Gabriel watched as Adrien closed the door behind him, though he did not immediately rise from his chair to lock the door. Adrien would not return uninvited, and Nathalie and the rest of his staff knew never to come in without his leave. Even if someone was fool enough to try, he would have enough warning. He had made sure of that long ago.

Adrien's footsteps receded, but Gabriel did not relax. He disliked that it had come to this, but he was going to make the best of it. He had to. For Adrien. For himself. And, most importantly, for her.

"This is wrong, Master."

Nooroo had not spoken against him like this since their early days together. "He agreed," Gabriel pointed out, keeping a firm grip on his anger for now. One move had gone in his favour, but the game was far from over. He did not yet hold the prize.

Nooroo emerged from his hiding spot, one of the cubbyholes within Gabriel's desk. He did not meet Gabriel's gaze, but he still tried to argue. "I don't think he realized—"

"He agreed," Gabriel repeated firmly as he rose to his feet. He secured the door and turned back to his kwami. "Agreement is all that is required. Dark wings rise, Nooroo." Nooroo had had enough time to feed and regain his energy, and he made no effort to fight the transformation. Gabriel closed his eyes as the magic washed over him, swirls of purple and silver, so different from the time long before….

It did not matter. He didn't intend to hold this transformation for long; he detested transforming here, even if it was one of the safest places to do so within his home. It was merely good fortune that he knew from past experience that he did not need to retain his transformation in order to maintain Nooroo's transformative power over others. Such a gem of knowledge had not been revealed by Nooroo, nor had it been detailed in the pages of the ancient tome he had managed to decipher so far. Those pages had told him much—the terrible reward of wielding both the Ring of the Black Cat and the Earrings of the Ladybug was made clear in explicit detail—but he required continued study of the book to discover all its secrets.

Nooroo's explanations were useful, but aside from warnings, he had become reluctant to volunteer information. He would answer Gabriel's questions truthfully, but he rarely said more than strictly necessary. Gabriel did not dare awaken the Peacock Miraculous—not now, not yet—but there were times he wished he could command another kwami.

He soon would, if all went well.

A white butterfly landed on the windowsill, drawn here by the sudden release of Nooroo's magic. Gabriel strode to the window and let it in, and within seconds it had settled silently on the palm of his left hand. He whispered to it the details of his contract with Adrien as Nooroo's magic seeped over it, ensuring it would touch no soul but his son's and that it would seek him until contact was made.

"Go," Gabriel ordered, and the butterfly flitted out the window.

It would not be long now.


"Why the claws?" Adrien asked Plagg once they were safely in his room. He sat at his computer desk—once he got the answer out of Plagg, he intended to check the Ladyblog for sightings of Ladybug—and Plagg hovered at eye level a few feet away. Even now, he looked uneasy. His tail kept twitching.

"So you didn't say anything you shouldn't," Plagg retorted. "Didn't seem to help."

"I meant the second time," Adrien chided. "Father is worried, but that doesn't mean he will find out about you."

Another tail twitch, and this time his antennae quivered, too. "There was something…wrong about that question."

Adrien frowned. "Plagg, I know you aren't happy with how Father—"

"It's not that." Plagg zipped closer, nearly to Adrien's nose, and Adrien found he needed to look cross-eyed to see Plagg at all. "You didn't feel anything?"

"Feel what?"

Plagg drifted back and gave an approximation of a shrug. "Wrongness," he said, very unhelpfully in typical Plagg fashion.

"About Father's interest in my life?" Adrien didn't bother to keep the skepticism out of his voice. "Plagg, you know something changed after we fought Jackady. That was the first time Father had hugged me in a long time. I think he realized that we were both missing something. This is a good change. It isn't wrong."

"It's not the interest that was wrong," Plagg protested. "It was the question. And that feeling that came with it."

"Father's just concerned! He knows missing appointments isn't like me."

"It is now," Plagg muttered. Adrien knew Nathalie had reported that he had gotten caught up in an attack before, whenever he happened to be conveniently close to a villain, but that excuse didn't hold for times like now—and Plagg knew that as well as he did. Louder, the kwami said, "Even if he's concerned, it just rubbed me the wrong way. I don't know why. Something's off, not like it should be, and it was just…."

"Wrong," Adrien supplied.

"Wrong," Plagg agreed. "Now, are you going to get me more camembert? I still haven't gotten the cookie taste out of my mouth."

The sudden change in topic took Adrien by surprise, but he supposed it shouldn't. This was Plagg, after all. "Marinette's cookies are delicious," he pointed out, "and so are her father's. Whichever those were, I doubt you need to get the taste out of your mouth."

"It doesn't compare to camembert."

"No, that stinky cheese doesn't come close to the heavenly sweetness of fresh baking." Plagg stuck out his tongue at Adrien, and Adrien snickered but dutifully set some more cheese out on his desk for Plagg. As Plagg descended to devour it, Adrien pulled up the Ladyblog. "Do you think she'll forgive me?"

Plagg swallowed the last of the cheese and looked up at the computer screen. "Ladybug?"

"Marinette."

"Same person."

"I know. But Marinette's the one beneath Ladybug's mask. Ladybug might keep working with me so we can defeat Hawk Moth, but Marinette's the one I betrayed."

"That wasn't true treachery. She knows that by now, and Tikki will talk to her if she doesn't." Plagg turned his attention to hunting for nonexistent crumbs of cheese. "Tikki's good at convincing people."

"So you think she'll forgive me? With time?"

"How should I know?"

Adrien sighed. The Pharaoh incident had told him Ladybug had been around for a long time, meaning Tikki had been around for a long time, and he had no reason to think that Plagg was any different. He was sure all magic like this was meant to be ancient, anyway. It always was in stories. But if Plagg had gained any wisdom in all his years, he was rarely inclined to share it unless it suited his direct interests.

Mostly because, unless it suited his direct interests, he didn't pay much attention to anything.

A quick scan of the Ladyblog revealed no verified sightings of Ladybug in the last half hour, though that might be because discussion about a shapeshifter was still rife. "Well, then how do you think I should apologize to her? I haven't done that yet, not really. Should I go as myself and tell her who I am then? Or just go as Chat Noir and then—" Adrien broke off as he saw Plagg suddenly stiffen, hackles rising. "What is it?"

"Wrongness," Plagg hissed as he darted back into the air. "Can't you feel that?"

All Adrien felt was confusion, but Plagg's ears had flattened and his antennae trembled. Though he stayed close to Adrien, his eyes started searching the room, and Adrien looked around as well. He had no idea what he was looking for, of course. Whatever Plagg could feel—whether it was some sort of sixth sense, something magic-related, or just a bad reaction to the sweets earlier—was lost on him, but Adrien didn't doubt the kwami. Not when it came to something like this.

"Adrien." The tip of Plagg's tail flicked. "Run."

"Run?" Adrien repeated dumbly, not moving from the computer chair. "Why? What is it?" He followed Plagg's gaze and finally saw it: an akuma fluttering against his bedroom windows, looking for a way inside. As it moved toward to the bathroom, Adrien jumped to his feet and ran to make sure the window was closed. It was, but the akuma was already working its way through the crack. Adrien backed away on instinct, bumping into Plagg who had followed him into the room. "It's coming for me?" His voice cracked in spite of himself. "But I'm not... I wasn't…."

"We have to stay separate," Plagg said, not taking his eyes from the struggling akuma. "As either Adrien or Chat Noir, you're susceptible to the akuma's magic, but if I'm with your Miraculous, you've already given Hawk Moth what he wants. Run. Find Ladybug. Marinette. Tell her what's going on. I'll try to slow it down."

Slow it down. Not stop it. Because it couldn't be stopped, not without it being recalled or Ladybug cleansing it of evil.

The akuma pulled itself fully into the room, Plagg pounced, and Adrien fled.


Once she'd dropped Henri onto a sidewalk, Marinette searched for a police officer to warn about the gaping hole she and Chat Noir had left in the ground. Lucky Charm wasn't much use outside an akuma attack, or at least not when it came to filling in a steep drop into the catacombs. Frankly, she was lucky the first officer she found (not Lieutenant Roger but probably someone she had had to fight at some point anyway) was too concerned about surveying the damage to question her before looking away.

And she only needed a moment to disappear, a moment to latch her yo-yo onto something and pull herself up to the rooftops, sprinting and swinging away.

Even if she couldn't run away from her feelings as easily as she could from the damage.

Marinette wasn't sure if the twisting feeling of guilt in her gut was because of the problem she'd effectively dumped in the poor policewoman's lap or because of how short she'd been with Chat Noir earlier.

He was her partner. He'd only been trying to help. He just hadn't thought about the position he'd put her in, now that Hawk Moth would know her identity.

Maybe she was just thinking the worst. Maybe Hawk Moth didn't even know who she was. The chances of him following Jagged Stone's career closely enough to know her from her album cover design were slim (somehow, she doubted she and Chat Noir were fighting someone close to their own age), and how likely was he to frequent the Dupain-Cheng bakery, of all the ones in the city, or follow fashion closely enough to know of her winning design? She might just be a nameless girl to him, one of Paris's many teenagers.

She would just have to be extra careful, that's all, and watch for any sign that he had figured out who she was, that he had found her and her family and was willing to use them to manipulate her.

For all she knew, Chat Noir hadn't recognized her, either. Well, he would recognize her—poor Nathanaël's crush had guaranteed that—but maybe he hadn't been able to place where he'd recognized her from. Perhaps she'd misinterpreted his first look, and she was merely one familiar face among many but not someone familiar enough to put a name to. She'd have to find out. She would, no doubt, need his help protecting her family and friends if it came to that. And then, even if he didn't truly know who she was before, he'd learn exactly who she was beneath the mask—flaws and all.

She wasn't sure why that bothered her so much. She knew Chat Noir had wanted to know her identity, but until today, he'd respected her wishes against it. Was she angry because he had found out or because of how he'd found out?

She wished she could convince herself that her anger was solely because of Tikki's warnings against anyone finding out the truth, but she hadn't forgotten the stab of betrayal she'd felt. It had been an act, but it had been a realistic one, and for a moment there….

Marinette stopped her frantic flight, reigning in her yo-yo as she balanced on a rooftop and looked out at the city around her. It was late afternoon, the view marked with glints of sunlight and stretching shadows beyond that. Even from her height, the wind wasn't enough to drown out the hubbub of traffic below or the distant sounds of construction, pierced by sirens and—since she wasn't far from a park—shrieks of laughter. The air seemed fresher than usual, and the city felt very much alive to her after spending time in the heavy darkness of the catacombs.

She felt lucky.

Being Ladybug had afforded her an opportunity to see Paris as she never had before; no doubt Chat Noir had experienced the same. He had always had more courage than she, and not all of it simply bravado, but he had embraced his role as Chat Noir. She had tried to run away from it, just as she was running now, because she had been afraid that she couldn't do something like this.

But Tikki had been right: she was cut out to be Ladybug. And Chat Noir…. She couldn't imagine someone else being Chat Noir. If given the choice, she would never replace her partner. And, were their roles reversed, she would have done her best to save him. Just as he had for her.

She'd been thinking that Chat Noir had been making everything up on the fly—and perhaps he was, at least for the most part. They both knew Hawk Moth wanted their Miraculous. When trying to bargain with him, they could offer little else. But what had Chat Noir said when she'd told him to run? This isn't a trap. This is a prearranged meeting. She must still be missing something. Mirror Image must have met with Chat Noir after all. That part had never been a lie.

Chat Noir had bargained for her safety and that of her family. The deal wouldn't stand now, of course, not without Hawk Moth holding her Miraculous, but he had tried to protect her. He had tried to protect her and her family, knowing exactly what she'd be concerned about. She and Chat Noir rarely spoke of their families—it would be difficult to keep their lives separate and their identities secret if they did—but she had warned him before that she might be late for patrol because of one family event or another.

She couldn't recall him ever mentioning something like that.

He spoke vaguely of commitments rather frequently, usually while apologizing for being held up or unable to get away to transform, but family was not a reason she remembered ever passing his lips. Perhaps he simply never wanted to specify—if he came from a large family, telling her most of his commitments were family-related could have tipped her off—or perhaps he wasn't as close to his family as she was to hers.

It was funny, but for all that her silly kitty had made it clear he'd love for them to know each other's identities, he had never given her many hints.

He was a better actor than she'd anticipated, much better than when he'd played bait for Mr. Pigeon, and he knew something of the art of bargaining. He was a good fighter—he'd been better than her at combat all along—and he apparently had some connections with high society if he'd felt confident in spotting a switch in the Bourgeois family. He was allergic to feathers, had a terrible fondness for puns, and was brave to the point of foolishness. She didn't know enough. As far as she could tell, he'd taken to becoming a hero like a fish to water, so she wasn't sure if his knowledge of the city (even from above!) was the product of hours of study or something he'd picked up beforehand.

Marinette pulled up the tracker option on her yo-yo, but Chat Noir wasn't transformed. Even if she wanted to talk to him, she couldn't find him. But perhaps that was for the best. The logical part of her mind understood his actions, but her heart wasn't quite ready to forgive them.

Had he always played his cards so close to his chest? She'd called him on keeping secrets earlier today, and he'd managed to evade her even if she hadn't realized it at the time. Maybe that was when he'd met with Mirror Image; he certainly hadn't seemed quite himself afterwards, although she was certain it had been him. Copycat's blatant disregard for the rules had been designed to get Chat Noir in trouble. Mirror Image…. Mirror Image had used Chat Noir in a different way.

Mirror Image hadn't tried to turn the public against Chat Noir; he had tried to turn Chat Noir against her and, by consequence, her against him. It had been a simple divide and conquer technique. Chat Noir had played along to try to fool Mirror Image, and she'd fallen for both of their ploys.

Maybe she felt guilty now because she didn't dare feel too angry—even at herself, even if she deserved it—because she didn't dare present herself as a potential victim to Hawk Moth. The last thing Paris needed was to lose one of its heroes—or worse, both.

Marinette closed her yo-yo and sighed. She'd need to talk things over with Tikki, if only to get a different perspective on the situation. Maybe, after that, she'd be ready to face her partner.

Because he was still her partner, even after this. They needed to defend their city, and they needed to defeat Hawk Moth. She couldn't do it alone. And she didn't want to work with anyone else in Chat Noir's stead. He was one of the reasons she had accepted her role as Ladybug, and she owed him thanks for that if nothing else.


Adrien sprinted down the stairs and out the front door, calling something incomprehensible to Nathalie as he flew by.

Marinette wasn't answering her phone, and Adrien could only hope he had the right number. Nino had passed it on to him from Alya even before he had ended up at Marinette's place to play video games or act as a translator, though in truth, Adrien hadn't yet needed her number; most of the time, Alya seemed to arrange things, at least when they were all meeting up.

The phone finally cut to voicemail. It was Marinette's, but that didn't do him any good. For all he knew, she was still transformed, and he couldn't track Ladybug when he wasn't Chat Noir. Unless someone had posted a sighting on Alya's blog in the last couple of minutes?

Slowing down to check right now would take too long, especially when it was unlikely he'd be that lucky. He bit off a quick message that was suitably vague in case anyone else overheard it—Marinette, it's Adrien. I need your help.—before shoving his cell phone into his pocket and focusing on putting some distance between himself and the akuma. Plagg would slow it down. He had to slow it down. If Adrien looked over his shoulder now, he wouldn't see it coming after him, not yet….

Don't look. Just run.

It wasn't until he was cutting through the Place des Vosges that Adrien realized where he was going: Marinette's. She might not be home, but he still had to try. And if she wasn't home….

Adrien hesitated, misjudged his next step, tripped over his own feet, and found himself sprawled on the grass with sore hands and knees and a throbbing ankle. Panting, he got back to his feet and took off again, slower than before and suppressing a wince with each step. He couldn't afford to wait for Marinette to come back if she wasn't there, but he certainly couldn't afford not to check in the first place. He wasn't sure what he'd say to her. He'd probably end up saying everything all at once, in a jumble.

Hopefully the grass stains would help convince her that this wasn't all some elaborate joke on his part.

Adrien reached the statue dedicated to Ladybug and Chat Noir and finally risked a glance over his shoulder. The akuma was closer than he'd anticipated, flying with apparent ease despite what looked like a torn wing. Magic. Adrien surged forward, hurling himself away and stumbling into a run. He didn't have time to catch his breath or nurse his injuries. He had to keep moving.

A pedestrian swerved to avoid him as he burst out of the park, and he had a fleeting thought about how disappointed his father would be to see him like this. Being dishevelled (much less dirty and stained) in public was unacceptable, as was running wildly and recklessly. He was Adrien Agreste, son of Gabriel Agreste, and he represented their brand as much as he did their family. He was destroying their image. It was utterly intolerable.

It was, no doubt, as intolerable as allowing himself to fall victim to Hawk Moth and become the latest villain to plague the city. It just wouldn't do. He must simply exercise better control over himself and his emotions.

If his father knew as much about Hawk Moth and how he operated as Adrien did, he would surely say something like that. At the very least, his disapproval that Adrien had not realized such things earlier would have been made clear. If he somehow found out that Adrien had known such things and had still allowed himself to be controlled?

He might never be allowed to attend school with his friends again, not after such a lapse of judgement.

Although it would mean he wouldn't have to face Marinette almost every day. He couldn't imagine what she was going to say after this, once she learned the truth. She would be as disappointed in him as his father—if she even disdained to allow herself to feel anything but dislike for him. He couldn't bear the thought of that. He didn't want to disappoint both of them, and he didn't want to lose her forever.

But it was quite likely that he already had, after what he had done today.

Adrien blinked back tears as he made a wild dash across the street, not quite sure if they were brought on chiefly by his churning emotions or the jabbing pain in his right ankle which stabbed upwards every time he put weight on it. He headed for the bakery like it was a sanctuary, even though he knew very well it wasn't, but if he could just get to Marinette….

Adrien reached out his right hand to grasp the door handle, and the akuma landed on his ring.


Gabriel felt a rush of magic as the connection was made, and he smiled. "Hello, Chat Noir," he said. He could read the emotions rolling off his son, panic and desperation barely masking the inner turmoil of guilt and regret and utter worthlessness. He would have to address them another time, but for now it was necessary to use them.

"Hawk Moth." The acknowledgement was spoken with an undertone of bitter resignation, though that did not surprise Gabriel in the slightest. Adrien could not fight an arrangement he had already agreed to, and Nooroo's magic was such that anyone who agreed would become his champion. Adrien's eagerness, which was currently lacking, would come to fruition once the terms were laid out.

"You would ensure the health and safety of those you love," Gabriel began. "I wish for the same, and we can achieve our goals together. All we need are the Miraculous. Bring them to me."

The silence stretched for longer than it should have, but at last Adrien acknowledged him. "I understand, Hawk Moth."

Gabriel felt the magic bubble out from the akuma and breathed a little easier in spite of himself. Knowing something would go his way did not guarantee it would go smoothly, but Adrien had become his champion, and the plan was in progress. He was one step closer.

This was for the best, for both him and Adrien. The boy would understand one day. And until then, Gabriel would keep doing the best he could. "Wings fall, Nooroo."

His transformation receded, and Nooroo reappeared. "This is wrong, Master," he repeated.

"Eat and regain your strength," commanded Gabriel as he moved to unlock the study door again. "We are not finished yet."