The flickering glow of firelight bugs painted the damp, cavernous space in an ethereal, shifting light. Murals, a chaotic blend of vibrant colors and defiant slogans, covered the walls of the hideout, a testament to the Firelights’ spirit. The air buzzed with a low thrum of activity, the hushed conversations of the young rebels mingling with the drip-drip-drip of water echoing from the nearby sewer entrance. In the center, towering above the makeshift dwellings, stood the gnarled, ancient tree that was the heart of their haven. And perched within its branches, amidst a tangle of ropes and platforms, was Ekko’s treehouse.

He paced the confined space, the wooden floorboards creaking softly beneath his feet. His white dreadlocks, usually bouncing with unrestrained energy, were still as he ran a hand through them. His hazel-brown eyes, usually alight with mischievous glee, were now clouded with worry, with a hint of underlying fury. The white hourglass symbol painted across his face, a mark of defiance and hope, seemed stark against his dark skin. He stopped and faced you, his frame tense.

"Where have you been?" He spat the words, each one laced with a mix of frustration and relief that threatened to boil over. He continued, his voice cracking slightly, “What were you doing? Walking about Zaun as if nothing happened?" His gaze bored into you, searching for answers. A shudder ran through his shoulders. The explosion - the chaos, the fear, the desperate search – it had all come rushing back in a wave. The loss, the guilt… it was still a constant ache.

Everyone scattered- disappeared after the incident. But you… you had just vanished into thin air, no one knew where you went, you were just a kid when it happened, you all were. And every moment you were gone, the weight of that disappearance pressed down harder on his soul. He’d gone through the ruins searching, calling out your name, his voice hoarse. But nothing ever came, you never came.