"Don't feel guilty for doing what's best for you." - unknown
Third Person
Hope heard someone's roar, too. "Are you all right?" he asked Hope, noting the sudden way she turned away from him.
Through the skylight's reflection, Hope saw her eyes glow gold. She fought against the animal instinct that pulsed through her veins, the lingering effect of the wolf's howl.
"Hope?" Scott called, tilting his head in concern.
"I'm fine," she said, her gaze drifting back to her reflection. This time, the gold sheen in her eyes had vanished. "What did you hear?"
She faced him again, sweeping her hair aside. Scott shook his head. "I think I heard Derek. We should get downstairs—I've got a bad feeling."
They hurried down to rejoin the party and arrived just in time to see Derek gripping the bouncer's neck—the one who was supposed to guard the DJ.
"Is that him? Derek?" Hope asked.
"Yeah," Scott confirmed, as they watched Derek fling the bouncer aside and seize the DJ's table, hurling it across the room. The entire crowd stopped and stared, too shocked to move.
Derek turned his gaze on the crowd, his glare so fierce that Hope feared it might cut them down where they stood.
"GET OUT!" he roared, the floor seeming to tremble beneath his voice.
"Damn, dude!" someone shouted, and then it was chaos—people shoving and clawing to reach the exits, desperate to escape. In moments, nearly everyone had fled.
A heavy silence fell, and in that stillness Hope and the others noticed a new presence: dark figures lurking in the dim light, each hidden behind a strange black mask. They were almost one with the shadows, barely distinguishable but unmistakably there.
"Scott, who are those guys?" Hope asked, nodding toward the masked strangers. Scott had no answer; he and the rest of the pack stood frozen. Nearby, Allison and Isaac steadied one of the twins, the tension crackling through the air.
Gradually, Hope realized they were the only ones left—Scott's pack remained, along with Rafael and Kira, who also stared at these eerie newcomers. Hope's own friends had vanished into the night.
In a synchronized shift, the masked figures turned their focus on Ethan. "Guys...they're all looking at me," he said, voice unsteady.
Moving in perfect unison, the masked forms stepped closer. Ethan's eyes darted nervously. "Why are they all looking at me?" he asked, panic rising with each identical stride they took toward him.
With no warning, Derek and Scott sprang into action, charging at the intruders. Their fists cut through the air, but the masked figures moved elegantly, almost casually slipping around every strike. Each attempted blow fell short, as though these beings had already seen it coming before the attack began.
Hope watched as Derek tried to snap one creature's neck, only to have it twist unnaturally and fling Derek hard against the wall.
Scott lunged next, but his target dodged with a graceful swirl and effortlessly knocked the Alpha to the floor. Isaac and Rafael charged in together, hoping a two-on-one assault might succeed. In response, the creature spun around and drew an obsidian blade from its own chest, dark mist curling around its form. The blade danced through the air in fluid arcs, forcing both boys to stumble back, instantly recognizing the hopelessness of a direct fight.
With lethal precision, the creatures closed in on Ethan. The one before him pressed a hand against his neck while two others restrained him. The flickering glow of their firefly-like eyes mesmerized him, leaving him frozen. The creature tilted its head, and an instant later, a sizzling burn ran through Ethan's body, dropping him to the ground.
Suddenly, all of them turned, locking their gaze on one person: Scott.
As they approached, Scott rose abruptly. His eyes blazed with a crimson light, and a thunderous growl rumbled from his chest. Kira's eyes went wide, while Hope—having seen such power before—showed less surprise. Just then, as sunlight streamed through the broad windows, the creatures began to fade until they were gone completely.
Aiden rushed over to his brother, frantic. "What the hell were those things?" Scott called, voice echoing in the silence.
Isaac looked to Allison, then back to Scott. "Your dad's twenty-four hours are up."
****************************
The next morning, Isaac, Scott, and Hope accompanied Allison back to her place to see her father, Argent. They found him in his office, nursing fresh cuts on his face. As Allison carefully tended to his wounds with a first aid kit, Hope took a seat in the chair opposite Argent and Allison, while Scott stood beside her with his arms crossed, and Isaac leaned against the desk.
Argent began recounting the first time he'd encountered the masked creatures. "His eyes glowed," Scott said, recalling how the one had looked at Ethan.
"There was something almost ritualistic about it," Argent explained. "Like it was peering straight into his soul."
"It's what they did to me," Isaac said, touching the mark behind his ear.
"They did it to everyone," Hope added.
"Not everyone," Scott corrected. "They only targeted the wolves in the room."
"And Lydia," Allison pointed out.
"It seems they'll go after anyone with a supernatural connection," Hope said, her voice thoughtful.
Isaac frowned, remembering the question that had been nagging him. "Then who was the guy they went after in Japan?"
"A kumicho," Argent answered. "A yakuza boss. It was my first gun deal."
"How old were you?" Hope asked.
"Eighteen," Argent replied. "It was supposed to be a simple exchange. My father, Gerard, didn't think to mention that the buyers were yakuza. He wanted to see if I could adapt—test my ability to improvise."
"More like test your ability to survive," Allison scoffed.
Argent continued, "The moment the sun went down, they materialized from the shadows. They carried swords, but not curved like katanas. Straight, black steel swords—ninjato."
"What did they want?" Scott asked.
"To get to the kumicho," Argent said. He described how they had killed anyone who tried to protect the boss.
"Did they mark him like they did us?" Isaac asked, still rubbing the back of his ear where his own mark lay hidden.
"No," Argent admitted. "They didn't mark him. Instead, they drove their swords into his chest until he was dead. Blood was everywhere."
"What was he?" Hope asked.
"I don't know," Argent said. "But there might be someone who does. A few others survived that night, including a man named Katashi—Silverfinger, they called him, because of an unusual prosthetic. He looked like he was ready to fight them all."
Argent explained he had spent time the day before trying to track Katashi down. "Doesn't look like he wants to be found," Isaac noted, glancing at Argent's bandaged face.
"Not particularly, no," Argent admitted.
"You think he knows what they are—or what they want?" Scott asked.
"Maybe."
"And if he doesn't want to talk?" Hope added.
"Or doesn't even remember you?" Isaac said.
Argent stood and walked over to a locked wooden box. He turned it around and opened it, revealing a silk-wrapped object inside. He carefully pulled back the cloth to reveal a broken mask—one of theirs.
Hope stood, genuinely shocked. "How'd you get that?"
"I shot it," Argent replied. "I know I didn't kill it; I don't think you can. But I slowed it down long enough for us to escape."
Scott picked up a piece of the mask. "What was behind it?"
"Darkness," Argent said grimly. "Absolute darkness. To be honest, I think these things are immortal."
Hope caught Scott's gaze and held it. "You could be wrong," she said, addressing Argent as she took in the mask's details. "Nature always finds a balance, especially where the supernatural is concerned."
"What do you mean?" Allison asked.
"Nothing is truly immortal," Hope said, her tone certain.
Isaac turned to her, hopeful. "Does that mean you could find a way to kill them?"
Hope looked at each of them in turn and nodded. "Yes."
****************************
Hope slipped back into the hotel, praying to avoid Alaric's notice. But the moment she opened the door to her room, she found him waiting inside—along with everyone else. The twins and the boys hovered uncomfortably, while Alaric sat on the bed, tense and glaring.
"Hey, Ric," Hope greeted meekly, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Don't 'hey Ric' me," he snapped. "Where the hell were you?"
Hope's gaze flicked to her friends, but Alaric cut her off. "No, don't look at them. I know you weren't at the school last night, and now you all roll in early this morning. What's going on?"
"Dr. Saltzman, I—"
"Don't even think about lying to me, Hope Mikaelson. Where were you?"
"I was with a friend."
"After that party you all went to?" He grimaced, and Hope realized what he was implying.
"N-No! It's not like that," she insisted. "Something happened last night, and—"
"I know," Alaric said, voice clipped. "The twins told me."
Hope's eyes darted to Lizzie and Josie. Lizzie avoided her gaze; Josie looked like she wanted to apologize through sheer willpower. "What else did they say?" Hope asked quietly.
"They told me about Scott and that there are other supernatural creatures in this town—ones you all know about."
Hope exhaled heavily. Alaric rubbed his eyes, frustration clear. "How could you keep me in the dark about all this? We're a team."
"I didn't want you to worry," Hope said, shoulders slumping. "Besides, we still need to figure out how to get out of here."
"That doesn't mean you keep secrets. I trust you, Hope, and I expect the same in return," Alaric said. "If I'd known—"
"You would've tried to stop me from helping them," Hope finished. "But they need help, believe it or not."
Silence stretched between them, thick with tension.
"Do they know about all of you?" Alaric finally asked.
"Just that the twins and I are witches, and Rafael's a werewolf," Hope admitted.
"And M.G., Kaleb, Landon?" Alaric gestured toward the three, who looked uneasy.
Hope's silence told him enough. They hadn't revealed themselves. Scott's pack likely assumed they were human.
"Hope, the supernatural beings here are different from those we know back home, but they're still supernatural," Alaric said gravely. "If there are creatures like that, then there must be Hunters."
"I told you we should've kept a low profile," Alaric continued, glaring at the group. "But you didn't listen."
"Ric, there's more," Hope said, and she proceeded to recount the previous night's events, describing the masked creatures and their attack. Alaric's expression tightened. "Well, shit. Maybe we should get out of town."
"They'd follow us," Hope countered. "They're going after anything supernatural, and that includes us."
"Then I need to talk to this 'Argent' guy," Alaric said firmly.
"He used to be a werewolf hunter," Hope acknowledged. "But you can trust him, Dr. Saltzman."
"Why?"
"Because Scott does," Hope replied simply. "And Scott's a werewolf—an Alpha, in fact."
"An Alpha?" Alaric sputtered, stunned. "He's just a kid!"
"Like we said," Hope reminded him, "the supernatural here are different."
Alaric paused, mulling this over as everyone else exchanged uncertain looks.
"Get ready for school," he said at last. "And give me the details on this former hunter. I want to talk to him."
Hope nodded.
"So, no punishment?" Lizzie ventured, and Kaleb groaned quietly, "Don't push it."
Alaric's eyes narrowed. "You're all grounded. School, then straight back here."
With that, he strode out of the room. Landon sighed softly. "Great."
The boys filed out, leaving Hope and the girls to hastily pull themselves together. They were already late.
****************************
At school, Scott and Stiles entered the chemistry classroom. Stiles's breathing was uneven, a nervous edge creeping into every word he spoke.
"The key's gone," he blurted. "The one on my keyring. I went to open the chemistry closet this morning and—it just wasn't there."
"The key you told me about last night?" Scott asked.
"Yeah, that one. I showed it to you, right?"
"No," Scott admitted, "you mentioned it, but I never saw it."
"Doesn't matter." Stiles paced toward the chalkboard, voice taut. "I was in here last night, and the message to Barrow—my own handwriting spelled out Kira and Hope's names right on this board. Plus, I had the closet key."
"You're saying you unlocked the closet so Barrow could hide from the cops?" Scott tried to process it, disbelief etched on his face. "And then you wrote him a message telling him to kill Hope and Kira?"
It didn't make any sense. Why would Stiles do something like that?
"I know how it sounds," Stiles said, voice dropping, "but look at this." He pulled a folded newspaper clipping from his pocket and held it up for Scott to see. "This is the report on Barrow when they caught him—the shrapnel bomb he used. He
packed it with nuts, bolts, and screws, then wrapped it in a box disguised as a birthday present."
Scott's expression darkened as he remembered. "That's like what we did to Coach...that prank."
"Exactly," Stiles said grimly. "That prank was my idea. This isn't some random coincidence, Scott. I can't ignore it."
Scott shook his head, trying to be rational. "Look, I'm not saying you're wrong to be worried, but I also don't believe you're out here trying to kill anyone."
He glanced at Stiles, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and how pale his friend looked.
Stiles clenched the newspaper in his hand, gaze drifting back to the board. "It was here," he whispered. "It was all here."
"Seriously, man, are you okay? Are you even sleeping?" Scott asked, eyeing Stiles with concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Stiles said, trying to sound casual. "I'm getting a couple hours here and there, but my mind's been racing lately."
"Go home," Scott urged, placing a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "Take a sick day or something."
He lingered for a moment, worried. Stiles was never like this—so tense, so on edge. Without pressing further, Scott left the classroom and met up with the twins waiting in the hallway.
"So, did you tell him about last night?" one twin asked quietly.
Scott shook his head. "Nah, he's got enough on his plate."
"Well, those things are going to come for you in a few hours," the other twin reminded him.
"Unless they're not coming for me," Scott countered. "Remember, we're not the only supernatural ones in town now."
The twins exchanged glances. "You mean Hope and her friends?" Aiden asked.
Scott nodded, but something pulled his attention. He caught a familiar scent and looked over to see Hope descending the stairs with Kira right beside her. His mind flashed to the masked creatures—if not him, Hope or Kira could be next.
He turned back to the twins, voice steady. "We need to get everyone, including Hope and her friends, to my place tonight."
"I'll tell Lydia to pass on the message," Aiden said.
Scott thanked them with a nod and headed off to make his preparations.
****************************
At Argent's home, Isaac, Allison, and Argent sat planning how to approach Katashi. As they discussed their strategy, the doorbell rang.
"Who's that?" Isaac asked, glancing toward the entrance. "Could it be the expert Hope mentioned?"
Argent gave a thoughtful shrug. "You know him?"
"Never met the guy, but he's the twins' father," Isaac explained.
"The witch twins?" Allison clarified. "Is he a witch too?"
Isaac shrugged. "Hope never said anything about him being a witch. Guess we'll find out."
"Well," Isaac added, "if he is, maybe he can help us not get murdered by the Japanese mafia."
Argent sighed, still adjusting to the notion of witches and magic. "Let's just see who we're dealing with."
He opened the door to find a tall man. They sized each other up briefly. "You're Chris?" the man asked.
"Argent is fine," he replied, offering a handshake before leading the newcomer inside.
In the office, Alaric shook Allison's hand and then Isaac's. "So," Isaac began, "you're a witch like your daughters?"
"Isaac!" Allison shot him a warning look.
Alaric shook his head. "I'm human. The twins' mother was the witch. And Hope isn't mine."
Allison nodded. "Hope said you used to be a Hunter."
"You hunted werewolves?" Isaac asked, curious.
Alaric kept his answers simple. "Among other things, yeah."
"And you stopped because...?" Allison prompted.
"My kids are supernatural," Alaric explained. "I also ran a school for young supernaturals. Things changed, and that's why we're here now. Hope trusts you, so I've been filled in. I heard you're looking for a yakuza boss."
"Yes," Argent said. "We need to find Katashi. Problem is, he's a paranoid recluse who never sees visitors."
"How do we get to him?" Isaac asked.
Argent moved to a display case and revealed an aged pistol inside. "He collects rare antique weapons. Yesterday, I spread the word that I'm willing to sell one."
He tapped the case. "French Flintlock Turnover Pistol from 1645."
"Impressive," Alaric remarked.
Allison crossed her arms. "You can't go alone."
"If she goes, I go," Isaac insisted.
"I don't think either of you should," Alaric said firmly.
Argent agreed. "I don't feel right dragging you two into this."
"They were staring right at Scott this morning," Isaac pointed out. "But that doesn't guarantee he's the one they're after," Alaric countered. "Hope said they're targeting all supernatural beings."
"That includes your daughters," Argent noted.
"And Hope, and Rafael," Allison added. "Which means we might only have until nightfall to protect everyone."
Argent took a steadying breath. "All right. Let's see if this paranoid yakuza boss wants to add another gun to his collection."