To Lyger 0: To be fair, from their perspective they are simply trying to maintain balance in the universe by stopping miraculous users from throwing that balance off.


"There's something that's been bugging me for a while."

"I'm pretty sure a lot of things have been bugging you, Rob! I keep telling you not to roll around on the ground; those bugs will bite you to death!"

"Ha, ha."

John frowned, pushing away his half-eaten lunch. "What's bothering you?" he asked the younger Acolyte, raising an eyebrow in an invitation to continue. He, Jake, and several of the other Acolytes were all seated around a table near the far end of the dining pavilion in the "Villains' Ghetto," as Jake had sarcastically dubbed it. A couple tables away from them sat the Deaconess, along with a trio of Lynchpin-ions; on the opposite side of the pavilion were a small group of people arguing in a language that John didn't understand. Two men sat near the middle of the pavilion, one with a sketchpad in front of him. The other pulled out his wallet and opened it, touching something on the inside. John glanced back at the other Acolytes.

"It's something Carlos mentioned," explained Rob. He frowned, staring down at his plate of rice. "He said that Josh saw Cat Noir using the Dark Sword of the Mundane. Back in Paris, I mean."

Jake scoffed. "Sure. Right. Like that would ever happen. You can't believe every rumor that you hear." He rolled his eyes in amusement. "You don't believe this, do you?"

Alaina shook her head firmly. "No way," she replied. "Josh has always told crazy stories – that's kind of his thing. You wouldn't believe some of the stupid bullshit he's said to try and impress me. It never worked," she added, quirking an eyebrow at Jake. "And anyways, why would the miraculous abusers even want to use a weapon that was created to defeat them?"

Rob nodded hesitantly. "Maybe you're right," he allowed. "But if that's the case, why make up the story?"

John shrugged. "I mean, the Heroes of Paris stole that sword from us," he pointed out. "I suppose they might try to use it. Though I can't imagine why…"

"It's a rumor," Jake insisted.

"But what if it isn't?" He frowned. "Supposedly, when Cat Noir held the Sword, it glowed black!"

"That's insane," Alaina retorted. "There's no way."

"Isn't there?" asked John, raising an eyebrow dubiously. "Look what we were fighting in Paris. We all thought that was insane and impossible, too." He let out a bark of laughter. "Hell, if I hadn't seen it appear with my own eyes, I probably wouldn't have believed me!"

"That's probably what it is," asserted Jake. "It's probably just the fact that we're sitting here in Angola, just outside of an invisible miraculous temple, surrounded by miraculous abusers, after all getting our asses handed to us and forced to run away from Europe with our tails between our legs."

Alaina shivered, looking around uncomfortably. "I don't know what it is, but something about being here, so close to a miraculous temple…" She pursed her lips. "I wish I was back home."

Rob nodded, a troubled look in his eye. "Yeah… I was so excited about my first mission when we left," he admitted. "But now that I'm here…" He snorted humorlessly. "Everything made so much more sense back at the temple."

"Hopefully it will all be over soon," John assured them, though he couldn't bring himself to believe his own words.

"When?" demanded Rob.

"As soon as we get this whole miraculous mess sorted out, rescue our imprisoned brothers and sisters, and do something about that pesky Tarasque," Jake replied, grinning a little too wide. He raised an eyebrow at Alaina. "No big deal there, right?"

She frowned.

John rolled his eyes and stood up from the table, grabbing his tray of half-eaten food as he did so. "Well, on that note, I think I'm going to go for a run," he announced. He gave Jake a pointed look. "You coming?"

Jake waved dismissively. "Yeah, sure, I'll catch up."

John raised an eyebrow. "The sooner we start, the sooner we finish," he told him.

Jake groaned. "Oh, fine." As the two Acolytes dumped their trash in the garbage can near the pavilion entrance, he glared at John halfheartedly. "You could have given me a few minutes with her…"

John smirked. "I suppose that's all it would take, right?" Jake sputtered, and John shook his head in amusement. "Easy there, Romeo," he interrupted. "You weren't getting anywhere anyways; this way you had an exit strategy."

"But I–" Jake folded his arms. "You don't know she wasn't about to crack," he muttered.

"You know we're not supposed to form romantic attachments," John pointed out. "You might not care, but I think she does." He frowned. "If the Prior saw…"

Jake arched an eyebrow. "You honestly think the old man would have any idea what he was seeing, watching a master at work?"

John snorted. Glancing in both directions, the two of them quickly made their way out toward the periphery of the camp, trying to avoid looking at the handful of African miraculous abusers and their Guardian Initiates who were trying not to look like they were prowling around the "Villains' Ghetto." The sun shone down warmly; almost immediately John pushed up the sleeves of his well-worn robe as he prepared for a short run around the perimeter of the camp.

"Wait, we're actually going to run?" demanded Jake.

John shrugged. "Rather not get out of training while we wait for the Prior and the others to figure out a plan," he pointed out.

"Indeed…"

John froze in place on hearing the familiar voice and turned to find the Prior hastening after them from the direction of "Hero Town." He cocked his head in surprise as he and Jake waited for the Prior to catch up. "Yes, sir?"

The Prior put a finger to his lips and shook his head, looking in either direction at the miraculous abusers and Initiates before gesturing for them to follow him. John raised an eyebrow in bafflement at Jake, who shrugged. With a sigh, John turned to follow the Prior, who led them out of the "Villains' Ghetto," through the civilian camp, past groups of heroes and civilians, even past the cluster of pavilions where the Owl had set up his makeshift "school." Finally, with another careful look, the Prior stopped near a pile of refuse on the far edge of the camp and turned to face them. He glanced past them and waited for a long moment before he nodded to himself and folded his arms. "We have a problem," he told them somberly. "The rumors are true. The miraculous abusers have discovered two more miraculous, and unless they are stopped, they will put them into use against the Tarasque."

John's eyes widened. "Seriously? I thought that was just a story! Something people were saying to make themselves feel better! It's true!?"

The Prior nodded, his mouth set in a thin line. "It is. And if we do not stop them, the miraculous abusers will do it."

"Don't they realize that could draw the Tarasque?" demanded Jake, jaw dropped open.

"Evidently they do not." the Prior frowned. "They refuse to listen to my warnings."

John furrowed his brows doubtfully, his mouth twisted around in thought. "I thought that was just a theory. It hasn't drawn the Beast here."

"I mean, not yet…"

"In my mind, the matter is settled," the Prior declared. "The five Beasts converged on Paris. The Tarasque formed in Paris, the central hub of miraculous abuse. All of the Beasts emerged around miraculous abusers or near their temples. That, I think, is proof enough of the connection."

"Makes sense to me." Jake shrugged one shoulder.

"Yes, sir." John let out a breath. "So what are we going to do about this?"

The Prior frowned. "We must inform the Heirodeacon," he told them. "I cannot leave the camp without being searched and followed, and the Sub-Prior has not returned from the Heirodeacon's camp in some time. So I am entrusting this mission to you."

Jake nodded firmly. "You can count on us, sir!"

John hesitated, and the Prior turned his focus on him. John's back stiffened. "Yes, sir."

"See to it," the Prior instructed them, examining them both carefully. "The camp is three kilometers to the east, along the forest path. See to it that you are not followed."

As the Prior walked away, John raised an eyebrow at Jake. "What do we do now?" he asked.

"Well, you wanted a run, right?" replied Jake. He put up his nose, waving his hand in front of his face. "Beats standing in front of this… crap."

Nodding, John started across the camp with Jake by his side. As they walked, John could hear more of the hushed conversations of the refugees. Now that he knew what to listen for, it was unmistakable. Somehow the word had gotten out that the Heroes of Paris had found another miraculous, one that was supposed to defeat the Tarasque. Parisians high-fived and hugged. Miraculous abusers and other heroes grinned, talking about what this could mean. John hadn't seen the people of the camp so… upbeat… since the spectacle of Ladybug and Cat Noir's wedding. Although the Prior had forbade the Dark Acolytes from going near that wedding, John had still observed from a distance. He frowned as they approached the two Guardian Initiates standing at the base of the path leading up out of the bowl in which the refugee camp was set.

"And where do you think you're going?" demanded one of the Initiates, a taller boy with light-brown skin.

"Oh, give them a break," chided his companion, a younger girl. "They can't exactly help where they were raised."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" John demanded, his eyes narrowing.

She shrugged noncommittally. "Only that maybe your view would be different if you'd been trained as a Guardian instead of a Dark Acolyte."

"I suppose I could say the same about you," Jake pointed out acidly, folding his arms.

"I suppose so."

The boy cleared his throat, frowning. "So…"

"Just going for a walk," John explained quickly. "Going to stretch our legs, maybe see about foraging for some herbs to spice up this bland food."

The girl hummed, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Not sure how much you'll find," she warned him, "but I think I saw some arammi growing just inside the tree line a couple weeks ago."

"Thanks for the tip," Jake told her, brushing past her.

"Don't stray too far," the boy called, as John hustled after Jake.

John waved curtly. "We'll be careful."

"Good luck!" shouted the girl.

John and Jake climbed up the path as quickly as they could without looking like they were running. John's heart pounded in his throat. They had talked their way past the Initiates, but how long would that last? The whole trek he could feel the Initiates' eyes on the back of his head. Would they follow them to the camp? Would they be leading the miraculous abusers and their Guardians straight to the other Dark Acolytes? It had been bad enough when the miraculous abusers and other heroes fought a few weeks ago – many of the Dark Acolytes in the Heirodeacon's group had been captured and were even now imprisoned within the refugee camp. But if they were to imprison all the Dark Acolytes still free outside of the camp, who would be left to oppose the miraculous abusers in this overreach?

John couldn't 100% buy into the theory that the Tarasque was strengthened by the miraculous abusers… but he couldn't 100% reject it, either.

Beside him, Jake was unusually quiet as they crossed the road and slipped under the sparse cover of the trees. Even though he couldn't hear anyone following them, that didn't mean that they were alone. Carefully he scanned the ground at their feet, alert to sounds of movement from behind them. But the forest was quiet. It took them almost thirty minutes of doubling back and avoiding traps to get there, but finally John hopped over a thin tripwire and sidestepped around a pressure trap, just before they rounded a bend to find themselves in the Dark Acolyte camp.

They had hardly made it a dozen steps into the camp before two men appeared out of the closest tent and accosted them. "What are you doing here?" demanded the Sub-Prior, folding his arms.

"The Prior sent us," John told him. "We have news for the Heirodeacon."

"It will have to wait," the Sub-Prior answered dismissively. "Prodigy discovered another miraculous abuser loose in Luanda, and someone still hasn't made up his mind what to do about this opportunity…"

The Heirodeacon, a heavyset balding man who stood two heads taller than John, folded his arms and glared at the Sub-Prior. "Your 'suggestion,' as you call it, is entirely unacceptable," he retorted. "We have captured a miraculous, and the miraculous abusers know nothing of it. This is not the time to give up that edge!"

The Sub-Prior scoffed. "We would not be 'giving up an edge' if we used it to infiltrate the miraculous abusers with one of our own!"

John started, staring at the Sub-Prior in shock. "As in… use a miraculous?"

"But–but that goes against everything we teach!" yelped Jake. "'All miraculous use is abuse'!"

"We would only use it as a 'Trojan horse,'" the Sub-Prior explained irritably. "Whomever we give the miraculous to would not have to use it for long. It would only be an excuse for the miraculous abusers to welcome him or her into their counsel. Then we can take them down from within."

The Heirodeacon let out a derisive snort. "I do not believe such theatrics to be necessary any longer," he pointed out. "After all, these two were able to leave the miraculous abusers' camp. If they can get out, then perhaps they can find a way to let the rest of us in."

"What do you want us to do?" asked Jake, his eyes widening in surprise.

The Sub-Prior rolled his eyes. "He thinks the way to defeat the miraculous abusers is by attacking them within their camp."

"Why shouldn't we?"

John cleared his throat. "The miraculous abusers are likely to be on their guard," he warned. "Our message from the Prior is that they have recovered two new miraculous which they intend to use against the Tarasque. He is being watched too closely to act on this information; he leaves it to you," he told the Heirodeacon.

"They would throw the world even further out of balance!" The Sub-Prior's breath hitched and his eyebrows shot up. "We don't have time to wait around and argue."

"I agree," replied the Heirodeacon, folding his arms, his brows knit pensively. After a moment, he turned to Jake and John. "You two must find a way to sneak some of my people into the camp. We must begin culling the miraculous abusers at once."