To Lyger 0: Well, it's definitely repaired worse…


The Lancer held onto her lance in a death grip, propping herself upright with the end of the handle planted firmly on the pavement, panting heavily as the sweat dripped down her spine under the heavy armor of her suit. Looking up and down the street, her eyes widened in shock, taking in the devastation that the fight had caused. At least a dozen cars had been damaged along the sides of the road, two of them with battleaxe holes in the sides. Broken glass covered the sidewalk for an entire block and more; not a single unbroken window could be seen on any of the buildings nearby. The crowd of civilians had begun to grow, becoming bolder now that the fighting was over. The Lancer frowned in frustration, scanning the curb closest to where they had fought. Cerna was nowhere to be seen. Nor, as she looked over at the building where she had last seen him, was M. Loubet. His other bodyguard had vanished into the wall, taking Loubet with him. Only the woman that Cerna had called "Screamer" remained, sitting sullenly on the curb and rubbing her bruised neck while Bengalia knelt in front of her, eyeing her warily with her claws extended. A couple meters away from Screamer and Bengalia, Miss Pinky had propped up her rake against a tree and clung to it, wiping her brow with the back of one hand, studying the Lancer with a pensive expression. The Lancer gulped.

It was over. The Heroes of Paris had caught up with her.

"I suppose that could have gone better," Miss Pinky murmured to herself, letting out a groan as she twisted her back and shoulders. Reaching up, she tapped one of her ears, wiping away a thin trickle of blood. "It's too bad we couldn't actually catch Cerna. Still, at least this one is off the street now…" she added, glancing down at Screamer as she said it.

Screamer pursed her lips and glared up at Miss Pinky. "You attacked me!" she shot back at Miss Pinky hoarsely, her voice coming out barely above a whisper. She coughed wetly, wincing.

Growling, Bengalia deployed her claws and held them in front of Screamer's face. "Don't even think about trying anything else," she snarled, her eyes flashing. Screamer's eyes narrowed, staring up at Bengalia as a police car drove through the crowd to stop in front of them.

The two officers hauled Screamer to her feet, one of them placing a ring around Screamer's throat as they did so, and prodded her toward their car.

"You're making a mistake!" Screamer protested, her voice scratchy and weak. "I was just doing my job when that one attacked us!" She gestured toward the Lancer, glaring at her angrily. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

One of the officers barked out a laugh, carefully maneuvering Screamer into the back of the car. "We'll see about that."

Once the police had left and the crowd had begun to disperse, the Lancer clenched her jaw, and she looked away from Miss Pinky. Her shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry."

Miss Pinky cocked her head, shaking her head in confusion. "What?" she shouted, rubbing her ear with one finger.

"I'm sorry!" The Lancer leaned in closer and half-shouted into Miss Pinky's ear.

Miss Pinky winced, jumping back away from the Lancer. "Ouch!" she hissed. "I think my hearing is coming back – at least on one side…" She furrowed her brows, blinking at the Lancer. "Why are you sorry? Because we couldn't capture Cerna and get the miraculous away from her? That's not on you; Bengalia and I were here, too. So all three of us really let her get away."

"Not that." The Lancer shook her head and waved her hand vaguely. "I mean… I'm sorry for all the other stuff." She sighed heavily, looking down at the ground. "I was so sick of feeling used last winter that I was ready to jump at any opportunity, to do anything just to feel powerful and in control again… but it didn't matter. I was being used all along." Suddenly feeling drained, she dropped down to sit on the curb, resting her forehead against her lance. Sniffling softly, tears began to flow down her cheeks.

Quietly, Miss Pinky sat down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I've never been used in that way," she began softly. "But I do remember when those texts were going out last fall, how terrified I felt when he texted me." The Lancer turned to look at Miss Pinky in surprise. Miss Pinky swallowed, sniffling. "He threatened to tell Jules that I was cheating on her. Then he said he would tell my parents about me and Jules. I was so scared and confused. I knew that Jules and Anarka and the rest would love me no matter what, but I didn't know how my parents would react. I didn't want to do something that would hurt me – or especially that would hurt Juleka. In the end, I didn't send him anything… but I thought about it a lot longer than I care to admit. So I can understand why you would do something like that back then. I never have judged you for it. And I never would. In the end, that doesn't matter to me: you're my friend, and nothing is going to change that."

The Lancer scoffed. "Not even the fact that I was helping the bad guys?" she asked wryly.

Miss Pinky arched an eyebrow at her, turning to one side and leaning in a little closer. "Are you saying that's what you were trying to do?"

"Hell no! But does that matter?" The Lancer groaned, leaning back and closing her eyes. "I was giving someone information, and that information got back to the wrong people. People could have gotten hurt." She fell silent. "The Heroes of Paris should hate me for that… and I wouldn't blame them in the least."

Miss Pinky gave her a sympathetic smile. "I don't hate you. Neither does Ladybug – or anyone else for that matter. You didn't want any of this to happen; why would we blame you for it when your intentions were good?"

"What about the result?"

Miss Pinky looked down at the ground. "Let me tell you a story," she whispered, swallowing anxiously. "Last year, Chloe was captured by the Lynchpin." The Lancer gasped, her eyes widening under her helmet. Miss Pinky stared at her hands, opening and closing them over and over. "Rena Rouge asked for my help to help her try and get some information to find her. She was going to plant some cameras to watch a warehouse, so she needed me to create a distraction to keep the bad guys off her back. I created a massive hedge maze in front of one of the Lynchpin's warehouses, and his people burned it all to the ground." She sighed heavily. "The distraction worked. But I didn't realize until a month later that a woman had been caught in the middle of the maze and trapped." The Lancer's breathing hitched. "She died in the fire, thinking until the end that Ladybug and Cat Noir were going to save her. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the Lynchpin recruited her husband so he could get revenge – against me. That was Tyran-X. My intentions that day were good… but a woman still died. And then four months ago her husband died, too. My actions ultimately led to the death of an otherwise innocent couple." She looked up at the Lancer. "I have regretted what happened ever since, but there's nothing I can do to change what happened, no matter how much I wanted to undo it. Ladybug and the others forgave me – in the end, even Tyran-X recognized the truth and forgave me. But after it had happened, all I could do was try to make it right."

The Lancer frowned, looking up at Miss Pinky. "Do you really think I can make it right?" Her shoulders slumped. "I–I tried to. I tried to get the man who gave me the lance. But I failed. He's still out there. And now he knows I'm after him."

Miss Pinky shrugged. "I know. I can tell that you want to make it right. I'm sorry you thought you had to do this on your own, instead of letting the rest of us help you."

"This was my mistake," she replied, without any force behind her words. "My mistake, and my responsibility to fix it."

"But not to do it alone." Miss Pinky raised an eyebrow. "If you want to fix this, I think staying with the Heroes of Paris will be the best way to do it."

"But my identity is blown now," the Lancer pointed out. "Killer Bee knows who I am; all the Lynchpin-ions know who I am. That means my family is in danger. Mireille could be in danger, too. I can't put everyone else in danger."

Miss Pinky nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I don't have a good answer for you. But I do know that you can keep them safer with the Heroes of Paris' help than without us." She chuckled humorlessly. "But you probably do need to tell Mireille about this. At least after this past week."

The Lancer's eyes widened in horror and she started. "Mireille – she doesn't know where I am!"

"She was really worried about you," Miss Pinky informed her.

Suddenly Ladybug landed in the street right in front of them. "You're safe!" she half-shouted, hauling the Lancer to her feet and studying her helmet so intently the Lancer almost thought she could see through it. Ladybug pulled her into a quick hug before holding her out at arm's length once more. "You have no idea how worried we've been!" Her eyes widened in shock, turning to take in the destruction and chaos surrounding them. "What the hell happened here?"

Miss Pinky cocked her head, turning the other way to place her good ear toward Ladybug. "Cerna and someone called Screamer," she explained quickly. "We fought them, but Cerna got away. We captured Screamer at least."

"That's not too bad," Ladybug mused softly.

"What?" Miss Pinky furrowed her brows.

Ladybug sighed. "Miraculous Ladybug!" A wave of red magic swirled out from her, repairing the buildings and vehicles around them and wrapping around Miss Pinky. The Lancer yawned, stretching her arms and legs as the energy rejuvenated her. "I take it you were successful with my message?" Ladybug glanced over at Miss Pinky.

Miss Pinky grimaced. "Not exactly. I wish we'd actually spotted Cerna sooner; she had already transformed and attacked by the time Bengalia and I figured out where she was."

"Ladybug, I–" the Lancer began, coughing and looking away. "I'm so sorry for all of this. Here." She held out her lance. "I'm not worthy."

Ladybug took the Lancer's hand and closed it around the lance. "It's not my place to take it away from you," she told her. "I think it should still be yours." She furrowed her brows in concentration. "Do you know anything about Killer Bee – who she is or where she lives… anything that can help us?"

The Lancer shook her head. "I'm sorry – I–I have no idea. The only one I ever got to meet was M. Loubet."

"'Loubet'," Ladybug repeated slowly, confused. "Wait…"

The Lancer nodded. "He's the one who gave me the lance in the first place. I thought he was just a businessman who wanted to help the city… but he must've told Killer Bee who I am. That's the only way she could have known."

Miss Pinky cocked her head to one side, looking back and forth between the Lancer and Ladybug. "Who is he? Ladybug, you look like you recognize that name."

The Lancer shrugged. "Could he be working for the Lynchpin?"

Ladybug blinked, her eyes widening in shock. "Son of a bitch!"