Bella found herself watching the scene like an outsider as the roaring Caribbean spread beneath her feet. Warships covered the horizon, and a razor-sharp killing intent filled the air. She wasn't really there—but the suffocating tension felt almost physical.
The enemy was strong. They were outmatched. Fear and death pressed down on every soul present.
Just as panic threatened to swallow the crowd, a blurred figure hauled herself up the rail, grabbed a rope, and delivered a fierce, rousing speech.
"Pirates are watching us—waiting for the Black Pearl to lead. What will they see? A bunch of trembling rats? A ship with no fight left? No! They will see free men with free spirits!"
"With the sweat on our brows, the strength in our backs, and the courage in our hearts!"
"Gentlemen—hoist the colors!"
"Hoist the colors!"
The pirates' morale exploded. Shouts filled the air, steel slammed against wood, and every man looked ready to tear through the enemy with bare hands. The charisma of Elizabeth Swann—the Pirate King—was unmistakable.
The battle that followed dissolved into a blur, like a storm of mosaic pixels. Bella only felt a rush of motion before a glowing presence drifted to her side.
"Child, your heart is full of kindness, and your actions… noble. A little hardship won't break you. I've roamed the seven seas and mastered many paths to power, but most of them do not belong to you—and some are far too dangerous. I can also awaken the strength already inside you. That may be your truest anchor. Which do you choose?"
I want all of them!
But Bella instantly knew that wasn't an option.
She wasn't the smartest person alive, but she could hear the intent beneath the Pirate King's gentle voice. There was only one answer the ancestor hoped she'd choose.
"I believe in myself," Bella said. "I choose to awaken my own power."
The glowing figure reached out and tapped Bella's chest. Something inside her snapped wide open. She had felt caged before—like a goldfish trapped inside a decorative pond. Now she surged into a vast ocean, sky above, endless water below. A whole new world unfolded in a heartbeat.
"What—what is this?" Bella gasped, stunned by the transformation roaring inside her.
A soft, youthful laugh echoed from the light. "Shocked? Your ancestor is impressive, isn't she? Go on back, silly child. Think it over. Figure it out if you can. If you can't? Doesn't matter. This little gift is enough to keep you alive."
Bella was yanked out of the spirit sea. Pain flared through her palm, grounding her in her body. She hurried to bandage her still-bleeding hand, then splashed cold water on her face until her breathing steadied.
Only then did she begin to truly feel the change.
What she carried now didn't come from the Pirate King. It had always been hers.
It wasn't mutation.
It wasn't divine blessing.
It wasn't demonic contract.
This power belonged solely to Isabella Swan.
Maybe it was the years of bullying.
Maybe it was the isolation.
Maybe it was the way her predecessor's heart had long since locked itself away.
But Bella had unconsciously built a defense deep inside her psyche—a barrier that kept out intrusion. When the old Bella became a vampire, this latent talent manifested as her well-known shield. The problem was: that manifestation was crude. A shortcut. A dead end.
The vampire path awakened the talent… and then crippled it forever.
But now?
The Pirate King had opened the door without breaking anything.
Bella could finally grow.
She could build her own power source—faith, will, and conviction woven together. A spirit-born energy drawn from within. She called it psionic force. It wasn't the Warp-tainted stuff of Warhammer, no outside dimensions required. Her strength came from herself alone.
This energy carried no backlash—unlike the magic of Marvel sorcerers. Nothing stolen, nothing borrowed. But it had limits: anything she couldn't understand or accept simply wouldn't function.
Sorcerers could chant Latin they didn't understand and still sling spells, because the power wasn't theirs.
Bella didn't get that luxury.
Her mind was both engine and gatekeeper.
You don't get to chant "I am God" and ascend in a flash.
You're not qualified.
Her power knew that—and wouldn't budge.
It was similar to a DND psion, but not identical. Every mind was its own universe.
Bella's manifested inner world was a downward-pointing triangular lake.
A spirit lake.
The surface was small.
The water shallow.
That surface—its size—reflected knowledge, belief, worldview: effectively her MP bar.
The depth reflected the potency of her abilities: her level.
Her power wasn't like that of mutants.
Mutants awakened an X-gene and were stuck with whatever form it took, unless they were Omega-level.
Bella's power wasn't genetic.
It was inherited spirit, unlocked by bloodline—and completely free to grow.
The old Bella, as a vampire, had displayed her warped abilities: a defensive shield and emotional control. Both were nothing more than disfigured fragments of her true talent.
Now, both of those abilities rested within her spirit lake—clean, stable, fully hers. She only needed to reach in and call them forth.
And this time, she could go far beyond them.