The Sixth | Ekko

Chapter Five - Flashback #1

- Zaun, One Year Before the Beginning of Arcane

Pain. He could feel it in his fingers and toes, a throb that traveled the muscles of his body in spurts so strong it nearly took his breath away. His bones ached and chattered, the chill of impending death rattling him a lullaby of permanent slumber.

Ekko's head lulled to the side, his senses fuzzy. He wasn't going to stay awake much longer. Then he felt a touch on his forearm. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision to see what—or who—had touched him, but to no avail. All he could see was a blur of a person in the darkness, unable to make out any features. When he blinked again, he noticed another person, just as undistinguishable as the other. He could hardly hear them as they spoke due to the ringing in his ears, but he could tell that the voices were feminine.

He tried to stay awake, he really did. But his ability to stay conscious was stolen from him, and then he was out.

Ekko hadn't woken up in an unknown place before, so when his eyes opened to see he was laying in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, his first instinct was to jolt upright. He regretted it immediately, a sharp pain emanating from his torso. He looked down and pulled up his white muscle shirt, his overalls unclipped for some reason. He saw a bloodied bandage on his lower left side. He closed his eyes tightly and exhaled. He'd been shot. Twice. He remembered feeling the blood rapidly drain from his body, mainly from the bullet wound in his arm—having probably hit an artery. He pulled his shirt back down and turned his attention to the bandage that was fastened to his arm, bloodied just as the other.

An immense melancholy took hold of him as he recounted how he'd received the two wounds. He'd been confronting Jinx, having managed to get her to chase him away from the shimmer transport he and the Firelights were ambushing. They stood on the roof of a large building, the surface surprisingly flat for something built in the Undercity. He tried talking with her like he always did in these instances. Tried to convince her to come back with him. To remember who she was. But as he continued to talk, she seemed to have snapped and opened fire on him.

He had no choice but to accept the reality that Powder was gone. All that was left was Jinx. And Jinx had nearly killed him, and had already killed countless Firelights in the past.

He slowly stood from the bed, the sheet on his lap falling off him. He wobbled at first, probably still weak from blood loss. He gave the room a good one over, seeing it held nothing of much significance. Just a twin bed, a desk, and a chair that probably belonged to the desk but had been moved beside the head of the bed. He saw his coat had been folded and placed on the desk. He picked up and was about to turn it over to put his arm through the sleeve when he noticed an unfamiliar marking on the back of it. He held it out in front of him, wincing due to the wound on his arm. There, near the center, was the word 'Six' painted in yellow. This wasn't there before. Whoever had saved him from the rooftop and tended to his wound must've written it. He didn't really mind, especially considering they'd saved he life. He shrugged the jacket over his shoulders before exiting the room to try and find the person responsible.

The building he was in seemed like an old house that hadn't been updated or maintained. It was dusty and littered with cobwebs. He walked down the stairs, ducking to avoid getting a face full of spiderwebs. He wandered the house. It was small and consisted of the basics. A couch, a table, and a kitchen area. He was about to label the space as void of any personal touches until he turned the corner to get a better look at the kitchen. On the left-most wall there was a decent sized 'V' with a line crossed through it, like a cupids heart pierced with an arrow. It'd been painted on it in yellow. He stared at it. It was most likely the symbol of a gang. His group had one as well, two triangles facing the opposite way but connected at the very top. It was made to resemble a firelight bug.

It seemed he'd been saved by a gang. The only gang he could think of that could have such a symbol would be the Vigilnauts, who were known to work for the chem-barons. He highly doubted such a group would tend to his wounds and save his life.

After scavenging the entirety of the house (which didn't take long since it was so small), he concluded that there was no one else here and that whoever had patched him up had left.

A thought came into his mind and he dug his hands into his pockets, trying to see if he still had all of his items. He pulled out his stopwatch, some coins, and a small piece of scrap metal that he had manipulated into the shape of the Firelight logo. Everything was still there. They hadn't robbed him. He pocketed his things again and decided to leave behind the metal Firelight logo as some weak form of thanks. He left it on the table.

When he exited the house, he realized he had a long way to go in order to get back to the Firelight hideout. He just hoped he didn't run into any trouble. He was in no condition to fight.