The Mikaelsons felt her the moment she crossed the threshold.
Klaus stiffened mid-sentence, eyes snapping toward the door. Elijah's posture tightened, instincts flaring. Rebekah frowned, unease flashing across her features.
Kol grinned. "Now that's interesting."
She stepped into the room as if she belonged there, presence cool and detached. The threads strained violently, attempting to map her, failing every time.
"This town has grown ambitious," she said lightly.
Klaus smiled without humor. "And you are?"
"A correction," she replied.
The pressure in the room intensified, not aggressive but suffocating. Power met power, neither yielding, neither escalating.
"You destabilize older patterns," she continued, eyes flicking briefly toward me. "Balance was never meant to be centralized."
"I didn't centralize it," I said. "I distributed it."
She tilted her head. "Temporary solutions often mistake themselves for permanence."
The threads shuddered as she stepped closer. For the first time, they slipped, failing to respond quickly enough. I felt the recoil immediately, sharp and disorienting.
Elijah moved subtly closer to me. "You're harming the system by being here," he said.
She smiled faintly. "Good."
Klaus's expression darkened. "Leave," he said.
She met his gaze calmly. "Soon."
And then she was gone.
No ripple. No sound.
Just absence.