The test sat on the edge of the bathroom sink, small and unassuming.
Renee stared at it longer than she needed to.
Two lines.
Clear. Unmistakable.
For a moment, she simply breathed—slow and deliberate, palms resting against the cool porcelain. This wasn't shock. They had chosen this. Prepared for it. Still, knowledge did not dull the weight of what it meant.
Not just a child.
A future that mattered.
She closed her eyes and acknowledged it privately, the way she did with all things of consequence.
'This is real,' she told herself. 'And it is mine to protect.'
The system waited, as if giving her the courtesy of silence.
---
She told Charlie that night.
No theatrics. No setup. She handed him the test and watched understanding bloom across his face in stages—confusion, wonder, fear, and finally something deeper and steadier than any of them.
He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, hands trembling slightly as he looked at her.
"Renee," he said, voice rough. "Are you—are you okay?"
She smiled softly. "I am."
He pulled her into his arms without thinking, holding her like something fragile and invaluable all at once. She leaned down placing her forehead on his neck, his heartbeat was fast, grounding, alive.
"I'm scared," he admitted quietly. They shifted so their foreheads were pressed against each others. "But I'm… I'm so glad. And I won't mess this up."
Renee kissed him, slow and certain. "We won't."
[SYSTEM LOG]
[PARTNER RESPONSE: IDEAL]
[Attachment Type: DEVOTIONAL, NON-COERCIVE]
---
That night, after Charlie fell asleep, Renee slipped from the bed and opened the system interface.
The shift was immediate.
[HIGH-VALUE NARRATIVE ASSET CONFIRMED]
[Protection Priority: MAXIMUM
Threat Assessment: EXPANDED]
New layers unfolded—predictive modeling, environmental risk scans, social exposure calculations. Forks glowed softly as a low-risk zone, but distant markers flickered at the edges of the map.
Not yet.
But coming.
Renee began to plan.
Medical contingencies rooted firmly in mundane care. Emotional safeguards for stress spikes. Community buffers strengthened quietly through the café and her writing. No visible magic. No anomalies. Everything plausible, everything human.
She did not seek invincibility.
She sought time.
The mission alert appeared as she finalized her notes.
[MISSION ACTIVE]
[Protect the Unwritten Future
Reward Pending: +12,000 SC]
Renee rested a hand against her abdomen, feeling nothing yet—and everything all at once.
This child did not belong to prophecy or canon.
They belonged to choice.
To quiet preparation. To love without illusion. To a future that would be defended not by destiny, but by intention.
She closed the interface and returned to bed, curling carefully against Charlie's warmth.
Outside, Forks slept beneath the rain, unaware that something precious had entered the world.
And Renee, sunshine of Forks, stayed awake just long enough to promise—silently, fiercely—that nothing would take this future from them without a fight.