Authors notes

Hello readers how are you.

The last Edenian is a reworking of Swansong, which was riddled with errors and had a complicated plot that was difficult to follow. This is the simplified version, which has fewer distractions and more coherent events. A few characters have been modified or completely swapped out.

As a budding writer, your reviews are very important to me, so I will be answering them with every chapter I release.

Apologies in advance for the foul language,

Thank you for the reviews and enjoy the story, and feel free to leave a review if you have any comments or questions; this will help the story get better.

CHAPTER FIVE

Edenian Might

The day passed much like the others in Forks. School was repetitive, and I found myself drifting through lectures that covered material I'd long since mastered. The monotony only underscored the moments of interest that punctuated my days.

One of those moments was a conversation I had with Carlisle. I'd mentioned my growing interest in pursuing a medical degree, with the ultimate goal of becoming a doctor. His face had lit up with genuine enthusiasm.

"That's an excellent path, Dorian," he'd said, his tone warm and encouraging. "Your grades are impressive—stellar, really. If you maintain this level of excellence, I have no doubt you'll earn a scholarship."

Carlisle had even offered to mentor me, sharing advice and guidance to prepare me for the rigorous journey ahead. "I'll call your father," he added, "to discuss how I can help support your ambitions." I agreed, grateful for his support, and left our conversation feeling motivated.

At lunch, I joined the Cullens, as had become my routine. Edward and Bella now sat at their own table, their cat-and-mouse game continuing but with a noticeable shift. It seemed Edward was finally taking my advice and making an effort to move things forward. Rosalie, however, was visibly irritated, her perfect face twisted into an expression of disdain.

and though I was tempted to pry into her thoughts, I respected her too much to do that without permission. Instead, I asked, "What's eating you, Rosalie?"

"Nothing," she replied curtly, her golden eyes flicking toward me before she returned her focus to the table. It was clear she didn't want to talk about it.

Alice interrupted my thoughts with a light pat on my shoulder. "So, Dory," she said with a grin, leaning forward eagerly. "What are your plans for today?"

"Probably just playing some games when I get home," I replied, shrugging.

Her grin widened. "Why not come over to our place? We could play some board games I have!"

Suspicious, I looked over at Jasper. "What's the catch? That sounds too good to be true."

Jasper chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "The catch is she cheats. She uses her visions to predict your moves."

Alice gasped in mock indignation. "I do not cheat!"

I laughed. "Oh, I've got to see this."

Jasper smirked. "You say that now, but just wait until you're losing. You'll be screaming in frustration."

"Okay shortie, game night is on," I declared, grinning at Alice.

She whooped quietly, punching the air in victory, while Jasper and Emmett laughed at her antics

After school, I went home to drop off my things and change into something more comfortable. Before leaving, I let Bella know I'd be at the Cullens' house until late.

"Okay Dory, I'll let Dad know," she said absently, flipping through one of her books.

Satisfied, I grabbed my keys and headed out, my Civic rumbling softly as I drove through the damp, winding roads toward the Cullens' estate.

The drive was uneventful until I spotted a figure standing in the middle of the road, waving me down. He was a large man, broad-shouldered and muscular, dressed in what looked like 80s rocker attire—leather pants and a tattered vest. Dirt smudged his face and clothes.

Hiking? In that? I frowned, but pulled over to the side of the road.

"Can I help you, sir?" I asked as I approached cautiously.

The man's voice was thick with a British accent. "It's me wife, lad. She's stuck under a rock, and I can't get her free."

Something about him felt off, but I nodded. "Lead the way."

He jogged off, and I followed easily, keeping pace. The forest grew denser as we moved further from the road, and unease began to settle in my chest. His scent was wrong—not quite human. My unease deepened when I reached out telepathically and found his mind shrouded, impenetrable. What the hell was this guy?

We stopped in a small clearing surrounded by towering trees. I glanced around. "okay, so where's your wife?"

The man's lips curled into a grin, revealing yellow teeth that were far sharper than they should have been. Then he started laughing—a deep, guttural sound that made the hairs on my neck stand on end.

"You're too easy to fool, boy," he sneered. "Naïve little pup, walking straight into my trap."

Before I could respond, figures emerged from the shadows—five of them. Three men and two women. They moved with unnatural grace, their eyes gleaming with malice. How had I missed their heartbeats? I'd been paying attention yet had not picked up on them.

The large man spread his arms wide, his voice booming with triumph. "My mistress will be pleased with me. She'll make me stronger for this! Edenian, today you fall at the might of Hansel's pack!"

The word Edenian sent a chill through me. This wasn't a random encounter, and what the hell was an Edenian?

"Attack, bring me his head!" he roared.

The five figures surrounding me began to shift, their bodies contorting grotesquely. Skin tore as they grew taller, muscles bulging beneath thick fur. Their faces elongated into snouts, and claws extended from their fingertips.

Werewolves. During the day? Great. Just my luck.

I squared my shoulders and readied myself, adrenaline coursing through my veins. "Fine," I muttered under my breath. "Let's see what you've got."

The five wolves attacked simultaneously, their growls reverberating through the forest like a haunting symphony of death. Hansel stood back, arms crossed and a twisted grin on his face, clearly enjoying the spectacle. They were fast—blindingly so—but not faster than me. As they closed the distance, I focused my hydrokinetic abilities, forming jagged ice gauntlets around my hands and forearms, each shimmering faintly in the forest light.

I tried to pierce their minds for an advantage, but they were shielded, as though wrapped in layers of psychic armor. Who could even do that? If it were just Hansel, I'd chalk it up to a rare talent, but the entire pack? No. Someone powerful was behind this. Someone pulling the strings. And who was this "mistress" Hansel had mentioned? My thoughts were interrupted as two wolves lunged at me; claws aimed for my throat.

I stepped into their attack, deflecting the slashes with my gauntlets. The impact sent cold shocks through my arms, but I didn't falter. My counterattacks were swift and brutal—short, precise punches that sent the wolves flying back into the trees with pained yelps. Before I could breathe, the other three came at me, their movements coordinated. They split into a triangle, trying to surround me.

I dropped low, weaving between their attacks, my telekinesis augmenting my agility. A claw swiped past my head, close enough to stir my hair, but I sidestepped and lashed out with a whip of crackling blue lightning, striking one wolf square in the chest. It snarled in pain but didn't go down. A fireball erupted from my palm, forcing another to leap back, singeing its fur.

Despite my efforts, their numbers overwhelmed me. A sharp pain ripped through my chest as one of them finally landed a hit, its claws tearing deep gashes into my torso. I staggered back, gritting my teeth against the pain. Blood seeped through my shirt, hot and sticky, but I forced myself to stand tall. Slamming my foot into the ground, I released a telekinetic shockwave that sent all five wolves sprawling.

I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling the warmth of my own blood. "I don't want to hurt you," I said, my voice firm but calm. "But I will if I'm forced."

Hansel laughed, a deep, mocking sound that cut through the tension like a knife. "Oh, but we do want to hurt you, little Edenian. And when we're done here..." He paused, his grin widening into something sickening. "I'll visit your cop father. And your little sister...oh, she'll be delicious. The pack and I will have our way with her while your dear old dad watches. Then we'll eat them both. Piece by piece."

The pack erupted into laughter, their amusement cold and cruel. Their howls of mirth hinted at experience—this wasn't just a threat. It was a promise. My blood boiled, my vision blurring with pure rage. No one threatened my family and lived to laugh about it. No one.

The ice around my gauntlets ignited into blue flames wreathed in crackling electricity. I didn't care about holding back anymore. They wanted power? I'd give them wrath. "You want power, you dogs?" I growled, stepping forward. "Then allow me to give you a taste."

The first werewolf charged at me, trying to circle to my exposed flank. I was ready. I met his lunge head-on, grabbing him by the throat and twisting. His head came off with a sickening crunch, his body collapsing in a heap.

The second wolf swiped at me with both claws, aiming for my face. I caught his wrists, feeling the bones snap beneath my grip. With a roar, I drop-kicked him, tearing his arms clean off in the process. Blood sprayed across the clearing as I tossed one arm aside and wielded the other like a club.

The third wolf hesitated, but I didn't. I swung the severed limb with all my strength, striking her square in the chest. She flew through the air, slamming into a cluster of trees with a yelp of pain. The crash echoed through the forest.

The fourth wolf rushed at me, claws extended, desperation in its eyes. I raised my hand, and the ground responded. Jagged spikes of rock erupted from the earth, impaling the creature mid-lunge. Its howl of agony filled the clearing before I ended it with an ice spike that pierced its heart.

The fifth wolf froze, its fur bristling, its amber eyes wide with terror. It looked back at Hansel, silently begging for orders. "Attack, you fool!" Hansel barked.

The wolf hesitated, then lunged, a last-ditch effort to follow its alpha's command. I stopped it mid-air with my telekinesis, holding it in place as it thrashed and howled. Slowly, I clenched my fist, and its body began to fold inward. Bones cracked and flesh squelched as I compressed it into a grotesque ball. Its cries faded into wet gurgles before silence fell.

Even Hansel took a step back, his confidence replaced by raw fear. I stepped forward, blood dripping from my wounds, my chest heaving. My rage burned hotter than the flames around my fists.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I growled, my voice low and dangerous. "Talking about my family like that?"

Hansel's lips moved, but no words came out.

I continued, each step bringing me closer to him. "You're going to wish you never existed, you canine fuck."

Hansel stood amidst the carnage; his eyes fixed on the torn remains of his pack. To my surprise, a deep, guttural laugh bubbled up from him, echoing through the blood-soaked clearing. It wasn't the laugh of a defeated man—it was cold, cruel, and unnervingly amused.

"Has seeing your pack slaughtered broken you, wolf?" I taunted, my voice sharp with defiance, though I was wary of his reaction.

Hansel turned his glowing red eyes toward me, his grin widening. "Broken me? No, little Edenian. I underestimated you. My mistress believed you weak—just a fledgling playing with powers you didn't deserve. Clearly, we were wrong. You fooled everyone. But no longer." His voice deepened, a guttural growl lacing his words. "Now, the real fight begins."

Before I could respond, his body began to shift grotesquely. Bones snapped and reformed with wet, crunching sounds. Muscles bulged and stretched as his human frame expanded into something monstrous. Thick black fur erupted from his skin, his face elongating into a snout filled with razor-sharp teeth. Claws extended from his hands, glowing crimson and radiating an intense heat that warped the air around them. When his transformation finished, Hansel towered over me, over eight feet of raw, bestial power. His glowing red eyes burned like molten coals, his growl shaking the very ground beneath us.

I tightened my fists, channeling water from a nearby stream into swirling coils around my arms. Sparks of fire crackled at my fingertips, and I could feel the earth beneath me responding to my fury. The air was heavy with tension, the forest alive with the creak of branches and the whisper of the wind.

Hansel moved first, lunging with blinding speed. I barely had time to react, throwing up a telekinetic shield just as his molten claws struck. The shield cracked like glass under the force, and I was sent flying backward, slamming into a tree with bone-jarring impact. Bark exploded around me, and I fell to the ground, coughing as pain radiated through my ribs. My fast-healing abilities kicked in, dulling the sharp edges of the pain, but I knew this fight would test my limits.

The werewolf snarled, molten claws slashing through the air as it charged again. This time, I called on the earth, stomping hard to raise a jagged wall of stone between us. Hansel shattered it with a single swipe, the fragments raining down as I rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a downward strike that left molten claw marks sizzling in the dirt.

I retaliated with a roaring blast of fire, engulfing the beast in flames. The inferno crackled and roared, but Hansel emerged unscathed, the fire unable to penetrate his enchanted form. He swiped at me again, this time grazing my arm. Agonizing heat surged through me as his claws raked my flesh, leaving charred wounds that resisted my healing factor.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I refocused. Water from the stream answered my call, forming a vortex around me. I combined it with a gust of wind, creating a whirling cyclone that battered Hansel. The beast roared in defiance, digging his claws into the ground to anchor himself. His strength was monstrous, but the storm slowed him just enough.

Seizing the moment, I hurled a massive boulder at his torso with my telekinesis. Hansel shattered it with a swing of his claws, but the distraction gave me the opening I needed. I surged forward with superspeed, channeling every ounce of strength, geo-kinesis, and fury into one devastating punch. My fist connected with his chest, and a shockwave rippled through the air. The impact sent Hansel hurtling backward, slamming into a massive tree. The trunk splintered, wood exploding outward as the werewolf collapsed in a heap.

For a moment, the forest was silent, save for my ragged breathing. Blood dripped from my wounds, and my muscles screamed with exhaustion. But I stood tall, my fists raised, ready for another strike. Hansel stirred, his claws dimming as his panting grew heavier. He rose shakily, his glowing red eyes locking with mine. Then, with a low growl, he turned and bolted into the forest, his massive form vanishing into the shadows.

I exhaled, relief mingling with the ache of my injuries. My legs felt like lead, but before I could collapse, movement caught my eye. Jasper, Alice, and Emmett entered the clearing, their faces a mix of confusion and alarm as they took in the scene of gore and destruction.

"Dory, what the hell happened to you?" Alice asked, her voice laced with concern.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the world tilted. "I… was… attacked," I managed to say before exhaustion finally won over and darkness claimed me, and I collapsed onto the forest floor.

The air around me felt heavy yet ethereal as I stood in the strange, dimly lit world. The swirling white mist barely shifted, clinging to the gray-black ground under my feet. Above me, the sky stretched infinitely, an oppressive pitch-black void that somehow allowed enough ambient light for me to see. The oppressive silence was broken only by the sound of my footsteps as I moved cautiously forward.

In the distance, something shimmered—a shape slowly coalescing into focus. As I walked closer, recognition struck me like a hammer. It was my old house. The exact one I had lived in with Mom and Bella back in Phoenix. Every detail was perfect—the faded beige paint on the siding, the cracked stone path leading up to the front porch, and even the potted plants Mom had always tried (and failed) to keep alive.

I reached the door, hesitant but driven by an inexplicable pull. My hand hovered over the doorknob before finally gripping it. Turning it slowly, I pushed the door open.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice echoing faintly into the stillness.

There was no reply. The house felt eerily quiet, a hollow version of the place I once called home. I stepped inside, finding myself in the living room. My breath caught as I realized it was completely empty. No furniture. No pictures. Just a blank, sterile space.

Except for her.

She stood in the center of the room, a vision of impossible beauty. Her flawless skin glowed faintly, as if lit from within, and her striking features were so perfect they bordered on surreal. Her golden eyes shimmered with a knowing light, framed by long, dark lashes. A long, flowing robe of deep blue and silver adorned her, its intricate patterns shifting like liquid as she moved slightly.

I froze, my gut tightening instinctively. This woman could give Rosalie a run for her money, and Rosalie was practically perfection incarnate.

"Hello, Dorian," she said, her honeyed voice warm yet carrying an almost otherworldly power.

I blinked, my wariness growing. "Who are you? What do you want? Where am I? Am I dead?" The questions tumbled out of my mouth in rapid succession.

She smiled, a dazzling, radiant smile that felt like it could melt away anyone's defenses. "No, you are not dead, Dorian," she said gently. "You are currently unconscious, lying in Dr. Cullen's office. This place…" She gestured around us with a graceful sweep of her hand. "This is your mindscape. An astral plane within your mind, crafted to allow us to communicate."

My heart pounded, unease swirling in my chest. "Communicate? Why? Who are you?"

Her smile softened as she took a step closer. Despite her approachable demeanor, there was something deeply intimidating about her presence. "I am your creator. Well… a piece of her, anyway."

I stared at her, confusion and disbelief flooding me. "Creator? As in, you created the human race or something?"

She laughed—a light, melodic sound that seemed to vibrate through the air. "No, not quite. I am the one responsible for the 'goo,' as you call it, that bonded with you. It was my design, my creation."

My brain was racing, trying to process this revelation. "Wait. You're telling me you created that… thing that crashed into me? That gave me powers?"

"Yes," she replied simply, her voice tinged with pride.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the onset of a major headache. "Okay," I said, exhaling sharply. "Please start from the beginning. I think I deserve to know everything."

She inclined her head slightly, her golden eyes glinting. "Very well. Sit, Dorian. This will take some time to explain."

I looked around for something to sit on, but a plush chair materialized behind me the moment I thought about it. I sank into it, bracing myself.

And then, she began.

The beautiful woman's smile carried a faint melancholy as she spoke again, her voice filled with both pride and sorrow. "My name is Lyra Vynthiel," she began, her golden eyes meeting mine. "I am—or was—a scientist from the planet Edenia, a world in a distant galaxy far removed from this one."

"Edenia…" I repeated, the name foreign yet strangely resonant.

"Yes, Edenia," she continued. "An advanced civilization dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, progress, and compassion. My people, the Edenians, were a race that looked much like your own—humanoid in appearance—but gifted with powerful psychic abilities. Despite these abilities, we were, at heart, a peaceful people. We sought not to conquer but to help, to uplift struggling civilizations and guide them toward a better existence."

Her expression turned wistful as she explained. "Our psychic powers could make us formidable warriors, and some among us trained as such, but we chose not to use our gifts for war. We valued understanding and creation over destruction."

I listened in stunned silence as she began to unravel the story.

"I created the Catalyst," she said, her voice tinged with both pride and regret. "The 'goo,' as you so affectionately called it. It is a bio-engineered change engine, designed to rewrite the DNA of its host into that of an Edenian. The idea was simple: to grant uplifted civilizations their own champion—a powerful, immortal guardian who could defend their people when we could not."

"That's… insane," I muttered, struggling to process what she was saying.

Lyra nodded slightly. "Perhaps. But the intentions were noble. For a time, the Catalyst brought peace to the civilizations we uplifted. It empowered their chosen champions to protect their worlds from threats both internal and external. But one world changed everything."

Her golden eyes darkened as she continued, her voice carrying a weight of old pain. "Noctaria. A planet with a tribal society of human-like beings we called Noctarians. They had pointed ears and were fierce by nature, a warmongering people. We uplifted them, hoping to instill wisdom and peace. Instead, they turned their newfound knowledge and the Catalyst to conquest."

My stomach sank as she continued.

"The Noctarians, under the rule of their leader, Kragas Vornyx—a being engineered by the Catalyst—began conquering the other uplifted worlds. They claimed the technology we gave those civilizations, pillaged their resources, and slaughtered countless innocents. Kragas was unlike any other champion created by the Catalyst. He learned to absorb the powers of other engineered Edenians, those we had created to defend those worlds."

She paused, her voice heavy with grief. "He became a living weapon, a terror. They called him the Breaker of Empires."

A chill ran down my spine. "What happened then?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

"Kragas amassed such strength that he turned his attention to Edenia itself. By the time we found out what he was doing, it was too late. His war machine had grown unstoppable, and his forces unleashed devastation across our galaxy. We fought back, of course, but the cost was immeasurable. The war between his empire and Edenia left both sides shattered."

Her gaze seemed to pierce through me as she spoke. "My people and I realized there was no victory to be found—not in that galaxy. With a few hundred thousand survivors, we fled. We left our home, our history, everything behind. We traveled across the void, hoping to start anew in a distant galaxy."

"Earth," I murmured.

Lyra nodded. "Yes, Earth. We thought we had found a sanctuary, a place to rebuild. But Kragas, with what remained of his forces, hunted us down. He had exterminated the remnants of Edenia in the galaxy we had fled. Then he came for us here. The battles that followed devastated us both—his forces and ours. The fleets were destroyed, leaving no way for either side to leave this planet. In the end, only Kragas and I remained."

Her voice faltered slightly as she continued, a sadness deepening her golden gaze. "I was the last of my people, the final hope of Edenia. I could not defeat Kragas alone, but I could ensure our legacy endured. I built another Catalyst and poured three-quarters of my power into it. Then, I cast it into space, where it would orbit Earth, waiting for a worthy champion to bond with."

I stared at her, struggling to believe what I was hearing. "So… what happened to you? And to Kragas?"

Lyra's expression softened with sorrow. "This version of me, stored in the Catalyst, doesn't know for certain. I wasn't there for the final confrontation. But if I had to guess…" She hesitated, then continued. "I believe I fought Kragas one last time. It is likely I perished in the battle, but not before weakening him. I had hoped the Catalyst would find a champion in time to finish what I could not."

Her words left a heavy silence hanging between us. The weight of the story, of her pain and sacrifice, settled over me like a crushing tide.

"And that champion… is me," I said, the realization hitting me.

"Yes, Dorian," Lyra said, her voice both somber and hopeful. "You carry the legacy of Edenia. You are our last hope."

I stood frozen, my thoughts reeling as Lyra's words sank in. Her revelation was almost too much to process. An entire race gone. Their legacy resting on me. And a space tyrant poised to enslave my world if I fail.

Lyra's golden eyes softened as she stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. Her touch was warm, grounding me amidst the chaos swirling in my mind.

"My people are gone, Dorian," she said, her voice tinged with both sorrow and resolve. "You are all that remains of the Edenian legacy. Protect your world from the threat of Kragas. If he discovers your existence, he will stop at nothing to find you, to kill you, and to absorb your power. And once he does that, he will be unstoppable. Your world will fall, and humanity will become another of his enslaved civilizations."

I swallowed hard, her words cutting like a blade. "So, I'm all that stands between Earth and its destruction?" I asked bitterly, my fists clenching. "How am I supposed to do that? I couldn't even defeat one of his minions, Lyra. Hansel almost killed me, and I barely escaped with my life."

Lyra's grip on my shoulder tightened, her expression fierce. "You are not weak, Dorian. You fought off those werewolves alone. You faced Hansel, a creature enhanced by Kragas's own power, and while you may not have defeated him outright, you survived. That alone is proof of your strength."

She took a step back, her golden eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and determination. "And your body has grown stronger from it. Strong enough for me to break the first bind of my power."

I blinked, confusion swirling within me. "Bind? What bind?"

Lyra chuckled softly, her voice carrying a note of affection. "The Catalyst within you is a vessel of immense power, my power, Dorian. If all of it were released into your body at once, it would destroy you. The power is sealed in binds, each one holding back a portion of the strength within. As your body grows stronger, the binds can be broken, releasing more power. Breaking the first bind will make you far stronger than you were before. But it will still take time to master it."

I nodded slowly, the explanation making sense. "So… the goo—it's still a part of me, right? It hasn't been broken down or anything?"

"Yes," she said, her lips curling into a faint smile. "The Catalyst is very much alive within you. It has bonded with you completely. You are its host, and it is your tool. Together, you will grow stronger."

A thought struck me, and I couldn't help but ask, "Did you or Kragas have anything to do with the existence of vampires or werewolves?"

Lyra's expression turned thoughtful, and she nodded. "It's possible. When other me fought Kragas on Earth and managed to depower him—if only partially—the immense psychic energy she unleashed seeped into this planet. At that time, early humans were still primitive, living in caves and hunting with stone tools. The psychic energy we left behind may have influenced their evolution, creating sub-species such as vampires, werewolves, and even humans with unique gifts."

I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "So, what you're saying is… you're kind of the accidental mother of monsters?"

She chuckled, a rich sound that seemed to momentarily ease the tension in the air. "I suppose you could put it that way."

"How old are you, exactly?" I asked, half-joking.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Older than your planet," she replied simply.

I stared at her for a moment, then nodded. "Weirdly enough, that… actually makes sense."

Her smile faded, replaced by a seriousness that sent a chill down my spine. "Dorian, you cannot do this alone. You must seek allies among the supernatural creatures of your world. Vampires, werewolves, witches—anyone willing to stand against Kragas. The fight ahead will require more than just your strength."

I nodded, understanding the weight of her words. "And what about you? You said you don't know what happened during your last battle with Kragas. Should I… try to find out?"

"Yes, please do," she said firmly. "If you can uncover what happened to me, and how I managed to weaken Kragas, it could be the key to defeating him. Seek out the answers, Dorian. They will guide you toward the path you must take."

Her gaze bore into mine, her golden eyes shimmering with a mix of hope and determination. "The survival of your world depends on it."