Arcane: I have Plasmids F*** YEAAAAAAH!!!

"THAT FUCKING BITCH."

"HE STOLE MY THING."

My voice echoes through the pipes like I'm screaming inside a steel coffin. It bounces down the tunnel, loud enough to scare the rats. Good. Let them hear me.

"That bitch Silco took my whole thing and now he's using it to fund his fucking drug empire."

Ekko limps beside me, bleeding through the system-bought first aid job I slapped on him minutes ago. His breathing's uneven. He's holding together, but barely.

"Can you not scream down the tunnels?" he mutters. "I don't feel like getting jumped by more of Silco's goons."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I shoot back. "Were you trying to sneak through the sewer with a bullet in your thigh?"

Ahead of us, Scar walks in silence. Smart guy. Quiet eyes. Moves like someone expecting a sniper round at any second. I respect that.

Eleanor trails behind, silent as death. Her eyes scan every pipe like they've got it out for her.

No boards. No hover tech. Just boots on steel and the occasional sharp inhale every time Ekko steps wrong.

I take a breath. The air's thick—mold, rust, old blood, and the kind of memory that sticks to your lungs.

I look at Ekko again. He's older. Worn. The boy genius is gone. What's left is a leader held together with scraps and adrenaline.

"You okay?" I ask, keeping my voice low.

He glances at me. Then away.

"There's just... too much in my head right now."

"That's fair."

He doesn't ask if I'm okay. Smart. He wouldn't like the answer.

"I'll explain everything," I offer. "Where I went. Why I didn't come back. Just... not now."

"We need to get you somewhere safe first."

He nods, barely.

We keep walking. Tunnels groaning like the city's remembering we exist. Tags line the walls—Sons of Rapture.

The dream didn't die.

It just changed shape.

"How bad is it?" I ask finally. "The Lanes. Zaun."

Ekko doesn't answer right away. That's how I know it's bad.

"Worse than you'd guess," he mutters. "Silco runs everything now. Chem Barons cut deals with him. Shimmer's everywhere."

I say nothing.

Because I knew. Even before I came back, I knew. Zaun doesn't wait for heroes. It chews them up and forgets their names.

"So nothing changed," I whisper. "All that shit I built... Fontaine Futuristics.just ash."

I stop walking.

Lean against a wall. Try to breathe through the fire in my chest.

It doesn't work.

"I didn't change anything."

Ekko turns. Looks at me. Doesn't say you tried. Doesn't say you meant well. He knows me too well for that.

He just watches.

And that hurts more than anything he could've said.

I push off the wall.

Keep walking.

"What about them?" I ask. "Violet. Powder."

Ekko freezes.

Like I jabbed a knife into something still healing.

"I already know," I say softly. "But I need to hear it."

He nods, once. Jaw clenched.

"Vi vanished the night Silco took over. We found Milo's body... but no sign of hers. Or Vander's. Or you."

I close my eyes.If canon means anything, Vi's probably at Stillwater now, breaking bones in her sleep.

Ekko's voice cracks. "Do you know where they are? Are they alive?!"

He looks at me—eyes wide, wet. Desperate for something solid to hold.

I look him dead in the eyes.

"I don't know about Vi. Or Claggor. But Vander..."

I pause.

Then say it—

"Vander's alive."

Ekko's whole body locks up.

His mouth moves, but no sound comes.

"He's... he's alive?" he repeats, barely a whisper.

Tears start spilling down his cheeks.

I nod. "I saw him. I saved him."

He drops to his knees. Shoulders shaking.

I crouch down beside him, hand on his shoulder. Let him cry. Let it hit him.

He needs this.

"But where?" he chokes. "Where is he—?"

"I'll explain soon," I say. "But first, we need to get you to your hideout."

He nods. Scar helps me lift him up. Still stunned.

Scar looks shaken too. But sharp. Focused.

We keep moving.

After a beat, I ask quietly—

"And Powder?"

Ekko doesn't answer right away.

His jaw clenches. Shoulders drop.

That tells me everything.

"What happened to her?"

He exhales.

"She calls herself Jinx now."

I don't breathe.

"She's not the girl you remember," he says. "Silco twisted her. Broke her. She's his now. His monster."

My hands curl into fists.

I don't say anything.

There's nothing to say.

Only the tunnel ahead.

And the fire still burning somewhere in the Lanes.

---

The tunnel finally opens.

Into a massive, echoing chamber—metal platforms, cables, scaffolding wrapped around a tree that shouldn't exist. Its roots claw through the concrete, glowing moss dripping from its bark. At its top, sunlight pours through a hole in the ceiling like a spotlight on the last miracle left in Zaun.

The hideout of the Sons of Rapture.

"...It's beautiful," Eleanor mutters behind me.

I nod. Stunned.

It looked impressive on-screen. But in person?

It's something else.

Scar cups his hands and shouts, "We're back!"

His voice echoes off steel like a war drum.

And then—

Chaos.

People pour in from every angle. The second they see Ekko—bloodied, limping—they rush forward.

"What happened?!"

"Who the hell are they?!"

Hands grab for bandages. Someone tries to check Ekko's pulse. Others eye me and Eleanor like we just crawled out of a toxic waste pit.

She stiffens. One hand floats near her belt. Ready.

I raise both hands. Palms open.

Ekko speaks up. Weak but clear.

"They're with me."

Just three words. But they're enough.

People pause. Hesitate. The heat dies down. Ekko's voice still carries weight here. As it should.

And then—

I see her.

Pink hair. Longer. Face paler. Sleepless. Worn. Still recognizable.

Seraphine.

Fucking Seraphine.

Not the same bright-eyed tailorshop girl. This one's cracked at the edges. And when she sees Ekko—

"Ekko!"

She rushes forward, shoving through the crowd.

Her hands fly to his cheeks. She touches him like she's afraid he'll vanish.

"You're okay," she whispers. "Thank Janna—I thought—"

He smiles weakly. "I'm here."

She hugs him. Tight. Her shoulders shake. He lets her.

Damn, Ekko. I wasn't familiar with your game.

I take a step back. Let them have the moment. Doesn't stop me from rolling my eyes.

Eventually, she lets go.

And her gaze shifts—

To me.

A flicker of recognition hits. Not all at once. Just a flicker. Like déjà vu with teeth.

Her head tilts.

"Do I... know you?"

I stare her down.

Deadpan.

"Fuck no."

She frowns. But doesn't push. Just turns to Eleanor instead.

"And... you are?"

"My enforcer," I say before Eleanor can answer. "Doesn't talk much."

Eleanor nods once. Arms crossed. Calm. Still. Terrifying.

Seraphine doesn't quite relax—but she backs off.

Smart.

We move deeper into the hideout. The infirmary's in the back—bare cot, rusty sink, mismatched cabinets. It'll do.

Eleanor helps lower Ekko down. Starts unwrapping the wound. It's worse than expected. She hisses under her breath but keeps working.

Seraphine hovers nearby.

Pretending to focus on Ekko.

But her eyes keep sliding to me.

Studying.

Squinting.

Like a memory she can't quite place.

She'll figure it out eventually.

I did buy my first suit from her uncle's shop.

Drip immaculate.

I lean back against the wall. Cross my arms.

And watch my friend get patched up in the wreckage of the world we tried to fix.