Chapter 26 – The Throne of the Forgotten

Riven's body ached as he forced himself to stand.

The fall should have killed him.

It hadn't.

Vex groaned beside him, stirring as the dust settled. They weren't in the Hollow City anymore. That much was clear. The sky above was… wrong. Vast and endless, but shifting like it wasn't real. The ground beneath them felt solid, but only in the way that a dream felt solid before waking.

And ahead—the tower.

It rose impossibly high, disappearing into the sky's distortions.

"Where the hell are we?" Vex muttered, voice hoarse.

Riven didn't answer. He already knew.

The Monarch had led them here.

They were standing at the foot of its throne.

---

The Dead City

As they moved forward, the ruins of a lost city stretched out before them.

Not like the Hollow City—this place wasn't flickering, wasn't trapped in an endless loop. It was dead. Silent. Frozen in time.

Statues lined the streets, each one eerily lifelike.

Riven slowed as they passed a row of them. Too detailed. Too much expression frozen in stone.

Then he saw one with its mouth open mid-scream.

His stomach twisted.

These weren't statues.

They were people.

Vex cursed under his breath. "What the hell did this?"

Riven already knew the answer.

The Monarch hadn't just erased these people.

It had preserved them.

Trapped them here, in the shadow of its throne.

For what purpose?

He wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

---

The Whispering Path

The closer they got to the tower, the worse the whispers became.

Not the Echoes—something else.

It wasn't just voices. It was memories.

Things Riven had forgotten.

He saw flashes of battles that never happened. People he had never met but somehow knew. A version of himself that had made different choices.

The worst part?

Some of them felt more real than his actual life.

He clenched his fists, shaking the visions away.

Vex glanced at him. "You okay?"

"No."

Vex didn't press further. He just nodded. Because he wasn't okay either.

They both felt it.

Reality was slipping.

And at the center of it all…

The Monarch's Throne awaited.

---

The Guardian

They reached the steps of the tower.

And something was waiting for them.

A figure stood at the entrance. Tall. Wrapped in flowing, dark robes that flickered like shadows. A mask covered their face—smooth, featureless, with only two hollow eye sockets.

It spoke.

"You should not have come here."

Riven tensed.

Vex reached for his gun. "Too late for that."

The figure tilted its head. Slowly. Deliberately.

"Turn back."

Riven stepped forward. "Not happening."

A long silence.

Then, the figure moved.

---

The First Trial

The Guardian attacked without warning.

Fast—too fast.

Riven barely had time to react before a blade of pure shadow sliced through the air. He dodged, barely, feeling the cold as it passed inches from his skin.

Vex fired—but the bullets never hit.

They stopped mid-air, frozen in time.

The Guardian turned, flicking a hand, and the bullets reversed direction.

Vex barely dodged as his own shots came back at him.

"Okay," he muttered. "That's new."

Riven didn't hesitate. He lunged, fists glowing with energy—striking at the Guardian's mask.

The blow landed.

But the mask didn't break.

Instead—Riven did.

Pain exploded through his mind. Not physical. Something deeper.

A crack in his memory.

He staggered back, gasping. He had felt something leave him—something stolen. A piece of himself, gone.

The Guardian's voice was cold.

"You do not belong here."

And then, it raised its blade again.

---

A Fight Against Time

Riven had fought monsters. He had fought villains.

But he had never fought something like this.

Every hit he took wasn't just pain—it was loss.

The Guardian's strikes erased pieces of him. Every wound felt like a memory being pulled away, a part of his existence being rewritten.

Vex was struggling too. His bullets were useless. His tech wasn't responding.

"This thing is cheating," he growled.

Riven grit his teeth. "So we cheat back."

He switched tactics.

Instead of fighting directly, he let go.

Let the world shift.

He stopped resisting the strange logic of this place.

And suddenly—he moved like the Guardian.

Faster. Untouchable.

He dodged the next strike, twisting at the last second in a way that shouldn't have been possible.

The Guardian hesitated.

That was the opening Riven needed.

He struck.

This time—not with force.

With will.

His fist connected not with the Guardian's body, but with the space around it.

And the Guardian faltered.

---

The Mask Cracks

A sharp sound echoed through the tower's entrance.

The Guardian stumbled back.

The mask—smooth and unbreakable—now had a fracture.

A single, thin crack running down the center.

The figure let out a sound—something between a gasp and a growl. Its form flickered.

Then, without another word—it vanished.

Riven exhaled sharply, gripping his knees. His head was spinning. He didn't even know what he had done.

Vex stepped beside him, breathing hard.

"Did we just… win?"

Riven looked at the cracked mask, now lying abandoned on the ground.

He had a feeling the answer wasn't that simple.

But there was no time to think.

Because the entrance to the Monarch's Throne was now open.

And something inside…

was waiting.