Michael tilted his head, eyeing the battered and chained Salvatore brothers with a look of mild amusement. "My, my," he mused, his voice smooth as silk. "What a charming little tableau of agony you've created here, Niklaus."
Damon, despite the blood dripping into his eyes, looked at the line-up of Originals. Elijah, Rebekah, Kol, and Finn all standing in the same room, undaggered and very much awake. He let out a dry, wheezing laugh. "Great. A full set. Just what I wanted for my birthday. Is there a group discount for the funeral, or do we pay per sibling?"
Michael chuckled, moving with a blur of speed. He gripped the heavy, vervain-soaked chains around Damon and snapped them like they were made of dry twine. He did the same for Stefan, tossing the metal links aside with a clatter.
"Isn't this pleasant, brothers?" Elijah said, smoothing his lapels as he stepped over a hybrid corpse. "A family reunion in the midst of a torture session. It really brings back the memories of the old country, doesn't it?"
Kol stepped forward, his eyes dancing with a manic, dangerous light. "Hello, Nik," he purred.
"Wait, Kol" Klaus started, his hand reaching out in a warning gesture.
He never finished the sentence. Kol blurred, the very silver dagger Klaus had used to put him under glinting in the light. He drove it deep into Klaus's shoulder, not enough to kill, but enough to burn and paralyze. Klaus let out a guttural groan, dropping to one knee. As he tried to push himself back up, Finn appeared from the side, delivering a brutal kick to Klaus's jaw that sent the hybrid skidding across the polished floor.
Stefan stood up on shaky legs, leaning against a chair for support. "Well," he rasped, "this is quite the reverse of how I thought the night would end."
"Fortune is a fickle mistress, Stefan," Michael replied dryly. "She tends to favor the ones who bring their own reinforcements."
Elijah walked up to the downed Klaus, looming over him with the quiet authority of an executioner. "Well... you weren't expecting this, were you, brother?"
Rebekah stepped in, crossing her arms as she looked down at Klaus with a mix of disdain and satisfaction. "Oh, no. I don't think he even planned for a scenario where he wasn't the biggest bully in the room. Look at the pitiful look in his eyes. It's almost... human."
Kol laughed, winding up a punch. "Shall I see if I can knock that look right off his face?"
"Easy, you lot," Michael interjected, though his tone was far from protective. "You just woke up. No need for such excessive warm-ups before we've even had a chance to talk."
Rebekah rolled her eyes, shooting a sarcastic look at Michael. "Tell me, sweetheart, what exactly happens to a body that hasn't moved for a long period of time? Is it 'excessive' to want to stretch one's muscles against the person who put them in a box?"
"In my professional opinion," Michael retorted with a sharp grin, "stiffness is best cured by a vigorous walk, or perhaps the systematic dismantling of a sibling's ego. Whichever comes first."
Elijah gestured toward Finn and Kol, who were already circling Klaus like sharks. "Well, then, there you have it. They clearly do need the exercise."
As Finn stepped in to deliver another blow, Klaus held up a bloodied hand, his voice a strained rasp. "Easy... easy! I just finished renovating this wing! I'd hate for you to ruin the wallpaper with my blood so soon after your... homecoming."
"Okay, wait a second," Damon interrupted, gesturing wildly at the line of immaculately dressed ancient terrors. "Why are there suddenly multiple Originals here? I thought we were playing a game of 'find the box,' not 'host a thousand-year-old family reunion' that I definitely wasn't invited to."
Stefan looked at Michael, his eyes narrowed. "What did you do, Michael?"
Michael chuckled, a low, melodic sound that seemed to vibrate the very air. He clapped his hands together once, the sound sharp as a gunshot. "Alright, enough. Everyone, settle down. The theatrics were fun, but we have business."
Kol sneered, his grip on the dagger tightening as he looked at Michael. "And why should we listen to you? You're not our blood. You're just a ghost who found a fancy new body."
Finn looked at Michael with equal aggression, his ancient resentment simmering just below the surface. Michael didn't flinch. Instead, he met their gazes with a look of terrifying calm.
"Well, maybe you should listen because I'm about to enlighten you all about a certain situation involving Niklaus's deepest secret," Michael said, his eyes flicking to Klaus. He saw the flicker of genuine panic on the hybrid's face. "And how that secret is about to do something... well, let's say diabolical."
Elijah's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about, brother?"
"Brother?" Kol barked, his eyes darting between the two. "What, you've taken him as your brother now, Elijah? Is that the new family dynamic?"
"Quiet, Kol," Rebekah snapped.
"Oh, no, no. You don't get to talk, sister," Kol spat, a cruel grin spreading across his face. "Seeing as you were shagging him a millennia ago. Which begs the question... are you shagging him now, hmm? Is that why you're so protective?"
Michael tilted his head, a spark of dark wit in his eyes. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know, Mr. Impulse Trigger? Careful now."
"That is none of your bloody business, Kol!" Rebekah shouted, her face flushing with rage.
Klaus let out a dry, pained chuckle from the floor, while Elijah simply pinched the bridge of his nose. "Enough. All of you."
Damon cleared his throat, looking at Stefan. "Okay, this is becoming remarkably awkward. I feel like I'm at a Thanksgiving dinner where everyone is armed. We should probably leave."
"Yes," Michael said, not even looking at them as he kept his eyes on the Originals. "That would probably be best. Alaric and Caroline are currently unconscious in the Lockwood cellar. You both should go check on them before they wake up and try to stake someone they shouldn't."
As the Salvatore brothers hurried out, Michael let out a long, weary sigh. He looked at the bickering siblings. Finn and Kol are already snarling at each other, Rebekah pacing like a caged cat. 'Not even half an hour together and they're already at each other's necks,' he thought. 'I'd dagger them all myself if it were up to me'
Abby's Farmhouse
Back in Monroe, the air in the kitchen had turned cold. Bonnie was staring at her mother, her head spinning with the revelations she'd just heard.
"So the 'weapon' in the fourth coffin... it's Klaus's mother?" Bonnie whispered, bewildered. "The same mother everyone thought he killed a thousand years ago?"
Abby nodded solemnly. "And now, the Order and I... we want to keep Esther from ever waking up. She needs to stay sealed."
"Just because Michael said so?" Elena asked, her voice skeptical.
"I know you think she's your salvation from Klaus," Abby said, looking between them. "But that's not true. Esther is a twisted woman. She's the one who turned her own offspring into monsters."
"To save them!" Bonnie argued. "To protect them from the wolves! That's more than I can say for you, Abby. You just ran."
Abby flinched, but her gaze remained steady. "I have my faults, Bonnie. I've made more mistakes than I can count. But one thing I will never do is turn my own child into an abomination and then try to wipe them off the face of the earth."
Elena frowned. "Them? You mean she wants to kill the Originals?"
"What, were you expecting that she would resurrect only to kill Niklaus?" Abby asked with a bitter laugh. "No. It won't just be Klaus. It will be every single vampire on the planet. She wants to undo her entire legacy."
"All of them?" Elena shook her head, her face pale. Even Bonnie looked shocked. "How would she even do that? There are thousands of them across the globe. There's no way."
"Oh, there is a way, my child," Abby said darkly. "A ritual involving the bloodline she created. But that's not all. The real reason Michael cannot allow her to wake... is because he believes she's working for Cade."
———-
The air in the Black Grove was so thick with stagnant power that Emily Bennett could taste it. She sat cross-legged before the ornate coffin, her hands hovering inches above the lid, which hummed with a defensive vibration that felt like a thousand stinging bees.
"I can't," Emily rasped, her voice cracking as sweat rolled down her face. She looked up at the Banshee, her eyes wide with desperation. "I told you. The seal is held by the entire Bennett line. To crack it by myself... it's like trying to move a mountain with a needle. It's impossible."
The Banshee didn't speak. Instead, she glided forward, her movement silent and ghostly. She reached into the folds of her dark garments and dropped a small object onto the dirt in front of Emily.
Emily looked down. It was a jagged, calcified piece of bone, grey and porous, but it hummed with a low, vibrating hum that made the very ground tremble.
"What is this?" Emily whispered, picking it up. The moment her skin touched the fragment, she felt a jolt of cold, ancient lightning shoot up her arm.
"Channel that," the Banshee commanded, her voice a chilling whisper that echoed from the trees. "It is a shard of a soul that has burned in the deepest pits for an eternity. It is more than enough to bridge the gap."
Emily didn't argue. She couldn't. The fragment was already beginning to seep into her pores, filling her with a dark, oily power that tasted of ash and sulfur. She turned back to the coffin and began to chant.
The wind began to howl. The bone fragment floated out of her hand, suspended in the air, spinning faster and faster until it was nothing but a grey blur.
The Banshee and the antlered creature stood like statues, their impassive gazes fixed on the box. A sudden, violent pulse of violet light shot out from Emily, hitting the coffin with the force of a physical blow. The bone fragment disintegrated instantly, its magic spent in a single, desperate burst.
The flames from the candles shot upward, turning into pillars of roaring fire. With a sound like a thunderclap, the lid of the coffin flew off its hinges, spinning into the darkness of the trees.
Monroe, North Carolina
Miles away, in Abby's kitchen, the temperature suddenly plummeted. Bonnie gasped, clutching her chest as a wave of pure, unfiltered dread washed over her. It was a cold that didn't just touch the skin; it sank into the marrow.
Abby froze, her cup slipping from her hand and shattering on the floor. Her face went ashen, her eyes wide and glassy.
"No... no, no, no," Abby whispered, her voice trembling.
"Mom? What is it?" Bonnie asked, her own magic flickering like a dying candle. "What was that? I felt... I felt my magic scream."
Abby looked at Bonnie, her expression one of utter terror. "It's too late. The seal... it's been shattered Bonnie."
"The box?" Elena asked, standing up, her heart racing. "Someone opened it?"
Abby nodded slowly, her breath hitching. "The Original Witch walks among us once more."
——-
As the smoke cleared from the center of the circle, a hand reached out from the depths of the coffin. It was pale, delicate, and entirely too steady for someone who had been dead for a millennium.
Esther Mikaelson sat up, her eyes snapping open. She looked at the Banshee, then at the creature with the deer skull. A thin, terrifying smile touched her lips.
"Tell your master," Esther said, her voice sounding like the rustle of dry parchment, "that I am ready to begin."