The late afternoon sun slipped low behind the trees, casting long golden rays through the clearing behind the Cullen home. It was quiet too quiet except for the occasional shifting of weight, the subtle crackle of tension building in the air.
Kane stood barefoot in the middle of the field, shirtless, arms relaxed at his sides. He looked completely at ease, like he didn't care that seven vampires were preparing to throw everything they had at him.
Carla watched from a few paces back, her expression neutral. But this wasn't a casual family outing. This was a test.
"We've seen enough to know you're different," she said, voice smooth but firm. "Now we want to understand how different."
Kane smirked. "You sure you want to know?"
"No games," Edith said, stepping forward. "Just show us."
Kane cracked his neck lazily. "Then come get it."
Edith moved first faster than sound. One second she was still, the next she was a blur aimed at his side. But Kane didn't dodge. He caught her wrist mid-swing like it was nothing, his grip solid and unshakable.
She pushed harder, her strength enough to tear through steel but his hand didn't move. Then, with terrifying ease, he flipped her over his shoulder and sent her skidding backward across the grass. She caught herself and landed on her feet, stunned but silent.
Rosalie didn't wait. She launched herself at him without warning, fists flying in a whirlwind of blows. Kane blocked every strike calmly no wasted movement, no struggle. Just perfect precision. She ducked low, sweeping at his legs. He jumped over the attempt, landed behind her, and gave her a light shove that made her stumble forward.
"Come on!" she snapped, frustration sharpening her voice. "Take this seriously!"
"I am," he said, with a smile that was anything but mocking.
She grit her teeth and lunged again, but this time he stepped around her and let her momentum carry her past him. He wasn't fighting them. He was studying them.
Emily moved next, fast and fluid, darting in with short, controlled strikes. Her blows came at odd angles, each one meant to test reflexes more than power. Kane didn't block he preempted. Before her arm moved, he was already two steps ahead. He was reading muscles, breathing, balance.
Watching everything.
Jasmine joined in silently, attempting to flank him with Emily. They struck together one from behind, one from the front.
Kane vanished.
A blur. A breath. Gone.
Jasmine froze mid-strike. Then, a whisper brushed the back of her neck:
"You hesitated."
She turned fast but he was already standing ten feet away, hands in his pockets.
Alice hadn't moved yet. She simply watched, her eyes locked on him with intense, silent fascination. Her visions weren't helping he was a blank space. Every path she saw blurred or ended in static the moment Kane entered it.
She couldn't predict him.
She hated that.
And she loved it.
Esme stood beside Carla, eyes full of curiosity and concern. She didn't need to test him herself she could see it in her children. The slight shift in their stances. The deeper, slower breaths. The realization dawning on every face.
Kane wasn't like them.
He wasn't like anything.
Carla finally stepped forward. She looked at the others her daughters, her family each of them still processing what they'd seen.
He turned his attention to her, eyes sharp but calm. "Is that enough?"
She met his gaze without blinking. "I think we understand now."
He tilted his head slightly. "You sure?"
"No," she admitted, "but we will be."
No one spoke. The wind rustled through the trees, and in the quiet, something shifted. Not fear. Not awe.
Recognition.
They hadn't tested him.
He'd revealed himself.
And it was only the beginning.