A long silence stretched between Aro and the one he had addressed—so long it was almost unbearable. Then, like a sudden shift in camera focus, the light in the chamber shifted, revealing a striking figure.
Seated calmly, bathed in a faint red glow, was a young girl with crimson hair, pale skin, and a flowing red dress. Her legs were elegantly crossed, arms folded across her chest. Her narrowed red eyes didn't even spare Aro a glance—instead, they fixed coldly on one of the shadowed figures seated in the balcony's center.
"Dracula," she said smoothly, her voice sweet as honey yet laced with steel, "you dare allow your fledgling to speak to me that way?"
Calling Aro a fledgling was a deep insult—especially to one of his age and power.
Aro's eyes sharpened at the remark, but he masked his displeasure with a thin smile, unwilling to show weakness in her presence.
Then, from the shadows, the figure she addressed stirred.
A great shadow took form in the center of the grand chamber, rising like a living wraith. It stretched tall and imposing.
A low, amused laugh echoed across the hall.
"Ah, Elisabeth," the shadow said with mock affection, "you haven't changed."
Though his body had not truly arrived—still slumbering in a resting place far from here—his presence was undeniable. Crimson light flared where his eyes should be, and his smile, sharp as broken glass, radiated menace.
Even in his sleep, he was watching.
"Aro's fear of the werewolves is… understandable," the shadow intoned, his voice rich with centuries of darkness. "They are beasts of chaos. untamed, wild. I've heard whispers, even from across the oceans, of an Alpha wreaking havoc in a place they call Beacon Hills."
The great shadow tilted its head, a cold smile in its voice.
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the gathered immortals with regal disdain, as though weighing their worth.
"But let us not be deceived," he said, his voice low and commanding. "This summit was not truly called to discuss rabid wolves."
The chamber fell into a heavy silence. Even the shadows seemed to still.
"There is a far greater threat," he continued, his tone darkening. "A being of immense power… one who seeks the Sun Pendant."
At those words, the ancient vampires stirred, their expressions shifting. Eyes once bored or hostile now gleamed with interest—and caution.
Aurora eyes narrowed, so the werewolves were merely a distraction—a convenient threat for the Volturi to rally around. But now, it seemed, something far more dangerous was at play.
Aurora's Hand, instinctively brush against the hidden necklace beneath her clothes. The Sun Pendant pulsed faintly, as if it, too, had heard its name.
From her seat, Elisabeth's voice rose—smooth, poised, and laced with curiosity.
"And who, pray tell, is this figure you speak of?" she asked, her crimson eyes gleaming.
The great shadow stirred, its form rippling with restrained fury.
"My informants speak of one who goes by the name Klaus, an abomination to the legacy of our late master," the voice growled, each word vibrating through the chamber.
"He is neither fully vampire nor fully werewolf, but a creature born of both. His strength surpasses that of many seated here," the shadow warned, its presence darkening.
"As you know, we Ancients cannot remain awake for long," it continued. "It will fall to all of you—to your covens and your vigilance—to keep your eyes open and your senses sharp. For if he is hunting the Sun Pendant… the balance we've held for centuries may soon crumble."
"Speaking of the pendant—where is it?" one of the Ancients finally asked, his voice like dry wind through stone. "Last I saw, our master had it."
A quieter voice, hidden deep in the shadows, responded,
"Indeed. It was hidden away… far from the light."
"Do not worry," Elisabeth said with a lazy yawn, resting her chin on her hand. "She gave it to me."
Gasps rippled through the hall, but Elisabeth rose to her feet with elegant boredom. "Now, if that is all, I'm growing quite tired. I'll be taking my leave."
"Wait!" Aro called sharply, stepping forward. Elisabeth's gaze drifted lazily toward him, her expression unreadable.
"What of the werewolves?" he asked, desperation behind the calm in his voice. "Will you aid us?"
She smiled, slow and sly. "I'll sleep on it," she said with a wink. And with that, she opened a portal of swirling darkness and stepped through, vanishing from the chamber.
One by one, the other Ancients followed—each slipping into shadows, fading as quickly as they had come. They could not remain in the waking world for long.
Only Dracula remained a moment longer, his shadow form flickering like dying candlelight.
"As for the wolves…" he murmured with a deep yawn. You handle it ...."
Then he, too, was gone.
Aurora's thoughts drifted back to the man who once hunted the Sun Pendant. Why? Why would he seek my necklace? The ancient vampire had spoken the name Klaus, but what could someone like him truly want with it?
The summit slowly drew to a close. Many covens hesitated, unsure whether to move against the werewolves. None dared take the first step—not without the support of the Valentines. Without their strength beside them, the others grew uneasy and chose instead to wait… for the eclipse.
And so, one by one, they departed—leaving behind only the weight of Dracula's final words echoing in their hearts:
Klaus, an abomination.
Back in the snowy reaches of North America, the ice that had entombed Elijah began to fracture. With a slow, deliberate motion, he spread his arms, shattering the frozen prison around him. Shards fell from his chest as he exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing with calculated awareness.
"Unfortunate," he murmured to himself, brushing off the remnants of frost. Now he knew what he was dealing with.
The scent of humans drifted to him on the wind—tempting, but not yet a priority.
Reaching into the inner pocket of his coat, Elijah retrieved his phone—miraculously still functional. With practiced fingers, he typed a message to his dear brother.