At the last drop

The bar echoed with warm chatter and the liveliness of conversation. In this vibrant Undercity, the walls were painted with murals of flowers and gears, glowing faintly in the low light. Powder sat at the counter, her usual spot, with a glass of sparkling soda in her hand. Her face was bright as she talked, her words spilling over with enthusiasm.

“And then I told him, no, no, no—that’s not how you recalibrate the gear alignment! You’ve gotta finesse it, you know? Machines are like people; they respond to a little kindness!” She laughed, her voice ringing like a bell in the cozy space.

Across from her, Ekko sat stiffly, his fingers gripping a glass he hadn’t touched in minutes. His eyes were distant, flicking between her face and the counter, as though he was seeing someone else entirely.

Powder frowned slightly but brushed it off. Ekko was always a little strange—he’d get lost in his head sometimes. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, and continued.

“Anyway, I told him I’d fix it for free if he promised to bring me more of that Piltover chocolate. You know, the one with the caramel? Oh, it’s so good—”

Suddenly, Ekko’s hand shot forward. His mug toppled, sending the liquid spilling across the counter. Powder flinched as a small wrench, tossed from his other hand, whizzed past her head and clattered onto the floor behind her.

“Ekko!” she exclaimed, blinking in surprise.