Morning – Forks High School
The sky above Forks was heavy with gray clouds, the type that promised rain without delivering. Desmond sat by the window in Biology class, his eyes absent from the slides projected at the front. Instead, he was watching the droplets race down the glass.
His fingers tapped the strange pendant the girl had given him. The symbol still hummed faintly when he touched it. Every time he focused on it, flashes would come—memories he couldn't place, voices he'd never heard, and visions of battles in places that didn't exist.
He wasn't just remembering the Twilight book anymore. This was something deeper, something more ancient.
"Desmond," Bella whispered beside him, snapping him out of his daze. "You okay?"
He nodded, lips tight. "Yeah. Just thinking."
She tilted her head, concerned. "You've been… different. More focused, but also… distracted."
He glanced at her. "Do you believe in fate?"
Bella blinked. "Sometimes."
Desmond looked away. "I think mine's finally caught up with me."
Later That Day – Deep Woods, South Fork Trail
Desmond met Elias beneath a canopy of pine trees.
"They're watching me," Desmond said.
Elias nodded. "The Cullens are watching. The wolves are circling. But now, others have taken notice."
Desmond's brows furrowed. "The girl from yesterday—who was she?"
"She's part of an ancient bloodline," Elias said. "Older than vampires. Older than werewolves. She belongs to a forgotten order—the Keepers of the Divide. They're the ones who maintain the boundary between supernatural realms."
"Why give me this?" Desmond lifted the pendant.
"Because you are the breach, Desmond," Elias said grimly. "The anomaly born of no known origin. Not vampire, not wolf, not witch. Something else entirely. The Keepers believe you're the key to a prophecy… or the end of everything they swore to protect."
Evening – Cullen Residence
Esme and Carlisle stood in their study, watching a projection of ancient texts Rosalie had decoded.
"This symbol has been recurring," she pointed. "In vampire archives, in wolf carvings. Always associated with catastrophe. Or with someone who turns the tides."
Emmett crossed his arms. "So Desmond is either the hero… or the problem."
Edward looked up from the book he held. "He remembers the future. But not clearly. He knows enough to avoid the mistakes, but not enough to predict the consequences of his actions."
"Which means," Alice added, "every move he makes creates ripples. And those ripples are colliding with ours."
Carlisle sighed. "We need to decide if we're going to help him—or stop him."
Night – Desmond's Dreamscape
He stood at the edge of a ruined battlefield, twilight bleeding through the clouds. Bodies of supernatural beings littered the ground—wolves, vampires, and others he couldn't name. At the center stood himself, older, eyes glowing with power, a cloak torn and marked by the same symbol as the pendant.
Behind him stood an army. Witches with silver flames. Beasts made of shadow. And beside his older self, five others—blurred figures, but familiar.
His future team?
A voice echoed across the dream.
"You are more than a reader of destinies, Desmond. You are the rewrite."
He gasped and woke up, heart pounding.