Chapter 18 – "The Cracks Begin"
The next day, Riven wakes with a sense of dread that he can't shake. The morning light filters through the curtains, but the warmth feels like it's closing in on him, pressing against his skin in a way that isn't comforting. It feels like the walls are inching closer, like the world is holding its breath.
His thoughts are clouded, tangled in the illusion, but a small part of him—the real part—claws at the edges of this false existence. Something's wrong, he knows it. The man at the restaurant. The look in his eyes. There's more to this world than what he's been fed, and it's getting harder to ignore.
Emery is in the kitchen, humming as she prepares breakfast. The soft sound of her voice, the familiar rhythm of her movements, makes him want to forget. To pretend. But he can't. Not anymore.
He gets up slowly, pulling on a pair of jeans and a shirt. There's a dull ache in his chest, a longing for something real, something that isn't this perfect facsimile of life. He glances at the mirror again, searching for the cracks he knows are there. His reflection stares back at him, flawless, but his mind tells him it's all wrong.
As he walks into the kitchen, Emery smiles at him, a smile that makes his heart ache, and for a moment, he falters. She's perfect. Too perfect. But that's the point, isn't it?
"Good morning," she says cheerfully, placing a plate of pancakes in front of him. The scent of syrup fills the air. "I made your favorite. I thought you might need it after everything that happened yesterday."
Riven doesn't respond right away. He just watches her, trying to grasp onto something solid in this swirling sea of unreality. His eyes fall to the edge of the table, where a newspaper is resting—its headline reads "Global Peace Reached: A New Era Begins."
The words blur in front of him. It's all so easy. So clean. So… perfect. Too perfect.
Without thinking, his fingers reach for the newspaper, and his breath catches as he scans the article. It speaks of peace, prosperity, the end of all conflicts, and a future without war. But there's something unsettling about it—something too neatly tied together.
His hand trembles as he folds the paper back down. It's all wrong. Too tidy. The world outside doesn't fit into this clean narrative. He knows it doesn't. The Hollow Monarch has twisted reality before, but this—this is something else. This isn't just manipulation. This is the erasure of everything that ever was.
Emery watches him quietly, sensing his tension. "What's wrong, Riven?"
He forces a smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes. "Nothing," he says, his voice low. "Just thinking about everything."
She reaches out, placing her hand on his. Her touch is warm, grounding him, but it also sends a ripple of unease through him. "We'll get through this," she says, her eyes full of care. "We always do."
It's those words that make something snap inside him. She says it like she believes it, like this world—the world he's trapped in—is real. But it isn't. And the longer he plays along, the harder it will be to break free.
Riven stands abruptly, pushing back from the table. "I need some air," he mutters.
Emery blinks in surprise, but then she nods, her smile still gentle. "Of course. Just be careful, okay?"
He doesn't respond. He grabs his coat from the hook by the door and steps out into the cool morning air.
---
The streets outside are bustling with activity. People go about their business, smiling, chatting, living lives that seem untouched by the darkness of the world he knows. Riven walks through the crowd, his feet moving on autopilot, his mind racing. There's a strange stillness in the air, a sense of normalcy that feels more like a trap than a comfort.
He passes a small café and stops. A strange, almost imperceptible flicker catches his eye. A man sitting by the window, drinking coffee, has a face that's too familiar. It's a face he doesn't remember—yet there's something about it that sends a jolt of recognition through him.
The man's gaze lifts, and their eyes meet. The world around Riven shudders.
For a split second, the café's cheerful chatter fades into silence. The man's expression doesn't change, but his eyes—there's a warning there, a silent plea that says everything Riven has been trying to deny.
The world glitches. The edges of the café blur, like static on a broken screen. The people around him freeze, their faces locked in smiles, their bodies frozen mid-motion. The world shakes.
Riven's breath hitches. It's happening again. The cracks in the illusion are becoming wider. The Monarch is messing with the fabric of reality. And someone—or something—else is trying to keep him from noticing.
Before he can react, the man in the café stands, his eyes still locked on Riven, and in a smooth, almost unnatural movement, he disappears through the door.
Riven runs after him, his heart pounding in his chest, but by the time he reaches the door, the man is gone. The world around him snaps back into focus, the café once again full of life, the people moving like they were never frozen at all. Everything is back to normal. Too normal.
His mind races. What just happened? Was that another glitch? Another break in the world that's being rewritten around him? Or was it something more? Was that man a warning? A sign?
He swallows hard, trying to make sense of it all. He's slipping—he can feel it. The line between reality and illusion is becoming harder to see.
He has to find answers. He has to find a way out.
---
That night, as Riven lies in bed, the weight of everything presses down on him. The darkness feels thicker tonight, like it's pulling him under, but he can't escape it. Emery sleeps beside him, her breath steady, peaceful.
Riven turns over, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts churning. The cracks in this false life are widening. And he's running out of time to figure out what's real before it's too late.
The Monarch is still watching. It's still twisting the world around him, and it's only a matter of time before the last of the cracks disappear, leaving him nothing but a ghost in someone else's life.
And the more he unravels, the more he realizes—he's not just fighting for his life. He's fighting for everything he's ever known.