𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘺𝘦

╰┈➤ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: mention of murder,mention
of drugging(?)

*all of the events of this chapter take place two to three years prior to the current timeline (see authors note)

THE MEMORY PLAYED IN

Aviva's mind, like a film she couldn't shut off, vivid and sharp around the edges. It had been her first kill. Her first injection. The day she stopped being a girl and started becoming the weapon Silco wanted her to be.

She was in the dimly lit lab Silco had set up for her experiments, the air thick with the scent of chemicals and soil. Her plants, which had once been harmless companions, twisted restlessly in their pots, their tendrils writhing as if they could sense what was about to happen.

Silco stood behind her, silent but watchful, his presence a weight on her back. On the table before her lay the shimmering syringe. The concoction inside gleamed in the low light—a mixture she'd crafted to amplify her plants' strength. But this time, Silco had insisted on something more.

"Not just the plants," he had said earlier, his voice calm but firm. "They're an extension of you, Aviva. For them to reach their potential, you have to lead by example."

Her hands trembled as she picked up the syringe, her gold eyes darting between it and the writhing vines at her feet. "I don't know if this is... safe," she murmured, her voice unsteady.

Silco stepped closer, his gloved hand reaching out to gently tap the inside of her elbow. "Safety has never been a luxury we've had, has it?" His tone was almost soothing, like a parent coaxing a child to take medicine. "Trust your work. Trust yourself. You've already made this. Now see what you're truly capable of."

Aviva swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her gaze lingered on the shimmering liquid in the syringe, her reflection fractured in its gleam. Then, slowly, she rolled up her sleeve and pressed the needle into her arm.

The rush was immediate and overwhelming. Heat spread through her veins, and her heart raced as if it might burst. Her vision blurred for a moment, colors sharpening unnaturally around the edges. She gasped, stumbling back, but Silco caught her by the shoulders, steadying her.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low and approving. "Feel it. Control it."
As the sensation settled, she looked down at her plants. The vines had changed. They were larger, more vibrant, and their movements were no longer aimless. They turned toward her, their semi-sentient nature heightened, their tendrils quivering in anticipation.

"Now," Silco said, gesturing to the figure bound in the corner of the room—a man who had betrayed him, tied and gagged, his eyes wide with fear. "Show me what you've created."

Aviva hesitated, her breathing uneven. The plants seemed to sense her hesitation, their movements slowing, almost questioning.
Silco crouched beside her, his voice soft but insistent. "They listen to you. They're yours, Aviva. You hold their power in your hands. And he—" Silco glanced at the man, his gaze cold and calculating. "He's nothing. A traitor. A lesson."

Aviva clenched her fists, the rush of the injection still coursing through her. She took a shaky step forward, extending her hand toward the plants. They responded immediately, their tendrils slithering toward the man like serpents.

He thrashed and screamed behind his gag, but it was no use. The vines wrapped around him, their barbs digging into his skin. With a flick of Aviva's wrist, they tightened, silencing his cries as they crushed the life out of him.

When it was over, the room was eerily quiet. The vines withdrew, leaving the man's lifeless body slumped in the corner. Aviva stared at her bloodied plants, her chest heaving as the weight of what she had done settled over her.
Silco stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "This is just the beginning," he said, his voice calm and assured. "You're not just a scientist, Aviva. You're an artist. And this—" he gestured to the scene before them, "—this is your masterpiece."

Aviva looked down at her trembling hands, her breath shaky. The adrenaline coursing through her veins told her she should feel powerful. But all she felt was hollow

THE DIM LIGHT OF THE LAB

flickered, casting shadows over the chipped mirror in front of Aviva. She sat on a creaky stool, a brush in one hand and a jar of dark blue dye in the other. The familiar scent of chemicals filled the air as she leaned closer, methodically applying the dye to her hair.

Her movements were slow, almost meditative, as the white strands gradually disappeared beneath the deep blue. She didn't glance at her reflection often—just enough to make sure she didn't miss a spot. It was a ritual, one she'd repeated for as long as she could remember.

The sound of a metallic creak broke her focus, and she caught sight of Jinx slipping into the room, her steps light and her grin wide. "Y'know," Jinx started, leaning against the doorframe, "This might be the most boring and pointless thing I've ever seen you do." Aviva didn't look up. "Then why are you watching?"

Jinx smirked and sauntered over, her blue braids swinging with each step. "Because you're cute when you're all serious. Like some tortured artist. All broody and mysterious." She perched herself on the counter next to the sink, swinging her legs. "But seriously, Avi. Why do you do this? Your white hair's kinda badass. Makes you look like a ghost or somethin'."

Aviva paused, the brush hovering over her head. She frowned slightly, her gold eyes reflecting in the cracked mirror. "I don't know," she admitted after a moment. "I've just... always done it."

"Always?" Jinx tilted her head, curiosity gleaming in her wide eyes. "Like, forever always? Even when you were a kid?" "Yeah," Aviva said quietly, dipping the brush back into the jar. "Silco... he told me to, back when I was little. I never asked why. I just... did it."

Jinx's grin faltered for a moment, her playful demeanor softening. "Huh. That's weird, right? I mean, did he ever tell you why?"

Aviva shrugged, resuming her careful strokes with the brush. "I guess I never thought to ask. It was just... something I was supposed to do. I didn't question it. Still don't."

Jinx leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Sounds like you're scared to find out the answer, Avi."
Aviva glanced at her in the mirror, one brow raised. "I'm not scared of anything."

"Oh, really?" Jinx teased, her voice lilting. "Not even me?" She slid off the counter and sauntered closer, her fingers idly toying with one of her braids. "C'mon, white hair, golden eyes? You'd look like a goddess of death or something. Why hide it under all that blue?"

Aviva turned to face her, setting the brush down with a soft clink. "I don't hide anything," she said, her voice steady but quiet. "This is just... me."
Jinx tilted her head, stepping even closer, her grin sharp but her eyes softer. "You sure? 'Cause I think you're hiding a lot, Viva. Maybe even from yourself."

Aviva's gaze didn't waver, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "Why do you care so much about my hair? Your hair is blue as well" "Because it's you," Jinx said simply, reaching out to gently tug at a still-white strand. Her fingers brushed Aviva's cheek for just a moment before she let the hair fall. "And because I like things that are real. Even when they're messy."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room felt smaller, the air heavier, as Aviva studied Jinx's expression. There was something teasing there, sure, but something genuine too, hidden just beneath the surface.

Aviva broke the silence first, her voice quieter than before. "Maybe I don't need to know why I do it. Maybe it's enough that I choose to keep doing it."

Jinx's grin returned, a little softer now. "Fair enough," she said, stepping back toward the counter. "But just so you know, white or blue, you're still my favorite weirdo." Aviva snorted softly, shaking her head as she turned back to the mirror.

"Good to know, Jinx." As she dipped the brush back into the dye, Jinx leaned back on the counter, watching her with a look that was half amusement, half something else entirely. She didn't say anything else, but she didn't leave either, staying there in the silence, keeping Aviva company while she finished her ritual.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒!

I have a couple filler chapters backed up because I'm too busy at the moment to write plot so would you prefer to have chapters that further the plot but you have to wait til Saturday night/ Sunday morning for the next chapter or continue with daily update but 2/3 or 3/3 will likely be filler? I know you guys hate responding but I thought I might as well ask since this book is semi slow burn.

Depending on how I pace myself tomorrow this may not even matter since I did want to try my hardest to complete season 1 before Act 3 came out.

Not proofread.