Adrien watched, intrigued, the two kwamis sitting on the low Chinese table. Plagg had been moved to tears to be presented with an entire carton of camembert, and was now eating his way through it, as happy as Adrien had ever seen him. The green turtle kwami, the one who had introduced himself as Wayzz, was sitting on top of a deck of playing cards, patiently asking Plagg questions about what had happened in the last few weeks. Then, just as patiently, asking them again every time the answer came out garbled beneath mouthfuls of cheese.

He had been given a towel upon entering the little dwelling at the back of the massage parlor, and he adjusted it around his shoulders now, slowly starting to warm up. The room around him was decorated in a simplistic, traditionalist Asian aesthetic, with belongings sparse and functional, all clean lines and minimalist design. It was odd, to Adrien's eyes, when he was used to the oversized grandeur of his own mansion, or the cheerful clutter of Alya's house, or the fullness and warmth of Marinette's. He had never seen a house with so little in it. If he had to, Adrien thought the old Chinese man could probably pack almost everything here into one single suitcase, probably in ten minutes or less.

"Here." The man called Fu bent down beside Adrien, placing a cup in front of him. At the bottom of it, tea leaves rested, along with some sort of powdered herbs. Fu lifted a tea kettle, pouring hot water over them.

"Thank you," Adrien said, in Mandarin Chinese. "It looks like Oolong?"

"My own recipe," Fu replied, also in Mandarin. "It'll help with the pain."

Adrien had found an oversized gray t-shirt, the day before, to cover the black-veined hole in his chest. He briefly wondered how the old man knew about the injury. But then, after he had detransformed, it had taken him a few moments to adjust to the return of the pain, so that he could walk straight. Maybe he hadn't hidden it as well as he thought.

He watched his tea brew, frowning. "Can I ask you something?"

"Please do," Fu said, moving to the other side of the table. He began preparing his own tea, combining tea leaves and slightly different herbs.

"That book, over on the shelf there," Adrien said. "I noticed it when I came in. I'm sure—it's the same one that was in my father's house, before it went missing." He glanced at the turtle bracelet on Fu's wrist, remembering a page with a green-themed warrior upon it, a giant shell upon his back. "Can I ask how you came to have it?"

"Your Chinese is very good, if a little formal," Fu said, smiling. He eased himself onto a floor cushion, across the table from Adrien, with a sigh. "Simple enough. Ladybug brought it to me, about a month ago. There's a script in it that not many people know anymore, that she wanted me to decode."

"Really?" Adrien asked, instantly more invested in the conversation. "Ladybug was here? Then… What was in it? What did you two talk about?"

Fu chuckled to himself, pouring water over his own leaves. "Ask me again in five or six months. Maybe, then, I'll have an answer for you."

Adrien studied the old man, trying to figure him out. Another miraculous holder… That made four, didn't it? His ring. Ladybug's earrings. If he had seen right, his father's pendant. And now, presumably, the green bracelet Fu was wearing. What were his powers? Could he help them fight against Papillon? Maybe he could—

"You really upset Monsieur Kubdel, you know."

Instant shame and guilt. "You know him?"

"We're acquaintenced," Fu replied, with an amused expression. "Circumstances have caused us to run into each other, from time to time. Very different world views, quite a lot we disagree on, but… We're not enemies, or anything, and we have worked together in the past. As soon as you left his office, he called me, quite furious! Now what is it that you were trying to do, with something like the jewel of Zou Dan?"

"Zou Dan?" Adrien asked. "You mean Soh Tahn?"

"Oh? Is that what the French call it?" Fu shrugged. "Every culture that is aware of it pronounces it slightly different, I think. Where I am from, it is almost always 'Zou Dan'."

"What does that mean?" Adrien asked. The tonal usage was all off, throwing off Adrien's grasp of Mandarin. He kept trying to mentally correct it, to come up with hanzi characters that could fit it. Walking alone? Something about eggs?

"It doesn't mean anything," Fu replied. "The mouth that originally named it was not a human mouth, so now everyone in different countries must do their best to make the sound anyways. The ones that try, anyways. In a lot of the newer languages, they give up and just call it 'miraculous ore'."

"Miraculous," Adrien echoed.

Fu smiled. Tapped his bracelet, then pointed toward the ring on Adrien's finger. "The same material our miraculouses were made from, thousands of years ago. There used to be much more of it, but on earth, at least, it's quite rare."

Adrien glanced down at his ring, trying to connect it to the lumpy red rock he had held just hours ago. "Thousands of years?" he asked, touching what felt like, to him, smooth metal. "Plagg is that old?"

Plagg looked up at the mention of his name, mouth half-full of camembert.

"Oh, no," Fu said, amused. "Plagg is billions of years old."

"How can that be?" Adrien protested. "Was there even life on earth a billion years ago? You can't know that!"

"How interesting," Fu said. "A boy who, first-hand, has seen miracles happen, telling me that something could ever truly be impossible." He motioned to Adrien's cup. "Your tea is ready, I think."

The water had steeped a dark brown, tinged slightly with green. Adrien ignored it, focused on the man, silently demanding an answer.

Fu looked back, amused. "Human beings are such a young, inexperienced species, in the face of the universe. It is a little silly to assume the universe revolves around us, isn't it? For as long as the cosmos has existed, there has been the possibility, with the assertion of willpower, to create tiny permutations in the nature of quantum reality, even if it opposes already-established orders and rules. Or, what you and I might call a 'miracle'.

"Long before us, long before any of the beasts or birds, or even fish on this planet, there were Others. Forms of life, all throughout the universe, ancient ones, and very powerful. Most of them were good, but there were a few, grasping and violent, who spread darkness everywhere they went, on a scale you and I can't even imagine. When it became clear that the destructive ones would not be redeemed, the others, in their wisdom, created kwamis. Manifestations of quantum miracles, capable of devouring dark energy wherever they found it.

"For eons, this continued, this great battle. But, at last, there were no more of the dark ones left to devour. And the kwamis were faced with a problem. They were incredibly powerful, capable of great devastation of their own, if not kept in check. And they now had no purpose, and could not even be close to most races of living things without hurting them the moment one of them had a dark thought. What should they do, now that their reason for existence was finished? Should they deactivate themselves?"

Fu looked down at Plagg and Wayzz, expression fond. "I'm not sure what most of them chose, all throughout the universe. But at least a few of the kwamis, drifting near the earth millions and millions of years later, saw the growing life forms there and decided to stay. Using Zou Dan, devices were crafted for them, capable of restraining and focusing their power, so that they could live among the fragile little lives there without harming them. It was decided that, in the hands of life forms with clear hearts and good purposes, they would use their powers to protect the creatures of that particular planet, and watch over their growth. It was as good a purpose as any. Over time, humans influenced them, and altered the shape of their miraculouses to reflect other creatures on earth."

Adrien sipped at his tea, frowning. "That's a lot to swallow. Plagg, is all of that true?"

"I don't know," Plagg said hesitantly. "I can't remember any of that."

"None of them can," Fu explained. "To restrict themselves to little forms like this, that wouldn't instantly obliterate the planet, they had to seal a lot of themselves away. Even the kwami with the best memory of all," a glance at Wayzz, "can't remember anything before emerging from his miraculous for the first time, back when men still lived in caves. And there have been incidents, in the past ten thousand years, with each of the others. After each such incident, I'm afraid the kwami comes away with amnesia, if it survives, wiped clean." Fu frowned, grave. "Humans are capable of such heroic selflessness and bravery, but also of such intense selfishness and destructiveness. Kwamis, by their nature, absorb energy. Whatever you as a host feed your kwami, it can't help but be affected by it."

They were silent for a moment, mulling over that.

"Anyways," Fu said, smiling again. "I am glad Monsieur Kubdel called. I have been searching for you for weeks. The cat miraculous is so good at hiding away, isn't it?" He took a sip of his tea. "You will, of course, be staying with me for now."

"Wait, what?" Adrien asked, looking up from his own cup.

Fu laughed. "You must forgive me. We are so informal, these days. In millennia past, it was the custom that miraculous holders would take on apprentices, and train them for years before passing their miraculous on to the next generation. But roughly a hundred years before I was born, there was a great massacre, and most of their knowledge and history were wiped out. When I first came to hold the turtle miraculous, there was no one to help me, and I had to spend the first few centuries figuring things out on my own. I was stronger, for it, in the end, and I wanted to let you explore your abilities on your own as well. But…" He sighed. "Other people are not me. You've been in turmoil, these past few weeks, and for that, I am sorry. You in particular are one that could have used a little guidance. So… Your room is through that door to the side there. Your training will begin in the morning."

"Are you sure?" Adrien asked, surprised. "I'm very grateful, but I couldn't impose on you like that."

"It's not imposing," Fu said gently. "Think of it this way, if it helps. An old man like me, living all alone. I could use a strong young boy like you to protect me."

"Ha!" Adrien shook his head. The man seemed small and fragile, but he had the feeling he could hold his own if needed. "Well, if you're sure… I won't lie. I have all these questions, and I would be very thankful for anything you could teach me, shifu."

"Then it's settled," the man said. He lifted the kettle, which was still letting off steam. "Would you like another cup of tea?"

.:|:.

There was no way even half of the books in Adrien's room had been read. There were too many of them—it would have taken years and years of nothing but reading!

Volpina reached for another one from the gigantic bookcases, shaking off a layer of dust. Adrien's room was still exactly as he had left it, presumably, neat and organized. But with other plans going forward, regular cleaning of the mansion was starting to fall by the wayside, and it showed in the slight dust accumulating everywhere in this room that had been kept locked away.

She opened the book, scanning over the pages of some sort of fairy tale. Lila had loved to read, she remembered suddenly. This was exactly the kind of sentimental garbage that Lila would have treasured (albeit with a book cover on, so that no one could tell she wasn't reading something more serious).

Oh. This one had been read by Adrien, apparently. There was a note, etched in small, neat handwriting in blue ink, at the bottom of one page. An arrow pointing up, and the words "Mom's favorite story". She tried to picture that, a presumably younger Adrien, who must have been a momma's boy, sitting on the woman's lap and listening while she read to him. She held the book for several minutes, trying to picture Adrien at all, to figure out what it must be like inside of his head.

The Gorilla, waiting by the door in his heavy armor, grunted in impatience for the fifth time. She had been in here for well over an hour. Her eyes flicked back toward him as, slowly, he turned and exited out the door for a moment, leaving her alone.

Finally. She closed the book, slowly counting to twenty before stalking toward the door herself.

.:|:.

Adrien stood in the little room, deeply touched. They must have guessed he would have been coming, and prepared for him. In the closet were five sets of clean clothes that, while inexpensive, were very close to his size. On the stand in a corner, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and shower supplies lay in a small box, on top of a fluffy folded towel. The humble futon on the floor was made up with warm, soft-looking blankets and pillows, and a few books had even been stacked beside it, in case Adrien wanted to read to pass the time. A smaller bed, made of spare cloth lining a shoe box, had been set down along with them, for Plagg.

He lowered his backpack in the corner, slowly closing the door. After weeks of freezing on the streets, being chased and yelled at and rejected, to be welcomed into this simple room, and even be gifted things like this, was overwhelming. For the first time in so, so long, he had been accepted, without suspicion or condition, and had somewhere safe to sleep. Gently, he picked up the box, excited for his first shower since the Paris apocalypse had begun.

The walls were thin. Even without feline hearing, he picked up on the loud knocking coming from outside. He and Plagg looked at each other as, from the other room, Master Fu slowly opened the door.

"Hello, mademoiselle," Fu's voice said, muffled. "What can I do for—"

"I want to speak to Chat Noir." A female's voice. Adrien recognized it immediately, and reached for the door. "Quickly, please! It's very important."

"Chat Noir?" Fu asked. "The superhero? What makes you think he might be here?"

"I saw it, on my cameras!" She sounded frantic, panicked. "He came into this building, I'm sure of it! Please, sir, I need to—"

"Alya." Adrien walked into the main room, frowning. "What's wrong? Did something—is that blood?!"

Fu turned to look at Adrien, stepping out of the way. Behind him, Alya stood in the doorway, soaked from running in the rain. Her eyes were wild with fear. One hand held a fist-full of gauze up to the side of her face, pressed against her ear.

"What happened?" Adrien said, crossing toward her. "Did something get you?"

"No," Alya said, taking a breath. "I just tried to pierce my ears and botched it, that's all."

"Why?" Adrien asked, at a loss. "What's going—"

"It's Nino," she said, her words spilling out in a rush. "He was acting weird, and then he suddenly left, and he hasn't come back. I'm worried about him!"

Adrien stiffened. "Acting weird how?"

"It's Nino, right?" Plagg said, over Adrien's shoulder. "How do you know he didn't just go for a late-night walk? Maybe he's fine."

Alya moved her other arm, opening the laptop she had been holding in the crook of her elbow. The screen flickered on, and she held it up, showing Adrien dozens of windows, all with different grayscale camera feeds, looking out at different parts of Paris.

"What is all of this?" Adrien asked, leaning in. Some of these parts of the city, even he didn't recognize!

"My cameras," Alya said, reaching around to touch the trackpad. "I've been building them ever since the city started to fall. Some of them are attached to drones, but others I've just been sticking in different parts of the city, here and there, trying to keep track of everything that's going on."

"You built all that?" Adrien asked, impressed. "From scratch?"

"It's nothing major," Alya said, making several quick clicks, then typing in a command prompt. "There's even tutorials for how to do it, on the internet. But when Nino didn't come back for a few hours, I was worried, and I started watching, and…"

One of the windows full-screened, rewinded its video, and played. A small brick-paved street was shown, and Adrien's heart leapt, recognizing that part of town. How had Alya managed to get a camera all the way into Papillon's territory? On the screen, a figure slowly stumbled in from one side of the frame, his steps dazed and unsteady. Nino, eyes blank and staring straight ahead, as he moved down the street, as though pulled on some invisible string.

"Please. Adrien…" Alya was on the verge of tears. "He's your friend, right? I'm begging you. I can't stop him now. I don't even know what's… If something isn't done, while he's out there…!" She took a breath, trying to steady herself. "I know I have no right to ask this of you right now, but—"

"It's okay," Adrien said, meeting her eyes. "I'll do what I can. Will you stay here, with Master Fu, until I get back?"

Alya nodded, glancing at the old man off to one side.

Adrien blew out, then stepped past her, preparing to run. "If you see him again on those screens, give me a call. Plagg! Transform me!"

.:|:.

The sleet had been driving hard, pelting down on everything below, covering it in layers of wet that slowly froze as the night went on. Now, slowly, flurries of snow were beginning to mix in, as the temperature dropped. They drifted in, blown about by the wind, clearest in the faint beams of streetlights that shone down in patches on the dark, empty streets. Hard sleet. Soft snow. And, occasionally, a drifting, swirling bubble.

The boy staggered down the avenue, no thoughts in his head. He slipped on a patch of ice, and fell, cutting his hands and his knees. He ignored it, got to his feet, and plodded on again. Something was whispering, calling toward him. The landscape around him was shifting, swirling in dark eddies that made no sense.

He didn't know where he was going. He didn't have to. He just had to follow the bubbles, forward and forward, until, finally, he was allowed to stop.

In the observatory high above the streets, one of the black butterflies clinging to the walls suddenly began to flap its wings, very excited. It let dark energy pulse out from it, calling, calling… So close now. So close! It detached from the wall suddenly, wings beating, carrying it toward the open window—

A drinking glass slammed down over it suddenly, trapping it. Papillon lowered the glass to a table, watching the akuma beat furiously against it from inside. "Patience, little one," he said softly. He turned toward the window and the driving white precipitation outside, letting pink flicker over his eyes. "That one would be of little use to us right now. Let us try instead…"

From behind the cover of a row of hedges, the umbrella-wielding akunette stepped into the street, following the orders of the pink mask on her face. She turned among the growing drifts of snow, shielded from it by the black weapon opened over her head, looking at the figure approaching from the distance. She smiled, and twirled the umbrella in her hands, making no move toward him just yet. It would be fine enough to let him come to his own doom.

Chat Noir raced through the increasingly slippery streets, heart pounding. So far away, so much distance to cover! He leaned into the run, willing himself to go faster. There was no way! He wouldn't get there in time! He just couldn't, no matter what he did, manage to cross all the way through to the other side of Paris before something happened to Nino. Sleet stung his eyes as he half climbed, half-slid down a railing, leaping forward and reaching out for the next obstacle he had to cross, that stood between him and his friend, so very, very far away.

Nino looked up at he walked forward, trying to see. Everything was so hazy, so dark. A girl was standing ahead of him, but he couldn't process her, couldn't figure out who she was. Couldn't figure out who he was. Couldn't figure out why he was here, or even why…

Thinking was hard. Thinking hurt. He couldn't do it. He let himself ago again, listening to the whispers in the back of his mind. As he walked forward, he let his arms drift out to the side, leaving himself open, a valuable target.

The akunette smiled viciously, lifting her umbrella. He was in range, now. One quick blow, and he would be hers, withering, feeding her umbrella with his energy. She aimed, readying a downward strike—

And paused. Confused, she tried to move her arm. Something was holding her back, preventing her from moving. Enraged, she cried out into the pink mask, wordlessly questioning Papillon, demanding to know why he was doing this.

Papillon, just as confused as she was, clenched his hands around his cane. "Nathalie!" he said, whirling around. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I'm trying to find out, sir," Nathalie rattled, her spider arms flying over the bank of monitors and keyboards in her web. "Her energy is fluctuating. Something is causing interference!"

"Get to the bottom of it, and stop it!" he yelled. "Immediately!"

Chat Noir was on the roofs now, straining forward. He could see the beginnings of Papillon's territory in the distance now, the barbed-wire fences that had been erected around it. He might get killed, going in there alone, where akumas swarmed! But he had to. If he didn't, Nino would—

He had been leaping, grabbing on to the edge of the next roof, when he slipped. He scrambled for purchase on the ice-coated shingles, but found none. His claws slipped free, and he was falling—

He cried out, as he fell into the alley below, and pain radiated sharply throughout his body. The wound in his chest pulsed in protest from beneath the suit, and he grabbed at it, breath burning in his lungs. Stupid, stupid, STUPID bad luck! He tried to stand, then collapsed again, everything a mess of pain.

No, no, no, no, no! He couldn't pause here, for even a second! He might even be already too late! If he didn't get up, Nino would be finished! If he failed here, despite all of his determination, and all of his willpower-!

Willpower. Quantum reality. Miracles. Chat Noir stopped struggling for a moment, still, listening to the sound of his own gasps. He hadn't understood Master Fu's words entirely. Still didn't. But, maybe… Maybe understanding wasn't the point.

He looked at his ring, wet from the falling sleet and snow, but still firmly attached to his finger. He breathed in. Breathed out. If ever he needed a miracle, it was now. He focused, closing his eyes.

Slowly, somehow, he managed to stand. He picked himself up. Climbed back onto the roof. And began moving again, even though, logically, there was no way he would ever make it in time. He kept his eyes closed as he jumped and slid among the slick rooftops, navigating by memory alone, keeping no track of time or anything else. He thought of Nino, focused only on him, and moved forward.

The akunette flexed her fingers as the hold on her arms loosened. Whatever had been holding her back, it was weakening now, losing its grip. She pushed through the last of it, swinging her umbrella in a slow, experimental circle.

Nino, even moving slowly and slipping every few steps, had managed to reach her. With dull, unseeing eyes, he clumsily dropped to his knees in front of her, pushed by bubbles only he could see. He kept his arms out away from his body, giving her a clear, completely uninterrupted path directly to his center.

Grinning, she raised her umbrella, pointed the tip at him, and plunged down—

The blur of black came from nowhere. She hadn't detected it, even though, supposedly, she should have been able to detect anything around her within a twenty-meter radius! It knocked into Nino, grabbing him as it flew past, the razored metal tip of the umbrella just barely scratching at its long black tail.

Nino, completely limp, didn't fight. He looked up at the face above him, as he was put down safely on the sidewalk. "A…Ad…?"

Chat Noir blew out, nerves rattled. "I've got you, buddy. Stay there." He turned around, eyes narrowing, to face the akunette behind him.

"One hole in your chest wasn't enough?" she asked, looking emotionlessly at him from behind pink light. "I can give you another."

There were no quips, no puns or jokes, that came to mind. Instead, he launched himself at her, swiping with his claws.

She side-stepped, bringing the umbrella down from above. He caught it, wrenching it out of her hands, throwing it to the side. She tried to jump at him, from behind. But for once, he was paying attention to his back. He caught her, and they rolled, over and over across the icy ground.

He pushed into the last turn, stronger, about to pin her. But she struck out, suddenly, punching at his chest, exactly where he had been hurt before. He yelped as pained red exploded across his vision, and she took the opportunity to throwing him off, and pin him instead. She reached out with her hand, and the umbrella flew obediently back toward her, until she snatched it out of the air. She twirled it, pointed the sharp metallic tip down, and lifted it high above her head, about to stab.

Half-blind, he kicked up, hard, throwing her off. He reached behind him to grab his staff, and extended it, using the momentum to push him back to his feet. Struggling for breath, he swept it low, at her feet.

She jumped over it. Twisted, mid-air, sending a kick for his head. Which he ducked. He tucked into a somersault, rolling beneath her, came up on her other side, and slammed the pole down for the back of her head as hard as he could.

She gasped, purple ashes bursting out from the point of impact, quickly caught in the heavy roiling winds and swept away. She stumbled, struggling to stay on her feet as her vision swayed. He knocked into her with his shoulder, knocking her to the ground.

His foot came down, hard, on the umbrella. It snapped beneath him, and almost instantly began to crumble into ashes and smoke.

An illusion, another illusion of Marinette. Not the real one. He was ninety-percent sure. And yet…

His eyes darted toward Nino, making sure he was still safe, laying on the sidewalk where he had left him. Then back to her face, so achingly familiar, and yet so strange to him. "Where is she?" he hissed. "What are you?"

Even injured, even practically defeated, she smirked up at him from where she lay in the wet road, unafraid. "They will come for you," she said softly, her voice in a sing-song lilt. "They will capture you, and then they'll tear you apart. You and every last one of your little friends."

"What does it take for me to reach you?" he said, voice breaking slightly. "If I could just talk to you, for even one second…!"

"It wouldn't do any good," she taunted. "You're too weak to find her, let alone save her. You wouldn't know it was her even if you did! She's just too—she's in a room with a lot of plants, probably on the second or third floors. There's a skylight. Blue paint on the walls."

The akunette went stiff, suddenly, confusion flickering over her face. "Why did I just…?"

Chat Noir held his breath, looking down at her. Looked deep into her eyes, trying to see anyone else, who might also be looking out through them.

"Thank you," he said, just in case she was listening, wherever she was. "I think I know the one. I'll come for you soon, Marinette."

Then, now one-hundred-percent sure she wasn't the one, he lifted his staff, striking a blow to the akunette hard enough to send purple ashes flying in every direction. He collapsed his staff, staggering upwards, and placed it in its holster behind his back. For just a moment, he turned, looking at the mansion so close—just a few miles away now—looming above the other buildings in the dark.

Soon. Quickly, he picked Nino up, cradling him protectively in his arms. Then he took off, running at top speed for the safety of the other side of the border fence.

.:|:.

The halls of the mansion were almost completely dark. It made sense, she supposed. This wing was sealed away, seeing hardly any foot traffic, and the few villains allowed inside could mostly see in the dark. Volpina couldn't, but she didn't dare risk turning on a light.

Heavy footsteps, uncomfortably close. Volpina pressed herself against a wall, holding her breath. The Gorilla was still lumbering through the area, joined now by a couple of other villains, trying to find her. Luckily for her, he was so noisy that, if she was careful, she could keep track of his general position, and stay ahead of it. The trick was to not get backed into a corner.

She turned down another hallway, checking rooms one by one. This one smelled good, vaguely… flowery? Most of the doors were locked, though, and she wasn't sure she had the spare time to pick each of them, one by one. She swiveled her ears as she tried different door knobs, trying to pin down where the Gorilla might be.

"Easy, now, easy!" A high-pitched voice, little and soft, full of worry. "Just focus on breathing, just like I told you. Happy thoughts. There you go! You're doing it!"

Volpina's ears zeroed in on the new voice. She crept toward the locked door it was coming from, crouching down. The mansion was very old, and the locks in this wing were the old-fashioned skeleton key type, where one could see through the key hole if they wanted. She pressed against it, trying to get a glimpse of what lay inside.

It was mostly dark inside, except for a pale puddle of moonlight, coming down from above, to a small circle on the floor. A figure, huddled inside, shivering. Dark energy coated her, struggling against her, trying to break her down into submission. She struggled back, breathing hard. Something small and red floated in the air beside her, watching over her.

The small form seized up suddenly, with a cry of pain. The red shape zipped back and forth, anxious, as the dark energy coiled around her, pulling at her. Purple light shot out beside her, forming smoke, then ashes that pulled together and solidified.

The umbrella-wielding akunette, newly re-formed, looked down at the huddle mass with a sneer. Then, dismissing her, crouched and bounded up into the air. There was a scraping sound, as, out of Volpina's vision, she opened the skylight, let herself out, then shut it behind her. The girl huddled on the floor gasped, alone again.

Or mostly alone. The red shape dropped to the floor beside her, leaning in close, whispering something that Volpina couldn't hear, but that sounded comforting.

Volpina gripped the door knob. This was it. The Gorilla was very close—she probably had just a minute or two to work with, before he found her. But that would be enough. She was already eyeing the skylight inside. She pulled a bobby pin out of the wrap around her hips, and got to work.

.:|:.

Safely back in the Cesaire apartment, Nino sat cross-legged on the floor, next to Master Fu. He focused on the candle flame in front of him, still a little drowsy, coming out of the hallucinations.

Master Fu smiled, closing his eyes. "There you go. Relax. See? The meditation is starting to work already."

Relieved, Adrien watched them from the entry way outside the apartment's little kitchen, a small smile on his face. He still wasn't sure completely how he had done it, but Nino was alive, safe, and back where he belonged. For the moment, that was all that mattered.

"Adrien?" Alya's voice called from down the hall. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Suddenly nervous, he pushed away from the wall. "Coming!"

He found her in her bedroom. Her closet was open, and she was kneeling half inside it, prying at something with a screwdriver. He looked for a moment at her desk, the monitors with the different windows showing city streets, the fist-sized round balls of metal, half-built, scattered around the keyboard waiting to be turned into more cameras.

"There they are," Alya said, pulling at something inside. She straightened up, finally, giving a definitive sigh. "I wanted to talk to you."

Adrien averted his eyes, bracing for the conversation. "I know. I saw the blog post. Look, I know what you must think of me, and—"

"I was wrong."

Alya looked up at him, spreading her hands. "I'm sorry. I jumped the gun, I think. I should have given you more of a chance." She shook her head. "It was just, you disappeared, so conveniently, and then we found out who Papillon was, and… And I was angry, and I couldn't do anything, so I wanted someone I could at least be angry at, so I could feel better, and…"

She stopped. "No," she said. "Those are just excuses. The point is, I was wrong. And I owe you an apology. I'm sorry, Adrien. I messed up. I'll post a retraction, as soon as I possibly can."

He didn't know that it would do much good. Half of Paris had already seen it, it seemed, and people would continue thinking whatever they wanted about him. He had to admit the theory made a lot of sense, looking at it from the outside.

Alya was looking down at her hands, clasped on her knees, upset. He smiled, taking a seat on the floor next to her. "I've messed up a lot, too, lately," he said. "We're both just doing the best we can, right? We have to forgive ourselves, when it doesn't turn out like we wanted." He hadn't been very good about that, with himself, lately. It was time to start.

"You saved Nino," Alya said, hesitantly looking up at him. "I owe you, so much, for that. So… It's time I tried trusting you a little, I think." She reached into the place she had been working on, in her closet, and pulled out a small box. Handed it to him.

He took it, curious, and opened it. Inside, a set of simple gray earrings rested on a layer of tissue. Still, he recognized them immediately. "The Ladybug miraculous," he breathed. Or half of it, anyways. "Alya, how did you…?!"

"Marinette gave them to me," Alya said softly. "She wanted me to hide them, to keep them a secret from everyone. But maybe she would have been okay with you seeing them. I don't know, maybe I should have tried to use them, to do something about what's happening. But I couldn't figure out how to make them work."

"It's not your fault," Adrien said. "Marinette only gave you half of them. You did very, very good. Thank you."

She smiled hesitantly at him. "I want to do even better. There's more. Nino and I have been tossing ideas around, trying to come up with a plan." She pointed to one of the walls, where a big, over-sized printout had been taped up: a hand-drawn layout of the Agreste mansion, as much as they could figure out from the internet and the few times one of them had been inside.

"We want to do something, to try to fight. We're so tired, of sitting here, just letting things happen. So we've been coming up with plans, a few different ones, that we might get in there and bust them up." A pause. "But, they're supervillains. We keep running into that problem. We can't get there alone, not without help. We need someone strong enough to stand up to them." She glanced at him, watching for his reaction. "We need you."

He looked over her map, already spotting places where he could correct mistakes, or fill in parts of the layout they didn't know about. "Of course, I'll help," he said. "Just… in the morning, okay? It's been a long, long night, it's almost sunrise, and I still haven't had a shower."

"Oh, right," Alya said quickly. "Of course. You can even crash here, if you—"

An agonized scream, coming from outside. Startled, they looked at each other, then simultaneously jumped up and ran for the door.

Master Fu had caught her, trying to sneak in through the window of the kitchen. She was pinned down, now, under a dome of green energy shaped like a tortoise shell. Master Fu stood over her, concentrating, holding out his hands over it. On his shoulder, Wayzz sat, glowing bright. The energy crackled, and Volpina screeched in pain beneath it, trying to thrash and twist her way free.

"Shifu, what are you doing?!" Adrien asked, moving closer.

"Don't worry," Fu said, with a casual shrug. "It will only take a moment. It's a little stressful, but the strain on her dark energy will force the akuma out. Once her object breaks, and we fend off the akuma, she will recover."

"Adrien!" Volpina's voice was distorted, under the shell of energy. She looked up at him with pained, determined eyes, weakly moving her hand toward her side. Hanging from her side was a small, round, pink bag, with a floral pattern.

Marinette's bag.

"Shifu, please!" Adrien said, trying again in Mandarin. "Stop, for just a moment! She's a friend!"

Fu relaxed his hands, looking up at Adrien, confused. The shell of energy crackled once, then disappeared. Volpina, shuddering and drained of energy, collapsed to the tile of the kitchen floor.

Someone must have attacked her. Adrien knelt beside her, taking in the bruises and cuts. One fox ear was almost completely cut off, and a deep bruise, the size of one of the Gorilla's fists, was swelling on the side of her face. "What happened?" Adrien asked. He glanced at the bag. "Did you find her?"

"She found her," a small voice said. The bag rustled on its own, and a red kwami's head poked out, big blue eyes looking up at him. "She went to a lot, to bring me here. Please don't hurt her!"

"Tikki!" Adrien said. "You're alright! Where's Marinette?!"

"Back at the mansion," Tikki said, floating out of the bag. "Things got rough, and we couldn't bring her with us. But I can lead you back."

The kwami moved up, grabbing onto Adrien's hand. She held it, urgently, looking into his eyes. "She got your message. She heard you, and she's hanging on, a little longer. She's waiting for you to come find her, Adrien!"

"Then I will," he promised, cupping Tikki in his hands. He looked around, at Master Fu and Wayzz, and Alya, and Nino, and Plagg, all gathered around him and Volpina. "We all will."