AN: Today's "Sabrina the Teenage Therapist" chapter is around the same time as this.

Thierry leaned back on his hands, the sun warm on his face. In the month-plus since school had been out, since he had taken on the mantle of the Owl, he had spent almost all of his time training: training with King Monkey, training with M. Damocles, even a couple of times working with Sent-Bee and Carapace. Were it not for Olivet's ability to heal, he would almost certainly be covered with bruises from top to bottom. As it was, he had passed out in bed the moment his head hit the pillow more times than he could count. But for all the effort that he had put into his training, he couldn't exactly complain about the results.

Later today, he would be going over to M. Damocles' apartment for his next round of training – this time learning to use some new tech Pegasus had designed for him. But this morning, Laurent had called to invite him to hang out at the Champ de Mars with the rest of their friends. At first he had been torn… but not for long. He hadn't exactly been expecting to see everyone here, but he couldn't complain.

"–There's no way Saint-Germain is better," Adil insisted. "Lille is where it's at."

Although Thierry wouldn't have been disappointed if at least a couple of them had been otherwise occupied.

"Lille? Seriously?" Laurent scoffed, arching an eyebrow. "Please, they have two players – maybe three. Sure, they're good right now, but give it a year or two and they'll all be retiring, and then what will Lille have? Whereas Saint-Germain will be top three in the league for the next decade."

Adil rolled his eyes. "Not a chance of that."

"Yeah? And why's that?"

"One word: salary." Adil gave him a look. "Within four years, I'm bet half of Saint-Germain's younger players will get better offers to play somewhere else."

"Maybe one or two will leave," Thierry conceded. "But that's it. Delie is a local – grew up in Paris. I don't see him leaving when he can play for the hometown team."

"That's just one," Adil argued. "You can't make a team with just one player."

"You can if that one play can convince a bunch of the others to stick around to chase trophies together," Laurent told him.

"Maybe he can; maybe he can't," replied Adil. "But even if he can, I still wouldn't put them top three – even this coming season."

Laurent scoffed. "Yeah? Name three teams better than them."

"Lille," Adil counted on his fingers. "Lyon. Marseille."

Thierry arched an eyebrow incredulously. "Really? You'd take Marseille over Saint-Germain?"

"For next year," Adil told him. "Their keeper isn't going to let in anything. After Munyuto retires, they'll drop a few places." He glanced to the side. "You agree with me, right?" he asked Leïla.

Leïla looked down at the spread of pastries she had brought and shrugged. "I don't know," she began. "I haven't exactly been following the Ligue…"

"Finally," Marie interjected, leaning away from Laurent and giving Leïla a relieved smile. "Someone else who doesn't care for football!"

"It's not that I don't like it," Leïla answered quickly, her eyes widening. "I just – I always go with father, but first we didn't have the money for it, then now we don't have the time for it…"

"So maybe in the autumn we should all go to a game together!" Laurent suggested, grinning. Marie made a face, and he raised an eyebrow at her. "It'll be fun!"

"Maybe…"

"As long as lycée doesn't keep us too busy," Adil pointed out, frowning.

"I'm sure we can find one weekend free," Laurent insisted. "What do you say, Thierry?"

Thierry hummed. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Adil's brows furrowing as he examined him carefully. Thierry swallowed and let out a breath. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "I might be busy – it depends on the weekend." Laurent frowned and opened his mouth, but Thierry quickly cut him off. "We shouldn't make plans without knowing how school will go anyways, right?"

"I suppose you're right…"

"Pity we can't go over the summer," Adil mused. "At least now we know we have time."

"I don't know. I wouldn't want to go somewhere outside the city," Laurent interjected. "Not right now anyways. Did you see the traffic heading north?"

"There have been a lot of police cars around," Marie mused, pursing her lips and glancing toward the river, past the Tower. A boat with a police light on top motored slowly past, moving downriver. "I wonder what it's all about."

"Whatever it is, it's a good thing we didn't decide to try going to the beach now!" Thierry told her, raising an eyebrow. Trying to keep the same relaxed posture, he glanced surreptitiously up at the rooftops lining the park. He hid a gulp. What would he do if he spotted Killer Bee? What could he do but call it in?

"True…" Marie sat up, eyes wide, and leaned forward to look at something over Thierry's shoulder. "Hey, do you recognize those two girls?" she asked, pointing toward the Eiffel Tower.

Thierry turned in the direction she pointed and saw two girls, a few years older than them, one brunette and the other blonde, walking across the park.

"What about them?" asked Laurent, shrugging.

"Hang on, they've been on the news a few times, haven't they?" asked Leïla, cocking her head to one side.

Marie nodded. "They were doing the weather for the news channel," she confirmed. "Or one of them was."

Thierry hummed, examining them more closely. "They went to Collège François Dupont, didn't they?"

Laurent nodded in realization. "Right… They were in their final year when we started, weren't they? I think I remember seeing the brunette once or twice."

Marie giggled. "Funny how close we were to fame back then!"

"Didn't Adrien Agreste go to François Dupont also?" Leïla pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"Ohhh, right." Marie hummed. "The model. And Hawk Moth's son," she added as an afterthought. She shook her head ruefully. "I still don't understand that one: he was always so nice and polite whenever I'd see him in the halls or at lunch. How could his dad be so terrible?"

Leïla shrugged. "I don't know," she answered. "But his mother is super-nice, too."

Marie's eyes widened. "You've actually met Emilie Agreste? I've only seen a couple of pictures since she returned."

Leïla's shoulders tensed but she nodded. "My–" she coughed "–my father has treated her a couple of times. Remember, the Agrestes actually helped him start his practice!"

Adil started. "That was really nice of them."

Leïla shrugged. "Every so often he's gotten calls to go to their rehab centers or even to their mansion when they needed medical help, so…"

Thierry shook his head, stretching his neck to either side and glancing around the park as the others talked. Even though he'd been at collège with Adrien Agreste for a year, he'd never actually met him; Leïla, of course, had actually met them. Why did Leïla get to say that? Her relationship with her father, she always sounded so proud and happy talking about him. Thierry, on the other hand, sometimes wished that his father had stayed missing. He sighed, watching as a group of boys a couple years younger than them played football on one side of the park. A couple sat in the shade not too far from them, eating a picnic lunch and glancing around the park. The blonde and brunette were about halfway across the park, moving roughly in the direction of Thierry and his friends. Thierry was about to turn back toward the others when the two picnickers stood up. The man let out a low growl before doubling over onto his hands and knees, his arms and shoulders roiling and rippling as they extended, shredding his shorts and shirt. A pair of long, curved horns emerged from his head, and he stamped his hands on the ground before charging toward the two girls, two rows of jagged teeth visible in his open mouth. The blonde's eyes widened in shock, and she pushed her friend in one direction before diving the opposite way, moments before the creature charged between them through the spot where they had been standing.

Thierry's breathing hitched as, behind him, Marie gasped. A panicked cry sounded from somewhere nearby. Feet pounded. Suddenly, people around them started running in all directions away from the brewing fight. Thierry's jaw clenched, and he found his bag with one hand. "Go! Get to cover!" he shouted to the others, not taking his eyes off of the fight.

At the same time, Leïla jumped to her feet, stumbling and nearly losing her hijab as she did so. "I – um – I have to go!" With a last glance behind her, she raced in the direction of the public restrooms.

Thierry came up into a crouch as Adil, Laurent, and Marie stood up and started running toward the park exit. Carefully, Thierry scanned the area for any cover, and his eyes settled on a couple of bushes along one side of the park. He started in that direction, but paused when Laurent shouted.

"Where are you going!?" Laurent demanded, half-dragging Marie away from the park. Adil was already halfway to the exit.

Thierry grimaced. "I'll – I'll try to draw it away!" he called, sprinting toward the bushes. The horned figure wheeled around and charged toward the blonde, bringing his horns down. Again, the blonde dove out of the way, rising into a low crouch and watching him with a calculating look in her eyes. Finally, ignoring Laurent's last shout, Thierry dove into the bushes, pulling his bag open as he did so. Quickly he found the collapsible cowl and jammed it onto his forehead before activating it. The face shield slid down to cover his face, activating his communicator and voice synthesizer as it did so. His backup cape fastened onto clasps on the back of the cowl. A pair of bracers snapped onto his wrists, complete with sleeves to cover his arms, and finally he snapped his belt on. He pushed the bag deeper into the bushes, trying to calm his racing heart. Less than thirty seconds after entering the bushes, the Owl cautiously poked his head over the branches, carefully scanning for the source of the disturbance. The horned figure had cornered the blonde on the ground, holding her by one wrist. The girl punched him in the face with her free hand, and he drove his horns into her shoulder, only missing her by centimeters. Her hand plunged into her purse.

"Aurore!" shouted her friend in a panic.

Gritting his teeth, the Owl drew one of the folding Owlets from his belt, took aim, and hurled it at the horned man. The Owlet whistled through the air before curving slightly and flying harmlessly past him to strike the ground a few meters away. However, the man cocked his head, looking around him in surprise as it passed, before finally locking eyes with the Owl. "Oh, damn!" Quickly, the Owl pulled another Owlet.

"What is happening?" a familiar voice asked over his communicator. The Owl started, nearly dropping his Owlet in surprise. His eyes flashing with rage, the man turned his attention back to Aurore, stilly lying on the ground beneath him.

The Owl growled in frustration and sprinted out of his cover, straight toward the horned man. "I was at the Champ de Mars with friends," he told M. Damocles urgently. "This guy just randomly grew horns and attacked a couple of girls." Winding up and throwing mid-sprint, he was rewarded by a smack as the Owlet struck one of the man's horns, bumping his head to one side just as he went to headbutt Aurore. The man turned his head at the last minute, just as the Owl reached him.

"Are you there by yourself?" demanded M. Damocles.

"So far." The Owl ducked a wild swing from the horned man as he rose to his feet, and he came back up to smack him in the face. Dodging to the left, the Owl drove his elbow into the man's side, just below the ribs. Horns snarled, dropping his head and swinging it through the Owl, catching him in the arm and knocking him to one side. The Owl hit the ground with a grunt, rolling to the side just before Horns stomped where he had been moments earlier. The Owl rolled over another couple times, putting a little more distance between them.

"And your friends?"

The Owl frowned beneath his cowl. "Laurent and the others ran out of the park – they're safe," he began, kipping to his feet the way King Monkey had shown him, his cape billowing out of the way behind him. He dove to one side to avoid a charge and shot a grappling hook out of one bracer at Horns' back, catching him by one leg. "Leïla ran toward the bathrooms… Not sure about Adil." Horns continued running, and the Owl yelped, hitting the ground and rolling onto his back as Horns dragged him through the grass. The cape tugged against the back of his head, and he hit a button on his bracer, sending an electrical pulse down the wire and into Horns' leg. Horns let out a howl and wheeled about to charge him.

"Not so fast!" A burnt-orange harpoon swung out at Horns, striking him in the chest and knocking him backward as Nabatala appeared between Horns and the Owl, the end of her hijab whipping behind her in the wind. Horns landed hard on his back, left behind an indentation in the dirt, and tumbled backward onto his feet. Nabatala turned slightly and held a hand out to the Owl, still watching Horns out of the corner of her eye. Without hesitating, the Owl grabbed her hand and let her haul him back to his feet. "You okay, Owl?" she asked urgently, looking him down. Her eyebrows furrowed. "That's not your normal suit…"

He shook his head. "I'm fine. Though I wasn't exactly expecting this today…"

"Glad I'm not facing this thing solo…" she muttered, letting out a breath.

The Owl started to nod but gasped, throwing himself at Nabatala. She fell to the ground with a gasp of shock as he landed on top of her, moments before Horns barreled straight through the space where they had been standing. The Owl sighed heavily, and Nabatala froze, staring up at him in shock. Flushing beneath his cowl, the Owl stammered out, "S–sorry," before scrambling off of her, just in time to watch Horns wheel around and race back at them, his horns lowered.

In a whirl of motion, Nabatala sprang to her feet, pushed the Owl to one side, twirled her harpoon, and slid in the opposite direction. "Horn-Fade!" she cried, jabbing her harpoon into Horns' hip as he raced past. Horns stumbled and paused, cocking his head to one side, looking around in confusion.

Quickly, the Owl sprang to his feet. "What did you do?" he demanded, bracing himself and drawing another Owlet to prepare for the next charge.

"He won't be able to find us," she explained, not taking her eyes off of him. "His senses won't work anymore – not for five minutes, at least."

The Owl let out a breath, rolling his shoulders. "Good thinking."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Any idea why he was going after–"

Behind them came another loud, bellowing screech. The Owl spun around in shock as the woman who had been with Horns rose up from the ground, her arms elongating and growing feathers while her nose extended into a sharp beak. She shrieked, throwing herself into the air and diving at Aurore. Nabatala gasped, bracing herself to sprint in that direction.

"Merde." Aurore groaned, reaching into her purse and pulling out something. "Atavis et Armis!" she screamed, dropping to one knee as the pen in her hand extended and brilliant white light engulfed her. Even before the transformation was complete, she spun her lance around and braced the butt end on the ground, angling it slightly. The woman slammed into the lance, which pierced her through the shoulder, and the Lancer tossed her to one side into the grass, planting an armored boot on her chest.

The Owl turned to Nabatala, mouth hanging open under his cowl. "Wait… did you know the weathergirl was the Lancer?"

AN: Strap in…