At the Lockwood mansion, Caroline Forbes was trying to distract a restless Tyler Lockwood. The hybrid felt an internal unease, a sense of something important at stake, though he couldn't articulate why. The recent events with Klaus had left him feeling adrift, his loyalties and purpose in flux. He knew he should be focused on breaking his sire bond, but a deeper, undefined anxiety gnawed at him.
Matt Donovan, caught in the crosscurrents of supernatural drama, felt a familiar weariness. He'd just gotten his head above water, just started to process the craziness, and now the town was teetering on the edge of another crisis. He just wanted a normal life, but it seemed fate had other plans for him and his friends.
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Meanwhile, inside the gray fog, The Axiom
POV: Klaus Mikaelson
He leaned back in his seat, the dark stone chair strangely comfortable for something so ancient. His fingers drummed lightly against the armrest, eyes scanning the room with detached amusement. Seven strangers—or near-strangers—gathered by some mysterious upstart named Barry. The audacity.
But what truly amused Klaus... was Aya.
Still proud. Still sharp-tongued. And still burning with that endless need to prove herself better than her sire. He'd always admired that edge—until it turned to betrayal.
"You never could resist a dramatic entrance," Klaus murmured under his breath.
Aya felt a tremor of something akin to a primal urge to tear Allen limb from limb. Not because she was afraid – fear was a luxury she rarely indulged in – but because he had the audacity to not only abduct her but then declare her, Aya Al-Rashid, a mere applicant.
The idea was laughable, infuriating. She glanced at Klaus, whose simmering rage was almost a physical presence across the table. For once, they were united in their indignation, if nothing else.
"Earn our seat?" Francesca's voice was a low growl, dangerous and laced with disdain. "You speak of earning, yet you drag us here against our will. What precisely is this 'test,' A game of charades, perhaps? Or do we simply bow down and beg for your favour?"
Barry – or Allen, or whatever he called himself – merely smiled, unperturbed. His purple eyes, strangely calm, swept over the group of seven, lingering momentarily on each face. "Neither, Mrs Francesca. The test is a matter of alignment. Of proving your worth, not to me, but to the Axiom itself."
"So," Klaus finally said aloud, voice smooth, "you've gathered a wolf, a witch, a few humans, and two vampires who would rather stake each other than speak. All under the promise of what—some cryptic prophecy?"
"I've brought you together," Barry said, "because the world is shifting. The story is breaking. And each of you will be key to what happens next."
"Ah. A messianic riddle-spouting child," Klaus quipped. "Excellent."
Aya's lips twitched. Freya rolled her eyes. Maxwell just observed.
Barry didn't flinch. His eyes locked with Klaus's.
"You've lived for a thousand years," Barry quipped. "Killed kings. Raised armies. Burned cities. And yet… you're still shackled by your past. Imagine what you could become if you weren't."
For a moment, Klaus said nothing. That hit deeper than he cared to admit.
Francesca, the European woman who had questioned earlier, spoke up, her voice sharper than her previous query. "You keep mentioning the Everjade. And these 'seats.' What exactly are we aligning with? What are we even doing here beyond listening to your cryptic pronouncements?"
"Also are we to believe that this place - though it could be true, is actually the ancient manor of nature," we finally heard the tanned lady speak ," oh yes, my name is Qetsiyah Bennett.. I'm sure you must have heard of me."
Marco Dwanvigo, 'the Builder,' chuckled, a dry, raspy sound. "Patience, my dear. All will be revealed. But for now, suffice to say, the Nature is the source, the core. And Axiom is manor that was tainted and suffused with the energy of nature itself. As such it has very power capabilities," he then gestured to the tanned woman, "To think we would have a celebrity in our midst hahaha."
"She looks better than I imagined," Annabetha nodded, her gaze serene. "To think that I will get the chance to see a witch as old and far off into the past as you."
Aya scoffed. "So we're here for a magical job interview? You expect us to just accept this? What if we refuse your 'test'?" Her hand was still near her hidden blade, a silent promise.
Barry's smile remained. "Then you are free to leave. But I assure you, no one who has ever been called to the Axiom has truly 'refused.' The lure of potential… it's a powerful thing. And the consequences of ignoring a summons from this place… they can be far-reaching." His eyes glinted with something ancient. "Let's just say, the world has a way of correcting its imbalances."
Clide, the pale man, shifted in his seat, looking genuinely unnerved. "Consequences? What kind of consequences? Are we talking about… repercussions?"
"Perhaps," Barry conceded smoothly. "Or perhaps merely a life that feels… unfulfilled. A destiny left untended. But enough of the abstract. Let's make this more concrete for you, for those of you whose minds crave tangible reward."
He snapped his fingers. On the obsidian table, glowing lines of intricate energy pulsed into existence, mapping out a swirling, star-like pattern. In the center, a single, pulsating orb of golden light materialized.
"This," Barry stated, his voice now imbued with a compelling resonance, "is a fragment of the Axiom power. Each of you, the seven uninvited, possess the qualifications to join the Germinal gathering. Your test, if you choose to accept it. Is to understand which 'seat' resonates with your essence and awaken. "
Sabine, the other woman who had agreed with Maxwell earlier, leaned forward, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and wonder. "Awaken it? How?"
"Through a journey," Barry explained, the golden orb flickering. "A journey not of miles, but of self. The Axiom will present you with trials, challenges unique to your nature. They may be physical, mental, emotional, or even spiritual. You will face your past, your fears, your deepest desires. And should you succeed, the Axiom will recognize you. And you will claim a seat at this table."
Aya felt a chill, despite her outward calm. A journey of self, facing fears and desires? That sounded less like a test and more like psychological torture. Yet, the power emanating from Barry, from the room itself, was undeniable.
And the promise of a "seat"... a position of power in a place beyond time and space, with the ability to gain "anything you want"? It was a tempting, dangerous proposition.
Klaus, however, was far from convinced. He leaned back, a sneer twisting his lips. "So, you want us to jump through your hoops, uncover our deepest vulnerabilities, all for the privilege of joining your little club? And if we fail?"
Barry's smile faded, replaced by a look of genuine regret. "If you fail… you simply return to where you were, with no memory of this place, or any of us. The Axiom protects itself. But you will have missed an opportunity unlike any other."
Camille, who had been quiet until now, watching with keen witchy interest, finally spoke. "And that Mikael guy? Why is he exempt from this 'test' of yours?."
Mikael, surprisingly, had a rare, almost pleased expression on his face. "Because I was invited," he rumbled, his gaze fixed on Klaus. "By a member who recognized my… potential. It seems some of us are simply destined for greatness unlike others, Niklaus."
Klaus's eyes narrowed, a vein throbbing in his temple. "You invited him?!" he snarled, glaring at Barry.
Barry merely raised an eyebrow. "Each seat holder may invite up to two guest who resonates with them. Mikael was chosen by one of my colleagues who recognized his…" he explained as he gestured toward Mikael,"Unique drive. As was Freya, chosen by another, for her inherent connection to the esoteric."
He then looked back at the rest of us. "So, the choice is yours. Remain and face the trials, or return to your mundane lives. But know this: the Axiom has opened its doors." He paused as his voice dropped lower, and colder,"It will not do so again for you."
Aya looked from Klaus's seething anger to Qetsiyah quiet contemplation, from Maxwell's fear to Francesca's growing curiosity. This was madness. But it was also power. And for Aya Al-Rashid, power had always been the ultimate currency.
"Alright," she said, her voice cutting through the tension. "Tell us how this 'journey' begins."
Klaus scoffed again, but a flicker of a calculating look entered his eyes. He hated being manipulated, but he also hated being left out, especially from something that promised "anything you want."
Barry's smile returned, wider this time. "Excellent. The Axiom is already preparing. The trial will begin immediately. For each of you, it will be deeply personal. An echo of a choice you've made, a path you've walked, or a truth you've denied."
He gestured to the golden orb. "Touch it. And the Axiom will show you your beginning."