Forgotten Hero Novels & Stories

Judging by the blue mists around him, he must be the guy who saved Amelia. Hold up..MALCOM?!I am the one who disfigured him!.Oh lord…I wonder what Adam would say. “I don’t think we have much time to discuss things,just know that what you did to me, caused deleted memories to come back,and it appears that my dad is a dick,so I am on your side now;so is the rest of my army.”Should I trust him?.I mean he’s had every chance to kill me if he wanted to. “Fine,but one wrong move and I won’t hesitate,got it ?”He nods his head ,before chanting a few words and suddenly even I have the blue mist around me.I raise a brow asking him to explain about the hocus pocus shit he’s doing.

Sarah gasped, shocked and resolved, colliding in her eyes. John stood stunned. Callen whispered, “The reversal completes the heir becomes the keeper. The keeper becomes the heir.” Clint hissed. “No!” He lunged for Sarah. John sprang in front of her. His fist met Clint’s blow, sparks flew, the ground cracked, but the world shifted again. The Forgotten rose, not as monsters, not as pawns, they were alive, eyes filled with memory, anger and hope. They parted clearing a path toward Clint and the shattered crown.

"When enough division existed, it entered the world fully." The memories shifted again. Now I saw the war. Not between light and shadow. Between everyone and the Silence. The Hollow Guard. The ancient armies. The throne. The queen. Fighting desperately against a darkness that consumed everything it touched. Not physically. Emotionally. People forgot who they loved, forgot what they believed, forgot themselves. The realization hit me like a physical blow. The Forgotten. That's why they were called that. The queen saw understanding dawn on my face. "Yes." Pain flashed through her eyes. "They were not created."

Just as he was heaving the heavy thick wooden door closed, a pair of hands pulled it back open. There before him stood the reason for so many things. This battle. Sheiria's fatal wound. The reason that their son had been spirited away by his most trusted captain and the boy's nursemaid. Ragar was an ugly man. In both mind, heart and appearance. Unkept, wild, knotted hair. A mouth full of rotting teeth. A demeanor of cruelty and greed. The only thing about the man that resembled health was his rounded belly, suggesting a habit of over-eating and over-indulgence.

Then he looked at his Dad “D-dad.” “Thank God you remember me.” “Kuya. What about me?” This time it was Gravity “Gravity.” He called “W-What happened to me? why is that, why do I remember so little. I can't remember everything?” I cried, he can’t remember. He can only remember little “Kuya do you remember her?” Gravity pointed me to his brother “Answer me!” “Don’t shout Grav..” I said “I-I don't I’m sorry... who are you?” He looked at me

Her silver eyes reflected the approaching tide. “What happened to them?” The Harvester answered quietly., “They forgot.” Silence followed. The explanation sounded simple. Too simple. The Harvester looked toward the darkness. “We remembered our worlds.”Its voice trembled. We remembered our families. The Forgotten Ones drew closer. “We remembered why we survived.” A pause. “They forgot everything.” The balance tightened. Kael’s eyes narrowed. “And what remained?” The Harvester’s expression darkened. “Hunger.” The answer echoed across existence.

**Kelly Thompson's POV** The fortress is no longer a fortress—it’s a *nexus*. The oak’s roots have grown beyond the crystalline forest, threading through the fabric of reality itself. The flowers bloom in every color imaginable, their petals shimmering with fragments of timelines both lived and unlived. The Forgotten who remain have become something else entirely—guardians, gardeners, or perhaps prisoners. Their mutations have stabilized, but their eyes hold a distant, almost reverent glow. They call the oak **the Worldheart** now, and they speak of it in whispers, as if afraid it might hear.

"Inside the people you hurt." My stomach dropped. "What?" "Every memory you erased became a fragment." He looked at the black-crescent army. "They became the vault." I stared at them. The entire army had been carrying pieces of my forgotten past. The black crescents weren't marks of loyalty. They were seals. I walked toward the nearest warrior. "Can I restore them?" The First Alpha shook his head. "Not all." "Why?" "Because some memories are already dead." My chest tightened. "But I can try."