Barry's smile widened, a knowing glint in his purple eyes. "The kind of information that reshapes destinies, Mr. Niklaus. The kind that pulls back the veil on hidden truths and unseen forces. The kind that reveals the complete tapestry of past, present, and even probable futures. Think of me as a... particularly well-informed historian. I've had the distinct pleasure of observing countless timelines, countless sagas unfold. Your own, for instance, are quite fascinating. I know the intricate paths you've walked, the choices you've made, the adversaries you've faced, and even the ones you've yet to encounter. All of it, accessible here."
"Do we seem dumb, that you expect us to just accept this shocking news? We must seem like clowns to you uh?." Scolded an exasperated Klaus," This is ludicrous, fairytale spun by liars alike, liar like you!!."
A chill went down Klaus's spine, despite his attempt to maintain an air of indifference. To know the "probable futures"... the thought was both intoxicating and deeply unsettling.
Aya, too, narrowed her eyes, recognizing the sheer power embedded in such knowledge.
Hell, even the likes of Qetsiyah who seemed to have to given up on life and was weathered out from jealousy seemed excited.
"As for power and items," Barry continued, unfazed, "the Axiom itself is steeped in the Everjade's influence. It can manifest, create, or even enhance. You merely need to understand the cost, or the service required." He gestured vaguely. "But there's another gift, one inherent to all who truly become a part of this gathering, a benefit that sets you apart from even the most ancient beings of your former worlds."
He paused, letting the anticipation build. "All members of the Astral Germinal, once their Seat is claimed, gain a unique form of immortality. You are tied to the Axiom's very existence. When you die—and make no mistake you can die,"
"but no matter how, you will be found—your essence will be drawn back to this place. And after a set time," He said after a short pause," You will regenerate, fully restored, fully alive, no matter the cause of your demise. This is a permanent bond, a cycle of rebirth tied directly to your Seat."
A stunned silence fell. Freya's eyes widened, her magical senses reeling at the sheer audacity of such a spell.
Mikael, who had been listening with a quiet, almost smug satisfaction, now allowed a faint, knowing smirk to grace his lips.
But it was Klaus who reacted most violently. His breath hitched, his carefully constructed facade cracking under the weight of Barry's words.
His gaze shot to Mikael, seated across the table, a chilling realization dawning in his eyes.
'Either way, I will be back soon', he shuddered as he remembered the chilling words his father used at the beginning of the meeting.
His father. His unkillable, unyielding, relentless father.
Klaus felt a visceral, icy dread clench his gut. He had managed to kill Mikael before, using the white oak stakes, some luck , and with every ounce of his hatred. He had even grown used to the peace.
And now, he was supposed to just accept that Mikael would come back? No possible, never will he accept it.
Cause that would mean Mikael would always, always come back. After a period of time. Just enough time for the fear to fester, for the dread to grow, before the monster he could never truly escape would rise again, driven by his eternal, hatred.
A shiver, raw and involuntary, ran through Klaus Mikaelson's formidable frame. It was a tremor born not of cold, but of pure, unadulterated terror.
He looked at Mikael, whose smirk seemed to grow wider, a silent promise of endless torment.
The new immortality, intended as a gift, was, for Klaus, a fresh, eternal hell. A new dread for him to suffer from endlessly
"How could you give such a thing to someone like him, Allen? I wouldn't accept that," I screamed at the top of my lungs, only to be put down with a question," And many would say that of you, gaining a power like this.. plus I didn't give him to be exact!!."
"So," Barry concluded, oblivious to Klaus's internal turmoil, or perhaps, perfectly aware of it, "are you ready for the real work to begin?"
The question hung in the air, weighted by revelation and newly forged dread.
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The silence that followed Barry's pronouncement of permanent, regeneration was thick, weighted by Klaus's palpable dread. The Hybrid's shudder was not lost on Mikael, whose knowing smirk now seemed a permanent fixture.
"Information," Klaus finally managed, his voice strained, forcing himself to break the oppressive quiet. "You spoke of information. Prove its worth."
Barry's purple eyes glinted, a spark of amusement there. "Gladly, Mr. Niklaus. Let's begin with something pressing, something that has, or will, cause you considerable inconvenience." He leaned forward, his voice dropping slightly, yet clear in the hushed chamber. "Your brother, Finn, is currently linked to your entire bloodline. Any harm that comes to him, comes to you and your siblings. An inconvenient leash, wouldn't you agree?"
Klaus's eyes widened, a flicker of genuine shock, quickly masked by fury. "What sorcery is this? And how would you possibly know that?"
"Further still," Barry continued, unperturbed by Klaus's growing agitation, "the White Oak Stake, the very weapon capable of ending an Original for good, is not only still in existence, but currently resides in the possession of a Scooby gang in Mystic Falls. I believe you should already know them.' Stefan, Damon, and Elena, if memory serves."
Klaus scoffed, a dismissive laugh escaping him. "You lie! That weapon was destroyed, scattered to ash decades ago. There is no White Oak Stake, not anymore. You speak nonsense." His disbelief was evident, a protective shield against the ultimate threat.
Barry merely raised an eyebrow, unbothered by Klaus's protest. "Indeed? Did it truly, Niklaus? Or did a piece of it, carved from the very tree your family derives its power from, simply fall into the right hands? A rather stubborn piece, wouldn't you say?."
Barry paused, allowing his words to sink in, then delivered the final, crushing blow of information. "For you see, Mr. Niklaus, should any of you Originals perish by the White Oak, your entire sireline — every single vampire you have ever turned — would also perish. A domino effect of catastrophic proportions, eliminating centuries of your progeny with a single splinter of wood."
The revelation landed with the force of a physical impact. Klaus's breath hitched, the casual arrogance draining from his face to be replaced by dawning horror.
The thought of all his carefully built influence, all his creations, crumbling to dust because of a misplaced piece of wood in the hands of children was infuriating, terrifying.
Aya Al-Rashid, however, saw a different kind of opportunity. Her eyes, fixed on Mikael and then Klaus, burned with a predatory gleam. "What happens," she interjected, her voice sharp as a blade, "if we kill an Original here? For example, Mikael," To the person in question just scoffed, maybe it was spurred by pride or confidence.
"Or what of Elijah, should he ever join this charming assembly? If what you say is true about the sireline, it changes everything."
Barry turned to her, his expression serene. "An excellent question, Miss Al-Rashid. And a crucial distinction. Prior to your association with the Axiom, the White Oak Stake was the only true death for an Original."
"Now, however, the rules have... evolved. If you were to 'kill' an Original outside the Axiom's influence, without a Seat, their death would be final, and their sireline would fall." As slyly laughed and winked at the dark beauty," but as of right now, for those who hold a Seat, the resurrection still applies, and their sireline will still remain intact."
He looked directly at Klaus. "Even with a White Oak Stake. Your father, for instance, would still return in some days, and his progeny would suffer no ill effect. And if you, Mr. Niklaus, were to somehow be staked outside, by the 'Scooby Gang' for example," we heard mocking laughter," you would still regenerate and be resurrected, perfectly intact, due to your new bond with The Seat of Red. Your sireline, too, would be preserved."
A gasp went around the table. Mikael's smirk widened into an even bigger triumphant, chilling grin.
Klaus, who had just been paralyzed by the threat to his lineage, now found himself in a new, even more terrifying paradigm, something more frightening to keep his mind chilled.
His father was now truly, eternally inescapable, and even death by their ultimate bane couldn't stop him from his eventual return.
"However," Barry continued, his gaze returning to Klaus, almost as if he were reading his thoughts, "the bloodline linking you to Finn is... inconvenient. And quite frankly, rather inelegant magic. Consider it a welcoming gift, Mr. Niklaus: I can sever that linking spell for you and your siblings."
Klaus stared, his mind reeling. Freedom from the bloodline link? It was a prospect almost too good to be true, a constant threat eliminated.
"To truly sever the bond, however, requires a touch of my power personally," Barry added, a subtle shift in his demeanor, hinting at his ability to travest distance. "We'll arrange a meeting for that."
"And as for Elijah, he and I have some unfinished business" Barry continued, his voice taking on a slightly harder edge, a flash of something cold in his purple eyes, "he did kill one of my subordinates."
Marco Dwanvigo, 'The Builder,' cleared his throat from his Seat of White. "But Black," he interjected casually, though a hint of amusement played on his lips, "you already brought Slater back, didn't you? He's quite well, actually, working in the Archives. Even said he appreciates the quiet."
A stunned silence fell over the table, even Barry's calm breaking for a fraction of a second. Klaus, Aya, Francesca, Maxwell, Qetsiyah, Mikael, Freya, and Celeste all looked between Barry and Marco, their minds struggling to reconcile the casual revelation.
Barry, the now seemly unreadable host, had expressed a personal grievance, only for one of his own ancient colleague to reveal he'd already fixed it.
Barry recovered quickly, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. "Indeed, Marco. A minor detail. My apologies. Force of habit." He then looked back at Klaus, a wry twist to his mouth. "Nevertheless, Mr. Niklaus, I still have... an interest in a private discussion about Elijah at some point. We can talk more then."
The air crackled with unspoken questions, with the overwhelming sense that the rules of their reality had just been shattered, reassembled, and then shattered again, all in the space of a few minutes.