Wokji_Dimfwina

Superheroes were supposed to be immortalized. Legends. Symbols of hope.

But one by one, they vanished. Erased from history, from memory—like they never existed at all.

Riven Steele, once the world’s strongest protector, awakens from a decades-long stasis to find reality itself rejecting heroes. No statues, no stories—only fragmented echoes of a world that refuses to remember them. A new generation of unstable, dying heroes rises in their place, their powers unraveling, their existence hanging by a thread.

At the heart of it all is a whispered name: The Hollow Monarch. A being that doesn’t kill. Doesn’t destroy. It simply erases.

As Riven fights to uncover the truth, he begins to unravel, his own reflection warping, his memories twisting. The Monarch’s influence isn’t just erasing heroes—it’s rewriting them. And when it finally speaks to him, it says the one thing that chills him to his core:

"You were never real."

Now, Riven must lead the last surviving heroes in a battle not just for survival—but to prove they should exist at all. Because if they fail, history itself will erase them forever.

And this time, there will be no one left to remember.

THE LAST SENTINEL

The copy's hands—his hands—were wrapped around his throat, cold and unyielding. It wasn't just strangling him.

Every time he struggled, it countered. Every time he twisted, it anticipated. Like it had done this before.

"Stop fighting," the copy murmured, tightening its grip. "It's already over."

Riven's vision blurred at the edges. Darkness crept in.

With sheer force of will, he drove his knee up into the copy's ribs. It didn't even flinch. Instead, it smiled.

Like it was waiting for him to do that.

A bright, searing flash of light exploded between them. The copy flinched, momentarily distracted.

And Riven felt the hands around his throat vanish.

He stumbled back, coughing violently.

"Didn't know you were into strangling yourself, Steele. Should I be concerned?"

Riven's heart slammed into his ribs.

Vera stood on the fire escape above, pulse rifle in hand. Smoke curled from the barrel.

Riven didn't hesitate. He rolled away just as she fired again.

The copy jerked as the blast ripped through its chest.

For a moment, Riven thought it was over.

Then the thing shuddered… and laughed.

"Bullets won't work on me," it whispered.

Vera clicked her tongue. "Oh, I hate when they say that."

Riven's blood turned to ice. "They?"

The words hit Riven like a hammer.

The implications were worse than anything he'd imagined.

And most importantly—was he already one of them?

His stomach twisted. His mind rebelled against the thought.

But the copy saw the doubt. And it fed on it.

"How would you even know?" it whispered. "How can you be sure you're still the real one?"

The world distorted, as if something was about to pull them in.

Vera's voice snapped him out of it.

She fired another round, this time at the ground. The impact shattered the space between them, giving Riven the opening he needed.

He dove forward, rolling to his feet. Vera grabbed his arm and yanked him into motion.

Chapter 9: Fractured Selves