---
The next day, Klaus watched from the balcony as the witch left the mansion.
A cryptic smile curved his lips.
(— Mercenaries… Useful and captivating… Yet untamable, and terrifying.)
He sighed, his eyes following the car until it vanished in the distance.
(— May I never have the displeasure of calling you my enemy, Alyssa Bloodwod.)
He stood in silence, lost in thought.
Now he held power, and the spell of immortality had been broken.
Yet the price was steep: he had lost his mother's grimoires.
Not the most important ones, but still, precious fragments of a legacy.
Why had he trusted a mercenary instead of his own witches?
The answer was simple.
Alyssa possessed something his allies lacked: a name. A reputation.
If she betrayed a client, she would lose credibility — the very foundation of her survival.
His allies, on the other hand, were driven by fear and reverence.
Fragile bonds. One mistake, and such loyalty could collapse.
---
(— Klaus, I found the wolf you were searching for.)
The firm voice shattered the silence.
A man in a dark suit approached, a confident smile upon his lips.
(— Hayley Marshall. A drifter. Never part of a pack. Her bloodline is unknown. Orphaned, drifting from home to home.)
(— Very well, Madox.)
Klaus raised his gaze, cold and calculating.
(— Watch her. Bring her into the city when I give the signal. But do not let her know you led her here.)
(— Yes, sir.)
---
Later, after dispatching Madox, Klaus left the mansion.
He entered the car where Elijah's body lay, still pierced by the stake.
The reinforcement of immortality had not changed one cruel fact:
they were still vulnerable to the White Oak.
Without hesitation, he drove to the bridge.
Gasoline spilled, sparks ignited, and the wood was consumed by fire.
Then he did the same with the sawmill.
That night, the city suffered a heavy loss:
a bridge and an industry reduced to ashes.
---
Days later, tension grew.
(— What the hell is happening?!) Damon Salvatore roared, fury in his eyes.
(— A bridge and a sawmill? That can't be coincidence!)
(— Calm down.) Stefan retorted, arms crossed.
(— Why would anyone burn those places? Financially, yes, it hurts us. But nothing more.)
(— No… This was personal.) Damon clenched his fists.
(— And I'll find out who did it.)
Caroline laughed, sitting beside Elena.
(— Damon, stop with your main-character syndrome. Not everything is about you.)
(— She's right.) Elena intervened, though unease laced her voice.
(— The danger is real. Klaus is here… and he has the wolves.)
Caroline shivered at the memory of her capture.
(— Most of them are dead. Elijah took care of that.) Damon mocked, and Stefan nodded.
(— Perhaps. But the alpha still lives.) Elena countered.
(— And she may want vengeance. Elijah is in no condition to fight.)
(— Klaus… is this man even real?) Caroline whispered, doubt in her eyes.
(— People talk about him like some kind of boogeyman. Maybe he's just a legend...)
(— No, Caroline.) Stefan replied grimly.
(— Elijah survived the stake. They may be something far beyond vampires.)
(— I don't care what he is.) Damon snarled, his voice dark.
(— He won't sacrifice Elena.)
---
Meanwhile, elsewhere, a red-haired woman battled a pack of wolves.
They moved with unnatural strength and speed, even outside the full moon.
She struck two down with a kick and a punch, but they rose again.
(— What the hell is happening?)
She grumbled, snapping another's neck.
The body fell limp.
(— Well… that still works.)
In an instant, all six wolves collapsed, necks broken.
Panting, she stared at them.
(— What is happening to the werewolves?)
The crack of gunfire split the air.
Burning pain seared through her chest.
She looked down: blood.
Ahead, a man stood, gun in hand.
Darkness swallowed her.
Moments later, her eyes opened.
Black veins spread across her skin.
Before the hunter could react, she lunged.
The dry sound of a head rolling was the last echo left behind.
---
Upon a shadowed throne, a woman smiled, her voice silky and cruel.
(— Fascinating… This vampire has changed the game. Chaos has become… far more interesting.)
In the depths of the world, echoes answered.
A king of fire laughed from his throne of flames.
An ancient spirit awoke, hunger gnawing at its essence.
A dragon opened its eyes in a cavern, only to close them again.
In a forgotten military bunker, a pool of black sludge bubbled.
---
(— It is done.) Alyssa Bloodwod murmured, kneeling before a woman with emerald skin.
(— Excellent.) the creature replied, eyes closing in satisfaction.
(— I will no longer waste centuries purging vampires one by one. The Hybrid, the Originals, and their bloodlines have been cleansed. You may leave.)
Alyssa bowed her head and vanished into the darkness.
---