Chapter 21 – The Echo That Wears His Face
The door is still there.
Riven doesn't move. He barely breathes.
The whisper—his own voice—comes again.
"Let me in."
His skin crawls. His muscles coil tight. The air feels dense, pressing against him like an unseen weight.
This is a trick. A trap. He knows it.
But the door doesn't disappear.
It waits.
Like it belongs there.
His fingers twitch at his side. He should destroy it—shatter it with every ounce of strength left in him. But some primal part of him whispers:
What if you need it?
What if it's a way out?
Riven grits his teeth, stepping closer. Just a little. Just enough to see—
A shadow shifts under the crack.
His heart stops.
Something is on the other side.
Something waiting.
He tightens his fist. "Who are you?" His voice is hoarse. "What do you want?"
A long silence.
Then—
"I am you."
His stomach knots.
No.
No, that wasn't just his voice.
It was his voice layered with another.
Off-kilter. Hollow. Wrong.
The doorknob rattles.
His pulse slams in his ears. His body moves before his mind does.
He grabs the nearest weapon—a rusted pipe from the wreckage of the hideout—and swings.
Metal collides with wood.
The door splinters.
The whisper turns into a scream.
But not from pain.
From anger.
The door collapses inward—or outward—or in every direction at once.
And then Riven is somewhere else.
---
The City of the Forgotten
Wind howls. The air tastes of dust and old memories.
Riven stands in a place that should not exist.
Buildings tower around him, shifting and fading at the edges, like a half-finished thought. The streets are cracked, littered with remnants of a world that has long since collapsed.
He turns.
There are people.
Figures moving through the mist, their shapes flickering. They do not look at him. They do not speak.
They walk.
Endlessly.
Like echoes of lives that never fully formed.
Riven shudders. This place—it feels familiar.
A liminal space.
A city that exists between.
"This is where they go."
The voice comes from behind him.
Riven whirls, weapon raised—
And stops.
A man stands in the street, shrouded in shifting darkness. Not a shadow. Not quite solid.
And yet—
It has his face.
Not a mirror image. Not a perfect double.
Something fractured.
The figure tilts its head, watching him with eyes that are too empty. Too knowing.
"Do you understand now?" it asks.
Riven swallows hard.
"What is this place?" His voice barely holds steady.
The thing wearing his face gestures at the endless city.
"This is where the forgotten go. The ones erased."
His blood turns to ice.
The Hollow Monarch.
This is what it does.
His fingers tighten around the pipe. "Then why am I here?"
The echo smiles.
It is not a human expression.
"Because you are starting to fade, too."
Riven's breath catches.
No.
No, he's real. He's still here. He has to be.
He takes a step back. The city shifts around him, buildings tilting, streets stretching.
The echo watches.
And then, it takes a step toward him.
"You can fight it."
Another step.
"Or you can let go."
Riven's heart slams against his ribs.
The world twists. The buildings blur. The city shakes—
And then he is falling.