To Lyger 0: Papon did, but the others aren't interested in playing it safe. Considering how vulnerable Paris is at the moment, there is a lot they can do by taking advantage right now.

To armadas: There are still a couple stories left in "The Colossus Saga," but there will be a little fluff in there. Eventually. But it will be that much sweeter for all the stress and trauma that came before!

Stopping on the street running past the Champ de Mars, Turing released the enormous wooden pallet he had been carrying in front of him, allowing it to drop to the ground with a clatter in front of the apartment building. Almost before it had landed, a dozen of the survivors huddled on the sidewalk rushed forward, pulling loose the bindings holding the shipment together. Quickly Turing deployed a small blade from his finger, slicing through the thickest plastic cord and releasing the contents of the pallet. As the cord fell away, the survivors grabbed food and clothing off of the pallet, those closest passing packages to those closer to the door. While the others moved things inside, a middle-aged man approached Turing and held out a hand. "It is good to see you again, Rene."

"And you as well, Turing. Thank you," Rene answered, giving his hand a firm shake. "I don't know where we would be without you – I'm sure we would have starved a week ago without the assistance."

Turing nodded, his mouth shifting up into a smile. "Of course; our supply is suboptimal, but we are happy to help in whatever way we can." He pointed toward a small box near the center of the pallet. "In addition to the other foodstuffs, I was able to procure a total of 16 assorted baked goods for you to distribute as you see fit."

Rene gave him a sad smile. "We appreciate the gesture," he responded, clapping Turing on the shoulder. "I think I'll save those for the kids, though. They need all the encouragement we can give them."

Turing hummed. "That is very well."

Rene furrowed his brows. "Do you have the…?"

Turing withdrew a bag from its pouch on his hip and passed it to Rene, whose shoulders sagged in relief. "Unfortunately, the pharmacy on Boulevard Saint-Germain was ransacked by looters last night," Turing apologized. "We have salvaged what we could, but there is only enough here for another five doses."

Rene nodded, waving his hand dismissively. "That's still five more doses than we had this morning! Thank you!"

"You are welcome. We will attempt to procure more medicine before that runs out."

With a nod, Rene folded his arms, examining Turing closely. "We had another four families come to take shelter here," he pointed out. "Our building is over capacity as it is."

"By approximately 32%, correct?"

Rene nodded. "Sounds about right." He frowned. "I'm sorry, but we really can't take anyone else. Do you think – will you be able to open another shelter?"

Turing hummed slowly. "I do not know for certain," he responded. "Crews are repairing another building further north; I estimate that they will complete their work in approximately four days. At that time we will have the capacity to reduce the number of refugees here to a more manageable level."

Relieved, Rene nodded. "We can hold out that long."

Turing scanned the street in either direction. "Very well. Then I must return." With a last handshake, Turing stepped back away from Rene and activated his jetpack, rising to hover a couple meters above the ground. Rene waved, and Turing gave him a quick nod as he ascended higher before beginning to bank toward the Mansion. He had only just reached that level, however, when a rapid infrared blinking drew his attention to a spot due north of his position. His eye receptors narrowed, focusing in on the drone in question, before he turned his attention toward the ground in front of and around that drone. On the ground, moving quickly between the deep indentations of the Tarasque's footprints, he spotted the figure of a man. Quickly scanning through his database, Turing pinpointed the location. "Confirm that this is approximately the last known location of Áquila Altíssimo?"

"Confirmed," the drone responded promptly.

His mouth set into a thin line, Turing wheeled in that direction and set his jets to their maximum speed, rocketing across the sky faster than thought. Ever since he had rebooted after the Tarasque fight, he had devoted his attention to three different pursuits. He had flown circuits around Paris to patrol through the ruins, searching for criminals in need of stopping. He had delivered supplies to Rene and those like him. And he had scoured the city for all of the miraculous that had been lost. Although they still lacked a definitive list of fallen heroes, he had seen enough of them fall during the fight to extrapolate an estimated number of casualties. And each of those casualties potentially represented another miraculous that could fall into the hands of a criminal and be misused. And few would be more dangerous in the wrong hands than the Eagle, which had resisted all search efforts heretofore. As Turing neared, his target turned to look up at him, his eyes wide in shock and surprise.

Turing spun around in a midair somersault, cut his jetpack, and dropped almost to the ground before reactivating it for a fraction of a second to reduce his fall speed less than a meter from the ground. He landed with his knees bent and raised himself to his full height, dropping one foot back in a defensive stance and pointing both arms at the man in front of him. Scanning the man's face, a name appeared immediately. "Monte-en-l'Air."

"In the flesh," he replied, smirking. Monte-en-l'Air slipped something into his pocket. "Or maybe not, in your case."

"You belong back in La Santé Prison," Turing informed him curtly. "If you surrender without incident, I will see that no harm comes to you. Otherwise–" He activated the energy pistols built into both forearms.

Monte-en-l'Air scoffed, his eyes darting up and down the street in both directions. "I don't think so, hero," he sneered, edging sideways out of the street toward the sidewalk, shadowed by Turing's fist. Monte-en-l'Air's eyes moved back and forth between the street, Turing's face, and Turing's fist. "After spending a few months behind bars, I'm starting to appreciate not having to look at the same four walls for 20 hours of every day. So I'm going to have to pass on that offer."

Turing's eyes narrowed, running through calculations, waiting for the man's first move. Suddenly, Monte-en-l'Air's legs tensed, and Turing shifted his stance slightly. Monte-en-l'Air jumped to one side, grabbing for a chip in the building's façade next to him. Even before he had reached it, however, Turing had already adjusted his aim and fired, gouging a clean hole in the brick right where his handhold had been. Monte-en-l'Air's eyes widened in shock as his hand slipped and he missed his handhold. He scrambled with both hands for a new handhold at the bottom of the new divot gouged into the brickwork, his fingers slipping as the building rapidly approached. Quickly he recovered just before impact and planted his foot against the wall, pushing off and soaring through the air to the side away from Turing, angling toward the streetlight a couple meters away from him at the street corner. Again Turing fired, and the streetlight's crossbar melted, clattering to the ground just before Monte-en-l'Air reached it. With a muttered curse, Monte-en-l'Air landed awkwardly at the base of the streetlight, stumbled once, and turned on Turing, pulling out an energy pistol as he did so.

"Oh, you want some of this?" he demanded, his eyes flashing with rage.

Turing stalked toward him, his wrist-mounted energy pistol raised. Monte-en-l'Air fired, moments after Turing did the same. Ozone filled the air as the beams crossed between them. Monte-en-l'Air's beam hit Turing in the fist, melting away some of his finish. Turing's shot struck Monte-en-l'Air's shoulder and charred a patch of his shirt. Monte-en-l'Air yelped and jumped back, hissing in pain and clutching his injured shoulder. Turing surged forward, crossing the distance between them in moments and drawing back his damaged fist, and drove it into Monte-en-l'Air's gut. Stumbling, Monte-en-l'Air stared at him in shock. Turing activated the taser built into his fist, which sparked angrily, and punched Monte-en-l'Air again. Monte-en-l'Air stumbled backward, and the taser dealt him a glancing blow as it shorted out, at which Monte-en-l'Air pushed away from Turing, turning to sprint away from him. Turing grabbed for Monte-en-l'Air, catching his hand on Monte-en-l'Air's jacket. He tugged on the jacket, even as Monte-en-l'Air pulled back in an effort to get away.

"You are coming with me!" Turing declared, his grip on the jacket tightening. He shot up into the air, pulling Monte-en-l'Air up with him so the man's feet almost left the ground.

"Not… likely!" grunted Monte-en-l'Air, pulling back as, with a rending sound, the jacket ripped. A hair tie fell from his pocket, and he tumbled to the ground, somersaulted forward, regained his balance, and sprinted away to the south.

Turing made to follow but paused, staring down at the hair tie lying on the sidewalk in confusion. Dropping back to the ground and deactivating his jetpack, he cycled through his database. Carefully he bent down and picked it up, examining it more closely before placing it in a pouch on the side of his leg and kicking off into the air, rotating slowly as he ascended. Monte-en-l'Air was nowhere to be seen on the street, and Turing put out a query to his closest drones, accessing their footage and cycling through the most recent feeds. The drone that had warned him of Monte-en-l'Air's activity had still been orbiting above them through the fight, and it had caught footage of Monte-en-l'Air running a half-block north before ducking into an alleyway. However, when the drone reached that alley, it was deserted. Turing paused, hovering midway between the ground and the rooftop level of the buildings around him. He could continue to pursue Monte-en-l'Air in the hope that he would lead back to the other escapees, but without a visual on him, there was at least a 75% chance that his search would prove fruitless. And under the circumstances, he was now charged with a far more important mission.

Ten minutes later, Turing stood at the bakery's back door, rapping urgently.

In moments Tom pulled the door open, grunting in exertion. "What's the – oh! Come in!" Looking down at Turing's hand, his jaw dropped. "What happened to you!?"

Turing shook his head. "It is nothing – a run-in with one of the escaped criminals." He slid past Tom into the bakery and started toward the stairs while Tom shut the door and pushed the cabinet back in front of it.

"We've been trying to stay inside as much as we could," Tom observed, moving to follow him. "Do you need a hand with that?"

"I will be fine," Turing assured him. "We will make repairs once I return."

The bakery stairs were now in a state of disarray from constant use; he passed Cosette going in the opposite direction while climbing up to the apartment and nodded in response to her greeting, though without pausing. Behind him, Cosette said something to Tom, and the two of them returned downstairs to the bakery kitchen. Without hesitating, Turing let himself through the door to the upstairs apartment.

"Turing?" Emilie greeted him, jumping in surprise as he burst through the door and shut it behind himself. She and Sabine were standing in the kitchen, cooking something at the stove, though at his entrance Emilie handed the spoon to Sabine and turned to face Turing, all her focus on him. "What's wrong?"

"Whether it is wrong or right depends on perspective," Turing responded, producing the hair tie from his pocket. "I believe this is…"

Emilie gasped, staring at the tie, her eyes widening. "The Bison Miraculous! That is… It's a relief that it is in our hands rather than anyone else," she finally finished.

"It almost was not – one of the escaped criminals had it, but I recovered it from him." Turing nodded. "I calculate that this is the safest place for it – with the last Miraculous Guardian in the city."

Emilie nodded and took the hair tie from him before leading him out of the kitchen, down the hall, and to her bedroom. "That is a good way of putting it," she agreed, pulling out a shoebox from underneath her bed and putting the Bison Miraculous into it. Looking over her shoulder, Turing could see a necklace, bracelet, and breastplate. "Thank you," she told him, closing the box and returning it to its place. "Every one that you find is an enormous help."