One Year Later
"So what do we do now?" Rebekah asked, sitting atop a pile of vampire corpses. Nailed to the wall nearby was a vampire with veins bulging all over his face, pinned there by a wooden baseball bat. "Another vampire just like Nik, with the exact same magical power he has. This is the eighth one we've found."
She looked down, shaking her head. Even her voice sounded defeated.
"What on earth is going on?" Rebekah muttered. "Not even first-generation vampires have the same magical power as us Originals. Kol, can these witches really be trusted?"
"They are trustworthy. What we're looking at here is sabotage of the highest order," Kol replied with a scowl. "The problem is that Klaus isn't clever enough for this sort of thing. I'd expect this from me, never from him. He's got someone very capable on his side… too capable, in fact. Clever enough to fool someone as impulsive as Klaus."
"You think he's being manipulated?" Rebekah's eyes went wide in alarm, and she grabbed him by the collar. "Tell me—do you think Nik is in danger?"
"Rebekah… Nik is a thousand-year-old vampire who's made every enemy imaginable in that time," Kol pried her hand away. "He's always in danger, and he's always been good enough to survive it."
"Even so," Finn spoke up, his tone sharp. "I couldn't care less if Klaus went to hell, but I'm not keen on fighting a dozen versions of him. If someone's trying to clone that idiot…"
"Relax. It's impossible to clone an Original. We have immense magical immunity. Even if technology advanced that far, you'd only end up with a regular vampire—our blood always turns people into ordinary vampires," Kol said dismissively, stepping closer to the look-alike corpse. "This fellow was young, with the strength of a normal vampire his age. That 'Klaus magic' we're sensing? It's not his power—it's suppression. Whoever this is, they're first-generation. That's why it feels like Klaus's magic… honestly, it's brilliant. And like I said—I'd expect this from myself, not him. He's not smart enough to pull this off."
Kol, speaking as someone who understood magic deeply, sounded more confused by the minute. Then a sound caught everyone's attention.
The vampire nailed to the wall began to move.
Cough… cough…
The veins across his face faded away.
"Told you he was first-generation," Kol said, pointing at him, sounding quite pleased with himself. He pulled the stake from the vampire's chest and—with one quick motion—ripped out his heart. "I'd really like to meet who's advising Klaus. They're remarkably skilled."
Five Months Later
Another massacre had taken place—only this time, the siblings were accompanied by a witch.
"Well, that makes twelve," Rebekah said through gritted teeth, holding the vampire's heart. "All of them first-generation. All of them look just like Nik. And every single one of them carries his signature magical suppression."
"What is your brother hiding?" the witch asked, bewildered. "People speak of him as if he were the very embodiment of evil… yet he's working remarkably hard to stay completely out of sight."
"I don't know," Kol muttered, frustrated. "But I'm going to find out. Or my name isn't Kol Mikaelson."
"Weren't you the one who just wanted to be free?" Finn asked, eyeing his brother curiously.
"Not when our impulsive, arrogant, paranoid brother is pulling off schemes smarter than he could ever manage on his own," Kol waved a hand sharply. "I want to know who this witch of his is…"
"I've received word," the witch said, looking between them, "that the magical ministries of Russia, France and Italy have all declared they have killed or captured the Dark Lord Klaus."
"Impossible," Kol said, sounding unimpressed. Then he sighed. "What actually worries me is his silence. He's far too proud to let rumors like this spread without a reaction."
"Could there be some truth to it?" the witch asked.
"Hardly," Kol scoffed. "A bunch of half-blood bureaucrats? They wouldn't stand a chance against an Original. But if Klaus hasn't responded, that means he wants people to believe it. He's lying low on purpose."
"Damn it, if this keeps up, we're going to lose his trail completely," Rebekah stamped her foot in frustration.
"Aren't you underestimating these witches?" the witch asked, offended. "Every witch in those ministries is noble, from ancient lineages."
"First of all—if they were truly ancient and noble… they wouldn't need wands," Kol sneered, rolling his eyes. "Only witch lineages less than five hundred years old rely on them."
"No—we wandless witches are the Chosen," the witch insisted, shaking her head firmly. "Nature itself chose us as its representatives. That's what makes us different. Just as you Originals are different from other vampires."
"Hahaha," Rebekah laughed lightly, amused. "Is that the story witches are telling themselves these days? Well then tell me—if you're the chosen ones, why aren't there wandless witches born to two human parents? Where are the ones who started their own lineages?"
The witch's eyes widened. She gasped and covered her ears.
"No, no, no—it can't be true," she whimpered. "I'm helping you! Why are you doing this to me?"
"Doing what?" Finn stepped up beside her. "We're showing you the truth. And let me tell you—just because nature didn't 'choose' you doesn't make you any less special. You come from a lineage that survived more than five hundred years. Be proud of that. You are descended from people who endured and thrived through the hardest times imaginable."
"What do you mean?" the witch looked up at Finn, stunned.
"The world is relatively peaceful now," Finn said, looking around. "But when I was born, long before my dear brothers decided to keep me out of the picture, things were very different. If you showed even a hint of being different… you were hunted. Humanity feared and despised anything supernatural. We couldn't stay in one place for long. Everywhere we arrived, we were met with suspicion. There have always been wandless witches, yes—but younger lineages were hunted like animals. Werewolves were at their peak then, though they had other worries. Most of them were eventually wiped out by vampires. I didn't live through it myself, but I know the stories… So yes—be proud of where you come from."
"Now that you're done softening the poor thing up," Kol said, clapping Finn on the shoulder. "Can we get back to it? Our idiot brother is up to something, and whenever he is, we always end up cleaning up his mess."
In Mystic Falls
"Achoo!" Klaus sneezed loudly and sat up, irritated.
"Love, what's wrong?" Jenna murmured, stroking his hair. "Come back to bed."
"Someone is talking trash about me somewhere," Klaus grumbled.
"Is that some vampire power? Just knowing when someone's insulting you?" Jenna asked sleepily.
"No. Just a hunch," he muttered.
"Well come back to sleep then," she pulled him back down. "Remember—you're taking Iris and Harry to the doctor early tomorrow morning."
"Mmhmm," he mumbled, and settled back to sleep.