The Doppelgänger Mikaelson

Damon stood there, staring at Stefan, his fists still clenched, but the fire in his eyes was gone. If what Stefan said was true, then what was the point of all this? Fighting, killing, dying—only for everything to be wiped out anyway?

Before he could say anything, Katherine was already gone.

She moved fast, slipping through the chaos of the battlefield, dodging past bodies, blood, and fire. When she finally spotted Elizabeth and Elena, she didn't hesitate.

"Call it off," she said, her voice sharp.

Elizabeth turned, frowning. "Excuse me?"

Katherine wiped blood from her cheek, her chest rising and falling from the effort of running. "End this fight. Now. Before we all die."

Elena's eyes narrowed. "Why would she do that?"

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because if we win, we still lose?" She gestured to the battlefield. "Do you see the Originals? They're barely trying. And Ivar? He's actually enjoying himself. That should tell you everything you need to know."

Elizabeth was listening now, her expression unreadable. But Elena? She wasn't convinced.

"I don't care," Elena said, shaking her head. "I've lost too much already—Tyler, my dad, my best friend. All because of them." She pointed toward Klaus, who was still smirking as he toyed with Ryannen. "This is my chance to take my life back."

Katherine scoffed. "And you think this is the way?" She turned, motioning to the battlefield. "Who do you think is actually losing here? The only vampires dying are the weak ones. The cannon fodder. The Originals? They're toying with us. And if, by some miracle, we do win?" She stepped closer, her voice dropping. "What happens then?"

Elena didn't answer, but Katherine saw the hesitation flicker in her eyes.

"If Klaus dies, so does Damon. If Ivar dies, Stefan goes with him. Jenna, Caroline, all of them—they're sired to the Originals." Katherine tilted her head. "You say you've lost so much because of them. Well, keep going, and you're about to lose even more."

Elena swallowed, her hands tightening into fists.

She hated this. She hated that Katherine was making sense.

Elizabeth finally spoke, her voice calm but firm. "If this is true, then we need to reconsider our next move."

Elena clenched her jaw, still looking at the battlefield, at the chaos, at the people fighting.

She wanted this war.

But not if it meant losing everything she had left.

Ivar smirked, as if hearing every word they had spoken. His eyes flickered in Elizabeth and Elena's direction, amusement dancing in them like a predator toying with its prey.

"I don't think so," he said.

The entire battlefield fell into an eerie silence. The clash of swords, the screams of the dying, the crackle of fire—it all stopped, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

"You lot, retreat," Ivar ordered, his voice carrying through the dead air.

Klaus frowned, clearly displeased. He had been enjoying himself, reveling in the bloodshed. Ivar the Boneless, standing beside him, looked equally annoyed, but neither of them argued. Without hesitation, the Originals, Alyssa, and the rest of their kind withdrew from the battlefield, vanishing into the shadows.

And then, Ivar rose.

Slowly, effortlessly, he floated upward, his dark cloak billowing behind him. All eyes turned to him as he ascended, his presence suffocating, his gaze cold and unfeeling. Higher and higher he went, until he looked down on them all like a god gazing at insects.

"You disrespected me," he said, his voice calm but filled with quiet fury. "You disrespected my family."

No one moved. No one even breathed.

"We were at peace. You lot were the ones who broke it. And did we strike first? No." His lips curled. "We only retaliated when you mistook a fleeting advantage for true strength. I even gave you a way out."

He chuckled, low and mocking.

"But you fools thought you could stand against me. Against us. You thought you were invincible."

His expression darkened.

"Today, I will show you why I am Ivar. The God of Vampires. The Invincible Immortal."

He raised his hand.

"Umbral Dominion."

The words spread like a whisper, carried by the wind, but the second they reached the ears of those below, the world changed.

A black mist erupted from Ivar, stretching across the battlefield like a living, breathing entity. It slithered through the air, curling around bodies, sinking into the ground. Then it struck.

The first screams came instantly.

The mist ate them. Not like fire, not like decay—there was no burning, no rotting. One second, they were there. The next, they were gone. Their bodies dissolved, limbs vanishing, flesh stripped from bone before even their bones crumbled into nothing.

A Guardian near Elizabeth tried to run. His legs snapped before he could take a step. His mouth opened in a scream, but no sound came. The mist reached inside him, his eyes rolling back as his body caved in on itself.

Blood splattered. Flesh burst open. Some Guardians simply collapsed, their insides liquefying as the mist crawled through them. Others had their throats crushed before their heads exploded, the pressure inside them too much to contain.

The battlefield became a slaughterhouse.

The mist didn't just kill—it tormented. Some were flayed alive, their skin peeling from their muscles like wet paper. Some had their limbs twisted in unnatural angles before being ripped apart. Others coughed and choked, black tendrils forcing their way down their throats, suffocating them from the inside.

Elizabeth tried to move. The moment she did, the mist latched onto her leg.

Pain—raw, excruciating pain—ripped through her body. It was like her veins were on fire, her muscles shredding apart. She screamed, falling to her knees, but she didn't die. Unlike the others, she wasn't torn to pieces. She was left there, broken, barely clinging to life, forced to watch as the mist devoured the last of her people.

And then, silence.

The battlefield was empty.

No bodies. No blood. No remains.

Just Elizabeth, barely breathing, her vision blurring, and Ivar, floating above like a god, looking down at his handiwork with a satisfied smirk.

Ivar descended slowly, his boots touching the blood-soaked ground with a quiet finality. His eyes swept over what was left of the Mystic Falls gang.

Elena, barely standing, her face pale with shock.

Jenna and Caroline, battered and barely breathing.

Damon, fists clenched, rage simmering behind his eyes.

Katherine—already taking a step back, her body tense, ready to bolt.

And Alaric… dead again. His lifeless body lay in the dirt, for the third time today all thanks to the Gilbert ring.

Ivar let out a short, humorless laugh.

"Look at this," he said, his voice calm, almost bored. "The consequences of coming at me and my family."

His gaze landed on Elena, then flickered back to the destruction around him.

"I've been quiet for far too long, and you lot thought you could do whatever you pleased." He shook his head. "Now, you bear the consequences of your actions."

Without another word, he lifted his boot and stomped down on Elizabeth's head.

A sickening crack.

Blood and bone splattered across the dirt. The last Guardian was gone.

Katherine gasped, horror flickering across her face. Ivar turned to her, eyes locking onto hers.

"Run."

She didn't hesitate. She spun around and bolted, vanishing into the darkness.

Elena couldn't speak. She couldn't move. She could only look. At the battlefield. At the bodies. At her mother—headless, lifeless, gone.

Her knees gave out. She hit the ground, hands trembling as she reached toward her mother's body, but she couldn't bring herself to touch it.

A quiet sob left her lips. Then another.

Then, she screamed.

A raw, broken sound that tore through the air, rising to the heavens.

And the heavens answered.

Power surged through her, golden and blinding, crackling in the air around her like a storm. The ground trembled. The sky darkened. The air hummed with something ancient, something primal.

Then, just as suddenly as it came, the power vanished.

Elena's body went limp, and she collapsed, unconscious.

Ivar watched, expression unreadable.

For a moment, it seemed like he might do something—kill her, take her, something. But then, he simply turned away.

"Let's go," he said, walking off to rejoin his family and allies, leaving behind the broken ruins of those who had dared to stand against him.

A/N

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