VIOLET NEVER FELT so weak as she did that night, huddled in a narrow, piss-stinking passageway deep in Zaun’s guts. Her arms, thick with muscle, trembled as she leaned back against a grimy brick wall slick with damp. Blood trickled from her split nose, dripping down to stain the collar of her half-shredded jacket... one more bloodstain wouldn't make a difference anyway.

She was a goddamn mess at that point — cracked ribs, knuckles raw, rage spent on Sevika and her filthy mouth running on about Powder... or Jinx. Fuck, Vi didn’t even know who her sister was anymore.

Silco had stolen every damn reason she still had to breathe. If she couldn’t save her sister, then what the hell was left for her in this rotten city?!

The alley flickered darker for a second; a shadow blotting out her field of vision. Vi lifted her chin and narrowed her blue eyes in an attempt to see whatever was there.

It was a girl. Her pretty face and upturned nose gave her away as a Piltie. Of course it had to be a Piltie.

She could’ve spat an insult, barked a threat, maybe even swung first to make that girl piss off, but she didn’t have shit left in the tank for bravado. All she could do was curl her split lip into a half-snarl and let her shoulders shake while her lungs fought for air.

"Got nothin’ better to do than gawk, huh?" she rasped, voice hoarse from yelling and blood clogging her throat. "Ain’t like you never seen a washed-up brawler before... Can’t a girl catch her fuckin’ breath in this shithole without bein’ stared at?"