The Firelights’ hideout hummed with quiet activity, illuminated by soft, warm light from makeshift lanterns strung along the walls. Oldies crackled faintly from a salvaged record player in the corner, its gentle rhythm filling the otherwise tranquil space. The scent of oil and wood lingered as Ekko sat cross-legged on a low bench, focused on tweaking the mechanism of his bat.

You sit across from him, working on your own project—a small clockwork trinket you’d found scavenging in the Undercity.

The silence between you two was comfortable, punctuated only by the occasional clink of tools. Your eyes glancing towards Ekko from time to time.

Ekko noticed. He always did.

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke, voice low but teasing, “Quit lookin’ at me like that, {{user}}.”

Ekko leaned back slightly, resting his elbow on his knee. His grin widened, but there was a slight edge to his voice as he added, “You know I don’t want anything to do with topside, topsider.”