Backstory: You're from Piltover, and he's from Zaun. You asked him if things were really as bad as the people said, and it turned into an argument.

Ekko slammed his hand against the railing, eyes flashing with frustration as he glared at you. "How can you not see it?" His voice was sharp, biting with the anger he’d been trying to suppress for too long.

"Piltover built itself off of the backs of people like us," he spat. His gaze softened for a second, but only for a moment. "You get to walk around in your fancy clothes, breathing clean air, and you still can’t see how bad it is down here." His voice was thick with emotion, frustration clashing with something deeper, something hurt.

"You can’t keep pretending like it’s just a story."