The void was absolute.
There was no light, no horizon, no sky above or ground below. There was only a vast black fog stretching farther than Riven's eyes could wander. And yet, somehow, he could see.
That wasn't the most shocking part.
He remembered the Aberrant tearing his leg clean off.The pain, the blood and the scream that ripped out of him before the collapsing structure swallowed everything.
And yet somehow he stood. Behind
His gaze dropped in disbelief. His leg was whole again. No mangled flesh. No pain tearing at the edges of his mind. His chest rose and fell steadily, unbothered by the burning ache that had clung to him ever since that damned place.
"What the hell is going on here…?" His voice cracked, echoing strangely in the emptiness. The sound carried for a breath before the silence smothered it. "I can still breathe?"
He looked over himself and found himself naked and surprisingly unscarred. The blood, the cuts, the half-healed wounds were gone. He flexed his fingers, pressed his palm to his chest. It's smooth, perfect and unmarried.
But for some reason Riven didn't feel any relief.
The floor beneath him rippled like pressed ink when he took a step, disturbed by his weight, but beyond that there was nothing. Only the endless fog. Behind
"Where the fuck… am I?" His words trembled, equal parts question and plea. His eyes darted left and right searching for anything, any edge or even a sign before remembering something. "Wait where's the Aberrant? What happened to—"
The memory struck him like a hammer. The collapsing structure. That impossible light erupting and detonating in his face. The world itself shrieking as it shattered.
And the scream.
His lips parted. "Was that… me?"
He remembered it all, the sensation of light ripping through his flesh and bone, disintegrating him and the Deviant together. Nothing left but the brilliance of annihilation.
And now… this. Behind
He walked aimlessly without direction. For how long, he couldn't say. Minutes. Hours. Days. The void was timeless and the fog appeared truly to be endless.
Was this it? True death? No heaven above. No hell below. Just nothing?.
He sank down, plopping onto the black haze that passed for ground. It shifted beneath him, swirling faintly under the weight of his despair.
"So this is it," he muttered, voice rough. "Sixteen years. Haven't even lived. Not really. Not since Mom died."
His throat tightened as he thought of Lynn. Her tears if she knew what had happened to him. Of Kevan. His chest clenched, then a laugh broke free. A dry, broken chuckle.
"Sorry, Lynn. Kevan. Guess I screwed this one up too."
The laughter died quickly, leaving only silence. His thoughts turned darker, circling until they landed on HIM. That man. His jaw clenched. Slowly, he pushed himself upright.
"No," he whispered. "Not like this, I'm not done yet. I don't care where this is, I'll crawl back, fight, whatever it takes. Nothing's going to keep me down."
And as if to respond to his declaration, the fog stirred behind him, it thickened, swirling like storm clouds. His skin prickled as a shiver raced down his spine. He wasn't alone in here, there was something that had been bothering him ever since he got here.
'Why…why haven't I looked behind me since I got here?'
BEHIND
He turned around slowly and froze at what he saw behind him.
A figure stood there.
Its back to him and yet it felt familiar and wrong at the same time.
He moved forward and circled slowly, dread clawing up his ribs, until he saw the face.
'That's not possible…'
And yet, he gazed upon a face he knew so well. It was his own face.
Everything about the entity wielding his face was the same except for its Void-black eyes that stared back, endless and empty. Its lips was moving, whispering in some twisted language, the words were faint and warped until they weren't.
"He is here… in the broken pieces of that which came first… fragmented by the hands of the First Beings themselves. The madness reclaims the chaos. With each death, it gathers itself, shard by shard. For death is not its finality… it is the key to the undoing. It is it's breath."
The voice seeped into him, dripping molten iron into his skull. He tried to move until he realized that his body locked in place, paralyzed and unable to move. The words twisted, reshaped themselves inside his thoughts, alien and familiar all at once. His chest seized and his breath came out ragged.
"What… what does that mean? Who is he? What madness—?"
No answer.
Only silence.
Then suddenly Riven's eyes dropped.
He saw a hand. Its hand, buried through his chest. Right where his heart should be. His breath hitched and panic surged through him but he couldn't move. He expected agony, blood yet none came. Just the weight of its grip, clutching his heart as though it were its own.
"Wh… what are you…"
The lookalike leaned close with an unreadable expression looking at him with its void-filled eyes before speaking.
Its whisper sliced straight through him:
"You have done well child. To endure. To crawl this far." Its grip tightened around his heart, tugging at something unseen within him. "Now… awaken."
The fog convulsed.
The void shattered.
And Riven's world went blank—
Again.
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