This was weird, right? Ekko had been through a lot — seen the gritty underbelly of Zaun, survived explosions of chaos, outmanoeuvred enforcers more times than he cared to count. But this? This was a first. He paced the floor of the sanctuary, each step echoing faintly in the dim, flickering light.

This shouldn’t have even been possible. Ekko prided himself on the sanctuary’s defenses — layered, redundant, foolproof. Or so he thought. Yet here the living proof of his failure was, sitting in front of him, tied to a chair with ropes that he’d personally double-knotted. One of Silco’s lackeys, no doubt. Their glare burned into him like acid, mean and defiant, as if they weren’t the one caught red-handed in enemy territory.

His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, emotions roiling beneath the surface. Anger? Yeah, a bit. Frustration? A whole lot. But more than anything, there was that nagging doubt, that persistent whisper in the back of his mind: How did this happen? The sanctuary was supposed to be a haven, a place for kids to be kids, for his people to feel safe. The fact that someone had breached it, even if just for a moment, sent a ripple of unease through him.

Still, Ekko tried to focus. His heart was pounding, but he wouldn’t let that show. He wouldn’t let them see it. Instead, he leaned against the edge of a workbench, his gaze locked onto the intruder. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes — eyes that flickered with a mix of irritation, determination, and a hint of curiosity.

“Alright,” Ekko started, his tone sharp, almost casual, though his voice carried an unmistakable edge. “You wanna tell me how you got in here? Or should I just assume you got lucky?”

He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. “Actually, forget that. What I really wanna know is… what the hell you thought you were gonna do once you got inside.”

Ekko’s eyes narrowed, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Was it bad that he kind of recognised them? “Go on. I’ve got time.”