A/N: I had to mess with the canonical timeline a bit here, but it's with good reason.

Caius POV

Snow had just begun to fall when my phone rang—not the one on my desk, which would have signaled matters of state, but my personal device. Few had this number. Fewer still would dare use it without good reason. That left only two possibilities: family or the Guard.

I retrieved the phone from my pocket, glancing at the caller ID. Isabella.

I answered at once. "Isabella," I said, my tone expectant. "Is everything alright?"

The voice that responded was not hers, but Jasper Whitlock's. That alone was enough to set my nerves on edge.

"Bella has intel on this mission," he stated. "Information that may be of use to you and the other Kings."

That caught my full attention. "Give me a moment," I replied. "I will summon my brothers. Then you may tell us everything."

Without hesitation, I placed a call to Aro's office. He was there, as expected. "Find Marcus," I instructed. "Meet me in my office. Immediately."

As I waited, the Major wasted no time delivering a succinct but thorough debrief. He outlined our positions, forces, and any injuries or casualties, then moved on to the mineshaft and its latest discoveries. His plans for dealing with the Romanians were well-structured, and while I rarely found reason to commend outsiders, I had to admit I appreciated his efficiency.

He was just finishing his summary of Raymond's concerns when the doors burst open.

Marcus entered first, as indifferent as ever, a book in hand and the scent of aged parchment clinging to him—evidence he had been in the library when Aro had retrieved him. Aro himself, ever the dramatist, perched atop my desk with a smirk, lifting the phone to his lips.

"We're all here," he announced smoothly, signaling the conversation was about to begin.

I rolled my eyes at his antics as Bella began her debrief, recounting the chance meeting with Peter in the woods. She shared his words and her growing concern over the situation inside the Romanian stronghold—both the humans and the vampires within.

"What kind of experiments are they performing?" Aro asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Peter didn't know all the details," Isabella replied, "but he mentioned high-tech DNA research. They're looking into how to remove the vampire sparkle from our skin, among other things, I'm sure. And it's not just humans they're experimenting on—they're using newborn vampires as well."

I glanced at my brothers, noting the terror on Marcus's face and the seething hatred in Aro's eyes.

"How sophisticated is their set-up?" I pressed, my mind already racing with possibilities.

"I'm not sure," Bella said, shaking her head. "Peter didn't have those specifics, but he did tell me that Char is assigned to their security detail and is assisting with their more technological equipment."

The room fell into a heavy silence as the gravity of Bella's words sank in. I could see the thoughts swirling in Aro's mind, the same calculations and strategies running through my own. This was no longer just a matter of containing the Romanians; this was a direct assault on the very essence of our existence. Removing the telltale sparkle–for lack of a more accurate description–and tampering with the vampire physiology was something no one had dared to attempt before. It was a threat like no other.

Aro broke the silence first, his voice cold with controlled fury. "If they're successful, the consequences will be catastrophic. We cannot allow them to continue this research, Caius."

I nodded, my mind already shifting into military mode. "Indeed. But we need more information. We cannot risk a full-scale assault without knowing the full extent of their capabilities. Isabella, keep the plan as is for now. We may decide to change it, but if we do, we'll let you know."

I could hear her sigh through the phone, but I knew she'd comply with my request. "We will keep the status quo for now," she confirmed.

We didn't linger on the call after that; Aro, Marcus, and I had strategies to devise. I knew Marcus was already drafting the necessary documents to secure us entry into the Romanian stronghold, though with the new revelations about their plans, gaining access wouldn't be as simple as we had once thought.

We had believed they were after power, but it was something far more dangerous—knowledge.

Some things are better left untouched. Some truths are too inconvenient, too bizarre, to confront. But if the Romanians were truly researching vampire DNA and evolution, there was no telling what moral lines they might be willing to cross.

"What is our timeline?" I asked Aro, knowing he was thinking with a clearer head than I was. Every instinct screamed at me to storm the Romanian stronghold and tear their operation apart, but recklessness wouldn't win us this war. We had to be calculated.

"We'll keep it as is for now," Aro stated calmly. "We don't advance our timeline unless we have a compelling reason to do so."

"Experimenting on humans and newborns isn't reason enough, Aro?" Marcus challenged, his usually blank expression darkened with rare emotion—resentment and shock warring in his gaze.

"Yes, Marcus," Aro conceded, "it is reason enough. But what would we accomplish by acting prematurely? Rushing in now would leave us unprepared for whatever they have in store. We need more information before we make our move."

"We aren't getting any, Aro!" I nearly shouted, my patience wearing thin. "You heard Bella and the Major—it was sheer luck that Bella even ran into Peter tonight. There's no way for him or Charlotte to contact us. What makes you think we'll gather more intel before we arrive in Romania than what we already have?"

"We don't know that we won't!" Aro shot back, his voice sharp with frustration. "When was the last time either of you could see the future? We have no idea what tomorrow will bring. And unless you're suddenly eager to bring Alice Cullen into this earlier than necessary, we don't have a way to predict what comes next."

"What information do you think we're miraculously going to get, Aro?" I snapped.

"I would at least like to know what we're walking into!" he countered, his anger matching my own. "Or have you conveniently forgotten that they have a magician in their ranks? Because I haven't! Until we uncover more about the scope of these experiments, we will not—under any circumstances—move our timeline forward. Charging in blind is a risk we can't afford."

Truth be told, I hadn't forgotten about the magic we were up against. But with the Romanians delving into medical advancements—tangible, scientific experimentation—I hadn't considered magic to be the greater threat. Experiments left behind evidence, proof of their existence. Magic was unpredictable, yes, but it wasn't something you could lay your hands on. To me, the horrors brewing in their laboratories took precedence.

Aro turned to Marcus, who had been unsettlingly quiet throughout our exchange. His expression, as always, was unreadable.

"Marcus," Aro prompted, his tone measured, "what do you recommend?"

Marcus remained silent for a long moment, his gaze distant, as if sifting through centuries of experience before settling on the present. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but carried the weight of finality.

"We wait," he said simply.

I clenched my fists, barely holding back my frustration, but Aro merely inclined his head, urging him to continue.

"We lack the information needed to act with certainty, and a reckless move could cost us more than we're prepared to lose," Marcus said evenly. "The Romanians have waited centuries for an opportunity to reclaim power—if that is even their goal anymore. These experiments could be nothing more than desperation… or a carefully laid trap."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "It certainly didn't sound like a power grab to me."

Marcus barely acknowledged my interruption, his gaze still distant, calculating. "Then that raises an even greater concern, does it not?" he mused. "If power is no longer their primary goal, what is? What do they hope to achieve with these experiments? Immortality without weakness? A new breed of vampire? Or something else entirely? This is not an operation put together overnight. If everything that has been divulged is in fact true–and we have no reason to believe otherwise– the Romanians are playing a longer game than we realize."

Aro nodded thoughtfully, his fingers steepled in front of him. "If we move too soon, we risk walking into a trap we do not yet understand. If we move too late, we risk allowing them to complete whatever they're attempting. The balance is precarious."

I exhaled sharply, still unwilling to accept unnecessary delays. "So what do you suggest, Marcus? That we sit idly by while they tear apart humans and newborns for their twisted research?"

His dark eyes flickered between Aro and me. "We must be patient. We need intelligence, not brute force. That means utilizing every resource we have—Bella, the Major, Peter and Charlotte, for starters. And if it comes down to it, even our more reluctant allies."

I didn't want to discuss how bringing in reluctant allies would be the absolute worst mistake that we could make here, but it was certainly on my mind and something I hoped that Aro would forget about. "And if we get no further intelligence?" I countered, unwilling to accept unnecessary delays.

Marcus exhaled, slow and deliberate. "Then we proceed with caution, but not blind. We will go to Romania, but we will do so with purpose—not as conquerors, not as desperate kings seeking to squash an uprising, but as rulers ensuring the balance of our world is maintained. That's what this needs to be about for us. Balance."

His gaze settled on me. "I understand your anger, Caius. But if you let it rule you, you will walk into a war we may not win."

It didn't take long for both Marcus and Aro to finally talk some sense into me. I understood that we were in a precarious position and we couldn't do anything that might tip the scales in the Romanian's favor. Though I wasn't happy about the realization.

As my brothers turned to leave my office once we'd all calmed down, my hand lingered on the cell phone, the weight of the situation settling on my shoulders. This wasn't just about stopping a rebellion anymore. The Romanians weren't just fighting for power; they were playing with forces they didn't understand, forces that could change the balance of our world forever.

We were on the brink of something much bigger than any of us had anticipated. And if we didn't act quickly, the repercussions would be irreversible.

Another call shattered the silence—my cell again. Demetri.

I answered with a brisk, "Please tell me you have something," and waited as he spoke. My gaze drifted to the window, watching the snow fall in silent waves. Once, I had loved the snow. Now, it brought only a quiet sense of calm—a rare, fleeting luxury I wouldn't take for granted.

Beyond the growing storm in Romania, another issue lingered across the ocean. I had sent Demetri to the States on a separate mission, one that had nothing to do with ancient rivalries or supernatural experiments. This was personal. I wanted to know if there was any information to be found on Elizabeth or Edward Masen.

The last time I had the opportunity to truly reflect on Elizabeth and Edward, I had sent Demetri on the hunt for asylum records. While most such institutions had long since been disbanded, their records—provided they had been preserved properly—remained eternal. What once would have been a nearly impossible feat of research was now readily accessible to those with the right credentials. The internet, it seemed, knew everything.

But Demetri had always been a man of action, preferring tangible evidence over digital breadcrumbs. I could hardly fault him for it. The documents we sought were likely far too old, obscure, or inconvenient for modern record-keeping systems to have bothered archiving. If they existed, they would be long-abandoned, in storage areas somewhere, or buried in dust and decay, not data.

"It's not much," Demetri said, dispensing with any pretense of formality, "but I might have something. There are whispers that the Cullens spent time in New Orleans, though I can't determine exactly when or how long they stayed. I crossed paths with that nomad, Garrett—he claimed to have met them in Louisiana, but time means little to nomads."

I heard the faint rustling of papers as he continued, "The records I've recovered were found in an abandoned asylum just north of New Orleans. And, Caius… I believe I may have uncovered written accounts of what Edward has done to these women."

"How can you be sure this has anything to do with Edward?" I demanded. If I was going to bring charges against him, they needed to be indisputable—airtight, with no room for doubt.

"These patient records are difficult to make out," Demetri admitted, "worn with age and neglect. But from what I can decipher, the patient's name is Mary… no, wait—Elizabeth, I think. The surname is illegible. Her medical diagnosis lists catatonia and mania." He paused, as if re-reading something. "The admission notes say she reacted violently to any mention of 'gold,' 'feeding,' 'love,' piano music… and the name 'Edward.' Otherwise, she was entirely unresponsive. Just sat staring out the window."

Both diagnoses would explain such a reaction.

"I want all of the records," I command, my tone brooking no argument. "Obituaries, death certificates, letters—anything that can be used against him."

"Can do," Demetri replies, his voice grave. "I will tell you this much—based on what I can make out, these records describe how utterly catatonic and unresponsive at least this woman was after Cullen left." There's a scrape of furniture shifting in the background as he settles in, readying himself to read further. "They tried everything—electroshock therapy, hydrotherapy, even insulin shock treatment."

What humans did to one another in the name of science never ceased to astound me. Their so-called medicine often teetered on the edge of barbarism, not so different from the experiments I was certain the Romanians were conducting on both human and vampire subjects even now.

Demetri pauses before asking, "Wasn't Alice Cullen found in an asylum?"

"Not exactly found, but I believe she was institutionalized as a human in Biloxi, Mississippi, yes," I confirm. "If I recall correctly, that nomad… James, perhaps, was her sire." A few keystrokes pull up Aro's brief biography of Alice on my screen. "No, I was mistaken. It seems her sire was a doctor at the asylum—his name was never recorded. From what I can discern, she was turned to spite James."

"I want to see those records for myself," Demetri muses. "That asylum might have been a hotbed of vampiric activity—which is troubling enough—but I need to be certain Edward wasn't there. It feels too convenient that he would 'find' a sibling in someone committed to an institution when he himself seems to have been placing humans in them."

A thought stirs, dark and insidious. "Do we know if Alice was originally a victim?" I ask. "Or if more than one of Edward's victims ended up in asylums?" That could explain why Alice, in her newborn state, saw Carlisle and his coven when she stopped burning. Perhaps she was remembering something from her human life after all.

"There's nothing I can find that directly places the Cullens in Mississippi," Demetri says, irritation creeping into his tone. "But Alice was turned in the early 1920s, right?"

"No." I exhale slowly, the weight of realization settling over me. "That's a common misconception. She was actually changed in 1930."

"Then why does everyone think it was the '20s?"

"Not everyone," I reply, voice measured. "That's simply what Alice believes. But in reality, it was a full decade later."

Demetri falls silent, the implication sinking in. When he speaks again, his voice is edged with something unreadable. "So… the timeline could work?"

"It seems that it could," I admit, a rare flicker of astonishment slipping through. "Alice might very well be Edward's first official victim."

"If that's the case, doesn't it disprove the timeline Eleazar suggested?" Demetri asks, a note of curiosity in his voice.

"The Denalis and the Cullens spend time together, yes, but it's more like distant relatives gathering for the occasional holiday," I reply. "I wouldn't place too much faith in Eleazar's timeline. That said, I'd wager he was more attuned to young Cullen's actions than the members of Carlisle's own coven."

"That doesn't reflect well on Carlisle," Demetri muses. "But do you think Edward was acting independently—keeping his own coven in the dark?"

"Anything is possible," I say, my mind already weighing the implications. "I'd be willing to bet young Edward is far more capable than his so-called family gives him credit for."

"I'll leave for Biloxi tonight," Demetri responds without hesitation. "I'll gather everything I can on her."

"Her name was originally Mary Alice Brandon," I inform him. "See what that unearths."

"Done," Demetri replies, his tone leaving no room for dispute.

"Oh, and Demetri," I add, my voice measured. "Keep this between us for now. I want every fact laid out before Aro and Marcus get involved—after I've had the chance to review the documents myself."

"Give me until the end of next week," he says without hesitation. "I'll gather the proof you need and present everything I find."

Ending the call with Demetri felt like the first true step toward unraveling this sordid mystery. Yes, I was doing this for Isabella—she deserved justice for the suffering she endured as a human—but this was also about something far greater. The laws we had established were not mere suggestions; they were absolute, meant to be upheld without question. And yet, it seemed young Edward had spent decades twisting them to suit his own whims, his own insatiable desires—whether they stemmed from hunger or something far more insidious.

Now, I needed to determine exactly what those desires were—and why he had been so intent on exploiting them.