What Have They Done To Us

The weak, dawning light coming in through the window shined on Ekko's face. With his eyes still closed, he seemed to be deep asleep. Across the room, Jinx lay on her own bed, quietly observing him.

After she'd snapped at him earlier, Ekko had returned with a bowl of hot soup and an apple. He hadn't taken her to eat with the others below—it was obvious why.

Not long after, he had reappeared with Scar, carrying a small bed frame and mattress. Together, they had rearranged the bedroom, shifting furniture until the second bed fit along the opposite wall, the two beds now facing each other.

Scar had left just as quickly as he'd arrived, without uttering a single word.

What a shocker.

As soon as they were alone, Ekko sat on his bed, the mattress caving beneath his weight.

"Are you tired? You slept all day…" His voice was barely a murmur, as though he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"Not really," Jinx replied, her tone dry. She'd been spiraling for hours, replaying the words on her head. Both sides of her battled for attention while she shifted between opinions.

Maybe she'd misunderstood the conversation. She hadn't heard everything, after all.

Or maybe… maybe Ekko really couldn't bear to look at her, despite his words about trying to see the good in her. Maybe there was no good in her. And maybe, just maybe, Ekko was finally realizing that.

Sipping the bowl of soup, she forced herself to focus on its flavors, trying to see if she could identify any of the ingredients. Munching on the apple, she observed his drawings on the wall. She counted the cracks on the ceiling, how many paints he had, the different tools he had scattered across his workbench. Anything she could think of to try and distract herself from her conflicting thoughts.

But now, with him in the room, it felt harder to disguise the storm that was brewing inside of her.

"Well, I'm really tired…" Ekko mumbled, breaking the silence. He tugged off one boot, then the other, and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the foot of the bed.

Jinx immediately turned her gaze anywhere but him.

"Do you mind?" he asked, sliding under the covers and pulling them up to his neck.

"No… Of course not." Jinx flicked on the workbench' small light and turned off the main one. "Do you mind?" she asked back, gesturing at his things.

"Nope. Nothing to hide." Even his voice was tired.

Jinx started messing with everything, rummaging through loose pages, inspecting rusty screws and half-finished projects. She found bits and pieces and immediately felt challenged to craft a tiny bomb from the scraps she found.

A long sigh came from across the room.

"Am I making too much noise? I can go for a walk, if you prefer," she offered, shrugging.

"No!" he said abruptly, almost panicked. "Erm.. Don't worry about me. I'm used to way worse." His voice was steadier; it seemed both of them had noticed how sharp his initial response had been.

Of course not. Wouldn't want mad Jinx wandering around your precious Firelights.

Her intrusive thoughts were relentless and gaining ground now that she could hide her face from him. Not even the makeshift challenge was helping her. She started snooping through his things again, desperate for a distraction, when she picked up a worn-out notebook.

It looked similar to the one he'd left behind—the one she had used to get here. Flipping through its stained pages, she found familiar drawings and symbols scattered throughout.

A dried leaf fell from between the pages, fluttering in slow, lazy arcs before landing softly on the table. It shimmered with iridescent colors, as though someone had dipped it in… Memories of the anomaly hit her like a blow out of nowhere.

She picked up the leaf, holding it close to inspect its mesmerizing duo-chromatic colors. They pulled her deep in, hypnotizing her while she twirled it by its small stem with her fingertips.

"Where'd you find that?" A voice pulled her from the depths of an entrancing dream.

"Huh?" She swiveled in the chair to face him. "This?" she flaunted the leaf with a slight wave. "It was inside that book." Her expression turned serious. "Where'd you find it?"

Ekko propped himself up, dragging his body upright until he was sitting. He rested the back of his head against the wall, gazing through the window, his eyes distant as if he were lost somewhere far away.

"I'd forgotten about that…" he murmured, his voice low. "I found it here, actually. It fell from this tree."

"So you painted it...?"

"No," his brow furrowed. "It's corrupted." His tone matched the seriousness on Jinx's face.

"Corrupted?"

"Yeah… I think that's how it all started… for me, at least." He exhaled heavily, staring deeper into the night.

"Oi! What do you mean, corrupted?" Jinx pressed, her voice sharper, trying to shake him out of it. The question jolted him back to her.

"Erm… So… you remember the anomaly, obviously. Well, I found it here first," he looked vaguely at the room around them. "It was spreading on our tree, and I thought it was sick. From pollution. Or shimmer, you know?" He looked down before continuing. "It was actually Heimerdinger who suspected something first. He told me about everything." His voice had dropped a tone, weighted.

"What? How?! I don't even know where to begin!" Jinx stammered, her words tumbling out as she tried to pick her priorities. "Why was it here?"

"We found out it was because of the Hexgates… They built its core down deep beneath this area."

Of course. She could feel her skin tingle with rage, an itch begging to be scratched with sharp nails until it drew blood.

Ekko noticed the flare of light in her eyes, her bright pink eye glowing with something. "But it's okay," he added quickly, his voice trying to steady her. "It's over. There are no more Hexgates, remember?"

Right. It's over. They're all gone.

Ekko continued. "Heimerdinger explained to me who created it. How, why… everything. And now they're gone. It's over," he reassured. "Viktor and Jayce are dead."

"Jayce?" her head tilted with curiosity.

"Yes. He was another of Heimerdinger's mentees. Why?"

"In the other universe, when Vi died… others died too. Someone named Jayce… and a girl. You think…?"

"Yeah. He was already working on the Hextech at the time."

Jinx dropped the leaf on the table and walked toward her bed. She kicked off her boots and lay back on top of the made bed, staring at the ceiling with her arms crossed under her head.

"That's why they stopped it there, you know? Because of the girl." Her sigh was heavy. "Nobody cared about Vi. Even though she was just a girl too."

Ekko stood up and moved to the workbench, switching off the small light Jinx had forgotten. In the darkness, she observed him as he walked back to his bed. A dim moonlight pierced through the window, its soft glow highlighting the muscles his life had carved into him.

It was ridiculous how much this environment had shaped them. Both of them. Ekko was so much stronger than the other Ekko—if the two of them fought, Little Man wouldn't stand a chance. Just as Powder would crumble like dust against Jinx.

Ekko curled up inside his bed with his face turned toward Jinx.

"They had this big-ass funeral because their families were a big deal. And Vi…"Jinx's voice trailed off as she spoke her thoughts aloud.

"Vi's alive," Ekko whispered.

"You know what I mean." Bitterness crept into her voice. "It's still real for me." She rolled onto her side, turning her back to him and facing the wall.

"I'm sorry…"

"It's fine. You know what's the irony?" She let out a hollow laugh. "I think the girl who died that day was Caitlyn."

"Who?"

"Vi's girlfriend."

"That's… that's really..."

"Yeah, I know. Soulmates, right?" Jinx's voice dripped with cynicism, layered with something else.

Both of them lay there, the silence lingering between them like a heavy blanket.

But her mind was restless.

Time had passed when she heard a soft whisper. "Powder?"

Jinx pretended to be asleep, tired of trying to reconcile who he was. In her mind, a diabolical Ekko stared at her with despise while another, sweeter Ekko whispered with hope, as though he still believed there was good in her.

She heard his soft sigh and the faint rustle of sheets as he shifted his weight.

It's not… It's not what?! It's not love? It's not like that? It's not because of that? It's not her fault… It's not like I could ever love her…

Jinx fell asleep running through all possibilities, darkness filling the room and her mind like a dark cloud.

"It's not like that! Who could ever love a monster like her?!"

Ekko's voice cut through the haze. He was standing with Scar, their tones sharp and unyielding as the door creaked open.

Both of them snapped into defensive stances when they saw her. Scar raised his gun, and she instinctively reached for hers—only to find herself in a flowy white dress, guns nowhere to be found.

Terrified, she stepped back, her wide eyes darting to Ekko. She pleaded silently for him to do something, anything. But his eyes were dark, devoid of any compassion or fondness.

Scar released the gun's safety, his finger curling around the trigger, while Ekko let out a sadistic laugh. "Catching up to the plan, huh?"

Jinx woke up screaming, the loud bang still ringing in her ears. Her heart pounded as if it was trying to break free and run away from the nightmare.

Ekko leaped from his bed in her direction. "Jinx! You okay?" He dropped to his knees and took her hand. She was clammy, sweat covering her just as shame.

"I'm…" She coughed, her throat still tight. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

"A nightmare?" he asked gently.

"Yeah…" It hurt her to admit it. Her eyes dropped down, realizing Ekko's coat was covering her body. He must have woken in the night and covered her while she slept on top of the bed.

"You're not the only one who has nightmares…" he murmured, his eyes shining with an unspoken kindness. She wondered how he could only see his own nightmares when he looked at her.

"It's fine. You can go back to sleep," she muttered, pulling her hand away from his. "I'll try not to scream again." Her wry tone barely masked the lingering unease as she slid back down onto the bed—still using his jacket as a blanket.