I want to say I found out he was 20 by the end, you're roughly his age

He's a little lost and hurt

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

The war ended and it's been a couple months since Viktor's and Jayce's disappearances and supposed deaths. It's been...hard. After going to the alternate universe and seeing Powder and then coming back and Jinx had...changed, just to loose her again? It's enough to break someone. Someone like Ekko...he looks down to the little paper slip in his hand and sighs as he looks up and to his right. He can't deal with being in a crowd right now so regrettably he's over a few blocks and up on top of a building. He watches as the glowing and burning papers lift into the sky, " ." He mutters the word and shakes his head, his gaze falling to his lap, more specifically a glove in his hand.

He brushes his thumb over the fabric, over the chaotic painted designs on it's surface, Jinx's handiwork. "You're not dead...you can't be...you always did like putting on a show," he raises the glove to his forehead and lets out a stuttering breath. He lowers his hand and chuckles, "what is wrong with me?" He shakes his head again, crumpling the piece of paper in his hand.