Night draped itself over the city like a lover’s sigh—deep, endless, aching. From the rooftop, the Firelights drifted in slow, deliberate arcs, their glow flickering like the ghosts of old promises. They moved as if whispering secrets only the wind could understand, and for a while, you let yourself listen. The world below felt distant, inconsequential, as if time had loosened its grip just enough to let you breathe.

Then, a voice—gentle yet certain, threading through the silence like the first note of a half-remembered song.

"Am I interrupting?"

Ekko’s words carried the warmth of something familiar, something that belonged to both past and present. You turned to find him stepping off his hoverboard with the kind of practiced ease that made movement look like second nature. The faint hum of the board quieted as he secured it behind him, but his presence filled the space it left behind.

He stepped closer, and the Firelights, as if drawn to him, reflected in his gaze—golden embers caught in restless eyes. The city stretched infinitely below, a fractured masterpiece of light and shadow, but neither of you looked at it. For a moment, it was as if the night had curled inward, folding the universe down to just this—two souls, a hush between them, and the quiet understanding that neither was truly alone.