Undertow | Ekko x Reader

The room smelled of rust and mold. 

You sat on the cold floor, shoulders aching as your arms strained against the ropes pinning your wrists behind you. They'd tied you to a thick wooden pole, the rough, splintered surface digging into your skin every time you shifted. 

The air was thick, pressing against your lungs, as though even the room itself wanted to suffocate you. 

Caught.

The word rang in your head, sharp and cutting. You'd been caught. Dragged out of that sewage pipe like a rat, roped up and left here by those masked Firelights—by him. 

Your jaw clenched at the memory of the boy, the calm confidence in his voice grating against your chest when he spoke. Like he already had you figured out. Like you were nothing. 

And you? You'd proven him right. You'd let exhaustion sink its claws into you, and now here you were—trapped. 

You let out a frustrated growl, jerking your wrists against the ropes, the fibers biting into your skin. "Stupid," you muttered under your breath, voice sharp with anger. You pulled harder, the burn in your shoulders only fueling your frustration. You let them catch you. Two days of running on no sleep, of clawing your way through Zaun's muck and shadows, and you'd fallen. 

The one thing you were supposed to be good at—slipping through the cracks, escaping—and you'd failed. 

You slammed the back of your head against the pole, the dull thud echoing in the empty room.

But as the echoes faded, a quieter thought crept in, cutting deeper than the ropes at your wrists. 

What are you even escaping for?

The question settled in your chest like a stone, heavier with every second. You slumped forward against the pole, breath shaky as you stared at the dark floor beneath you. 

You had no home. No family waiting for you. Silco's plans for Zaun—it was starting to feel like smoke and mirrors now, wasn't it? You'd buried the doubt for so long, ignored the cracks in his promises, but you couldn't unsee it now. 

And what happens when he realizes you're doubting him? 

The thought sent a chill through you, sharp and sobering. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing down the tightness building in your throat. 

You'll die for that thought.

Your breathing slowed, the fight momentarily leaving your body as the truth pinned you down. What was the point? You'd spent so much time running, fighting to stay ahead, but what did you have left? 

And then, just as the dark started to close in, a face surfaced in your mind. 

Jinx. 

Her voice came back to you—bright, excited, stumbling over itself as she babbled about her big Progress Day plan, blue eyes wide with pride. 

Your chest twisted sharply. You'd brushed her off. Your only friend—the only light you had in all this—and you'd pushed her aside, too focused on chasing Silco's approval. Shame curled hot and heavy in your stomach. 

She was waiting for you. 

You need to hear about her plan, her fireworks.

The fire flared back to life inside you, slow but steady. You clenched your fists against the ropes, eyes narrowing as you scanned the room for anything—anything—to get yourself free. 

And then you saw it. 

A shard of glass, jagged and sharp, lying far across the floor. It glimmered faintly in the low light streaming through the cracked window.