Undertow | Ekko x Reader

49

You grip Alyssandra's hand a little tighter. 

This is your only shot at finding Ekko. It has to work. Because if it doesn't... 

You don't know what you'll do.

The commune was like something out of a fever dream—beautiful in a way that made your skin crawl. As you walked past the wrought-iron lanterns and arching structures that looked more grown than built, you felt Alyssandra's small hand tighten around yours. The people here moved with eerie serenity, draped in flowing cloths of muted blues and purples. Their faces shimmered, catching the light in a way that didn't seem natural. It wasn't sweat or paint—no, something about their very skin had an unnatural gleam, as if they had been touched by something beyond human.

Your gaze swept across them, studying the way they moved, the way they watched you out of the corners of their eyes. What was this place? A cult? A sanctuary? It didn't matter. What mattered was getting answers.

Alyssandra tugged insistently at your hand, urging you forward. You followed her lead, your steps measured as you approached the structure at the back of the commune. A massive, dome-like sphere sat at the center, glistening with panels of colored glass and latticework that curled like reaching vines. The air around it felt heavier, charged with something you couldn't name. It made your instincts scream to turn around.

You didn't like this place.

It gave you the creeps.

But you swallowed that unease down, focusing instead on what had brought you here—Ekko. If you were right, if the rumors were true, then the man inside had answers. Maybe even the ones you'd been chasing for months.

You stopped just outside the structure, assessing it. It felt wrong, being here, stepping into a place that seemed untouched by time, but you forced yourself forward. You turned down to Alyssandra, your voice low but firm.

"Stay behind me when we go in, alright?"

She nodded, her dark braid swaying with the motion. You watched her for a second longer, then reached into your clothing, drawing the dagger you'd kept hidden against your chest. The cool metal was a comfort in your palm. With one last breath, you stepped inside.

The air was thick, humming with an unnatural stillness.

At the center of the space stood a man.

He was unlike anyone you'd ever seen. Tall and lean, draped in dark blue fabric that wrapped around him like a scholar's robe. His skin bore the same strange sheen as the others outside, but it ran deeper—etched into his face, his throat, his hand. His fingers were twisted into something unnatural, golden filigree webbing through the pale flesh.

He turned slowly as if he had already known you were coming. His gaze flickered first to you, then to the dagger in your grip, before settling on Alyssandra.

His voice was smooth, measured. "Can I help you?"

You didn't answer immediately, stepping further into the room.

"You're the healer I've been hearing about," you said finally.

He inclined his head in the smallest of nods.

You scoffed. "And let me guess, you also invented Hextech?"

Something flickered in his expression at that.

A shadow of something unreadable. Then, at last, he spoke.

"That is true."

That was all you needed.