To Lyger 0: Anything is possible…

"What the hell was that!?" Cavalière Lavande stalked up to Hunda-Beekaa and slapped him resoundingly across the face as the Shadow swept back into the small campsite deep in the forest on the plateau above the refugee camp. A couple Dark Acolytes, accompanied by a trio of Dembo's militiamen, limped into the camp after the Shadow, all of them sporting bruises and injuries. Cavalière Lavande could sense the anger and frustration from them, but all of her attention remained focused on the frail old man in front of her.

"Watch your attitude, girl." Hunda-Beekaa raised an eyebrow at her as his eyes darkened. Rage bubbled to the surface, pushing aside the excitement and malice that had dominated his emotions moments earlier. His grip on his staff tightened, and Cavalière Lavande narrowed her eyes, clutching her cane with one hand. As his emotions cleared out into resolved, Cavalière Lavande dropped one foot back and raised her cane defensively.

"Don't try it," she seethed, not taking her eyes off of him. Around them, she could sense a group beginning to gather: Dembo had emerged from his tent, as had the Dark Acolytes' Heirodeacon. Ujinamizi loomed head and shoulders above the men, his emotions still twisted around and confused to Cavalière Lavande's senses.

The two of them remained in that position for a long moment before finally Hunda-Beekaa relaxed, though his mouth remained set in a scowl. His eyes darted around the assembly before returning to Cavalière Lavande. "That was exactly what we discussed," he informed her curtly. "We have great power on our side, but we do not yet possess the power to do what you wish to do, do we?"

She shook her head slowly, not taking her eyes off of him. "No. We do not. Even though that is what you promised when I agreed to help you."

"And that is exactly what I intend to do," continued Hunda-Beekaa, eyeing her carefully. "Since the power is in the camp below, we must use the power we have to acquire the power we need. Whatever form that takes, whatever sacrifices are required, we must be prepared to use our power to accomplish our goal."

She folded her arms. "This isn't what I wanted," she retorted. "I said that no one could get hurt. I only joined you because you agreed that no one would get hurt! But that's not what happened today, is it? People did get hurt. My friends got hurt."

He scoffed, waving one hand dismissively. "What did you expect, child?" he demanded. "This is a war! People get hurt during wars! Injuries are to be expected. Although," he mused, raising an eyebrow and stroking his chin contemplatively, "none of the injuries appeared permanent, as your Ladybug repaired everything. That Ladybug Miraculous must be particularly powerful to undo such damage. If I could acquire it for myself…"

Cavalière Lavande narrowed her eyes. "Watch it: Ladybug is my friend. I'm not planning to take her miraculous forever. Or to hurt her."

"And yet she refused to help you do what was necessary to fix everything for you." He leered at her. "You are wearing kid gloves toward your so-called friends that you do not need to wear. They will not show such leniency or compassion to you – or to me." He cocked his head, staring at Cavalière Lavande suspiciously. "Tell me, are you regretting your decision to do it for yourself?"

Cavalière Lavande frowned, staring back at Hunda-Beekaa without flinching. "I want him back," she acknowledged, folding her arms. "And I want to repair the damage to my city. So long as this is the way to accomplish those two objectives…" Behind her, she felt a wave of amusement from Dembo. She turned on him, eyes narrowed. "You don't like my goal?"

"Oh, I have no problem with your goal," he assured her, "so long as I still have the opportunity to carve out my piece once you've finished." He scoffed, his eyes flashing, and raised an eyebrow at her. "Perhaps, rather than Africa, that piece could be in France," he mused.

Cavalière Lavande frowned. "I don't know if I like that idea…"

He snorted. "And you prefer the present leadership of France?"

"Enough, Warlord," Hunda-Beekaa interjected, cutting off their argument. "We are seeking to accomplish your goal," he told Cavalière Lavande. His mouth set in a thin line, and Cavalière Lavande felt a flash of annoyance and irritation from him. "You cannot deny that."

She glared at him. "Not if it is going to come at the cost of innocent people getting hurt. And that is what happened today!"

"Perhaps, but that may be unavoidable," he pointed out. "Your friends–" he sneered "–are not about to give up and just give us what we want. We must take it for ourselves."

"That doesn't excuse your liberal use of force!" she shot back. "People in the camp were injured – in spite of my helper using exclusively nonlethal attacks. And that says nothing of what your other allies did from above! Shooting down into the camp!? What was the point of that?"

From behind her, Dembo cleared his throat. "Had your… helper performed as advertised, we could have secured the ridge and acquired the powers we needed without resorting to such tactics," he retorted, frowning. "Certainly not extensively. We simply needed enough of a distraction to infiltrate the camp and ambush the necessary heroes, but we did not get that. Instead, the heroes were alerted and reacted far too swiftly, necessitating a messier response."

"I never said that was okay!" Cavalière Lavande practically shouted. "If you had asked, I would have said 'no' right away!"

Dembo scoffed. "And that, my dear, is why you were not consulted."

Cavalière Lavande let out a growl, her eyes narrowed, and pulled the horseshoe from her back. She drew her arm back to throw, but Dembo did not flinch.

"Enough," interjected Hunda-Beekaa, frowning. "This internecine conflict is pointless. The fact of the matter is that whatever damage was done, whatever injuries were caused by this most recent fight, are no longer there." He raised an eyebrow, giving Cavalière Lavande an evaluating look. "It appears that with the Ladybug Miraculous, any damage can be undone. So, with the Ladybug Miraculous' power, could we not undo whatever hurts are caused in its acquisition?"

"Yes…"

"So, then, it seems that there is no problem with anything we do"

"Well…" Cavalière Lavande turned away, her stomach twisted up in knots. None of this was what she had agreed to. Chloe had almost gotten hurt – the Shadow had targeted her with fear. Aisha had gotten hurt. Nino had been shot at and tangled up by a Dark Acolyte's bolas, and Adrien had been thrown across the camp when he had taken a hit meant for Marinette. Cavalière Lavande's jaw clenched anxiously. Solo Act hadn't been supposed to hurt anyone – she was just supposed to cause a harmless distraction and get as many of the others out of the way as possible. But she had proven far more difficult to control than any previous helper she had created. Her mother's grief had just been overwhelming – not that she could blame her for it after what Audrey Bourgeois had said to her. But still. Her friends had gotten hurt. The camp had been practically upended. What was she doing, working with such horrible people? She could feel the anger and rage from the Heirodeacon: he would hurt or kill any miraculous user if it suited his needs. Might that include her sooner than later? Based on the predatory grin he always wore when looking at her, based on the desire that shone through his emotions right now, the only possible answer was that he could attack her at any moment. Or Ujinamizi. The Shunjar was the most confounding of everyone present. It would be so simple for him to tear her apart limb from limb if he turned on her. And Dembo and his men… never had she felt the emotions of a more bloodthirsty band of thugs and criminals. She was surrounded by terrible people. Maybe she wasn't cut out for this. Maybe she needed to stop. Maybe she could still return to the others.

And yet…

And yet she would be just as alone if she gave up. Max would still be dead. Her father would still be missing. Paris would still be a wasteland. The Tarasque would still be on the loose. Nothing would have changed, if she returned to the refugee camp right now.

She swallowed, suddenly sick. The one thing that would have changed is that everyone else would hate her for this. No one outside of this assembly really understood why she was doing what she was doing. The Heirodeacon might take away her miraculous; Ladybug almost certainly would take it away after she had Akumatized her mother to fight against the heroes.

She couldn't go back. She had to see it through.

Her shoulders slumped. "No. As long as you can still help me get the miraculous and stop the Tarasque and put everything back to the way it should be, I'll stay." She glared at Hunda-Beekaa. "But I'm not kidding: no one is getting hurt anymore!"

He scoffed. "Of course."

Behind Cavalière Lavande came a trace of amusement. She turned to fix her glare on Dembo. "Do you find that amusing?"

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "The fact that you think you can get what you want without hurting anyone?" he asked. "Frankly, I think you're naïve. People are always going to stand in your way. You can either force them to your side, or trample over them."

She folded her arms. "These are still my friends, even if they aren't doing the right thing."

"Perhaps they are," Hunda-Beekaa agreed. "Perhaps you could even return to them and ask for their help in accomplishing your goal. After turning on them and attacking them, I'm sure they will welcome you back with open arms…" He bared his crooked teeth in a malicious grin.

Cavalière Lavande groaned and stalked away from him, away from Dembo, away from the Heirodeacon and Ujinamizi and all the other men in the camp. There were less of the Dark Acolytes and of Dembo's minions than there had been. A couple of the Dark Acolytes gave her a look of suspicion as she passed, but Cavalière Lavande ignored them, striding away from them and further into the forest. She could hear her Miraculous starting to beep – she would need to get Nooroo some food, but she didn't know where the camp's food was. Looking around the low growth, the forest seemed promising. Finally she collapsed onto a fallen log, her elbows on her knees, and whispered, "Nooroo, Bright wings fall…"

With a flash of violet light, Nooroo emerged from the Butterfly Miraculous, leaving her as Cavalière Brune. Nooroo shivered and fluttered up to look her in the eye. "Mistress?" he squeaked, worry in his voice. "Are–are–" He swallowed. "Is everything all right?"

Cavalière Brune looked up at him, and her stomach clenched painfully on sensing the sadness from him. Her shoulders slumped. "What am I doing?" she asked him weakly, her lower lip trembling. "What am I supposed to do? Without Max…"

Nooroo patted a hand. "I can feel how much pain you're in," he told her, his antennae drooping. "But this – being here and working with these monsters – this is not the way to do it. You need your friends. You need to go back home."

Cavalière Brune glared at him. "You know we can't do that," she told him. "Not while the Tarasque is still around, while Paris is covered in that poison." She sighed heavily. "And that's the problem, isn't it?"

"Is this really what Max would want from you, though?" he demanded, folding his arms. "Max would want you to keep going!"

"Yeah, well Max isn't here anymore, is he?"