Chapter Text
The soft, faint glow of the sun crept over the horizon of the tall buildings of Piltover, or at least, what was left of it. The morning light illuminated the dark corners of Ekko's sleeping face. It tickled beneath his eyelashes until, groggily, he pushed himself upright. His back pressed against the cold wall of a rooftop, the city quiet in a way that didn't feel real after everything that had happened.
Ekko didn't remember falling asleep.
Probably too tired to even move. The last thing Ekko could recall was the light glow of the slip of paper with Jinx's name burning between his fingers. The white facial paint was smeared, dust and tear stains sticking to his dark cheeks.
He hadn't watched the paper turn to ash.
He couldn't. Too many names would follow hers. Friends. Firelights. People from the Lanes.
Now the city was quiet.
But that's what makes death the wickedest thing, doesn't it? It feels like it's tearing you apart from the inside out, knowing that these familiar faces will burn into the memories of those who survived, leaving them nothing but the disgusting dark guilt. It's cruel. And the cruelest thing of all is that life, seemingly, had a schedule. Some have no choice but to fall in line with this schedule.
One of those is Ekko.
Ekko kicked his hoverboard to life, wincing at the sputter and hum as it broke the silence. He'll have to fix it later. He pushed off the rooftop and cut through the morning air. Piltover stretched beneath him–scarred, smoking, and far too quiet. Faintly, he can see what appear to be enforcers helping out survivors, heaving rubble from walking paths and roads. The sight almost makes him want to scoff; these same people who hunt down Zaunites like they're animals are now helping out survivors. The irony almost makes him want to laugh.
"Ekko!"
He snaps out of his bitter trance from the call of his name, looking over to see Vi waving her arms around near a broken-up fountain in the middle of the city. Ekko angled his hoverboard downward, landing beside Vi with a soft scrape of metal on stone. He only noticed Caitlyn standing a few steps behind her once the board's hum died away.
"You look like shit," she said
Ekko snorted, "Feel like it too."
Vi looked tired, More than usual. His heart weakened at the sight of Vi's puffy eyes and the sound of her croaky voice as she spoke. He couldn't even begin to imagine her sorrow. "People are gathering in the Lanes in a couple of days." Vi kicks a piece of rubble aside.
Ekko tilted his head, "For?"
Vi shrugged, but her shoulders looked heavier than usual, like a burdensome cloud was weighing her down to the Earth.
"Just a little memorial."
Caitlyn cleared her throat and Ekko finally turned his attention towards her. "I suggested sending a team of enforcers to excavate the area before anything was disturbed," she said. "But Vi thought it would be better to speak with you first."
Ekko blinked. His nose scrunches up at the ridiculous idea. It was almost impressive how blind topsiders could be. "You were gonna send enforcers into the Undercity?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose, almost appalled at the idea. "Yeah, because that usually ends well."
The idea almost makes him want to laugh. Enforcers digging through Zaun, like they hadn't taken enough from it.
"Relax," Vi intervened, cutting through the icy tension between the two. "That's why we're here instead." She inhaled deeply, pushing back fallen strands of her hair. "Before anyone goes poking around her place… we figured you should grab what matters."
He stays quiet for a moment, looking off towards the side as if in thought—her place. The words settled in his chest like a stone; he hadn't been back there. Not since the night everything fell apart. He could still picture it—paint on the walls, wires everywhere, and that stupid monkey bomb sitting on the workbench.
Ekko exhaled slowly. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I'll go."
Vi nodded once. For a second, it looked like she wanted to say something else. Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Ekko froze in surprise, arms hanging loosely at his sides. Her grip tightened around his shoulders. She smelled faintly of smoke and metal dust.
For a second, he felt like a kid again, like the world hadn't gone completely wrong. He was ten again, sitting on the cracked floor of Benzo's shop with a busted lip and tears burning in his eyes. Vi had crouched in front of him, wrapping him in a hug that smelled like grease and metal dust. "Relax, Little Man," she'd said, ruffling his hair while showing off an old scar over her knee. "You're one of us now."
The memory vanished as soon as it came. Vi squeezed his shoulder before pulling back slightly. "You know we love you, right, Little Man?" she said softly.
"Yeah, yeah."
A small smirk tugged at her mouth. "Be careful down there," she said.
"Always am." Ekko stepped onto his hoverboard and kicked it to life. The familiar hum filled the quiet street. The board lifted off the ground and shot forward.
Piltover stretched beneath him — scaffolding climbing broken buildings, workers clearing rubble from streets that still smelled faintly of smoke. Even in its damaged state, the city still looked polished. Workers in bright uniforms moved through the streets below, clearing rubble and repairing broken railings.
Piltover always knew how to make its scars look tidy. The deeper he went, the more familiar the air became. Rust. Oil. Heat.
Zaun's neonish lights blurred beneath him, layered with metal walkways and crooked rooftops. Pipes snaked through the streets like steel roots, coughing out clouds of greenish steam. Neon lights flickered stubbornly against the gloom. It was loud. Messy.
Some buildings are still blackened from the fighting. A collapsed bridge hung crooked between two towers of scrap metal. But people were already rebuilding, of course, they were, because who else was going to do it? Certainly not Piltover. Kids darted through the alleys below, chasing each other as if nothing had changed.
He spotted the old market where he used to trade scrap for tools. The noodle stall on the corner was still there too, steam rising from its crooked chimney. The memories of his home made his heart ache; maybe saving the world didn't save him, but he was glad he could save those who didn't have a chance at a future. Ekko skimmed low over the rooftops of Zaun, the hum of his hoverboard blending with the clatter of pipes and distant machinery. Steam curled up from rusted vents, and neon lights flickered stubbornly against the green haze that hung over the streets.
This part of the Undercity had always felt like home. The deeper he flew into the district, the quieter it became. On the sidelines, he could see a group of people aligning candles on the streets, his heart throbbing at each one.
Fewer lights. Fewer voices. He passed the old pipe bridge where Powder used to dare him to race across without falling. Back when the biggest danger in their lives was scraped knees and Benzo yelling at them to slow down, or having to fight off idiot bullies who picked on them.
The entrance to the hideout finally came into view between two crooked scrap-metal towers. Ekko slowed the hoverboard and strapped it to his back. For a second, he considered turning around. Maybe come up with a lie to Vi that the enforcers got there before he did, or that it got totaled during the battle.
But he couldn't. This is the least he could do for her.
The place looked the same. Like she might step out at any moment with that crooked grin and a new bomb in her hand. The door groaned when Ekko pushed it open. For a moment, he just stood there on the threshold.
The hideout was quiet. Too quiet. And it felt wrong.
Paint splattered the walls in streaks of blue and pink. Half-finished gadgets littered the workbench, wires spilling over the edges like tangled vines. A cracked monkey bomb sat in the corner beside a pile of scrap metal.
On the wall, half-covered by newer paint, was an old drawing. A girl with blue braids, with a boy with white, short, curly hair and goggles.
Ekko stared at it longer than he meant to.
He moved slowly through the hideout, brushing dust off the workbench. Tools, wires, half-finished bombs—the usual chaos Jinx left behind. He picked up a small metal gadget, turning it over in his hands. One of her early monkey bombs. The paint chipped, but the grin was still there. He stuffed the gadget into the pouch hooked on his waist.
Something else caught his eye near the back of the workbench. A small device sat half-buried beneath a pile of scrap and wrinkled papers, built around a cracked hextech crystal, with wires spiraling outward into an unfinished metal frame.
Ekko frowned.
"What in the…" He brushed the dust off and examined the wiring. It wasn't like the usual gadgets she made. There wasn't even a trace of pink paint on the thing. Too precise. Too deliberate. Could it be something Silco made her do? Ekko turned the device in his hands and nudged one of the switches.
The crystal flickered. A faint hum filled the room. The air around the device warped slightly. "Okay… that's new." Ekko breathed, suddenly wincing and dropping the thing from the extreme heat it emitted. Suddenly, light bursts from the invention, flooding the hideout with a sharp blue glow. Ekko stumbled back as the air in front of him twisted and folded in on itself, eyes doubling as he scrambled. Grabbing the nearest wrench off the workbench.
A circular tear opened in the air, swirling like liquid glass. Something shot out of the portal.
Ekko barely had time to react before a body crashed onto the metal floor. The portal slowly sealed shut as the device closed in on itself, and the lights had died down.
Whatever just came out of that thing definitely wasn't supposed to be here.
For a moment, all Ekko saw was a mess of dark locs and torn fabric. The stranger's clothes looked pieced together from scraps — worn leather, patched cloth, clunky metal jangling at his belt.
Ekko felt his pulse thudding in his ears, every muscle in his body locking up as his brain scrambled, trying to piece together what the hell was going on. His mind was already racing through possibilities. Was this some trap set by the enforcers? Some sick shimmer experiment Silco made? Or something worse?
And before he could even come up with some sort of rational explanation to keep his sanity in check, the figure shifted on the floor.
Ekko's grip tightened around the wrench before he even realized it. The metal wrench felt heavier in his hand than it should have. He raised the wrench slightly, ready to swing if the stranger made one wrong move.
When the stranger lifted his head, Ekko's stomach tightened. Every instinct Ekko had screamed that something about this was wrong.
The stranger sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He moved easily despite the rough landing, unfolding to his full height with a loose, almost careless grace. "…Huh." The stranger couldn't be older than Ekko, maybe even younger, "Either I hit my head really hard… or I'm trippin' bad." The stranger blinked slowly, taking in the paint-covered walls and piles of scrap. He tapped on the red collar-looking necklace, clicking his tongue. "Looks like 'm stranded."
When the stranger finally looked at him, his eyes were sharp—too sharp. The stranger glanced at the wrench in Ekko's hand and grinned slightly. "You always greet guests like that?"
Ekko didn't lower the wrench. "H-how did you get in here?" he questioned, "And don't say you 'fell out of the sky.'"
The stranger scoffed, eyes flicking to the glowing hextech device, still humming on the table, then back down at his rings, pulsing in time with the device's glow. Explains why they've been acting up lately.
"Well, Mr. Hostile, that's kinda what just fuckin' happened."
Ekko's eyebrow twitched. Smartass. He probably should've just opted out when he had the chance. He kept the wrench pointed at the stranger, locking eyes with him as he slowly stood up. Ekko lifted the wrench a little higher.
"Start talking."
The dread-headed stranger scratched the back of his neck, almost irritated, "About what?"
"About how you just fell out of a hole through the damn wall."
Again, he just shrugged like this was just a normal day for him. Seriously, who is this guy? Not only that, but his clothes look nothing like a topsider or a Zaunite. And it's not like Ekko can just call Vi and her little girlfriend to handle it; he still has to gather some of the belongings before the enforcers tear this place apart. Even if she's dead, they'll see her as a criminal before anything.
His plate was already full from saving the world; now he has to deal with random guys coming out of portals? This is bullshit.
"You from Piltover?"
The stranger snorted, "The fuck is that?"
Ekko studied him further, several rings wrapped around the stranger's fingers, dull metal glinting faintly in the dim light. And the crooked smile tugging at his mouth didn't make Ekko feel any better about the situation.
"Undercity?"
He seemed genuinely confused by the word, tilting his head to the side as his locs swayed in rhythm. Staring at him like he was speaking in tongues, "Who the hell calls the Ground 'Undercity'?"
So if he's not a Zaunite or a topside, where does this guy come from?? Space? If that were true, Ekko is frankly underwhelmed and disappointed by what he's seeing.
"Are you–"
"Yo." Ekko almost flinched at the sudden bass in the other's voice, the agitation creeping in the single word. The stranger itched the back of his neck, grumbling something. "All these damn questions. Look, I just fell out of a portal, I get a wrench pointed at me the second I fall in, and now I get some… shrimp interrogating me."
Abruptly, a pink glow warps around the rings. A hot-pink energy crawled across his arm like liquid metal, twisting and folding until a jagged weapon formed in his grip. "Plus," the stranger said, rolling his shoulders, "I'd rather answer with my hands instead."
A deafening silence rose between them. And it seemed like he didn't have a lot of options; if he were to fight this psycho, some of Jinx's belongings might be damaged, and if he were to run, who knows what this guy might do? Seems like it's all up to him again.