It didn't take Lucas long to understand where he was — not just the setting, but the reality.
The New Orleans before him was the same one he had watched for years. Here, vampires walked in the shadows, witches conspired in whispers, werewolves roamed in packs, and the Mikaelsons dictated the laws of life and death.
But Lucas was no longer just an observer. He was part of it now. And he knew: in this world, survival required power.
For days, he wandered the streets in silence, watching, listening, reflecting.
The city was a constant battlefield, where alliances were fragile and mercy was rare.
And even with his faith intact, Lucas came to a simple, harsh truth: faith without wisdom was suicide here.
That's when he chose to do the unthinkable.
He delved into the ancient records of ancestral magic, combing through forgotten grimoires, time-stained scrolls, and blood-marked parchments.
He wanted to understand how Esther Mikaelson had turned her family into vampires — and more than that, how he could remake that spell… and improve it.
He didn't want to rely on rings forged by witches with questionable motives.
He didn't want to ask permission to walk through a door.
He wanted freedom.
For endless nights, Lucas studied. He fasted. He prayed.
He didn't mix faith with witchcraft, but he understood that knowledge — even dark knowledge — was a tool.
And that the heart's intention determined the way the sword was used.
Using fragments of Esther's original spell, he began crafting a new version.
He replaced blood offerings with symbols of identity, modified the runes that limited sunlight, and added elements of Norse, African, and ancient Hebrew magic.
He created a new seal. A new cycle. A new birth.
And at the center of the new magic, he wrote only one phrase:
"Freedom not as rebellion, but as purpose."
When the spell was cast, Lucas felt his body change. Pain. Fire. Ice.
Eternity surged through his veins like blades.
But at dawn, the sun touched him — and did not burn.
And that night, he crossed the threshold of a locked house — uninvited.
The magic had worked.
He was now something new.
Not quite a vampire.
Not quite a man.
Something in between.
And as he lifted his eyes to the sky of this new world, Lucas understood:
He had not been condemned.
He had been sent.