In 2012, the world ended.
Although not in the way the Mayans or doomsday movies would have predicted.
The world didn't end in dramatic catastrophe, a crumbling of the earth or an asteroid from space. No, the world ended when a seemingly innocuous blonde strode her way onto a live news broadcast.
"Good afternoon," Caroline said gently, expecting the abrupt jolts from the humans despite her mild tone.
The two news anchors swung their heads to stare at her as did the filming crew and staff. The room was still for a long moment before erupting into a flurry of motion.
Someone sent word to edit out a few seconds of film, hoping the slight delay, even in live broadcasting, would cover it. The two suited anchors, a man and a woman, reoriented themselves to the camera, trying to press on as if nothing odd had happened. All the while several others scrambled toward her as a call to security went out, trying to usher her off set.
Caroline smiled at their attempts, pushing them out of the way with the bare minimum of force and striding forward with ease.
Nearing the stage, she could see the broadcasters eyeing her from the corner of their eyes, trying not to look distracted on camera. They were doing a decent job of it, but she would disrupt their efforts all the same.
Vanishing and reappearing behind the two, she pressed a firm hand to each of their shoulders, stopping them from leaping up.
"I am Azrael, an Angel of the Creator. Please, call me Caroline."
They didn't believe her at first, of course. Even with the minor show of supernatural power. They cut the broadcast, transitioning as best they could to some pre-filmed stock, and tripling their efforts to get her out.
Stop
Caroline intoned, her voice reverberating with an odd mix of apparent English and Enochian.
Everyone froze, locked in place by the power of her command. She sighed knowing this would be a struggle. With a casual wave of her hand, she conjured seats for everyone and in the same motion maneuvered every person into one.
Before letting her command fade she stepped away from the two humans she had set her hands on, sensing their spiking terror. Fear wasn't what she had come for, though she realized some was inevitable.
Another still moment passed, before a weight seemed to dissipate from the room and everyone took a breath. Several tried to lunge from their seats, but found themselves stuck to the cushions, though every other part of them could move fine. Soon a majority were shouting, their voices rising in an unintelligible clamor.
With another sigh, Caroline raised her hand, regretful as several flinched back into silence, but capitalizing on the dimmed voices all the same.
"Be not afraid, I will not harm you."
It was the brunette anchor that spoke up despite the roiling fear Caroline could still feel emanating from her.
"How can you tell us that? How can we believe you when we're at your mercy like this?!"
Caroline turned her focus to the brunette, keeping her expression as friendly as possible. Pointedly, she shifted her gaze lower, settling on the glint of a necklace chain peeking out from the blouse collar. Raising her gaze to meet the woman's eyes once more, Caroline spoke.
"But you do believe, Susan."
The woman gasped, reflexively raising a hand to grasp the cross Caroline had eyed. Her lips parted, but no words escaped her.
Shifting in front of her, the woman's fellow castor interjected.
"Hey! I don't know what kind of bullshit you're trying to pull here, but-
The man cut off as her eyes fell on him, the strength of her regard far fiercer than he was expecting.
Caroline incline her head, acknowledging the man's sentiment.
"Peace, Brendan. Your defense is admirable, but unnecessary. I will not harm any of you."
Finding his voice, he spluttered. "You already said that! But you can't honestly expect us to believe you're an angel?"
She shook her head, blonde curls shifting with the motion. No, she had not expected them to simply believe her. "Not in an instant, no. So, tell me what proof you would ask of me."
One of the formerly silent onlookers piped up, "What you can't simply read that from our minds?"
"I could, Joshua." Caroline continued, ignoring the uneasy shifting. "But it gives you comfort to voice your doubts."
"Your wings." Susan peered up at her, hand still clutching her silver cross, voice soft, but surprisingly firm.
"Their entirety would sear away mortal eyes. However…" Caroline let the word hover as she shifted the veil on her true form, a tiny fractional adjustment. Just enough that the shadows of immense wings could be seen spreading out from behind her.
It had taken hours to truly convince everyone and weeks to advance the plans Caroline had descended with. The slight oddity from that afternoon's news was quickly forgotten until two months later.
Around the world, every mainline news station cut to an image of her face. With a flex of power every other broadcast was hijacked, until over a billion television sets displayed her visage.
"Greetings," she spoke, her voice universally understood, "I am Azrael, an Angel of the Creator."
A barrage of interviews followed as billions clamored over the truth of her existence. The world shifted as people warred with their faith. Did they believe her? Were they skeptical? Fearful? Angry? Zealots strengthened and weakened in turn and religious institutions saw a flood of new supplicants even as several of those institutions verged on implosion.
But if the regular humans were in turmoil, then the supernatural world was even more so. Many, well-familiar with power plays and feats of magic, were the most skeptical of the so-called angel. And wary. Would she out them to the world? Spearhead a purge of apparent abominations?
"You must admit, the sheer gall is almost impressive, brother."
Klaus scowled as he peered out the window, mind whirling with plans, running through all the steps he had already taken.
"Enough, Kol," Elijah admonished, "take this seriously."
Kol threw his arms wide, pivoting as he turned to face his brothers. "What, you don't think I am? Do you think I'm so ignorant as to not realize the potential threat of this woman?"
Rebekah interjected before her brothers could really get into it, arms crossed as she peered at Klaus.
"So what's the plan, Nik?"
He shifted, his eyes sweeping over the tense forms of each of his siblings. Even the newly awoken Finn and rediscovered Freya looked grim.
"As much as I dislike it, surveillance and possible negotiation, for now."
"And if that fails?"
His eyes glinted gold.
"War, sister."
"Niklaus Anselson."
Klaus tensed at the sudden address, expecting neither the name nor the way the syllables rolled together, an echo of his mother tongue.
Pivoting, Klaus displayed none of his wariness even as his eyes took in the blonde "angel."
"I prefer Klaus, love."
The woman capitulated without a fight, demeanor portraying nothing but geniality.
"Klaus, then."
Crossing his arms behind his back, he readied the anchor for a prison world, even as he continued their exchange.
"I must admit, I'm rather curious as to why you're here. Surely the humans endlessly request your attention?"
Her face softened as she smiled, appearing surprisingly genuine to his keen senses. "They are a rather eager bunch, yes. But to answer your question, I am here to assure you."
His eyebrow rose even as his ears caught the rapid approach of his siblings. "Pardon?"
A little smirk curled across her lips, a stark contrast to all the other expressions she had worn. "Oh, I'm quite aware you don't want a pardon." The joke garnered no reaction, though he doubted she expected one as she continued on without pause. "You will not win a war with me, and I do not wish to fight one with you."
He narrowed his eyes, it was only just earlier today that he verbalized his plan for war.
"Then, what is it that you do want?"
Instead of answering, the blonde stepped closer before suddenly turning, eyes landing on each of the places his siblings hid.
"Mikaeldóttir." She gave a small nod in the direction of Freya. "Mikaelson." She said as she continued to Finn then Elijah then Kol before shifting to regard Rebekah. "Mikaeldóttir."
Perhaps it was rash, but the ease with which the blonde detected his siblings alarmed him. Not to mention her knowledge of their history, to call him Anselson of all things. With her attention removed from him, Klaus took the opportunity to hurl the anchor at her feet.
With a sharp crack the orb shattered open, its power whipping through the room and ripping a tear in reality. Energy sparked and discharged in bolts before the tear expanded to consume her form. Her face showed neither surprise nor resistant, and for a heartbeat he worried it would fail.
It didn't.
With far less fanfare then its forming, the rip sealed shut around her.
His siblings cautiously padded into the room, each of them eyeing the spot where the woman had been standing. Both she and the orb gone, banished to separate dimensions.
"That was anticlimactic," Kol uttered.
"Well, I told you I did not wish to fight."
All of them tensed and whirled to eye where the blonde now casually leaned against the wall behind Klaus, tossing the orb in her hand.
Their eyes flickered to the orb and back to her face, each sensing it was still be-spelled.
Tracking their gazes the fuck-maybe-she-is-an-angel smiled, and with a twist of her wrist warped the anchor from existence.
"Now, maybe we could chat like civilized beings?"