The bell above the door rang as two teenagers entered the first floor of a well-known bakery, Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. The sound of rolling wheels accompanied the footsteps as a blue luggage was hauled inside the bakery. The front was empty of its usual attendees, however, the sounds of shuffling from the kitchen above betrayed the opinion of the building being left empty.

"Mom! Dad! I'm home." Marinette called out as she passed by the glass displays showcasing today's freshly baked breads and pastries. Her cousin, however, lagged behind as she surveyed her surroundings and took in the delicious aroma wafting within the bakery. Two seconds and a series of footsteps, two adults in aprons and flour and bearing resemblance to Marinette, emerged down the stairway and greeted the two.

"Welcome home, dear." The older woman kissed her cheek and turned to her daughter's companion with a warm smile and a hug. "Is that you, Margaery? Look at you. You've grown a lot since we last met."

The newly arrived teen obliged to return the hug with the same warmth. "It's been five years, Aunt Sabine, but I am happy to see you and Uncle Tom again."

"Marissa called and said she will not be able to join us." Her Uncle Tom said with a frown as he patted his apron free of some flour. "But I am happy she let you stay. I bet you missed Paris."

"Truly, Uncle." Margaery chuckled. "I can't wait to visit places, both new and old."

Tom smiled and proudly puffed his chest. "Then, say no more. I am sure my daughter, Marinette, will be happy to be your exclusive tour guide here in Paris."

Marinette giggled. "Of course, Papa! That's already a given."

Sabine chuckled. "The tour can wait. But for now," She patted her niece's shoulder. "Why don't you settle down first, Margaery? I'm sure you had a long, tiring trip from Tokyo. Marinette can show you to the guest room while your uncle carries your things upstairs. I will go back to the kitchen and get your favorites. I'm sure you missed your Uncle Tom's special bonbons."

"You read my mind." Margaey dipped in a slight bow. "Merci beaucoup, Aunt Sabine, Uncle Tom."

"It is nothing, honey." Sabine smiled. "Now, shall we?"

Marinette opened the mahogany door of the guest room with a flourish, revealing a simple yet cozy room perfect for her cousin's taste. The room was a splash of blue, green, and pink with hints of white and brown. At the right, a polished, wooden desk stood by the wide windows overlooking the rooftops of Paris. Empty shelves were drilled three good heads above the desk, awaiting to be filled with books. At the left, a twin-sized bed with two pillows and a layer of blanket and a bedside cabinet stood side-by-side. A chaise longue was placed at farthest side of the room and a huge circular rug lay down at the middle of the wooden floor.

A whistle of appreciation escaped the soon-to-be resident. "Wow...Mari, did you do this?"

A light blush colored Marinette's cheeks. "Well, some." She admitted, scratching the back of her neck. "I did the basic, based on what I remembered you like. It's mostly empty, though..."

A tackling hug caught Marinette off-guard. "Are you kidding?" Margaery grinned. "I love it! It's even better than how my room looked like in Tokyo if emptied of stuff."

"I'm glad you liked it, Marge."

"Yup, but I still gotta see your room."

"E-Eh?" Marinette was genuinely surprised. Oh no! She forgot to clean her room. Her collection of Adrien's photos is still in full display! If Marge were to see it...she might not let Marinette live through it.

Margaery seemed to pick up her thoughts and grinned mischievously.

Oh no...

That smile...

Before Marinette could react, her cousin was already out of the door and up to her room where her secrets...her crush on Adrien...were about to be exposed.

True to her expectations, Marge didn't let her go until she milked out all information about Adrien from her. It was quite surprising for Marinette that her cousin would openly - and excitedly - listened about things such as crushes when she would immediately cut anyone off who are talking about anything cheesy, fluffy, or even romantic five years ago. It seemed time made such incredible makeover out of her. Looking at it, a lot about her changed. It wasn't just Marge who has changed. Marinette too, whether people pointed it out or not.

The only thing that is constant is change.

Where change is, balance follows.

Balance...

She didn't realize that she has fallen asleep until morning came.

Marinette was standing on the top of Eiffel Tower. Below her, the buildings spread out into colorful arrays of tiled rooftops that snaked in various patterns. It was daytime. The sun shining brightly overhead just like any ordinary day...but clearly, something is wrong. This day was wrong. It was eerily silent. No sounds of the bustling city that was Paris. Vehicles lay abandoned where they were left; on the roads, in the garages, and some were out of the streets or crashed to another thing. Streetlights were left on to operate for the ghost streets. Stuff, whether personal or not, were dropped anywhere. It was as if the Parisians left in a panicked hurry. There was no sign of life; no humans or animals. Everything was at a standstill.

She stared down at her hands and noticed that they were not bare. The familiar red spandex fabric covered her hands and she realized she was transformed. She was Ladybug. A biting wind blew past and the flapping of wings pulled her out of her stupor. She swiveled around and was met with a figure towering over her. Wings twice the figure's body spread out like an angel of death as it stared at her. She couldn't make out more of the figure; with the sun going against and rendering her blind.

"Change is coming..." The figure spoke, its voice apathetic, unbothered of the dead silence of the place. "It will shake the core of the world and challenge its history. Are your prepared, Wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous?" It asked and gestured to the ghost city. With a beat of its wings, Ladybug was dragged up to the surface of her sleep, away from the dying dream as the voice of the figure slowly faded in questions. "Or will you, too, be a victim? A slave to a new world, just like the rest?"