The Sixth | Ekko

Chapter Seven - Flashback #2, Part 1

—Zaun, Seventeen Years Ago

It was a failed uprising that started the deterioration of their family. The eldest son, Marco, had died a brutal death on the bridge that connected the undercity to Piltover; his guts spilt, limbs shattered. He painted the pavement red, a grotesque sight for anyone to see, let alone a mother. But it would be her who would find him, and it would ignite a bout of absolute disparity and horror within her—one that would never get the chance to be extinguished.

Momo found her dangling from the ceiling fan of their home that night, her scream causing Mylo, her other older brother of four years, to rush to the living room at the sound of her distress. There, he saw their mother with a noose around her neck, slowly swaying back and forth. His body went taut, something in his chest collapsing into his intestines.

It was Momo's sob that broke him out of it, but only enough to move in front of her and pull her into his arms, blocking the insidious sight from his little sister's eyes. 

From that moment on, it was just Momo, Mylo, and their father Quint.

"They're callin' it the day of ash," Quint would sneer one night to one of his drinking buddies that was visiting. They sat around the kitchen table, piles of cards in front of them accompanied by open alcohol containers.

"Vander really thought he'd win, eh?" his buddy would say, tossing a card out onto the table.

"That bastard doesn't know shit."

Quint was never a gentle person. Before, he spent a lot of nights picking fights at Vander's bar, which eventually led to his being banned from the place. He had a thing for alcohol, the liquid seeming to hold more importance to him than his own family. He'd returned home late most nights, which ultimately led to arguments breaking out between him and his wife.

Marco was always the one to comfort his siblings whenever their parents fought. He was the eldest, and the kindest too. Had a heart of gold, their ma often said. There were many nights that Momo snuck into his bed in the early hours of the morning. All three siblings shared a room, but something about being in such proximity as her older brother seemed to scare away any fears and nightmares she might've had.

Now that Marco was gone, Mylo was faced with the challenge of taking Marco's place. He had to take care of himself, his sister, and protect her from their father's rage.

It seemed the death of his eldest son and his wife had caused Quint's mental state to begin to wilt, his brain like a flower that was deprived of sunlight. His drinking picked up, his aggression spiking. He became violent towards his children, causing them to dread the times he'd return home after a night out.

One night, he didn't return. Which could've been seen as a blessing, if it weren't for the fact that Mylo and Momo were handed down the financial burden their father had left behind. After the deaths of their brother and mother, Quint had stopped paying the rent, and the landlord had had enough. The siblings managed to stay in the apartment for almost one month after their father's disappearance before their home got invaded by the landlord and his buddies.

Vander, the bar owner who was a burly man with a beard, found them that night. They hadn't strayed very far, their home having been just around the corner from The Last Drop. He'd already taken in three other children at that point, having found Violet, Powder, and Claggor on the bridge after the failed uprising, their parents dead, both families irrevocably broken.

Mylo and Claggor were quick to become best friends, while Momo struggled with even speaking to anyone, let alone making friends. It took her months to start speaking again, with a lot of coaxing from Mylo.