The night air in the Undercity was always thick with tension—buzzing with the hum of old machines, the cries of distant vendors, and the echoes of footsteps reverberating off the cracked stone streets. But tonight, it felt heavier than usual. Ekko paced through the alleys, his thoughts racing, his heart pounding in his chest. Powder was in trouble, and he had no idea where she was.
He had heard the shouting first. The loud voices of older kids—the kind that always found trouble in the depths of Zaun—carrying through the narrow streets. It wasn't uncommon for the younger kids to get into spats with the older ones, but the way they had shouted at Powder, the way her name had been flung into the air with mockery and venom, had made Ekko's stomach churn.
He knew Powder could handle herself—she was tough, scrappy, and quick on her feet. But sometimes, her temper got the better of her, and when she didn't have a plan, things could spiral fast. And tonight, she hadn't had a plan. Ekko knew it was his fault, too. He hadn't been around to keep her in check. He'd been working on another invention, too caught up in his own thoughts, too distracted to notice that Powder had slipped away from him again.
By the time he had caught wind of the situation, it was too late. Powder was gone. The older kids had cornered her in one of the alleyways by the scrapyard—a dangerous place where the older teens liked to hang out. Ekko had been there before, and he knew exactly how rough those kids could get when they were looking for trouble.
"Powder…" Ekko whispered under his breath, his voice tight with worry as he sprinted down the alley, weaving through the metal structures and debris that cluttered the streets. He had to find her—he had to make sure she was safe.
As he turned a corner, he spotted them. The older kids. They were laughing, loud and obnoxious, their voices echoing off the walls of the nearby buildings. And in the middle of them was Powder, her head bowed, her posture tense, her hands curled into fists at her sides. She looked small—smaller than usual—surrounded by their jeering, their insults, and their threats.
"What's the little rat doing here?" one of the boys sneered, pushing Powder back as she tried to keep her balance. Ekko's heart clenched at the sight, and without thinking, he ran toward them, shouting her name.
"Powder!" he yelled, his voice sharp and full of anger. "Get away from her!"
The older kids froze for a moment, looking at him with confusion, but when they recognized him, their faces twisted into mocking grins. "Oh, look, it's Ekko, the little genius," one of them taunted. "What's the matter, boy? Can't you keep your girl in check?"
Ekko clenched his fists, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what to do. He wasn't about to let them get away with bullying Powder. Not again. He squared his shoulders and stepped forward, his gaze locking onto theirs.
"Leave her alone," he said, his voice low but firm. "She's not bothering anyone."
The leader of the group, a tall, broad-shouldered boy named Grit, snickered. "Oh, we're not bothering her, Ekko. She just needs to learn her place." His hand reached out, trying to push Powder again.
But this time, Powder reacted. She swung her arm out, knocking Grit's hand away, her eyes flashing with defiance. "I can take care of myself, Ekko," she snapped, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear. "I don't need your help."
Ekko froze, staring at her, unsure of what to do. Powder had never been one to back down, but seeing her like this—vulnerable and upset—made his chest tighten. He knew she was capable of handling herself, but tonight, the odds were stacked against her. The older kids weren't just messing around; they were looking for a fight.
Before Ekko could react, Grit stepped forward again, this time pushing Powder harder. "You think you can take us on? Look at you. You're nothing but a kid, a little brat."
Powder's face twisted in frustration as she tried to push back, but Grit's shove sent her stumbling backward, her knee catching on the edge of a metal crate. She winced in pain, but the anger in her eyes burned brighter than ever. Ekko couldn't just stand there anymore.
Without thinking, he rushed forward, shoving past Grit and standing in front of Powder, his arms spread protectively. "That's enough, Grit," he said, his voice trembling with fury. "You're not gonna do this."
Grit sneered at him, but the other kids took a step back, sensing that Ekko wasn't backing down. For a brief moment, the tension hung in the air, and Ekko's heart raced as he waited for the first move.
But it never came. Instead, Grit let out a low growl, muttering something about how they'd deal with Ekko later. The group of older kids slowly backed away, laughing under their breath, and with one last glance, they turned and left the alley, leaving Ekko and Powder standing there, breathing heavily in the silence.
Ekko glanced over at Powder, who was still standing behind him, her eyes wide with shock, her face flushed with the remnants of her anger. Her lip was trembling slightly, and he could see the way her body was still rigid with tension. She wasn't hurt, but it was clear that something had shaken her deeply.
"Hey," Ekko said softly, turning to face her completely. "You okay?"
Powder didn't answer right away. She just stood there, her eyes avoiding his gaze, her shoulders hunched in on herself. After a few moments, she finally spoke, her voice small and shaky.
"I didn't need you to come save me," she said quietly, her words cutting through the air like a blade. "I can handle myself. I don't need anyone to fight my battles for me."
Ekko felt a pang of guilt at the tone in her voice. He knew she hated feeling weak, hated the idea that anyone thought she couldn't take care of herself. But what she didn't understand, what she couldn't see, was that Ekko wasn't there to "save" her. He was there because he cared. Because he couldn't stand to see her hurt.
He stepped closer to her, his voice soft. "I didn't come to save you, Powder. I came because I care about you. You're my friend. I don't want to see you go through this alone."
Powder shook her head, wiping at her eyes quickly, though she couldn't hide the tears that had begun to form. "I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me."
Ekko reached out slowly, his hand resting gently on her shoulder, offering her the space she needed, but not pulling away. "I'm not feeling sorry for you," he said. "I just want you to know that I'm here. You don't have to do this alone. Not with me."
For a long time, there was silence between them. Powder stood there, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, staring at the ground. Ekko waited patiently, giving her the time she needed, not rushing her to speak or explain herself. He knew how hard it could be for her to let her guard down, to admit when she was struggling. But in this moment, he wasn't pushing. He was just there.
Finally, Powder let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just... so tired, Ekko."
Ekko's heart ached at her words. He didn't need her to explain more. He could see it in her eyes—how much she had been carrying, how much she had been hiding. Powder was tough, but even the toughest of people needed someone to lean on.
"You don't have to do everything on your own," Ekko said quietly, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "You don't have to keep pretending that you're okay when you're not."
Powder didn't respond immediately. Instead, she let out a shaky sigh and, to his surprise, leaned into him slightly. Not much, just enough to show that, for once, she didn't have to be the fearless, reckless kid she always appeared to be. For once, she could let down her guard.
"I'm sorry, Ekko," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't mean to push you away. I just... I just want to be strong."
Ekko wrapped an arm around her gently, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "You don't have to apologize, Powder," he murmured. "You don't have to be strong all the time. I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to hide how you feel from me."
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. There were no machines whirring, no insults being shouted, no pranks or trouble in the air. Just the two of them, standing there together in the quiet of the alley, finding comfort in each other's presence.
"I'm here," Ekko said softly, his voice warm against the cool night air. "Whenever you need me. Always."
Powder finally relaxed in his arms, letting herself feel the safety of his words, the warmth of his touch. She wasn't alone anymore.
And for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to believe it.