Nearly half a year after arriving in Forks, Renee realized something subtle had shifted.
Not in herself—she'd felt steady for months now—but in the town.
Forks had a way of swallowing things. Sound, mostly. Intent. Attention. Roads curved just enough to vanish into trees. Phone calls dropped without warning. Weather rolled in thick and damp, blurring edges until everything felt half-remembered.
At first, Renee had thought it was just isolation.
Now, standing outside Honey & Hearth before dawn, keys cool in her palm, she understood it differently.
Forks wasn't empty.
It was quiet on purpose.
She stepped inside, the familiar scent of yeast and sugar grounding her. The lights flickered on one by one, warm against the fog pressing at the windows. For a moment, she just stood there, listening—to the building settling, to the low hum of the refrigerator, to the stillness underneath it all.
The system stirred.
[SYSTEM ANALYSIS INITIATED]
[Environmental Scan: ONGOING
Anomaly Type: NON-HUMAN INTERFACE — DORMANT
Status: INACTIVE]
Renee frowned slightly, setting her bag down behind the counter.
Non-human didn't automatically mean danger. She'd learned that early. But dormant interfaces were new.
"What kind of interface?" she murmured under her breath.
The answer came not as a list of schematics or glowing diagrams—but as recognition.
She suddenly felt the land differently.
The ground beneath Forks wasn't neutral. It carried memory. Not human memory—older, slower, less concerned with individuals. Like a forest that remembered fire and learned where to let rivers run.
The system clarified.
[Trigger Conditions:
• Elevated immortal density
• Energetic anomalies
• Forced activation attempts
Recommendation:
Observe only.
Do not engage.]
Renee exhaled slowly.
"So it's not watching," she whispered. "It's… waiting."
The knowledge settled into her bones without changing anything visible. No surge of power. No new instincts demanding action.
Just boundaries.
Places that reacted when disturbed. Safeguards designed to stay asleep unless provoked. Systems meant to endure, not intervene.
Forks wasn't broken.
It was defensive.
She brewed the first pot of coffee, hands steady, thoughts already rearranging themselves. Vampires—if they came—wouldn't just exist in a vacuum. Populations accumulated. Patterns formed. And when enough non-human presence gathered in one place, old protections noticed.
Not to attack.
To respond.
Renee didn't need a prophecy to understand what that meant.
Something was coming.
And when it did, Forks would already be listening.
---
Later that afternoon, she sat at Charlie's parents' kitchen table, the air thick with the smell of soup and antiseptic. His mother stared at her bowl for a long moment, brow furrowed, before looking up with faint embarrassment.
"I know this," she said softly. "I just… can't reach it."
Renee smiled gently. "That's okay. You don't have to."
She never used potions for memory. Never for time. Some systems weren't meant to be altered. Watching Charlie quietly help his father into a chair, she felt the truth of it settle deeper.
Protection wasn't about erasing pain.
It was about preserving dignity.
Later, when Charlie walked her to the door, his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He hesitated, like there was something he wanted to ask—but didn't.
"You okay?" she asked instead.
He nodded. "Yeah. Just… tired."
She didn't press.
Some knowledge was meant to be carried alone until it was ready to be shared.
---
That night, Renee accessed the system again.
[TECH COMPATIBILITY DETECTED]
[Ancient Gene Affinity: DORMANT]
She stared at the words for a long moment before selecting the option the system had quietly highlighted.
[Purchase Confirmed:
Ancient Technology Familiarization (Stargate)
Cost: 6,000 SC
Effect:
• Safe interaction protocols for dormant systems
• Cognitive recognition of non-human interfaces
• No visible physiological changes]
The purchase didn't give her power.
It gave her discernment.
If something old stirred, she would know the difference between:
– a predator
– a person
– and a place defending itself
The system acknowledged her restraint.
[MISSION COMPLETE]
[Prepare Without Provoking
Reward: +8,000 SC
Escalation: NONE]
Renee leaned back against the counter of her apartment, the rain tapping softly against the window above the café. Below her, Forks slept—quiet, fog-wrapped, patient.
She wasn't here to wake anything.
She was here to make sure that when the world did begin to move, it didn't break what was already holding.
Somewhere below the roots and roads, the town remembered.
And for now—
That was enough.