Two days blurred by in the Salvatore School like pages in a whirlwind novel, structured yet chaotic, laced with the undercurrent of impending doom that James had come to expect from this world. Afternoons brought sparring sessions in the gym, werewolves roughhousing, witches flinging spells.
The delay on the gargoyle had been a godsend. No attacks disrupted the fragile normalcy. Instead, James focused: assess threats, build alliances, test limits.
Hope became his anchor. They stole moments in the library, her teaching him basic wards while he "accidentally" shaped water into protective veils.
"You're a natural," she'd say, her smile cracking the Mikaelson armor. One evening, by the lake, she opened up more: "The dragon… it reminded me of Dad's stories. Monsters he fought. I miss his voice."
James shared fabricated fragments of Landon's past—foster homes, lost brothers—blending truth with lore. "Feels like I'm piecing myself together," he confessed, voice thick. Her hand on his arm lingered, a spark neither addressed.
Alaric ran tests: blood draws revealing no witch markers, no wolf DNA. "Hydrokinetic anomaly," he dubbed it. "We'll monitor." Josie baking cookies for "new kid vibes," Lizzie dragging him to movie night with snarky commentary.
But peace shattered on the third day.
It started innocently: community service. Alaric's punishment for the dragon skirmish's "recklessness"—students picking trash along Mystic Falls High's perimeter, blending with locals to maintain the facade.
"Keeps us grounded," he grumbled, handing out gloves and bags. The group—Hope, the twins, MG, Kaleb, and James—trudged the treeline under a gray sky, laughter punctuating complaints.
James bent for a soda can, water power sensing the river nearby, a potential arsenal.
Then, the rumble. From the high school's rooftop, a gargoyle statue cracked, stone grinding like teeth. Eyes glowed crimson, wings unfurling with a dusty snap. It leaped, landing with earth-shaking force, petrifying mist exhaling from its maw.
"Monster!" Lizzie yelled, flinging a fireball that chipped its shoulder.
The gargoyle roared—a gravelly echo—and charged. MG blurred forward, slamming into it; the stone beast swatted him aside like a fly.
Josie and Lizzie linked hands, chanting a containment spell, vines erupting from the ground to ensnare its legs. It thrashed, breaking free, breath misting toward Kaleb—he froze mid-step, body hardening to statue-gray.
"Get back!" Alaric barked, crossbow firing bolts that shattered on its hide. The locals screamed, fleeing; the sheriff drew her gun, useless pops echoing.
Hope blurred in, hybrid strength coiling. She dodged a claw swipe, knife flashing—the Malivore blade, humming with ancient power. "Aim for the chest!" she called, leaping onto its back, wings battering her.
James hung back initially, rational: observe patterns.
The gargoyle was relentless—strength over speed, breath weapon turning a deputy to stone. Fire wouldn't dent rock; water could exploit cracks. He summoned a stream from the damp earth, whipping it like a lasso around its arm.
The beast snarled, yanking free, but the water seeped into fissures, freezing on command—crackles echoing as stone splintered.
James wanted to protect them. This family he'd infiltrated. "Hope, watch the breath!"
She nodded, flipping off its back as mist billowed. Her spell deflected it, but the gargoyle lunged, claws raking air inches from her throat. Alaric fired a distraction bolt; MG recovered, tackling its legs.
The fight intensified—twins hurling debris, Kaleb thawing with a counter-spell from Josie. The gargoyle petrified another student, statue clattering to the ground. Hope circled, knife poised. "I've got an opening!"
She charged, blade aimed at the chest—heart, vulnerability. The gargoyle reared, wings flaring, but she was faster, leaping high.
Time froze.
The world grayed: Hope mid-air, knife glinting; gargoyle's maw open in silent roar; debris suspended like confetti. James alone moved, breath echoing.
The screen materialized.
INVENTORY UNLOCKED. DESCRIPTION: CAN STORE ANYTHING USER WANTS, EVEN LIVING BEINGS, NO LIMITS.
A pause, text shifting.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO STORE THE GARGOYLE IN INVENTORY?
James stared. Inventory? Like a video game—endless pocket dimension. He can capture threats, store allies, hoard artifacts. No limits? Living beings?
"Yes," he said.
The screen pulsed, vanishing. Time resumed.
Hope's knife descended, but behind the gargoyle, air ripped open. A swirling portal bloomed, edges crackling with void energy, a yawning maw of darkness.
From it emerged two massive hands, ethereal, scaled like dragon hide but spectral, fingers long as swords.
The gargoyle twisted, sensing the anomaly, but too late. The hands clamped its wings, stone crunching under grip. It roared, thrashing, petrifying breath spraying harmlessly as the portal yanked backward.
Claws scraped ground, gouging furrows; wings folded unnaturally. Hope halted mid-strike, eyes wide, knife dropping to her side.
"What the—?" Alaric gasped.
The hands dragged relentlessly, portal swallowing the beast inch by inch—tail lashing, eyes dimming in panic.
A final gravelly screech echoed as its head vanished, the portal snapping shut with a thunderclap, leaving only silence and a faint ozone scent.
The group stood frozen—not petrified, but stunned. Kaleb thawed fully, rubbing his arms. Josie lowered her hands, vines wilting. Lizzie blinked. "Did… did we just win? Or hallucinate?"
Hope landed lightly, sheathing the knife, gaze locked on the spot. "That portal… it took it. Alive."
James feigned shock, heart pounding. "What just happened? One second it's there, then… gone."
Alaric approached cautiously, scanning for remnants. No mud—no Malivore reabsorption. "Not like the dragon. This was… contained. Captured." He turned to the group. "Anyone sense magic? Portal spell?"
Heads shook. Hope's eyes met James's, curious, probing. "Landon… your water. Did you…?"
He shook his head, wide-eyed. "No. I was freezing its arm, but that? Way beyond me."
Relief washed over them. The petrified victims stirred, stone flaking away as the gargoyle's influence vanished.
The deputy groaned, sitting up; the student blinked in confusion. No deaths. A win, twisted by mystery.
Sheriff Matt holstered her gun, approaching Alaric. "What the hell was that thing? And where'd it go?"
"Animatronic prank gone wrong," Alaric lied smoothly. MG stepped in: "Gas leak hallucination. Everyone's fine. Go home."
He nodded blankly, dispersing the crowd.
Back at school, debrief in Alaric's office was tense. "Portal wasn't ours," he said, pacing. "No spell residue. But it saved us. Coincidence? Or ally?"
Josie frowned. "Or trap. What if it's stored somewhere, waiting to break free?"
Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Great. Now we've got a rock monster in Schrödinger's box."
Hope sat quietly, knife on the desk. "The knife didn't kill it. Whatever took it… interrupted." Her gaze flicked to James again, soft with unspoken questions.
The inventory—mental probe revealed it: a vast, formless space in his mind, the gargoyle suspended, alive but dormant, like a paused game asset. No limits. Power exponential.
As the meeting wrapped, Hope pulled him aside in the hall. "You were amazing out there. The water freeze—smart."
"Thanks," he murmured, blush creeping. "You too. Almost had it."
She smiled faintly. "Yeah. Almost." A pause, emotional depth: "This place… it's never quiet. But with you here, feels less alone."
He nodded, heart aching. "Same."