Chapter 30: The Man Who Wasn't Me

The darkness swallowed Riven whole.

Not just the kind that came with closed eyes and shallow breath. No—this was absolute. A nothingness that stretched in every direction, weightless and endless, as if he'd been unmade.

But he could still feel.

His pulse was wrong, his heartbeat skipping like a corrupted signal. His breath was shallow, ragged, but the air felt thick—too thick—like he was drowning in something unseen.

And then—

"He's waking up."

A voice, distorted. Not Vera. Not Vex.

Someone else.

"Run the sequence again."

Riven gasped as light tore through the void.

---

His body lurched, consciousness snapping into place like a jagged puzzle. He felt cold metal under his back, sharp restraints digging into his wrists. A machine hummed nearby, its soft beeping syncing with the frantic rhythm of his heart.

He tried to move—couldn't.

His head was foggy, memories slipping through his grasp like sand through cracked fingers.

Where was he?

What had happened?

And then—

He saw himself.

Standing over the table.

Staring down at him.

His own face looked back at him with a mixture of curiosity and... something deeper. Something wrong.

"Interesting," the other Riven murmured.

The way he spoke—the way his lips barely moved—made Riven's stomach twist.

"This time, you woke up on your own."

---

Riven struggled against the restraints. "Who the hell are you?"

The other him tilted his head. "You already know."

His voice was too calm. Too steady.

Riven's throat was dry. "You're the clone."

A slow blink. Then a small, knowing smile.

"Am I?"

The weight of those two words settled over Riven's chest like lead.

Because the other him wasn't struggling. He wasn't strapped down. He wasn't gasping for air, wasn't trying to piece together his memories like shattered glass.

He was in control.

And Riven—wasn't.

---

The lights overhead flickered. The monitors beeped faster.

Somewhere behind the glass, a shadow moved. Watching.

The feeling of being observed crept down Riven's spine.

This wasn't just a lab.

This was a prison.

Or worse—

A testing ground.

"How many times do you think you've been here?" the other Riven asked. His voice was patient, almost... pitying.

Riven clenched his jaw. "Enough to know I need to get the hell out."

The other him exhaled, like a parent dealing with a stubborn child.

"You're still fighting. That's good. It means you haven't broken yet."

His eyes darkened.

"But you will."

---

The restraints released.

Riven barely had time to react before he was yanked upright—but his body didn't move.

His limbs stayed limp, his muscles unresponsive. He was standing, but not under his own power.

His reflection in the polished steel walls didn't match his movements.

The other Riven stepped closer. His gaze was sharp, dissecting, as if looking at a faulty experiment.

"This is the part where you start questioning," he said smoothly. "The part where the fear creeps in."

His fingers brushed against Riven's chest—right over his heartbeat.

"Is it really yours?"

Riven shoved him back—

Or he tried to.

His arm didn't move.

His body didn't obey.

He was trapped in his own skin.

And the other him...

Was wearing the control.

---

"You're starting to understand, aren't you?"

The other Riven's expression softened.

"You're not the first."

The room shifted.

The walls peeled back, revealing hundreds of chambers—each with a figure inside.

Each one was Riven.

Some were screaming, pounding against the glass. Others were limp, unmoving. A few were strapped to tables, mid-experiment, their bodies hooked up to machines feeding them memories.

And at the far end of the room, a door flickered in and out of existence—a Threshold.

The exit.

Maybe.

If he could still trust what was real.

---

"This is what the Monarch does," the other Riven murmured. He turned, gesturing to the endless versions of them.

"It doesn't just erase you."

His eyes locked onto Riven's.

"It replaces you."

The weight of those words sent a bolt of ice through Riven's veins.

"You're not real, Sentinel."

The other Riven stepped closer.

"You never were."

---

The static in Riven's mind screamed.

He forced his body to move, to fight, to reclaim himself—

And this time, his muscles responded.

But not fast enough.

The other Riven lunged.

Their bodies collided, and suddenly, the world fractured apart—

And for one terrifying second, Riven didn't know which of them was real.

Because his memories weren't his anymore.

They were shared.

And one of them—

Had to die.