The air in Dracula's castle in Transylvania was heavy and cold. Outside, everything was covered in white snow, and there was complete silence—only the sound of the wind whistling through the tall castle columns filled the space. In the main hall, VladDracula sat behind his large desk; a hulking man with long black hair that reached his shoulders, tied neatly behind his head. His blue eyes glowed cold and merciless in the dim light. His all-black outfit, embroidered with red thread, gave him an aura of dominance and power that even the fiercest vampires feared.
The door opened anxiously, and Roma, Vlad's younger brother, stepped in; a man of average build with short black hair and red eyes full of worry. He was panting as he spoke:
— Vlad… Michael… he's gone. Vlad, he's gone…
Vlad didn't even lift his gaze from the papers he was flipping through. In the same cold, merciless tone, he said:
— He wanted to leave here a long time ago… sooner or later, he would have left you. Why are you so surprised?
Roma clenched his teeth:
— Vlad… do you know where he's going?
Vlad answered, harsh and short:
— No.
— Then go into his mind… see where he's headed. If the Volturi find out Michael has left Romania, they'll try to hunt him…
Without saying a word, Vlad placed the papers on the desk and finally looked at Roma. A cold smirk spread across his lips:
— Michael can handle those trash… you underestimated your son?
Roma didn't reply, but worry still lingered in his eyes.
Vlad slowly stood from his chair and walked to the window, looking out at the snow-covered grounds. He said:
— He's not a kid anymore… he's been a vampire for over a thousand years… he has the right to see the world.
— Where is he, Vlad? — Roma asked, voice trembling.
Vlad closed his eyes and entered Michael's mind. His eyes turned blood-red for a moment as he immersed himself in Michael's thoughts. Green, forested landscapes passed before him; Michael was sitting in a car, driving down a long road. A small sign appeared along the way:
"Forks."