Chapter Text
The night was quiet.
Not silent.
Zaun was never silent.
Somewhere, water dripped through old pipes. Ancient machines still labored at this hour. Metal groaned. Pipes hummed. The Undercity kept living, even while most people slept.
Hidden deep beneath the streets lay the Firelights' hideout.
And at its center stood the tree.
Its glowing leaves bathed the vast cavern in soft colors. Lamps hung between its branches. Platforms connected the different levels of the hideout. Beneath its roots slept people fighting for a better future.
People who hoped.
People who kept going.
People who believed in tomorrow.
People like Ekko.
At least, he tried to be.
High among the branches, he sat alone on a small platform.
An open pocket watch rested before him.
Tools lay beside it.
A screw.
Two gears.
A piece of wire.
He hadn't touched any of them for several minutes.
Instead, he stared into the darkness.
The screwdriver hung loosely between his fingers.
Unused.
Eventually, he lowered it.
A quiet sigh escaped him.
Once again.
Sleep had become difficult.
Not impossible.
Just difficult.
Whenever he slept, he dreamed.
And whenever he dreamed, he saw her.
Sometimes Powder.
Sometimes Jinx.
Usually both at once.
Ekko leaned his head back against the trunk behind him.
Eyes closed.
A mistake.
The memories came immediately.
Blue hair.
A crooked grin.
Paint-stained hands.
Those pink eyes.
Those unmistakable eyes.
And that laugh.
That damn laugh.
He opened his eyes again.
Too late.
The memory was already there.
Ekko: "I miss you."
The words left his mouth before he could think about them.
No one heard them.
No one except him.
Maybe that was for the best.
The leader of the Firelights shouldn't be sitting alone in a tree in the middle of the night, talking to ghosts.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Ekko: "You'd probably laugh at me."
In his mind, he could already hear her response.
"Probably?"
The smile faded.
Silence.
Months.
Months had passed.
Months since the explosion.
Months since he believed he had lost her.
And yet, sometimes it felt like it had happened yesterday.
Sometimes even worse.
Because the memories were slowly beginning to blur.
And that was what terrified him.
Not the pain.
Not the grief.
But the thought that one day he might no longer remember her clearly.
Ekko shook the thought away.
He picked up the watch.
Tried to focus on his work.
A few minutes later, he gave up.
Nothing would get done tonight.
---
The next morning, he was awake before sunrise.
Or rather:
He had never really slept.
The first Firelights were beginning their day while Ekko was already working.
He helped with repairs.
Organized deliveries.
Checked supplies.
Discussed patrol routes.
Settled disputes.
As always.
No one would have guessed anything was wrong.
At least, not at first glance.
Scar: "You should take a break."
Ekko looked up.
Scar stood in front of him.
Arms crossed.
The older Firelight studied him carefully.
Ekko: "I take breaks."
Scar raised an eyebrow.
Scar: "When?"
Ekko: "Regularly."
Scar: "Liar."
Ekko: "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Scar snorted.
Scar: "You look terrible."
Ekko: "You're a real motivational speaker."
Scar: "And you need sleep."
Ekko: "I sleep."
Scar: "Two hours a night doesn't count."
Ekko rolled his eyes.
Ekko: "Are you a doctor now?"
Scar: "No."
Ekko: "Good."
Scar: "I just happen to have eyes."
Against his will, Ekko smirked.
Scar noticed immediately.
But a moment later, his expression grew serious.
Scar: "You don't have to carry everything alone."
The smirk vanished.
Of course Scar knew what this was about.
Everyone knew.
No one said her name very often.
But everyone knew who Scar meant.
Ekko lowered his gaze to the map in front of him.
Ekko: "I'm fine."
Scar didn't answer.
That only made it worse.
Because they both knew it wasn't true.
---
The day passed.
Then another.
Then another.
The routine barely changed.
Work.
Planning.
Firelights.
Patrols.
More work.
And every night, the same thoughts.
Every single time.
Without exception.
---
On the third day, Ekko was helping some of the younger Firelights repair small windmills.
The children sat around him.
Tools were scattered across the floor.
One of the boys suddenly looked up.
Boy: "Ekko?"
Ekko: "Hm?"
Boy: "Was Jinx really as crazy as everyone says?"
The room fell silent immediately.
Some of the children looked at him curiously.
Others looked away awkwardly.
Ekko froze in the middle of his movement.
For a moment, he didn't know what to say.
Eventually, he set the wrench aside.
Ekko: "Sometimes."
The boy frowned.
Boy: "And sometimes not?"
A long silence followed.
Ekko looked at the half-finished windmill.
Then he smiled sadly.
Ekko: "And sometimes she was just Powder."
The children didn't really understand what that meant.
But they could tell the question had touched something painful.
So they changed the subject.
Ekko was grateful for that.
---
On the fourth evening, he sat alone on his platform again.
Most of the Firelights were already asleep.
Only a few lamps still burned.
Slowly, he reached for his bag.
Hesitated.
Then pulled out a worn notebook.
The cover was damaged.
The pages looked used.
Very used.
Carefully, he opened it.
The first pages contained blueprints.
Sketches.
Calculations.
Then came the other drawings.
A little girl.
Short blue hair.
A wide grin.
Powder.
Several pages later.
Longer hair.
Blue braids.
Pink eyes.
Jinx.
Another drawing.
And another.
And another.
Hundreds.
Some showed memories.
Others only her face.
Or her eyes.
Or her smile.
Ekko gently ran a hand over one page.
He couldn't remember exactly when he had started.
Probably shortly after her death.
Or maybe a little later.
He only remembered why.
Because the fear had eventually become stronger.
The fear of losing details.
The fear that memories would fade.
So he had started drawing.
Again and again.
The same eyes.
The same features.
As if he could hold on to her that way.
As if he could stop her from disappearing.
Ekko: "Stupid."
And yet he kept turning the pages.
Long past midnight.
---
The next few days were much the same.
Too much the same.
Too quiet.
Too empty.
And then everything changed.
---
It was night again.
Ekko sat high in the tree once more.
The watch from a few days ago still lay before him.
This time, he was actually working on it.
At least for a few minutes.
Then he heard footsteps.
Someone climbed up onto the platform.
A young Firelight appeared.
Firelight: "Ekko?"
Ekko: "Hm?"
Firelight: "You have a visitor."
Ekko looked up.
Ekko: "A visitor?"
Firelight: "Yeah."
Ekko: "At this hour?"
Ekko: "Who is it?"
The boy shrugged.
Firelight: "A woman from Piltover."
Ekko immediately frowned.
Ekko: "Name?"
Firelight: "Caitlyn Kiramman."
Now he was genuinely surprised.
Ekko: "Caitlyn?"
Firelight: "She says it's important."
Ekko set down his tools.
Caitlyn didn't come without a reason.
Especially not in the middle of the night.
Ekko: "Is she alone?"
Firelight: "Yeah."
Ekko: "How long has she been waiting?"
Firelight: "Not long."
Ekko nodded slowly.
An uneasy feeling spread through his stomach.
Not fear.
Not exactly.
But something felt strange.
Ekko: "Thanks."
The Firelight nodded and disappeared.
Ekko remained seated for another moment.
Then he stood.
Put the notebook away.
Closed his bag.
And leapt from platform to platform.
Silent.
Practiced.
Within moments, he reached the ground.
Several Firelights were still awake.
Watching the visitor from a distance.
Caitlyn stood near one of the tree's roots.
When she noticed him, she looked up.
Caitlyn: "Ekko."
Ekko: "Caitlyn."
She looked exhausted.
And unusually tense.
That alone was enough to make him alert.
Ekko: "Is everything alright?"
Caitlyn didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she reached into her coat.
Pulled out a small object.
A damaged piece of metal.
Burned.
Scratched.
She placed it between them.
Ekko studied it for several seconds.
Then he recognized it.
A component.
From a bomb.
Slowly, he looked up.
Ekko: "What is this?"
Caitlyn met his gaze.
Very serious.
Caitlyn: "Something you need to see."
Ekko felt his stomach tighten.
Ekko: "Why?"
For a moment, she remained silent.
Then she said:
Caitlyn: "Because I think we overlooked something during the investigation of the explosion."
Ekko froze.
And for the first time in months, he felt something other than grief.
Something dangerous.
Something he had long believed was gone.
Hope.