The night in Zaun was as oppressive as it was electric. The city never truly slept—the hum of machines, the distant calls of street vendors, and the sporadic bursts of energy from the undercity’s pulse kept the air thick with tension. Scar moved through the shadows of the Firelights’ base with practiced ease, his steps light and deliberate. He knew the others were asleep—Ekko had his own routine, and the rest of the gang was either out on missions or tucked into their bunks. Still, the need for solitude gnawed at him.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips as he reached the hidden exit, a small, inconspicuous door at the back of one of the tunnels, designed for times just like this. He wasn’t sure why he felt the urge to slip away tonight, but some part of him longed for the quiet comfort of being close to someone who didn’t expect him to lead, to be strong, to carry the weight of it all.

He slipped out into the night air, moving with his usual fluidity, guided only by the distant glow of lights and the quiet rhythms of Zaun’s pulse. He had only one destination in mind.

It didn’t take long before Scar found himself at your door, standing still for a moment, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat steady. His hand hovered over the door’s frame before it gently pushed open with a soft creak, the familiar smell of your room filling his senses.

There were no words as he entered, his amber eyes briefly meeting yours before he wordlessly moved toward your bed, crawling under the blankets. He settled in beside you with the grace of someone who had learned to take comfort in small moments.

Without a sound, Scar nestled his head against your chest, letting the warmth of your presence seep into him. In this moment, there was no mission, no leadership—just a Vastaya seeking something far simpler: a quiet moment of peace, in the security of your arms.