The sky wept black fire.
Riven's legs trembled as the Hollow Knight towered over him, seven arms of cursed steel raised high. Everyone else was already dead.
"You're the last one, runt. Make it fun."
As Riven closed his eyes, ready to accept death, a voice echoed in his soul:
"You burn... so the world may rise."
The next moment, the earth exploded with flame.
The world was on fire again.
Ash drifted through the air like snow, but instead of peace, it carried the stench of death. The sky above the wasteland split open with jagged cracks of crimson light. Demons poured out like blood from a fresh wound.
And in the middle of it all… stood Riven Ashenveil.
Seventeen years old. Weak. Forgotten. A shadow even among the last survivors of humanity's fall.
He wasn't a warrior.
He wasn't brave.
He wasn't anything worth remembering.
The only reason he stood at the edge of Hollowreach—what remained of the last human settlement—was because his squad leader forced him to. "Bait duty," they called it. Toss the weakest into the front line, draw out the enemy, and hope the others have time to react.
Classic hero stuff.
Now, everyone else was dead.
Bodies littered the blackened earth. Screams had long since faded. Riven's breath hitched as he stood facing the monstrosity that had butchered them all.
A Hollow Knight.
Seven arms, each wielding a cursed blade dripping with shadowfire. A suit of black armor cracked with molten veins. Its helmet was a jagged crown of thorns. And inside its hollow chest burned a pulsing orb—the Heartcore.
"You reek of fear," it growled, voice like rusted blades grinding together. "Good. Die with purpose, coward."
Riven couldn't move. He couldn't scream. His legs gave out. He dropped to his knees, tears mixing with the soot on his cheeks.
I don't want to die. I don't want this. I didn't ask for any of this.
The Hollow Knight raised one of its blades, the edge humming with dark intent.
I'm not ready.
The blade fell.
A scream tore from Riven's throat—one of pure instinct, pure terror—but the strike never landed.
Instead, time fractured.
The world froze.
Ash paused midair.
Flames flickered in place.
Even the Hollow Knight halted, blade frozen inches from Riven's face.
And then—
"You burn… so the world may rise."
A voice, ancient and divine, whispered in his mind.
His chest ignited.
A spiral of searing heat erupted from deep within his soul, coiling around his heart and ribs like a dragon awakening. Symbols older than time glowed on his skin, and the earth beneath him turned molten.
What is this? he thought, panic battling awe.
The Hollow Knight twitched, able to move again—but only barely.
"What… have you done?" it hissed, stepping back.
The flames surged. Not normal fire—this was different. This was Eternal Flame, alive and hungry, devouring everything false, weak, and impure. It didn't burn Riven.
It became him.
He rose from the ground, hair shifting to a deep ember red, eyes burning like twin suns. His body cracked with raw energy, and an ethereal weapon formed in his hand—a sword forged from flame and soul.
"I don't know what's happening," he muttered, voice echoing with strange harmonics. "But I'm done being afraid."
He moved without thinking, the sword in his hand cleaving through the air. The Hollow Knight raised four of its blades in defense—too slow.
The flame blade cut through all of them.
The demon roared as limbs and armor burst into ash. Its crown shattered. Its Heartcore pulsed violently as it stepped back, for the first time unsure.
"You... you are not ranked. You are not meant to exist," it growled. "You are chaos."
Riven clenched his fist.
"I'm whatever comes after survival," he said, stepping forward. "I'm the fire that refuses to go out."
He stabbed his sword into the Hollow Knight's chest.
A moment of silence.
Then everything exploded.
The blast shook the landscape. Mountains in the distance cracked. The Hollow Knight disintegrated in a pillar of white flame, screaming until its voice was consumed.
When the light faded, Riven stood alone.
Breathing heavily. Covered in soot and blood. And alive.
The sword vanished from his hand, but the fire in his chest remained. Not burning him—but empowering him. He looked at his hands.
"What… am I?"
From the ashes, a small ember floated upward. It pulsed once, then drifted into his chest.
[INCINERATION MARK I: UNLOCKED][Eternal Flame - Bound][New Title Acquired: Ashborn]
He collapsed.
The sky began to heal, the tear in reality stitching closed. The world, for now, was silent.
But far away… something was watching.
And it smiled