Chapter Text
The factory loomed in the dim light of the undercity like a great, metal skeleton, its pipes and catwalks weaving a labyrinthine maze overhead. Powder hugged the shadows as she crept through the upper levels, her boots brushing the grated floor beneath her. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of chemicals, mingling with the faint metallic tang of rust and the oily residue that stuck to every surface. Beneath her footsteps, the rhythmic clanking of machinery echoed— with every mechanical whir came another ounce of Shimmer to be abused.
The Firelights were counting on her to gather intel— floor plans, vulnerabilities, anything to make their next raid faster and smoother. Less bloody, they’d said. Clean. But nothing in Zaun was ever clean, and Powder had learned long ago that hastily formed plans often led to never-ending, tormenting regrets.
She gripped the camera dangling from a strap around her, making sure it was still there, the feel of its metal frame reassured her.
Her breath fogged in the cool, stale air as she moved. Every creak of the catwalk sent a spark of anxiety through her nerves. Her camera dangled from its strap, swaying with her movements. It felt heavier than it should— maybe because of what it held.
The job was simple enough: a few quick shots of the machinery, the exits, and the workers’ patrol routes. She’d planned it out meticulously, down to the second. But planning didn’t stop the way her stomach twisted every time a shadow moved in her periphery or the way her pulse quickened at every stray sound.
The catwalk groaned behind her— just the whisper of a movement set her instincts ablaze. Powder froze mid-step, her ears straining. She barely had time to turn before a hand shot out, clamping firmly around her arm.
“Funny finding you here, Blue.”
The voice was low, familiar, and laced with an easy confidence that sent her heart plummeting into her stomach. The camera strap slipped off her shoulder, clattering against the metal walkway with a sound that echoed far too loudly.
She spun around, her chest tightening. Ekko’s face came into view, his signature smirk tugging at his lips. The faint purple glow rising from the depths of the factory caught the chalk hourglass symbol painted over his face, making him look almost otherworldly.
“Ekko!” she blurted, her voice a little too high-pitched, a little too fast. She tried to laugh, but it came out shaky. “You scared me! Couldn’t help yourself, huh? Always pouncing on me like that.”
His smirk widened, though his eyes flicked down to the fallen camera. “You know me, Pow. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes.” His hand remained on her arm, firm but not unkind. His grip felt solid. Too solid. She tried to ignore the way her pulse hammered beneath his fingers.
“What’s with the fancy new toy?” he asked, nodding toward the camera.
She started to sweat. She forced herself to kneel casually, scooping up the camera as if it were nothing. “This?” she said, holding it up with a grin she hoped looked convincing. “It’s a camera. Stole it from some fancy shop topside. Thought I’d, you know, snap some pictures of the graffiti around here. Artsy stuff.”
Ekko tilted his head, his grin softening into something more curious as he combed a hand through his bundled locks. “Saw some punk drawing Silco kissing a pig earlier, knocked his ass out.” Ekko chuckled to himself. He reached for the camera, plucking it from her hands before she could react.
Her stomach dropped. “Careful with that!” she said quickly, her voice sharper than intended.
He ignored her protest, turning the camera over in his hands. “Been a while since I’ve seen one of these,” he murmured. His thumb hovered over the playback button, and Powder’s breath caught in her throat. “Got any good shots yet?”
“Wait!” she exclaimed, lunging forward to snatch it back. She cradled the camera, her hands trembling just slightly. “I’ve got a couple of pictures on there I don’t want you to see yet.”
Ekko raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting. He stepped closer, his presence filling the narrow walkway. “What’s so special about these pictures, Pow?”
Her mind raced, scrambling for an explanation, a distraction— anything to throw him off the scent. She plastered on a coy smile and took a step closer, placing a hand on his chest. “You know, Ekko,” she purred, her fingers tracing lazy circles over the fabric of his shirt, “some of those photos I took just for you.”
His brow furrowed slightly, but her touch seemed to work its magic. His suspicion eased, replaced by a lopsided grin. “For me, huh?” His voice softened, the playful edge returning.
She leaned in, her breath brushing against his cheek. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” she whispered, slipping the camera into her bag as she spoke. Her other hand curled around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, digging her fingers into the red scarf that was never not draped around him.
Ekko’s grin widened, his arms wrapping around her waist. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Blue,” he murmured before closing the distance between them.
The kiss was greedy, insistent, and it sent a shiver down her spine. For a moment, the world around them faded— the factory, the Firelights, the secrets of her espionage weighing her down. All that mattered was his warmth, his touch, the way he held her like she was a lifeline, the only thing keeping him grounded in this world.
When they broke apart, their breaths mingling in the cold air, Ekko’s expression softened. “You’ve been distant lately,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing against her cheek, making a short detour to press the pad of his finger against her bottom lip. “What’s going on?”
Powder’s smile faltered. She glanced away, her chest tightening. “It’s nothing,” she said, too quickly. “Just... a lot on my mind.”
Ekko pulled back slightly, his expression softening as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I miss her too, you know,” he said quietly, as if reading her thoughts. “Vi.”
Powder’s breath hitched. She looked away, her eyes glistening as she stared between the small holes of the grated floor. “Sometimes I wonder,” she whispered, “if she’d even recognize me, recognize us. If she’d be proud of what we’ve become.”
“She’d be proud of you, Pow,” Ekko said firmly, cupping her cheek and tilting her gaze away from the ground. Their eyes met as Powder leaned into his touch. “We survived. We fought. Whatever it is, you never have to deal with it alone.”
His words hit her like a punch to the gut. She wanted to believe him, but the weight of her secrets pressed down on her as the faces of every Firelight faded into her vision. She forced a smile, pressing her cheek against the palm of his hand, reciprocating his touch. “Thanks, mister.”
He kissed her again, this time slower, softer, as if trying to reassure her without words. The easy tempo of the kiss ended with a sigh out of his mouth and into hers. As they pulled apart, Powder rested her forehead against his before pulling back, her shaky voice grew curious. “What are you up to here? Silco got you running some errand?”
He scoffed. “Yeah, you could call it that.” He reached a hand over his shoulder, his fingers grazing the cold steel hilt of his bat resting on his back. “Apparently someone’s been snitching.” The air grew colder as Powder swallowed a lump in her throat.
“Some blue-belly topside knows about this factory. Too high and mighty for Marcus’ orders, apparently.” He brought his hand back to her waist, his index finger drawing circles on the small of her back. “Sevika wasn’t available, so I’m here to teach some sell-out a lesson.” Ekko said with a sneer.
Powder took a deep breath. It wasn’t her, she thought to herself. She might have been a snitch, but she wasn’t helping topside, she would never work for the enforcers. This did intrigue her, though. Marcus was to blame for Piltover’s blind eye. If someone actually got between him and Silco… something to look into later.
“Good luck, little man. I’ll see you back at the hideout, right?” As much as she wanted to stay with him, she had to get him off her trail, or things could get messy.
Ekko grinned, giving her butt a gentle squeeze. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Blue. I wanna see those pictures.”
She laughed, the sound hollow in her ears as she turned and slipped away, her bag clutched tightly to her side. The camera inside felt heavier than ever, threatening to drag her down.
As she stepped into the shadows, her smile faded. “Focus,” she muttered to herself, pulling out her notepad to scribble a few hurried notes on the factory’s layout. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t afford to.
Ekko’s words bounced around the walls of her head. “You don’t have to deal with it alone.”
But she did.
The Firelight base was a sanctuary amidst the chaos of Zaun. Nestled around a large hollowed-out tree, its branches stretched upward through a massive circular shaft. Bioluminescent moths clung to the bark, casting a soft, otherworldly glow that illuminated the spiraling staircase carved into the trunk. Firelights, they called them, so when they settled on the tree as a base of operations, they knew exactly what to call themselves. Powder paused halfway up, her hand brushing against the smooth wood. The air here was different— cleaner, lighter. She inhaled, letting it fill her lungs. For a moment, she could almost pretend she was topside.
Powder lingered for a moment, her gaze sweeping across the intricate lattice of rope bridges and pulley systems that connected the homes and platforms. It was a patchwork of ingenuity, a testament to the resilience of the people who called this place home. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves far above, carrying with it the faint scent of sap and the soft hum of distant machinery. Her fingers trailed over the bark, tracing the natural grooves as if drawing strength from the ancient tree itself. This place wasn’t just a sanctuary— it was alive, breathing hope into a world that so often suffocated it. Yet, as her hand stilled, she couldn’t help but feel like an intruder, a shadow among the light.
From the top of the staircase, she looked down at the bustling community below. Children darted between makeshift homes carved into the tree’s trunk, their laughter echoing through the base. Adults gathered in small groups, their voices a hum of conversation punctuated by bursts of warm laughter. It was a rare scene in Zaun: life that wasn’t defined by survival alone.
Powder’s lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. This was her safe haven, the place she and Scar had built from the ashes of so much loss. But even here, the weight of her secrets pressed heavily on her chest. She turned away, ascending the last few steps to the chamber at the heart of the tree.
The workroom was dimly lit, the glow of an old lantern flickering against the walls. Scar stood at the center, his tall, imposing frame hunched over a map of the undercity. His long, clawed fingers traced routes and marked potential targets with precise, deliberate movements. He didn’t look up as the door creaked open.
“You’re back,” he said, his gravelly voice low and steady.
Powder stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. The faint warmth she’d felt earlier vanished, replaced by the cold reality of her double life. “Yeah,” she murmured, slipping the bag off her shoulder and setting it on the table. “I’ve got intel on their secondary Shimmer factory.”
Scar’s sharp eyes flicked up, scanning her face with practiced precision. “Trouble?” he asked, his gaze narrowing.
Powder hesitated, her hand trembling as she pulled out the camera. She popped it open and slid the film reel onto the table, the small metallic sound loud in the quiet room. “Ekko,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “He was there.”
Scar straightened, his shadow stretching across the table. “Did he suspect anything?”
She shook her head quickly, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her unease. “No. I don’t think so. But he’s... he’s suspicious. I can feel it.” She forced a shaky smile, the expression doing little to mask the worry in her eyes. “He probably just thinks I’m a terrible liar.”
Scar studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, his touch both grounding and reassuring. “Nothing is ever easy, is it, Powder?”
Her chest tightened, and she looked away, her voice barely audible. “No, it’s not.” She swallowed hard, her thoughts drifting to those kids outside, playing with an innocence she couldn’t help but miss. “But it’s worth it. For everyone we’ve lost to that poison.” She reached into her bag, pulling out a small notepad and laying it beside the film. “I sketched a layout of the factory. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I could do.”
Scar’s expression darkened as he examined the map, his eyes narrowing at the crude lines and annotations. “Good work,” he said gruffly, though his tone carried a note of approval. “This will help.”
Powder bit her lip, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “I wish I could do more,” she admitted. “But Ekko’s been watching me lately. Like he knows something’s off.”
Scar’s grip on her shoulder tightened briefly before he released her. “You’re doing enough, Powder. Don’t forget that.” His voice was firm, but there was a rare softness in his tone, an acknowledgment of the burden she carried that Scar left unspoken.
His words caught her off guard, and for a moment, the weight on her chest eased. “Thanks, Scar,” she said softly. “You and the rest of the Firelights, you mean so much to me.”
Scar nodded, his gaze steady. “Yeah. Let’s get to work.”
The hours slipped by as they bent over the map, marking weak points and planning their next move. The faint hum of the base faded into the background, replaced by the focused silence of strategy. Powder’s mind raced, torn between the mission at hand and the ever-present threat of discovery.
When the first rays of morning light filtered through the cracks in the wood, she startled at the sound of birds chirping. Her head snapped up, her heart sinking as realization struck.
“Shit, shit!” she muttered, scrambling to her feet.
Scar’s hand instinctively went to the knife at his hip. “What’s wrong?”
“Ekko!” she blurted, snatching up her camera. “He was expecting me back last night. He’s already suspicious— this’ll make it worse.” She shoved the camera into her bag, her movements frantic. “I have to go.”
Scar’s eyes followed her, his expression dark. “Powder,” he said, his voice low and warning. “You can’t keep this up. Juggling two lives— it’s going to blow up in your face.”
She hesitated at the door, his words hanging in the air like a weight. “I don’t have a choice,” she said, her voice barely audible. Without another word, she slipped out of the room, her footsteps quick and quiet.
The morning air stung her cheeks as she sprinted through the winding streets of Zaun, her mind a whirlwind of fear and determination. She clutched the bag tightly, her thoughts racing.
She had to keep the two halves of her life from colliding— for Ekko, for the Firelights, and for herself.
Powder fumbled in her bag as she approached the steel door, double-checking that the camera was empty. The door groaned as she pushed it open, revealing the glow of neon lights spilling into the dim space. A symphony of mechanical whirs and faint electrical hums filled the air, the oh-so-familiar soundtrack of their sanctuary. Their hideout was tucked away in the fissures, a massive chasm where a defunct ventilation system loomed like a forgotten relic. Four enormous fan blades stretched outward from the center, growing wider as they met the walls of the chasm. Powder’s boots clanged against the metal as she stepped onto the blade they used as their entrance. Each blade held a piece of their lives. One was home to their makeshift bedroom: a sagging couch nestled under a patchwork blanket tent, its fabric adorned with stars and moons crudely stitched in. A small lantern flickered beside it, casting soft, comforting light. Another blade housed a wooden tub, its surface weathered but functional, rigged with pipes that tapped into a rainwater collection system. The third blade lay empty, a quiet, echoing space that always felt a little too vast and hollow. The heart of the hideout had to be the center. The fan’s infrastructure cradled a circular workbench, a chaotic shrine where they had shared a love of inventing. Blueprints and sketches overlapped in messy piles, half-built gadgets and scrap metal littered the surface, and a few stuffed animals from their childhood peeked out from the clutter. Powder’s fingers brushed over one— a worn bunny with button eyes and a missing ear. It smelled faintly of oil and metal, a mix that had come to mean ‘home.’
She let out a slow breath, taking it all in. This wasn’t just a hideout; it was theirs. A place of safety and creation, where they could be more than the roles Zaun demanded of them. A small smile tugged at her lips as she set her bag down and stepped further inside.
Ekko sat on the couch, his back to the door, idly turning a small metal gear between his fingers. The soft clink of metal echoed in the quiet. "Welcome back, Blue," he said without looking up. His tone was light, but she could feel the tension beneath it.
Powder hesitated, her heart hammering in her chest. "Ekko, hey," she spoke, forcing her voice to stay steady as she crossed the room. She dropped her bag onto the workbench in the center of the fan. "I’m sorry. I just… got carried away with stuff. Lost track of time."
He glanced over his shoulder, the metal gear still in his hand. His smile was faint, not quite reaching his eyes. "It’s fine," he said evenly. "Figured you’d be busy." But the air between them felt heavy.
Powder shifted on her feet, her eyes darting around the room. "You know me," she said with a shaky laugh. "Always running Silco’s errands." She crossed the room and sank onto the couch beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder.
He didn’t pull away. Instead, his arm rested lightly around her shoulders, his touch grounding her. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice low. "But you’ve been… weird lately." He tilted his head to look at her, his dark eyes searching hers. "What’s going on, Powder?"
Her heart skipped, but she forced a grin. "Just stress, I guess," she said, her voice too light, too casual. "Silco’s got me making gadgets, and I’ve had a few close calls with that gang— Firelights, or whatever they call themselves."
His jaw tightened, and she felt his grip on her shoulder tense. "Those kids playing hero," he said, his tone edged with frustration. "They’re going to get themselves killed if they keep this up."
Powder hesitated, her eyes dropping to her hands. "I don’t know," she said softly. "They’re hopeful. They think they can actually change things. Sometimes I wonder…" She trailed off, biting her lip.
"Wonder what?" Ekko asked, his voice quieter now.
She looked up at him, her expression vulnerable. "If we’re really making a difference," she admitted. "Or if we’re just… surviving."
He frowned, his hand squeezing her shoulder gently. "We are making a difference," he said firmly. "Silco’s the only one who’s ever looked out for us. We owe him everything."
Powder nodded, but her gaze flickered toward the canvas bag resting on the workbench. "Yeah," she whispered. "You’re right."
Ekko followed her gaze, his brow furrowing. "Powder," he said, his tone soft but insistent. "If there’s something you’re not telling me."
She turned back to him, a weak smile on her lips. "’M fine, really," she said quickly, leaning into him a little more, resting her head on his chest. "Just tired."
He didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, his arm steady around her. For now, the silence between them spoke louder than words.
"You mentioned something about photos earlier," he said, his voice rumbling through his chest as she lay against him. "Lemme see." His hand moved from her shoulder to give her waist a pinch before settling on her rear.
She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sheesh, someone's eager," she teased, her cheeks flushed. "It's not quite ready for the grand reveal. But I promise, once it's done, you'll love it. Promise."
He chuckled, his eyes warm with affection as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, cupping her chin gently. "You always did love a spectacle," he said with a smile.
She felt the warmth of his hand against her cool skin and took comfort in his touch. It felt like he was a fireplace in a sleepy Freljord cabin, her mind desperately ignoring the ever-growing blizzard screaming between the cracks of the wooden walls that kept her safe. "You know me too well," she replied, her voice a little too hot. She paused, looking around the cluttered hideout, her eyes lingering on the half-built devices that told stories of their collaboration, their connection. "But enough about that. Tell me about last night. Caught your snitch?"
Ekko’s expression grew more relaxed as he leaned back into the couch, the tension in his body easing slightly. "Yeah," he said, his voice a mix of boredom and pride. "Some worthless punk who thought he could play both sides. Silco wasn't happy, but he's always happy when the rats come to heel." His hand continued to play with the gear, turning it over and over. "Was messier than I hoped."
Powder nodded, trying to keep her focus on his words and not the cold fear that frosted over her stomach. The image of the last mess Ekko had ‘cleaned up’ crawled its way into her mind. There was a reason Silco valued the boy so highly, after all. "You've always been good at keeping the peace," she murmured, stroking his arm lightly.
His eyes met hers, brown into blue, and he leaned in, capturing her in a kiss that was both easing and demanding. She melted into it, her hands sliding up to his neck. When they pulled apart, his eyes bore into hers, taking in every drop of emotion that fell from them. "I do it for you, Blue," he said, his voice soft with a hint of worry.
She swallowed hard, her throat tight. "I know," she whispered, her eyes shimmering with festering tears. She leaned in to kiss him again, hoping to drown out the voice in her head that screamed of the deception she was spinning. The warmth of his lips and the roughness of his skin beneath her fingertips made her feel alive.
Ekko's arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer as they sank into each other. His hand found the small of her back, and he felt the tension in her body as she pressed against him. There was something different about the way he kissed her, his usually confident movements were replaced with a slight tremble. His eyes dove into hers again as they broke apart, trying to find the truth buried in those two cerulean seas.
Her heart pounded in her chest, a drumline of guilt and love playing a violent rhythm. Ekko's gaze locked onto hers, steady and unrelenting, and it felt like time itself was slipping away— each second pulling her closer to the edge of revelation. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his, hoping the closeness would steady her. But her thoughts churned, faster than the flickering neon currents that buzzed in the city above them. She had to tell him. The truth clawed at her throat, but the fear of losing him silenced her. Instead, she kissed him again, her lips trembling against his, a wordless plea he couldn’t understand. As their kiss grew more urgent, she felt a tear slip down her cheek, tracing the contour of her jaw and disappearing into the fabric of his shirt. She didn't dare tell him about the planned raid, about the lives they might save, the lives that could be lost, including their own. Her mind swirled with the images of the factory’s layout, the potential explosives they'd set, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, they could put an end to Shimmer production without casualties. She knew it was a pipe dream, but she clung to it fiercely. "Ekko," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I need to tell you something."
He brushed the tear away with his thumb, his touch gentle, almost reverent. "You can tell me anything," he assured her, his voice a low quake of sincerity. He sat up straighter, his eyes never leaving hers as he waited for her confession, the gear between his fingers left forgotten.
Panic set in, the walls of her head were closing in on her brain, pressure building. This was a mistake, if she told him, it would ruin everything. Everything they built would come tumbling down. She had to think quickly. "I… uh, was thinking of dyeing my hair. Get a small streak of pink in my bangs, for Vi." She swayed her head, letting her bangs fall over half her face, hiding a scared frown.
Ekko stared at her for a moment. Her mind felt drowned with thoughts, and increasing loudness as she heard Mylo's voice, screaming at her, laughing at her horrible excuse. "Shit. You made me think this was a life-or-death confession, Pow." Ekko laughed. "You're crazy, girl."
She couldn't help but grin at his teasing. Her head's grip on itself loosened. "It's just, you know, I miss her a lot. And I want to do something to remember her by." Her eyes studied his, reading them for any signs of doubt or suspicion. She hoped he'd buy her hastily made-up story.
He smirked, a warmth spreading through his chest at her attempt to lighten the mood. "I think it would look cute. I mean, you can't get any cuter, but if you could…" His voice trailed off as he leaned in, his breath hot on her face.
"It's just… I see her in everything I do," Powder said, her voice quivering. "In every fight, in every little thing I put together. It's like she's guiding me." She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "But sometimes I feel like I'm losing her, forgetting what she looked like, what she sounded like. And I hate that."
Ekko brought his lips to her forehead, his kiss was so gentle it was almost as if he thought she might break. “We have each other, Blue,” his voice was soft and harsh at the same time, like a gust of wind that washed over her.
Powder's breath hitched. She felt the warmth of his affection, but it couldn't melt away the coldness of her fear. She knew she'd have to tell him the truth eventually, just not yet, some other time. She pushed her head into the crook of his neck, sprawling out on top of him, finding the perfect position to close her eyes in. "I could nap," she whispered, her voice small.
Ekko wrapped his arms around her, feeling the tension in her shoulders. "I could too." His voice was soft, kind. He stroked her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. The only time he felt truly at peace was when she was in his arms. "Love you, Pow-Pow."
As she lay against him, her eyes fluttering shut, the lines between memory and imagination blurred. She could almost see Vi’s silhouette, pink hair catching the light as she turned to extend an arm. Powder reached for her, but the figure dissolved into shadow, replaced by Ekko’s steady presence, the rhythmic beat of his heart. "Not yet," she murmured to herself into the fabric of his jacket, barely audible. Ekko’s hand stilled in her hair, his brow furrowing, but he said nothing. The dream was slipping through her fingers, but the truth lingered, waiting for its chance to shatter everything.