Work Text:
The air was cool, a stark difference from how it normally touched his skin, working as though cool fingers caressed him, drawing circles along his biceps in an almost familiar teasing manner. Mocking him in a sense as he whipped his head to follow the touch, hoping that maybe, maybe it'll be different. Maybe he'll see who he actually wanted to see.
It was never the case. Turning his head in alert to the touch, his heart in his throat as it was pleading to be different. As always, an empty space. As always, his heart sank in despair, but still thumped on, slowing down until it was filled with that melancholy that had shrouded him for so long. Emanating like a cloak all around him that did nothing to keep him warm.
He tried to push it down, to remain focused on the task ahead. Everyone was looking to him. He was drowning in rebuilding projects, drowning in the attempt to get people to listen to him and what everyone else wanted in the Undercity. They may have representation on the council, but it was one up against the rest of them. Hardly balanced, hardly checked, and it felt like there was more fighting than actual solving.
Focus on the task, not the crushing weight of responsibility that had settled deeply onto his shoulders, pushing him further into the ground, to the point he feared he'd be buried under the dirt. Buried alive, digging his nails into the earth so he could continue his work. He couldn't stop. If he stopped then he'd have to think about everything that happened. If he stopped, then it all came crashing down on him.
The blueprint in front of him wrinkled under his fist, the pen in his hand quivering under his tight grip as he worked his head out from the thought process he had found himself in. It would do him no good. He's been at this for months. Pushing everything else back down, keep going. He had work to do. Too many people relied on him, he can't just let himself crack under his own feelings and grief as other people were left floundering due to his own selfishness.
Even with this knowledge, his head began to hurt from months of covering, his eyes pressed forward unshed tears, trying to relieve the pressure from behind them. It was all too much, but that was life, and he had to get over it. Had to focus on other things that weren't himself.
When was the last time he had focused on himself, though?
That was beside the point, he had things to do.
The blueprint blurred in front of him, his eyes burning, more so from the lack of sleep. Forcing his body to stay awake, just so he didn't have to sleep, didn't have to dream. Didn't have to connect with his head in processing. Didn't have to be haunted by pink.
His body shook uncontrollably, a breeze coming in from somewhere he couldn't be bothered to think about. It was cold in this room, way too cold. It shouldn't be this way in this room, it never was. It was comfortable most of the time, better than the Undercity's normal weather. But never like this. Why was it so cold?
His core was quivering, a strange anxiety settling in as it warped around his body, anchoring its claws into his skin as he felt himself freeze, the world around him feeling so minuscule suddenly and much too large all at once. His breathing felt shallow, his chest paining itself as his lungs begged for air, it wasn't enough, nothing was enough, he wasn't enough. Everything felt as though it was toppling down, and he could do nothing to brace them and hold it all upright. He was just one person. But he was the only one who could do this. He was the only one who could repair it all, he couldn't add this burden to anyone else.
He had to push forward, regardless of the way his breath shortened, how his vision blurred from sheer exhaustion, running himself on empty far too many nights in a row. He could keep going, he had to. People were depending on him, and he was depending on himself to figure this all out on his own.
Why must he though? The collaboration process was where he thrived. He loved to bounce ideas off of someone else with a similar thought process. A mind that felt far more creative than his, someone who pushed him, challenged the box that he so regularly found himself in when something didn't go just right the first time.
They had both liked that. Liked that the other seemed to know something just a little more than the other, though their wavelengths were in perfect sync with the other. Pulsing through at the same speed, bouncing ideas around, sometimes just a little faster than the other. They would've come to the same conclusion eventually, but it was nice to have someone there, ready to work, ready to make the approach a little differently and let the other have an eureka moment.
It was what he devoured during his time in the alternate universe, drank from a cup of the coolest water, a thirst that had been pushed down for so long finally semi-satiated for the first time in years. He craved more. Wanted to keep working, to keep collaborating, to hear that oh so familiar hum as she thought about what to do next, taking a step back from their work to look at the bigger picture.
And his wish came true. Working as a tandem team once more, this time, it felt even more invigorating as he realized he was working with his her. It was so easy. So simple, her company sparking new ideas, his brain up and ready to do anything and everything, to keep on par with her own brilliance as she recovered each day, her work making her sharp and ready.
Oh how he wished to bask in it all again.
That plush memory that was so warm and cared for. The timid jokes they said around the other, almost like they didn't know if it was okay. Didn't know if this tentative version of their relationship was built for the long term. Didn't know if it was all about working towards the war, and once it was all over, they'd once again be at each other's throats, enemies for all time, the years between too bitter and broken to mend anything beyond that.
They wouldn't know now, would they? Another part of what could've been taken away from him. The forgiveness he had been forging left floating in the space between him and a ghost, unspoken, but so desperately wanted to be known. To begin anew again, to be simply he and she.
He couldn't be focused on all of that. Couldn't let himself be swept away in his own melancholy once more, not when so many relied on him. Not when there was so much to do still.
His cheeks felt wet, the taste of it falling onto his tongue with that unmistakable flavor. It was just his sweat, obviously. Even as it pittered onto the blueprint in front of him, he rationalized it was just that. Regardless of how uncharacteristically cool it was. He was working hard, that was all it was. Even as his chest ached and he felt his sobs wrack through his body involuntarily. They had nowhere else to go but out. They couldn't be contained anymore, but he'd pretend like they hadn't shown up. He'd blame the exhaustion, the frustration of trying to make everyone happy. It just came all out. He'll be fine. It wasn't because he was still mourning. Not with all the work they had to do.
Besides, it's been nearly a year since it all happened. He let himself feel the loss, feel how soul-crushing it all was for a night. At the funeral, he let himself feel it. After that, he had a job to get done.
There was a humming that pricked his ears to attention, suddenly. The world was dark all around him, his eyes feeling glued shut as he began to register that he was in a laying down position. Alarm bells rang through his head as he began to thrash around, feeling weighed down by the sudden sheet that had been draped over him. What had happened? When had he even gone to sleep? He was still at his desk, right? Was this a weird side effect of timeline hopping? Was he now in a new one?
A cool hand pressed on his forehead, a thumb gently caressing it as long nails languidly caught the divots in his skin. The humming didn't cease, it became louder in his ears, a scratchiness to it as it caught on some of the notes, almost like a delay in sound before it came out again. Like a familiar old record player that had long ago surpassed its expiration date.
"You really are hopeless." The voice breathed into his ear, his heart in his throat as he suddenly didn't want to open his eyes. His thrashing stilled as did his breathing, a new weight on his chest like someone had put bricks on it one by one, seeing how many could be placed on him before he stopped breathing all together.
He must be in another timeline, transported from his room within the Firelights' base, and somewhere completely different. No one had told him that there would be consequences to timeline jumping, and now, it looked like it was right in front of him. Forever taunting him, reminding him exactly what he couldn't have. Another version of him living his life with the very person he wished to just be able to see again. And he was once again a strange intruder, taking hold of another version of him.
Slowly, timidly, he began to peel back his eyes, afraid of what he'd introduce himself to. What would this version of her look like? Where would they even be located if not at the Firelights base? What would this version of the universe look like? Would this finally be a timeline where everyone was just alive and well? Strange if that were truly the case.
His vision was blurred from being crusted over by his watering eyes, the light in this universe much too bright than where he had left from before. A blur stood over him, made up of blue, blue that he hadn't seen in nearly a year, blue that he had caught himself thinking he saw from the corner of his eyes. Blue that he had been wanting to see for so, so long.
There was a constriction in his throat as it suddenly forgot how to speak. As though someone had shoved his blueprints down his throat, telling him how awful they were, that they didn't deserve to see the light of day. That he was no longer any use to them and they could figure it all out on their own. They didn't need him anymore.
A shushing noise was made from her. He didn't know what name she went by in this universe as her fingers found their way to the bridge of his nose and gently stroked it. His eyes began to droop as the humming continued, processing now that his head was in her lap as her other thumb gently stroked his cheekbone. He felt her eyes on him, like she was trying to memorize his face for some reason, acting as though she were the one who hadn't seen his face in nearly a year. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Or would he feel strange for trying to look for his version of her in this new timeline?
It wouldn't be like last time. He rediscovered his version of her through Powder, reawakened the deep bonds that had filled in through years of pain and distrust. They had been slowly repairing themselves as they spent that month together, sharing things with each other as they had done so many years ago. How quickly he found himself back in that head space, as though there hadn't been those years between them, as if they had just carried on like nothing had happened.
But so much had happened, and they'd be fools to not honor that.
"Relax, would you? They can keep turning without you for one night."
His eyes snapped open. It sounded too much like his version. Even Powder had phrased things slightly differently, her voice smoother than who he was hearing now. The cadence too perfectly his her. It was all too perfectly her, especially when a metal coolness touched his cheek, where the nail should've been rubbing it as though it were the most precious thing in the world.
Eyes saw clearly now, no longer blurred from the film of what his watering had done. He stared at eyes that were just as surprised to see him rearing to go, suddenly fueled up with so much energy that he didn't know how to contain it. His breathing hitched as he stared into her eyes, unblinking, almost afraid that if he did, she'd disappear. She and her pink, pink eyes.
Sleep deprivation must've hit him fast. Perfectly coming up with an image of her to fuel him to keep working. Maybe he'd be talking to her soon, making up responses so he could bounce thought processes back and forth, something he had been craving.
Even so…he highly doubted his brain to come up with this perfect of an image of her. If it had been his brain…it would've come up with what she had looked like during the fight. Her hair would've been shaved, her body covered in the little symbols that they had drawn on each other in a moment of childhood reminiscing. He remembered how her tongue had stuck out as she concentrated on his art, hand occasionally going to her hair as though she felt the ghost of her braids still on her back.
Now, her hair was longer. In the almost year it had been, it had grown back just below her chin. It seemed to be too fast for not even a full year, but what did he know? She at one point had ankle length hair, it seemed totally possible. A grouping of hair was braided to the side of her head, like her fingers had gotten antsy in needing to do something, a little trinket around the braid, already needing to have something in her hair again. He wondered how long it lasted before she caved and made it, needing to feel some weight to her head.
There were new scars on her, a gnarly looking one right on her neck that he caught himself reaching out to touch. He wondered where she got it from. Maybe from the explosion? Maybe some shrapnel had embedded itself into her skin that she had to dig out herself.
His stomach felt uneasy as he continued to look at her. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to make heads or tails of anything. He still felt as though he were dreaming. Like this was just his brain trying to piece together what she could possibly look like if she had lived.A rough estimation, complete with her new cloak that had a certain richness to it that he never thought he'd see her in.
"Stole it from some rich bitch." She seemed to read his mind as she gave him a playful grin, the humor placed brightly on display as she touched his face with it, letting him feel the plush velvet it was made of.
He didn't care for it. His brain was playing tricks on him, surely. A cruel manipulation to push him through in finishing his work. It was giving him what he wanted, therefore he could finally concentrate. He could stop bemoaning and just get everything where he envisioned it. Even if it meant having this cruel facade of her in front of him. At least he'd finally have someone to bounce ideas off of, even if it was just his own brain.
"Are you real?" The question spilled out of him like water, the clog from his throat finally dispelling to ask the question.
Her face softened at that, the playful grin replaced by the corners of her lips pitching downward that spoke of understanding. That she knew this question was coming, but she was still unprepared for it as her stroking stopped and the rich velvet cloak fell to her side with a heavy thumping sound.
"It's gonna take more than just a little explosion to kill me. Thought you knew that by now." The quip fell harder than she did, the forced smile quickly lost itself on her features as she shifted herself into a state of discomfiture. Her hands stiffening as she dislocated her eyes away from him, taking in rapt attention to his wall suddenly as she pursed her lips together.
"Yes. I'm real." She finally stated, deciding now to take it seriously, or maybe she was just letting her guard down, knowing that it was just them and she didn't have to put up a pretense. She could just be herself without having to look over her shoulder. Say what she wanted to say and be as heartfelt as she deemed necessary.
The confirmation hit him like a ton of bricks. His air knocked out of him as he slowly unraveled his arms from the sheet it had twisted itself into and moved his hand up towards her face to touch. Her cheek was warm and smooth underneath his fingertips, adding the weight of her face into his hand as she leaned into his touch, a deep sigh escaping from out of her as though it had settled there long ago and finally was able to come out.
A flare of something fierce, something twisted curled inside of him as he felt his face flush with a rage that overwhelmed him suddenly. His grieving was replaced by the fury, as he ripped his hand away from her cheek, suddenly feeling burned by her. Burned by the abandonment that she had sewn in her supposed passing. How for so long he had thought she had left the world in one final explosion, leaving everyone behind. Making them all believe she was dead.
"Why?" Came the boiling heat of his tone as he rose himself from out of her lap, feeling all too claustrophobic by her presence all of a sudden. Feeling as though she were an intruder now than a welcomed guest. She had made them believe she was dead, and now she was just back. Entering back in as though she had never left at all. Casually, as though it was no big deal at all.
She blinked at him, eyes holding only confusion as her face flashed through a series of emotions that soon matched his own. Her face reddening from her own anger as she scrunched up her nose with the emotion.
"What do you mean why?" Her tone was dangerous, almost threatening him to continue his current accusations of her. Her brow raised as though she were in wait for him to continue, tsking her tongue in the clear annoyance that had begun to bubble forth between them. "Here I thought you'd be ecstatic."
He inhaled sharply at that, rising up from his bed to begin pacing the floor. She really was asking him what he meant? She couldn't put it all together and realize what he went through this nearly year? What he had to bury just to keep functioning? What her own sister went through? Vi had stopped talking for a while, placed in a nearly catatonic state, only eating enough to survive, and even then she had to be convinced to do that. He hadn't seen her in months, didn't know if she was okay or not. His communication with either of them had been suddenly cut off with no notice at all. One moment they were there, the next, gone.
Just like she had been.
"You died."
"I obviously didn't." She rolled her eyes at him as she gestured over her still conscious occupied body. She puffed her cheeks out as though to blow out her frustration as she stared him down, watching him pace with two pointed eyes as though she were some sort of predator looking for any weakness that he may express at any moment.Lying in wait and ready to pounce at a moment's notice.
"Yeah, obviously. Does Vi know you're back from the dead?" He snapped, not letting her have what she desperately wanted. What, he couldn't tell. He didn't even understand why she was here in the first place. Why she had decided to finally show her face again. Why she chose this place of all places to go to make her reappearance.
It was her turn to suck in a breath that refused to be exhaled. Her eyes wide as she was caught by something that she hadn't been expecting to be hit with. She found that spot that she had been so interested in before again, avoiding his targeted stare. Even with the lack of the verbal response, Ekko knew her answer. Vi didn't know. She was possibly still in that mansion locked up, staring listlessly into the fireplace, dreaming of better days.
"So. Where have you been? Why?" He inquired again, trying to get her to look at him, trying to stop how choked he felt as he saw her sitting on his bed, looking so different than how he had last seen her, but also the same all in one. How all he wanted to do was sob in pure joy that she was back in his life, that she was alive, and shouldn't that be enough?
It didn't stop the hurt that he had endured. He hated how pitiful it made him sound, but it was true. Even with her back…he couldn't wipe away the time that had passed and the hurt that had continued to manifest as time moved forward instead of dissipating into a dull ache. It grew tremendously more each day and the only way to bury it all was through endless work and the refusal of sleep.
The dreams only made it worse exponentially more, if he didn't sleep, he didn't get them. Simple as that, something that he could deal with and push it all down once more.
"All over." She admitted, suddenly sounding sheepish in her confession. She chewed on her bottom lip as she continued to refuse to look at him, her fingers messing with the hem of her cloak, twirling it in her fingers and covering them in the fabric as though she were a chastised child. "I had to get away. Figure out who I am again without…all of this. Without anyone swaying who I should or shouldn't be."
She gestured all around them, adding to the bigger picture. Figure out who she was that wasn't the reluctant hero. A savior who never wanted to be one. A symbol who so desperately wanted to be her own person again.
And though he understood where she was coming from, he still couldn't help the pang of rejection that shot through him like the shrapnel from one of her bombs. Like he was on that bridge all over again. She didn't have to tell him that she felt persuaded to go into one direction, to abandon one part of her just to appease him and anyone else around her. He hadn't wanted that. He wanted all of her. He had just wanted her to stay. That's all.
Pressure from his eyes threatened to spill more tears as her answer attempted to push them out more. He steeled them away, not wanting them to fall in fear they would ruin everything even more. That as soon as they did fall, that she'd disappear again, and this had all been made up from his mind. A way for him to finally process all that had happened. To finally move on from it all and get back to work.
He had a job to do, he had too many people relying on him to keep going. His brain knew. His brain was just helping him along, that was all.
"Did you find yourself?" His voice was small, choked on whatever was blocking his throat as he now leveled his gaze on her even more, looking for any tell of hers to understand exactly what was going on in her head.
She simply hummed, something so non-committal that he didn't know how to feel about it. She messed with the velvet some more, frowning as she unraveled her fingers from it and instead wrapped them in his discarded bed sheet, taking it to her nose and inhaling deeply. Like she was trying to memorize the scent, that she knew she was going to be leaving soon and she wanted to commit it to memory.
"I thought I did." She tugged the bed sheet closer to her, hugging it as though it were some strange life line. She finally met his eyes again, and this time, it felt like she was ready to meet his gaze. No hint of that flare of anger from before, no discomfiture clouding her eyes as she questioned everything about her being there. She was steady, ready to answer.
"I realized…that I wasn't me without some key people." Her voice was steady as she delivered, her face soft as she pressed on. "I thought I had to leave to protect everyone, but…I was wrong. So wrong. It took traveling the world alone to figure it out. Ekko."
The way she said his name had him cracking, the tears that he had dammed up for so long sprung from his eyes suddenly as his chest heaved from months of pent of heavy breathing and expression. It was finally coming all out, his chest hurting as it continued to convulse, the only thing his brain seemed to process was the way it was finally just able to release without him holding it back. How it finally felt sound enough to expel it all out once and for all, unafraid of how it may make him look, or the noises that exploded from his body.
Everything seemed to flood him all at once, the years of separation from her, the change he had seen in the Undercity, how the streets he grew up in were somehow more dangerous than they had ever been before. How the person he saw as friend was now his sworn enemy, promised to hurt anyone who got in the way of rising plans. How he twisted his mind to hate her, to separate her from that friend he had and distort her into a whole new person so he didn't feel guilt as he went after her himself. She hadn't felt it, so why should he?
How he had faltered that time, how he thought he had lost her before, only to see a glimpse of her rise of a symbol. A brief second that confirmed that she was still alive, but still different. Yet not at the same time. The alternate timeline set him straight, reminding him that she wasn't entirely different, that she had always been like this, just with a healthier environment. How he had to set his heart on forgiveness then let it swallow him whole until he became a person he didn't recognize. He couldn't let himself twist into an unrecognizable being, but he also knew it would take time to build that trust again. Realizing that it was much harder to let bygones be bygones. Though, he was willing to try.
For he too was made up of the people around him, and when one person was missing, he was afraid he turned into a person he couldn't recognize. And with another person who had been gone for so long slid herself back into him again, he couldn't help but to let the emotions flow. As though a key had turned a locked chest at long last, dispelling whatever enchantment had been upon it in the first place.
Arms wrapped themselves around his body, holding him close as he continued to sob, the flow unstopping now as he found himself wrapping his arms around her, taking in the way the outside world smelled upon her skin as she tucked him in close. She rocked them both, drawing circles into his back as he tucked his head onto her shoulder, not minding about the slightly awkward angle it put him in as he was slightly taller than her. Her flesh fingers found their way to his head, continuing their circles even there, evoking more sobs from out of him as he clung to her close.
There were still so many things left unsaid. How he desperately wanted to tell her everything, all at once. To catch her up on what she had missed, to hear of her adventures, to have that talk they promised to have once the war was over and they were safe, albeit temporarily. The long overdue talk that he once pushed away again. She was back, in his arms, humming in his ear an unfamiliar tune that he wondered if she had picked up on her travels. He wondered if she had met anyone new during her time away. At that thought, his heart seemed to shatter. What if she had…they weren't anything official when she had left, but it felt like it was leading to there.
Still, she was under no obligation to abstain from a relationship outside of him. They hadn't been anything more than sneaked looks as they thought the other wasn't looking and even sneakier hand holds in the last two weeks of working together.
"No one could ever measure up to you. Not even the guns." He met her wisecrack with a wet laugh as he felt himself melt into her even further, his exhaustion catching up to him in triple times speed all at once. His eyes began to droop, as he felt the way she shifted him in her arms, leading them both back to his bed and gently adjusting themselves to be both on it.
He found himself once again in her lap, her fingers carding through his hair, taking extra care to straighten out any of his own hair ornaments. Taking extra care to stroke down his face after each correction, somehow guessing that he wished that she'd keep touching him, assuring him that he was in fact not dreaming, that she was real and the brushes to his face were in fact not a figment of his over realistic imagination.
"We need to talk–" he pushed himself to keep from falling asleep. There were still so many things left unsaid, still things they needed to address. He needed to tell her so much, to assure her that just because he still held onto some hurt, he wanted to make the amends all that much faster.
A light shushing sound came out of her as she brushed the bridge of his nose, her nails leaving a trail of light tickles in their wake.
"Jinx." He tried again, trying to dispel the lassitude of which he felt that was growing more and more successful with each new caress she bestowed upon him, coaxing him deeper into a slumber that he had been fighting against for much too long.
"I'll be here when you wake up. Then we can have your oh so important talk." The lightness in her voice made something bloom within his chest, his hand languidly going to the hand with only nine of her flesh fingers, stopping it from tucking his hair back once more and instead holding it close to his heart.
"You promise?" There was something childish in the way that he asked, a spurt of energy that was just enough to let him widen his eyes to see her. To really see her. To know when she was just telling him something he wished to hear so he would go to sleep, and in that time, slip out and disappear once more like before. That this was her last time seeing him and she wanted to part on a better note. Letting him know that she was indeed alive, but just out of reach. Always just out of reach.
"I promise, Ekko." She whispered it to him so reverently, as though his name alone could fix most of what was wrong in the world. There was no false hood in what she said, at least none that he could detect. And that very feeling of certainty finally let him close his eyes fully, holding onto her hand as she rubbed more circles into his, that hum still caught in her chest as he let himself be swept away by it.
The muscles in his body finally relaxed, finally let himself melt into her lap and the mattress beneath him. At last the rampant voices inside his head began to quiet, the weight of the world lifting off his shoulders, if only for a moment. It was a moment he so desperately needed though. He let himself feel the way she touched him, let himself be spent and fine with the way things were for now. It was out of his control for the rest of the day, tomorrow, he'll get back to work. Tomorrow, he'll create the world that he had always envisioned living in.
And he'll be able to build it with her, rather than just for her. They could create the better tomorrow as one. Her new knowledge of what the world held and her advice on what they should build in their brand new beginning.
They could experience it, together.
"We gotta tell Vi." Came his last defense of trying to stay awake, so he could soak up being in her presence and being conscious about it for a moment longer.
She hummed something again, the distant sound of the bed creaking meeting his ears as she shifted above him, pressing her lips atop his forehead, the ends of her hair grazing his face ever so tenderly. Her fingers pressed deeper into his hand as though she tried to communicate something to him. Trying to get him to understand something that his brain just couldn't process fully. Not when it was languid with lack of sleep and something beginning to erupt from the constant burning the wick at both ends.
"We'll talk more later. For now, sleep. Your body needs it." Nothing was hidden as a joke any longer. This was her. The real her, guard completely down and not something that he could conjure up. He couldn't. She was far too unpredictable for that. He had no way of knowing what she'd say or how she'd react. No way of predicting that she'd be here, in this room, breathing the same air as he was, holding him close as he continued to slip away into well deserved sleep.
Not even if he turned back time and knew the future of events. Somehow, she'd keep on surprising him with something new.
Which is exactly as he wanted it to be like. He wanted her to keep him on his toes, to continue to have him think outside the box. To always make him be on par with her. They understood each other in ways that most people didn't. Knew that even with what was unsaid they were already on the same page. The same paragraph, even. They just needed to find themselves in the same sentence again.
And they would be. Soon. When he got some adequate sleep and he got to take her in some more. Then they'll talk. Then they'll have everything sorted once more.
Finally, his body won out. He felt himself slip into that sleep that it had been craving for so long. All the while, she caressed his face as though she couldn't get enough of him, cajoling him into a deeper, more restful sleep, her humming vibrating her whole body now as he attuned himself to it even further. Her fingers ghosted his lips a little bit, urging them to part, knowing him well enough that soon, it'd open on its own accord as he entered his deep sleep, caressing his cheeks so lovingly that he practically purred himself deeper into her, adjusting himself on her lap just to be closer. He couldn't get enough, couldn't be touching enough of her. His nose filled with her scent, so soothing, and so very real. No matter how many times he had tried to emulate her scent, he hadn't been able to, not even with the soaps and perfumes he knew she used.
She was so very real. And she was here. His Jinx.
For the first time in almost a year, Ekko rested. For the first time in so long, it finally felt like a restful sleep.