The Audi rolled smoothly into the driveway and came to a quiet stop in front of the house. The engine hummed for a moment before I turned it off, and the world outside settled into the soft stillness of early evening.
I stepped out, closing the door with a muted click.
A light breeze drifted through the yard, cool and unhurried, catching in my hair and pushing it back from my forehead. The timing was almost cinematic. The sun hovered low on the horizon, painting the sky in deep orange and fading gold, the clouds thin and stretched like brushstrokes across a canvas. For a moment, I simply stood there and watched it.
There was something grounding about sunsets. Even when you could fly above them, even when you weren't entirely human anymore, they still had a way of reminding you that the world moved at its own pace.
After a quiet breath, I headed inside.
As the door closed behind me, the calm gave way to calculation. I went over the plan again, step by step. My financial foundation was already established. Ark was operational, structured, and positioned to grow steadily with only minor intervention from me. Alfred would maintain the rhythm.
Money was no longer the immediate concern.
Power was.
I hadn't yet explored two aspects of my absorption ability, memory and what I had labelled "life force". The name itself was questionable. Vampires having "life force" sounded contradictory, almost ironic. But terminology was flexible. What mattered was that they possessed a form of energy that I could absorb, and if I did so, they would die.
So I called it life force.
The plan was straightforward. I would spend a day or two tracking, hunting, and eliminating vampires. Test the limits. Absorb what I could. Then return here, rest for a day, handle remote work for Ark, and continue development on the company's projects.
And then repeat the cycle.
Balanced lifestyle, I would say.
I went to my room and changed into more practical clothing before retrieving something I had purchased in absolute secrecy. The custom mask was a replica of Darth Revan's from Star Wars.
For the record, Star Wars did not exist in this world.
Which made the mask uniquely mine.
It wasn't just for aesthetics, though I refused to deny that it looked incredible. My features were recognisable enough that if some vampire managed to escape and tell a story, I preferred it not to include a detailed facial description. The mask solved that problem efficiently.
I also had a set of Sith-style robes, modified for mobility. Lightweight and flexible in motion without restricting combat. Yes, I had been a fan of Star Wars in my previous life.
And no, the outfit was not about looking cool and intimidating.
…It was only partially about that.
I slipped the mask on, adjusted it until it fit perfectly, and draped the robe over my shoulders. Then I activated my disguise ability.
My silhouette shimmered faintly before blurring into near-invisibility. The air around me subtly distorted, bending light into a controlled shell around my body. It wasn't true invisibility; it was more like advanced refraction, reflecting and redirecting light waves so that the space I occupied blended seamlessly into the background.
At least, that was the most logical explanation I could construct.
And the best part? I didn't have to be naked to use it.
That realisation alone was worth appreciating.
Satisfied, I stepped into the backyard and summoned my wings.
They unfolded from my back in a smooth, powerful motion, majestic white-gold feathers catching the last light of the sunset. I turned slightly, observing them from the corner of my eye, flexing them once to feel the strength in each span. They were enormous, beautiful. And terrifying.
I looked up at the sky.
Bent my knees. And jumped.
The ground dropped away instantly as I launched several dozen meters into the air before my wings beat downward with controlled force. The second pulse of movement propelled me higher, and then I shot upward like an arrow released from a bow.
I climbed until I reached the altitude I preferred, then levelled my flight and adjusted direction.
Below, darkness had already begun to claim the streets. Houses were reduced to dim shapes and scattered lights. But up here, the sun still lingered at the edge of the world, a burning orange line across the horizon.
I glided forward at a relaxed cruising speed, around 250 miles per hour, air flowing smoothly around me, the world quiet except for the steady rhythm of my wings.
Hunting season had officially begun.
_____________________
Time skip
Now, it was March.
Not January, like I had confidently assumed when I first transmigrated.
I had been absolutely certain Bella would arrive in January. That's how it happened in the books. But after discreetly checking a few sources, I confirmed that she was still in Phoenix well past New Year's.
Which meant either the timeline here was slightly off… or in this world, events followed the movie timeline instead of the books.
Turns out, she arrives sometime in March. The exact date? Unclear, annoyingly unclear.
And I refused to enrol in a damn high school earlier than necessary.
I had already endured that phase once in my previous life. I survived awkward classrooms, pointless group projects, hormonal chaos, and teachers who thought PowerPoint slides were cutting-edge innovation. Doing it again voluntarily felt like serving a second prison sentence just for fun.
I genuinely could not understand how the Cullens managed it repeatedly.
For decades. And they even collected the graduation hats.
If it were me? I would've burned them. All of them. Make a ceremonial bonfire out of redundant graduation certificates and call it symbolic closure.
Same classes. Same teenage drama. Over and over again.
That wasn't immortality. That was psychological torture.
But I wanted to see the movie scenes unfold in real time. The drama. The awkward stares. Edward's existential crisis in real time. Bella tripping over oxygen molecules. Maybe I'd sit in the cafeteria with popcorn and a coca-cola, observing the masterpiece of teenage tension from a safe distance.
Purely as an observer, of course.
Which brought me to the present moment.
I stood near the private boarding gate, hands tucked casually into the pockets of my coat, watching rain streak down the tall airport windows. The sky outside was a dull sheet of grey, matching the runway below. Forks' aesthetic had apparently decided to greet me early.
Near me stood Alfred.
He was still deeply unhappy with my decision.
Ark was no longer a small experiment. Capitalisation hovered around 150 million dollars. The engineering modelling software was already disrupting parts of the market, forcing older companies to scramble for updates. The Game of Thrones and other books were performing well, though I knew it would truly explode once adapted properly.
In short, things were moving.
And I was voluntarily relocating to a tiny rainy town in Washington to finish the last months of high school.
"Still think this is a bad idea," Alfred said, his voice calm but edged with concern.
I turned toward him, smiling faintly.
"You are moving across the country," he said slowly, "for a couple of months of high school."
"Yes."
"Rainy town. You're going to be alone in the middle of nowhere. A sleepy little city with barely four thousand people and absolutely nothing to do," he continued, ticking them off mentally.
"And yet," I replied, "exactly where I want to be."
He studied me carefully, as if trying to determine whether this was strategic genius or mild insanity.
"That is not reassuring."
I chuckled. "Alfred, I'm not abandoning Ark."
"You say that", he replied dryly, "but from my perspective, you are seventeen, wealthy, handsome, and voluntarily disappearing into a forest."
"When you phrase it like that, it does sound questionable."
"Extremely."
I leaned back slightly against the railing, lowering my voice. "I need this … a pause. A different environment."
He watched me for a long moment before sighing and adjusting his glasses.
"You've built something real, Samael," he said more quietly.
"I didn't build it alone," I answered.
That made him pause.
Truth was, this was exactly why I had chosen someone like him. Someone who could carry weight without constant supervision.
I wanted to be rich.
I did not want to work like a donkey.
"I suppose there's no stopping you."
"Nope."
"Of course, there isn't," Alfred sighed. He understood now that I wasn't going to change my mind.
"You'll remain in daily contact," he said, shifting back into operational mode.
"Constantly."
"You'll review reports."
"Daily."
"And if anything is off-"
"I'll be back before you finish the sentence."
That earned the faintest, reluctant smile from him.
Boarding was announced shortly after.
He extended his hand.
"Good luck, sir."
I shook it firmly.
"Take care of Ark," I said.
"Always," he replied.
I stepped onto the private jet, nothing excessive, practical for domestic travel.
Took my seat near the window.
As the engines powered up, I felt it again.
That hum beneath my ribs.
Excitement and anticipation.
The runway blurred beneath us, rain streaking sideways as we accelerated. Then the nose lifted, the ground fell away, and the city shrank into patterns of light and steel.
I looked west.
"I'm really going to see them in person," I muttered under my breath. "No camera angles, no dramatic soundtrack."
A grin tugged at my lips.
Then there was the quieter thought.
The slightly annoying one.
The girl I once had a crush on is going to be very close.
"Right in front of me," I murmured to myself.
A quiet breath left me. "But too far to reach. In someone else's arms."
On screen, it was digestible. Entertaining, even.
Up close?
That would be an entirely different story.
Life was funny like that.
You don't get everything.
Still, I wasn't worried.
Maybe I would find my own mate.
Someone who would look at me and see me, the real me.
"Heh," I exhaled softly. "Every man's allowed to dream."
The plane climbed higher, piercing through the thick layer of clouds until we emerged above them into golden sunlight.
"Wait for me, Forks," I whispered, watching the horizon stretch endlessly ahead.
"I'm coming."