Chapter 2: The Family of Monsters
The hallway outside Klaus's chambers was lined with torches, their flames hissing softly as I walked. Each step felt unnatural—too graceful, too confident—like my body remembered how to move even if my mind lagged behind. Klaus's instincts whispered at the back of my thoughts, urging me to stand tall, to project dominance. I listened. Instinct, apparently, had kept him alive for a thousand years.
The dining hall doors were already open.
Elijah stood at the head of the long oak table, hands clasped behind his back, posture immaculate as ever. He turned the moment I entered, dark eyes sharp and searching, as if he could sense something was… off. Kol lounged in a chair to the side, boots propped on the table, boredom written across his face. Finn sat rigid and silent, while Rebekah had already taken her seat, swirling a glass of wine.
"Brother," Elijah said calmly. "You're late."
I shrugged, channeling Klaus's habitual arrogance. "Time is a human obsession, Elijah. Something we've long surpassed."
Kol snorted. "Still dramatic, Niklaus. Some things never change."
Good, I thought. They're buying it.
I took Klaus's seat at the head of the table, the chair fitting me like it had been molded for my body—which, technically, it had. The power in the room was palpable. These weren't just vampires. They were legends. And I was sitting among them, wearing the face of the worst monster of them all.
"Elijah called this meeting because of rumors," Rebekah said, breaking the silence. "Witches are whispering again. About Mystic Falls."
My heart skipped.
Mystic Falls.
The town that would eventually become Klaus's greatest battlefield. The place where betrayal, hybrids, daggers, and coffins awaited him. I forced my expression to remain neutral.
"Rumors," I echoed. "Witches always whisper."
"Yes," Elijah replied, stepping closer. "But these whispers concern the doppelgänger. And you."
Every eye turned to me.
"There's talk that your future actions may provoke unnecessary wars," Elijah continued carefully. "I'd like to avoid that, if possible."
That was classic Elijah—hopeful, moral, eternally trying to save his brother from himself. The real Klaus would've laughed, mocked him, or threatened him.
I didn't.
Instead, I leaned back and studied my family. Truly studied them.
"I'm tired," I said finally.
Kol blinked. Rebekah frowned. Even Elijah looked momentarily taken aback.
"Tired of what?" Rebekah asked.
"Tired of running in circles," I said slowly. "Enemies begetting enemies. Revenge breeding revenge. We destroy everything we touch, and then we act surprised when the world hates us."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Elijah's eyes softened, just slightly. "Niklaus… are you saying—"
"I'm saying," I cut in, "that Mystic Falls doesn't need to become another graveyard. Not if we're careful."
Kol burst out laughing. "Oh, this is rich. Klaus Mikaelson, preaching restraint."
I smirked—this one genuine. "Enjoy it while it lasts, brother."
Rebekah leaned forward, studying me the way she had earlier. "You really aren't alright, are you?"
"No," I admitted. "But maybe… that's not a bad thing."
Elijah nodded slowly, hope flickering in his eyes like a fragile flame. "If you're willing to change course, Niklaus, then perhaps our family can finally know peace."
Peace, I thought bitterly. Klaus's memories screamed that peace was a lie. But I wasn't Klaus. Not entirely.
I stood. "This meeting is over. For now."
As I turned to leave, a new sensation rippled through my body—sharp, electric, and unmistakable. Power surged beneath my skin, ancient and wild.
The hybrid was awake.
And somewhere in Mystic Falls, fate had just begun to shift.