She deserves to suffer, to die for everything she has done. Not just to the firelights, but to her family and herself. She didn´t want to fight anymore, she just needed them to back off, to be afraid of her. To leave her alone.
The fight broke out in an instant.
Ekko came at her first, fast and relentless. His bat cracked against her side, but she barely registered the pain. Jinx moved next, her twin pistols blazing, forcing Vi to weave through the bullets. Then Sevika charged, heavier, stronger, her mechanical arm colliding with Vi’s own. Sparks flew. The impact rattled through Vi’s skull, disorienting her further.
She was sloppy, too slow. Shimmer clouded her vision, twisting reality, making her feel invincible and unbearably weak all at onc. Her movements erratic and unfocused. He will not see her like this.
Somewhere in the chaos, Caitlyn had slipped away. She reached one of the enforcers, her voice urgent. “I´m Caitlyn Kiramman, from House Kiramman. Silco and his followers are the target. The firelights are to be left alone.”
The enforcer hesitated, but the order was clear.
Sevika moved fast, faster than Vi could react in her state of mind.
The blade plunged into her abdomen, a sharp, unforgiving pain that stole the breath from her lungs. Vi let out a strangled gasp, but Sevika didn’t let her fall. She held her up, the grip on Vi’s arm firm, keeping her on her feet just long enough for the blade to sink in a second time.
Vi’s breath hitched, the world lurching as fresh agony spread through her body. She clenched her teeth, refusing to go down without a fight. Her body reacted on instinct. With the last of her strength, she threw a punch, her fist colliding with Sevika’s face with enough force to send her staggering back. The impact knocked Sevika’s mask loose, sending it slipping from her face.
¨Sevika? ¨ The world blurred as she staggered back, one hand clamping over the wound. Blood seeped through her fingers. She dropped to her knees.
Silco’s men surged forward, weapons raised, forcing the Firelights to retreat a step. And then “Violet” Silco’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp with something she couldn’t quite place. Panic? Anger?
The Firelights froze. Something about the way he said it—her name, her real name—sent a cold shock through them.
Jinx’s breath hitched.
Ekko’s grip tightened on his weapon.
Sevika’s face twisted in realization, horror creeping in like a slow-moving tide.
Silco was already moving, pushing past his men to reach her. He knelt, fingers catching her chin as he turned her face up to him. His sharp eyes scanned the damage, the blood, the wound, the shimmer vursing through her veins.
Then, with deliberate care, he lifted her mask away.
Silence.
Jinx felt the world shift beneath her feet. The battle around her faded into a distant hum, like the static before a bomb goes off. All she could see was her.
Vi’s face was sharp now, her cheekbones cutting shadows into her gaunt features. Her skin, once warm and freckled, was painted in war paint and streaks of grime, marred by scars she couldn’t place. And her eyes now purple, unnatural, burning with something that wasn’t hers. The Firelights stared, unable to reconcile the image before them with the girl they once knew. Her hair was different, slicked back, shaved at the sides, just like his. Just like Silco’s. It hit Jinx all at once, how much had changed, how much had been taken from her sister. How had she not seen it sooner? Her body was covered in burns and scars, her muscles coiled tight even in pain. She looked like something built for war, like someone they could no longer call their own.
Jinx swallowed hard.
She wanted to believe it wasn’t her sister. That this was just some imposter wearing her name, someone who only looked like Vi, moved like her, fought like her. But Jinx knew, she would always know.
Jinx knew every mark Vi used to have. The little scrape on her knee from falling off their bunk bed when they were kids. The jagged line on her forearm from climbing too fast up the pipes. The burn on her wrist from one of Mylo’s stupid tricks. But these? These were new. These were deep and cruel and made by hands that weren’t hers.
Jinx felt sick; her hands curled into fist, nails digging into her palms. A part of her had wanted this moment for so long to see Vi again, to prove she was still alive. But not like this. Not when Vi was bleeding, trembling under Silco’s hand like a stray dog he had trained to obey. Not when she could feel Vi’s pain and suffering like her own.
Silco moved, gathering Vi into his arms with practiced ease, just as he had years ago.