The warehouse lay silent, a hollow shell of rust and shadow.
A single bulb swung overhead, casting jagged patterns across the concrete floor.
The vampire was gone - no blood, no chains, no evidence anyone had been there at all.
Lucien sat alone in the metal folding chair, positioned in the center of the empty space.
His eyes fixed on his palm, studying the jaguar mark that bled steadily, crimson droplets falling to form a small puddle between his feet.
The silence pressed against his ears, a physical weight in the abandoned building.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
He watched the blood pool, mesmerized by its rhythm. Each drop fell with perfect precision, joining the growing stain below. But then - something changed.
The blood moved.
Not with gravity's pull, but against it. Droplets rose from the puddle, suspended in the air like crimson stars. They hovered before him, trembling slightly before flowing together into a dark, viscous stream.
The warehouse lights flickered, plunging the space into darkness before sputtering back to life.
In that brief moment of illumination, the blood had transformed - a shadowy jaguar now stood before him, its form shifting between solid and vapor.
"Look at you," it purred, circling his chair with fluid, predatory grace. Its voice scraped like metal on stone, "The marked one, he who stood against the gods themselves and nearly gifted them death, reduced to hiding in abandoned buildings, making deals with vampires."
Lucien remained motionless, still staring at his palm as if the apparition didn't warrant his attention. The temperature plummeted, his breath suddenly visible in the frigid air.
The jaguar continued its circuit, paws making no sound on the concrete. "It's all hopeless, you know," it whispered, voice dropping hypnotically. "No matter what clever plans you devise, no matter what strange powers you channel, no matter what allies you gather - there is one single truth that will never change."
Lucien finally acknowledged the entity, his voice calm despite the horror before him. "And what might that be?" he asked casually, still not looking up from his bleeding palm.
The jaguar stopped behind his chair.
The shadow shifted, elongating and transforming. Where the beast had stood moments before, a young woman now materialized - tall, pale, with long dark hair cascading down her naked form.
Her beauty was otherworldly but terrible, eyes black as obsidian, skin adorned with subtle jaguar-spot patterns that appeared and disappeared as she moved.
She slid behind Lucien's chair with unnatural grace. Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails extending into claws that pierced his shirt and dug into his flesh. Blood welled around her fingertips as she leaned close, her lips brushing against his ear.
"We own you," she whispered, her breath impossibly cold against his skin. She opened her mouth, revealing teeth that elongated into fangs as she moved to bite his ear.
Lucien reacted with explosive speed, twisting in his chair and grabbing her by the throat. In one fluid motion, he hurled her to the ground and followed her down, pinning her with his body weight, his hands tightening around her neck with enough force to crush a normal human's windpipe.
The woman beneath him merely chuckled, completely unaffected by his attempt to choke her. Her hair spread across the concrete floor like spilled ink, her black eyes staring up at him with amusement.
"Did you think you fooled me?" she asked, voice unimpeded despite his grip on her throat. "Perhaps those mindless beasts outside, perhaps even my father, the great Tezcatlipoca... but not me." Her smile widened unnaturally. "I'm part of you now."
"You're a parasite," Lucien interrupted, his voice a controlled hiss of rage.
She ignored his comment, continuing as if he hadn't spoken. "Unlike the monsters or even my father, I know what you truly did out there." Her eyes gleamed with knowing. "That spectacle where you slaughtered hundreds-"
Despite Lucien's strength pinning her down, she raised her head until her lips nearly touched his ear again. "Ten minutes," she whispered, before her tongue darted out to lick his cheek in a slow, deliberate motion.
Lucien reacted with disgust and fury, slamming her head back against the concrete with enough force to crack the floor beneath her. She merely grunted, the sound transforming into a moan that was disturbingly pleasurable rather than pained.
"Ten minutes," she repeated, chuckling. "That's how long it took you to prepare. Always the paranoid one, weren't you? Setting your trap - that amplifying domain - the moment you arrived, knowing the monsters would come soon enough."
Her eyes narrowed with cruel insight. "But will you always have those ten minutes? Do you think they'll give you that luxury every time? Do you think they'll ever stop coming?"
"It doesn't matter if they send a hundred or a thousand," Lucien hissed, his face inches from hers. "I'll kill each and every one of them, down to the last of their slaves."
At his words, her form dissolved into shadow beneath him.
The warehouse around them shifted and melted away, reality transforming into a nightmarish new landscape. Lucien found himself standing atop a mountain of corpses - monsters of every variety piled beneath his feet, stretching as far as the eye could see.
At the base of this macabre mountain lay an ocean of blood, crimson waves lapping against shores of broken bones.
In the center of this bloody sea, the woman bathed, using the viscous liquid as water to "cleanse" herself.
Her movements were deliberately sensual and provocative as she noticed Lucien watching from atop the corpse mountain. She smiled, beckoning him with a crooked finger.
"Join me, Struggler," she called, her voice carrying easily across the distance. "The blood feels wonderful, and I'd like a partner."
Lucien bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood, grounding himself in the pain as he descended the mountain.
Each step sent bodies shifting beneath him until he reached the blood ocean with a splash. The liquid rose to his knees, thick and warm, bringing back terrible memories of the mirror world where Elena died in his arms.
He waded toward the woman, expression hardening with each step. She continued her macabre bathing ritual, unconcerned by his approach, running blood-soaked hands over her body with deliberate slowness.
"You are a sacrifice," she said, her voice deceptively gentle. "Everything about you is a sacrifice. Every breath you take, every thought you think, every action you perform - all of it feeds the Godhand."
She reached for him as he drew near, taking his hand with surprising gentleness and pulling him closer. Her arms wrapped around him in a mockery of an embrace, her lips finding his ear once more.
"Your continued existence makes them stronger with each passing moment," she whispered. "Makes me stronger. And I, in turn, make your hunters stronger - those monsters that will never let you know peace."
Her fingers traced patterns on his back, nails occasionally scratching deep enough to draw blood. "You have no hope. You are a curse upon this world. Wherever you go, death follows. The evils of the night grow wickeder and stronger in your wake."
Her lips brushed against his neck, placing gentle kisses interspersed with small bites that drew pinpricks of blood. "You are death itself, the bane of life and peace. The antithesis of good. The Son of Evil."
"Give in," she murmured against his skin. "Surrender to what you are, Struggler. Struggle and struggle until the day you die, and make the greatest sacrifice of all - your death."
Something inside Lucien snapped. With a roar of primal fury, he shoved her down into the blood ocean, following her down and pinning her beneath the surface. He straddled her, hands around her throat once more as the blood lapped around them.
"I don't care how many they send," he snarled, his face contorted with rage and determination. "I will slaughter every last one until I drag your gods down from their thrones. I'll tear their divine flesh from bone and make them bleed upon the earth like common beasts. I'll feed their entrails to the dogs while they watch, still living, as everything they built crumbles to dust!"
His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "And you? You'll be there to witness it all before I finally end you too, Witch."
With that, Lucien lunged forward, teeth bared, and tore into her throat. Blood - darker and thicker than the ocean around them - spurted from the wound.
Lucien jolted awake with a violent gasp, nearly falling from the metal folding chair in the warehouse.
His heart hammered against his ribs, sweat soaking his shirt despite the cool air. He immediately raised his palm, finding the jaguar mark bleeding more heavily than before, droplets pattering onto the concrete floor.
"Lucien?" Katherine's voice came from behind him, concern evident in her tone. "Are you okay?"
He turned to find her standing a few feet away, watching him with wary eyes. Her condition had deteriorated further - the black veins from the werewolf venom now reaching her jawline, her normally perfect complexion ashen with pain she refused to acknowledge.
"Yeah," he managed, his voice rougher than intended. "I'm fine."
"Nightmare?" she asked, moving closer.
Lucien shook his head dismissively. "Don't worry. It's the usual."
Katherine bit the inside of her cheek, frustration and helplessness warring in her expression.
This was exactly what Tezcatlipoca promised - Lucien would know no peace, haunted even in his dreams.
For all her power, all her centuries of experience, she could do nothing to shield him from this curse.
"How long was I out?" he asked, changing the subject.
"About an hour," Katherine replied, leaning against a nearby support beam. She tried to appear casual, but Lucien noticed how she used the structure for support.
The werewolf venom was weakening her rapidly, his blood proving more and more ineffective as time passed. "Any word from our... guest?"
"Not yet," Lucien said, rising from his chair and stretching. His muscles ached from the tension of his nightmare. "But he'll come."
"Are you sure about this?" Katherine asked, not for the first time. "Klaus isn't known for his forgiving nature or his willingness to negotiate. Especially with-"
"Children?" Lucien finished with a wry smile.
Katherine's expression remained serious. "With anyone. He doesn't see people, Lucien. He sees tools or obstacles. He'll find loopholes. He always does."
"Then I'll just have to be a tool he wants to use rather than an obstacle he needs to remove," Lucien replied, his tone making it clear the discussion was over.
Before Katherine could respond, the warehouse was suddenly illuminated by a brilliant flash of lightning, followed immediately by a deafening crack of thunder.
Rain began to pound against the metal roof with sudden intensity, as if a dam had broken in the sky.
Katherine's body went rigid, her head turning toward the entrance. "He's coming," she whispered, swallowing hard.
Lucien didn't move, simply leaning back in his chair and lifting his gaze to the ceiling. The warehouse door slammed open, the metal hinges screaming in protest as the door itself crashed against the interior wall.
Silhouetted in the doorway stood a man. Behind him, several figures waited - men and women of various ages and appearances.
But it was the man at the forefront who commanded attention.
Klaus Mikaelson stepped into the warehouse, rain dripping from his hair and jacket.
His movements were casual, almost lazy, but his eyes missed nothing as they scanned the space, taking in Katherine's presence with raised eyebrows before settling on Lucien.
A small, amused smile played at the corners of his mouth as he approached.
"About time you showed up," Lucien said, his voice carrying a blend of confidence and weariness that would be remarkable in someone five times his age.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.
Do tell me how you found it.
So, finally, Klaus is here.
And... Yeah. Lucien's power display was while using that domain ability he did in the mirror world while Vader was buying time.
He isn't as strong with it as in the mirror realm, cause there the Dark Side was more naturally potent, but he makes do. As seen with what he did. Though don't think he's weak.
The only time in that fight it was relevant was when he stepped onto that balcony - before that, anything he did, he can do without the domain.
Well, if you have any questions on how or why the domain works, do ask.
I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)