The Mystic Grill was quiet. Too quiet.
Ivar sat at the bar, a glass of bourbon in his hand, the ice clinking softly as he swirled it. The whole place felt… hollow. The town was still reeling from what had happened. The war was over. His enemies were dead or broken. And yet, for the first time in a long time, he felt... bored.
He took a slow sip, eyes narrowing as he let the liquor burn down his throat.
What now?
He had no more reason to stay in Mystic Falls. Elena had learned her lesson. Even if she awakened some Guardian power, she wouldn't dare move against him now. Not unless she had a death wish. And as for the rest? Katherine ran like the rat she was, the Originals had left, and Stefan—well, Stefan would have to deal with whatever mess came next.
But then there was Hayley.
That was the one loose end still bothering him.
She was coming. That much he knew. Because of her mysterious brother.
Klaus's first hybrid.
Ivar clicked his tongue in irritation.
It didn't matter.
If they are a problem, he will deal with it.
Ivar exhaled through his nose, pushing the thoughts aside. Right now, he just wanted to finish his drink in peace.
And then… the air changed.
The moment the door to the Mystic Grill swung open, something felt off.
Ivar turned his head, lazily at first. But when he saw who had walked in—
His eyes sharpened.
What. The. Hell.
The man was tall, dressed in a black suit with the kind of effortless swagger that made it seem like the whole world was his playground. His hair was styled to perfection, and his dark eyes glowed with amusement, as if he found this entire situation hilarious.
But it wasn't just the way he looked.
It was him.
Ivar's grip on his bourbon tightened slightly as realization hit him.
Lucifer.
Tom Ellis's Lucifer.
But that was impossible.
This wasn't L.A. This wasn't even his universe. So why the hell was the Devil himself walking into the Mystic Grill like he belonged here?
Lucifer's eyes swept the room, taking in the near-empty bar with mild disinterest before landing on Ivar. A slow, knowing smirk curled his lips.
He sauntered over like he had all the time in the world, his shoes tapping lightly against the floor.
"Well, well," he drawled, stopping just a few feet away from Ivar. "Fancy meeting you here."
Ivar didn't move, didn't blink.
The tension in the air was almost cinematic.
Two titans, two monsters, sitting in the same room, sizing each other up.
Ivar leaned back slightly, eyes cold but curious. "…You're not supposed to be here."
Lucifer chuckled, reaching for the bartender's attention with a casual flick of his fingers. "Oh, I know," he said smoothly. "Believe me, no one's more surprised than I am."
The bartender hesitated for a split second before hurrying over. "Uh… what can I get you?"
Lucifer flashed his signature smirk. "Old Fashioned, please. And be generous with the whiskey."
As the bartender scrambled to make the drink, Lucifer turned back to Ivar, tilting his head slightly.
"You look like a man with questions."
Ivar stared at him for a long moment, then took another slow sip of his bourbon before setting the glass down.
"…Start talking."
Lucifer's smirk widened.
"Oh, this is going to be fun."
Lucifer took the glass from the bartender with a lazy smile, swirling the amber liquid as he turned his attention back to Ivar.
"I must say," he began, voice smooth as silk, "it's not every day I walk into a bar and find someone who already knows who I am." He took a slow sip, savoring the taste before flashing Ivar an amused look. "That's a surprise."
Ivar exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable. "You're the Devil," he said simply, watching Lucifer over the rim of his glass.
Lucifer's smirk widened. "Oh, you do know. How delightful."
He set his drink down and leaned in slightly, elbows resting on the counter. "Then, my friend, allow me to extend my heartfelt gratitude." His eyes darkened, a flicker of something ancient and untamed lurking beneath his easygoing demeanor. "You see, thanks to you wiping out my dear siblings, the little bind they had on me all these years?" His fingers tapped against the glass. "Poof. Gone. Just like that."
Ivar's brows lifted slightly.
Lucifer chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean, I knew they were holding me back, but I never imagined it would take someone like you to cut the strings." He raised his glass in mock salute. "So, cheers."
Ivar didn't return the gesture. Instead, he studied the man in front of him, the weight of realization settling in. This wasn't just some cosmic joke.
This Lucifer… wasn't from the TV show.
He wasn't the one from his past life.
No, this was him.
The Guardian who fell from grace. The one the Guardians spoke of before their demise. The Devil.
The air felt heavier now. The lights of the Mystic Grill seemed dimmer, like reality itself was holding its breath.
Ivar leaned back slightly, tapping a finger against his glass. "So… You're that Lucifer."
Lucifer's smirk didn't falter, but his eyes gleamed with something sharp. Dangerous.
"The one and only."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Outside, the neon sign of the Mystic Grill flickered against the darkened street. Inside, the tension between the two was almost tangible, crackling like static before a storm.
Then, finally, Ivar exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he took another sip of his drink.
"…Well," he muttered, setting the glass down with a quiet clink. "Shit."
Lucifer laughed. A real, genuine laugh, full of amusement and something else—something almost excited.
"Oh, I like you," he said, grinning. "This is going to be very interesting."
Elsewhere
Elena's eyes fluttered open.
For a moment, she just stared at the ceiling, her breath slow and steady. But something was… off. She felt different.
Stronger.
More alive than she had in years.
A strange warmth coursed through her veins, humming beneath her skin like electricity waiting to be unleashed.
She blinked. Once. Twice. Then sat up—too fast.
The movement should have made her dizzy. Should have made her feel something. But instead, it was effortless. As if her body had become something more.
"Elena?"
She turned.
Her room was packed.
Jenna. Caroline. Jeremy. Damon. Stefan. Matt. All of them were there, their faces tense, their eyes locked on her like she was some kind of ticking time bomb.
Caroline was the first to move, rushing to her side with wide, worried eyes. "Oh my God, you're awake!"
Elena frowned slightly, her mind still catching up. "Yeah, I—" She paused. Her voice sounded… different. Smoother. Richer.
Jeremy stepped forward, his gaze flickering over her like he was trying to piece something together. "How do you feel?"
Elena opened her mouth to answer—then froze.
The sound.
The heartbeats in the room.
She could hear them. All of them.
Caroline's heartbeat was fast, full of excitement and relief. Jenna's was steadier but had that underlying tremor of unease. Damon's? Completely controlled, like always. Stefan's? A little too calm, which meant he was probably on edge.
And then there was Matt.
His heartbeat stood out because it was human. The rhythm was different. Weaker.
Her head snapped toward him before she could even think.
"Elena?" Matt took a step back, confusion flashing across his face.
She blinked, realizing too late that her body had moved before she'd even decided to.
Too fast.
Way too fast.
Caroline noticed it too. Her brows furrowed, suspicion creeping into her expression.
"Elena…" Stefan spoke up now, stepping closer. His voice was careful. Calculating. "What's the last thing you remember?"
Elena swallowed, forcing herself to focus.
The last thing she remembered—
The battle. Ivar. The pain. The power.
And then—nothing.
Until now.
She inhaled slowly, steadying herself. "I… don't know."
Jenna looked at Damon. "What the hell is going on?"
Damon sighed, tilting his head slightly as he studied Elena. Then, without warning—
He moved.
One second he was across the room. The next, he was right in front of her, reaching out. Testing something.
Elena reacted on instinct.
Before she even knew what was happening, she caught his wrist. Stopped him.
Dead in his tracks.
Damon's eyes widened slightly.
So did Stefan's.
Elena's grip tightened. Not because she meant to—but because it was easy. Like she could snap his wrist without even trying.
She let go immediately, staring at her own hand like it didn't belong to her.
Silence filled the room.
Then—
Caroline exhaled. "Okay," she said, forcing a nervous laugh. "What the hell was that?"
Elena had no answer.
But deep down, she already knew.
She wasn't just different.
She was something else.