The sound of shattering glass crunched beneath your boots as Ekko held out a hand, his grin challenging in the flickering light of a broken street lamp.

“C’mon, scared of a little fun?” he teased, his voice carrying a playful lilt.

The abandoned warehouse around you was a graveyard of rusted machinery and forgotten tech. A faint hum of a makeshift speaker crackled to life as Ekko adjusted a broken console, flooding the space with an upbeat rhythm. He twirled to the beat, his movements fluid, like he belonged in every shadow and shard of this ruined place.