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

Vex stood before them, real but wrong.

His face was the same—scarred, sharp, familiar—but his eyes held something else. Something hollow.

Like he had seen the truth of this place and barely survived it.

Riven's fingers twitched at his side, instinct urging him to move. To do something.

Vera narrowed her eyes. "You vanished. We saw it happen."

Vex let out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah? You think I didn't notice?"

His voice was rougher. Like he had been talking to ghosts for too long.

He looked past them, scanning the flickering city with weary familiarity. "How long has it been?"

Riven hesitated. "A few hours. Maybe less."

Something shifted in Vex's expression.

Because for him—it hadn't been hours.

Vex led them deeper into the ruins, keeping his steps measured, his eyes always moving.

"The city isn't real," he muttered. "Not completely. It's a copy. A half-formed version of somewhere else."

Vera kept close. "A copy of what?"

Because maybe even he didn't know.

Instead, he gestured toward the silent Echoes lingering in the streets. Their forms flickered, unfinished. Their faces were twisted in expressions of half-remembered emotions.

"They used to be people," Vex said. "Heroes. Civilians. Anyone who got too close to the Monarch's reach."

Riven swallowed hard. "They're… what? Trapped?"

"They're what's left after the Monarch is done."

Riven glanced back at the Echoes—shapeless, drifting, watching.

A shiver ran down his spine. "If they're what's left, then why are you still…" He hesitated. "You?"

His fingers twitched at his side, like he wasn't sure if he should be moving them. Like he wasn't sure if he could.

Like he had seen something that shouldn't be there.

"Riven," he said carefully, too carefully. "How long have you felt it?"

Because he knew exactly what Vex was talking about.

The weight of something hollow pressing against his mind. The sensation that something had stayed behind when they escaped the Monarch's grasp.

Chapter 13: The Hollow Survivor