The world cracked.
Not in noise, but in silence so pure it burned. Riven's breath came out as vapor — time itself freezing around him. The Chrono-Gate pulsed faintly in his hand, flickering like a dying heart. The city of Vehlan was collapsing in layers — moments sliding over moments, streets duplicating themselves, people repeating movements like corrupted video frames.
Lira stood ahead, eyes blank, lips trembling.
"Riven… you did it again."Her voice wasn't hers. It came from a hundred versions of her — each one a ghost, each one dying in a slightly different way.
"I tried to save you," he said hoarsely. "Every time. Every single time."
She stepped forward, her image breaking apart into static."And every time… you killed me sooner."
The words gutted him. His memories flickered — Lira smiling in the lab, the explosion, her blood on his hands. But another voice whispered through the static — his own."You don't remember what you erased, do you?"
Riven turned. Behind him stood another Riven Solas — pale, cracked like porcelain, eyes glowing cold blue."The past isn't what you think," the double said. "You didn't build the Chrono-Gate to save her. You built it to keep her trapped."
The ground pulsed violently. The city folded inward — skyscrapers twisting into themselves, streets coiling like ribbons. Riven fell to his knees as flashes tore through his mind:— Lira screaming his name.— The Chrono-Gate is malfunctioning.— His hand pulling the lever… knowing it would break reality.
"No…" he gasped. "That's not true!"But the other him smiled — a broken, knowing smile.
"You think time is your cage. But you were the one who built the bars."
Lira's fragmented figure reached out — her touch glitching through the air. "Riven, please. End it. Before we all vanish."
He looked up. Around him, time rippled like shattered water. The two suns overhead were collapsing into one another — red and blue merging, forming a black void that devoured color.
Riven screamed. Not in fear — in rage. In grief. A scream so violent that it reversed the fall of dust, so raw it made the light itself hesitate.
When he opened his eyes, everything was gone. Only the Chrono-Gate lay in his palm, whispering in her voice:
"You cannot fix what was never broken."
And for the first time, Riven didn't know if the voice was hers — or his own regret given form