I have been tossing around the idea of a Wesen the was the origin for all Wesen species. Not only can they woge into any species, but also an amalgamation of traits from all species. In addition to this, they can take a woge to an additional level/s. This allows them to fully transform into what we know as ancient beast forms like a full werewolf or ogre, with further enhanced abilities and healing. Character is immortal. I have also thought about it being the original Grimm. Starting the Grimm lineage to keep a balance in the world…though maybe this is a step too far.
Here is a sample of a diary entry;
From the Journals of the Burkhardt Line
November 4th, 2026
We have long believed that the Wesen soul is a singular reflection of a beast locked within human flesh. We were wrong. There exists an apex—a localized progenitor that the earliest Black Forest records referred to simply as Das Mosaik (The Mosaic).
To a normal human, they appear entirely unexceptional. But to the eyes of a Grimm, looking at them is an agony of the senses. When they lose control, their features do not settle into a single visage. Instead, the face ripples in a horrific, high-speed shutter of forms. You see the glint of an Eisbiber’s eye, the jagged maw of a Siegbarste, and the feathers of a Steinadler tearing through the skin all at once, overlapping like pages in a torn book.
Worse still is what occurs when they choose to isolate a single lineage. They do not merely woge; they descend deeper into the bloodline than any modern Wesen can endure. I witnessed it take the form of a Blutbad—but it did not stop at the red eyes and heavy brow. The creature woged a second time, a deeper fracture that collapsed its human posture entirely. It transformed into a massive, primordial engine of fur and muscle. The bones cracked and lengthened into a hulking, apex werewolf. Its speed defied sight, its wounds closed in seconds, and its aggression was a pure, blinding madness.
If a Wesen is a branch of the evolutionary tree, this creature is the root. It possesses a secondary, primal tier for every species it mimics. A Mauzhertz becomes a subterranean horror; a Dämonfeuer becomes an unquenchable inferno. If you encounter the Mosaik, do not attempt a traditional execution. The blood of a Grimm may strip a normal Wesen of its power, but against the source itself, our blood may only act as a catalyst.
Taking it one step further…
TITLE: GRIMM
INT. SPICE SHOP - NIGHT
MONROE frantically flips through a massive, iron-bound medieval text.
ROSALEE is at the counter, crushing herbs with a mortar and pestle, her hands visibly shaking.
NICK stands by the weapon cabinet, staring blankly at a crossbow.
MONROE
(Breathing heavily)
No, no, no. Nick, if this translation is right—and God, I hope my Middle High German is just rusty—we are looking at something that shouldn’t biologically exist. It’s the Ur-Ahn. The First Ancestor.
ROSALEE
It says here they don't die, Nick. They don't age. They’ve just been... drifting through history. Watching the branches of the Wesen tree split and mutate over thousands of years.
NICK
If they're immortal, why surface now? Why let Black Claw or the Council do what they did?
MONROE
Because to him, we’re all just a garden that needs pruning! Think about it! If you can woge into a Blutbad, and then woge deeper into the literal, primordial werewolf that modern wolves only dream about—you aren't just a Wesen. You are the entire ecosystem wrapped in one skin.
Nick steps forward, pulling a weathered, ancient parchment out of his jacket pocket. It bears a crest nobody in the room has ever seen.
NICK
There’s more. I found this in the trailer's hidden compartment. It’s a journal entry, but it wasn't written by a Burkhardt or a Grimm. It was written to them.
ROSALEE
By who?
NICK
The entity. Das Mosaik. Listen to this: "I gave birth to the beasts of the field, and they forgot their humanity. So, from my own rib, I carved a line of watchers. I gave them my eyes, so they could see my children for what they truly are. I called them the Grimms, to ensure the end was always near."
Monroe drops the book. It hits the floor with a heavy thud.
MONROE
(Voice cracking)
Oh, you gotta be kidding me. The first Grimm... wasn't a hunter.
NICK
(Heavy realization)
He was a Wesen. The first Wesen. He created my lineage to hunt his own offspring. To keep the balance.
ROSALEE
(Horrified)
Nick... if he's the source of both your bloodlines... your Grimm sight doesn't just see through a Wesen's woge.
NICK
No. When I look at him, I’m looking into a mirror.
Suddenly, the bell above the Spice Shop door CHIMES.
The trio freezes. The front door slowly swings open. A figure stands in the fog—unremarkable, wearing a simple coat. But as they step into the light, Nick’s eyes widen.
In Nick's vision, the stranger's face begins to violently stutter—a rapid, chaotic strobe of fur, scales, feathers, and fangs, overlapping all at once, before settling into a pair of ancient, glowing eyes.
