Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The morning sun slanted through the half-open blinds, scattering golden stripes across Bella’s bedroom floor. She blinked, not with the sluggish confusion of a five-year-old waking, but with the crisp awareness of someone who had lived a lifetime already. Memories of Rose Lane—her past self, her family, her soft cozy life filled with chaos and laughter—rushed back, fully intact.

A faint chime echoed in her mind, and then a translucent panel appeared, floating in the air before her eyes. Words glowed softly:

[Survival System Activated]

[Supported by multiple dimensions.]

Bella sat up, brushing tangled dark hair from her face. 'Of course. This makes sense.' She had expected something like this.

[Past life's memories have been restored.]

[World: Twilight (Timeline #2)]

The system pulsed and spoke in calm, neutral tones:

[Legacy Ability detected. Pre-selected at Truck-kun Catalyst: ‘I'd like to be able to edit a person’s occult, traits, and power level like when playing Sims 4 with cheats.’]

Bella’s eyes widened, and a shiver ran through her tiny body— sheer, deliberate excitement. This was exactly what she had always wanted: a way to control outcomes, quietly, carefully, humanely.

A small panel displayed her starting balance: 100,000 SC. Alongside it, the first tutorial missions appeared.

[Mission: “Test your Legacy Ability on inanimate objects or pets at home” 

Reward: 500 SC]

[Mission: “Observe minor household anomalies” Reward: 1,000 SC]

Bella wriggled out of bed and padded across the room to her toys. A stuffed rabbit sat upright on the rug, floppy ears flopping just enough to look imperfect. She focused, whispering the first small commands that floated in her mind, and adjusted its “playfulness” trait. It wobbled for a second, then sat perfectly upright, ears symmetrical. A soft chime in her mind confirmed: [Mission completed: +500 SC]

Next, she crouched beside a tiny potted fern on the windowsill. Its leaves were curling slightly from a lack of light. She concentrated and nudged its vitality and growth rate upward. The green deepened, leaves stretched luxuriously toward the light. 

Her cat, a sleepy gray tabby named Watson, blinked up at her as if curious. Bella grinned. 'Time for a real test.' She adjusted a playful trait just slightly, enough to encourage him to paw at a toy rather than the curtains. Watson purred contentedly. 

[Mission completed: +1000]

Floating text reminded her:

[Inventory Upgrade Available]

[Observation Journal Available]

A quick thought later, her SC deducted, and her inventory expanded (Sims 4;-5000SC). She reached out mentally, and a small, leather-bound journal appeared (Infinity Nikki; -1000SC) shimmering softly on her desk.

Bella sat at her desk, scribbling in her journal with deliberate strokes. She recorded the toy rabbit, the fern, Watson and the tiny changes she had made. Observing and logging—this was to be her new method of doing things. Already she felt herself sharpening, growing, learning.

A soft breeze drifted in through the window. For a moment, the shadows in her room stretched unnaturally, then snapped back. Bella noticed but didn’t startle but her eyes narrowed. 

The system pulsed faintly, acknowledging her first successful manipulations:

[Legacy Ability unlocked permanently (Sims 4)]

[Observant Trait acquired due to your keen observations (Disney Dreamlight Valley)]

She ran to her bed jumping on it before starfishing on it. Watson jumped up and curled against her side. 

Bella's reality had shifted but she was ready because she knew the world would need to change and with a small grin she thought 'I know just the girl to do it.'

The morning sun slanted through the half-open blinds, scattering golden stripes across Bella’s bedroom floor. She blinked, not with the sluggish confusion of a five-year-old waking, but with the crisp awareness of someone who had lived a lifetime already. Memories of Rose Lane—her past self, her family, her soft cozy life filled with chaos and laughter—rushed back, fully intact.

A faint chime echoed in her mind, and then a translucent panel appeared, floating in the air before her eyes. Words glowed softly:

[Survival System Activated]
[Supported by multiple dimensions.]

Bella sat up, brushing tangled dark hair from her face. 'Of course. This makes sense.' She had expected something like this.

[Past life's memories have been restored.]

[World: Twilight (Timeline #2)]

The system pulsed and spoke in calm, neutral tones:

[Legacy Ability detected. Pre-selected at Truck-kun Catalyst: ‘I'd like to be able to edit a person’s occult, traits, and power level like when playing Sims 4 with cheats.’]

Bella’s eyes widened, and a shiver ran through her tiny body— sheer, deliberate excitement. This was exactly what she had always wanted: a way to control outcomes, quietly, carefully, humanely.

A small panel displayed her starting balance: 100,000 SC. Alongside it, the first tutorial missions appeared.

[Mission #1: “Test your Legacy Ability on inanimate objects or pets at home” 
Reward: 500 SC]

[Mission #2: “Observe minor household anomalies”  Reward: 1,000 SC]

Bella wriggled out of bed and padded across the room to her toys. A stuffed rabbit sat upright on the rug, floppy ears flopping just enough to look imperfect. She focused, whispering the first small commands that floated in her mind, and adjusted its “playfulness” trait. It wobbled for a second, then sat perfectly upright, ears symmetrical. A soft chime in her mind confirmed: [Mission #1 completed: +500 SC]

Next, she crouched beside a tiny potted fern on the windowsill. Its leaves were curling slightly from a lack of light. She concentrated and nudged its vitality and growth rate upward. The green deepened, leaves stretched luxuriously toward the light. 

Her cat, a sleepy gray tabby named Watson, blinked up at her as if curious. Bella grinned. 'Time for a real test.'  She adjusted a playful trait just slightly, enough to encourage him to paw at a toy rather than the curtains. Watson purred contentedly. 

[Mission #2 completed: +1000]

Floating text reminded her:

[Inventory Upgrade Available]
[Observation Journal Available]

A quick thought later, her SC deducted, and her inventory expanded (Sims 4;-5000SC). She reached out mentally, and a small, leather-bound journal appeared (Infinity Nikki; -1000SC) shimmering softly on her desk.

Bella sat at her desk, scribbling in her journal with deliberate strokes. She recorded the toy rabbit, the fern, Watson and the tiny changes she had made. Observing and logging—this was to be her new method of doing things. Already she felt herself sharpening, growing, learning.

A soft breeze drifted in through the window. For a moment, the shadows in her room stretched unnaturally, then snapped back. Bella noticed but didn’t startle but her eyes narrowed. 

The system pulsed faintly, acknowledging her first successful manipulations:

[Legacy Ability unlocked permanently (Sims 4)]
[Observant Trait acquired due to your keen observations (Disney Dreamlight Valley)]

She ran to her bed jumping on it before starfishing on it. Watson jumped up and curled against her side. 

Bella's reality had shifted but she was ready because she knew the world would need to change and with a small grin she thought 'I know just the girl to do it.'

Chapter Text

The kitchen was loud in all the small ways Bella had learned to anticipate.

A cabinet door creaked open too far. The toaster leaned slightly to the left, with crumbs falling across the counter. Renee hummed as she searched for something she’d just set down, drifting from room to room in a pattern Bella could predict without thinking.

Bella stood on her stool and stirred her oatmeal carefully.

She could fix this.

The thought arrived fully formed—and just as quickly, she set it aside.

People were not problems to be solved.

The system pulsed softly at the edge of her vision.

[System Notification: Minor household instability detected.]

Bella exhaled, slow and steady, and focused on the room instead of the person in it.

[Mission #3: Stabilize a domestic environment using non-sentient targets.

Reward: 1,000 SC]

She adjusted the world, not her mother.

The toaster’s balance was nudged microscopically, its internal alignment corrected until it sat flat and steady. The cabinet hinge tightened itself with a soft, almost imperceptible click. The rug’s edge flattened so it wouldn’t catch a careless foot.

Bella moved carefully adjusting traits here and there deliberately, making sure every adjustment was reversible, gentle, and non-invasive.

[Mission #3 Completed: +1,000 SC]

Renee poured cereal without spilling. She smiled, distracted but content, and Bella felt a quiet satisfaction settle in her chest.

That was better.

---

Back in her room, Bella sat cross-legged on the floor. Watson watched her from the bed, tail flicking lazily. The stuffed rabbit still leaned a little to the side. The fern on the windowsill curled faintly toward the light.

These were safe.

These couldn’t be harmed by curiosity.

She opened her CAS interface and made small, precise adjustments:

* Stuffed rabbit > structural symmetry +1

* Fern > vitality +2, growth rate +1

* Dust motes in the sunlight > airflow pattern stabilized

Each change felt like sliding a dimmer switch rather than flipping a lever.

Watson blinked at her, then yawned. Bella smiled but didn’t touch his traits.

Animals couldn’t consent either.

Later, curiosity tugged at her again.

A new icon pulsed faintly in her Legacy Ability menu.

[Occult Library – View Only]

Bella hesitated for half a second, then opened it.

The interface unfolded like a book made of light.

Vampires. Werewolves. Shapeshifters.

She recognized those immediately—canon knowledge slotting neatly into place. Strength. Speed. Immortality. Pack bonds. Familiar. Expected.

Then her eyes caught on the others.

Unknown entries.

* Gloam-Fae

* Elementalists

* Nature-Based Mages

* Merpeople

Her breath caught.

Hovering over each revealed traits, sliders, and power structures she had never seen before. Shadow affinity (for Gloam-Fae). Environmental manipulation (Elementalists and Mages). Aquatic adaptation (Merpeople).

'So this world has more secrets than I remember.'

The system chimed gently.

[System Notice: Editing of sentient beings requires valid consent. Simulation Mode recommended.]

Bella relaxed.

“Good,” she whispered.

She wouldn’t do it without consent anyway.

She selected [Simulation Mode].

A holographic figure formed in front of her—clearly labeled Non-Physical Model.

First: Gloam-Fae (Simulation)

She adjusted:

* Stealth +1

* Mischief -1

The shadow around the figure tightened, movements becoming quieter, more deliberate.

Next: Elementalist (Simulation)

She nudged:

* Elemental focus +1

* Mana stability +2

The projected energy steadied, no longer flaring wildly and they began to glow brighter after mana was adjusted.

Bella leaned back, heart pounding.

She wasn’t meant to dominate this world.

She was meant to understand it.

A soft notification followed her experiments.

[Suggested Tools Available]

She bought the Field Observation Kit (Disney Dreamlight Valley; -2,500 SC)

[SC Balance: 94,000 SC]

---

That evening, Bella sat in her window nook, Watson curled against her leg.

She opened her Infinity Nikki Observation journal and wrote her first rule, carefully and in ink.

Rule One:

I do not change people who did not ask.

I change environments.

I simulate before I act.

Consent matters.

The shadows in the corner of the room stretched, then receded.

Bella noticed.

She always noticed.

She closed the journal with a quiet sense of certainty.

If the world needed to change, it would be because someone chose it.

And Bella Swan would be ready.

Chapter Text

Phoenix changed after sunset.

The heat lingered, trapped in concrete and dust, but the air softened just enough to make being outside bearable. Bella sat on the low stone wall bordering their backyard.

Watson prowled nearby, tail low, ears flicking at sounds Bella barely registered consciously—but felt.

This was different from the house.

Indoors, everything was contained. Predictable.

Outside, the world had layers.

The system stirred.

[Environmental Scan Available.]

Bella tilted her head and accepted.

The world sharpened— structurally. Heat gradients layered themselves in her awareness. Wind patterns became visible arcs. The living world pulsed with subtle metadata: growth, decay, movement, intent.

She didn’t edit anything.

She watched.

---

She followed the sidewalk until it gave way to packed dirt and scrub, the edge of suburbia blurring into open land. This wasn’t wilderness—not really—but it was close enough to breathe differently.

Bella crouched near a cluster of desert flowers struggling stubbornly through dry soil. She opened CAS—Read Only—and let the system parse.

* Soil quality: depleted

* Water retention: poor

* Root health: stressed but viable

She logged it in her journal instead of fixing it.

Observation first.

A flicker at the edge of her perception made her still.

Not movement.

Absence.

Bella slowly turned.

The air near a stand of mesquite trees… bent. Not visibly. Conceptually. Like light deciding not to land there.

Her heartbeat stayed steady—but her skin prickled.

The system responded before she even tried to ask it what she thought.

[Anomaly Detected.]

[Classification: Unknown.]

[Threat Level: Unconfirmed.]

Bella didn’t run.

She didn’t reach for CAS sliders.

She did the only thing that felt right.

She watched back.

The distortion shifted.

Not closer.

Aware.

Bella swallowed and toggled her Observation Kit to passive recording. The desert hum seemed to lower, as if something were listening through it.

Her canon knowledge raced uselessly.

No vampires here.

No shapeshifters this far south that she knew of. 

Jury was out on possible werewolf packs.

Nothing immediately known supernatural wise should be active in Phoenix.

Which meant—

“This isn’t from my timeline,” she whispered.

The system chimed softly.

[Occult Library Cross-Reference Suggested.]

Bella opened it, filtering by 'environmental interaction' and 'non-hostile manifestations'.

3 Entries surfaced.

* Gloam-Fae (Peripheral Territories)

* Nature-Based Mage Residue

* Elemental Echo (Non-Sentient)

Her gaze snapped back to the trees.

The distortion rippled—once—like acknowledgment.

Bella raised her hands slowly, palms open. A child’s gesture. Honest. Non-threatening.

“I’m not changing anything,” she said quietly. “I’m just looking.”

The pressure eased.

Not gone—but… respectful.

A moment later, the anomaly thinned, dissolving back into heat shimmer and shadow. 

And it felt like the desert exhaled.

Watson, who'd followed her on her exploration, let out a low, questioning chirr.

Bella sagged, suddenly aware of how small she was.

The system updated.

[Anomaly Logged: Non-hostile observational entity.]

[(Secret) Mission #4 Completed: Identify and document an unknown environmental irregularity.]

[Reward: 2,000 SC]

[SC Balance: 96,000]

Another line followed—slower. Heavier.

[Notice: World divergence confirmed.]

[Additional occult classifications active beyond primary canon.]

Bella sat on the sidewalk and hugged her knees to her chest.

So it was real.

Forks wouldn’t be the beginning.

It would just be where everything finally collided.

---

That night, Bella added a second rule beneath the first.

Rule Two:

If something watches back,

I listen before I act.

She closed the journal as moonlight slipped across her window, pale and watchful.

Somewhere beyond the city lights, something old had noticed her noticing it.

And for the first time since the system awakened, Bella felt it clearly—

She wasn’t alone in shaping the future.

She was simply early in her own story.

Chapter Text

Bella’s walks became a routine before anyone noticed they were one.

Every afternoon, once the heat softened from punishing to merely heavy, she slipped outside with her sneakers half-tied and her Observation Journal tucked under her arm. Renee assumed she was circling the block, the way kids did when they needed air and freedom and a little quiet.

But Bella was mapping the world.

The system hovered gently at the edge of her awareness as she moved, unobtrusive but attentive. She didn’t open her CAS menu. She didn’t edit. She just looked.

The sidewalk outside their house felt wrong—not dangerous, but unstable. The heat pooled there differently, the air shimmering just a fraction longer than it should. Two streets over, near a patch of stubborn vines, everything felt calm. Grounded. Balanced.

Bella stopped and marked it in her journal.

> Zone A: Stable. Plant growth consistent. No pressure distortion.

She continued.

---

By the end of the week, patterns emerged.

Anomalies didn’t appear randomly. They clustered around stressed environments—overwatered lawns, neglected lots, places where growth and decay were fighting each other. 

Weather played a role too. On days when the heat spiked suddenly, the distortions were sharper. On overcast mornings, they faded almost completely.

Bella crouched near a cracked planter, fingers hovering just above the soil.

She didn’t fix it.

She logged it.

The system chimed softly.

[Mission #5 Completed: Establish an environmental observation routine.]

[Reward: +1,500 SC]

Bella smiled faintly and kept walking.

---

At home, curiosity turned inward.

She sat on her bed with Watson curled at her feet and opened CAS interface—Read Only, exactly as intended. The interface scanned her gently, like a mirror that knew more than reflections.

* Physical resilience: slightly below average

* Environmental sensitivity: high

* Emotional regulation: stable

* Occult markers: none

Human. Completely.

Bella stared at the confirmation longer than she needed to.

“Good,” she murmured.

She adjusted nothing. There were no sliders to move, no traits to tweak. This wasn’t about improvement—it was about understanding her starting point.

She copied the data carefully into her journal, labeling the page "Baseline".

[Mission #6 Completed: Perform Read-Only CAS Scan on Self.]

[Reward: +1,000 SC].

---

That evening, as the sun dipped low and the heat finally broke, Bella flipped through her notes.

Zones. Weather correlations. Plant health indicators. Anomaly likelihood percentages scribbled in pencil and circled twice.

She paused, then added a new observation below her rules:

Patterns do not mean permission.

Observation comes before action.

A small icon blinked in her peripheral vision.

[Optional Enhancement Available.]

Bella considered it for a long moment before approving the purchase.

[Weather Lens Add-On (Disney Dreamlight Valley; -2,000 SC)]

[SC Balance: 96,500]

The world shifted subtly.

She could feel humidity changes before they touched her skin. Pressure fronts rolled through her awareness like distant tides. The heat no longer surprised her; it announced itself.

Bella closed her eyes and breathed.

This was what she needed.

Not power.

Context.

She sat up and kneeled before the window to the left over bed. She watched the streetlights flicker on, one by one, illuminating sidewalks she now knew by heart.

The world wasn’t chaotic.

It was patterned.

And if she learned those patterns well enough, maybe—just maybe—she could help without ever breaking her rules.

Bella picked up her journal and wrote one last line before bed.

"If I know where the world bends,

I don’t have to force it to move."

Outside, the night settled—quiet, watchful, and mapped.

Chapter Text

Renee forgot things more often now.

Not in a dramatic way—nothing that would make teachers or neighbors frown—but in the quiet, cumulative way that stacked itself into weight. 

Milk left out on the counter. Bills slipped beneath magazines. Keys set down and then searched for with mounting frustration.

Bella noticed all of it.

She always had.

Renee laughed it off, brushing moments away with a smile and a distracted kiss to Bella’s hair. “I swear, it was just here,” she’d say, already moving on to the next thought.

Bella didn’t correct her.

She adjusted the house instead.

---

The system flickered gently as Bella stood in the kitchen doorway, hands folded behind her back.

[Household variance increasing.]

[Recommendation: Environmental intervention.]

Bella nodded once.

She started small.

The counter gained a subtle friction adjustment—just enough to keep papers from sliding into forgotten piles. The key bowl by the door deepened imperceptibly, its “catch” trait nudged so items stayed put once dropped inside. Cabinet doors learned where to stop, no longer swinging wide or slamming shut.

Each change was precise. Reversible. Logged.

Bella tracked everything in her journal with neat, careful handwriting.

Edit: Entryway key bowl

Adjustment: Object retention +1

Result: 100% retrieval success (7 days)

She didn’t touch Renee.

Not her forgetfulness.

Not her flighty attention.

Not the way she moved through the world like it was always half a step ahead of her.

People were not systems.

Houses were.

[Mission #7: Maintain household stability for 30 days without sentient edits.]

[Reward: +2,000 SC]

By the end of the first week, the kitchen ran smoother.

By the second, Renee burned fewer meals. Lost fewer things. Smiled more often, even if she didn’t know why.

Bella watched quietly from her stool, stirring oatmeal, logging results mentally until she could log them in her journal later.

The system chimed.

[Mission Progress: Household stability maintained—14 days.]

Bella refined her approach.

She began testing reversibility thresholds. If she removed an edit, did the problem return immediately? Gradually? Not at all?

Some fixes held even after removal. Others needed gentle reinforcement.

She noted success rates, flagged failures, and adjusted her protocols accordingly.

Thirty days passed without a single sentient edit.

The system acknowledged it with a warm, steady pulse.

[Mission #7 Completed: Maintain household stability for 30 days without sentient edits.]

[Reward: +2,000 SC]

Another prompt followed, sharper with intent.

[(Secret) Mission #8 Completed: Design a reversible environmental system.]

[Reward: +1,500 SC]

Bella sat at her desk that night, journal open, Watson asleep at her feet.

She titled the next page carefully.

Household Stability Protocol v1.0

Underneath, she listed rules.

* All changes must be reversible

* No sentient trait alterations

* Environment compensates, not controls

* Success measured over time, not immediacy

She stared at the list, then added one more.

* If removal causes harm, the system is flawed

A notification blinked softly.

[New Purchase Available.]

Bella approved it without hesitation.

[Object Trait Presets (Sims 4; -4,000 SC)]

[SC Balance: 96,000]

The house felt different afterward— organized. Like it had learned how to help instead of hinder.

The system updated quietly.

[Passive Ability Acquired (through efficient changes to your environment): Environmental Stabilization Efficiency (Sims 4)]

Bella leaned back in her chair, exhaustion settling into her bones in a way no child her age should have known.

Renee passed by the doorway, paused, and smiled at her.

“Thanks for being such a good kid,” she said, already drifting toward her next thought.

Bella smiled back.

Later, curled beneath her blankets, Bella wrote one final line beneath her protocol.

If I can make the world easier to live in,

no one has to be fixed.

The house hummed softly around her—balanced, forgiving, and quietly holding together.