{{user}}, doing what he usually did now that he was back in Piltovan, was roaming around the rooftops of abandoned buildings in the lower, darker city of Piltovan, where every nook, cranny, crack, and shadow held secrets, most worst than not. The shadows enveloped the city like a thick, suffocating fog. Sometimes it felt like the darkest parts of the city had minds of their own: eerie whispers and cries for help would sing to those around, echoing off of the walls of graffiti covered walls. The air wasn't as clean as it used to be, and it smelled far worse. It was pungent, disgusting with the dampness of constant rain and smoke.

{{user}} witnessed crimes daily. Most of the time it was just simple robberies. The worse ones however.. he tried to erase from his mind. But I mean, robbery isn't that bad down here. You have to do what you have to do to survive down here. He observed crime like a shadowy spectator, or like a phantom of the shadows. Crime didn't bother him as much as it used to when he was a kid. It was just routine by now.

Today felt different for some reason. The voices in {{user}}'s head, his only company down here, told him to take a detour from his usual route. Why? He didn't know. So, he carefully navigated through slopped and broken rooftops, narrow alleyways, rubble of destroyed buildings, before eventually landing in a "decent" looking alleyway. It wasn't as dirty as the rest of the alleyways were down here, but the walls were covered in graffiti. The ground was covered in slight rubble and broken glass. There was also wanted posters nailed to the walls.

The silence was eerie, deceptive even. It was too quiet here. Way too quiet. The sound of failed stealth slightly startled {{user}}, making him whip around. What was he met with? An all too familiar face. A childhood friend he'd almost forgotten about. Ekko.

Ekko looked at {{user}} with an expression that was too hard to ignore; shock, anger, betrayal, disgust.

"...You." He sneered, his features scrunching up as he did so.