The Doppelgänger Mikaelson

The wind howled through the empty field, carrying the scent of damp earth and dead leaves. Under the pale moonlight, Ivar walked alone, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, his expression unreadable.

Then—

A shift in the air.

The prickle of something unnatural.

Ivar sighed, already knowing where this was going. He closed his eyes for a second, listening.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Heartbeats.

Twelve of them.

Slowly, he turned.

Aja stood at the center of the group, her dark eyes locked onto him, filled with cold hatred. Eleven witches flanked her, their faces set with grim determination.

Ivar exhaled, tilting his head slightly.

"And what exactly do you and your little coven think you're doing, surrounding me like this?" His voice was calm, almost bored.

Aja took a step forward, her tone sharp. "You are a stain on this earth. A monster. We're here to erase you… and when we're done, we'll send your family to join you."

Ivar blinked. Then, a slow, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You think you're the first to say that to me?" He shook his head. "Sorry, child. Many have tried. They're dead now. And whoever sent you clearly forgot to tell you something very important—"

Before he could finish, the witches began chanting.

The air crackled with energy, invisible forces twisting and turning around him. The ground beneath his feet trembled. A cold wind swept through the field, whipping at his coat.

Ivar sighed, rubbing his temple.

He waited.

And waited.

Then… silence.

The witches stopped chanting, their brows furrowed in confusion. Nothing had happened.

Ivar opened his eyes, looking at them lazily.

"As I was saying," he continued, voice dry, "magic has no effect on me."

The change happened in an instant.

His eyes darkened. His skin paled. His veins pulsed like black ink beneath his flesh.

Then—

BAM!

Before Aja could react, he was right in front of her, his hand clamping around her throat like a vice.

"See you soon," he murmured.

CRACK!

He snapped her neck with effortless ease.

Her body slumped in his grip. But—

The other witches didn't fall.

Ivar frowned, tossing Aja's corpse to the side. "Huh. So, you weren't linked." He sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Guess I'll have to do this the hard way."

He raised a hand.

Snap.

In an instant, flames erupted around the eleven witches.

They screamed.

The fire burned unnaturally fast, swallowing them whole. Their bodies twisted and writhed, their voices rising in agony, but there was no escape.

One by one, they collapsed, their flesh turning to ash, their bones crumbling into nothing.

Ivar watched, expression blank.

And then—silence.

The flames flickered once, then vanished, leaving only charred remains behind.

Ivar exhaled, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve.

"Well," he muttered to himself, turning back toward the darkness, "that was a waste of time."

And just like that—

He disappeared into the night.

The wind carried the smell of burnt flesh and death. Smoke curled into the night sky, twisting and fading like ghosts returning to the abyss. Not far from the carnage, two figures crouched in the shadows, hidden behind the tall grass.

Shane exhaled slowly. His fingers trembled as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

Beside him, Abby sat frozen, her wide eyes locked on the scene before her. Her lips parted, her breath shallow, her hands gripping the dirt beneath her as if the earth itself could ground her.

Then—

A soft gasp.

Her body jerked forward. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

"No… no, no, no—" Her voice cracked. She shook her head violently. "Aja… the others…"

Shane didn't move. He just kept staring.

Abby turned to him, her face twisted in grief and fury.

"You lied to me!" she hissed, her voice sharp and raw. "You didn't tell me he was immune to magic!"

Shane's jaw tightened. He swallowed.

"I didn't know."

Abby's breath hitched. For a second, the only sound was the whispering wind.

Then—Shane's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"But… this isn't a bad thing."

Abby whipped around, staring at him in disbelief.

Shane met her gaze, his eyes dark and calculating.

"Now that we know magic doesn't work on him… we use something else."

Abby frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Shane's gaze flickered to the sky. The full moon hung heavy above them, casting a silver glow over the field.

"The sacrifice is complete," he murmured. "Twelve lives. The Expression Triangle… it's done."

Abby's breath caught in her throat.

Shane turned to her, his expression calm. "With this power… you can bring them back. All of them."

Abby's fingers curled into fists.

"Your mother. Your daughter. My wife. Everyone we've lost."

The wind howled. The air grew thick.

"All you have to do…" Shane whispered, leaning closer, "is activate the spell. Drop the veil."

Abby's heart pounded.

Somewhere beyond the veil, beyond death itself…

There could be someone waiting.

Someone strong enough to kill the Originals.

Someone who could rip Ivar apart.

Her breath shuddered.

Two birds. One stone.

Slowly… her trembling fingers reached for the blade at her side.

The wind stopped.

For a second, everything was silent. The kind of silence that didn't belong. Heavy. Unnatural.

Then—

A crack.

Like glass splitting.

Abby's fingers were slick with blood, her palm cut open from the ritual dagger. Shane stood beside her, eyes locked on the full moon above, his breath coming out in quick, excited gasps.

And then—

The world shifted.

A low hum vibrated through the air. The ground trembled, a ripple spreading through the earth like a stone dropped into water. The sky darkened—not with clouds, but with something else. Something unseen.

And then—

They appeared.

Everywhere.

In the town square, a man in tattered clothes gasped as he stumbled forward, eyes wide in confusion.

In the woods, a young woman touched the tree beside her, feeling bark under her fingertips for the first time in years.

In a dimly lit bar, a vampire blinked, fangs bared in surprise.

Everywhere—the dead returned.

Alive.

Some looked lost. Others looked furious.

And some? Some smiled.

Because they knew exactly why they were back.

Abby's chest rose and fell, her heart slamming against her ribs as she turned to Shane.

"It worked," she whispered, voice shaking.

Shane grinned. "Oh, it more than worked."

The veil was down.

The Other Side? Gone.

And Mystic Falls would never be the same.