To Love the Devil

It happened in an instant. A moment so small, so impossibly human, that no one should have noticed.

But the universe did.

Far beneath the streets of New Orleans, buried in a temple that had long since been forgotten, something ancient stirred. The walls of the chamber, carved with prophecies older than the first breath of man, began to bleed. The words-unchanged for thousands of years-twisted, rearranging themselves as if reality itself was trying to rewrite its own rules.

"She was never meant to exist this way."

The witches saw it happen. Felt the shift in the air, the way the very fabric of existence flinched. One of them-a seer, her hands trembling-fell to her knees as a vision consumed her.

She saw the moment it began.

A grand ball. A girl in silver. A monster in love.

A kiss that should have never happened.

And then, the stars moved.

Not a gentle shift. Not the slow, silent turning of the heavens. They fractured. A pattern that had been untouched since the dawn of time broke apart, reshaping itself into something unrecognizable.

The universe screamed.

In the depths of the temple, the prophecy was still changing, words carving themselves into the stone with violent, jagged strokes. The seer gasped as she read the final line, her voice breaking on the last syllable.

"If he does not let her go... he will be unmade."

Somewhere, in the heart of New Orleans, Klaus Mikaelson pulled away from Caroline Forbes, the ghost of that kiss still burning on his lips.

He did not know what he had just done.

But the universe did. And it was already beginning to take him back.