Chat Noir

"Uh," Chat said, eyes wide. He turned to Marinette, who was similarly aghast. They'd not discussed how they were going to handle this particular situation. "I'm not sure where to begin."

"Let's cut to the chase, then," Master Fu said. "Clearly you've both broken the one protocol I emphasized should never be broken."

"Yes," Chat confirmed, downcast. "It wasn't intentional, Master. But both of us made one too many mistakes in front of the other today." He looked up. "This is completely on me. I should never have leaned on Marinette the way I did; this would never have happened if I'd just let it go."

To his surprise, Master Fu smiled slightly. "My children, I never expected you to keep secrets from each other forever. I'd just hoped it would take a bit longer for the two of you to figure it out on your own." He put his satchel on the end of the bed and continued. "But the two of you are too smart for your own good; I could see that from the beginning, and knew it was just a matter of time."

"So, you're not mad?" Chat tried to look as contrite as possible.

"I'm furious, but we have larger issues to deal with at the moment."

Chat let out the breath he was holding, instinctively understanding he'd crossed a line with the Master that would take a long time to repair. "Of course, Master Fu," he said simply.

The Keeper of the Miraculous leaned a hip on the edge of the bed. "Marinette was correct in her assessment of the situation. You are currently under what I believe is known as the transformaton entropique – the so-called 'Entropic Transformation' - magic so old, it predates even that of the Miraculous Jewels."

"Entropic?" Chat looked between Marinette and Master Fu. "The transformation part I get," he said, indicating the whiskers with one hand, "but I think I'm missing the context on the first part."

Marinette smirked. "Someone wasn't paying attention in science class," she chided. "But I've only heard that term in relation to the Laws of Thermodynamics. To be honest, I never thought much about the intersection of science and magic."

Master Fu nodded. "The two are not all that separate," he said. "In this case, we're concerned about the Second Law. What do you remember about that?"

Chat spoke up: "Closed systems never change, essentially," he said, winking at Marinette.

"Very good, Adrien," Master Fu said. "Intuitively, you already understand, then, that the bond between you and your kwami is a 'closed state' - until you use Cataclysm."

"That changes the overall equation," Chat nodded in agreement, "discharging the ring and forcing me to revert."

Fu produced a medieval looking book from his satchel. It was a massive, leather bound item rimmed with gold flakes and a script that Chat didn't recognize. Fu set it on the bed and flipped to a page he had bookmarked, turning it to face the duo. "This is a text from the eighth century B.C.," he explained, pointing to the rather extraordinary illustration.

It depicted a quasi-human form leaning away from a cloaked figure; it wasn't lost on Chat that the non-cloaked being looked a lot like someone who was using the Miraculous Cat jewel, although he happened to think his ears were a bit better designed.

"According to this text, there was a period of time when humanity didn't trust the Miraculous Holders. A small scholarly sect in Mesopotamia created an alchemical brew that, if used against a transformed Miraculous, would both deplete their energy and forever trap them in their transformation, powerless to prevent the removal of their jewel."

Whoa.

"They also created an army of ephemeral beings they called 'marcheurs Miraculeux' - commonly referred to as the Miraculous Walkers - that could be called upon to descend upon an identified Miraculous holder and render them harmless." He pointed to the cloaked figure. "That, I think, is what is currently hunting you. Although I am not yet certain what triggered it."

Master Fu looked from one to the other, his eyes communicating the gravity of the situation to the teenagers. "Fortunately, our order was able to prevent this from being used more than a few times; in those cases when it was used, we ultimately recovered the Miraculouses in question."

"And repaired them?" This was from Marinette.

Fu turned toward her, frowning. "I can only interpret what I've been able to find as a lukewarm 'maybe.'" He pulled a second book of his satchel, a bit more modern than the first, and keyed it to another bookmarked page. "This story is from Africa in the late sixteen-hundreds. A predecessor in my position had an entry in his diary denoting the steps he'd taken to 're-energize a depleted jewel,' and while he lays out the ingredients used, I've not been able to create the right compounding as yet, nor does he actually describe how the process of recharging is to be done. Rub it on the jewel? Drink it? Run around on a pogo stick? I have no earthly idea, and no one to ask."

Master Fu rubbed his eyes and suddenly looked very tired. "I also don't know if any of what I've discovered applies to you, Adrien. You've been double-dosed; that could mean anything from needing twice the antidote to the real possibility that nothing will slow – or stop – it's effects."

Chat's eyes widened and ears flattened. "Wait, are you saying what I think you are saying? Am I actually turning into a cat? For real?"

He pondered that for a moment. Chat had been, well, a cat for almost a year now; he knew he'd been taking on more and more feline aspects as he'd grown more comfortable with the role, but had never considered them more than character affectations that would play well to Ladybug and the wider public. The chance that he might actually have always had more feline in him as part of the Miraculous deal – and that it could completely subsume who he thought he was – was not a comfortable thought. Despite his earlier conversation with Marinette, what had been happening to him had felt more abstract; the possibility it could be irreversible hadn't been contemplatable.

With a cold, hard certainty, it was now crystal clear.

Master Fu nodded. "It's the only explanation, given your symptoms and what I've discovered. And at the rate you're going, I suspect you have, at most, another day before any trace of you – the human part, that is – is lost and irretrievable."

He looked up at the two super heroes, somber, and withdrew a small corked bottle from his bag. It glowed a brilliant yellow color, although as he watched, Chat thought he saw it shift to green and then back to yellow. "I think this will slow things down for a bit," he said, handing the vial to Chat. "If we are really lucky, it might undo a little of the effects of the Entropic Transformation, but not entirely."

Chat rolled the vial in his hands. It was warm to the touch and seemed to be responding to his movements in a very unsettling way. "This won't recharge the ring, will it?"

Fu shook his head and shrugged at the same time. "No. Maybe."

That's reassuring.

Noir looked to Marinette. "What do you think, milady?"

She was chewing her lip the way she always did when she wasn't one-hundred percent sure how to respond. Her blue eyes were deeply troubled, and worry lines seemed to have become permanent around them.

At length, she said: "If this at the very least slows down the progression of the spell, it's worth it. I need you out there with me tracking down whoever is using this against us." She reached over and flicked a lock of his hair back so she could see his eyes clearly. "I need you, Chat."

Chat looked at the vial again. Drink it and hope for the best? He turned back to Marinette, wanting to say a thousand things to her and unable to utter even one. But the look of support he saw in her eyes muted the worst of the fears that were threatening to overtake him.

"Anything for you, milady," he said, though none of his usual playfulness enthused the words.

No, he thought. I am terrified. Terrified at losing all of this.

He uncorked the vial and tossed it back in one gulp before he lost his nerve, shuddering as it seared its way into his gullet. Within seconds a warmth blossomed out from his stomach, far worse than anything the Camembert had done to him. Stars bloomed in his vision, knocking out his night vision, and the blood started to rush through his ears, drowning out anything Master Fu or Marinette might have been saying to him. Chat's heart felt like it was throwing itself against his ribcage in an attempt to free itself from imprisonment. Then it suddenly stopped – and he felt that, too, oddly.

"Oh," he said, sliding down the headboard of his bed. "That's some awful stuff..."