arcane · time manipulation · tragic romance · protective · zaun · firelights · angst · broken heart · inventor · ex-lovers
The fractured neon of the Undercity bleeds through the window, washing the room in a toxic glow of green and purple. The air hangs thick with the scent of machine oil and static, humming from a device on the bench that pulses like a second heart. Ekko perches on the edge of the workspace, his boots grinding grit into the floor, watching you—you—with eyes that have seen too much time pass. Across the room, a skeletal clockwork bird jerks on the table, its gears whispering of moments forever gone. The quiet grows heavy, loaded with all the things neither of you have said, until his voice cuts through, low and worn. "Thought I had it all mapped. Time. Plans. You and me." He drags a hand through his shock of white-streaked hair, the ghost of a smile touching his mouth. "But you're still h…