By 3:00 PM, the garage floor was slick with sweat and condensation.
Outside, the constant drizzle of Forks showed no signs of stopping, casting the world in a dreary gray light. The smell of damp earth and moss hung thick in the cold air, but inside the makeshift gym, it smelled of iron and exertion.
Mame dropped the barbell. It hit the rubber mats with a deafening crash.
He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, his lungs burning as he gasped for air. He had been pushing himself to the absolute brink for hours. Every circuit, every lift, every strike against the heavy bag was designed to tear his muscle fibers down so the system could rebuild them stronger.
He waited for it.
Soft Chime.
A Transparent Window flickered into the air in front of his face, casting a faint blue glow over the dark garage.
[ Status Update]
Name: Mame Swan
Rank: D (Peak Human limit reached).
Strength: C-
Agility: D+
Notice: Physical conditioning has plateaued. Breaking the biological limiter to achieve Rank C requires extreme external stimulus or life-threatening adversity. Standard training will yield diminishing returns.
Mame swore under his breath and swiped his hand through the window, shattering it into digital dust.
"Diminishing returns," he muttered, wiping his face with a towel.
It wasn't enough. It didn't matter how much iron he could lift; he was still just a human hitting a biological wall. If James, Victoria, and Laurent crossed into Forks today, Mame would be nothing more than a speed bump. Raw Strength wouldn't stop marble skin, and Agility at a human level couldn't dodge a vampire.
He needed an edge. He needed an equalizer.
Mame closed his eyes, and the fragmented memories of his "Meta-Knowledge" surfaced. He remembered the red eyes and the stone towers, but he also remembered the counterweight to the "Cold Ones."
Massive, impossibly fast, with fur the color of rust, black, and gray. The Quileute shape-shifters. The wolves.
According to the timeline in his head, the pack wasn't fully formed yet. Jacob Black was still just a kid tinkering with cars, completely unaware of his bloodline. But Sam Uley... Sam was already phasing. Sam already knew the truth about the treaty and the leeches that lived across the river.
Mame threw his towel onto the bench. If he couldn't break his own limiters alone, he needed to stand with the people who naturally hunted the things he was preparing to fight.
He walked out of the garage and into the quiet house. Bella hadn't returned from school yet, and Charlie was still on shift. The house was empty.
Mame grabbed a pen from the kitchen counter and ripped a piece of paper from a notepad. He wrote quickly, his handwriting sharp and hurried.
Dad / Bella,
Gone down to the La Push reservation. I needed to make some things clear with a few people. I'll be back later tonight. If I need to stay overnight, I'll call.
- Mame
He left the note squarely in the center of the kitchen table where Charlie, a man of action who always checked the perimeter of a room, would spot it instantly.
Mame walked to the front door, pulling on a dry, dark jacket. He checked his mental Inventory, ensuring he had everything he might need stored safely away in the grid.
He stepped out into the rain. He didn't have a car, and it was a long way to First Beach, but he didn't care. He had a Rank C barrier to break, and a pack of wolves to find.
The walk to La Push was long and punishing. The constant drizzle soaked through Mame's jacket long before he crossed the treaty line, the dreary gray light of the afternoon offering no warmth. As he neared the reservation, the familiar smell of damp earth and moss began to mix with the sharp, biting scent of ocean salt and wet cedar.
He didn't know exactly where to find Sam Uley, but in a community as small as La Push, a stranger walking down the main road didn't go unnoticed for long.
He found Sam outside a small, weather-beaten house near the edge of the tree line, chopping firewood. Even from a distance, Sam's physical presence was jarring. He was massive, his muscles thick and corded, moving with a fluid, explosive power that defied normal human mechanics.
As Mame approached, a Soft Chime rang in his ears. A Transparent Window flickered briefly in his peripheral vision. Mame didn't need to open a full status screen to understand the warning the system was giving him. The physical density radiating from the man in front of him easily surpassed Mame's Rank D limit. Even in his human form, Sam was operating at a solid Rank B.
Sam brought the axe down, splitting a thick log perfectly in two, before burying the blade into the chopping block. He turned slowly, his dark eyes locking onto Mame. He knew who Mame was—everyone knew Chief Swan's kids.
"You're a long way from home, Swan," Sam said, his voice a deep, resonant rumble. "Shouldn't you be in school?"
"I don't have time for school," Mame said, stopping a few feet away. He didn't flinch under Sam's heavy gaze. "And I don't have time for small talk. I know about the treaty. I know about the Cold Ones living across the river."
Sam's expression didn't change, but the air around him seemed to drop ten degrees. His hands flexed at his sides. "I don't know what kind of stories Jacob has been feeding your sister, but you need to turn around and walk back to Forks."
"Jacob didn't tell me anything," Mame replied, his voice flat and unyielding. "I saw it. I know what the Cullens are. And I know what you turn into to fight them."
Sam took a slow, deliberate step forward. The sheer heat radiating off his body was palpable, cutting through the cold rain. "You hit your head, kid? There's nothing out here but trees and rain. Go home."
Mame stood his ground. "Three of them are coming. Nomads. Trackers. They aren't 'vegetarians' like the Cullens, and they are going to cross into Forks. I've hit a wall in my training, and I need to know how much stronger I have to get to kill one." Mame looked Sam dead in the eye. "I need a baseline. I want you to test my strength. Fight me."
For a second, Sam just stared at him, caught somewhere between anger and absolute disbelief. A human teenager, standing in the pouring rain, demanding to spar with a shape-shifter to prepare for a vampire attack.
"You're out of your mind," Sam growled, stepping closer, his imposing frame towering over Mame. "I'm not going to fight Charlie's kid. And if you ever mention the Cold Ones around here again—"
"Sam."
The voice was old, brittle like dry leaves, but it carried an authority that made Sam stop instantly.
Mame turned. Walking up the dirt path, leaning heavily on a carved wooden cane, was an older man with deep, weathered lines etched into his face. His dark eyes were sharp, missing absolutely nothing.
It was Quil Ateara III, one of the tribal elders.
Sam immediately stepped back, his posture shifting into one of deep respect. "Elder. You shouldn't be out in the rain."
Quil ignored Sam, walking until he stood right in front of Mame. The old man studied him closely. A Soft Chime echoed in Mame's mind, and the Transparent Window registered the old man not as a physical threat, but as a vault of Rank A ancient knowledge.
"You smell like the storm, boy," Quil said softly, his eyes searching Mame's face. "But you don't look like you belong in it. Your eyes... they look like they've seen the end of the world."
"I've seen enough to know what's coming," Mame answered respectfully but firmly. "And I refuse to let it happen."
Quil Ateara III leaned on his cane, the rain pattering against his thick coat. He looked at Sam, then back to Mame, sensing the strange, anomalous void that Mame projected—the very thing that blinded Alice and silenced Edward.
"The wolves do not fight humans," Old Quil said slowly. "But the spirits tell us when the tides are shifting. And the tide around you, Mame Swan, is pulling very hard."
The elder turned toward the small house.
"Come inside, boy," Quil ordered, not looking back. "If you intend to hunt the cold demons, you will need more than just muscle. Let us talk."
Inside the small house, the air was thick with the smell of burning cedar and old paper. It was warm, a sharp contrast to the constant drizzle and dreary gray light outside.
Quil Ateara III lowered himself into a worn armchair with a heavy sigh. Sam Uley stood by the door, his massive frame effectively blocking the exit, his dark eyes never leaving Mame.
Quil rested both of his weathered hands on his carved wooden cane. "The spirits are restless around you, Mame Swan. But flesh and blood are fragile things. The Cold Ones..." He paused, his ancient eyes darkening with ancestral memory. "They are made of stone and ice. They do not tire. They do not bleed. A human boy fighting a cold demon is not a battle. It is a slaughter."
The elder leaned forward slightly, fixing Mame with a penetrating stare. "So tell me, boy. Why are you so hell-bent on fighting them? You know you cannot fight them as a human. You will die. Why do you want to kill one?"
Mame stood in the center of the room. The rainwater dripped from his dark jacket onto the woven rug, but he didn't move. He didn't blink.
"Because of Charlie," Mame said, his voice quiet but carrying a raw weight that made Sam shift slightly by the door.
"Charlie Swan is a man of action," Mame continued, his jaw tightening as the memories of this life grounded him. "He doesn't ask for much. But he found me on the side of the road. I was a nobody. I had nothing. No past, no family, no real place in this world."
Mame's hands slowly balled into fists at his sides, the knuckles turning white. "He didn't have to, but he took me in. He gave me a home. He gave me a name. He treated me like a son when he had absolutely no reason to."
Mame looked up, his dark eyes burning with a fierce, absolute conviction that seemed to suck the air out of the small room.
"And Bella... she might be quiet and clumsy, but she is my sister."
A Soft Chime rang cleanly through Mame's mind. A Transparent Window flickered violently at the very edge of his vision, the system reacting to the immense, unnatural spike of his sheer willpower, but Mame ignored the glowing blue text completely.
"I don't care if they are made of stone," Mame said, his voice dropping into a deadly, unyielding vow. "I don't care if they're fast. I don't care what fate or destiny says is supposed to happen. No matter what is coming to hurt her... they need to go through me first."
He looked right at Sam, and then back to the elder.
"And I will find a way to kill it."
The small house went dead silent. The crackle of the wood stove was the only sound, competing with the distant rhythm of the Forks rain against the roof.
Quil Ateara III stared at the human boy for a long, heavy minute. He looked past the fragile human frame and saw the terrifying, immovable resolve anchoring the boy's spirit.
Then, the old man did something Sam Uley did not expect.
He smiled. A slow, deeply respectful smile.
"The body of a man," Quil murmured, tapping his cane softly against the floorboards. "But the heart of a wolf."
The warmth of the wood stove did nothing to melt the heavy, imposing tension in the small room. Outside, the endless drizzle of Forks battered against the windows, a persistent reminder of the gray light and the smell of damp earth and moss that defined Mame's new reality.
Quil Ateara III let his smile fade into a look of deep, ancient solemnity. He leaned back in his worn armchair, his dark eyes never leaving Mame's face.
"We have heard of people like you," the elder began, his voice dropping into a raspy, reverent timbre. "People like you have been around for as long as the Cold Ones, the shifters, or any of the other children of the moon have walked this earth."
Sam Uley stiffened by the door, his massive arms uncrossing. He looked at the elder in surprise, but Quil raised a single, weathered hand to silence him before he could speak.
"You are not the first of your kind, Mame Swan," Quil continued, his gaze piercing. "You belong to a very specific, truly scary breed of human. You may have heard of the famous ones in your stories and books—men like Van Helsing and the like. They existed. They were real."
Mame's breath hitched slightly. The fragmented memories of his past life—the books, the movies, the lore—flashed behind his eyes. He had thought they were just stories, fictional characters created to make the dark less terrifying.
"You are similar to them," Quil said, tapping a finger against the carved wood of his cane. "A human with a will so absolute, so unyielding, that you can bend the fabric of what is meant to be. You can make the impossible possible simply because you refuse to accept any other outcome."
The elder leaned forward again, the firelight casting deep shadows across the lines of his face.
"But you are standing on a dangerous edge, boy. None of those men—not Van Helsing, not the warriors of the old tribes—did the things they did alone. A mortal with an iron will is a weapon, yes. But a weapon without guidance will eventually shatter against stone."
Mame remained completely still, absorbing the weight of the old man's words. He had been so focused on breaking his own biological limits in the isolation of his garage that he hadn't considered the wider war.
Quil pointed a gnarled finger at Mame's chest. "I will point the way for you. I will teach you what the wolves know of the cold demons—how they move, how they hunt, and how they can be broken. Because if three trackers are coming to our lands..."
Quil paused, his eyes narrowing with a fierce, protective glint.
"...you will need to be this generation's Van Helsing."
Soft Chime.
A Transparent Window snapped into existence in Mame's field of vision, the blue light reflecting faintly in his dark eyes.
[ System Notification]
Condition Met: Acknowledgment by an Ancient Authority.
New Title Acquired: Successor of Helsing.
Description: Grants a passive damage multiplier when fighting recognized "Monsters" (Vampires, Lycans, etc.) and allows the host's raw Willpower to temporarily bypass the physical limitations of Rank D during life-or-death combat.
Mame stared at the glowing text for a fraction of a second before dismissing it. He looked back at Quil Ateara III and gave a slow, deep nod.
"I don't care what title history gives me," Mame said, his voice steady and cold. "Just tell me how to kill them."
Sam Uley finally stepped away from the door, the hostility bleeding out of his posture, replaced by a wary, grudging respect. He looked at the elder, waiting for the command.
Quil nodded to Sam. "Take him to the clearing, Sam. Show him the strength of the pack. Show him what he is up against."
Mame didn't move toward the door just yet. The firelight cast long shadows across his face as he thought of the note he had left on the kitchen table.
"If I'm going to learn how to fight them, a few hours won't be enough," Mame said, looking back at the elder. "I need to stay. But if I don't come home tonight, Charlie will come looking. If he thinks I'm missing or in trouble, he'll have every cruiser in Forks tearing up the reservation by midnight. And Bella she's too observant. She already knows I'm hiding something."
Quil Ateara III let out a low, rumbling chuckle that sounded like stones grinding together. "You let me worry about Chief Swan, boy. I have the perfect way to keep him at bay."
The elder reached over to a small side table and picked up an old, heavy telephone. He dialed a number from memory, his gnarled fingers moving with practiced ease.
Mame and Sam stood in silence as the line rang.
"Billy?" Quil spoke into the receiver, his voice shifting effortlessly into a warm, casual tone. "It's Quil. Yes, I'm doing well. Listen, my friend, I have a favor to ask. Charlie Swan's boy, Mame, came down to La Push today."
There was a pause as Billy Black responded on the other end.
Quil smiled faintly. "Yes, exactly. He's been asking questions about where he comes from. Since Charlie found him with no history, we got to looking at him. The boy has the look. We think he might actually have some Quileute blood in him."
Mame raised an eyebrow. It was a brilliant, airtight lie. Since Mame had no biological history in this world, no one could prove otherwise.
"We are going to run some checks through the tribal registry," Quil continued smoothly. "And he wants to learn a bit about our history just in case. He's going to stay out here with us for a while. Could you call Charlie and let him and Bella know? Tell them not to worry, the boy is safe with the elders."
Another pause.
"Thank you, Billy. Have a good evening."
Quil hung up the phone and looked back at Mame. "Billy Black is Charlie's best friend. Charlie respects the tribe, and he respects Billy. A father would never stand in the way of a son trying to find his roots. You have your time, Successor of Helsing."
Mame let out a slow breath. The logistical hurdle was cleared. Now, it was just him, the system, and the monsters.
Sam Uley opened the front door, letting the drizzle and the gray light spill into the warm room. The heavy smell of damp earth and moss immediately washed over them, a stark reminder of the cold world waiting outside.
"Let's go, Swan," Sam grunted, stepping out into the rain. "If you want to see what it takes to break a cold demon, you need to see what we can do first."
Mame followed Sam out of the house. As his boots hit the muddy path, a familiar sound echoed in his mind.
Soft Chime.
A Transparent Window flickered to life in the rain.
[Quest Updated]
Objective: Survive the Shape-shifter Baseline Test.
Goal: Push physical attributes past the human biological limiter to achieve Rank C
Notice: You are entering a hostile training environment. System safety limiters have been temporarily disabled.
Mame dismissed the window, his eyes locking onto Sam's broad back as they walked deeper into the dark, wet forest. There was no turning back now.