Chapter Text
"What the hell... why is everything so—ugh, peaceful and bright?"
Jinx's voice rang out, a blend of frustration and dramatic disdain as she gagged, clutching her chest like she'd been personally offended by the tranquility around her.
Perched precariously on a brick wall, she teetered with childlike ease, her balance perfect despite the erratic way she swayed from side to side. Besides her, Isha tried to mimic the balancing act, her smaller frame wobbling precariously but managing to stay upright. Both girls broke into a fit of giggles, their laughter echoing through the eerily serene streets.
The group had managed to slip through the undercity undetected—at least, as far as they could tell. But as they moved deeper toward what should have been the heart of Zaun, unease settled heavily in their chests. The further they ventured, the more out of place they felt. This wasn't their undercity, and every step hammered that truth home with painful clarity.
Familiar landmarks dotted the landscape—buildings they'd navigated countless times, alleys they'd ducked into to avoid enforcers or rival gangs—but everything was... wrong. Or rather, different. Improved, almost unsettlingly so.
The neon hues of artificial lighting that typically bathed the undercity in a garish glow were absent. Instead, natural sunlight streamed down, unhindered by the oppressive smog that usually choked the skies above. It wasn't perfect—Zaun had never been perfect—but the changes were stark. The air was cleaner, less oppressive. The narrow streets felt less suffocating, the structures less battered by years of neglect and corrosion. Even the usual cacophony of the undercity—the shouting, the clatter of metal, the ever-present hum of chaos—was strangely muted.
"Where's all the fun gone?" Jinx muttered, twisting her body around to peer over the cityscape. Her wide eyes darted from one oddly tranquil scene to the next. A few kids were playing in the street without a care, and there were only one or two fights breaking out in the distance—not the standard all-out brawls that usually marked Zaun's afternoons.
Vi scowled as she leaned against a nearby wall, her eyes scanning their surroundings with suspicion. "This doesn't feel right," she said, her voice low and wary. "It's too quiet."
Caitlyn nodded, her sharp gaze lingering on a group of civilians chatting calmly in the distance. "This place... it's cleaner, more organised. Even the people..." She gestured subtly toward the pedestrians who passed by without so much as a suspicious glance. "They seem happier. Safer. It's like a completely different city."
"And yet it's still Zaun," Vi added, her voice heavy with disbelief. "But it's not our Zaun. This... isn't possible."
"Clearly it is, because here we are," Jinx quipped, hopping down from her perch with a dramatic flourish. "If this is a joke, someone really screwed up the punchline." She turned to Isha, who signed something rapidly before flashing Jinx an exaggerated pout.
"Exactly!" Jinx said, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "She gets it. Where's all the grime? The fights? The lovely smell of industrial waste in the air?"
Vander, towering and silent, trailed just behind the group. His mismatched eyes flicked from shadow to shadow, his massive frame tense despite the apparent calm of their surroundings. His silence spoke volumes—while the others voiced their unease, Vander's instinct to protect them from the unknown was at full throttle as he sniffed the air, his pointed ears flickering back and forth every so often.
Giggling alongside her smaller counterpart, Jinx cheerfully bumped her fist against the little girl's, then effortlessly swung her down to the ground with a playful spin. The two worked in a kind of unspoken, chaotic harmony, their laughter ringing out as a stark contrast to the quiet tension lingering in the group. From a distance, Vi watched them, a twinge of something she couldn't quite name stirring in her chest. Jealousy? Maybe. Envy of the bond Jinx seemed to form so easily? Probably. Either way, it gnawed at her as she stood apart from them.
Turning away, Vi let out a frustrated huff and started walking down another unfamiliar backstreet. The undercity's intricate maze of streets stretched before them, but it was no longer the place she remembered. Beside her, Caitlyn fell into step, her sharp eyes scanning their surroundings for any sign of trouble—or answers. She nudged Vi lightly, breaking the silence.
"You okay, Vi?" she asked gently, her voice laced with genuine concern.
Vi's expression tightened as she shrugged. "Mm? Oh—yeah, sure thing, Cupcake. Just trying to figure out how the hell we got into this mess... and how we're supposed to get out of it."
Caitlyn raised a skeptical brow but decided not to press further. Their relationship had been strained lately, and she wasn't keen on pushing too hard. Still, the doubt lingering in her mind wouldn't let her stay silent completely. After a pause, she offered a soft but firm response.
"We'll figure this out, Vi. It'll just... take time," she said, her voice steady. "And where exactly are we going?"
Vi slowed her pace, running a hand through her hair as she let out a low groan. "Hell if I know," she admitted. "I just figure going higher's a good start. Get a better look at this place, maybe spot something useful. Anything's better than wandering around blind."
Caitlyn nodded thoughtfully. "Higher makes sense. But let's stay cautious. I don't think we've seen everything this place has to offer yet."
From behind them, Jinx's voice interrupted their conversation, loud and brimming with mischief. "Oi, you two planning a wedding back there, or are we actually gonna move?" she called out, her grin as wide as ever. She spun on her heel, dragging her smaller companion along as if the two were tied together.
Eventually, the group managed to ascend to higher ground. They stood on a wide, sturdy ledge overlooking the sprawl of the city below. No one spoke at first, the sight before them striking them into an awed, uncomfortable silence. They could see the entire city from this vantage point, and it was unlike anything they had ever known.
The sun hung high in the sky, bathing both the undercity and Piltover in its warm glow. Gone were the oppressive shadows cast by towering industrial monoliths. In their place, sunlight touched the rooftops and streets with surprising ease, illuminating a place that seemed... harmonious. It was an unfamiliar kind of beauty, and it left the group uneasy.
It was, unsurprisingly, Jinx who broke the silence. Perched on the edge of a railing like an excitable bird, she threw her hands up in exasperation. "So... we can all agree this is definitely not our world, right? Because either we got thrown into some alternate universe, or we're tripping hard—like, 'we accidentally ate some funky ass mushrooms' hard."
Her blunt words broke the tension, though they didn't lessen the confusion.
Vi shot her a look, but for once, didn't have a sharp retort. She crossed her arms and stared out at the horizon. "Yeah," she muttered reluctantly. "Something's off. This... ain't home."
The changes were undeniable. The most glaring difference was the skyline. The iconic hexgates, central to Piltover since the advent of Hextech, were conspicuously absent. Airships and blimps, once so abundant they clogged the skies, now appeared far fewer, lazily drifting like stray clouds.
But what struck them most was the harmony. The undercity no longer stood as a harsh contrast to Piltover. From their vantage point, it looked lighter, more open, and almost... inviting. The buildings were less dense, the chaotic, haphazard layout of the lanes replaced with a structure that suggested care and intention.
Caitlyn stepped closer to the edge, her sharp eyes scanning the bridge in the distance—a once-iconic symbol of the divide between topside and the undercity. Now, it was transformed. Instead of stark division, the bridge appeared to be a bustling hub of activity. She could see people mingling freely among small structures and stalls, likely makeshift shops and marketplaces. There was movement, laughter, and life—far removed from the tension and hostility she remembered.
Jinx clapped her hands loudly, her voice cutting through the tension and drawing everyone's attention. "So, what's the plan? Just... join the peace parade? Maybe grab a drink and hug it out with the first stranger we meet?"
Vi let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Jinx, not now."
Jinx raised her hands in mock innocence. "Whaaat? What else are we supposed to do? From what I can tell, we're—" She looked down at Isha, then leaned in, covering the side of her mouth as if sharing a secret. "—fucked."
Caitlyn, sitting on a nearby crate with her arms crossed, shook her head, her expression more serious. "She's not wrong," she said, her tone more measured. "Without Hextech, without the technology we're used to... we might not be able to get home. Not easily, at least."
The group fell silent, the weight of Caitlyn's words sinking in. No one knew how to process it. Their usual resources, their usual way of solving problems, were gone. The Hexgates, the tech they had relied on—none of it was available in this unfamiliar world.
Vi broke the silence, her voice gritty with frustration. "Great. So, we're stuck. No magic portal, no Hextech... nothing but a bunch of questions and a city that looks like it's been dipped in candy coating."
Jinx let out a mock gasp. "Candy coating? I think you're underestimating it. This place has potential for chaos, I can feel it! Come on, Vi, don't tell me you're going soft on me now."
Vi shot Jinx a glare but didn't respond. Instead, she turned her focus back to the surroundings, as if trying to make sense of the unfamiliar city in front of them.
Caitlyn, more composed than the rest, stood up and dusted off her clothes. "We can't afford to waste time bickering. We need to figure out what's really going on here. We need to learn about this world. Who's in charge? What's changed? If there's any chance of getting home, we need information—and we need it fast."
Jinx smirked, already moving toward the edge of the alleyway, her energy bouncing back. "Right, information gathering! Sounds like a blast. Let's find out who runs this place and start making some noise, yeah?"
Vi rubbed her temples, trying to suppress the growing headache. "Fine. But no chaos yet. We need a plan—let's stick to the shadows for now. We're not exactly in a position to draw attention."
"I don't do shadows," Jinx replied with a shrug, her mischievous grin never fading. "But I'll play along. For now."
"Keep it low, Jinx," Caitlyn said firmly. "We can't afford to make enemies right away. We need to keep our options open."
────୨ৎ────
Focused on rolling the pen between his fingers, Ekko's gaze drifted over the schematics filling the pages of his notebook. The familiar, comforting scratch of ink on paper was a small anchor in the chaos that had become his life since he'd been thrown into this alternate universe a few weeks ago. He ambled down the street towards the Last Drop, lost in thought, the rhythmic scratching of the pen soothing him as much as his current reality allowed- focused on trying to get home.
The weight of the situation hit him more often than he'd like to admit. There were days when he could almost convince himself that this strange, twisted version of his life wasn't so bad- because it wasn't. The young inventor competition he was tasked with trying to win alongside.... powder—under the guise of another Ekko, the one from this world—had kept him busy, distracted. But it wasn't enough. Every time he considered focusing on the task at hand, which was completing his Z-Drive to get back home, his mind wandered to the strange dissonance between the world he'd left and the one he now inhabited.
The competition was a joke. He was playing a part, pretending to be this universe's Ekko, whose identity felt as foreign to him as the streets he walked. The world he'd been thrust into didn't line up with his memories of the one he came from. Even the most mundane of details seemed wrong—familiar faces in unfamiliar places, technologies that should have been at the cutting edge but seemed stagnant, and people who didn't act quite like the ones he remembered. He was a stranger here.
It had been easier said than done to slip into this version of Ekko's life. At first, the physical shocks alone—the strange sense of unfamiliarity with his own body—had been enough to keep him off balance. His reflexes felt wrong, his muscles didn't quite remember the way he moved, and the adjustments to his speech, his mannerisms, had felt like wearing someone else's skin. The hardest part, though, was the emotional distance. This Ekko had different connections, a different history, and Ekko, for all his resourcefulness, found it hard to find his footing. The world didn't fit him—not in the way he expected—and that uncertainty gnawed at him.
But he couldn't afford to be distracted. The Z-Drive was his ticket home, and every day that passed brought him closer to figuring out how to complete it—and further away from the life he once knew. Yet the longer he spent here, the more the line between playing this role and just becoming it seemed to blur. He wasn't sure if it was a side effect of the whole situation, or just the nature of living in someone else's shoes, but Ekko was starting to feel like he wasn't just pretending anymore. The longer he stayed, the more real this world felt.
A deep sigh escaped Ekko as he looked up from the notebook, the distant hum of the bustling streets and the lively chatter of pedestrians filtering through the air. The familiar sounds of the bar nearby, which he had grown accustomed to in the short time since his arrival, did little to ease the gnawing feeling in his chest. He was starting to feel like a spectator in his own life, unable to make a clear decision about what to prioritise. Was he still trying to get back to his own world? Or was this one already starting to claim him, piece by piece, in ways he wasn't fully prepared to face?
With a shake of his head, Ekko slipped the notebook into his jacket and steeled himself to push forward. He needed to focus. He had no time for distractions. The Last Drop was just ahead—his, or this Ekko's, usual spot, where he could clear his mind, plot his next move, and figure out what to do next. But as he took a few more steps, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.
A flicker of blue, almost too fast to catch. Instinctively, his eyes snapped to the source, and there it was—a blur of long, flowing blue hair disappearing into the shadows of a nearby alley. It was a movement that shouldn't have stood out, especially in a place like this. The people here weren't as jittery, not as quick to suspect danger as the residents of his own undercity. But for some reason, this felt different. There was something about the way the figure moved that stirred a deep, instinctual pull within him.
For a moment, Ekko hesitated. Normally, he would have brushed it off—maybe even been content to continue on his way. But a strange tug at the back of his mind told him otherwise. He recognised that hair. That colour, that style—it was too familiar, too much like... her. The thought struck him hard, as if something had clicked into place in his brain. He couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't just a random stranger--
A brief flash of doubt passed through him. Was it possible? Was it her? Could this place somehow pull people across universes without the need to inhabit your counterparts body? The possibility seemed ridiculous-- given he himself was experiencing it first hand, but he couldn't ignore the sensation in his gut—the nagging urge to follow, to investigate further.
He shook his head, pushing aside any lingering hesitation. There was no harm in checking. If it wasn't her, then it was just another strange occurrence in a world full of them. But if it was...
His steps quickened as he approached the alley, carefully weaving through the crowd without drawing attention. He wasn't sure why he felt so strongly about this, but something about the situation had his heart racing. Maybe it was the desire to find something familiar in this alien place, or perhaps it was the possibility of connecting with someone from his world. Either way, Ekko couldn't let it go. Not yet.
The alley was quiet, shadowed, a contrast to the busy streets just a few paces away. He leaned against the corner, peeking around carefully, eyes scanning for any sign of movement. The blue hair, the figure, was nowhere to be seen. His heart skipped a beat. Had he imagined it?
But then, a soft rustle of fabric drew his attention, and there she was, standing just a few feet away—familiar blue braids cascading down her back, far longer and more vibrant than the powder of this universe. Her face was turned slightly away from him, but Ekko could already tell. There was no mistaking the silhouette, the posture. It was her, unmistakable, even in this strange, unfamiliar version of the world.
He barely registered the shock flooding through his body before the words spilled out, almost without thought.
"Jinx?"
The girl in question was quick to snap around at the sound of her name, eyes widening in disbelief. For a moment, the two simply stared at each other, an electric tension hanging between them. Jinx's bright violet eyes roamed over him, taking in the version of Ekko she hadn't seen before—familiar, but so different, healthier...
'What- How are you here?'
Ekko couldn't help but note the stark differences between this Jinx and the one he knew from this universe. In this universe, Powder was so much Healthier, she had more flesh on her face, a slight roundness to her cheeks that he hadn't seen before. She was fuller, more robust. He could see that clearly now how different the two experienced life- this universes version of Jinx.. or powder had been treated better—fed, cared for, nurtured in ways the Jinx he saw before him hadn't been.
Her skin, too, was different. In his world, Jinx had pale, often sickly looking skin, marked with the visible tolls of a life lived in the shadows of Zaun. Here, though, Powder's skin had a warmer tone, more life in it. No longer the sickly pale he remembered, she carried a healthier hue, almost like she had spent time under the sun—something he couldn't imagine in the world they came from. The tattoos that covering Jinx arms and collarbones only added to the striking difference. In this world, Powder hadn't bothered to cover her body with ink; But this Jinx wore it proudly, as though each design told a part of her story, of the hardships she faced.
"Ekko? What the..." she trailed off, her voice laced with disbelief.'
Before he could respond, a small head peeked from behind Jinx's legs, a comically oversized tin hat perched precariously on her head. Isha's large amber eyes locked onto Ekko, studying him with a cautious curiosity. Then, from the shadows, more figures emerged—Vi and Caitlyn, their faces a mix of recognition and guarded wariness. And trailing behind them, a hulking figure draped in a makeshift sheet moved with a slow, deliberate gait, the only sound the soft shuffle of their footsteps.
"Little man?!" Vi's voice rang out, an incredulous mixture of relief and disbelief. She took a step forward, arms twitching as if she was seconds away from pulling him into a bear hug. But something held her back—a flicker of caution, or perhaps the weight of the strange circumstances surrounding them.
Ekko blinked, still grappling with the surreal sight. "Vi?" His voice cracked slightly. She looked... different. Her fiery pink-red hair, a hallmark of the Vi he knew, was streaked with inky black. The colour bled from her roots, tapering down to the ends, threatening to smother the vibrancy he remembered. It was her, but it was obvious time had passed in some form or another.
"Is... is that you?" she asked, tilting her head as if trying to reconcile the sight before her. "Did you get—" she hesitated, eyes narrowing in thought before continuing, "—transported here too?"
Ekko took an instinctive step back, his mind racing to make sense of the impossible. "Vi... how? How are you all here?" he managed to ask, his voice thick with disbelief. "I didn't think it was possible for your consciousness to... to not transfer into your alternate bodies. I mean, you wouldn't—"
He trailed off abruptly, the words catching in his throat as a memory surfaced: the shrine. This world's Jinx—or rather, Powder—had created for her Vi. It was small but heartbreakingly meticulous, a tribute to a sister she had lost, a symbol of the rippling change that loss had inspired in their world.
Ekko sighed, the weight of the truth settling over him like a heavy cloak. He knew he couldn't share it—not yet, not here. Revealing the stark differences between their realities surrounding the woman would just cause conflict. Here, Vi's absence had united and spurred people toward a better future. In his world, there had been no such force for change, only survival in the grim shadows of Zaun. Two sides of the same coin, each story unfolding in radically different ways that he kew Vi would blame herself for if she knew.
"Never mind," he said finally, shaking his head as if to dismiss his unfinished thought. "But how did you even get here? Did you find a wild rune?"
"A what?" Vi asked, her brow furrowing.
Caitlyn, ever analytical, tilted her head. "Wild rune?" she echoed, her voice laced with curiosity. "I mean runes are used in hextech from what I know from Jayce, but nothing that could..." She gestured vaguely to the group, her expression skeptical but intrigued
"It's... hard to explain," Ekko began, his voice tinged with hesitation. He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the simplest way to convey the impossibility of their situation. "I'm sorry, but to put it simply—well, I—and now I guess you guys—have somehow crossed timelines into an alternate universe."
He paused, glancing at each of them. Their expressions ranged from disbelief to cautious curiosity. "But again," he continued, his tone firmer, "I have to ask—how did you even get here?"
Before anyone else could answer, Jinx let out a breathy giggle, the sound echoing unnervingly in the stillness. With an unnaturally quick step, she closed the distance between them, her movements unsettlingly fluid. She circled him, her violet eyes glittering with a manic energy that made his skin crawl.
"Hmm, you've changed, Ekko," she purred, her voice taking on a singsong quality that managed to be both playful and unsettling. She spun to his backside, leaning in close enough for him to feel the heat of her breath. "Still so serious, though. Some things never change."
The familiar yet alien tone of her voice sent a shiver down his spine. After spending time with this universe's version of Jinx—Powder, as she preferred to be called—it was jarring to see just how different they were. Jinx and Powder weren't just alternate versions of the same person. They were like two entirely different people, shaped by wildly divergent lives.
Ekko's breath hitched as Jinx twirled back in front of him, her face split into a wide, toothy grin. "Wellll," she began, dragging out the word as she rocked on her heels. "We were at this weird-ass commune, right? Some guy was running it—total cult vibes, you know?" She gestured wildly with her hands, miming an exaggeratedly pompous figure. "Anyway, we were there trying to cure Vander—oh yeah, Vander's alive, by the way. Crazy, right?"
Ekko's eyes widened, and his jaw slackened in sheer disbelief. Vander? Alive?
Oblivious—or perhaps completely unbothered by his reaction—Jinx barreled on, her voice rising with excitement. "So, things were going fine—well, not really fine, 'cause cults are gross—but whatever! Then this dude attacks Blueberry over there." She pointed a thumb over her shoulder at Caitlyn, whose lips twitched in annoyance at the nickname but said nothing. "Obviously, I jumped in to save the day, 'cause I'm awesome like that."
Jinx struck a mock-heroic pose before continuing, her tone turning sing-song again. "Buuut then Vander goes nuts! Like, full-on lava-spewing, monster-mode nuts. He's all like, 'BLUERGHH!'" She mimed an exaggerated explosion, complete with sound effects.
Ekko blinked, dumbfounded.
"And then—get this—this little knucklehead," Jinx jabbed a finger down toward Isha, who was now peeking out nervously from behind the towering shadowed form, "tries to save the day with my hex gun. Can you believe it?!"
Isha's face turned beet red as she shuffled her oversized tin hat lower to hide her embarrassment.
"And then," Jinx continued dramatically, throwing her arms up, "BOOM! My gun explodes! And next thing we know—poof! We're here!" She twirled in place, her arms spread wide as if presenting the grand conclusion of her tale. "That's about it, right, guys?'
She turned back to the group, her grin widening as she awaited their confirmation.
Silence.
Ekko, meanwhile, could only stare, his mouth slightly agape as his brain scrambled to process what he'd just heard. Cults. Vander. Lava-spewing monsters. Exploding guns It was too much, all at once.
He finally managed to close his mouth and clear his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Okay... wait. Let me get this straight," he began slowly, holding up a hand as if to physically stop the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in his head. "You were at some... cult? And Vander—Vander—was alive? And then he went... what, full meltdown mode?"
Jinx clapped her hands together, beaming. "Exactly!" she chirped.
Ekko rubbed his temples, exhaling sharply. "This is insane."
"Welcome to my life!" Jinx said brightly, throwing her hands up as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
He shot her a look, a mix of disbelief and frustration. But behind it all, a tiny flicker of something else stirred in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was hope, curiosity, or dread—but whatever it was, he couldn't deny the reality of their situation.
"Well," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, "at least it explains... some of this."
"But that doesn't explain you," Vi cut in, her sharp tone breaking the brief silence. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped forward, gesturing toward him with a sweep of her hand. "How are you here, little man? And... what's up with this?"
She circled him slowly, her curiosity evident as she took in the subtle yet unmistakable changes in his appearance. Ekko could feel her eyes scrutinising every detail—the fuller build, the healthier glow to his complexion, the piercings in his ears. His distinct lack of the usual white face paint made him seem almost unrecognisable, even to people who should have known him well.
"And his clothes~" Jinx chimed in with a teasing lilt, grinning like she'd just spotted a juicy secret. "What's the deal, boy saviour? You hit up one of those fancy topside boutiques?"
Ekko shot her a quick glare, but her attention was already elsewhere. She was now focused on Isha, her expression softening into something surprisingly genuine. She ruffled the little girl's hair, earning a shy giggle from her—a stark contrast to the chaotic energy Jinx usually exuded.
Ekko turned away, preparing to answer, but Caitlyn beat him to it.
"Alternate bodies," she said thoughtfully, her brows knitting together. "You mentioned that earlier." Her sharp, calculating gaze met his, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "So... this is this world's version of you? And you just—what? Took over his body?"
Ekko winced slightly at the blunt phrasing, raising a hand as if to slow her down. "It's not that simple," he said carefully, glancing at each of them in turn. "I didn't take over anything. It's more like... our consciousnesses swapped. Or... merged, maybe?"
"That's not creepy at all," Vi muttered under her breath, crossing her arms.
Ekko ignored the comment, his focus shifting to Caitlyn, who seemed most interested in the mechanics of it all. "When I crossed into this universe," he explained, "I didn't end up as me. Not exactly. I ended up in this version of me."
"So you're like... a guest in your own skin," Caitlyn said, tilting her head as she processed the explanation.
"Something like that," Ekko admitted, his voice low.
Vi stopped her pacing and frowned. "And what about the other guy? The real Ekko from here. What happened to him?"
The question hit harder than Ekko expected. He looked down, avoiding her gaze. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I don't even know if he's still... in here. Or if I—" He cut himself off, unwilling to voice the darker possibilities aloud.
The room grew heavy with silence for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in.
"Well, that's... unsettling," Vi said finally, trying to mask her unease with a forced chuckle. "No offense, little man, but this is giving me the creeps."
"None taken," Ekko muttered.
Glancing across the group once again, Ekko's gaze landed on the looming shadow at the back. His breath hitched as a cold shiver ran down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, his body tensing involuntarily. From the shadows, two distinct, piercing eyes stared back at him—each a different, unnatural hue, glowing faintly in the dim light.
A sense of foreboding crept over him as he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. "And... who's—who's this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, equal parts curiosity and dread.
Ekko's gaze flicked toward Jinx, who had turned to face him with a grin so wide it was almost unnerving. She teetered on her toes, rocking slightly before skipping over to the hulking figure with a manic energy.
"Wellll~," she began, drawing out the word with her usual sing-song cadence, her voice laced with barely contained excitement. "You know how I said Vander was alive?"
Ekko's stomach dropped as she spun on her heel, gesturing dramatically to the figure shrouded in a makeshift tarp.
"Tada!" she announced gleefully, yanking the tarp away with a theatrical flourish.
For a moment, time seemed to slow. The sunlight streamed through the gaps in the dilapidated walls, illuminating the figure that had been hidden in the shadows. Ekko's eyes widened, his mouth falling slack as his brain scrambled to make sense of what he was seeing.
The creature before him was massive—far taller than the Vander Ekko remembered. Its body was grotesquely muscular, with bulging sinews and grotesque proportions that defied human anatomy. Its hands—no, claws—clicked against the floor as it shifted its weight nervously from one massive paw to the other, the metallic sheen of its talons catching the light.
The creature's face was almost unrecognizable, distorted into something monstrous. Jagged scars carved through its features, and thick, leathery skin stretched unnaturally over its malformed skull. But beneath the monstrous exterior, Ekko caught fleeting glimpses of familiarity—the slope of the brow, the set of the jaw.
It was there. Buried under layers of transformation and madness, there were pieces of the man Vander once was.
Ekko's gaze darted to Vi, hoping—praying—this was some kind of sick joke. But she stood silently, her face a mask of quiet resignation. When their eyes met, she gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod.
"Wha—how?" Ekko whispered, his voice cracking. His mind reeled, disbelief and horror washing over him in waves. "What happened?"
Jinx clapped her hands together, the sound startling in the otherwise heavy silence. "Isn't it cool?" she chirped, as though she were showing off a shiny new toy. "Big guy got a bit of an upgrade!" She leaned closer to Vander, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. "You're gonna love this part, Ekko. Guess what he can do now!"
The creature shifted again, its claws curling against the ground. For a moment, it almost seemed... bashful, hunching slightly as though embarrassed by its own presence. The sight made the horror of the transformation all the more jarring.
"This isn't an upgrade," Ekko muttered, his voice sharp with disbelief. He stepped back, his hands clenched into fists. "This—this isn't Vander."
"Sure it is!" Jinx countered, tilting her head with mock indignation. "Well... sorta. Mostly. I mean, he's still in there." She rapped her knuckles lightly against Vander's arm, as though testing the solidity of a wall.
"Jinx," Vi said sharply, her voice laced with a warning edge.
Jinx raised her hands in mock surrender, stepping back with a smirk. "Okay, okay, I'll shut up. Sheesh."
Ekko turned back to the creature—to Vander. He searched its face, desperate for any sign of the man who had once been a protector, a father figure to so many. "Vander?" he asked tentatively, his voice trembling.
The creature's mismatched eyes flicked toward him, and for a brief moment, Ekko thought he saw something. Recognition. Pain. Shame.
But the moment passed, and the creature let out a low, guttural sound that echoed through the room. It was a noise caught somewhere between a growl and a sigh, heavy with resignation.
Ekko stepped back again, his mind swirling with a thousand questions he wasn't ready to voice. Whatever had happened to Vander—whatever had done this to him—it was too much to process. Not yet.
"Jinx," Vi said again, her tone softer this time but still firm. "Why don't you let me explain this one?"
Jinx sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up in an exaggerated show of surrender. "Fine, fine. Do your boring explanation thing," she grumbled. She turned to Vander, her expression softening unnaturally as she leaned up to plant a quick, affectionate kiss on his cheek.
To Ekko's surprise, Vander didn't flinch or react violently. Instead, his massive, clawed hand shifted slightly to shield the small girl huddled between his arms. Isha, the child Ekko hadn't yet had the chance to understand, stood calmly beneath Vander's protective bulk, her oversized tin hat askew.
It was unnerving, watching such a small girl seem so comfortable near a being as grotesque and monstrous as Vander now appeared. But as Ekko stared, he couldn't deny the strange tenderness in the scene before him. Vander lowered his head slightly, his glowing, mismatched eyes focused on the girl. He let out a low, rumbling huff that Ekko would have mistaken for threatening—if not for Isha's reaction. She giggled, reaching out to pat his enormous claw as though reassuring him. Vander responded with a chuffing noise, warm and almost... fond.
Ekko couldn't look away. There was something unsettling yet undeniably moving about the quiet understanding between the three of them—Jinx, Vander, and Isha. It was a dynamic he hadn't expected, and it threw him off balance.
Vi took a step forward, her gaze flicking between Ekko and Vander before settling back on Ekko. Her expression was complicated—fond, but tinged with sorrow. She let the moment stretch, giving Ekko the space to absorb what he was seeing.
Finally, she spoke. "We're not completely sure how this happened," she began, her voice steady but heavy with the weight of the explanation. "None of us are into that sciency stuff, so we don't have all the details. But what we do know is that it started with Singed."
Ekko stiffened at the name, his gut twisting. Singed. The twisted scientist who had wreaked havoc with the creation of shimmer- not many knew him but this work was undoubtedly him and his name whispered across Zaun.
"He used to work for Silco," Vi continued, her tone darkening. "After everything fell apart, he... took Vander's body. Experimented on him. Tried to make him into some kind of monster. Guess you could say he succeeded."
Her voice wavered slightly on the last word, but she pushed through, glancing toward Vander. "But this isn't just some mindless beast. He's still in there."
Ekko followed her gaze, his eyes locking on Vander once more. It was hard to believe. The creature before him looked so far removed from the man he had known. And yet... there was something in his posture, in the way he interacted with Isha, that hinted at a lingering humanity.
Vi sighed, her expression softening into a bittersweet smile. "He's still our dad. Changed, yeah, but he hasn't lost everything. And we're gonna figure out a way to help him—fix this. Somehow."
Ekko didn't respond immediately. His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion, anger, and a strange pang of hope. "And you're okay with this?" he asked finally, his voice quieter than he intended.
Vi's smile grew faint but resolute. "Doesn't matter if I'm okay with it," she said. "It's not about what we lost. It's about what we still have. And as long as Vander's got even a piece of himself left, we're not giving up on him."
────୨ৎ────
The acrid scent of blood and damp earth clung to the cavern like a second skin, mingling with the metallic tang of grief that Ambessa Medarda refused to acknowledge. She stood tall, a statue carved from stone, her golden armour dulled by streaks of blood and soot. The weight of loss pressed against her shoulders, though she bore it without faltering. Around her, the grim symphony of war played on—soldiers moving mechanically, their covered faces somehow hollow as they lowered bodies into shallow graves.
Behind her, the faint echo of boots announced the soldier’s presence. His voice, steady but tinged with weariness, broke the silence. “We’ve buried the last of the bodies, General Medarda.”
She didn’t turn, didn’t even acknowledge him beyond a flicker of her eyes toward the gravesite where Rictus now rested. Her right hand. Her closest confidant. A death she had not anticipated would cut so deep. Her jaw clenched as she felt the warm trickle of blood pooling in her palm, a mark of her own restraint as her nails dug into her skin.
Her voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the oppressive air. “Good. Gather the troops for the procession—and what remains of our arsenal. We move out as soon as we’re done here.”
“Yes, General.”
The soldier snapped to attention, the clink of his armor echoing as he turned on his heel and marched away. Still, she didn’t look. Her gaze remained fixed on the first grave dug when they had arrived—a deep scar in the earth that mirrored the one in her chest.
Rictus.
The name hovered in her mind like a haunting refrain. The man had been more than just a soldier, more than just a right hand. He had been a cornerstone of her command, a silent force who steadied her when the storms of war grew fierce. And now he was gone.
Ambessa’s fingers flexed, her bloodstained palm aching from the self-inflicted wounds. Yet the pain was grounding. She couldn’t afford to let the tide of emotion breach her defences. Not here. Not now.
Around her, the cavern bustled with activity. Soldiers moved with grim efficiency, their faces tight with restrained grief and simmering anger. Ambessa could feel it radiating from them—the same emotion that churned within her. They were her troops, trained to be unyielding and steadfast, yet the weight of this battle had carved fissures into their resolve.
Her gold-plated boots shifted slightly, the crunch of loose stone beneath them barely audible amidst the din. Her eyes traced the freshly dug graves, each one a testament to their losses. But it was Rictus’ grave that held her gaze, that pulled at the edges of her control.
“Damn you,” she muttered under her breath, a rare crack in her impenetrable demeanour. “Damn you for leaving me like this.”
She inhaled deeply, the sharp air filling her lungs. No time for weakness. The procession would begin soon, and her soldiers would look to her for strength. Even in their despair, they would need her to be the unwavering pillar she had always been.
“Rictus,” she murmured, her voice barely audible amidst the chaos. “I’ll carry this weight. I’ll carry you. But I will not falter- we will revenge you.”
Straightening to her full height, Ambessa turned away from the graves, her gold cloak sweeping the dusty ground behind her. She strode toward the camp’s center, her expression a mask of iron, her steps unyielding.
“Let them grieve,” she thought. “Let them rage. But when we march, we march as one. And we do not look back.”