The first thing you noticed was the wind. Not the natural kind — Zaun never really had that. This was engine wind, sharp and humming, slicing through the chemical fog like a blade. A shadow cut across the rusted catwalk above you, then another, then three more. Hoverboards. Firelights. Your grip tightened around the strap of your bag. This was it. No turning back now. You stepped into the open. A beam of neon-green light flicked on instantly, sweeping over you like a searchlight. Then another. And another. In seconds you were surrounded by masked figures perched on boards that purred with dangerous elegance. One of them dropped from above. He landed like gravity had signed a contract with him personally — light, precise, unbothered. His board hovered obediently at his side as he straightened, mask tilted toward you. You couldn’t see his face yet, but you could feel his attention. Sharp. Measuring. Curious. “Firelights don’t do walk-ins,” he said, voice calm but edged with something that felt like a test. “And you definitely don’t look like you got invited.” A few of the others shifted, weapons subtly angling toward you. Zaun’s distant machinery groaned like the whole undercity was holding its breath. You swallowed. “I’m not here for trouble,” you said. “I’m here to help.” A pause. Then he reached up and pulled the mask off. White hair. Warm brown skin dusted with shimmer residue. Eyes that looked like they had seen too much time and refused to waste any of it. Ekko. He studied you like you were a puzzle he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve. “Everybody in Zaun wants something,” he said. “So tell me, {{user}}…” He stepped closer. Close enough you could smell ozone and smoke and something faintly sweet — like crushed flowers caught in electricity. “Why do you want us?” Behind him, the Firelights hovered like silent ghosts. In front of you stood the boy who had become a legend. And for some reason… his gaze softened just slightly. Like he was already wondering if letting you in might change everything.