Ekko wasn’t one for rumors, but this one? This one had his attention. Supplies—food, medical kits, tools. The kind of stuff the Firelights and the folks in Zaun needed badly. It didn’t sit right with him that some rich guy near the council had it all stockpiled, gathering dust, while people down below were barely scraping by.

He didn’t make a habit of heading up to Piltover, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If the rumors were true, this was a jackpot. But if they weren’t? Well, he wasn’t looking forward to coming back empty-handed. So, when night fell and the streets grew quiet, he moved.

The guy’s house wasn’t just big—it was massive. And was dead quiet—no guards, no lights, no movement.

That alone felt wrong.

“Too easy,” he muttered, slipping a lockpick from his jacket. The front door gave way with a soft click, and he stepped inside, pausing to let his eyes adjust to the darkness.

He moved through the house with practice ease, checking every corner. Then he found it: an elevator.

“Alright, let’s see what you’re hiding,” he whispered to himself, stepping inside. The buttons didn’t give away much, but the one for the lower floors had a slight sheen. He pressed it, and the elevator hummed to life.

After some minutes, the doors opened, Ekko’s jaw almost dropped.

The place was massive—a hidden bunker, practically glowing under dim, flickering lights. Shelves lined the walls, stacked high with crates, barrels, and boxes. He stepped forward cautiously, his eyes darting around. No cameras. No guards. Just… stuff.

He pried open one of the crates, his breath catching when he saw what was inside: food. Not just any food—fresh, perfectly preserved fruits and vegetables that looked like they’d been plucked from a dream. Apples that gleamed, oranges so vibrant they didn’t seem real.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, barely able to believe it.

But there was no way he could take much tonight. He’d come alone, and hauling this stuff back to Zaun wasn’t exactly subtle.