Reborn in originals

The artifact activated with a faint hum that quickly grew into a pulsing vibration. At first, the vampires showed no sign of noticing. Then, one by one, their expressions twisted in pain. Hands clutched at temples, knees buckled, and guttural groans of agony echoed through the ballroom.

The leader, once so smug, snarled in frustration as he dropped to one knee. His sharp features contorted, his glowing eyes dimming as if the weight of the artifact crushed his spirit. Around him, the other vampires collapsed, their bodies shaking as they struggled against the invisible force tearing into their minds.

Grayson stood frozen, his heart pounding. He hadn't expected the artifact to work so quickly—or so powerfully. Sheriff Forbes, calm despite the chaos, clicked her radio. "Move in," she said firmly. The doors burst open as deputies stormed in, guns raised but unnecessary. The vampires were already subdued, writhing helplessly on the polished marble floor.

Freya Mikaelson tilted her head, her expression one of analytical interest. Her sharp blue eyes glimmered with curiosity as she stepped forward, her hands folded casually in front of her. "Impressive craftsmanship," she murmured, her voice smooth and composed. Her gaze flicked to the artifact's glow seeping down from the ceiling, and a faint smile tugged at her lips.

Kol Mikaelson let out a low whistle, crossing his arms as he leaned lazily against a nearby pillar. "A bit heavy-handed, don't you think?" he said, his tone dripping with amusement. He glanced at his siblings, a mischievous grin lighting up his features. "Though I must admit, it's entertaining."

Elijah, ever composed, adjusted his cufflinks and observed the scene with an impassive gaze. His posture was upright and poised, his jaw tightening only slightly as he watched the vampires' humiliation. "It serves its purpose," he said quietly, his tone neutral but carrying a faint undertone of judgment.

Rebekah, on the other hand, arched an elegant brow, her lips curling in disdain as she surveyed the groaning vampires. "Pathetic creatures," she muttered, her voice low but cutting. She stood with one hand on her hip, her other casually brushing a stray blonde curl from her face.

Viktor remained still, his smirk faint but unshaken. His sharp eyes scanned the room like a predator assessing prey, noting every detail of the vampires' reactions. His fingers played idly with the stem of his wine glass, and his calm demeanor only heightened the tension.

And then there was Henrik. The youngest Mikaelson stood slightly apart from his siblings, his dark eyes wide with fascination. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the corners of his lips twitching as though unsure whether to smile or frown. "It's loud," he said softly, glancing up at Freya.

Freya patted his shoulder, her movements gentle. "It'll be over soon," she assured him.

The vampires weren't the only ones affected. A sudden gasp drew Grayson's attention to the center of the room. Mayor Lockwood, who had stood confidently moments ago, now staggered, clutching his head. His face turned pale, beads of sweat rolling down his temples as he dropped to his knees with a loud thud.

"No!" Carol Lockwood cried, rushing to his side. She grabbed his arm, her expression a mix of panic and confusion. "Richard, what's happening?"

Grayson's stomach dropped. His mind raced as the deputies moved in without hesitation, their faces grim. Two officers grabbed the mayor under the arms, hauling him up despite his wife's protests.

"This must be a mistake!" Carol screamed, trying to push past the officers. Her voice cracked with desperation. "You can't take him! He's not one of them!"

The deputies ignored her, their faces set in stone as they dragged the mayor out of the room. Richard Lockwood's eyes flickered with terror and shame, his lips trembling as he whispered, "Carol, I'm sorry."

Grayson's breath hitched. He watched the scene unfold, his chest tightening. He turned to Viktor, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Why… why isn't it affecting you?"

Viktor's smirk widened slightly, his gaze cool and unbothered. "Because we're not your usual vampires," he said, his tone smooth, almost mocking.

Freya stepped closer, her sharp eyes locking onto Grayson's. "The artifact is clever," she said, her voice calm yet authoritative. "But its reach only extends to those who fit a certain… profile."

Grayson's lips parted, but no words came out. His mind swirled with questions, but his focus was pulled back to the ballroom, where the vampires were being rounded up.

Kol clapped his hands together, the sharp sound breaking the tension. "Well, that was fun," he drawled. "Shall we call it a night?"

Elijah shot him a disapproving glance. "There's still much to address," he said firmly, gesturing toward the subdued vampires.

Rebekah rolled her eyes, brushing past them toward the exit. "I'll leave the cleanup to you lot," she said, her voice laced with boredom. "This was amusing, but I have better things to do."

Henrik followed her, his movements light and curious. He paused at the doorway, glancing back at Grayson. "You should keep an eye on your allies," he said quietly, his tone almost childlike but holding a faint edge of warning.

Grayson shivered. The Mikaelsons were more than he could comprehend, and for the first time, he wondered if allying with them had been a mistake.