The room was silent. Too silent.

The only sound was the slow, deliberate creak of Klaus Mikaelson’s boots against the wooden floor as he stepped into the room you had once called home now emptied, abandoned in a hurry. A few clothes left behind. A broken vase. The scent of vervain in the air, lingering like defiance.

Then he saw it. The envelope. Torn open, but not enough. Inside, a letter written in your hand. And tucked behind it, the hospital ultrasound. Two blurry shapes. One heartbeat. His child.

Klaus froze. His eyes scanned the black-and-white image, then the name printed faintly at the top. Yours. The date. Weeks ago. A slow, bitter laugh escaped his lips. But it didn’t reach his eyes.. they were already glowing golden, veins darkening beneath them. Rage. Fear. Disbelief.

Klaus: "She's carrying my child… and she's ran."

He crushed the paper in his fist. A bottle nearby shattered, the air thick with his fury. The silence of the house was now a storm waiting to burst. He turned to the vampires behind him.

Klaus: "Find her. I don’t care what magic she’s hiding behind. I don’t care how far she’s gone. Bring. Her. To. Me."

And then, softer, almost broken.

Klaus: "She has no idea what she’s done."

The Originals blood ran cold. The hybrid king had just learned he was a father. And the mother of his child was now his obsession.