Presley rolled onto his back. His whole body was sore, and he was completely drained of energy. His transformation was too powerful for him. Each individual mummy that had previously protected him had been able to hold their morphed forms temporarily, a few hours, if needed. Having all four transformations running simultaneously drained him exponentially. The physical pain also remained. The more power he had during the transformation, the more he was drained afterwards.

He was sturdy enough to survive a long fall, but now his entire body was racked with pain.

"Who's there?"

"A friend."

She was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes. If it wasn't for the burn marks across her face, Presley thought she would be pretty, if only in a babyish way. Her head tilted, like a cat's, or...

"Foxy," She said, waving soundlessly. There was definitely something off about her. Something that made the young Arab think of an animal that had been ruthlessly hurt. She slunk from corner to corner in the room. Her eyes darted from object to object; black and red graffitti, large mechanical devices with scorch marks. A single picture of Ladybug sat in the corner, unperturbed by its surroundings.

"What do you want, Foxy?"

She paused. It was like looking at a painting- her movements were so surreal, it was like she wasn't even there.

"Revenge? Hm," She thought about this for a moment, "No... satisfaction. I want satisfaction."

Presley tried to rise, but found his hands and feet bound, "Oh... uh, I'd love to help with that, but I'm a bit-"

"TiEd Up At ThE MoMeNt?!" She mocked. She started trembling with laughter at her own joke, but it looked more like she was trembling in anger.

"Ha ha, yeah..." He said quietly.

"I... I need to know what those clay golems are."

"Shabti," Presley explained, "They're created by sorcery."

This silenced his captor.

"They serve him, you know. Mr. Baracs. He's an ancient mummies who has seized control of Paris. The attack against the mayor, it must have been him."

"No!" Hissed the girl, "It wasn't. Bourgeois had it coming. It was his fault that this city fell into ruin. His fault that Ladybug is gone! Not mine!"

Presley shook his head, "I knew Ladybug, back when she was Egyptian," He ignored the now-familiar feeling of ancient memories coming to the surface, "I don't think the mayor could do anything to dissuade her from helping others."

"Then where is she?"

"...I know where she'll be," Presley felt the flash of past memories coming to the surface. He himself slipping back, back, back through the years. Centuries ago, a young Pharaoh raced across rooftops following a beautiful young girl in a red outfit. Her hair whipped out behind her, a dark, curly tail that would follow his quarry regardless of where she would go.

"Wait! I just wanna talk to you!" Young Presley felt his heart pumping in his veins. Ladybug; a real heroine! She had this incredible power to create substance out of nothing! Besides which, she seemed to distrust Scarab, and that was something that Presley wanted to talk to her about.

Ladybug jumped off the roof, soaring onto the next with superhuman power. Presley couldn't stop himself from following her.

At that moment, the memory ended. Presley knew full well that he could never have caught up with the young girl. Her mistrust of Scarab had been validated when the villainous priest had sucked the life force out of the junior Pharaoh's body.

"She'll fight him. She'll find the Scarab and she'll fight him."

"GOOOOoooOOOD!" Sang the fox, her eyes eerily unfocused, "Night night!" With that, she brought the instrument down on Presley's young head.