Edward watched.
The image on the screen was nearly identical to the first time he had stood in the throne room. Aro, Caius, and Marcus looked unchanged—statuesque, seated high in their places of power—appearing just as they had in 1929. Cold. Immaculate. Eternal.
Then he heard the doors open, and Aro's head turned slowly toward the sound.
But before the scene could fully unfold, the camera view jumped—cutting sharply to a tight shot of Aro's face. Edward blinked. How many cameras had there been? How far had Aro's obsession with control gone, to demand this level of surveillance?
The camera shifted again, and this time, Edward froze.
Bella appeared, flanked by Demetri and Felix, walking steadily toward the dais. He'd known this moment was coming—she'd told him the story many times—but seeing it now, rendered in crisp, undeniable detail, was something else entirely. She looked impossibly composed, her face calm, unreadable.
He smiled. He was sure Bella didn't look like every other vampire who'd been dragged into that throne room—for the very real reason that she wasn't the prey. She was the predator.
Seeing Demetri again, alive and well, pulled a darker reaction from him. That face. That smug posture. All of Edward's old fury stirred to life—but it was cooler now, tempered by time… and by the knowledge of what was to come. He didn't need to lift a finger. Justice had already arrived on its own, but now, at last, he would be able to see it with his own eyes.
And Bella…
She'd told him everything, but words hadn't prepared him for this.
Not for the sight of her stepping into the lion's den like she owned the place.
Not for the look of greed in Aro's eyes when he saw her.
Not for the quiet swell of pride in his chest for the incredible woman sitting beside him, her hand clasped in his.
He sat perfectly still, eyes locked on the screen, unwilling to miss a single second.
For the Volturi's reckoning had begun.
Chapter 99: The Gathering Part Five
"Ah, Demetri, you've returned and brought with you the illustrious Starshield…"
Just hearing Aro's smug voice again ignited something cold and furious in Edward's chest. That same oily tone he remembered from nearly a century ago—condescending, gleeful, insufferably confident. But the feel of Bella's hand wrapped in his grounded him, anchoring the flare of old anger before it could rise too far.
He was amazed by how many cameras had actually been hidden in the throne room. Multiple angles captured not only Bella's face in striking detail, but also the reactions of the Volturi guard, their expressions shifting between curiosity, caution, and veiled disdain as the confrontation unfolded.
Then Caius struck her.
The moment his hand connected with Bella's face, Edward's entire body tensed. A flash of rage surged through him so quickly, so violently, he nearly stood—only the knowledge that Caius had long since turned to ash allowed him to remain seated.
But Bella hadn't reacted. Not with fear. Not even with fury. She held steady, her expression cool and composed—and somehow, that restraint only made Edward admire her more. She had offered them diplomacy, a peaceful solution, even knowing who she stood before. And though he knew her power—knew what she was capable of—he saw now just how deeply she'd hoped for a resolution that didn't end in violence.
But peace was never part of Aro's design. And watching Bella on the screen now, he could see it in the tightening of her stance, the gathering steel behind her words.
Her patience was slowly running out.
And her resolve was taking hold.
As the verbal back-and-forth reached its tipping point, Edward couldn't help but see the parallels—the chilling symmetry—between this moment and the day he had stood in that very room, powerless before the same throne. It was like history repeating itself… only this time, the ending would be different.
Then, Aro finally gave Bella the floor.
She didn't hesitate.
"No, I will not serve you. Since I became a vampire, I've heard nothing but vile things about the Volturi. You rule by fear and intimidation alone. No one respects you, Aro. Certainly not me. Why would I ever willingly serve an asshole like you?"
The words struck like a lightning bolt.
Behind him, the ballroom erupted—cheers rang out, sharp and unapologetic, echoing off marble and stone. Edward didn't join in. He didn't need to.
He just sat back, his fingers still laced with Bella's, and smiled.
She hadn't just refused Aro.
She'd said the words every vampire thought but never dared to speak aloud.
Finally, the moment Edward knew would ignite the battle arrived. On the screen, Aro beckoned Sarah forward, his eyes glittering darkly with anticipation as he instructed her to strip Bella of her powers—just as she'd once done to him. Edward felt his muscles tighten instinctively, bracing for the confrontation, even though he knew how it would end.
But nothing prepared him for what happened next. Sarah barely opened her mouth to speak when she suddenly, violently exploded. It was as if she'd been struck by a locomotive—her entire form rupturing in an instant, flesh, bone, and venom pulverized into a gruesome spray of thick, gelatinous goo. Her remains burst outward in a savage wave, splattering across the dais in a horrific torrent, soaking the steps, the thrones, and drenching the stunned Volturi kings in gore.
A collective gasp swept through the entire ballroom as the camera abruptly shifted, cutting to Aro's face. The mighty leader stood utterly motionless, his expression frozen in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth slack with shock. Thick ropes of Sarah's remains dripped grotesquely down his forehead, slid slowly across his cheeks, and pooled at the corner of his mouth. It was a scene so surreal and horrifying that Edward could hardly process it.
He'd never seen Bella wield her power with such raw brutality. She'd told him—but in his mind, it hadn't been like that. He hadn't imagined it could be like that. That Bella, now sitting quietly beside him, could obliterate her enemy so completely—reducing them to nothing more than pulp and venom. It was chilling. It was awe-inspiring. And in that moment, Edward fully understood the terrifying extent of Bella's strength.
The instant Caius's voice shattered the shocked silence—"Jane!"—the scene took on a surreal, comedic life of its own. Music filled the ballroom, jaunty and absurdly cheerful, its playful notes bouncing along in sharp contrast to the grim spectacle unfolding on-screen. Edward had never heard the tune before, but it was undeniably catchy—ridiculous yet oddly fitting, amplifying the absurdity of the Volturi's once-feared warriors suddenly cast into slapstick chaos.
The camera zeroed in tight on Demetri's face, capturing his wide-eyed look of disbelief as Bella's shield effortlessly hurled him and Felix in opposite directions across the throne room. Their limbs flailed comically as the movie seemed to slow down for the audience's viewing pleasure—every exaggerated expression, every ripple of panic across their faces perfectly highlighted by the relentlessly upbeat rhythm of the music.
The entire ballroom erupted into laughter, peals of genuine amusement echoing off the walls, vampires doubling over, unable to contain themselves. Even Edward felt a startled laugh escape, the sheer absurdity breaking through his earlier tension. Who could have ever imagined the formidable Volturi guard—once the stuff of vampire nightmares—reduced to hapless jesters flung unceremoniously across the throne room like discarded toys?
Edward squeezed Bella's hand gently, glancing at her as she shook her head, smiling faintly at the ridiculous spectacle. If the Volturi's goal had been to create a record of their terrifying dominance, they'd failed spectacularly.
Instead, they'd unknowingly produced a comedy masterpiece, scored perfectly by the infectious, upbeat melody now bouncing merrily through the ballroom.
The camera snapped to a close-up of Jane and Alec—the infamous twins, the Volturi's deadliest weapons. Jane's delicate features twisted into a hateful sneer, but before her expression fully formed, her eyes widened in shock as her head toppled backward, neatly severed from her body. Her headless form crumpled instantly, leaving Alec frozen, awkwardly clutching his sister's startled face.
A stunned silence hung in the air as Alec slowly looked down, confusion flooding his features. Jane's severed head stared back, her final expression still twisted in outraged disbelief. Alec's mouth opened, eyes rising incredulously to Bella, then dipping back down to Jane's lifeless gaze, clearly unable to process the horror—and absurdity—of the moment.
But before Alec could move, flames exploded around him, a roaring inferno that engulfed both twins completely. Fire surged, turning them swiftly to ash as shocked laughter rippled through the ballroom at the humiliating, almost comical end to the Volturi's most feared killers.
The entire ballroom continued to cheer, laughter rising as the action resumed—every vampire riveted by the spectacle on the massive screen. Edward leaned forward, his gaze locked on the scene unfolding before him. He knew the actual fights had probably lasted only a few seconds each, but the footage had been slowed for dramatic effect, each movement stretched to let the audience savor every detail. And there Bella was—surging forward to meet Felix's charging bulk, calm and lethal, her composure making his brute strength look almost pitiful by comparison.
In an instant, Bella's shield sliced through his knees with merciless precision, and the mighty Volturi warrior toppled, limbs severed, confusion etched comically across his face as he crashed toward the stone floor. The audience roared with delight, the relentless beat of the playful music amplifying the absurdity of Felix's downfall, turning the gruesome violence into something oddly amusing.
Bella's effortless brutality continued as she swung around Felix's falling body, neatly severing his head in one swift, vicious twist. The camera captured it all in spectacular slow motion—Felix's wide eyes frozen in astonishment, the spark of life draining away, his massive torso crumpling gracelessly. The vampires around Edward laughed harder, some clapping with sheer entertainment as the scene unfolded, perfectly synchronized with the comedic rhythm of the soundtrack.
The scene shifted smoothly, showcasing Bella rising gracefully into the air, her power fully unleashed. The throne room became a canvas for her devastating artistry as her shield swept through a dozen charging guards in one clean, sweeping arc. Edward watched, awe-struck, as guards were bisected effortlessly—their bodies tumbling one way, legs another—an almost choreographed dance of destruction punctuated by splashes of venom. It was violent yet mesmerizing, the absurdly cheerful music accentuating the surrealism of it all.
Aro's desperate cries of "Kill her! Kill her!" rang out helplessly, only enhancing the humor as the camera caught his frantic, wide-eyed expression of panic. The entire ballroom laughed louder, thoroughly enjoying the powerful vampire leader's mounting hysteria.
And then came the moment Edward had truly been waiting for—Bella's fiery challenge to Demetri. The screen captured Bella's face, her lips curled in a mocking smile as she held Felix's severed head aloft. Her mouth moved, taunting Demetri with words the audience couldn't hear clearly over the music, but Edward knew them by heart: "My lighter's bigger." With that, Bella ignited Felix's head, hurling it toward Demetri like a flaming projectile. Demetri's dismissive swat of the blazing head was slowed comically, his disdainful sneer exaggerated to perfection, drawing fresh waves of laughter from the ballroom.
As the two combatants squared off, the scene transitioned into slow motion once again. Tension coiled in Edward's chest, even knowing the outcome, as he watched Bella dance effortlessly around Demetri's lunges—each move a calculated study in humiliation. She ducked, weaved, and sidestepped with fluid grace, turning Demetri's rage-fueled aggression into slapstick comedy. The music's energetic, whimsical tempo made each miss seem even more absurd, every missed strike amplified into a humiliating failure.
Edward smiled, pride and joy swelling in his chest as he watched Bella dismantle Demetri, not just physically, but psychologically—exposing the arrogant bastard as nothing more than a helpless fool before her power and skill. Around him, the vampires clapped, cheered, and laughed openly, thoroughly engrossed by the spectacle of the Volturi's most feared enforcer being reduced to a bumbling punchline.
Edward settled back, unable to suppress his wide smile, savoring every second as Bella continued her merciless dance, the catchy tune providing the perfect soundtrack to Demetri's long-overdue demise.
Edward leaned toward Bella, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. "What is that music?"
She didn't take her eyes off the screen, brows knitted slightly in concentration. "I've heard it before, but I don't know what it is."
Jean Paul, sitting beside Renée, chuckled softly. "It's the theme song from Benny Hill. Quite appropriate, I must say."
Edward's attention snapped back to the action just as Bella's hands locked onto Demetri's head. He felt a surge of satisfaction as she twisted with brutal finality, the sharp metallic crack echoing vividly through the speakers. Edward released a quiet, relieved sigh—justice, at long last, had been served.
But the battle was far from over.
On the screen, Bella turned her focus to the remaining guards. Even slowed down, every motion appeared fluid, precise—like a beautifully choreographed dance. Edward watched, mesmerized, as she moved effortlessly, her form a seamless blur of lethal grace and power. It was almost surreal, witnessing her dismantle such overwhelming numbers with ease, each strike decisive, merciless.
One by one, the guards fell beneath Bella's relentless assault, their limbs severed, heads spinning grotesquely away. The ballroom echoed with laughter and cheers, drawn out by the absurdity of the scene unfolding on the screen—one of the most feared fighting forces reduced to little more than hapless props in Bella's ruthless performance.
Finally, as the last guard's severed head rolled to a stop, the buoyant music faded, plunging the ballroom into sudden, heavy silence. Edward drew a slow breath, anticipation curling sharply in his chest. It was now just Bella and the Volturi kings. Everyone in the room was transfixed, holding their breath, on the edge of their seats, desperate to witness what came next.
Kate sat motionless beside Garrett in the front row, barely daring to breathe as she watched the battle unfold. Her hand gripped his tightly. Her knuckles were bone-white with tension. Centuries of hatred surged beneath her skin, ignited by a fury she had long carried with no outlet, with no hope of release… until now.
Her gaze narrowed on Caius, and it felt like her own body burned with a deep, seething hatred. And it should. There he stood—the vampire who had torn her family apart, the one who had ruthlessly slaughtered her mother. Caius: so arrogant, so unrepentant, so... vulnerable. She smiled, seeing him stand there, finally facing the justice she had long prayed for. And she would savor every second of it.
Bella's taunting challenge echoed through the room, and Kate leaned forward in anticipation, a surge of vindictive delight rising within her as Caius threw back his cloak and charged, a cry of rage tearing from his throat. The footage slowed dramatically—each second stretched for effect, allowing every brutal detail to carve itself into her memory.
Flames erupted from deep within Caius, first as searing pinpoints of brilliant orange and white, burning their way through his veins. His clothes began to blacken and smolder, singeing at the edges as faint tongues of flame licked outward from beneath his skin. His expression contorted with the agony of each blistering step, yet he didn't stop—not even as the fire clawed hungrily through muscle and bone, devouring him from the inside out.
Kate's breath hitched as she watched Caius stumble forward, defiance etched into every line of his smoldering face. He refused to surrender, driven by raw fury and hatred, his crimson eyes still locked onto Bella even as deep cracks began to splinter across his skin, glowing with searing light from within. His flesh fractured like stone under pressure, and the fire burst through his chest, roaring upward from the gaping fissures spreading across his torso. Yet still, impossibly, he advanced—every step slower, every inch more excruciating than the last.
Finally, mere feet from Bella, Caius fell. His charred knees buckled, sending him crashing forward onto the marble floor in an eruption of flame and smoke. The once-feared monster had been reduced to a blackened husk, purple smoke already curling upward to the rafters. It was almost elegant—as if the universe itself were erasing the stain of his cruelty from existence.
Kate released a trembling breath, the image of Caius's demise etched vividly into her memory. At long last, justice had been served—and it had been more brutal, more satisfying, and more beautifully painful than she had ever dared to imagine.
Edward watched Caius burn to ash, purple smoke rising from the charred remains as triumphant cheers erupted throughout the ballroom. No vampire present had harbored an ounce of sympathy for Caius Volturi, but as the camera switched over to Aro's ornate throne, a sudden hush fell over the audience. The atmosphere grew tense, charged with anticipation and a collective hunger, every vampire in attendance holding their breath as Aro's final reckoning approached.
How many centuries had these vampires suffered under Aro's merciless rule? How many lives had he destroyed, how many nightmares had he inflicted upon them all? Edward could practically taste their thirst for vengeance in the silence.
On the screen, Bella's shield sliced through the golden throne, splitting it neatly in half and sending both halves crashing into opposite corners of the throne room. Edward watched as Aro, who had been crouched behind it in fear, slowly straightened—his movements uncertain, almost reluctant. But there was nowhere left to hide. He stood fully exposed now, small and trembling amidst the wreckage of his rule. His eyes darted frantically, scanning for an escape that didn't exist, the regal confidence he'd worn for millennia shattered beyond repair.
A voice rang out from somewhere behind Edward—sharp and scornful.
"Coward!"
Edward felt a fierce, grim satisfaction as Bella slowly lifted from the ground, rising above the dais, the picture of divine judgment. Effortlessly, she pulled Aro upward with her, forcing him to kneel in midair before her—the once-feared immortal now reduced to begging for his pathetic life.
"Please, spare me!" Aro's voice cracked, high-pitched with terror. Edward's jaw clenched, disgusted by the groveling creature who had once held absolute power over their entire world. "You can go free. Everything will be forgiven!"
From somewhere behind Edward, another voice shouted, raw and defiant, "Fuck you, Aro!" The cry echoed the sentiment of every vampire in the room.
But the camera focused solely on Bella's face, starkly illuminated by the intensity of her power. Her expression held no trace of the softness Edward knew so intimately—only the fierce composure of a warrior delivering justice. Her laughter sliced through the air, chilling, devoid of any warmth or mercy.
"I think not." Her voice was hard, implacable. "You're the most evil man I've ever met, Aro Volturi. And there will be no forgiveness—for you've never once shown mercy yourself. I warned you. I gave you chance after chance for this to end another way, but you wouldn't listen. Now, see what your arrogance and high-handed threats have brought upon you and your now-extinct coven."
Edward's body tensed, every muscle taut as he watched Aro's eyes widen in primal terror. He tried to cry out one final plea, "Wait—" but it was far too late.
Bella ignited a savage fire deep within him, flames surging through his body with brutal efficiency. The screen captured every horrifying detail, every agonized contortion of Aro's face as his skin cracked and blackened, venom boiling away from his bones. His screams were drowned by the cheers erupting in the ballroom, a thunderous roar of joyous satisfaction at the sight of Aro's absolute destruction.
Piece by piece, the vampire who had once ruled the supernatural world with an iron fist disintegrated into nothingness, reduced to drifting, insignificant ash. The cheers grew louder, chants of Bella's name mixing with the applause, until the entire ballroom vibrated with victory and liberation.
Edward felt his chest swell with pride and awe for the extraordinary woman seated beside him, her fingers still laced with his. Her eyes remained fixed on the screen, watching herself descend softly onto the marble floor of the Volturi throne room, then set the mangled remains of the guard ablaze. Flames rippled across the stone, consuming the last traces of the coven's reign—until only ash and smoke remained.
The final image was a close-up of Bella's face as she stood among the carnage, her ruby eyes glinting with layered emotion—too complex to name, impossible to define—before the screen slowly faded to black.
The audience rose to their feet as one, a deafening applause shaking the room, a catharsis centuries in the making.
The lights gradually brightened, washing away the lingering darkness as Garrett returned to his position on stage, clapping enthusiastically along with the rest of the ballroom. He stepped up to the microphone, and his voice rang out—crisp and clear—rising effortlessly over the roaring applause. "I must say, I hadn't seen that on the big screen before—and it was even more impressive here tonight. Honestly, I don't think there's anything that could possibly top what we just witnessed. I think we've all learned a valuable lesson—"
From somewhere on the far side of the hall, a voice called out loudly, "Yeah, don't fuck with Bella. We get it!" Laughter erupted spontaneously around the room, echoing off the marble walls and high ceilings, amplifying the jovial mood.
Garrett chuckled warmly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Exactly. Don't fuck with Bella—that's precisely what I meant to say." His gaze shifted to Bella, offering her a playful wink and an approving smile.
Edward glanced sideways at Bella, noting the quietly amused expression on her face, one he had come to adore. Her eyes sparkled with understated humor, her lips curving upward just enough to convey satisfaction without boastfulness.
He leaned close, whispering softly, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "We're definitely going to need a copy of that."
Bella's subtle smile widened, her eyes gleaming with delight. "Damn straight we are."
I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Looks like there are going to be two chapters left in the Gathering—after all, they still have to choose their new leaders...
But before that, Bella and Edward will run into some Twilight favorites.
Comments are always welcome and appreciated!
