The crater was nearly half a mile wide.
Cars flipped.
Trees vanished.
Every gravestone in the cemetery shattered instantly.
And in the center of the destruction—
Morana stared upward in shock.
Not injured.
Terrified.
Drake slowly descended into the crater.
Calm.
Untouched.
The undead surrounding the cemetery suddenly stopped moving.
Because their controller was afraid.
That terrified them too.
Morana stood shakily.
Blue fire exploded around her.
Thousands of wraiths screamed across the sky simultaneously.
"YOU CANNOT KILL DEATH!"
Drake tilted his head slightly.
"…Good thing I'm not trying to."
Then he released his full power.
Beacon Hills went silent.
Not quiet.
Silent.
Every sound vanished instantly.
No wind.
No insects.
No breathing.
Reality itself seemed to pause.
Scott fell to his knees miles away.
Derek looked horrified.
Peter whispered one word.
"…God."
Crimson energy erupted from Drake like an apocalypse.
The sky cracked.
Actually cracked.
Black fractures spread across the clouds like broken glass.
Morana finally understood.
Drake wasn't a monster.
He was something worse.
Something cosmic.
Something ancient enough that even Death had marked him.
Drake stepped closer.
And for the first time since arriving in Beacon Hills—
His voice lost all humanity.
"You threaten my pack."
Morana trembled.
Big mistake.
Drake raised one hand.
Every undead creature in Beacon Hills instantly disintegrated into ash.
Thousands gone in less than a second.
No effort.
No spell.
Just raw overwhelming authority.
Morana stared in horror.
"That power shouldn't exist…"
Drake's crimson eyes narrowed.
"Neither should you."
Then he punched her once.
That single hit tore a hole through the night sky.
Morana vanished into it screaming.
The portal sealed instantly afterward.
Gone.
Completely gone.
Silence returned to Beacon Hills.
Drake stood alone in the ruined cemetery.
Then Scott's shaky voice echoed from behind him.
"…Dude."
Drake glanced back.
Scott stared like he'd just witnessed the end of the world.
Which honestly?
Fair.
"…You punched a god through reality."
Drake considered that carefully.
"…When you say it out loud it does sound excessive."
Derek looked emotionally exhausted.
"EXCESSIVE?!"
Beacon Hills spent the next week pretending nothing happened.
Again.
Which honestly should have impressed Drake more than it did.
The cemetery looked like a meteor strike.
Half the town lost power during the fight.
Three different conspiracy theories blamed aliens.
And somehow the local newspaper still titled the article:
UNUSUAL WEATHER DAMAGES HISTORIC GRAVESITE.
Stiles framed the headline.
Meanwhile Drake had a different problem.
He was getting stronger.
Again.
At first it seemed minor.
His hearing expanded another several miles.
His senses sharpened.
His control slipped occasionally.
Then bigger things started happening.
Like gravity bending slightly whenever he got irritated.
Or electronics shutting down whenever his eyes glowed too brightly.
Or the fact that the preserve itself now reacted emotionally to him.
Trees literally moved out of his way.
Scott found that deeply unsettling.
"I don't think forests are supposed to respect people."
"They usually don't," Ciri answered calmly.
"That somehow made it worse."
Drake stood in the backyard staring at his own hand.
Crimson energy flickered faintly across his fingers like living fire.
Unstable.
Ancient.
Hungry.
Derek watched from the porch silently.
"You're evolving."
Drake looked annoyed.
"I noticed."
"That amount of power shouldn't keep growing."
"Also noticed."
Peter appeared beside Derek holding coffee.
"On the bright side, if he explodes, Beacon Hills stops being our problem."
Noah pointed from inside the house.
"Peter, out."
"Rude."
Suddenly every light in the neighborhood died.
The air temperature dropped instantly.
Scott froze mid-sentence.
Lydia's banshee instincts screamed.
Even Ciri stood immediately.
Something had arrived.
No.
Someone.
The shadows in the yard stretched unnaturally.
Dark mist rolled across the grass.
Then a woman stepped from the darkness itself.
Tall.
Elegant.
A black gown woven from moving shadows.
Skin pale as moonlight.
Endless silver eyes.
And behind her—
Silence.
Not magical silence.
True silence.
The kind found in empty graves and dying stars.
Every supernatural being instinctively lowered their eyes.
Except Drake.
The woman looked directly at him.
Then smiled softly.
"My wolf."
Drake immediately looked offended.
"I told you to stop calling me that."
Lady Death laughed quietly.
The sound somehow echoed through reality itself.
Scott looked between them blankly.
"…Why is Death hot?"
Noah smacked the back of his head instantly.
Nobody knew how to react to Death visiting for dinner.
Especially not Noah.
The sheriff stood frozen in his kitchen while an ancient cosmic entity calmly drank tea beside Ciri.
"…This is my life now," Noah whispered.
"Yes," Peter answered cheerfully.
"I hate this town."
Lady Death sat gracefully at the table observing everyone with endless amusement.
Unlike Morana—
Death felt calm.
Peaceful.
Terrifying in a completely different way.
Like the universe itself had accepted she would eventually win.
Scott still looked overwhelmed.
"So you're actually Death?"
"Yes."
"The Death?"
"There are others. But I am one of the oldest."
Stiles slowly raised his hand.
"I have several concerning questions."
"I know."
"…That somehow answered none of them."
Death's silver eyes shifted toward Drake.
And softened instantly.
Everyone noticed.
Derek looked disturbed.
Peter looked fascinated.
Ciri looked deeply unsurprised.
Allison narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"…Why are you looking at him like that?"
Death tilted her head slightly.
"He is precious to me."
The room fell silent.
Scott choked on his drink.
Stiles pointed violently.
"I KNEW THERE WAS WEIRD TENSION."
Drake covered his face with one hand.
"Please stop encouraging them."
Death smiled wider.
"No."
Ciri sipped her tea peacefully.
"This is still less awkward than the djinn incident."
"WE HAD A DJINN INCIDENT?" Stiles yelled.
Noah looked exhausted beyond human comprehension.
Meanwhile Lydia quietly studied Death carefully.
Unlike everyone else—
Lydia heard things.
Whispers.
Souls.
Echoes of endings.
And around Death?
Lydia heard eternity.
Then Death looked toward her gently.
"You hear the veil."
Lydia stiffened.
"…Yes."
"A beautiful burden."
The banshee looked genuinely startled by the kindness in her voice.
Drake noticed immediately.
Death always treated damaged souls gently.
Probably because she collected enough of them.
Suddenly Death's expression shifted slightly.
The atmosphere changed.
Drake noticed instantly.
"What is it?"
Death looked toward the preserve.
Something ancient stirred beneath Beacon Hills.
Something sleeping.
Something powerful enough that even Death acknowledged it.
Then she spoke quietly.
"The Nemeton is waking."
Silence crashed into the room.
Even Derek looked uneasy.
"…That's bad."
Death's silver eyes remained fixed on the forest.
"No."
For the first time—
She sounded concerned.
"It is catastrophic."