Chapter Four : A Fragile Spark.

THE FIRST STEP hurts. So does the second, and third, until Wren's entire body is an aching limb desperately clinging to the skin of her teeth.

Her tired legs carry her forward, a bundle of forgotten bones, torn apart and hazardously put back together. The mind, ever the evil contraption, constantly whirring and shasking and changing, echoes Uncle Hyde's words in the basin of Wren's head.

His voice still cuts into her like a scalpel, all the rage and pain and misfortune that he has shared with her over the years, a burden they must carry to keep themselves afloat, not too much, not too little.

You've always been a creature of failure, Wren. His poison tongue swirls against the worlds like a heavy gin and a bad habit, cold and cruel. Why stop now?

They sear her thoughts, clinging like the rot that saturates Zaun's deepest corners, and Wren is stuck between what's left of herself and all the pieces Uncle Hyde has taken from her.

Trembling, shuddering, Wren sways against herself, letting the cold air warp her body into Zaun itself. Her shoulder slices against an open pipe, and Wren tumbles even further.

The sharp pain drags her back to the present, but it's distant — Just another layer of biting discomfort in a body and mind that won't stop unraveling. She leans against the cold wall of a nearby alley ( Zaun is only alley, truthfully ), na lets her breath evade her in a sharp exhale.

"Guess I'm good for one thing." She mutters to the emptiness around her. It's jarring how empty this side of the Undercity is. "Breaking apart."

Her fingers brush against the small vial tucked into her jacket pocket. Even now, she hasn't thought to leave it behind, safely wrapped against her marred clothes, a forever reminder of how much Wren is willing to lose just to feel. Shimmer is always there, patient and unwavering, gearing its thick poison promises of a reprieve from the constant ache gnawing at her insides.

( Even though it only leaves a bigger ache in its absence ).

The relief is fleeting. The itch beneath her skin returns faster and sharper each time, demanding more of a body that no longer has anything to give. Shimmer doesn't soothe — It suffocates. Wren knows this, but she is too far gone to stop.

The alleyway she sinks into smells like decay and sour rain, the walls slick with a grime that infests every corner of Wren's already soiled clothes.

( There, away from judging eyes and endless noise, away from the false truths and empty homes, she lets herself fall apart ).

Wren pulls the vial free, examining the dull, fleeting glow that barely burns in the cold dark. The liquid inside shifts like kaleidoscopic mercury, hypnotic and full of promises it has no intention of keeping, only a burn that will soothe simply to take.

Hunger claws at her, constant and cruel, holding Wren by the neck and pulling her by the teeth. Her body screams for relief, her thoughts clouded by one insidious whisper.

One dose, she tells herself. Just one.

Her hand shakes as she uncorks the vial, her grip faltering under the weight of the choice before her. There are no needles in the steep dark, only a wanting tongue and a death sentence in the making.

Wren hates herself for this weakness, hates that no matter how many times she promises to quit, she always comes crawling back. But she is too far gone to care, too crazed to think rationally.

( When has she ever done so, anyway? )

The laugh that cuts through the alley isn't in her head. No figment of her drug addled imagination, because the vial sifts in her grip, still there, still full. Teetering between her choice of self control or the descent to monstrosity.

"You gonna keep poisoning yourself, or do I have to step in?"

Her head snaps up, vial halfway to her lips. Ekko stands at the mouth of the alley, leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed. His eyes are sharp, dark pools of obsidian against the night sky as he watches Wren struggle inwardly. He looks amused, but something akin to disgust sifts in his face.

"Don't you have some hero stuff to do?" Wren mocks, her voice a shallow, harmless hiss.

The vial returns to her pocket, unused.

"Already did it," The boy brags, stepping closer. His tone is light, almost conversational, but there's a quiet steel beneath it. "Saw you wandering around. Figured I'd stick around, make sure you didn't die somewhere."

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." Is his witty response.

Wren's laugh is bitter, hollow. "Why do you give a shit? Last I checked, you're not my fucking babysitter."

"No," Ekko says quietly, weighing his answer against his quick tongue. The blaze in his eyes softens, just enough to make her stomach twist, acid pooling in her gut. "But I remember who you used to be. And I don't think this is her."

The words hit harder than she expects, burrowing under her skin. She wants to be upset, but finds there's nothing she can say but subdue a rage that doesn't feel like hers. Wren clenches her fists, nails digging into her palms. "You don't know me."

"I knew enough." Ekko says simply. "And what I don't know, I can always learn."

It's the simplicity of it that sets Wren's teeth on edge. He makes it sound so easy, so straightforward, like clawing your way back from the brink is something you can just decide to do. Like there's no greater force weighing him down, striking him when he's weak and dragging him back into the depths of the muck.

Her heart yearns to close on the boy and rip every semblance of hope from his warm eyes, but she has long mastered the art of self-control, or at the very least as best as one can when they're teetering on the edge of ruination.

There lingers a dull ache somewhere beneath her anger, an unwelcome flicker of admiration. Wren despises Ekko for holding onto something she's long since let slip through her fingers, hates that he can still dream in a city that only knows how to take and take and take.

And yet, part of her is jealous — Ekko has yet to be devoured by the bleeding desire to be of use, swallowed whole the way she has, that he still dares to believe in something better.

"Come on," Ekko says after a long silence, and he unhooks himself from his position against the alley walls.

"Where?" Wren hates the small spark of interest that lingers in her voice, blurred only barely by the coldness that she has long embraced.

"Anywhere but here."

It isn't an order, and that makes it harder to ignore. Wren hesitates, her hand brushing the vial in her pocket. Its weight is familiar, comforting in its predictability. But what does she have to lose? Hyde has made it clear she's disposable, and staying here will only lead to the same dead ends.

So she follows, each step reluctant, the shadows of her addiction trailing close behind.
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                     THE FIRELIGHTS' HIDEOUT is nothing like Uncle Hyde's lab.

A great contrast to the empty halls and marred conversations, the dull outside yells and fights that never seem to permeate through the cold interior of the lab, the Firelight's hideout is more or a real home than Uncle Hyde's lab will ever be.

Here, the air buzzes with cracking energy, alive with the hum of makeshift machinery and quiet laughter. The people move with purpose, their hands deft as they piece together weapons, maps, and strange contraptions. They hold sparks of what Wren know knows is true joy, unafraid of the filth that coats the Undercity. It's hard to believe that this place is even in Zaun.

It feels alive. And Wren hates it.

She hates how is everything she had once dreamed for, how it hacks her into someone who is more fit to live amongst people she has become so similar to in her attempts to get away from it all. Wren no longer belongs with untainted humans, not when she is the very black paint that brushes and splatters on their pristine canvases.

The ache for Shimmer grows sharper here, the craving a desperate scream to drown out the noise and the memories clawing their way to the surface. Wren has the horrifying realization that she likes it here, but she will never belong.

( She doesn't want to belong ).

"You don't have to stay," Ekko chimes in as he allows the girl to take in the unusual sight, as though reading her thoughts. He stands especially proud when he gestures to the tree he and the other Firelights have struggled so hard to grow; A monument to their dreams of peace.

"I'm not staying," Wren snaps in annoyance.

"Okay." The boy shrugs. It's not dismissal, but not acceptance either.

His nonchalance throws her off. Wren narrows her eyes at him, searching his bright face for any sign of the lies and hidden expressions she is so used to, but all she finds is quiet amusement.

"You're just here to see," He looks around, and adds, "What we're about. No pressure."

No pressure. Wren grimaces. Right.

The teenage girl keeps to the edges, watching the Firelights with wary eyes. They're so sickeningly earnest. Even as they move with exhaustion and pain etched into their faces, they carry themselves with a purpose that feels foreign.

It's both infuriating and mesmerizing, and Wren hates it altogether.

Ekko doesn't hover, though she can feel his presence like a steady pulse. He gives her space but doesn't leave her alone — A frustrating, unspoken reminder that he cares enough to stick around.

She knows part of him is concerned for what she will do when left unchecked. Ekko has already seen what she's become, so there is nothing to hide other than her own thoughts.

Wren isn't sure what she hates more, his pity or the way it softens the edges of her own self-loathing.

Later, as the Firelights drift off to their posts, or to rest or enjoy their day, Wren finds herself sitting on the edge of a makeshift platform, staring out at Zaun's dim, flickering lights. The city stretches before her, vast and unfeeling, a graveyard of dreams she's long since buried.

It feels different from where she sits, the larger than life tree filling the air with a cleanliness unbeknownst to many Undercity residents. The soft glow of the fireflies light the tunnels that surround the hideout, and Wren feels subdued by their gentle presence.

"Still think you're fine?" Ekko asks, his tone teasing but soft. He seems to have that habit of sneaking up on people, his footsteps too light for a clumsy teenage boy of eighteen.

Wren doesn't answer right away. Her hand drifts to her pocket, pulling out the vial of Shimmer. She holds it between her fingers, the liquid inside catching the faint glow of the secret city.

"I don't know," she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper. She feels too vulnerable, too exposed. "I don't know if I can stop."

"You don't have to figure it out tonight," The boy comforts, sitting beside her. He doesn't crowd her, doesn't try to fix her. He just sits, solid and steady, like he's prepared to wait as long as it takes.

For a moment, Wren just stares at the vial. She doesn't pour it out, much to Ekko's disapproval. Not yet. But she doesn't take it, either.

The Firelights' world isn't hers, she knows that the way she has memorized the nature of her own heartbeat against her ribcage. But as Wren sits beside Ekko, the city's glow reflected in his hopeful eyes, she feels the faintest ember stir inside her — A fragile, unfamiliar thing that refuses to die.

Wren doesn't want to be saved. She has made peace that she will never be human enough to live without the wary shadow of death crawling behind her, yet never monster enough to change things apart from instilling fear.

She doesn't want to be saved, but it has long passed the days of wanting to be sentient. Wren cannot stand still for any longer, she cannot hold fast to both sides and pray to make it out unscathed. She knows she will never be anything more than a broken weapon, and she will be used until there is nothing more to use her for.

Surely the Firelights won't be any different.

Wren doesn't want to be saved, but she is afraid to drown in her own blood, her own mistakes, her own heart.

( Then does Wren truly not want to be saved? ).

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‎ ‎‎♱ AUTHOR'S NOTE !

another anything update ?!? y'all must be sick of me now but this is probably the most active i've been in uploading chapters other than my record of almost updating a week straight^^

looking at these updates i'm starting to realize this fic is way more fast paced than i intended it to be... wren and ekko (i need to come up w a name for them) are progressing way faster than i want them to but at the same time i think it's because they previously knew each other ?? idk

ekko is literally js a chill guy (this is totally not because tweaking his personality a bit allowed for me to make the plot go a bit smoother) and i love him very much xx

i didn't want to do 3 consecutive updates so im pre writing the chapters for when i don't have motivation but still want u guys to enjoy the story so this will probably be out either a day after chapter 3 or a few more days

this chap mostly focuses on wren (like most chaps are shaping out to be) and her struggle w shimmer and also how different ekko's life has been compared to hers up till now! my writing is lacking something that i can't put my finger on (probably creativity) but for now this will do LMAOO

another shorter chapter (around 2.5k words) because i need to get at least 10 chapters for the first vol (s1) to them begin the second volume (s2), which will probably have a lot more content since ekko is actually a prevalent character in that season ^^

also, i was brainstorming ideas on how to write ekko's jump into the alternate dimension in s2 and was wondering whether you guys would prefer either :

1) i write interactions from his pov, where he sees the alternate timeline where he and wren grew up closer and she is 'normal' OR

2) i write his 'disappearance' in wren's pov (angst) and show how she has gradually grown to lean on him etc etc OR

3) alternate between both 1&2 ^^

lmk guys !!

besides that, opinions on the story so far?? im curious to know how u guys feel about the characters and i'm also open to any suggestions !!

pls lmk if there are any mistakes in the spelling or anything so i can fix it !

also don't b afraid to vote or comment, i will probably (very likely) reply!!!! and if you don't understand something, plsplspls lmk!! i want yall to fully understand what's going on

happy reads!

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─── ANNIE