(A/N):
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The storm outside didn't quiet.
It deepened.
As if the world itself understood—Something had just ended.
And something else had begun.
Cullen's Mansion...
Inside Cullens's Mansion,
Bella's heart—Stopped beating once and for all.
No slow fade. No final struggle.
Just—Stillness.
"...."
Indicating she had entered the transformation period.
Carlisle's hand remained at her neck for a moment longer.
Confirming. Measuring. That she had passed away finally.
Then—He withdrew.
"It's begun," he said quietly.
Not death. Not exactly.
But Transformation.
The room shifted into a different kind of silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Bella Swan—Was gone. As a Human.
But she will be born as a cold one.
And in her place—Something new was being forged.
"...."
Edward didn't move. He sat beside her.
Still. Looking at her face. Pale.
Unmoving. Perfectly still.
If someone walked in—They would say she was dead.
And they wouldn't be wrong.
Edward reached out slowly.
His fingers brushing her cheek.
Cold.
No response. No breath. No heartbeat.
And even though tears could never come—The weight of it showed.
In the way he didn't blink.
Didn't move. Didn't look away.
He had chosen this.
And now—He had to live with the moment where she had technically died because of it.
The child was quiet.
Too quiet.
In Esme's arms—It didn't cry.
Didn't fuss.
It simply watched.
Eyes moving slowly—Taking everything in.
Rosalie stood close.
Arms crossed.
But her gaze never left the baby.
"…Creepy,"
She muttered under her breath.
Not fear. Just… acknowledgment.
Because that child—Wasn't reacting like a newborn.
It was observing.
Outside the Cullen's House...
Jasper Hale remained outside.
Rain soaked through him. Unnoticed.
Beside him—Jess. Silent. Steady.
Jasper exhaled slowly.
-Sigh!
"Too much," he admitted.
Inside—The emotional storm was overwhelming.
Pain. Relief. Fear.
Love. Loss.
All tangled together.
And if he stepped inside—He'd amplify it.
Make it worse.
So he stayed. Guarding. Waiting.
Back Inside the mansion...
Jojo stood near the doorway.
"...."
Watching Edward. Watching Bella.
Watching the transformation.
"…Interesting," he murmured.
Not cold. Not detached.
Curious.
Because Bella's body—Wasn't just accepting the venom. It was adapting to it…
'too smoothly.'
Alice stood nearby, her eyes flickering again.
Trying to see what Bella would become—But the future—Was unstable.
Blurry.
"…I can't see her clearly," she whispered.
Jojo didn't look at her.
"I know," he replied.
Because whatever Bella was becoming—Wasn't something easily predicted.
Edward finally spoke.
Quiet.
"…She'll come back."
Not hope. Belief. Because he had no other choice.
The room held its breath.
Not waiting for life. But for rebirth.
One has fallen into silence.
One watches the world with knowing eyes.
And one… is about to awaken.
Time moved strangely in that house.
Not measured in hours—But in waiting.
Three days had passed since the child's birth.
Three days since Bella's heart had fallen silent.
Her body lay still.
Unmoving.
But not lifeless.
The transformation continued beneath the surface—silent, relentless, rewriting her existence cell by cell.
She had grown thinner. Fragile.
Almost like a shadow of who she once was.
Edward stayed close. Always.
Sometimes he sat beside her, unmoving for hours.
Other times—He helped clean her, careful, precise, as if she might break under even the gentlest touch.
Esme took turns with him.
Her care soft. Maternal.
No one said it out loud—But they all felt it.
They were waiting for her to return.
Another Room...
The child remained… unusual.
Quiet. Observant.
Not crying. Not restless.
Watching.
Jess had taken it upon herself to stay close, protective in a way she didn't bother hiding anymore.
"…Still creepy,"
She muttered once, though there was no real bite behind it now.
Because whatever the child was—It wasn't fragile.
Jojo's Mansion...
Away from the tension—Away from the waiting—Jojo stood in one of the quieter halls of the mansion.
Alice leaned near him, her usual restless energy softened for once.
Rosalie stood close by as well, arms loosely folded, though her attention drifted between the moment and the room beyond.
For a brief stretch of time—The storm inside the house eased.
Not gone. Just… quieter.
Alice exhaled softly.
-Sigh!
"…She's still changing."
Jojo nodded once looking at her.
-Nod
"Yes."
For once—
Alice wasn't chasing visions.
Rosalie wasn't guarded.
They were present.
Alice leaned in first, her usual lightness replaced with something softer, more grounded. Her hand brushed against Jojo's collar as she pulled closer.
Rosalie didn't stay behind long.
She stepped in, her intensity unfiltered as always—no hesitation, no second thoughts.
The distance between them disappeared.
Not rushed. Not desperate. Just… real.
A rare pause in the chaos surrounding them.
For a moment—No hunters. No visions. No looming threats.
Just warmth in a house that had been drowning in tension for days.
Alice pulled back slightly, her forehead resting lightly against his.
"…This calm won't last," she murmured.
Jojo's gaze didn't waver.
"It never does."
Rosalie exhaled softly, glancing toward the direction of Bella's room.
"…Then we take it while we can."
Meanwhile at the entrance of the forks...
The road was empty.
No cars. No lights.
Just wet asphalt stretching into darkness.
And on it—A man walked. Barefoot. Unhurried.
A massive box rested across his back, strapped tight with thick bindings.
Too large to be luggage. Too heavy to be normal.
Yet—He carried it like it weighed nothing.
His head was shaved clean.
Tattooed patterns crawled across his skin—neck, arms, even the sides of his scalp. Not decorative.
Not random.
Symbols. Old ones.
The rain didn't bother him.
Didn't slow him.
Didn't even seem to touch him properly—as if it slid away before settling.
He stopped. Not because he was tired.
Because he had arrived.
Ahead—A sign.
Half-rusted. Faded.
Forks.
The man tilted his head slightly.
As if listening to something only he could hear.
"…So this is where my hunt is," he murmured.
His voice—Uneven.
Not broken. Just… layered.
Like more than one thought tried to speak at once.
He adjusted the box on his back.
The wood creaked.
For a brief second—Something inside shifted.
Not violently. Not loudly. But enough.
The man smiled faintly.
"Easy," he whispered—not to himself.
Then—He stepped forward.
Crossing into Forks.
At that exact moment—
Inside Jojo's Mansion...
Jojo's eyes lifted.
Feeling the immense sin has entered the forks.
Not dramatically. Not suddenly. Just… knowingly.
"…There you are."
Alice froze. Her vision snapped into place—Too fast. Too sharp.
"...."
"I see him," she said, breath catching.
But even as she said it—The image flickered.
Unstable. Incomplete.
Jojo's gaze remained steady.
"He's carrying something," Alice added.
"…Something wrong."
Jojo nodded hearing her.
-Nod
"Of course he should be I could feel the sin from here."
Back on the Road...
The man kept walking.
Each step—Measured. Certain.
As if the entire journey had already been decided long before he took the first step.
The box shifted again.
This time—Slightly stronger.
The man's smile widened.
"Patience," he murmured again.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N):
Guys My New Fic name is:
-->Mahabharat: Shiva's Last Variable
Check it out... I hope you will like it
Whats your thought's guys.
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