An American Wild Card in Paris

by Nangbaby

Ladybug and Cat Noir have their hands full when interlopers from overseas arrive...just after the heroes Ladybug normally counts on have been sidelined. However, help arrives in Paris in the form of another kind of Guardian that defends the NFL from superhuman threats. Can the heroes from different countries work together to save the world?

3. Moonocle

Wild Card glowered out of his black faceplate with luminescent lavender irises. The frontal shield buffered his face from the underground subway environment and the human vapors that lingered in the empty air. He looked at the Anticorian cuff on his left arm, which instead of being metallic in color was completely black, a visual accompaniment to the buzz that reached the back of his mind. His return to his enhanced, cybernetic form was independent of the butterfly that overshadowed his accessory. He was a veteran of villainy. He didn't need his new colleague to release power into his body, no matter how strong their mental connection felt at the moment.

Instead, Wild Card looked at the only other person waiting on a train. A skinny, brown-haired man in a gray suit and matching hat had lovingly lowered himself to play with a rat, then turned his head towards Wild Card. Wild Card bent his lips in a smirk the man would never see, and the hydraulics in the villain's armor whirred slightly as he raised his fist. The frightened man gained the speed of a person ten years younger than him and hurried himself away as the rat scampered in another direction.

It was not the most elegant display of force, but Wild Card was the antithesis of grace. It was his choice to return to this form, and a message to the man who spoke in his head.

In stark contrast to Wild Card, the man on the other end of the mental connection was impeccably dressed in a magic purple suit, visually less ready for battle than business. His very presence was enthralling and as soothing as a slow inhale to oxygen-starved lungs. Wild Card was still partly organic; he needed to breathe, but he could hold his breath for a long time.

"What do you want?" Wild Card asked.

"It's not about what I want," Hawk Moth replied with a honeyed tone, "but what you want."

"If you're offering me a deal, I'm not going to be your delivery boy. I know how to get more power without you."

"No, Wild Card, I just want to talk. I noticed your enemies have followed you here."

"Nice work earlier today. You know if you had asked me, I'd have told you turning them to the dark side doesn't really stick."

"What a precise choice of words." Hawk Moth's grin widened slightly. "That's why I was looking for an expert in bonding Anticorian materials to Earth technology."

Wild Card held back the impulse to laugh, although he was certain Hawk Moth felt the derision through their link.

"Then you asked the wrong guy," Wild Card replied. "I'm not Anticorian."

"But you are powered by Anticorian technology," Hawk Moth responded as he tugged ever so slightly at their mental tie. "Acquiring a source of Anticorian metal would be mutually beneficial."

"If I wanted something for myself, I'd just take it."

"And attract the attention of the Guardians and Ladybug and Cat Noir? It would be you and any Blitz Botz you could scrounge up against your old foes and new ones."

"Looks like you're the one with more to lose than me," Wild Card countered. "I'm used to dealing with those clowns. On the other hand, you have a team of heroes in Paris you don't even know to worry about, each member with multiple powers. You'd better choose a better target next time. The Guardians beat you when they were short-handed. I hate to imagine what they'll do to you once they're at full strength."

"I'll be in touch," Hawk Moth stated. With a flicker, the darkness faded from the metal on Wild Card's arm and the pressing weight of Hawk Moth's voice fled his mind. Wild Card himself powered back down to Warren Zimmer and felt his resolve weaken slightly. He hated to admit that as Warren, he might have become a puppet instead of a participant of the conversation. The Anticorians had been good for something in giving him back his powers.

The thought of Anticorians cemented his understanding. Hawk Moth wanted an Anticorian metal from him just as he had been conveniently summoned to Paris.

He laughed out loud in the empty subway as the implication hit him, as the Agreste family were the inverse of Wild Card and R.Z. Secret identities were never worth the trouble it took to keep them.

"Old man," Warren muttered to himself, "you tipped your hand. Now who do I work on? The father or the son. The run-pass option."

---

The rush of noise and the wind began to whip as the subway car approached, unthinking of the plans that danced in Warren Zimmer's head. Instead it opened its doors and Warren stepped into the near-empty train, his thoughts as circuitous as the underground trip was linear.

The teenager who was once Alya Césaire stood in the underground man-made caverns of the Parisian sewers. She looked like Alya. She spoke like Alya. Yet she wasn't dressed like Alya and her dark pink eyes were not that of Alya. Instead of her usual plaid shirt, three-quarter length jeans, and sneakers, she wore a skintight black suit and mask offset by white boots and gloves. The left glove was covered by a white gauntlet with pink circles while the right glove clasped a white cell phone. Phosphorescent pink -bands adorned the center of her chest.

Her partner, by contrast, looked nothing like his former self. Moments ago he was Nino Lahiffe, but his transformation had left his newer self with a body with bubbles for armor, a giant red bubble covering his chest as smaller ones were overload on his shoulders as well as a bubble tethered atop the hood that covered much of his head. Below the red bubbles on his chest and shoulders were smaller bubbles of blue and gold and this pattern was repeated with series of bubbles on his shins. His lower arms, hips and thighs, feet and ankles all covered in black, except for the left cuff, which was black but adorned with red circular depressions. In the center of his chest rested three concentric circles of black and white with two tubes connecting to the receptacle on his back. What exposed skin of his face remained was blue with his beady red eyes set in black, as well as two black blotches, one above his left eye and below his right eye.

These two were Lady Wifi and Bubbler, a pair of supervillains staring at the gauntlets they sported. Angkoro, Stellaria, and Zich stood in front of them, clad head to toe in their golden Anticorian suits of armor. The faces of the adult trio were obscured in comparison to that of the teenagers.

"How do you feel?" Stellaria asked.

"Awesome!" Bubbler answered as a smile bloomed on his face.

"No akuma," Lady Wifi commented. "No strings."

"Of course," Angkoro said. "We're not Hawk Moth. We have learned that compulsion alone makes for a poor motivator. We want each of you to be your best self without the side of emotional blackmail. You are no longer chained to Hawk Moth's service. You don't have to be under his orders or his influence. Those bracelets are yours to keep and to wear."

"I can finally seek the truth my own way," Lady Wifi declared.

"Total freedom!" Bubbler shouted in delight.

A grunt emerged from the enormous Zich, pulling a string of tension within Bubbler and Lady Wifi.

"What did he say?" Lady Wifi asked.

"He means you are free," Stellaria explained, "to pledge your loyalty to us." Her words painted more strokes of distrust on the teenagers' faces.

"And what if we refuse?"

"Then you might end up like our other guest. We could use more than one bargaining chip."

"What other guest?"

"We will tell you more," Angkoro replied, "if you join us."

Lady Wifi and Bubbler faced each other and nodded, then resolutely turned to the adults in armor.

"It is good to be back," Lady Wifi said, "so it makes the choice obvious."

Yes," Bubbler agreed as he bent his arm back and gripped the blue handle of his bubble wand, "it's time to clear all the annoying adults out of the room."

No sooner than Bubbler spoke did Lady Wifi lift her phone and swipe the touchscreen. At the same time, Bubbler swung his giant bubble wand and unleashed a torrent of red, translucent spheres. Not one of their targets attempted to move and soon Lady Wifi herself was frozen out of confusion. No pause symbol had emerged from her phone. Instead, the Wi-Fi and cellular icons both faded and grayed out.

Stellaria raised her hands, almost as if in surrender as the swarm of red bubbles approached her. Just before the bubbles reached her, a gust of wind stopped their momentum and pressed them back. The bubbles swirled aimlessly between the two groups.

Bubbler chuckled. His plan was to simply use the first volley as a distraction, but Stellaria's ineffective counter had left the three wide open. She had merely bought herself time; with a snap of his fingers, the red bubbles turned green and momentarily swirled with purpose.

The spin soon stopped as Bubbler began to float in mid-air, bathed in a red glow that matched the red eyeholes of his captor. Angkoro had stretched out his hand and Bubbler was suspended by the Anticorian. The teenage supervillain and his bubbles floated without purpose. The bubbles parted and Zich had a split-second opening as Angkoro released the telekinetic hold. In that window, Zich grabbed Bubbler as Angkoro took the bubble wand out of his hand and the two armored figures gloated with a defenseless pose.

Lady Wifi saw her opening from the shadows. She planned to jump Zich from behind and climb on his back to force him to release Bubbler. The big Anticorian would not expect her to physically attack. She didn't need to overpower him, just to be precise. The element of surprise and a second was all she needed.

Unfortunately, a whirl of green bubbles slammed into her from behind. The miniature green bubbles congealed into a giant bubble that suspended the girl in mid-air inside a spherical cage. Bubbler flailed his arms and legs in vain as Angkoro studied the giant bubble wand with false interest.

"Have you reconsidered?" Angkorro asked, "We will give you your toy back if you are willing to comply."

"We could have easily trapped both of you in those bubbles," Stellaria admitted "but we want you to learn from your shared mistake."

Bubble took a glance over to Lady Wifi, who pounded against her bubble. He made himself limp and Zich dropped him onto the ground. Angkoro opened his palms and levitated the giant bubble wand. It floated in the air towards Bubbler, who grabbed it.

With a snap of Bubbler's fingers the bubble around Lady Wifi burst and she fell on the ground. He sheathed his bubble wand.

"A decision far wiser than your previous one," Angkoro warned as he faced Lady Wifi. "Your powers only work where there is ample Wi-Fi. We shut down the Wi-Fi, and you will find cellular service difficult to obtain underground. But if you wish to continue with foolish displays, we can impart more painful lessons."

"You have power," Stellaria remarked, "but you are unable to wield it properly. It is no wonder that you were defeated so easily by your peers...and discarded so easily by Ladybug."

The barb pricked the sore heart of Lady Wifi. For a second she wished she had truly been akumatized, where her goal became so all-encompassing her former self was lost in the madness of obsession. No, she still felt the same emotion as she did before the cuff was placed on her arm. This awareness was a curse; in her heart of hearts she knew she would not forget this experience if she ever went back to being Alya.

And right now, as she made her way to her feet, she didn't want to go back.

"You can walk away right now as long as you do not attack us," Stellaria declared. "We're not here to force you to join us. But think how easily you were defeated. You would be your old, boring selves in no time if you were to seek the truth or pursue a path of reckless liberation." She walked over the two with a subdued swagger. "Besides, we won't have to make you join us, because we already know you want to join us."

Bubbler and Lady Wifi and bent a knee apiece and lowered their backs in unison.

"No," Angkoro said, "let's do things the proper way. Welcome to the club as junior partners, not minions."

Lady Wifi and Bubbler stood up and stuck out their gloved hands and found their fingers clinching the metal-covered joints of the Anticorains. They grinned at the birth of their new league with only the emptiness around them to serve witness of their union.

---

Le Grand Paris feasted itself off the weary travelers that filled it rooms and hallways in search of rest. Six youth achieved that dream inside the red walls of the world-famous Suite 36, scattered about like spilled rice on a countertop. Each of the six wore pajamas that reflected their favorite teams. Ash sat next to round table in the middle of the suite with her leg stretched out, while Ricky sat beside her, his arm draped across her back. Both of them held their NFL Tabs their hands. Across from them was Tua, who hung his head in shame as he stared at his NFL Tab. Troy splayed his body against the large bed along the wall, not bothering to take off the bed comforter, while Marty stood by the door as he twisted the cracked NFL-R. Ish was the only one standing at one of the windows and viewing the night sky.

Tua read the screen and replayed the French sentence that appeared on it. He took in a long, slow breath to steady his nerves.

"Bonjour," Tua began, "Je m'appelle..." He paused. The syllables were labored and forced, not even sounding like words at all. "I just don't get French."

"Well, you won't have to worry about it," Marty replied. He walked over to Tua and handed him the NFL-R. "It works."

"I thought it was broken," Tua said.

"I've dropped my phone enough times to know it always looks worse than what it is."

Tua inspected the NFL-R. Cracks still lined the glass on the display. He slipped it on his left wrist and stood up.

"It's banged up on the outside," Marty continued. "But the translator app still works. It just got bumped to the wrong setting. Everything else should work, too."

"Enter the Rush Zone!" Tua shouted as his fingers twisted the watch face.

Blue light spilled out the watched, and electricity passed over him as he was covered in white armor traced with a blue light at the edges. Under his armor was a coat of darker blue, skintight material, and his head was covered with a football helmet. After his transformation was completed, he pressed the button on the back his left wrist and returned to his unpowered, pajama-clad form.

"Thanks, Marty," Tua said before taking another breath and switching his sight to the various spots where his teammates were situated. "I'm sorry, guys. I let you down."

Ish broke his stationary silence and crossed the room to face Tua. He put his right hand on Tua's shoulder.

"Don't sweat it, Tiny," Ish assured, "I've been there."

"Most of us have been there," Ricky replied. That Tua had become akumatized meant he was the latest Guardian to have fallen under the control of a bad figure. Only Marty and Troy had remained untouched in that regard.

"Look!" Ash shouted as she turned her pad toward Tua. On screen were several paragraphs of text framed by a red and black background at the edge of the screen. "There's an entire topic about people dealing with being akumatized. It even happened to the creator of the Ladyblog herself. I wish this had been around when I was under Sudden Death's spell."

"If I ever got akumatized," Marty said, "I'd want the power to make sure the Cleveland Browns win the Super Bowl."

"I don't think even Hawk Moth is that powerful," Troy shot back from across the suite, not even bothering to sit up.

Everyone, including Marty, laughed. All of them Marty was least likely that would attract an akuma. The boy radiated positive energy like the sun emitted sunlight.

A different sort of light, cold and blue, shined from the watches of the six. Troy rolled off the bed and crossed the room as the pair of Ricky and Ash stood up. A beeping alarm came before the projection of R.Z.'s head and shoulders hovered above the watches. Ish turned up the volume on his watch as the others muted theirs so R.Z. would speak in one direction and a singular voice.

"Guardians, what is the status of the mission?" R.Z. asked.

"We haven't seen any Anticorians or come across any Anticorian material," Ish reported.

"In addition," Tua added sheepishly, "I fell under Hawk Moth's control yesterday."

"That...is to be expected," said R.Z.

"It is?"

"As new arrivals, you would be highly susceptible to the machinations of Hawk Moth. Tua, I implore you to focus any regret into resolve. As with any gametime error, it is best to have a short memory. In the interim, there is a second assignment." In the brief pause between R.Z.'s words, Tua felt his confidence solidify from the reassurance.

"Ish and Ricky," R.Z. continued, "as the captains, it is imperative for you to meet with the local heroes so that you may determine a working strategy."

"But why can't all of us go?" Troy asked.

"Troy's right," Tua chimed in with a rebounded boldness. "Meeting with them as the six of us would show we are true heroes."

"R.Z.," Ash added, "my ankle is feeling better. I might be able to stand on it."

"Ash," R.Z. replied, "while your Core levels are high enough to allow you to transform, doing so will deplete your energy and extend your recovery time. I highly recommend that you at least let your body heal until tomorrow. By tomorrow night this time you will be as good as new. Do not rush your recovery."

The red-headed girl looked down. She yearned to meet Ladybug in her Guardian form of PK2. Their brief encounter with Ash as a teenager reinforced her helplessness. If Ladybug were no damsel in distress, then neither was Ash.

"Likewise," R.Z. continued, "Tua, while you are eager to redeem yourself, it is best to take this time to reflect and to learn a little French. In addition, it would make a poor show for us to have all Guardians to surround our would-be allies."

"How are we going to meet them?" Ricky asked. "It's not like they have a signal."

"We have devised a way to get in touch with them discreetly without compromising their identities. There are multiple contacts overseas who can pass along a message without being traced. You will receive the location as soon as we can confirm they are en route."

Ish briefly wondered about both the use of the word "we" and the mentioned contacts. The only permanent European contacts they had were those in London which helped with the International games; Paris was yet uncharted ground for the Guardians or the NFL since R.Z. 6.0 had been in existence. His father wasn't stationed in France. That R.Z.'s network was larger than he realized filled him with hope; as a Guardian he would never truly be alone, even on the other side of the world.

"Gotcha," Ish replied, accepting the orders. The head and shoulders of R.Z. scattered into nothingness as did the accompanying light. Ish returned to the window with Ricky joining him as they waited, the night sky also anticipating their flight.

---

Three flatscreen monitors with three different displays faced Adrien at his desk. An open notebook of handwritten, solved mathematical equations sat to the left of him, with the open book of problems to the right and his cell phone resting on the side. He had already completed his homework and checked it twice, while his attention volleyed from one screen to the other in front of him. The Ladyblog's article comments were plastered on the left, with search results for today's events in the middle screen, while video and several chat services displayed on the right monitor.

Despite the visual overload, his knowledge was at a deficit. There were only brief textual accounts of the afternoon's events, no pictures or video footage to be found. Had Adrien not been there for the fight, he might have assumed it was fabricated. His mind slipped into a side train of thought, recalling the Parisians who had never encountered a supervillain directly, only knowing of them through collateral damage and obstacles. If this happened to be what a city of supervillains looked to them, anecdotes and inexplicable phenomena with nothing but akuma alerts and the threat of Hawk Moth to make a bad day worse, he would have nothing but fear. Even movie monsters and villains were more predictable than the direct but unexpected threat of a supervillain that could show up at any time.

Plagg flew over to his owner, carrying a piece of Camembert for himself and taking swift but precise bites.

"Are you still obsessed with finding out who Ladybug is under the mask?" Plagg asked in between his chews.

"I'm looking for more information about those new heroes," Adrien replied. "Judging from the blog there hasn't been any discussion about the new heroes, either."

"Maybe you were too fast for the news crew to get there," Plagg reasoned. "Sounds like you're turning into a glory hound."

"But people usually post videos of these incidents, unless they're somehow being blocked."

"Who knows? Some men in dark suits and sunglasses may have erased all evidence of today's attack."

"It's not just that. Nino isn't answering his texts, and I haven't heard anything from Alya since that last text she sent." He swiveled in his chair and slouched slightly. "Marinette's worried too. She hasn't heard from either of them."

Plagg chewed on a piece of Camembert at the mention of Marinette's name. In mid-bite, the alarm of another incoming text sounded. Adrien picked up his phone and read that the sender was an unknown number and unsaved contact. He opened the text message.

"'Rendezvous at Arc de Triumphe,'" Adrien read aloud, not believing the words he saw. "Signed 'Guardian Bug.'" His eyes started to shine and he straightened up. "Could Ladybug have finally figured out who I am? Maybe she changed her mind about us not knowing each other's identities." He gasped as he spoke his thoughts aloud. "Maybe the boy she likes is me, and if so-"

"No, no, no!" Plagg cried as he zoomed over to Adrien, dropping the piece of cheese. "It could be a trap. Isn't this a little too convenient?"

Adrien extended his breathing. It was rare for Plagg to display any form of concern. The last time Plagg had been this worked up, the kwami was right. Adrien had to trust him.

"You're right," Adrien answered in a deflated defeat. "I'll be careful."

Plagg outwardly sighed, grateful for the misattribution of his panic. HIs owner had already started connecting the dots. Had Adrien put together the puzzle, Plagg would have risked having to say goodbye to his owner forever. Instead, Adrien shouted the familiar phrase to put him to work.

"Plagg, claws out!"

In a green flash, Adrien changed into Cat Noir and pounced out of the window and into the night, hoping to find his lady.

---

Marinette sat at her bed, working a pair of knitting needles and a string of yellow yarn. Knitting would help her calm, or at least she had thought when she began this scarf. It was a simple pattern, no additional colors needed other than the sunflower-petal hued sting. Tikki carried the ball of yarn as she hovered, slowly feeding it to Marinette and making sure it did not roll to the floor below.

Marinette growled in frustration as her fingers slipped and she missed a stitch. She dropped the metal sticks and unfinished scarf on her bed, and Tikki zipped past her with the ball of yarn to set it down. Marinette picked up the source of anxiety, her smartphone. Her worry only became embedded with every passing moment, as she was losing the game against her own self-control. She quickly went to her text messages and opened began to tap her thumbs against the keyboard that appeared.

"Have you heard anything else from Alya?" she wrote and sent.

"No," came the answer from Adrien with a notification. Marinette let her arm fall and released her phone onto her covers. Concern weighed down Tikki's face and limbs, including the three appendages that made Tikki's tails.

Out of nowhere, another notification drilled through the air and Marinette picked up the phone. She mouthed the words aloud as if under their spell.

"'The Arc de Triumphe is where I will be,'" she read. "'A friend of a friend,' signed 'Rooftop Kitty.'"

"Marinette," Tikki called.

"Could Cat Noir have figured out I'm Ladybug?" Marinette felt her life leave her to the realm of the trance, being too overwhelmed to panic. Instead her mind crafted an image of Cat Noir crouched on her balcony, handing her a rose. Tikki flew in front of her to bring her back to the present.

"Maybe if you call the number back you'll get more answers."

Marinette nodded and tapped the screen, bringing up the option to call the messenger back. She pressed the phone icon, then picked up the phone and held it up to her ear. After a few rings, she heard a click.

"You have reached the office for the Bureau of the Interception of Creatures after hours," answered a pre-recorded female voice. "Please leave-"

Marinette hung up the phone with a resigned, careful press. With each breath her lethargy dissipated and unfurled, and Marinette's mind began to buzz with contemplation.

"Maybe Cat Noir figured out a way to contact me from a remote line," she said before shaking her head. "No, this has to be a trap. Cat Noir would never be so indirect."

"Even if it's not Cat Noir," Tikki responded. ,"you have to check it out."

"You're right." Marinette smiled with a renewed confidence and determination. "Tikki, spots on!"

Pink light enveloped her and in a blink, Marinette was Ladybug. In moments, the crimson-clad heroine swung through the Parisian air, full of a mixture of suspicion and hope. She propelled herself in a zig-zag pattern under clouds formed a slight purple haze under the city-lit sky. As she neared her destination, she mentally prepared herself to wait for Cat Noir. Her partner was usually one minute late whenever they had a rendezvous. As she neared the flat surface of the Arc de Triumphe, her eyes widened as all her preconceptions crumbled.

Cat Noir was sitting on its edge, waiting on her.

The sight stunned her so much that she dropped down unsteadily near the edge. She landed without balancing, but she could feel the clumsiness of Marinette just peeking through her sure-footed steps. Ladybug shook her head. She needed to focus, and she quickly covered any lingering nervousness with genuine concern.

"I didn't mean to make you wait," Ladybug explained.

"No," Cat Noir countered, "you're right on time, as always."

"No cutting remark or easy pun?" Ladybug raised the eyespots on her mask. "You must be serious."

"I have a long day tomorrow," he admitted. For a second Ladybug detected a phantom sadness, but her partner quickly changed his expression to his casual confident ease. "So what did you want to see me about?"

"Me? You were the one who asked to meet me here."

Cat Noir caught his own tongue as he lifted his head to the sky, and Ladybug followed suit without thinking. Both of them watched the streaks of blue and white trail through the sky and growing closer by the second. Both heroes took a defensive stance as the streaks became objects and the objects became armored figures emitting the noise of a jet engines. The two armored men in white, one with a secondary color of blue and the other with a secondary color of red, slowed and landed beside them at the monument.

To Ladybug and Cat Noir, only their colors and the respective designations on their helmets - QB1 and QB6 - distinguished them. Yet, neither of the two newcomers considered themselves by their call signs; their enemies knew their names as did most of their allies; it was only with outsiders such as these or in public they would even adopt the pretense of their call signs; the two Guardians couldn't see each other as anything but Ish and Ricky.

"Sorry we're late," Ricky said.

"Did you send the text messages?" Cat Noir asked.

"No, but I think a certain friend of ours was responsible," Ish replied.

"Then your friend should know not to play tricks on us," Ladybug replied her irritation spiked. It was easier to accept their faceless aid during an imminent threat, but with now she wished she could see their eyes.

"There were three of you today," Cat Noir noticed. "Where is your partner?"

"Back at base," Ish answered.

"Why are you here in Paris?" Ladybug asked.

"We're here because we were looking for a special type of material," Ish explained. "It's from another world. We're going to canvas the city starting tomorrow night."

"So if you see some people looking like us flying around," Ricky added, "they're not supervillains, just part of our team."

"Did you need our help?" Ladybug asked, her prior resistance crumbling in the face of a problem.

"Thanks for the offer," Ish replied, "but we can handle this. Just to let you know those pieces of jewelry you're wearing are giving off a lot of energy. They might throw off our scans if you're too close."

"You mean the Miraculous?"

"Yeah, it's very similar to the energy we're looking for."

"Hey!" Cat Noir shouted. "Hawk Moth wears a Miraculous, too. With your scanners you can sniff out his Miraculous."

"Our scanners only have a range of 300 feet." Ish and Ricky nodded their heads. "If we come across him, though, we'll let you know, without any more tricks. We have an app for that. See?" a display arose from his wrist displaying the identifiers LB1 and CN2 alongside their headshots. "You're added to our contacts and we should be added to yours."

Ladybug removed her yo-yo from her hip and slid it open as Cat Noir revealed the phone interface in his staff. The identifiers QB1 and QB6 were listed as contacts with a headshot of each of them by their respective monikers.

"How do you know so much about the Miraculous?"

"It seems to be similar to the technology we use, and we picked up a lot from the Ladyblog," Ricky said. "By the way, that thing has been awfully quiet."

"You noticed it, too?" Ladybug asked.

"Definitely. I'd be worried about my friends if they went silent."

"We all have DNA scanner apps," Ish offered. "If you needed to check in on them, we can."

Ladybug and Cat Noir did not answer, as their faces displayed pure amazement mixed with horror.

"DNA?" Cat Noir asked. "Does that mean you know who we are?"

"Don't worry," Ish said, "we're not going to blab. At least let us show you we can be trusted."

"No!" Ladybug shouted immediately. "You can't show or tell us your identities. It's too dangerous!"

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Cat Noir said. Ladybug replied with a perturbed expression. The hidden faces of the other heroes were betrayed by their body language and backed away.

"It's cool," Ish said. "We get it. We're here to help, so if you need a hand, give a holler."

The two helmeted heroes blasted off and flew away into the night sky, leaving Ladybug and Cat Noir to themselves.

"They seem trustworthy," Cat Noir mentioned. "Maybe you should have let them tell us who they are."

Ladybug was dismayed by his openness, especially to two figures that were connected to an unknown text sent to her personal phone. It was that same naivete which first led him to get tricked by Volpina. He was also the same one to see through Volpina's later trick with Adrien when she had fallen for it. These heroes could have done so much worse with their identities than simply send a text message even if they were lying, and the exchange student had insisted they were heroes.

"We can't take that chance, not even with each other," Ladybug answered as she firmed herself against her own inner doubts, "let alone with outsiders. But they are right. There should have been much more news about three new superheroes in Paris and today's attack on the Ladyblog."

"Searching for yourself on your own fan blog?" Cat Noir teased. "Maybe I should call you glory hound?"

"Cat Noir!"

"I am disappointed this text really wasn't from you." Ladybug's momentary annoyance was washed away and replaced with sympathy. "I'd have liked a different sort of rendezvous, but I'm glad to meet, even if it wasn't planned, milady."

"Thank you, Cat Noir." She gave him a smile of friendly affection as she stepped away from him. "Good luck with whatever you have to do tomorrow!"

His heart rose; she had remembered his offhand complaint and listened to it as the true friend she was. She rose away with a single bound and threw her yo-yo, soaring like a fairy in night the air rather than a superhero. He admired her elegance before he began leaping and bounding away himself, eagerly awaiting the next emergency where they would meet again.

---

Bubbler was quiet. The sting of his defeat had deadened his tongue, but he was no less peeved. He had expected the Anticorians to give him a weapon or a power-up, but instead they were giving him a lecture. Lady Wifi, by contrast, eagerly absorbed the information and interjected with excited sighs and noises. She was genuinely eager to learn.

"The bracelets also allow for a holographic overlay," Angkoro said, finally catching Bubbler's attention. "With the built-in image inducer, you can make yourself appear as your former selves with a single concentrated thought. Try it for yourselves."

Lady Wifi and Bubbler closed their eyes and issued the mental command. A flash of yellow-orange static waved over them, and their appearances were those of Alya and Nino. They repeated the thought and in return they they went back to their supervillain selves.

"It's an improvement from our previous versions where the only way to appear normal was to power down," Angkoro continued. "That would prove...problematic."

Lady Wifi felt a rising wave in the back of her mind and heard the traces of a conscience screaming. The same freedom the Anticorians gave also meant that her former self could not be completely submerged. If Lady Wifi were to power down, her inner self would reject the bracelet and make sure it was destroyed. Her current self wouldn't have that. She was not going back to being Alya. These Anticorians had freed her in a way Hawk Moth never could. She would just deal with the mental noise until it died down again.

"However, only one image can be loaded at a time," Stellaria explained, "and we are the only ones who know how to calibrate this."

"When you are in disguise mode, the bracelets are cloaked," Angkoro added, "but still present. While they can be hidden from the naked eye and recording devices, a specialized scan can reveal them...and your true forms."

"Anyone in particular I should be worried about?" Lady Wifi asked.

"You seek the truth," Stellaria said. "We can provide it. Those Americans in your class are Guardians. They wear specialized jewelry in the form of watches. Does this sound familiar?"

"Are they Miraculouses?"

"The principles at play are similar, but there are no kwamis to power the transformation. Instead, they utilize an energy source known as the Core. Because those students were born with an innate connection to the Core, they are able to tap into that source."

"So," Bubbler chimed in, "it's not something everyone can have fun with. How boring."

"How stratified, indeed," Angkoro declared. "That's why Anticorian technology is superior. We do not make arbitrary distinctions when it comes to who can use our tools."

"We believe who is the most cunning deserves to be rewarded," Stellaria said "And anyone can be cunning if they put their mind to it. Not everyone can be gifted."

"Of course, there are those who took advantage of our generosity, such as Wild Card."

"What's a Wild Card?" Lady Wifi asked.

"Let me show you." Angkoro pointed to a rounded screen which showed a gray and black armored figure fighting similar figures in white armor. The gray figure carried a glowing football. "He and the Guardians are at odds with each other, but they are birds of a feather. That's why it seems Wild Card has taken your friend hostage, Bubble Boy."

"It's 'Bubbler,'" the teenager corrected.

"Like the Guardians, this man also has human name," Stellaria explained. "Warren Zimmer."

The screen showed a man in a red jacket with graying hair, and both Bubbler and Lady Wifi were flushed with recognition.

"He was the guy following Cat Noir," Lady WiFi stated.

"This is all public knowledge," Angkoro said. "Since you fancy yourself a reporter, I would have expected you to have already done the research."

Lady Wifi responded with a slight folding of her eye mask.

"Wild Card seeks an alliance with your former boss and has positioned himself in employ of Gabriel Agreste," Stellaria added, "using his son - your friend - as a bargaining chip."

Bubbler began to boil with anger, and Lady Wifi tapped his glove with her own to bring him down to a simmer as her own face softened.

"It would be our pleasure to get rid of him," Lady Wifi stated.

"Which is precisely why you will not," Angkoro responded.

"No way!" Bubbler rejected.

"This is not up for negotiation. If we were capable of taking on Wild Card, we would not need your help, just as you would not need ours in order to exist as you do. You two have our last bracelets, so we cannot afford a single mistake. We have to play this carefully."

"Go to bed," Stellaria ordered, "get up, go to school as you normally would in disguise, and try to act as much as your former selves as possible. Do not engage the Guardians in your class. We will meet you tomorrow afternoon for more instructions."

"We could get rid of everyone for you with one swipe," Lady Wifi protested.

"Remember how easily you fell against three of us. Fighting the Guardians or Wild Card would turn you back to the way you were in no time. Use your head, protect your actual friends, and keep your enemies even closer."

Zich returned to the area with heavy steps and a tablet in his hand. He rested it on the ground with the screen facing the ceiling.

"We've turned on the Wi-Fi," Stellaria continued. Lady Wifi immediately turned her phone screen towards her and grinned as the icons shined like headlights.

Zich spoke in his intelligible grunts.

"What?" Bubbler asked.

"Zich says," Stellaria translated. "'Don't forget your phone.''" Stellaria extended her hand with Nino's phone and gave it to Bubbler. He and Lady Wifi walked over to the tablet. They both jumped over the tablet as if sealing their union, and as they passed overhead, its screen cast light all over the sewers. At once the light dissolved their forms in a pattern of white rectangles, then itself faded.

"I'm surprised that you did not tell them the whole truth," Angkoro admitted.

"Right now it is useful for them to only be aware of what we choose to reveal," Stellaria replied. "How often have we been fooled by those who kept us in the dark? Besides, we may need more local allies. Having their secret identities revealed to our new hires would not help us get closer to what we want, but leveraging that information would be much more persuasive."

"Very clever, Stellaria."

Neither Angkoro nor Stellaria spoke further, letting the silence affirm their wordless promise that they would achieve their goals.

---

Marinette's eyes dried as they railed and were as pink as the walls in her room. In her pajamas, she sat at her desk and scanned the words on the monitor. Tikki rested on the desk in the opposite direction and chewed a macaroon. The header of the Ladyblog was atop the page on her monitor and she read article upon article, comment upon comment, with a ferocity she had not done in ages.

There was still nothing about the new heroes on the Ladyblog.

This wasn't right.

Although Alya had not answered Marinette's text, at least the Ladyblog had finally been updated with a blurb about the attack. The lack of evidence she found unsettled her. The news station had not gotten to the fight in time, but there were witnesses who would have uploaded their own accounts by now, either through visual media or even textual accounts.

Instead, aside from Alya's partial footage, there was no video of the account of the fight Ladybug had been in; were it not for that and the blurb, there would have been no evidence of the akumatization itself.

A buzz broke her attention away from the screen in front of her. With the image of her friend appearing on her smartphone, Marinette picked it up and answered it with a sweep of her thumb.

"Alya?" Marinette asked as she formed a pincer with the side of her head and her shoulder.

"Hey," replied the voice of her friend. "I wasn't sure if you were in bed yet."

"I'm fine. I was thinking of calling you. I hadn't heard from you since this afternoon and I was getting worried. The way the Ladyblog footage cut off I thought something happened."

"Nothing but encoding issues. By the way, I just had an idea on how to beat Hawk Moth without Ladybug's help!"

Tikki turned away from her macaroon and locked her eyes on Marinette, who did the same to Tikki.

"Tell me," Marinette said into the phone.

"Remember when Manon got akumatized into Puppeteer and could control people with her dolls?" Alya asked.

"Yeah."

"What if she had a Hawk Moth doll? Then instead of being ordered around by Hawk Moth, she could control him. Best of all, it would all be thanks to you, Marinette!"

"That is an interesting idea..."

"...but?"

"It's too risky." Marinette slumped in her seat. "If that happened, Puppeteer could get the Ladybug and Cat Noir dolls and take them over. Besides, she might turn you into Lady Wifi again."

"Oh."

"I think Ladybug and Cat Noir can come up with a plan to beat Hawk Moth without letting anyone become akumatized." Marinette nodded to Tikki, who smiled in approval.

The dialogue between teenagers dissolved and for the first time Marinette could remember, there was a quiet disquiet between them. The unease wrapped around Marinette and made her cough up a sentence to continue the conversation.

"It's a shame you only caught the beginning of the fight," Marinette began with a smirk.

"Yeah," Alya answered, "my phone and Nino's phone cut out at the end of the attack."

Marinette scrunched her eyelids and Tikki made a face that betrayed her bewilderment.

"Yeah," Marinette commented, "so you must have seen when Ladybug used her Lucky Charm to summon a lightbulb."

"Oh, you saw it?" Alya's question struck Marinette with the weight of a frying pan. "I didn't see how the fight ended."

Marinette's stomach turned. She had hoped to catch Alya in a lie and now she would have to compound her lie with half-truth.

"I didn't either," Marinette said. "I just heard about it. I didn't want to mention it, but I was hiding and I bumped into Adrien-"

"Oooh! Did you spill the beans?"

"I couldn't. He got hit by one of the supervillain's rays."

"You'll get him next time," came Alya's voice in a flat response.

Marinette expected an enthusiastic expression of disappointment. Alya's encouragement was artificial and hollow, as if she were a husk of a person without a core.

"Maybe you can tell me something," Marinette said to Alya.

"What did you want to know?"

Marinette stopped herself. She couldn't mention the heroes without contradicting herself. And if Alya were intercepting reports about the new heroes, she wouldn't admit it to Marinette.

"You'd let me know if you were in trouble, right," Marinette urged. "If something is bothering you, just let me know."

"Thanks," Alya replied, "but right now the only thing I need is a good night's sleep to recharge. See you tomorrow! Stay connected."

The call ended and Marinette's phone screen went back to black. Marinette set her phone down and turned to her kwami.

"See what I mean, Tikki?" Marinette asked. "Alya would never suggest anything that cruel. Just like Alya would never lie to me."

"She might not have been lying," Tikki responded. "You're the one who lied to try to trap her."

"Because something is wrong. What if she were akumatized as Lady Wifi again?"

"Lady Wifi was about exposing the truth, not hiding it."

"Maybe Lila is manipulating her somehow." Marinette stood up and walked away from her desk, and Tikki floated behind her. "Or maybe there's a supervillain that has her under his control."

"Marinette," Tikki called as she flew in front of the teenager, "if there is something wrong with Alya you'll get to the bottom of it, but right now you need your rest. Besides, she does have a point about that plan."

"You aren't seriously suggesting I make a Hawk Moth doll."

"Maybe it would help you clear your mind and your frustration. You know inspiration comes when you least expect it. Besides, it would make Manon's day to finally be able to play as him."

Marinette swallowed as she took herself up the ladder to her bed. Tikki flew over to the lamp and the monitor to turn them off, and then tucked Marinette into the bed after the girl reclined, ushering her into the land of sweet dreams.

---

Miss Bustier's class gobbled up students as it did the sunshine from the window. Six empty seats made the class seem like a barren garden which Miss Bustier tended in futility. Her usefulness was proven as the six Americans entered the classroom to fill in the bare seats.

As he walked in, Ish nodded at the section where Adrien, Nino, Marinette, and Alya sat. Adrien nodded back but Marinette gazed at Alya with worry, while Alya and Nino returned Ish's greeting with cold stares. Ish raised an eyebrow before sitting next to equally unreceptive Chloé.

Tua, Troy, and Marty entered behind him, unaware of the silent swap of expressions as they moseyed to their seats. However, the eyes of the class were on Ash who did not have a pair of crutches. Instead, she walked unaided beside Ricky at the tail of the group.

"Ash," Miss Bustier said, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Thank you," the red-headed girl answered. She walked with only a slight limp to the back of the classroom, then took her seat with her partner.

"Good morning, class," Miss Bustier said to those in attendance.

"Good morning, Miss Bustier!" they replied.

"Now remember, class," she added for the benefit of the Americans, "we begin each day with a compliment to your neighbor." She gestured to Adrien and Nino to start the round.

"Nino," Adrien said as he turned to his friend, "you've got an ear for music and an eye for direction."

"Adrien," Nino replied, "you can make anything look good, especially when you're not cooped up."

Miss Bustier are tilted her head slightly and her gaze was on Marinette and Alya.

"Alya," Marinette admitted with a smile, "you're always so honest and supportive."

For a second, Marinette spotted a slight crack in the mask of Alya's face. It was a brief microexpression that couldn't be seen but intuited, but it caught Marinette's notice nonetheless.

"Marinette," Alya said quickly, "you're creative and amazing eye for fashion."

Miss Bustier directed her attention to the rest of the class, skipping Ivan as he sat by himself, and making her way to the back row. Ash and Ricky had sweet comments as did Tua and Troy, while Marty and Kim praised their athleticism. Mylene and Alix gave praise to the hair of each other, leading to the final two pairs of nice words.

"Chloé," Ish said, "your eyebrows are on fleek."

"Ish," Chloé replied with her nose in the air, "you are only as half as annoying as you were yesterday."

"I think that's enough for the compliments for now," Miss Bustier said. "Today we are going to discuss another of The Lais of Maris de France. This one is 'Bisclavaret.'"

"Oh-oh-oh!" Marty yelled, standing up. "I know this one!"

"Marty," Miss Bustier replied, "I'm surprised. This was not required reading for exchange students, but go on."

"You bet, Miss B! This is the story of a werewolf. One night, he took off his clothes and he transformed into a wolf, so his wife hid his clothes so he couldn't change back into a human and she cheated on him."

The class murmured at the synopsis with anticipation.

"Very good, Marty," Miss Bustier declared.

"How did you know that?" Troy asked his teammate.

"Harper told me about it after I played through one of his old video games," Marty explained. "He even let me read it, even if it got a little gory. Of course, if there's anything about even close to dogs, I just love it!"

Marty followed his words with a pattern of barks that drew him confused and disgusted stares. He let off a nervous laugh then sat down.

"Inside joke," Marty said and his enthusiasm sublimed into shame. "Sorry, got carried away."

"I also studied it last year when I was being tutored," Adrien admitted. His remark helped divert attention away from the American, although his earnest words were cloaked in blissful unawareness.

"It's good that you're both familiar with the material," Miss Bustier said. "That mean you two have an edge in the assignment I have for the class."

The students filled the room with groans.

"Not yet," Miss Bustier shot back. "We still have to go through the basics of the poem for everyone else. Now, does anyone other than Adrien or Marty have anything to add?"

Marinette's mind had shifted to the image of her father as Weredad. She had not seen him at the time he had been transformed, but she had seen his representation in Gamer 2.0's video game. A slight prick of guilt hit her as she recalled her role in his akumatization.

"Marinette," Miss Bustier called, "you look as if you wanted to say something."

"I can't help but wonder if being under a werewolf curse is like akumatization," Marinette said.

"What type of lame question is that?" Chloé blurted out.

Adrien wanted to chime in about the akumatization of Marinette's father but stopped himself. He hadn't been around for either the prologue or the actual fight. Cat Noir had.

"Actually," Miss Bustier declared. "Marinette does have a point concerning duality and the nature of magical transformation, which is common in folklore. As we will see in this lai, though, it's not quite the same. In summary, despite the change in his form and behavior, Bisclavret does retain his alignment, unlike akumatized villains."

"Ah, so he's more like a superhero with a secret identity," Ish remarked, "or a star athlete, but the same person inside and outside the uniform."

"You could see it that way. When comparing this story with our local heroes and villains, Bisclavret does have a figure in his life who convinces another person to steal what Bisclavret needs." Miss Bustier began to write the characters of the poem on the chalkboard and drew lines between them. "His wife. And you could say she is a duplicitous, double-dealing figure. So maybe Hawk Moth did take a page from this lai when it comes to demanding the Miraculouses. Very astute observations, class. I suggest you save them for the homework assignment. Let's get back to the overview."

The words eased Marinette's heart. Miss Bustier had given her praise and tied her and Ish's observation into the lesson. The rest of the lecture was more informational, as it was a plot summary. Miss Bustier concluded the period with her assignment.

"Compare and contrast the idea of love using 'Guigenar,' 'Bisclavret,' and another poem from the lai in a three-page essay," Miss Bustier declared as the members class picked up their belongings.

Marinette placed her materials in her bag but Alya had already left with Nino beside her. Marinette stepped into the hall and to the side and stared at the two of them walking together. She turned her head and beside her was Adrien who also watched the pair.

"Adrien!" she cried. "I didn't notice you were using a stand, I mean, barely standing, I mean, standing there."

"I wasn't standing here until just now," he answered. "I wanted to ask you something."

Marinette found herself swallow an invisible peach pit that plunged into her stomach. Her heart pounded and her face made an uncontrollable nervous grin.

"Did Nino seem a little off to you?" Adrien asked quietly.

Instantly the blood drained from her face and her mind sharpened into a pencil-tipped focus. She reflected on Nino in class a few minutes ago. she had picked up a few things about his demeanor that not consistent with his persona. He seemed a little bit too close to Adrien, not in the friendly easy way of his normal self but with a slightly protective edge. It was subtle and the only thing that made it noticeable was that Alya hadn't responded to it.

"I did," Marinette mentioned. "I noticed Alya was acting a little strange, too."

"Maybe it's a couples thing?"

"Or maybe it's our new classmates." Her eyes darted over to the group of six, who stood in a huddle. "They seem so nice, and given one of them got akumatized yesterday, I don't think they're bad."

"I don't think they're bad, but Lila got akumatized, too, so that's no guarantee." Adrien stopped as the girl he talked to made a pained face as she became still. "Marinette, what is it?"

"They're looking at us!" Her eyes followed the subject of her words, and Adrien turned to the group which approached them. "They know we're talking about them."

Marinette barely got the words out before the group of Americans were in earshot. The six of them stopped a person's length away from Marinette and Adrien.

"Hey, what's up?" Ish asked.

Neither Marinette nor Adrien were easy liars but Adrien was able to construct a mask of collected calm. Marinette, by contrast, responded with the grace of a malfunctioning robot.

"We were just talking about you," Marinette admitted.

"Chloé said something about you staying at the hotel?" Adrien covered.

"Yeah," Ish explained, "we got a suite there."

"I have a function there tonight. There's a charity auction featuring items from Tibet."

"I guess you'll be going with Kagami," Marinette said to Adrien.

"No, not this time. It will just be me and a bunch of people my father knows in the fashion business."

"I wonder if we can drop with our sponsor and liven things up," Marty suggested.

"Don't even try it!" demanded a new voice.

The group all turned to the newcomer, Chloé, who wore her usual disapproving scowl.

"Security is going to be at its highest," she continued. "If any of you Americans even come within breathing distance of the wait staff, I will have you thrown out of daddy's hotel."

She walked away and headed towards the entrance of the building. Sabrina quickly joined her and the two of them disappeared into the light.

"What is her problem?" Troy asked.

"Beats me," Ricky said. "We have too much studying to do anyway. Not all of us have big brothers who have hookups." He elbowed Marty playfully.

"See you after lunch," Ish said. He and the other Americans walked away. Adrien let the six students head outdoors before he separated from Marinette.

"Look out for Nino and Alya," Adrien said to Marinette, "please."

Marinette nodded and Adrien walked away and onto the front steps. It was only after he was out of earshot that she understood her chance to confess her feelings had passed.

---

Sunlight tumbled into the atelier and onto the shoulders of Warren Zimmer. The man's brown and gray hair was offset by the black tuxedo on his body and a white shirt under his suit coat. With a black bowtie and black shoes, he felt exposed. He hated wearing an outfit not of his choosing, and the clothes suffocated him with formality.

By contrast, Gabriel Agreste constrained his emotions but walked with freedom. Gabriel had gotten closer to Warren then the latter would have liked. Thankfully the suit was a near perfect fit. Instead of fiddling with last-minute alterations, Gabriel circumambulated Warren to inspect it.

"Are you going to pace all day?" Warren asked Gabriel.

"You will be accompanying my son," the thinner man answered, "and I cannot afford to have him or anyone associated with him look anything but spectacular."

"Looking spectacular is his job. What do you want me to do at this auction?"

"There is a specific item I require you to win." Gabriel stopped walking. "I will inform you of both the item and the amount that is to be bid tonight. Do not deviate from my instructions."

"And to think that I would get to go shopping," Warren remarked.

"Do what you will with your own money, but it is imperative that is this item be legally obtained and brought into my possession."

"This sounds like a job you can easily do yourself, but if I get a free tux out of this, it might be worth my while to do it."

"Then do it right."

Gabriel turned his back and walked away from Warren, who stifled the urge to respond. He wouldn't be able to see this play out if gave into his rebellious desires. After all, he couldn't double cross anyone unless he aligned with them first. He left the room as Gabriel stood at his workstation and the daylight cast shadows of distrust onto the floor.

---

Brown circular halls parted by wastewater bordered the underground lair of the Anticorians. The smooth walls were a stark cry from the caverns they had previously used as lairs, as the faint noise of the city served as background music to their machinations. Despite this, the sewers had quickly wormed their way into their hearts. Zich, Angkoro, and Stellaria attended to separate vertical consoles in armor adorned with golden gears and rivets.

The tablet they had placed in the center of their lair last night let out a high-pitched hum. Lady Wifi and Bubbler appeared in a flash, and the three Anticorians surrounded them.

"How was school today?" Stellaria asked, her bob swaying slightly.

"Boring," Bubbler answered.

"Good," Angkoro said.

"By the way, I was able to suggest to my friend to make something that might be of use," Lady Wifi said.

"Hmm," Stellaria responded, "we did not tell you to do that. You're showing initiative. We like that. You can tell us more later."

"Presently, there is a more pressing matter." Angkoro explained. "Tonight there is the unveiling of an object that is critical to our plans. However, it seems that we have not been invited to this event."

Angkoro directed the eyes of Lady Wifi and Bubbler to the screen at which he had been previously stationed. It displayed video of Nadja Chamack in the news studio as she faced the camera.

"Don't be bemused," Nadja said. "It's just the news. All of Paris is gearing up for tonight's gala for the elite to display their fashion at Le Grand Paris. This charity event is a fundraiser featuring artifacts of Tibetan origins."

The teenagers were fixated upon at the footage of Le Grand Paris that played on the screen. They did not see or hear Zich trudge away.

"That's where Adrien is going," Bubbler said.

"That means Wild Card will be there," Lady Wifi stated, turning to Angkoro and Stellaria, "and the Guardians are staying there, too. Why can't we just take on the enemy ourselves?"

"We could totally get what you want and get Adrien away from that Wild Card," Bubbler finished.

"And what will happen when you make your appearance?" Angkoro asked. "You will have alerted our enemies. They will then trace you and your paramour back to us. Besides, you have another job."

Zich returned to the group and carried a pile of blue-green, segmented spheres in his massive hands. He grunted before holding them out to the teenagers.

"He says to take them," Stellaria translated. "These Blitz Borgs will emerge once thrown onto the ground. Go to the Eiffel Tower once it gets dark and set them free, from a distance."

Bubbler swatted his bubble wand to manifest a green bubble around the collection of balls, separating it from Zich's grasp. It floated in midair, resembling the globe of a gumball machine.

"But if you want us to release these Blitz Borgs tonight, won't that reveal that we are here?" Lady Wifi asked the Anitcorians.

"You still don't understand the concept of a fake," Angkoro said, "The Blitz Borgs are our calling card, but they are not our attack. You will make sure they are elsewhere while we take care of the target."

"We need this to heist to go off without a hitch," Stellaria explained. "The Blitz Borgs will be a distraction, deployed as a precaution. Even if Wild Card does not know we are already here, he will soon find out. He can find out just as long as he does not know where we are."

"You will be needed at the Eiffel Tower. Just stick to the plan."

Lady Wifi brought her upper lip to her nose in disgust, as Bubbler formed crescents with his eyes and looked to the sky. This was worse than the homework they had been assigned.

---

The white limousine was driven smoothly by the gorilla-shaped bodyguard. Warren Zimmer sat across from Adrien, both of them in dark, formal suits. Adrien, instead of wearing a tuxedo, wore a dark suit with a peak lapel and black trim. Instead, Warren's thoughts returned to the phone which contained the instructions from his boss.

"The Garnet Gean," read the text message from Gabriel, along with the bid he was to put in. Warren dared not count the zeroes behind the price. He planned to copy and paste the amount when the opportunity presented itself to him. That this silent auction was virtual disappointed him. Warren could have hacked the Wi-Fi to read the bids, but he contented himself with doing it as his employer instructed.

Instead, he switched the open application on his phone to the website for the event, which showed the various items. One item up for bid was in such disrepair that he couldn't be certain if it were a rusted bracelet or a choker. Still some fool would put in a bid for it simply because it was linked to Tibet. He had also read something about a monster from Tibet that terrorized Paris a few months ago. It reminded him of something out of an old horror movie.

After scrolling through the items, he found a crimson concentration of hard material on display in a case. The "Garnet Gean" was a red gem that was rumored to bring good luck to all who held it. This was the gem that his boss wanted, and from looking at the picture, he could definitely tell it was Anticorian in origin. He would have to discreetly scan the item to be certain, something he could not do from this coffin on wheels.

His fellow corpse in this hearse also had his lips pressed shut, but he did not stare at his phone. Adrien peered out of the window, his gaze on those who happened to walk by under the street lights that turned on as they rode past.

"You're awfully quiet," Warren said. "Saving your voice for all that schmoozing?"

"I'm just wondering about my friends," Adrien replied. "Ever since yesterday, they've been acting funny."

Warren shifted his weight. Those Guardians might have started telling Adrien about his past at school. Not that Warren cared; this was just a waiting game. An isolated son manipulated by those closest to him filled Warren with a sense of deja vu, even if the boy in the car happened to be a superhero. After all, Warren chose power over family. Maybe this boy would do the same with his guidance.

"Funny, how?" Warren asked.

"I can't put my finger on it. There's something wrong. We got these new exchange students, and I can't help but wonder that's the reason why my friends are acting strange. Then again, I'm new to this whole 'friend' deal. Other than Chloé I haven't had many friends."

He looked up at Warren, almost as if expecting the adult to reply that he was a friend. Warren withdrew physically and verbally.

"Like I said before," Warren replied, "I was antisocial." A wall quiet of quickly rose between them.

"At least you won't be too far away from your room," Adrien said, and a hearty laugh burst from Warren's mouth.

"Do you think I get to stay at a swanky place like Le Grand Paris?" he asked.

"So, where are you staying?"

"I've got a place on the Seine." The thought of the Electronic Exploratory Lab jabbed him with pride. "It's more affordable."

"Are you by yourself?"

"I have a roommate. We have an arrangement. He stays out of my way." Not that Drop Kick could get in his way being fixed to the E.E.L. itself, Warren added in his head.

"I don't think I'd like living like that." He looked down into the inside of his jacket for a second. "Part of having a roommate would be spending time together. It sounds lonely."

Warren did not get a chance to retort as the limousine slowed, then stopped. Adrien plastered on a smile that was as practiced as it was warm. The bodyguard quickly got out of the limousine and walked around it, and opened the door for Adrien, who stepped out of the vehicle and into the inviting flashes of cameramen. Warren slid out behind him and the two walked into Le Grand Paris.

In the lobby, the two met the end of a line bordered by a pair of velvet ropes and golden posts. They stepped forward slowly until they were face-t-face with two sentries. A dark-haired man in a tuxedo stood on one side, while Roger Raincomrpix stood sternly across from him. Adrien recognized the other man as Chloé's butler, and the man held out a pouch in front of Adrien.

"Your phone," he stated. "This is to ensure fair competition. Only the bidders may have their phones to prevent collusion. I cannot grant any exceptions, not even for you, Monsieur Agreste."

Adrien reluctantly put his smartphone into the pouch, and the butler closed it up before handing it back to Adrien. It was as trapped in the darkness as Adrien was trapped in the lights of this event. He could not even count on Plagg to release the lock in an emergency, as the kwami would probably destroy the phone trying to unlock the pouch. He then looked at Warren, who pulled out his phone and scrolled on it, retreating to the business he had been sent here to do. And Adrien was all alone in the crowd around him, with no one to witness his silent solitude.

---

Workers and hotel representatives scurried about the floors below Suite 36, leaving the rented quarters to the six Americans within it. With much of the staff devoted to events below, the upper rooms were quiet except for these inhabitants.

In past, the six would have returned to the Hall of Knowledge to regroup for their debriefing. None of the parties involved liked to have long conversations via the NFL-R. With the current situation, it was a necessity. R.Z. had sprouted from their NFL-R like weeds, and even away from inquisitive eyes and ears they kept their words short due to the distance.

"With the information you have gathered," R.Z. stated, "it is imperative that you begin your search tonight. As a group I suggest that you break up into pairs to search for the source of the Anticorian signal. It would not be wise to go alone, given the ease Hawk Moth has shown in affecting one of our own. I leave it to you, Ish, to make the assignments as you best see fit."

"Understood," Ish replied.

The communication came to an abrupt and mutually decided end as R.Z.'s image was gone from the NFL-R.

"Ash," Ish ordered, "you and Tua patrol the Champs-Élysées. Ricky, go with Troy to the Louvre. Marty, you're with me as we'll check out Place des Vosges. We notify each other if we find anything."

The five others nodded, then all six lifted their NFL-Rs and fists in the air.

"Enter the Rush Zone!" the six shouted.

The familiar blue light broke through their watches and spread over their bodies. All six were now suited up with white football helmets as well as white chest pieces, armguards, and boots. Their eyes were veiled by visors, which also enhanced their perception. In front of each of them was a screen showing crosshairs at points of light under them. The text "MATCH CONFIRMED" appeared on the insides of their individual visors.

"Is anyone else seeing what I'm seeing?" Troy asked.

"Six matching energy signatures that are, like, right here at this hotel?" Marty added with his own rhetorical question.

"That can't be right," Ricky said. "Even if the Anticorians were here, that would be too many. There are only three of them."

"We do know of one source," Ash mentioned, "Adrien said he'd be here."

"Since it's showing up as six there must be a feedback echo from our scans," Ish concluded. "We need to spread out."

The group went over to the open window and jumped out of it. Twin blue engines appeared on the shoulders of the Guardians with a third engine sitting on top of the middle of their backs. The six flung themselves into the sky, oblivious of two fully armored onlookers from below.

"When the Guardians are away, the Anticorians will play," Stellaria remarked.

"A pity their friend did not go with them," Angkoro said, "but this will be like stealing candy from a baby."

An orange flicker passed over them both and they wore the image of human food servers, sporting a white dress shirt with a bowtie and a vest each, complete with white sclera and brown eyes instead of their natural Anticorian hues. Stellaria wore a black skirt with black heels, while Angkoro wore a black pair of trousers underneath his shirt, bowtie, and vest. Stellaria's dark hair was set back in a bun, while Angkoro had short, nearly trimmed black hair, in contrast to his true baldness. On the ground were the actual servers used as template for their appearance, taking an unplanned nap on the street. The Anticorians wearing their faces entered the back, metal floor of hotel, climbing its innards through service entrances and abandoned staircases.

---

Adrien and Warren walked toward the open doors leading to the restaurant in Le Grand Paris. Warren felt his mind detach from the collection of people in suits, dresses, and fine wear. With the Guardians away from the United States, he could have stolen the Megacores and gathered enough power to destroy them and R.Z.

But the Anticorians were out there. They were in Paris even though they needed the Megacores more than he did. Their change in tactics meant that there was something here other than a rock from the sky that caught their attention; they wouldn't need this unrefined gem. An impulse hit him to leave these costumed crusaders to their own devices, but knowing R. Z. the Megacores were not as unprotected as they seemed. It would be an easy feint to leave them open for the taking, only to imprison him once he activated the trap.

He didn't like this new emotion - hesitation. One possibility that was that he was getting cautious in his old age. He could hardly be a Wild Card without being reckless.

The other possibility was unpalatable, that he was getting soft.

This diversion would clear his mind, help him become more focused, and as he looked at Adrien, perhaps a new ally, with the light-haired boy yearning for the family Warren could provide. Yet the thought of acquiring a new pet cat made Warren's own heart twist with concern, and the vapors of a conscience began to stink up his mind.

Either he was overthinking it or he was making excuses. Given that the butterfly man could easily be coaxed into giving him an energy boost, he wouldn't even need the power of the Megacores to get his revenge.

The thoughts were ushered to the side as he and Adrien walked into the packed restaurant. The light-haired boy put on a show of gracious pleasantness. Another realization hit the adult caretaker as he ushered the boy through the millionaires with expensive tastes.

Warren Zimmer was going to have to mingle.

He kept within arm's length of Adrien, but the boy every so subtly led the way, and Warren hid his disgust at this den of pomp and circumstance. The two of them reached a group of men and women surrounding a couple. Upon seeing Adrien, they bent slightly and shook his hand and exchanged pleasantries. Warren, at least was invisible.

Adrien graciously made his way over to a large man wearing a sash and suit and a woman wearing a black and gold pantusit and a giant black hat over her bob and sunglasses. These two people were Mayor Andre Bourgeois and his wife Audrey. The latter looked at both Warren and Adrien as they came near, and the dark lenses of the woman put him more at unease. They reminded him of the glasses Anticorians often sported to conceal their eyes. Yet her intense stare ensured that he would be seen, like a laser pointer aimed at his forehead. That Adrien and the mayor exchanged pleasantries seemed to be a backdrop to their interaction.

"If it isn't the American coach," Audrey said. "Is it Wildwood?"

"Warren Zimmer," the man reminded. Her slip of the tongue reminded him of the alias he used to recruit Ricky.

"At least you seem to be more useful than that insolent secretary Gabriel kept around." The inflection she used for the word "useful" gave Warren a shudder, as it was playful, the complete opposite of her sharp demeanor. The look she gave over her tinted glasses revealed her very human blue eyes, and he almost wished they had been Anticorian after all. Instead, they were full of desirous interest.

This woman had made a pass right under her husband's nose. It was social, light flirting, but Warren girded what remained of his resolve to not end this charade and enjoy the night his unique, villainous way.

"Why this a Gabriel original," Audrey said as she eyed his suit. "It's good to know he's still inspired. You wear it well."

Much of the surrounding chatter stopped. Audrey Bourgeois had given him a compliment. Her husband smiled, pretending to be unaware of the continued attention his wife had put on Warren. With her words, Warren was no longer an attachment of Adrien but a guest in his own right, and one to be watched.

And that would only mean more eyes would be on him, making a discreet examination of the Garnet Gean even harder.

"Adrikins!"

The yell served as a herald for the girl who had shouted the nickname as she approached. Her black midi trumpet gown with gold buttons was short enough to show off her golden wedges, while she flaunted her black and gold nails. She flipped her ponytail and batted her eyes.

"Chloé?" Adrien asked.

"Daddy got this new dress for me!" Chloé explained. "But nobody is allowed to have any phones if they're not bidding. It's so not fair! How am I supposed to trend if I don't have a phone?"

"My darling," Andre said with deference, "we discussed this."

"Indeed," Audrey added more firmly. "Now run along with Agreste Junior while the grownups make deals."

Chloé wrapped her hand around Adrien's arm and harshly pushed him away from her parents.

"Guard duty calls," Warren said as he tried to step away.

"No need," Andre bragged with a wave. "This area is protected by the tightest security, and Adrien will be just fine with my daughter. It's one thing for Nathalie to take herself so seriously, but you are a far more fascinating guest."

"It's not often we get an American in Parisian high society," Audrey elaborated. "You're definitely going to be best in show."

Warren readied himself to burst into his armored form. It was only the next words that saved the party from becoming the site of his attack.

"I think this one's a little too wild for that," a woman butted in.

The group turned to the speaker, who flaunted her golden-tipped manicured hand. Her skin was a healthy, flawless brown in contrast to the overly made-up wealthy patrons around her. Her red chiffon gown had a shawl attached to the shoulders that was loosely wrapped around the top of her head, leaving both a smattering of near-black curls in the front and the back of her bun exposed.

By her side was a brown-haired, far paler bespectacled man of Warren's height, but his blue tuxedo fitted his thinner frame loosely. Despite the way the clothes draped off him, he walked with the same practiced ease as his companion, and the two were in complete rhythm.

"Maryse Laraque," Andre said, "president of Condé Distributing. Such a pleasure to see you."

"The same to you Mayor Bourgeois," the woman answered, then nodded to Audrey. "Mrs. Bourgeois." The couples quickly exchanged pleasantries in a quick display.

"Forgive me for the intrusion," Maryse continued, "But my husband insisted on coming over here to see the new arrival."

"My apologies," the man with her said, "it seems I have a perpetual case of bad timing. How do you do, Mrs. Bourgeois?"

"Satisfied," she answered.

"Do you mind if we steal this man away from you?" Maryse asked.

They answered with an assenting nod and walked away, with Warren Zimmer as their willing captive.

"I don't believe I've seen you here before," the man said, switching slightly accented English.

"This really isn't my crowd," Warren replied in the same language.

"Try to look happy. It's bad enough when Nathalie has that dour stare, but with you taking over her for her, I was hoping for someone with more of a sunny disposition."

Warren inwardly groaned. This man was a talker.

"I would be remiss if I didn't introduce myself," the husband continued and extended a gloved hand. "My name is Pierre Talbot."

"Warren Zimmer." They gripped hands, and Warren was pleasantly taken aback; this scrawny and overly friendly man had a firm handshake as strong as his own.

"Ah, the American coach." He breathed a sigh of relief to Warren surprise. He could not remember the last time he had calmed anyone down, let alone unintentionally. "This event is just a way for old money to meet new money. Since my wife's the one with the purse I'm as much of an outsider as you. I did not formally introduce you to Maryse."

"That's 'Ms. Laraque' to you," she shot back. She said it in English, to maintain the trail of conversation and to ensure that her remark was directed at the athletic Anglophone, not her husband.

"Not president?" Warren asked.

"That's only for my employees and Agreste has you on lock." She swooped her head left and right. "Now where did my boy go? I can't take an eye off him for a second."

"He's over there," Pierre answered, gesturing to a figure in white near the opposite wall. "In the meantime, we can look at these treasures, as I'm sure Mr. Zimmer would like to have a good look at what he's bidding on."

"Call me Warren," the American offered, hiding his annoyance with a phony amicability. The pair that escorted him towards the auction items walked at a slow pace. He fiddled with the bracelet under his sleeve and shirt. He unbuttoned the latter and pulled the edge of the clothes back slightly to unveil the metal covering over his arm.

They reached the row of treasures, each under a spotlight and a glass case resting atop After a minute, the husband and wife separated at the cases of items on display. Pierre intently studied the description of the Tibetan bangle, as if it had him on a leash, while Maryse scanned the crowd again for her son. The distraction was enough for Warren to completely pull back the unbuttoned edge of his cuff and jacket.

The bracelet projected an overlay which read, "Match Confirmed." The Garnet Gean definitely was the Anitcorian artifact. He quickly covered the projection with his phone and fixed his sleeve and shirt, then entered the text for the bid amount Gabriel provided.

Warren looked up. Maryse had walked away from the group of items to her son, who was now speaking with Adrien near a table full of cheeses and other hors d'oeuvres. Pierre and Warren locked eyes before the former led the latter to an intersection of two teenage boys who were under their care.

---

Light blared from the football helmets of Ish and Marty as they looked at the benches and the fountain in the Place de Vosges. They scanned for the energy signal only to find their light bouncing off metal and stone structures that would have been welcoming in the daytime. In the dark, the carousel gained an air of malicious mystique not much different from the abandoned carnival they had surveyed a few years ago. Back then it was the site of the Anticorian crash, and the first time Marty and Ish had been opposite sides.

A whiff of guilt brushed past Ish's nose and eyes despite the helmet covering his face. He had thought he could trick Sudden Death, only for the villain to make him a minion. At times he wondered what would have happened if Sudden Death had not arrogantly rejected him, but had been more savvy like the mysterious villain here who convinced the vulnerable that he was his friend. But the vapors of guilt were soon mixed with the vapors of nearby bakery, and both he and Marty turned to the large silhouette of a man that passed by a window. Ish and Marty's stomach both growled slightly at the olfactory promise of food.

Part of Ish wished all six of them could have been there, but he had paired Ricky with Troy, and Ash with Tua. As much as Ash and Ricky would have liked being together, both of their leadership skills were needed on separate teams. Ash had supported Tua in years past, and he could count on their combination of agility and strength. Plus, if Ash were still not fully recovered, he trusted Tua to protect her without becoming overly aggressive. Ricky and Troy were a slightly more combustible mix, with their competitiveness and egos clashing, but that same drive also led them to be good team. Each would push the other one to be better.

Besides, Ish needed the levity Marty shared tonight. His unorthodox thinking and self-deprecation livened up Ish's spirits, a distraction from the thoughts that filled the quiet, and Marty seized the moment to speak.

"So what do you call a hat that always sticks out its tongue?" Marty asked.

"I dunno," Ish responded.

"You call it a raspberry beret!" Marty shrugged his shoulders in a fake show uncertainty, and Ish laughed, his mirth causing the light emanating from his helmet to shake.

"That's a good one." He managed to rein in his exhalations as a new alert flashed inside his helmet. "Hold it. I'm getting a reading."

Ish and Marty turned to the building where the smells originated and pushed their gazes up to the top floor. The windows were bright with internal light, but the brightness paled in comparison with the multiple points of light and "MATCH CONFIRMED" alerts clouding their vision.

"Yep," Marty replied. "It's like 10...no, more. Is that the energy source?"

"It's massive..." Ish commented. "We need to take a closer look. Camoflauge mode."

Both Ish and Rick became invisible, then lifted themselves off the ground with their thrusters. Marinette sat at her desk with a book and a notebook. It was a reminder for the two that they had schoolwork to do.

"It's just Marinette," Marty mentioned.

"Let me do a DNA scan just to be sure," Ish said. Another circle and cross appeared over their classmate. The "SCANNING" text flipped to "ID CONFIRMED"

"That's Marinette all right," Ish whispered.

"This is bad," Marty replied as he hung his head, while Ish faced his palm to Marty.

"No, it has to be another feedback echo. Just like with Adrien, her Miraculous is causing problems with our scans."

"So the Anticorian material we're looking for isn't here. Then where is it?"

"Let's follow the Seine." Ish and Marty lifted themselves to the sky as a sharp, singular buzz preceded Ish accessing the comm channel with his teammates. "Guardians, Palace des Vosges is all clear. We're headed to the Seine."

"Got it," Ricky replied.

"We hear you," Ash said separately.

Ish and Marty threw themselves into the air and headed towards the river, leaving the studying superhero unaware of their presence.

---

Adrien yawned into his closed mouth, pressing his boredom into a stifling smile. Chloé had hooked her arm into his and had returned to her usual self, but her demeanor was off-kilter. He could not directly sense the desperation behind her display; as well as he knew her, he could not read past the artificial confidence she radiated. He still wanted to believe a trace of her was guilty for the damages she had caused as Miracle Queen, even if she refused to show it.

"All of these people are a complete drag," she complained, "and the only other boy here is utterly ridiculous. That just leaves you and me at this grand party for me."

"You mean for charity," Adrien reminded.

"Well, yeah, my charity." Her voice lost all its haughtiness and became quiet, the way it did in their moments together growing up. "Of course, this party would have been better if..."

Her words faded into the roar of the merriment around her. It reminded her that she was on stage at an event she could not attend as the identity she wanted to be, Queen Bee.

"Never mind," Chloé said, cutting off her own regret. "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to. But I'm not crying, because that would be ridiculous."

She led Adrien to the edge of the floor and the boy looked around for any person who would be interested in speaking with him. At the moment, they had all paired off, and even Warren was across the main floor, himself being held captive as much as Adrien. He would have to be alone with Chloé, but a black tuxedo lifted his spirits. Chloé's butler approached the pair of them, with his gaze directed at Chloé.

"Mademoiselle," the butler said, "there appears to be a situation. Several members of our staff have suddenly become unavailable."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Chloé asked.

"Mademoiselle agreed take on extra responsibility upon her parents' request. Since Mademoiselle is the host, it is her party. Mr. Cuddly would not want Mademoiselle to go back on her word."

She was accustomed to giving orders and having Sabrina take care of the rest, yet Sabrina was not here. Not only was she not invited, but she had both her group project and Chloé's essay to write on top of the other homework they had been separately assigned. Her parents were usually the ones who handled these things. The thought of having to manage this fundraiser filled her with dread; the days of her standing around looking pretty were over.

"Some superheroes don't need Miraculouses," she bragged in defiance as she detangled herself from Adrien. "I, Chloé Bourgeois, am now the Party Queen."

She walked away and followed the butler and relished in her return from retirement. Adrien exhaled, relieved that his friend had parted. He cast a glance at the platter at the end of a serving table. On the end was a charcuterie board with different types of cheese displayed on it.

As soon as he looked at it, Plagg emerged from his jacket. Save for his green eyes, the kwami blended in with the dark material, but that he had emerged at all stunned Adrien.

"Oh," Plagg said, "that smells delicious."

"Plagg," Adrien whispered out the side of his mouth, "not now. There are too many eyes on us."

The words were of no effect, and as was his standard, Plagg launched himself into the air and was gone. The kwami darted like a fly, hovering behind table drapery and dishes. Adrien followed with speed, then casually attempted to back into the table, hoping that he blocked the movement of a creature that should have remained hidden. He sculpted a fake smile that only became more plastic as the seconds slipped by.

And then something hit the side of his foot. He looked onto the ground and saw a mass of black. Instantly, he imagined his kwami before him but as Adrien bent over, the dark mass revealed itself as a napkin shaped disc, thicker than a plate. Adrien felt body heat near him and his heart beat a little faster. It was possible someone had seen Plagg or had seen him chase him.

He cast his gaze up and straightened himself as a teenager approached him. Plagg swiftly darted under the tailcoat with a piece of Brie. The youth's dark hair was carried back into a ponytail. He wore a white suit with a blue shirt and a pink tie. A monocle covered his right eye and was connected to a string that looped around his ear that was offset by a grin that offset his olive complexion.

"A phantom thief is an audacious and magnificent sight to behold," the youth said in greeting.

Adrien stifled his recognition of the reference and contained his reaction to his eyes. As much as it warmed his heart to see another anime fan in this setting, right now he had to re-establish his decorum.

"Can I help you?" Adrien asked.

"I thought I saw a hockey puck," the teenager responded as he bent over and scooped up the napkin. "Then I got the idea of making my own."

As soon as the teenager stood up his ear was stinging. It had been flicked by the tip of a golden painted nail. The nail and hands belonged to woman who was a head taller than him and several hues browner. She was familiar to Adrien. He had met and talked to her on previous occasions, but he could not recall her name. His new companion, however, could never forget her.

"Mama!" the teenager yelled, his cry ignored in the murmurs of the unknowing crowd.

"Arsène," the woman demanded, "apologize." As a response the youth turned to Adrien.

"I am sorry you got in the way of my shot," he began. "Then again, the way you were mouthing to yourself, I thought I was the only one bored out of my mind."

"What type of apology is that?"

The teenager cringed ever so slightly at his mother. The woman stood at the edge of Adrien's recognition, and with a clap her identity became known to him. He remembered with the shame of having forgotten her. This was the president of the distribution wing of Condé Industries, the wholesaler contracted with the Gabriel brand.

"I am deeply sorry for assaulting your honor in such an uncouth display of immaturity," her son stated. "Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Arsène Talbot."

"Adrien Agreste," the yellow-haired boy answered. "And it's all right. Fundraisers can be tiring."

"You are too kind," Maryse commented, "but he needs no excuses."

"It's nice to see you again, President Laraque," Adrien replied.

"Please, young man. Remember, you are not an employee. Call me 'Maryse.'"

"My apologies, Maryse." He shuddered slightly. The idea of calling adults by their first name struck a note of disrespect, even if it was at her insistence.

"And you remember my husband." She turned her palms to the man who approached them with Warren behind him.

" Mr. Lara-" Adrien greeted, then stopped himself, recalling a prior faux pas. "I mean., Mr. Talbot."

"It's always nice to see you, Adrien," the man answered with a gentle smile. "Please call me Pierre."

"Understood."

"I would have liked to have spoken to your father but he values his privacy so highly."

"Anything you'd say I could pass along," Warren interjected.

"Maybe it would be best if we discussed this at the table." Pierre turned to Warren. "Besides, I have heard you are an expert in accessing hidden networks. From one techie to another, I think we could contrast and compare once we're seated."

Pierre quickly stepped forward to his wife and the two ushered the teenagers and Warren to a table with five chairs and a placard. As the father passed his son, Arsène and Pierre knocked each other's hands in a coordinated but quick movement. Adrien and Warren caught the signal but not the meaning. Once they reached the table Pierre pulled out a seat for Maryse while the others seated themselves, before Pierre sat down, the last to seat himself. The group of five sat at ease with empty plates in front of them.

---

A tower of metal and light reached out to night sky while awestruck visitors surrounded it in wonder. The Eiffel Tower attracted families taking selfies, couples hugging each other, and smile and laughter that illuminated the ground as brilliantly as the structure set the Paris night aglow.

It was out of the reach of that light, far from the tower, where there were roofs and buildings that escaped the glory of the glow, that two figures watched the crowd.

There was little wind tonight, and the air was warm with only a slight chill. It was a night to breathe in the crisp, comfortable atmosphere. It was not a night to be caged in a pen of soulless, stratified snobs who made no music but the cacophony of their own chatter. Lady Wifi and Bubbler appreciated the silent freedom and the purple sphere carrying the teal balls floated in front of them.

With a laugh the bubble was sent aloft, seemingly passing in front of a moon that was split in half, but waning in power. It was out of sight of ordinary eyes, but Bubbler stared at the spherical carriage with an intense focus, watching it with. As the bubble became nearly a speck as it neared the tower, Bubbler felt a mix of anticipation and loss, as if he were sending a new life onto an unknown venture.

And then, as the bubble hovered high above the ground, above the reach of most eyes, it popped.

At once the collection of balls scattered slightly, no longer artificially confined by a soapy shell. They separated and plummeted, crashing into the ground, first in segmented drops that struck the curiosity of the onlookers only to quickly advance into an avalanche of that broke up the harmony of the gathering. The balls did not splatter or bounce, but rolled a short distance then stopped, and the people who were once in awe were now in fear, running away from the teal spheres. After several steps, they paused, and the seesaw of emotions caused their curiosity to bloom once again.

Then the balls unfurled and as they did the monsters emerged from the balls. Twice the height of the tallest human, the digits at the ends of their arms and legs were fewer than on their human counterparts. The creatures instantly sought out any visitor in lumbering steps.

With a practiced panic, the people at the Eiffel Tower ran. The Blitz Borgs were imposing and chased after their human prey, but people were nimbler than the large figures. The humans succumbed to the instinct to flee and pursued any path to safety.

Lady Wifi swiped her phone icon to conjure a pink circle with a camera insignia inside it then put the icon above the roof. The icon was aligned parallel to the roof to make it less conspicuous, but it had a direct line of sight to the Eiffel Tower. Instantly several billboards and screen in the vicinity showed footage of the Blitz Borgs from that angle. Some bystanders in that area lifted their smartphones and recorded the monsters, helping her spread the word on their own.

The two supervillains grinned, and soon found their adjacent hands intertwined.

---

Dishes of food were set before five figures seated at the table. The act of eating would have made Warren nervous if he cared about protocol, and neither he nor the others cared. He was the uncouth American; he was expected to be a boor. Adrien, Pierre, and Maryse all ate as seasoned professionals to fine dining, moving from one course to the other with precise grace of those used to luxury. By contrast, the confidence Arsène had shown earlier had dwindled in the face of too many forks and spoons to count in the shade of silent but fierce admonitions from his mother.

The conversation had been mostly about computer networks, protocols, web technologies, dominated by the two grown men. Adrien kept his ears open, while Arsène focused on correcting his behavior and Maryse managed the table without saying a word.

"For someone with such extensive experience with networks and cybersecurity," Pierre said, "I am surprised you did not pursue that line of work."

"I think I like my current gig better," Warren replied. "It gets me out in the world."

"It's true. There is a price to pay for all that time in front of a terminal." Pierre pushed up his glasses with his right hand, which now was bare-fingered but still partially covered with a black brace. "Transcriptions are still horrible when it comes to command-line interfaces."

"I keep telling my love that he doesn't have to work," Maryse interjected. "'Be my trophy husband,' I say."

"Maybe one day I'll hang up my keyboard, but I want to put my degree into use as much as you put your passion into your work."

The husband and wife intertwined their fingers in the game of mock "kicking." Adrien looked on with fascination while Arsène rolled his eyes. Maryse took her other hand and wordlessly flicked the back of her son's ear. This family dynamic only isolated Warren further, and he turned his head towards the red stone on display, but the gem glittered as brightly when he looked as when he didn't look. He instead studied the cutlery; despite the effort made to mimic fine metal, these utensils were stainless steel.

"That Garnet Gean is not going anywhere," Maryse remarked. "Too rich for my blood."

"There are a lot of Tibetan artifacts here," Warren replied.

"Do you have an interest in Tibet?" Pierre asked.

"Not in particular." Warren paused as he perceived the opening that he needed. "Is that what you wanted to discuss with Honest Gabe?"

"Perhaps."

Their exchange was severed by Maryse giving her son a look so sharp it sliced words into silence. Arsène had tried to pry open the pouch that contained his phone, but was stopped by an intense stare.

"Give me that pouch," Maryse ordered him. "Can't you eat a single meal without being distracted by your phone?"

"But I just wanted a picture," Arsène protested as he obeyed. "This is my very first fancy fundraiser."

"You can get your picture afterward," Maryse insisted. "Not now."

"This is a new experience for me, too," Warren revealed. It bothered him how easily he had settled into defusing the situation. He was used to agitation, not resolution.

"We understand. Unlike these boys..." Maryse swirled her finger to indicate she referred to those outside the table. "...we grew up with parents who worked hard labor."

"That's why we both felt it important for our son go to school with other children and be exposed to different backgrounds," Pierre finished as he looked at his son with a smile. "And it doesn't hurt that you aced all your exams the past two terms."

"Papa," Arsène said, his face squirming with embarrassment.

"We are proud," Maryse insisted. "That's the only reason why I let you wear that suit." Arsène straightened himself up on the remark.

"White is a proper color for a debutante."

"You are such a clown." Maryse let her face soften into a smile. "But you're my clown."

The father, the mother, and the son laughed in a way with Adrien and Warren could not help but enjoy, and the latter ignored the dark notification on his phone that brought news of danger within the city.

---

Marinette eyes were trained on the book in front of her which had two columns of text on each page. On the left side of the page there was the text in illegible old French, while on the right side of the page, the translation into modern French was provided. She looked at the verses, but she hadn't come up with an argument for her essay. The idea of love ached her heart and the words ran together in a blur.

She looked over at the egg-shaped Miracle Box in her room, a box she had yet to open. The kwamis were contained within, each miniature figure connected to a piece of jewelry. The idea of just putting the Snake Miraculous tempted her if she could ever figure out how to open it. Perhaps once she did, she could rewind time over and over again until she finally understood what she was trying to read. Anything was better than staring at these words that held little meaning for her.

An alarm cut through her stupor and she was clear-headed. Her lips curled downward as she saw the familiar butterfly symbol and the words "Akuma Alert." As much as she needed a break from studying, the safety of the people of Paris was not to be sacrificed for an escape from the doldrums of homework.

Video popped up her phone in tandem with the alert. Chasing visitors of the Eiffel tower were blue-green bipedal monsters with a digitigrade stance and giant arms. Their forearms were enlarged and ended with hands with three fingers and a thumb instead of four. They sported three glowing discs of light in the front of what could only be charitably be called heads. With their elongated limbs these creatures were not human. And from the way they rampaged, they were clearly not friendly, either.

"Tikki, spots on!"

She changed into Ladybug in a flash, not even bothering to wait until she got on the roof of her house. Instead, she quickly jumped up to her bed, then opened the trap door to her balcony then thrust herself into the air immediately after landing. She did not even bother to look before throwing her yo-yo into the air as it hooked onto a nearby building. She needed to help and she knew the way by heart. She pressed herself forward in swing after swing, the familiar Parisian lights barely registering as worthy of notice.

Her attention was broken by a billboard that had a video display. There was more footage of the same monsters at the Eiffel Tower. This was not a broadcast; it did not have any of the extra logos that a televised stream displayed, but it was crystal clear in a definition that was higher than was technologically possible.

Confusion swirled with disappointment. The billboard had shown a closeup of Adrien in his garb from the fragrance advertisement. She hadn't recalled the static paper ad being replaced with a digital version. She shook off any unease like a dog drying its wet fur. Paris needed her help. She didn't need to worry about a billboard or its subject, and her thoughts returned to her destination and the people she had to save.

---

The chatter at the table affected Warren in a way that he could not stand. It smoothed off the edges of his anger, and as time wore on, his mask of friendliness melded into his actual face. Pierre and Maryse were adults his age and despite being set apart had made their own fortune. Even though Warren was not the most intuitive man, it was obvious these two had suffered, but had plowed through suffering; they were the types that if they had played football would have torn through blocks based on sheer will.

Was this what re-integration into society could be like?

The thought of spending time with people was repugnant. Machines would obey his word. Power would fill the emptiness in his heart. Yet, the cheesy appeal of connecting with people, not merely working with them but enjoying their company was less a cliché and more real at the moment. He had never had it in his childhood, and the accident had taken away what little chance he had at a normal life. Revenge was all he had left, yet he had not felt this way since the moment he had been feed from his containment suit.

The moment was short-lived, as he was sent to prison. He had found the isolation from other prisoners the most tolerable part of confinement. He had no desire to make friends. At least he would have been in peace, alone, had the Anticorians not shown up and given him the push he needed to focus himself on his revenge. If he were going to be a criminal, he would do it his way.

Yet the easy acceptance of these people at the table – rich and having no reason to connect with him – shattered everything he knew in his several decades. This was not R.Z. 6.0 and his patronizing attempts at patching a relationship that could never be repaired. or the replacement children he fostered, the Guardians. These were people who were including him as they were outsiders. They had dropped too many hints of knowing his past; they weren't ignorant, yet they invited him anyway.

Everyone in his life had been a disappointment, but not everyone to come would have to be.

Another disappointment came in as a notification on the phone. He hoped it was an alert that the auction was over. Instead, it was two words that soured his mood.

"Akuma Alert."

Had he been able to change into Wild Card, he would have had full access to the scanners for confirmation. The phone alert, though, was enough. The alert was for the Eiffel Tower not the hotel. He could not even see the details of the alert as a question was tossed his way.

"Warren, is everything okay?" Adrien asked.

The truth was on the tip of his tongue. Telling the boy about the akuma alert would give Adrien the excuse needed to leave and get him away from the stares. But Adrien had enough disappointment in his life; that was a burden those two shared. Something new inside Warren refused to let him ruin this occasion for the boy.

"I just noticed something a little unusual," he said dismissively.

"I would think an American in Paris would unusual enough," Maryse replied.

"But aren't both of you also from overseas?" Adrien asked the husband and wife.

"I was born in Guadeloupe, and my dear is from Quebec. By the way, how is Miss Nathalie doing?"

"Nathalie is on vacation," Adrien said, repeating the lie he was told.

"The next time you see her, send Miss Nathalie my regards."

"So, is this your first formal fundraiser?" Adrien asked Arsène.

"Yeah," Arsène answered, "but it's not like anything I wanted it to be."

"Then you ought to straighten up and keep your head high," Maryse chided. "Posture is important."

"Mama," Arsène whined back as he spread his shoulders.

"Don't 'Mama' me. Look at Adrien. He has poise, manners, and class. You have to be good like him."

"But, Mama, if we can't be ourselves, what are we doing here?"

"Raising funds for others. It's not always about what you want. You have a responsibility as my son to not act up and cut the fool. Think of what others would want."

"Speaking of that," Pierre began, "Adrien, tell me. What is it that you want?"

"I just want people to be happy," Adrien replied.

"That is a diplomatic answer, but it's not the truth. I know that it must be hard, with your recent loss."

"I appreciate your concern," Adrien answered.

"When your world has changed forever, it's okay to want things to be better. You'll never stop wanting things to be better. It's easy to fake a smile when you don't want to think of what you lost."

Pierre stole a glance at Warren that was matched with a glare from the American. That comment was a direct jab at his past. Warren did not want to be analyzed. It reminded him too much of reconciliation and rehabilitation, words that dulled the edge of his pain, and the thought to reveal the notification on his phone slithered to the forefront of his thoughts.

"But then you find new reasons to smile genuinely," Pierre continued, looking at Maryse and Arsène, "and new reasons to love, just as I love you, honey. And I love you too, son."

"Thanks, Papa," Arsène replied.

"That's so sweet, it's giving me cavities," Warren muttered.

All of the other members of the table laughed. He hadn't intended the line to be funny or positive, but they ignored his antagonism. Their good nature was infectious and the piercing remark from before diffused into mild unpleasantness. Letting the akuma alert go unanswered was the right call. Warren was not going to tear this moment away from Adrien. The boy needed the drop of happiness Warren never had.

---

Servers walked briskly back and forth, picking up trays full of food and setting down cleared plates with the individualized grace of felines in a pack. Stellaria and Angkoro remained in their disguises and off to the side, away from the patrols of supervisors. They had expected there to be mass panic, or at least for teenager in the dark suit to take his leave, but aside from murmurs among the staff, the news of the attack at the Eiffel Tower clung to the air as a rumor, with the event floor sealed off from information. That meant their nemesis with the gray temples sat and ate alongside the heroic teenager, their unwitting alliance a form of black magic against their machinations. Warren's face in particular made Angkoro's stomach turn as the middle-aged human began to smile as if he felt at home.

"Wild Card and that superhero are still here," Angkoro sneered.

"No matter," Stellaria said. "Stealth will win this game. We just need to create a hole in their coverage."

The two of them looked at Chloe Bourgeois passing by the entrance to the kitchen. She pouted and yelled at another woman who wore the black and white server attire they were draped in. The blonde watched the floor like a hawk, even more intently than the depowered forms of their adversaries. She would also be their key to success where they were outnumbered. They would be able to get to the goal line, the Garnet Gean that served as their endzone.

All they'd have to do is get the safety out of position.

---

An impossibly long string with a yo-yo at the end hooked around one of the beams of the Eiffel Tower. Ladybug swung to the beam with adroit ease then let herself descend. From the billboards and footage she had spotted on her way here, she had seen enough of the two-legged monsters to tell that they looked more menacing then they actually were dangerous. Their destruction was opportunistic but uncoordinated. In of itself that bothered her because that meant the supervillain who had changed them did not bother to use them to his or her ends. Only two possibilities trying to her mind and neither of them sat well with her.

The first was that the creatures were unleashed as part of a trap and that the supervillain was somewhere nearby waiting to pounce on her. Between the convenient videos that acted as signposts and the open area in which these monsters roamed, Ladybug held fast to this possibility. Supervillains almost always took the chance to gloat at their handiwork, though, and few villains would try to bait her into a trap without first at least announcing their presence prior to that point and making their demands.

The second was that the villain just didn't care.

That possibility was far more rare but far more dangerous. Supervillains who affected civilians with the aim of achieving a goal left minions who could be more easily handled, as the actions of the underlings aligned with that of the supervillain. That meant Ladybug could strategize and figure out counters to their single-minded obsessions.

But a supervillain who would just cause chaos, turning victims into monsters without even a reason beyond mere destruction or mayhem, frightened her on a level that most of Hawk Moth's victims did not. Even a baby like August was more manageable when akumatized into Gigantitan than a fiend like Horrificator who fed on fear indiscriminately.

She spun these thoughts in her head as quickly as she twirled her yo-yo as she landed. If there were any bystanders hiding, she had to contain these creatures. Several of the monsters turned the yellow circles where their faces should have been to her. The metallic whirring and subsequent pause unsteadied her more than their appearance. It was as if they were waiting for orders to attack.

After a few seconds some of them chased her down, and lunged at her, and she sidestepped each of the monsters thoughtlessly. In response, the rest of the teal beings surrounded her in a blue-green march. Ladybug stood in place, drawing more of the creatures toward her. She kept her eyes vigilant, not letting them rest on a single point. The creatures did not seem to form a strategy or show any intelligence beyond forming an ever-growing donut of blue-green. The more she twirled her yo-yo, the tighter and thicker the donut became, but she let the crowd of beings close in until they were at less than an arm's length away. The ones that tried to tackle her seemed to get slightly faster with each sacrificial lunge, and it became difficult to keep up the streak of evasion, but Ladybug did. She needed to make sure all of the creatures in the area were focused on her.

Then one of them that was too close for Ladybug to sidestep leaped forward. With its ankles naturally bent, it jumped more readily than a human, but Ladybug was not flatfooted. As soon as the creature's whirring reached her ear, she threw her yo-yo upward and leaped, expecting to clear the crowd of minions.

In actuality, the creature knocked into her foot, throwing the rest of her body off-balance before the creature was itself planted onto the ground. Other creatures followed suit, leaping at the spot she had been, and she fell outside the donut and crumbled. She shook her head and made herself to her feet. She should have cleared the monsters with her initial bound, and the monsters that had not made leaps of faith began to turn towards her.

She grunted and threw her yo-yo at the Eiffel Tower again and clutched one of the lower beams. The donut had collapsed, but the creature crowd was still largely in one mass still. She tossed the yo-yo and watched as its string wrapped its way around the beings, tying them up in several layers of black string. She sighed, partially out of relief, and partially out of a groundswell of fatigue. The lethargy drained her of the surprise she should have felt. She should not have been feeling tired, and she dropped to the ground, loosening the grip of the yo-yo in her hands.

At the same time the creatures pushed their arms open against the string and it fell to the ground. Unbound, they ran over to her in a stampede. Whether they were moving faster than before or slower, confused her, but she was running out energy to care. Darkness swallowed her stumbling sight and she shook her head to bring the brightness her vision back, only for it to recede in another cycle. Her mind knew it was wrong, but everything slowed into an extended experience as she unnaturally colored wave collapsed on her.

The creatures grabbed her artlessly with clumped, three fingered black claws and pulled on a limb, ignoring her head entirely. She was too tired to scream, but only had enough consciousness for a final thought.

They weren't after her Miraculous. They were going to tear her apart.

---

The plates were cleared and taken away from the table where Adrien Agreste and his companions sat. The chatter had quieted down and the admonitions from Maryse to Arsène also decreased. The mother handed the pouch containing Arsène's phone back to her son as a reward, but the eyes of the teenaged boys twinged with the post-meal fatigue. Adrien hid his, but the adults knew the boys' eyes had been bigger than their stomachs

That similarity almost led Maryse into a reverie of her own as she eyed the pair of teenaged boys. Already her son and Adrien had begun the building blocks of a meeting. They had to be the architects of any relationship to follow, not her or anyone else.

"Why don't you boys take a look at the treasures before they put them away?" she asked the boys. "A short walk will help you digest your meal."

The words cause the youth to slowly rise, with Arsène grabbing his phone pouch as a pacifier. Pierre and Warren watched the teenagers begin to get up as a slice of chocolate éclair was placed in front of the adult men. She knew the look in her husband's eye; both men made a point to prove to out-eat the other all while beginning talk of commands and permissions and something about "root." It was a reminder that there was too much testosterone at the table, and she quickly grabbed, hoping to prevent her entire family from going mad.

"Behave," she warned him. Arsène and Adrien took a slow walk towards the treasures under that weight of this command.

"Papa and his technobabble," Arsène complained. "He's so much cooler than that, but he clings to computer talk."

"Technology's not my strength," Adrien replied, "but I think it's interesting."

"I don't know. I'll never be like him. You might not be a designer but at least you're in the world of fashion. I don't have an eye for technology or business. I don't know what I'm going to be when I get older."

"Maybe that's for the best." Adrien and Arsène reached the row of treasures and gave passing glances at the first case. "What if your parents pushed you into something that you didn't really want to do?"

"But nearly everybody my age has a career picked out." The glare of the intense light above the treasure reflected off his monocle. "My birthday is in a few weeks and I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up."

"To tell the truth, neither do I. I've been modelling, fencing, playing piano, studying Chinese, and doing so many activities for so long I've never thought about what I wanted in the long run."

"I guess there is one goal I do have." Arsène and Adrien walked to the next treasure. "To get a girlfriend. Never been kissed. Never been on a date."

"I know how that feels," Adrien said.

"You've been on dates with that Tsurugi girl." Arsène replied.

"Kagami is special to me." He wanted to open up to say more, but redirected the loosening of his tongue. "It wasn't always way,"

"I have someone special to me, but she doesn't even know I exist. She is an amazing girl who saves Paris."

Adrien flipped from his reverie to a state of realization.

"You're love with a superhero?" Adrien asked Arsène. "She wouldn't happen to be a lady in red".

"That's one way to put it..." Arsène took a pause that seemed to last forever "...as in a red fox."

"Oh, you like Rena Rouge." Relief dampened Adrien's words. Neither were in competition with each other.

"Yeah." Arsène emerged from his daydream. "Just the power of illusion means she can be anything she wants to be whenever she wants. I'd sell my soul for have that."

The two of them reached the pedestal displaying the red crystal that was set in an open box. The 'Garnet Gean' was the same color as Ladybug's uniform, but otherwise it seemed to simply be a ruby. Arsène pressed his hands together, then closed his eyes.

"Oh, Garnet Gean," he said, "I wish everyone's crush would fall for them."

"I don't think it works like that," Adrien replied.

"Nah, it doesn't work at all. I've seen magic. This isn't magic." He stepped towards the next object. "On the other hand, I am feeling this."

Adrien followed him over one spot to the rusted loop. Whereas the Garnet Gean glistened, the bangle was dull and discolored, an abandoned piece of junk that paled in comparison to the other treasures.

"Is it supposed to go on your neck or your wrist?" Adrien asked.

"I don't know, but I like it." Arsène let a round, small magnet fall from his sleeve into his hand, then pressed his index finger of his other hand to his lips. "Shhh..."

Arsène took the pouch containing the phone out of his pocket and pressed the magnet against the lock. With a click he opened up the pouch and removed his cell phone, then activated the screen and pointed the phone at the metal band. With a quick, confident series of strokes he took a picture, then swiftly returned his phone into the pouch and stuffed the magnet back into his sleeve.

The eyes of the adults they left followed them, as did the electronic eye of the camera above.

---

Chloé Bourgeois was all dressed up with too many places to go. She had expected tonight to be an amazing night, one to take her mind off the past few weeks. Kagami, at least, was not around, so that was one less headache. Chloé had hoped she would at least have been able to bait a compliment from Adrien on her looks.

Her hopes were in vain. She had been stomping around in her wedge heels trying to keep order at the event, vexed by ingrates like that boy who dared to flick a paper puck at Adrien when she was summoned away. She had hoped it would give her the excuse needed to rejoin Adrien. Unfortunately, Adrien diffused the situation with his naive charm, and before she knew it, yet another report of dishes being delayed hit her ear. Not only wouldn't Adrien get to see her, but she was going to have to work, all while clutching the pouch her smartphone was in.

A sadness hooked itself to her heart and the shadow of her actions as Miracle Queen followed her mood. She looked to her parents who were side by side. Now her mother and father were inseparable. That they clung to each other sickened her, and put more of the workload on her to scan the room.

It was at moment of vision that she saw a pair of people wearing the garb of service staff making their way over to the treasures on display. Quickly she crossed the room with determination and closed in on the woman and the man. Neither of them turned around until Chloé poked her finger into the woman's back, and the pair turned around.

"Excuse me," Chloé began, "but you are only supposed to go to the tables".

"My apologies," the woman said. "You are wearing such a fabulous ensemble-"

The words flipped a switch in Chloé and narrowed her vision to exclude the retreating man. Her lips raised at the corners, but she stopped the expression at a smug smile before it became genuine.

"Of course, it is!" Chloé interrupted in blind pride. "As the daughter of the mayor of Paris, I only deserve the best."

'Would you mind if I took a picture?" the woman asked.

"I certainly would mind. How is it supposed to go viral if it isn't under my account?"

"I can help." The woman pointed to the pouch in Chloé's hand. "I could easily unlock that device if you don't mind."

"Why didn't you say so sooner?"

Chloé extended her hand and thrust the pouch in the face of the woman. The woman produced a golden apparatus with a broad, three-sided end that narrowed in a sharp curve to a point that was blunted on the other end. The top, wider end displayed red characters against a golden background. This raised side of the device was in contrast to the flat opposing side. She pressed a lighted, golden area on top of the device and instantly, the pouch clicked. Chloé grinned and opened the pouch and swiftly brought her phone back to life. With two taps, the camera app had opened, showing the realtime motion of what the lens captured.

"It's preset," Chloé explained, then positioned the phone at a precise angle and handed it to the woman. "Take it from that angle."

The woman backed up slightly and aimed the camera lens of the phone at Chloé, then made the distinctive snap.

"Here you go," said the woman in the server garb. She handed the phone back to Chloé who viewed the picture with glee. In another series of taps it was sent to her social media outlets. Chloé quickly changed applications on the phone to make sure the image had posted properly to her accounts, but the rush of likes and notifications verified the post was made.

"And it's on my story," Chloé declared. "You can look at it there."

"It has been an honor to assist you, Miss Bourgeois." The male server rejoined his female companion, although Chloé had hardly noticed he had left. "And we will make sure you never see us again."

The hair and bodies of the two disappeared into the fog of people Chloé Bourgeois had encountered, and she also quickly forgot about them. They were not ridiculous enough to remember.

---

A cumberbund stretched nearly the breaking point rubbed into the belly of Warren Zimmer. He looked at his empty plate then glanced at the empty plate of the man across the table. Warren was surprised the man had anywhere to put the food away, but the fatigue in his showed he was in the same state as Warren. They were both full and the only thing that could be declared was a stalemate.

After talking about network switches and eating the dessert, both men were as quiet as Maryse, and Warren used his phone to verify the murmurs that had already spreading in the closed room. A video showed Ladybug fighting Blitz Borgs there, which meant the Anticorians were in Paris as he suspected. The Anticorians themselves were absent, and Ladybug seemed to falter.

He felt more confident, pushing aside the worries he had grown a conscience. Keeping Adrien away from was the perfect manipulation tactic, he told himself. The cover of cruelty made him smile. It was easier to accept his nefarious nature than admit to an action other than seizing an opportunity to cause trouble. Pierre and Maryse

"What area is the akuma alert for?" Maryse asked

"It's at the Eiffel Tower," Warren replied. He then turned the phone so Maryse and Pierre could look at the video footage.

"I believe those are the creatures that interrupted those sports events overseas," Pierre remarked.

Warren held his lips shut. That man definitely recognized the Blitz Borgs. They weren't the Anticorians. Stellaria and Angkoro could pretend to be nice that long, but they knew too much.

"No point in worrying them about it," Maryse said as her fingers intertwined with those of Pierre. Their shared gaze was at the two teenagers. "They're young and I haven't seen that young man this happy in so long. I don't know why Gabriel keeps that boy cooped up like that."

The boys had returned to the table without incident. Arsène placed the phone pouch on the table with the worst poker face, but at that moment Warren saw a familiar movement out of the corner of his eye. He passed off his gaze and saw Chloé posing for a picture for a server. The server didn't look familiar, but from the way she moved he knew her, and a male server had made his way to the treasures on display.

"Warren, is something the matter?" Adrien asked, breaking his focus.

"For a second," he answered, turning to Adrien, "I thought I saw somebody I knew."

Warren then took out his phone and his thoughts turned to the two boys. The Garnet Gean had held their attention, but Warren looked at the auction and the other items on display. The loop called to him and he looked to Arsène, and with determination he made a few more swipes. The application closed, then reloaded with a different account. Warren tapped in another bids, then closed the application again and opened the previous one up and began to scroll through the item list.

Warren's fingers were halted by a wide shadow. The belly of Roger Raincomprix reached the table before the man himself did. The five watched his approach with two other police officers. Warren quickly took another glance at the treasures and his eyes widened at the change before him.

The Garnet Gean had disappeared.

Before Warren could act on his shock, Roger had already begun to talk.

"We have a situation with the Garnet Gean," he said. "Two of the members of this table were viewing the Garnet Gean a few minutes ago. Adrien, we know you are innocent, but I have some questions for your friend. The Garnet Gean disappeared not long after you were seen unlocking your phone pouch and withdrawing your phone to take a picture of the gem."

"If my boy has done something wrong," Maryse declared, "I will discipline him."

"Unfortunately, the gem is no longer in its case. If he has nothing to hide, our work will be quick."

"I don't like what you're implying," Pierre added, standing up.

"Neither do I," Maryse stated, standing at the same time. "He's not going anywhere with you."

"Calm down you two," Roger said. "No one is saying your son has done anything. We just want to ask him a few questions, that's all."

The five members at the table deciphered the unsaid. No one was saying he had not done anything either.

"As someone who did spend time behind bars," Warren commented, "let me give you a piece of advice. You're barking up the wrong tree."

Arsène looked at the officer with vacant eyes. His heart was empty of everything but fear as the nightmare.

He was being accused.

He had known this could happen, that perhaps someone would lie on him or make a bad assumption. Even with less than two decades of life and living among the elite, he had experienced instances of condescension and ill treatment based on nothing but his appearance. But the idea of him getting in actual trouble was no longer an idea, a fear he had lived with but thought he wouldn't have to face. He expected that if he did the right thing, he would be able to explain and live, but the eyes of the officers were full of disdain and suspicion. To them, he was guilty, and being guilty meant that he was as good as dead.

The authorities weren't listening to the words of the adults and Adrien. All of those who advocated for him formed wall of defense between the police officers that had come to the table. Despite his rapid heartbeat, the presence of his parents, Adrien, and Warren shielded him from his own panic.

Arsène snapped his head in one direction and his eyes in another. There were more men in dark uniforms. They had already begun the process of cornering him. If he waited, he was going to be carted away from the safety of his family.

An instinct within him flickered to life.

He bolted.

He sped away from the group with long strides, leaving behind both the pouch his phone was in and the magnet he had used to open it. His white shoes echoed with every footfall against the hotel floor as he exited the restaurant. He steeled himself against the cries that told him to halt. He had made the decision. Now he had to hide. He had to get out of this place. He could not let these figures in blue take him away or worse.

---

Blue, faded moonlight poured into the circular window as butterflies gathered on the ground. The moonlight was weak, stemming from a half moon that was waning, but the purple-suited man was drawn to the room by the unrest in the hearts of Parisians. There are large surges of fear coming from the Eiffel Tower. He had seen the reports of the monsters that attacked. That meant there was a new enemy present.

The waves of fear reached his brooch. Hawk Moth wrapped a butterfly with his loose two-handed clasp when a newer feeling tugged at him.

The emotion was stronger, more raw, and primal. It was the song of a teenager who wanted to get away, who feared for the worst.

And that feeling was near Le Grand Paris.

Hawk Moth hesitated for half of a heartbeat as a butterfly landed in his gloved hand. The target was in the same location as Adrien, but Warren was there to protect his son. Hawk Moth injected the butterfly with black energy and let the new akuma go up through the window.

"A teenager wrongfully accused will make such great prey for my akuma," he said as he sent the butterfly into the sky. "Fly away my little akuma, and evilize him!"

The black butterfly vanished into the night sky, becoming as invisible as the trail of fear it followed.

---

Parisian city lights shrouded the darkness of the city in a protective luminescence, one that made the Seine shimmer under the artificial lamplight. Despite the light, the city had cooled quickly, and had Marty and Ish not been coated in metallic suits, they would have felt the chill in the air as they zoomed along the banks. Their search had yielded nothing, and their eyes offered nothing but heaviness as nothing popped up on their scans. It was only at the edge of exhaustion that a bright, sustained glow invaded the corner of Marty's visor. He stopped and hovered in mid-air while Ish paused a second later, only to find his teammate in a stupor.

"What's up?" Ish asked

"Do you see that?" Marty asked as looked up and pointed in the sky.

Ish followed the line of sight to a digital billboard. At the bottom was the text "Akuma Alert." Yet his eyes were more focused on the spiked, blue green shoulder pauldrons of the giant aliens they were all too familiar with.

"That's not good," Ish said. He activated the comm link. "QB1 to Guardians."

"QB6 here," Ricky replied, "we were just about to call you. There's an akuma alert!"

"It's worse than that. The akuma alert is actually for Blitz Borgs. They're flooding the Eiffel Tower."

"We copy that!" Tua said. "It's on every screen."

They all watched as a scarlet, spotted heroine dodged the lunges of the Blitz Borgs. Ladybug danced around the monsters but her steps slowed, and the misses became nearer and nearer. One of them had clipped her leap and when she landed, she faltered. She tossed her yo-yo around the Blitz Borg, but it only held them for a moment before they rushed her.

Those Biltz Borgs are going to overwhelm her.

"Guardians," Ish said. "meet up at the Eiffel Tower."

Marty and Ish blasted off into the sky, heading toward the lit structure to save their fellow hero.

---

Arsène curled himself into a ball and huddled against the wall. The dark, empty suite was far from a perfect hiding spot, but he was fortuitous. A man had exited the suite as he ran past, not bothering to close the door behind him and leaving it ajar. Arsène had entered it and did not make the same mistake, slamming the door shut.

Arsène had envisioned he would be an escape artist, that he would lead the bumbling group of policemen in a chase he controlled. He almost wished he had stolen the Garnet Gean to earn their determination.

Instead, he huddled in panic behind the closed door, his monocle fogging up with steam.

He simply had to get away. He could not count on his parents to save him or for anyone to put in a good word for him. He fled. That made him nothing more than the thief they accused him of in their eyes, and the scenes of fleeing suspects brought to a fall supplanted the fun escapism of phantom thieves. He had wanted to be like the latter, gentlemen who utilized sleight of hand, or better yet a showman of a different sort, a comic figure who had become a distraction.

And he wanted to be something other than a weak human boy cowering in a suite lit only by the weak moonlight and the light that leaked through the edge of the door.

And the door clicked.

He thought of diving under the bed, then hiding in the closet, but instead his mind went blank and he instead ran towards the window. The police opened the door and a wall of men clad in blue swarmed in. Towards the back he could see the tops of the heads of his parents and Warren, and he reasoned Adrien was there as well to witness his downfall.

It was a bitter joke. He had become a fugitive over a phantom crime. In that sense, he was a phantom thief, not a real one.

His eyes and head pivoted behind him into the night air, and a mass of darkness approached his right eye. He hardly noticed it, but the yelling of a voice almost made him jerk away.

"Don't let that touch you!" Adrien cried.

In defiance of those words, the butterfly made contact with Arsène's monocle, and the transparent glass turned opaque obsidian.

"Moonocle," a voice said to Arsène alone, "I am Hawk Moth. These hoity-toity folk think you are a thief, so I will give you the opportunity to be the greatest thief in the world. I grant you the ability to steal anything you set your aim on. In exchange, I ask that you retrieve Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous for me."

The approaching police took no further steps towards Arsène, allowing Adrien, Warren, and his parents to come to the front the crowd, but he knew their change in tactics was a pause, not a solution. The voice in the dark was his only way out, and Arsène grabbed onto it with a single word.

"Yes."

A magic wave of darkness spread over Arsène then scattered. As it receded, the crowd in the room became an arena of gasps and cries that blew through the air and ruffled the newly sported fur of their focus. The teenager had transitioned into a being that was human-clothed but bestial in his head and his posterior. His hands had become covered with fur with claws instead of nails and his tail swung loosely, not waving but controlled. His white formal suit had become a white closed-jacket suit with a diamond pattern and broken by a black belt on his waist. Despite his new claws, his feet were still covered with shoes, now black patent leather.

His head was that of a wolf, but the monocle in front of his right eye sported a symbol of a crescent moon. At the center of his chest, the same symbol was repeated. The fur around his jawline formed a goatee, one that became more prominent and he cocked his head back and released an ear-piercing howl. The cry hung in the air for half a minute as the ears of the audience rang with the echo.

"I've always wanted to do that!" the new villain bragged to himself, then turned to his audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy the miracle that I provide tonight. Step right this way as I, Moonocle, perform the ultimate theft under the moonlight."

His words were spoken as Adrien searched for an exit. The crowd was too large for him to transform, but he stopped looking when he saw the faltering form beside him. Pierre sank to the floor upright. Adrien immediately braced the man's body to prevent a complete descent. The man had fallen, but he had not fallen over.

"Are you okay, Mr. Talbot?" Adrien asked, not even realized he had slipped back into a more formal mode of speech. The man did not have the strength to correct him and instead let Adrien help him back to his feet.

"I did not know Hawk Moth's magic was this strong," he replied as the color vanished from his face.

"Don't worry. This is just temporary. Ladybug and Cat Noir can set things right."

"I don't see either of them here!" Maryse yelled as she stepped forward, "I'll knock some sense into my boy!"

"Not a good idea," Warren replied, pressing his hand into her shoulder. She stopped and turned to him. "He's not exactly your boy any longer."

"Warren's right," Adrien insisted to Maryse. "If you confront him, he might lash out and attack people. Maybe I can talk him down in the meantime until the heroes get here."

Maryse bored a hole in Adrien with her eyes, but Adrien matched her stare with a determined look. He stepped forward away from the crowd and towards the supervillain. He opened his inner jacket pocket slightly and fingered it, feeling the magnet Arsène had left behind.

"How are you going to do that if you're one of the heroes?" Plagg muttered from the jacket pocket.

"Not now," Adrien muttered back.

"What do you mean not now?" Moonocle asked. "But you're right. You are a hero, just not the one I'm looking for. I talk to myself all the time. No shame in admitting it."

Adrien suppressed the urge to gulp. It was only a misunderstanding that had saved him from exposure; this supervillain had super hearing to go along with his new form.

"Arsène," Adrien called.

"Moonocle," the supervillain corrected.

"'Moonocle' it is." Adrien stopped within a few feet of the furry clown and noticed the monocle had lost its string and was suspended only by magic. "We were looking for you. I'm glad you're okay. I was worried about you."

Moonocle took a sniff to focus. There was the pungent scent of Camembert, but it was overpowered by the odor of his friend. The musk of anxiety from anxiety was real, but it was abating, not strengthening. Adrien smelled of concern, not fear, as well as cheese.

"I'm glad you aren't afraid of my new look," Moonocle declared.

"Moonocle, do you realize what happened?"

"Yes, it's what I've always wanted!" Moonocle flexed his muscles, and though they could not be seen well through his outfit, he intently made his gesticulations.

"Is it, or is it what Hawk Moth wants?"

"No, he just wants the Miraculous."

"Then you'd have to steal them. You didn't steal anything before, so why start now?"

"Because I can. I can finally be who I want to be."

Adrien repressed the urge to raise an eyebrow. Who would want to be a werewolf clown?

"What about the you who showed me this?" Adrien lifted the magnet and presented it the supervillain.

"I don't need it now," Moonocle answered. Adrien stuffed the magnet back into his pocket.

"And what about your parents?" Adrien asked. "I understand what it's like to want to meet the expectations of my father and those around me. I understand what it means to want to be free. But your parents are worried. They only want the best for you."

"This IS the best for me and for all of us. Parents just don't understand."

The lupine clown took Adrien's right hand and stared at the metal band.

"Nice ring," Moonocle complimented, "but I would never steal from a friend, even a new one. Besides, silver's not my style."

A wide, vertical screen of light opened behind him the window in the sky above. Moonocle looked at the display, a display that was also on the phone screens of those who possessed them. It had the words "Akuma Alert" scrolling at the bottom. The video was of Ladybug being held by the Blitz Borgs at the Eiffel Tower. Adrien and Moonocle made respective faces of concern and delight. Moonocle felt the frame of a butterfly in front of him and froze, seemingly lost in thought to the rest of the room.

"Be careful," Hawk Moth said to Moonocle, "Ladybug has recently gained allies to protect her. This could be a trap."

"Don't worry," Moonocle replied. "I'm a patron of the Ladyblog so I know how it works. All I have to do is get their Miraculouses. I know how to beat Ladybug and Cat Noir because I know all their moves." In a gush of sparkles, a golden crescent blade appeared in his hand. "And with these powers all I need to do is throw."

Moonocle turned to face the crowd.

"I have to go now," Moonocle said as a prelude to his exit, backing towards the window and taking a deep bow. "Watch carefully."

In a swing of his hips and a bending of his knees, Moonocle jumped out of the window behind him in a backwards flip. Instantly Adrien ran over to the window. He half-thought of changing into Cat Noir; even if the supervillain had become were durable, he didn't know if Moonocle would survive the fall. The protective thought disappeared as the villain was neither in freefall nor even diving. He was upright, not descending, and appeared to walk above the ground in the air, but as he pushed himself forward, except he was not stepping.

He was skating in mid-air. Unlike Frozer, his movements were full of power, not grace, but he covered dozens of meters with every stride. He was gliding in a slight descent. That meant he could not truly fly. If there were anything worse a flying clown, it would be a flying half-wolf clown.

Adrien looked back into the suite. Pierre had regained much of the color he had lost, but he still stood pale. His shock and sadness were only surpassed by the drive and fury of Maryse. Yet it was neither of them nor even Warren who called to him next.

"Adri-kins!"

Chloé had called him. Behind her Roger put his hand on her shoulder.

"Chloé," Roger called, grabbing her attention. "I'd like to have a word with you. We reviewed the footage and we noticed you speaking with a figure who entered with Person of Interest who suddenly disappeared around the same time"

"Surely you aren't suggesting I stole that gaudy gem," Chloé replied as she crossed her arms. "Daddy, why don't you fire him again?"

"My darling," her father said, "we reviewed the footage and there seems to be a...discrepancy."

"I'm sure Adrien will vouch for me." She opened her eyes and dropped her arms in surprise. "Adri-kins?"

She looked around but the blond boy was gone, as were the other adults he had been with.

"It will only take a moment," Roger said as he led Chloé away, and with the departure of the other officers, the suite became empty once more.

---

Ladybug felt her strength and awareness be pulled into a black hole, stretching her awareness thin and sparse. She assumed she could get hurt or killed. She never expected the Eiffel Tower to be the cemetery for her career, but at least it would leave an immemorable tombstone. A peaceful rest erased her sense of identity.

The blasts from above induced a reawakening.

Her eyed widened as heroes from the sky lowered themselves like a host of guardian angels. Not only did she have one knight in shining armor to save her; she had six.

The rain of blue energy collided with the monsters, and with an orange glow the ones hit with the energy shrank into little balls. After only one volley there were more balls than beings, and the Guardians converged as they alighted.

Ladybug felt herself fall but did not hit the ground. One of the sky knights had done the improbable and caught her. She was still too far out of it to determine which acquaintance had saved her, but she felt her feet placed on the ground and felt herself recharge.

One of the knights, a larger one, trampled over the balls in order to blast more of the monsters. Ladybug's stomach flipped upside down. Even if she could restore the humanity of those creatures, the thought of destroying an opponent made her ill. One of the heroes put a hand on her shoulder. This Guardian had a body shape that suggested she was female.

"Don't worry," Ash said upon seeing the face Ladybug made, "they're not people. They're henchmen that are part-organic, part-robot."

"So, this wasn't the work of supervillain?" Ladybug asked.

"Not the supervillains you're used to dealing with," Marty said as he phased through a stray Blitz Borg, which was soon felled by a teammate's blast. Ladybug had not recalled seeing the hero in orange and white, and her mind was overwhelmed by the figures in football helmets. It only another series of shots for the monsters to all be contained inside inert, innocuous spheres. He and the other Guardians dusted themselves off then approached Ladybug.

"I had no idea there were so many of you," Ladybug stated.

"And we had no idea you'd come short-handed," Ricky commented. "Where is the other guy?"

"Cat Noir and I work as a team, but we also know when we can each handle something on our own."

"Yeah," Ish replied, "but you would have been in real trouble if we hadn't arrived. There's no way you could handle these Blitz Borgs, especially when they can siphon off nearby energy sources. You've got to let your partner know."

Ladybug slid one half of the yo-yo and dialed Cat Noir's phone, but after she raised it to her head, his recorded greeting played.

"Cat Noir," she said after the message ended. "I'm at the Eiffel Tower with the Guardians. If you see any monsters, don't get too close. They can drain your energy." She hung up and a sigh slipped from her lips.

"They probably locked up his phone," Troy explained. "It'll be faster if I do a fly-by and pick him up."

"Huh?" Her question stopped the Guardian in gold and white from leaving.

"Wait...You don't know where he is, do you?" Ash asked.

"It's important for us to know as little about each other as we can," Ladybug admitted.

"Why?"

"Because if we knew each other's identity, it would be disaster." The cold broken future of Cat Blanc grabbed her at the core at and shook it.

"We understand," Ish declared. "If that's how you play it, it's cool. But we can work a lot better as a team if we're all on the same page."

"Speaking of pages," Troy said. "I think we just fell for the oldest one in the book, There's something wrong. How did that attack get broadcast across every screen?"

"You're right," Tua seconded. "And the Anticorians are never far behind their Blitz Borgs."

"The Anti-what?" Ladybug asked.

"The Anticorians are people from another planet," Ricky explained. "They're the ones who control the Blitz Borgs."

"Space aliens exist?" Ladybug asked. "Here and now?"

"Yep," Ish answered, "but these ones are just like us humans...almost. These specific Anticorians are bad."

"So they're like your version of Hawk Moth."

"Kinda." Ish put his gloved hand on the chin of his helmet. "Remember that football you created yesterday. That's a Megacore. That's what we protect and what our enemies are after."

"Just like Hawk Moth and the Miraculous."

"Except Megacores contain the energy of the community associated with the teams. Taking one isn't quite like taking a Miraculous. We can still transform if the enemy gets its hands on one, but the loss of a Megacore affects an entire population."

"If anything," Ash elaborated, "whenever they take a Megacore, it's kind of like when a supervillain attacks Paris. We have to get it back out of enemy hands ASAP."

"So is that the type of energy you're looking for?" Ladybug asked.

"No, all the Megacores are across the ocean. They're protected by another line of defense."

"We noticed there was Anticorian energy coming from Paris," Ricky elaborated. "We also learned that there was Anticorian material that recently appeared here, but we keep running into interference."

"What type of interference?" Ladybug asked.

"Your Miraculous," Ish answered.

"And it's giving off an echo that's throwing off our sensors," Troy commented. "It seems like the Miraculouses use a similar energy to the Anticorians. So does Hawk Moth's hocus pocus."

"Are you suggesting the Miraculous is alien technology?" Ladybug asked.

"We don't know," Ish admitted, "But we do know that there is a large chunk of Anticorian material somewhere in the city."

"We could use a hand looking for it," Ash requested. "And you didn't use your Lucky Charm!"

Ladybug grabbed her yo-yo, but before she could throw it a loud sound cut through the air.

"Akuma alert!" a female voice announced from sirens.

"What's this?" Tua asked. "Another false alarm?"

Ladybug looked at a nearby billboard which showed a figure skating through the air that homed in on the Eiffel Tower.

"No," Ladybug explained, "...this one is real. A supervillain is heading towards us."

"I'm ready," Ricky said.

"We don't know what types of powers this supervillain has. Usually, villains don't come to us. We go after them."

"That just means we'll be playing defense," Ish said. "Time for a new game plan."

The seven warriors prepared to battle the villain that sliding on the sky and was ready to take the earrings away from Ladybug. They were not going to let the enemy take possession of them if they could help it.

---

The hallways of Le Grand Paris were not used to people running in them, but Warren, Maryse, Pierre, and Adrien ran on the carpeted floors. Warren hated thinking hard, but the events of tonight left him no choice. Too many nights his father had been working on his project, and Warren recognized that weight of parental neglect on Adrien at a first glance. If Hawk Moth had been anyone other than Adrien's father, the boy would have been targeted by now.

By contrast, Arsène and his parents were open with each other and the easy rapport they shared was something neither Warren nor Adrien would ever have. The boy-turned-wolf didn't know how good he had it. Of course, he was akumatized, so he wasn't in a grateful mood. But akumatization was like Anticorian technology; it could only bring out and corrupt what was already there, and the boy had been corrupted out of being wrongfully accused.

That meant this glee at his new form was separate from his akumatization.

The easy answer was this boy was a brat.

Warren had been a brat. Arsène may have been spoiled, but in the few minutes Warren had interacted with him, it was clear he was just like those Guardians, just like Adrien, listening to the angels on his shoulder. That meant he was no brat.

Between him and Adrien there were too many teenagers that had made their way into the crawl space of Warren's heart. He shouldn't have been worrying about them. He should have been worried about getting back to the E.E.L., or the Anticorians, or even those Guardians who always showed up when he never needed them, not the happy family that Hawk Moth broke up.

The family he never had. The family that Adrien used to have.

Warren and the other neared a staircase when the familiar ring. It was Mayor Bourgeois

"After further review," Roger began, "we determined that we made a tiny mistake. Arsène was not responsible for the disappearance of the Garnet Gean. Two of the hotel staff were found outside unconscious. We also have an eyewitness who noticed some unusual activity outside the hotel. Turns out it's a good thing this guy didn't buzz off when we told him to."

Roger roughly grabbed a man with white T-shirt with Jagged Stone's logo on it. His light yellow hair was tipped with pink

"There were these two clockpunk cosplayers," Vincent Aza testified. " I got pictures of them and what they turned into."

"I'll gladly take a look" Warren insisted. Vincent reached out to Warren with his camera, but Roger pushed the arm of the photographer down.

"Sorry," Roger replied, "that's classified and part of an ongoing explanation."

"Ms. Laraque," Mayor Bourgeois greeted with a saccharine submission, "I deeply apologize."

"My son has been brainwashed by Hawk Moth because of you," Maryse answered, "and 'I deeply apologize' is the best you can offer?"

"Complimentary stay at the famed Suite 36?" Mayor Bourgeois scrunched his shoulders.

"I am not going to stay one more minute in this hotel! I am going after my son and you will be lucky if this hotel does not become my property after tonight!"

Maryse turned her back to the mayor and headed for the stairs then ran down them, with Pierre beside her and the pair of Warren and Adrien trailing them like segments of a caterpillar. The hard soles and heels of the four rattled the stairs and ricocheted in the staircase. Pierre pulled out his cell phone and dialed as he ran, not missing a step.

"Meet us out front with the car," he said into the driver. "We'll be there."

After getting the verbal confirmation, the call ended and the four ran down the stairs. The four souls became three as Adrien stopped. Warren cast a backwards glance with a smirk, but pretended as though he did not notice the absence of the boy he was supposed to protect and ran down the stairs with the other adults. Adrien opened his coat. Plagg flew out of one inner jacket pocket while Adrien took the magnet out of the other one. Mimicking Arsène's earlier act, he pressed the magnet against the case and opened it up and slid his phone out.

"Whew!" Plagg exclaimed. "All of that running made me tired. It's time for a break." Adrien wanted to laugh out of sheer anxiety, as the kwami had been carried the entire way.

"No time," Adrien fired back. "We have to help Ladybug and get Arsène back to normal. Plagg, claws out!"

Plagg was pulled into the ring on Adrien's finger and in a wave of chartreuse light, Adrien changed into Cat Noir. He launched himself up the stairs with timed leaps and reached the roof entrance. As he kicked open the door, he saw the Eiffel Tower in the distance and approached it with jump after jump.

---

A couple of supervillains had left their roost on a roof and rested on their feet in an alley. Lady Wifi bent her knee and pressed the sole of her boot against the side of a building, while Bubbler did the same. Neither of them needed the vantage point of a rooftop any longer, and the closed in darkness of the alleyway was much more cozy than the open air. Lady Wifi looked at her phone as a second klaxon warned of danger. She pressed her lips together and laughed, preventing her mirth from becoming a full guffaw.

"Hawk Moth's finally entered the game," Lady Wifi remarked. "This akuma alert isn't us."

"I wonder who he got this time," Bubbler said.

"Oh, you have to see this to believe it."

Lady Wifi projected a screen in mid-air that showed the Parisian skyline with a figure trailing across it. Unlike the heroes they were used to facing, the figure did not leap, swing, twirl a staff or even outright fly. The traveler was a harlequin with the face of a wolf, gliding through the sky with two magical blades under his feet, traversing the air like a cartoon figure that did not know he was supposed to fall.

"Is this doggie skating on air?" Bubbler asked. "How totally lame. And it's seven against one. Not fair."

At those words, a cough came from a garbage can that should not have been able to breathe, followed by the can making sounds it shouldn't have made by clearing its throat and sniffing. Pink and red eyes bored at the incongruous noise, only to blink and nod once in agreement.

The man inside of it had no idea what hit him.

---

Maryse, Pierre, and Warren made it down the hotel lobby where an attendant stood surrounded by pouched. Pierre handed the three pouches to the attendant, who unlocked the containers. She gave him back his phone as well as that of his wife and son, and Maryse grabbed her phone from him. Warren handed his pouch over to the same attendant, who quickly snapped open the pouch with her tool. As efficient as she was, Maryse and Pierre had already separated several paces from him. They stood across the bespectacled doorman who placed himself in the middle of the entrance

"Madame," the doorman said, "this building is under lockdown due to a new akuma alert. A supervillain was sighted in the area."

"Get out of my way!" Maryse yelled.

"We cannot have esteemed guests such as yourself placed in danger."

"You're going to be the one in danger if you don't get out of our way."

"Indeed," Warren added, "I just saw Cat Noir as he was chasing the villain. He's headed away from here."

"A likely story," the doorman said.

"Why take a look and see for yourself?"

Warren gestured to the glass and the butler Cat Noir jumped from the hotel side to another rooftop.

"He wants us to follow him," Warren said quickly.

The doorman relented and walked over to a panel. He pressed a code which unlocked the door with a click. Maryse, Pierre, and Warren all exited at the same time.

"An impressive ruse," Maryse commented softly.

"You can catch more people with lies than salt and vinegar," Warren advised in return. As he spoke, a light gray sedan approached the front of the hotel.

"Thank you for the assist," Pierre replied, "but where is Adrien?"

"We must have lost him in the stairway," Warren said. "You two go ahead. I'll catch up."

The sedan stopped. Pierre opened the door for his wife, who entered the car in a dive, then slid inside it himself. He closed the door with a slam and the sedan sped away from the Le Grand Paris, heading towards the Eiffel Tower and becoming part of the Parisian nightlife.

Warren pondered the best way of getting across town discretely, but a notification vibrated his phone. Warren swiped the phone and read the text.

"Congratulations," Warren read aloud, "you have won the winning bid on item #2098. Please meet at the designated area to collect your prize."

Warren chuckled then headed back inside Le Grand Paris, as the doorman raised an eyebrow. He would attend to this business at once; after all, it would take a minute or five for both the supervillain and the superhero chasing him to reach the Eiffel Tower. Even with all six Guardians by the side of the heroes, taking down a supervillain would need another ten minutes to play out.

That was more than enough time he needed to grab the item and get to the Eiffel Tower his own way.

---

Ladybug twirled her yo-yo and tracked the sky with her eyes. She remained at attention yet visible, while the Guardians remained cloaked by their technology. The Guardians had access to the akuma alerts, and footage of the villain came in through their feeds.

"Disguise your coverage," Ish commanded. "When he spots us, make him think we're running a Cover 4."

"Did you say Cover 4 or Clover 4?" Marty asked, "Because we could really use a four-leaf clover right now."

"Not now, Marty."

Those words were the last before the supervillain arrived, gliding in air. Moonocle had lowered in his journey as though skating downhill, so how he was only a few meters above Ladybug. Yet when he stopped his forward motion, he did not fall, but maintained his mid-air vantage point. For a quarter of second, she was struck by his appearance, not certain whether to be amused or worried. The lupine harlequin reminded her of the furry clown from a few days ago, and the verisimilitude of seeing him in person made her worry. She had fought supervillains that did not look threatening before, only to be taken aback by their abilities. She did not want to repeat that mistake.

"The moonlight tonight is insufficient for an inspection, but not for a magic trick," Moonocle announced. "For my unseen audience, I will make the superhero of Paris, Ladybug, disappear!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" Ladybug shouted in reply.

"We'll see once tonight's show is over."

He began to skate in a wide circle, and Ladybug followed his movement. A golden-white crescent formed between his claws and after a few mid-air loops, he threw the handle-less sickle at Ladybug.

She rolled and dodged to her right to avoid the energy, expecting to hear it collide with the ground. He then skated in the air slightly in the same direction as she had moved as she continued to twirl. It was then she realized she had not heard an impact of the crescent, and felt something whizz by her right side.

It was too late for Ladybug to dodge the returning cutter, which snatched her yo-yo and delivered it back to Moonocle. He caught the crescent and the yo-yo dispersed. It reappeared on his belt, but there were warning beeps buzzing in her left ear and pink energy ate away at her costume, revealing patches of flesh.

He had captured her right earring.

"It's nothing personal, Ladybug," Moonocle announced. "I merely want to entertain you and the six friends you planned to ambush me with." He tilted his head slightly. "If my ears don't deceive me, I'll soon be able to collect the other treasure I'm after I'm done with your partner."

Ladybug felt her heart pounding through her chest. The Eiffel Tower had no cover for her to hide in. In desperation, she scrambled and tumbled behind one of the four feet of the tower, pressing herself as small as she could into the corner. In response, she heard footsteps approach, and two of the Guardians became visible. The first was the skinny Guardian with the gray and white suit, while the second was the largest Guardian with the dark blue secondary color. The smaller Guardian spread out her arms protectively and faced Ladybug.

"Don't worry," the Guardian said, "I already know who you are, Marinette."

Ladybug could not protest. The mask was eroding from her face as quickly as the other parts of her costume.

"It's me, Ash from class," the girl with PK2 on her helmet continued. "Last time you protected me. This time, I'll cover you."

"I have a debt to pay, too," Tua said. "No one is getting past this block!"

Tua let his body grow bigger, his increased size covering Ladybug and her disappearing costume. She could not even react to her identity becoming known or to the identities of her saviors; she was just glad there were people here to protect her.

---

Lady Wifi and Bubbler continued to watch the events at the Eiffel tower on the screen Lady Wifi generated. A third figure in their midst was present but unable to share their view. Two neon pink vertical bars were enclosed in a circle of the same color. The symbol hovered in front of the miniscule man that had been foolish enough to follow them in a garbage can. The man was still and his cell phone rested on the ground, its screen cracked from the impact and facing the expanse above.

Still Lady Wifi pouted at the wolf that had thrown the crescent boomerang, for it to return with the treasure he sought.

The latest villain managed to get her Miraculous, or at least half of it.

Lady Wifi regretted not grabbing the earrings when she had the chance in her first encounter with Ladybug. She had teleported away at Hawk Moth's suggestion and it had led to her downfall. This new supervillain had accomplished more in a single throw than she had any of the times when awakened by Hawk Moth.

"Maybe we can show the world Ladybug's identity," she thought aloud. "Then she'll know what it's like to never be able to wear a Miraculous again."

Lady Wifi enlarged the screen and groaned. The angle she had set her camera captured the fight, but Ladybug was hidden by both a foot of the Eiffel Tower and two Guardians.

"They're covering her! " she complained. "Get out of the way."

"You want to get closer for a better angle?" Bubbler asked.

She zoomed the video out again so she could see the whole battlefield.

"No need. As long as the Guardians, Ladybug, and Cat Noir are all here, we've done our job."

She kicked the garbage can out of spite, knowing the figure inside it would not be able to scream.

---

Cat Noir bounced from rooftop to rooftop while there were houses to pounce on. He ran without thinking, only slightly aware that he would run out of rooftops before reaching the Eiffel Tower. His lady was in danger and he needed to save her. Even though the events on the billboards he passed showed the Guardians coming to the rescue, he did not slow his approach.

He reached the edges of the building that were closest to the structure and assessed the fight from a distance. Moonocle was still in the air, although he was much lower than he was at Le Grand Paris. He was still a considerable distance from Ladybug and watched as had twirled her yo-yo. Moonocle made a crescent-shaped sickle appear between his claws and threw it at the superheroine. It narrowly missed Ladybug the first time, and clipped her a second time, grabbing both her yo-yo. Immediately, pink energy began to eat holes in her costume. Cat Noir knew that her yo-yo wasn't the only possession the crescent had struck.

Ladybug had made her way to one of the feet of the tower and was hidden from view. Cat Noir felt his arm throw his stick at Moonocle as a reflex, not even recognizing his act until the staff was in the air. The baton spun through the air like a sidewise helicopter blade, only for Moonocle to sling the crescent-shaped sickle he held at it. The weapons collided, but the staff was carried by the crescent boomerang back to Moonocle. The reappeared on the belt of the clown wolf next to Ladybug's earring, fastened to the black band. Cat Noir landed on his feet and looked up at the supervillain.

"If it isn't the Parisian phantom thief," Moonocle greeted with a lilt, "Chat Noir."

"Sorry, you have me mistaken for someone else," Cat Noir replied. "I'm not after cat's-eyes since I have two of my own."

"A fellow fan! You have good taste in anime. Maybe we can chat about it once you're a ring lighter."

Moonocle threw the crescent-shaped boomerang at Cat Noir's head. Cat Noir tucked and rolled to avoid it. The crescent went past him before a second whir blew in the other direction. The right side of his head felt light and it was only when Moonocle caught the boomerang and made it disappear did Cat Noir realize the top of his head was missing one of his cat ears.

"Got your ear," Moonocle teased as he twirled the black triangle. After a few seconds, he passed the triangle over his belt and it hung there without a hook alongside the earring.

Cat Noir ignored the growing imbalance in his hearing and equilibrium. As long as Moonocle was at a distance, he would be able to launch a boomerang to fetch what he wanted. Without her earring, Ladybug wouldn't be able to help him. He would have to figure out how to beat him on his own.

"You're going to have to get closer if you want my Miraculous," Cat Noir needled.

"I'll have to purloin the hard way," Moonocle replied with a sigh. "I don't mind performing a body check."

Moonocle retracted the skates and dropped to the ground, landing with a three-point stance. He did not bother to stand up, but instead charged at Cat Noir by running on all fours. Cat Noir took a defensive stance, ready to engage him and counting the number of times the supervillain propelled himself off the ground in his run. After one small bound, Moonocle did not land with his hands, but instead raised his arms and shoulder as if leaning forward while standing, and he sped toward Car Noir even faster without lifting his feet. The change in speed and posture caught Cat Noir by surprise and he bounded out of the way. Cat Noir looked down at Moonocle's shoes.

Moonocle was hovering a few inches off the ground and the blades had returned, allowing him to skate slightly above the ground. The wolfman zoomed past Cat Noir as if slightly on ice, but he was in control of his skid and spun around. If Moonocle had followed up with another crescent-shaped boomerang, Cat Noir would not have been able to react.

Instead, Moonocle bared sharp every tooth in his mouth as he sniffed.

"I know that scent!" he growled in a snarl. "You liar! You were just trying to set me up."

The neon butterfly appeared in front of Moonocle's muzzle again.

"Moonocle," Hawk Moth ordered, "tell me who Cat Noir is, right now!"

Moonocle opened his mouth, only for the sound and sting of energy to ram into his muzzle. Moonocle shook his head and his fur looked left and right as the Guardians became visible, aiming their wrists at him. Quickly he readied another crescent shaped boomerang of light and held

"Hey, Moonie Clown!" Troy called. He waved and separated from the others in a burst of speed. Moonocle followed him with his nose, but another sound distracted him.

"Catch me if you can," Marty taunted from the opposite direction.

Moonocle threw the crescent cutter in his hand. The projectile should have hit Marty directly in the head. Instead it passed through the Guardian as if he were not there, and Moonocle settled for catching the sickle of light upon its return.

"Nice powerset," Moonocle replied, "Mind if I borrow-?"

"Super Freeze!" Ricky shouted in interruption.

The Guardian generated a blue column of light from his hand which intersected with Moonocle's pants, swaddling him from the thighs down with a mound of frozen water. Moonocle would have laughed at the irony of being trapped by ice if he weren't overwhelmed but the oppressive cold. Before he could react, his arms were suddenly pinned against his body. A blue ribbon was wrapped around him, generated by the trail of Troy. He ran ever tightening revolutions around Moonocle, then suddenly braked, which cut off the ribbon like a roll of tape. Moonocle tried to twist his shoulders, but they would not move.

"Our powers aren't for lease," Troy answered belatedly. "Besides, it looks as if you're all tied up right now. I don't think you can take on any more responsibilities."

Moonocle growled again, but none of the Guardians even flinched. After a moment of token resistance, he shivered and cowed his head. Ish pulled the black, curved triangle and the metal staff off the belt of Moonocle, while Ricky grabbed the spotted earring that was nearby.

"I'll take that load off you," Ish said as tossed the cat ear and staff to Cat Noir in separate lobs. Cat Noir caught both and quickly set the cat ear back in place on top of his head while resting the staff at the small of his back. Ricky tossed the earring towards Ash. She grabbed it then bent down to Ladybug, who was mostly Marinette, then handed her the earring. Marinette quickly fastened the earring and her Ladybug costume renewed itself in a pink energy that painted her body. Restored, Tua shrank and pivoted to allow her to pass. Ladybug headed towards the group with the two Guardians behind her.

"I'm jealous," Cat Noir remarked facetiously as they drew near. "Looks like you two Guardians had the best seats in the house."

"Huh?" Tua asked cluelessly. "Did I miss something?"

"No," Troy responded, "because there's a big play alert, or maybe I should say a big hit coming up."

All eight heroes formed a tight circle around Moonocle. Ish raised his hand and a wave of heart burst towards the pile of ice and it sublimated into steam. Despite having use of his legs, Moonocle did not struggle or attempt to escape. His drive had evaporated with the ice and the supervillain whimpered at them with literal puppy dog eyes.

"Now you wouldn't hit a wolf with glasses, would you?" Moonocle asked rhetorically.

"Three guesses where the akuma is," Ricky said. He flipped his palms and swayed his fingertips to Cat Noir. "Do you want to do the honors?"

"Cataclysm," he said as black destructive energy sprouted from his hand. He delivered the destruction to the monocle with a single tap of his finger. The circle of glass cracked, slid off the fur and rolled onto the ground. A black butterfly emerged from the fallen hoop and flapped its wings away from the supervillain.

Ladybug turned her eyes to the black butterfly and twirled her yo-yo.

"No more evildoing for you little akuma," she said. "Time to de-evilize."

Ladybug threw her yo-yo forward into the sky with a grunt and swung her carriage so it gobbled the akuma. The round case returned to her hand. She opened it up to let the white butterfly flutter skyward.

"Bye-bye, little butterfly," she said with a little wave.

Ladybug readied her hand to throw her Lucky Charm into the air out of habit, only for the air to remind her that she had no object in her hand. As Moonocle faded away in a crumbling black mass, Arsène was left in his stead. The supervillain had not caused any damage, but Ladybug missed the idea of fixing what went wrong. Her eyes turned to Cat Noir and the six heroes.

They were her Lucky Charm. She couldn't have won this battle without them.

---

The waning half moon poured its available light into the window to Hawk Moth's lair, but Hawk Moon met its passive light with ferocious frustration. This time his supervillain had half of the Ladybug Miraculous and taken out the heroine of commission, and he knew who Cat Noir was. Victory had slipped from his grasp and was now a fantasy, not a memory.

Determination pulled its unseen wires and strung the anger of Hawk Moth and pulled him tight. Without additional heroes, Ladybug and Cat Noir would have been defeated. Instead, this was both an opportunity and precious information lost, and from the quick fade in negative emotions, Hawk Moth knew this boy would not become prey again to his akuma easily.

"Moonocle was eclipsed by a team effort," Hawk Moth surmised, "but your friends from the United States won't be here forever, Ladybug and Cat Noir, and when that day comes, I will have your Miraculouses!"

The seals returned to the window to block the weak moonlight from lair to let Hawk Moth stew in the darkness of his own heart.

---

At the Eiffel Tower there had been a battle between several superheroes and a supervillain. It was good entertainment for the two other supervillains who watched on a mid-air screen. Lady Wifi lowered her eyelids as she watched the furry clown wash away into a white-suited teenager.

"I have to admit," Lady Wifi commented, "without the fur he is kind of cute."

"Then maybe I can make him float just like a little cherub," Bubbler threatened as he grasped the bubble wand handle on his back. Lady Wifi tapped him, pausing his actions without any need for the use of her powers.

"Don't get jealous. Besides our job's done. Let's regroup." Lady Wifi tilted her head at the frozen man in their midst. "Thanks for the ride."

Lady Wifi faced her phone and crossed out the pause icon, then walked over to the dropped phone with Bubbler. The pair of supervillains embraced as they disappeared into the screen of the discarded phone, leaving a muttering, exasperated figure in their wake.

---

Bright light set against the dark skyscape matched the moods of the hearts of the heroes The six Guardians, Ladybug, and Cat Noir all formed a tight wheel of good fortune, with their eight right arms acting as spokes.

"Pound it!" they said in unison, smacking their knuckles. The eight then separated into their separate groups of six and two. Marty, Troy, and Tua stood towards the left while Rick, Ash, and Ish stood on the right.

"I think you guys should really reconsider your approach," Ricky said. "You can work better together if you know who each other are.

"Yeah," Marty began, "it's not like we won't see each other in—"

Troy's sharp elbow knocked into the space under Marty's chest plate and muted him.

"What he means is that we all have DNA scanner apps," Ricky covered.

"Just because you can't tell us doesn't mean I haven't already figured it out," the black clad superhero said.

"Cat Noir!" Ladybug yelled in annoyance.

Instead of answering vocally, a high-pitched beep pieces the air, and one of the green markings on Cat Noir ring disappeared.

"And that means I have to go," Cat Noir said to the crowd. "We'll be seeing each other soon!"

"It's getting late," Ish mentioned, "so we'd better pack it in."

"Flight app, engage!"

The six armored figures blasted off the ground and soared into the air, while Cat Noir jumped into the night. At the same time, Ladybug heard a groan from the white-suited teenager on the ground. He jostled himself back and forth before pushing off the ground with his hands and sitting up. Dirt from the street lined the front of his trousers and suitcoat. Ladybug squatted to get on his level.

"Is everything okay?" the heroine asked.

"Ladybug?" Arsène answered in confusion. "You're my third favorite superhero! But what are you doing here? Wait, this isn't..."

"You can tell me what's going on."

"I was just in a suite at Le Grand Paris trying to get away. They were going to take me away...and then..." He stopped his sentence and shifted his weight in preparation of standing. "So that's what it's like."

"It's okay," she said as she helped him stand up. "Who was going take you away?"

"They said I stole something," Arsène began. "I didn't but they weren't going to listen." He canvassed the ground in front of him. "Where's my monocle?"

Ladybug looked behind her and the circle of glass laid flat against the ground. Although the edge of circle had an unbroken border, the glass was still cracked. She picked it up and showed it to him.

"It got destroyed in the fight," Ladybug explained. "Usually I'd be able to fix it, but..."

"...you don't have your Lucky Charm, " Arsène summarized as he took it. "Either it was a really easy fight for you or a really hard one." He gasped before raising his voice. "That means I'm going to be on the Ladyblog!"

"Did you need your monocle to see?"

"No." He traced the circular frame before stuffing it inside his jacket pocket. " It was my first cosplay prop and had a lot of memories, but now I can get a better one! Do you know anyone who makes props like that?"

Ladybug smiled at the thought she could help as her regular self, but her intended suggestion never made it to her lips. A pair of headlights neared him, but stopped as the car to which they belonged became still. In recognition, Arsène pushed his shoulder backs. Pierre and Maryse exited the vehicle. Both ran over to the

"My son!" Pierre cried as he hugged Arsène tight. "Thank you, Ladybug, for curing him."

"You have my gratitude for saving our son," Maryse said,

"If you need me to vouch for you," Ladybug offered, "I can talk to whoever accused you."

"No need," Pierre replied. "They apologized and said it was a mistake. Besides, I think the night has been long enough. It's time to head home."

"Never run, again, you hear?" Maryse insisted to Arsène, "If you run, they'll catch you and..." She lifted her hand and closed it as if crushing a can. "The law's got four legs and you only have two."

"I know," Arsène said. "I'm sorry." He watched the superhero back away, her presence no longer needed. "Thanks, Ladybug."

"Bug out!" Ladybug yelled. The family waved to her as she pushed herself through the air and swung on the string of her yo-yo.

Nearly as soon as she was gone another person approached them. Warren Zimmer seemed to arrive out of nowhere. Quickly Warren looked around and Adrien had similarly apparated. From the perspective of the family, they had arrived together even though they had been separated ever since before they left the hotel.

"I said I was going to catch up with you," Warren said. "I just had to get Adrien here."

"Yeah," Adrien said, "I got lost, but Warren came back for me and led me here." Adrien was perturbed at Warren's quick lie, but shook it off with a nod. Whether this man was covering for Adrien or covering for himself, the cover was needed.

"I also got the winning bid." Warren pulled out a paper bag from his tuxedo jacket pocket, then stretched it out to Arsène. "Here you go, kid. Think of it as an early birthday present."

Arsène reached for it, but Maryse stepped between the two and grabbed the bag. In spite of her interception, gratitude warmed as wrapped his arms around Warren.

"Thank you, Mr. Zimmer," Arsène said. "I won't open my birthday present early."

"Now that we have our phones," Adrien said to the teenager, "we can add each other as contacts if you want."

"Sure." Arsène and Adrien began to look at their phones and worked at the screen with furious thumbs, only for notifications to emerge on their screens at the same time. The two boys posed side by side for a quick, shared selfie and a flash went off. Arsène felt something drop into his pocket with the light. Maryse shook her head, but Pierre and Warren glared at each other.

"Why?" Pierre asked Warren.

"I know the look of a father in dismay over his son," Warren explained, his voice slowly descending in pitch, speed, and liveliness. "I'm too familiar with that look for a different reason, being a disappointment. But we both know that's not the case for him. Just make sure you can be there for your son as much as you can." His voice dropped into a register bereft of all joy. "I wish my father had that same amount of concern for me when I was younger."

The two middle-aged men locked eyes, then shook hands again. Their grips were even harder this time but still at equal. The released each other and Warren faced Maryse.

"Thank you," she said. "You may call me Maryse, now."

The trio walked over to the sedan. This time, the driver did escape from the vehicle and opened the passenger doors for Pierre, Maryse, and Arsène, and the three entered the card. The driver closed the doors then quickly entered the vehicle. As the car drove away Arsène waved to Adrien on the sidewalk with the magnet in his fingers, and Adrien waved back. Once the car had been driven away, Adrien looked at his phone and saw the updated auction site with a table of listed winners.

The Garnet Gean was grayed out as unavailable. Adrien read the rest of the list until he saw the band he and Arsène had been looking at.

"Winning bid placed by Warren Zimmer," the text read.

"The site lists the bid as under your name, not the Agreste account," Adrien noted.

"You found me out," Warren admitted, "I had two accounts, one for your father, and one for me."

"That means...you didn't use my father's money to pay for that."

"Cost me my entire signing bonus and month's salary, but it's worth it." He cast a glance at the car was soon lost in the Parisian traffic, then looked at another approaching set of headlights. "I'm not here for the money."

"Warren, I can have my father reimburse you for that."

"No need. Besides, I still can charge lunch to the Agreste account. It's not like I'm not going to eat. Let's go home."

Adrien looked with slight dismay as the white limousine that stopped in the open space on the street beside them. Adrien's bodyguard got out of the car and opened the back door. Nudged by Warren, Adrien entered the limo. Freedom was a sweet illusion and when he got into the car, he felt a part of his soul go back into its cage.

---

Parisian sewers were dark by day and darker by night, but the light from the monitors battled the darkness and illuminated the area in a stalling, stubborn effort. That light reflected off the red chunk of rock in the fingertips of Stellaria. Zich grunted in appreciation, while Angkoro crossed his arms with pride. Lady Wifi and Bubbler looked at the material in amazement; they had never seen anything like the gem in the world.

"Excellent work," Angkoro congratulated. "Sticking to the plan has resulted in a victory for us."

Lady Wifi smirked as the compliment accelerated her assuredness and the screaming that was in the back of her head was fading fast. Villainy was more fun than the Ladyblog ever would be.

"What exactly are you planning on doing with that?" Lady Wifi asked, a last question escaping from the ever-increasing acceptance in her heart.

"The same thing that we plan to do with our other guest," Stellaria said. "Use it as leverage."

The scintillating rock pointed its light to the stasis cocoon at the edge of the lair. Bubbler and Lady Wifi followed with their eyes as the light of the Anticorian mass reflected into the chamber, which had a translucent cover. Inside of it, a dark-haired woman with a red streak in her hair. She slept in her dark suit under the glass, trapped between recovery and respite.

Nathalie Sanceour rested at the edge of life and death, protected from the mocking laughter bouncing off the walls outside of her chamber by a cylinder of Anticorian technology.

---

Some cities never slept, but the city of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania officially shut down as of 2 a.m. and was no longer able to keep its sleepy eyes open. By contrast, near the river, a sentry stood underground. The Steelers Rusher stood in front of the vault under Heinz Field, his red gloves wrapped around closed fists. As the welder's mask rested atop his helmet, he felt the weight of his actual name in his head.

Blowtorch.

Among themselves, the Rusherz called themselves by their names. They had extended that courtesy to Ish when he was the sole Guardian, but with the expanding of the heroic team relations became less personal even as they remained cordial. He didn't mind being called the Steelers Rusher, but Blowtorch would always be his name.

His mind turned to the Megacore behind the gate to his back. Even though it was off-season, the Steelers Megacore would be kept at Heinz Field. Having all 32 Megacores in Canton's Safe Zone would be too tempting of a target, especially with the Guardians out of the United States.

The thoughts were pushed out of the back of his mind as an explosion tore a hole in the vault, knocking him both forward and near-senseless. He had no notion of up and down, the world was a lighted blue and in between his helmet and his brain.

He shook his head to regroup. His vision and sense of position steadied as a tall shadow covered his body. The next shadow Blowtorch perceived was the strengthening darkness of unconsciousness, where even the fractured sense of self was lost.