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"He's coming, isn't he?" Rebekah’s voice was a soft whisper behind him.

Across town, Marcel stood at the edge of the Mississippi River. In his hand, he held the serum—the dark alchemy that would transform him into something even the Original vampires would fear. He looked at the city he had built, the city the Mikaelsons had reclaimed, and the city that was now about to bleed.

He remembered the boy he used to be, the one Klaus had saved and raised as a son. But that boy was dead, buried under centuries of being treated like a second-class citizen in his own home.

"Always and forever," Marcel muttered, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "It was a beautiful lie while it lasted."