The Ones Who Never Were

The world had grown quieter since the Obsidian Archive.

But it was the kind of quiet one heard before the storm, when the wind stopped not from calm but from dread.

Lin Feng could feel it—the breath of unreality, pressing against the edge of existence like a stranger knocking at the walls of his mind.

The Void Keys remained still inside him.

Too still.

The trio descended back into civilization, arriving at Lion's Crown City to rest, regroup, and seek answers. The city had changed since their last visit. The people bowed more deeply, whispers of "Void Sovereign" echoing through alleys and corridors.

But Lin Feng noticed something off.

Too many people had the same face.

A merchant smiled at him.

Then another merchant two streets over.

Then a soldier.

All with the same face.

"Ruoxi," Lin Feng said, voice low. "Tell me you see this."

Ruoxi's brow furrowed. "What the hell—"

Yue Lian snapped her fingers. "Illusion magic?"

"No," Lin Feng said. "Something worse. They're not real."

The entire district began to blur.

The walls warped. The cobblestones shifted underfoot.

People turned to stare at Lin Feng. All of them. At once.

And then they began to speak. In unison.

"You left us behind, Xuanyin."

"We never lived, but we remember dying."

"You created us."

Lin Feng's eyes narrowed. "These aren't illusions."

Yue Lian finished the thought. "They're possibilities."

Ruoxi drew her blade. "Great. He's haunted by theoretical people now."

A cloaked figure emerged from the center of the square.

His voice was layered. Male, female, child, elder—all at once.

"We are the Sect of Forgotten Truths," he said. "We are the ones who never were, the memories that should not exist."

"You were our master," another voice added.

"You wrote us into the void… and left us there."

Dozens of ghost-like figures appeared. Some looked like cultivators. Others like monsters. Others like nothing that had ever walked the earth.

All of them wore Lin Feng's mark on their foreheads.

"You called us fiction," the leader said. "We will show you how fiction kills."

The echoes moved in sync, wielding techniques Lin Feng never taught—but almost did.

Blades that hummed with incomplete concepts.

Fists coated in broken mantras.

Void moves twisted and corrupted.

Ruoxi cut through three and stumbled. "They're adapting!"

Yue Lian gasped. "They learn as they die!"

Lin Feng growled. "Then we stop letting them die."

He planted his sword.

"Void Law: Cancellation Matrix."

A field surged around them. Anything not anchored by real history began to fade.

But it wasn't enough.

The cloaked leader stepped forward, unaffected.

"I was your greatest student," he whispered. "The one you never had. The one who loved you most."

He pulled back his hood.

And wore Lin Feng's face.

Lin Feng stared at the clone. "You're… me."

"Not a clone," the Echo said. "An alternate. A discarded truth. I was the version of you who chose to stay with the Sect. Who gave everything. Who was forgotten."

Ruoxi looked between them. "Can we fight this one, or is this another therapy session with fists?"

Lin Feng ignored her. "Why now?"

"Because you remembered. And when you did, so did we."

The two fought in silence.

Every move mirrored.

Every step countered.

Blades of void clashed with pulses of fate.

The Echo unleashed "Reverse Creation Art" — a technique that turned every successful hit into a wound on the attacker.

Lin Feng countered with "Total Collapse Feint" — striking at the moments between intentions.

Each bled.

Each gasped.

Each smiled.

"You're strong," the Echo said.

"You're angry," Lin Feng replied.

"I'm you."

Lin Feng sighed. "I know."

He lowered his blade.

The Echo hesitated.

And Lin Feng struck—not to kill, but to bind.

"Void Law: Embrace the Lost."

The Echo cried out, pulled into the Void Key.

Sealed.

Accepted.

Remembered.

Aftermath

The city reformed. The faces changed back. The people became real again.

Ruoxi slumped beside Lin Feng. "You okay?"

"No."

Yue Lian offered a hand. "But you will be."

Lin Feng stood.

Far away, deep underground, the Obsidian Archive cracked again.

A name none of them remembered burned into flame:

"Aeskar."

To be continue...