Undertow | Ekko x Reader

The moment the rough burlap sack slipped back over your head, your frustration bubbled up like steam in a cracked kettle.

"Really? Again?" you huffed, trying to slow your breathing. "Is this necessary? I'm not gonna bite."

A soft snort. Ekko didn't stop walking. "You've got a loud mouth."

"And you've got poor manners!" you shot back, your voice echoing faintly in whatever space you had been led into. You stumbled slightly when your boots struck uneven ground, and Ekko's firm hand at your elbow was the only thing keeping you upright. Great. Not only had you been kidnapped—again—but you were blind to your surroundings, at the mercy of the boy leading you forward.

"Where are we even going?" you pushed, exasperated.

Ekko didn't answer. If anything, the silence that followed was more infuriating than his earlier banter. You wanted to make him hear it—the irritation rumbling in your chest, the fire at your heels that didn't wane—but then your attention snagged elsewhere.

The sound.

Thud, thud, thud.

The hollow rhythm of your boots had changed, softened. The surface beneath you was... different. Wooden? You were certain of it—there was a warmth to each step, an odd give to the earth you walked on. But not like wooden planks in some rickety shack. No. This was something else entirely. Something alive.

Then, a breeze—soft and cool—brushed against you, tugging at your clothes. The air carried with it a whisper. A faint but unmistakable sound.

Leaves. Rustling leaves.

Your brow furrowed beneath the sack. "Hold on," you murmured, straining your ears, "is that... a tree?"

Ekko slowed, his grip loosening just enough for you to know he was looking at you, considering. His reply came slow, edged with quiet humor. "Maybe you're smarter than you look."

You bristled. "Excuse me?"

"Relax," he said, pulling you along again. "Keep up."

Your mind, despite itself, wandered back to that sound. Trees didn't grow in the Undercity. There were no roots that could push through the sludge, no sunlight that could weave past Zaun's ceilings of smoke and steel. And yet here you were, walking on... wood. Your heart thudded against your ribs. If there was a tree—a real, living tree—what kind of place was this?

Before you could ask more, Ekko's steps slowed. A door groaned open, hinges creaking faintly, and the air shifted. It was warmer here, quieter. You heard the click of a door closing behind you. A pause. Then the rough pull of the sack from your head.

Blinking hard against the sudden light, you squinted and took a shaky breath, the weight of your surroundings flooding your senses all at once.

It was a bathroom. But not just any bathroom.

Your eyes widened, and you spun around, mouth parting in awe. The walls were wood—smooth, carved with care, the deep grain running like veins beneath the polished surface. The floor hummed with a faint warmth that felt alive, and above, light pooled in through gaps that let the softest golden glow spill over the space. And then, in a corner near the small, creaking sink, vines stretched lazily along the baseboards, their emerald leaves brushing against the walls as though they belonged.

A tree. A tree in Zaun.

You turned in a slow circle, your hands trailing against the wooden wall as though it might disappear beneath your touch. "How...?" Your voice was barely above a whisper. "How does this even exist here? In the Undercity?"