The envoys attacked all at once.
Not with rage.
Not even aggression.
Purpose.
Dozens of faceless beings surged through Saint Louis Cemetery as reality fractured around their movements. Shadows bent unnaturally beneath them while tombstones collapsed into black dust wherever they passed.
The air screamed.
Actual screams echoed through the cemetery as dimensional fractures spread wider across the sky overhead.
And at the center of it all—
Drake stood frozen between two identities.
Human.
Or Wanderer.
Klaus moved first.
Naturally.
The Original hybrid blurred forward with monstrous speed before driving his fist directly through the nearest envoy's chest hard enough to shatter the crypt behind it.
Except—
The creature didn't bleed.
Didn't die.
Its body distorted around Klaus' arm like liquid darkness before reforming instantly.
The envoy tilted its faceless head.
"Primitive violence."
Klaus looked deeply offended.
"No one has ever called my violence primitive."
Then the creature slammed him through three mausoleums.
Stone exploded outward violently.
Rebekah barked out a laugh despite herself.
"Oh, that's going to make him unbearable."
Klaus emerged from the rubble immediately afterward with blood on his face and a grin stretching ear to ear.
"I like them."
"You would," Elijah muttered.
The older Mikaelson moved next.
Far calmer.
Far deadlier.
He caught another envoy by the throat before tearing it apart with brutal precision.
Black mist erupted outward—
Then instantly reformed the creature several feet away.
Elijah's expression tightened slightly.
"Physical destruction is ineffective."
"Wonderful," Klaus called while ripping another envoy in half.
"I was hoping for emotionally immortal nightmares."
The envoys ignored the Mikaelsons almost entirely.
Their focus remained fixed on Drake.
Always Drake.
The fracture in the sky widened further overhead.
The massive eye beyond it never blinked now.
Never looked away.
Waiting.
Calling.
Return.
Drake's head pounded violently.
Ancient instincts clawed upward inside him harder with every passing second.
Open the Gates.
Break the seals.
End the exile.
The thoughts weren't his.
But part of him understood them anyway.
And that terrified him more than anything else.
Because somewhere beneath the humanity he'd built—
The Wanderer remembered.
Ciri noticed immediately.
She stepped directly in front of him.
Forcing his focus onto her.
"Stay with me."
Simple words.
Absolute command.
Drake focused on her instantly.
White hair moving in the cemetery wind.
Sharp green eyes.
The scar beneath her cheek.
Human details.
Real details.
Anchor points.
The cosmic pressure surrounding him stabilized slightly.
Good.
Because otherwise New Orleans might already be collapsing completely.
Morrigan fought beside them now.
Silver-black magic exploded from her hands in ancient runic patterns that actually damaged the envoys permanently. Wherever her spells struck, pieces of shadow peeled away screaming.
"Their forms are unstable!" she shouted.
"Attack the core shadows!"
Klaus immediately adapted.
Naturally.
He seized one envoy violently before black fire erupted from his hands directly into the darkness inside its chest.
This time—
The creature screamed.
Actually screamed.
Its body destabilized violently before collapsing into black ash.
Klaus' grin widened dangerously.
"Oh," he purred.
"There we are."
Rebekah rolled her eyes.
"He's enjoying this far too much."
"Combat therapy," Elijah answered while decapitating another envoy.
"Disturbingly effective."
Meanwhile Drake barely noticed the fighting anymore.
Because memories continued flooding back relentlessly.
The Gates.
The war.
The endless dark between realities.
And himself—
Not merely fighting the Forgotten.
Leading them once.
His breathing became uneven.
Ciri grabbed his face firmly with both hands.
"Drake."
His eyes met hers again.
Focused.
Human.
"You are not them," she said quietly.
The statement hit harder than any cosmic revelation.
Because part of Drake genuinely feared she might be wrong.
The eye beyond the fracture pulsed violently again.
And this time—
Something started emerging.
Not fully.
Just a hand.
Massive fingers formed from darkness and collapsing stars slowly pressed against the crack in reality itself.
The entire city shook instantly.
Buildings trembled across New Orleans.
Windows exploded throughout the French Quarter.
Humans screamed in distant streets while supernatural creatures fled in blind terror.
Even Klaus looked unsettled now.
"…That seems significantly worse."
"We cannot allow manifestation," Morrigan snapped immediately.
"No kidding."
The massive hand pushed harder against reality.
The fracture widened another inch.
And for one terrible moment—
Drake remembered that hand reaching through dying universes before.
Destroying realities casually.
Ending civilizations without noticing them.
Fear hit him instantly.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for everyone else.
Ciri noticed his expression shift.
"What is it?"
Drake stared upward silently.
Then answered honestly.
"If that thing gets through…"
He swallowed once.
"…this world dies."
Silence crushed the cemetery.
Even Klaus stopped joking.
The envoys suddenly bowed lower again.
Not toward the creature above.
Toward Drake.
The nearest envoy spoke softly.
"You can end the exile."
Drake's expression darkened immediately.
"No."
"The Forgotten remember their king."
The words slammed into the cemetery like a bomb.
Everything stopped.
Klaus blinked once.
"…Their what?"
Ciri's eyes widened slightly.
Morrigan looked furious instantly.
"You do not get to call him that."
But the envoys continued speaking together now.
Layered voices echoing unnaturally through the graveyard.
"The First Wanderer."
"The Opener."
"The King Beyond Gates."
Each title triggered more memory fragments violently inside Drake's mind.
He saw himself standing atop impossible black structures while countless entities knelt before him.
Saw realities opening at his command.
Saw stars dying beneath endless war.
And finally—
Saw himself sealing the Forgotten away.
Not because he hated them.
Because he feared what they were becoming.
And feared what he was becoming with them.
Drake staggered backward.
The pressure around him exploded outward violently.
Crypts shattered apart.
Space fractured in jagged spirals around his body.
The envoys bowed deeper instantly.
Recognition.
Submission.
The sky itself darkened further above New Orleans.
Morrigan stepped forward immediately.
"Drake."
Warning filled her voice now.
Because she saw it happening.
The ancient self buried inside him rising faster.
Drake looked upward toward the massive hand pressing through reality.
Then slowly—
Very slowly—
He stepped forward.
Ciri caught his arm instantly.
"What are you doing?"
His voice came out quiet.
Terribly calm.
"I remember how to close it."
Morrigan's eyes widened immediately.
"That could awaken the rest of your power."
"I know."
"That is an unbelievably terrible plan," Klaus called while snapping an envoy's neck out of habit.
"Agreed," Drake answered calmly.
Then crimson-black energy exploded around him fully.
Not restrained anymore.
Not hidden.
The cemetery vanished beneath overwhelming pressure as reality itself bent violently outward from Drake's body.
The envoys stopped moving instantly.
Every single one bowed completely.
Not choice.
Instinct.
The eye beyond the fracture widened in recognition.
And Drake—
Drake finally stopped running from what he was.
Ancient symbols ignited across the sky around him while black fractures spiraled outward like wings formed from broken space itself.
His voice echoed unnaturally through the cemetery.
Not louder.
Older.
Power rolled through every word.
"I sealed the Gates once."
The massive hand beyond reality stopped moving.
The Forgotten listened.
And for the first time since arriving in New Orleans—
Drake sounded exactly like the being they remembered.
The First Wanderer had awakened.