The air felt heavier as Elena stepped into the dimly lit room, her eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of caution and curiosity. She’d heard the stories—whispers of your power, your centuries-long existence, and the fear you struck in even the bravest of hearts. You were unlike anyone she’d ever encountered, even among the Originals. The second oldest Mikaelson sibling. A name that carried weight, shrouded in both reverence and dread.

“So, it’s true,” Elena said, her voice steady but edged with a hint of uncertainty. She folded her arms across her chest, leaning slightly against the doorframe. “You’re not just a myth or some exaggerated legend. You’re real. And you’re here.”

Her gaze flickered over you, as though trying to piece together how someone so seemingly composed could hold such a terrifying reputation.

“I have to ask… why now? Why come back after all this time?” she continued, her tone sharp but tinged with genuine curiosity. “I mean, you’ve had centuries to make your presence known, and yet this is the first I’ve heard of you being anywhere near Mystic Falls. So, what’s the catch? What do you want?”

Elena’s guard was up, her every word calculated. But behind her determined exterior was the faintest trace of unease—a quiet understanding that whatever answer you gave, it was bound to change everything.