CHAPTER DISCLAIMER: A flashback from #2 The Visitor.
NOTES: Originally, I was going to write this entire story in perfect chronological order, with showing childhood for Rachel-as-Chloé, but I'm still trying to figure out how to do that. I'm hoping that we'll see more details in upcoming seasons of Miraculous about certain characters like Adrien and Chloé in their earlier years, as well as other details about their respective families. There must be, especially where Emilie Agreste is concerned. But rest assured, there will soon be more details about Chloé's childhood here, especially after she got her "Rachel memories" back.
This is where I revisit the 2-part "Origins" episode, which was the Season 1 finale but the first events to happen chronologically, with Ladybug and Cat Noir first appearing. I'm revisiting scenes where things are different because of that; whatever scenes I don't touch upon, assume that things remain virtually unchanged from the actual series, like when Master Fu tests both Marinette and Adrien with his "struggling old man" act.
VERY IMPORTANT NOTICE! I've been getting people asking me about where to find the original Animorphs books to read them; well, it might please you to know that Ms. Applegate herself in the past has low-key approved of finding them online and downloading them for free if you couldn't find them in print or afford them. So, I'd be happy to send them to anybody who wants them; just please let me know! For that matter, here's the recommended reading order (it's the original publication order)...
#1 through #7, Megamorphs 1: The Andalite's Gift, #8 through #13, The Andalite Chronicles, #14 through #18, Megamorphs 2: In the Time of the Dinosaurs, #19, The Hork-Bajir Chronicles, #20 through #29, Megamorph's 3: Elfangor's Secret, #30 through #34, Visser, #35 through #40, Megamorphs 4: Back to Before, #41 through #47, The Ellimist Chronicles, and #48 through #54.
Chapter 5: Stoneheart, Part 1
She hadn't planned on waking up so early, but now that she was awake, she saw no point in trying to fall asleep again.
Rachel just lay there for a few more minutes, trying to relax. Her sleep had been blissfully boring, and having no dreams at all was better than having bad dreams.
Finally, she decided that enough was enough, and she hauled herself out of bed to get ready for the day.
Hopping out of bed, she strode over to the windows and threw the curtains aside. It couldn't have been more than an hour after sunrise, and the dawn's light gave the beautiful city of Paris a strangely beautiful glow.
She never got tired of this magnificent view. And no matter what time of day it was, it never failed to amaze her.
Feeling her stomach rumble, Rachel went straight for the room's telephone and called down to the kitchen.
Normally, she ate right as it helped her keep in shape, but she figured that she might as well treat herself to something nice this morning.
"Good morning, Miss Chloé!" the voice on the other end answered. "You're up early."
"Yeah, that I am. Please send breakfast up to my room. Stuffed French toast with whipped cream and warm maple syrup, and a couple of fresh oranges. Oh, and a big cup of coffee."
"Right away, Miss!"
"Thank you!"
It had taken some getting used to, but Rachel was able to become accustomed again to the lifestyle of a rich girl, the life which she'd always known as Chloé. She had also managed to (mostly) overcome her feelings of guilt, that feeling of being undeserving of everything she had in this life because of what she did in her previous life, and even allowed herself to enjoy the perks.
Case in point, the sinfully delicious meal now on its way up to her room for breakfast, complete with the daily dose for her coffee addiction.
She leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to relax…
The knock at the door jolted her out of her thoughts, and she was grateful for the distraction.
"Miss Chloé?" her butler's voice called. "Your breakfast is here."
"Be right there, Jean," she called out, making sure that everything was in order before walking over to the door.
Sure enough, there was Jean, and once the door was open wide enough, he rolled in her breakfast.
"Good morning, Chloé," he announced, "breakfast is served."
"Thanks, Jean, and good morning to you too," she said, approaching him and giving him a small hug.
He returned the gesture, and then he withdrew and pulled something out of his jacket pocket. "I also have this for you."
She accepted it from him, and saw her name Chloé written on the front in her father's handwriting. It even bore a wax seal with the imprint of the coat of arms of Paris. She opened it and saw a cheerful little note, which read: Have a great first day at school, Princess! Love, Your Father
She smiled. "Thanks, Jean."
She already knew she wouldn't have been able to see her father this morning, because he had his morning full of back-to-back meetings and she didn't want to be late on the first day of school, but they both agreed to catch up over dinner later that evening.
"Quite a breakfast you've ordered for yourself," Jean commented.
"Eh," Rachel shrugged, "I wanted to treat myself to something nice. You know, one last meal before the execution."
"But it's only the first day of school," Jean stated, raising an eyebrow.
Rachel giggled in spite of herself. "Exactly."
Jean allowed himself to smile. "Very clever, Chloé," he commented. "Well, if there's nothing else, I'll let you be."
"Thanks, Jean. Just in case I don't see you again this morning, have a great day."
He nodded and departed from her room.
Once she was done with breakfast, she moved to get dressed. She had already showered and groomed the night before, and she already had her selection of clothes for the first day of school picked out. It was something nice and stylish, but not so obnoxiously expensive that it practically screamed, "Look at me, look at me, I'm the richest kid in the room!"
Within a few minutes, Rachel was dressed and ready to go.
She took a moment to gaze out the window, marveling at the view of Paris. As the old saying went: "Location, location, location" — and there were many worse places she could have ended up. She supposed it was almost fitting that she, a fashionista and shopping addict, should be reborn in what was arguably the fashion capital of the world. Even in her previous life, she'd never been to France before.
(…Well, unless anyone were to count that one time the Animorphs had had to chase the disgraced Visser Four through time and space, after he'd discovered the long-hidden Time Matrix and tried to use it to meddle with human history. The very first stop had been France in 1415, near the Battle of Agincourt, and they'd almost been captured and burned alive as witches and monsters. But Rachel didn't count that, as it wasn't present-day France; it was a mere technicality, as far as she was concerned.)
Indeed, Rachel was incredibly lucky to be reborn in modern Paris as a financially secure young woman. She was grateful to whatever made it this way, assuming that all this wasn't some kind of elaborate prank.
Noticing the time, she got her things together and made her way out the door.
It was just another day in the life of Chloé Bourgeois.
From her room down to the lobby, some of the hotel staff looked up and cheerfully greeted her as they passed. They wished her good morning and good luck at school, and she in turn wished them good morning too as well as a good day.
As Rachel waited in the lobby for a moment, her attention was drawn towards a commotion at the front desk.
A young woman, no, a teenage girl roughly the same age as herself was shouting something angrily in another language at the man behind the front desk, angrily stomping her foot as she laid into the front desk clerk. Rachel couldn't recognize it — it sounded like something Slavic, maybe it was Russian or Polish? — but then a man who had to be that girl's father tried to reassure her, and she quickly calmed down.
For a split second, the other girl made eye contact with her, and then something passed between the two of them.
It was like looking into a distorted mirror. While Rachel (as Chloé) had ocean blue eyes and blonde hair like light gold, this other girl had pale blue eyes like chips of ice and blonde hair so bright it was closer to platinum than gold. Not only that, but this other girl had been rather liberal with make-up like eye shadow and lip gloss and blush.
"And what do you want?" the other girl said rudely, in a heavy Eastern European accent.
"Nothing," Rachel said in a placating way. "Is everything alright?"
But the other girl just shook her head dismissively, as if she was dealing with a mere simpleton. And then, acting as if Rachel wasn't even there, she began barking orders at those near her in her native tongue (That's gotta be Russian, Rachel thought to herself).
Rachel bristled just a little. This other girl was clearly a spoiled rich brat. Rachel herself knew the type, and not just because she used to be one for a while in this life. Even if she was thankfully set straight early on, thanks to some very patient adults in her life, she still had much exposure to those in inner circles, ranging from other heirs of massive fortunes to the rich guests whom the Bourgeois hotel attracted.
For the most part, Rachel had developed a thick skin as "Chloé Bourgeois," thick enough to rival the pachyderm skin of her old elephant morph. But every so often one or two of these other spoiled brats just really managed to get under her skin…
Finally, the other girl seemingly got what she wanted, and she marched with her head held high over to the elevators, with the bellhops carrying several large pieces of luggage and her presumed father looking rather embarrassed.
It reminded her too much of when she, as Chloé, was a spoiled brat, and her father would do just about anything to placate her.
Deciding not to let it bother her, Rachel pushed it out of her mind and went outside to meet up with her driver.
Rachel met her driver at the fancy four-door sedan which she'd picked for her ride to school. The limousine would have been overkill.
Rachel had considered stopping by Marinette's home first, but it was so early that it just didn't seem right. Besides, knowing Marinette, she was probably still sleeping…
Marinette Dupain-Cheng woke up to the sound of her mother calling up the stairs to her.
"Marinette, get up, or else you'll be late!"
It wasn't easy, but Marinette managed to drag herself out of bed and make her way downstairs for breakfast. Alright, so maybe it had taken her longer than she'd thought to finish that little project of hers…
"Coming, Mom!"
Still in her sleepwear, Marinette trudged down the stairs to the breakfast table, willing herself to wake up along the way.
"Good morning, dear."
"Good morning, Mom."
"Are you looking forward to the first day of school, dear?" her mother asked her.
"I will be once I completely wake up," Marinette mumbled, trying to coordinate so that her natural clumsiness wouldn't make a mess of her own breakfast.
"So," Sabine continued, more to make conversation, "do you think you'll be in the same class as Chloé this year? That would make it four years in a row."
Marinette laughed. "Wouldn't you believe it, Mom, but we were just discussing this last night, me and her," she chuckled as she reached for her breakfast cereal. "Chloé insists that she had nothing to do with it, and she says that if she truly wanted to use her powers for evil, then she could do a lot worse than get both of us in the same class every year."
Sabine chuckled. "True."
As the laughter subsided, Marinette looked thoughtful. "Sometimes it seems like she really is my good luck charm," she mused aloud.
Sabine smiled. "Perhaps… and while I don't deny that Chloé has had such a positive effect on you, I also believe we create our own luck."
Marinette smiled back at her mother.
The rest of the hour passed in a blur as her father presented her with a box of macarons to share with the class, after he'd praised her for her spiffy new design for their business.
Soon enough, Marinette was dressed and ready to go to school. It was just a brief walk from her home to Collège Françoise Dupont, not even five minutes of travel time by foot. It was supposed to be uneventful.
…Well, aside from seeing that old man nearly get hit by a car while he was trying to cross the street. It was a good thing she'd managed to save his life, even at the cost of half the macarons in the box. But other than that, it was uneventful, really.
Rachel had been the first one there. It was surprisingly early; she saw few other faculty members and no other students.
She even got to her homeroom before the teacher did. With nothing else to do, she just paced around the front of the room, between the teacher's desk up front and the steps leading upwards to the students' desks, reading articles on her smartphone.
"Chloé Bourgeois?" a teacher's voice asked. Rachel looked up to see that it was Caline Bustier walking through the classroom door, a relatively young woman who was one of the more popular teachers in this school. "What are you doing here so early?"
Rachel just shrugged. "I got up early, didn't feel like going back to bed… so I just came in early."
"Well, I hope you're not expecting extra credit just for being first to arrive," Ms. Bustier remarked, but the small smile on her face told Rachel that it was just a joke.
"No, ma'am," Rachel replied with a small smile of her own.
And sure enough, her classmates began to arrive after her.
Let's see who's in my class this year…
So she greeted them as she saw them. She was glad to see them, and they were glad to see her too.
"Hello Sabrina, you're looking well, and I like your new sweater…"
"Why thank you, Chloé! I had a nice summer break, and I hope you did too."
"Hi Nathaniel, nice new sketchbook you've got there…"
"Um, thanks Chloé," he mumbled, smiling a little bashfully in a way which she found rather endearing.
"Hey, Max, you still owe me a rematch for that last video game tournament, and don't try to blame it on the lag…"
"It's good to see you again, Chloé, but for your information, I have a top-of-the-line Internet connection and I myself managed to boost its efficiency by at least sixteen percent…" (She let Max ramble on a bit before he finished that train of thought and moved on to something else.)
"Nice to see you too, Alix, I'm glad to see you got through the whole summer without breaking any bones…"
"Yeah right, Bourgeois!" Alix retorted, but it was all in good humor. "Like that could ever happen! I've got too much riding on this big event coming up for me!"
"I'd say 'break a leg' to wish you good luck, but I'd rather not," Rachel quipped, getting a laugh out of everyone else.
Alix made a face at her, but the tomboy still smiled.
One by one, the rest of them filled in. Rachel was glad to see them all again, but there were two people in particular she really wanted to see again: Her best friends, Adrien and Marinette.
Not that she would choose between the two of them, but she was really concerned about Adrien. She knew about the hoops he was trying to jump through just to go to school and get out of the Agreste mansion…
And sure enough, Marinette eventually arrived. She was wearing her signature look for the first day back at school.
"Chloé!"
"Marinette!"
Both girls smiled as they gave each other la bise and embraced. They would have met up in person sooner, before this first day of school, but there was no real chance of that because Marinette and her parents had come back only a few days ago. The Dupain-Cheng family had to reopen their business and catch up with things, and Marinette had to help them.
"Good to see you again," Rachel said happily as they separated.
"Chloé, we were just chatting online last night," Marinette pointed out.
"Eh, still," Rachel said with a shrug but still smiling. "In person. You know what I mean."
"Hey, Marinette!" Kim spoke up from the rear of the class. He was one of those who had known Marinette the longest out of any of them, and sometimes considered her like a "little sister" of sorts.
"I'm gonna go say hello to everyone else," Marinette said and excused herself.
"Sure thing."
Just then Rachel noticed a familiar brown girl with reddish hair, thick black glasses and a beauty mark above her right eye. This other girl was technically "the new girl" in this class, but Rachel had already met her, since this girl's mother was now the new chef at Le Grand Paris.
"Alya?" she said. "I thought that was you!"
The bespectacled girl turned to see Chloé there, grinning and waving. After recognizing the blonde, Alya Césaire grinned and waved back to her. "Hi there, Chloé! I had no idea you'd be in my class!"
"Well, here I am."
Marinette drifted back over to them, and she saw Chloé talking with a new girl. "Alya, this is my best friend I told you about," the blonde said cheerfully, allowing Marinette to introduce herself.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," the ravenette introduced herself.
"Alya Césaire," the redhead replied.
"So how do you and Chloé know each other?" Marinette asked.
"Her father hired my mother as a chef for the hotel," Alya explained. "My family and I are originally from Martinique, and we moved here over the summer."
"And her mother is an awesome cook," Rachel added. "Nothing against her predecessor, but I don't think I've tasted anything better than what Mrs. Césaire makes."
Alya beamed at the praise. "So how do you two know each other?" Alya asked Marinette.
"We met here in school a few years ago," Marinette said cheerfully.
"Yeah, it turns out she's an aspiring fashion designer, and I love fashion, so at first we bonded over that and the rest is history," Rachel added, smiling.
Alya grinned. "I think I'm going to like it here."
But just then, Rachel noticed the patient but expectant look on Ms. Bustier's face, as well as the time on the clock. Class was supposed to start in a few minutes. Now they had to choose seats.
"So, where are we sitting?" Alya asked.
Rachel looked around at the few empty seats remaining. "Is it alright if I sit there?" she asked politely, pointing to one seat in particular. "I kind of want to sit next to Adrien for when he shows up."
"Who's Adrien?" Alya asked, brows furrowed.
Marinette had to hide her smirk.
"Childhood friend, homeschooled for the past few years, could use a familiar face to help him out," Rachel rattled off. "I just want to give him some moral support, that's all."
"Oh come on, Chloé, I'm sure Adrien will be just fine," Marinette told her friend. "He's not that sheltered."
"No, he's not that sheltered," Rachel agreed, "but only because his overprotective father hasn't yet dug a moat around their home to go along with the turrets on the roof. And then I suppose filling said moat with alligators or crocodiles would be the next logical step. You know what they say about a man's home being his castle, but seriously…"
As Marinette chuckled at that mental image of Gabriel Agreste "going medieval" on their own home like that, just to "protect" his own son, Alya looked confused. "Okay, you two, what's the joke here?" the new girl asked.
The blonde and the ravenette just gave each other a sideways glance while Marinette tried to suppress a giggle; Chloé had always had the better poker face between the two of them. "Oh, you'll probably understand when you meet him," the blonde told Alya. "Let's just say his father is a little overprotective."
"Chloé, that's like saying the ocean is a little wet," Marinette remarked.
"Class, please take your seats," Ms. Bustier announced.
Ultimately, Alya ended up sitting behind Nino with Sabrina by her side, while Marinette and Chloé sat on the other side of the aisle in the front row.
"Welcome to the school and to Paris as a whole, Alya!" Sabrina said excitedly.
"Thanks, Sabrina," Alya replied with a smile. "So, what do you like to do?"
"Well, I guess I'm a bit of a bookworm," Sabrina shyly admitted, "I'm just really good at reading and writing and handling big loads of information. I was thinking of maybe becoming a lawyer, something clerical like that. How about you?"
"Well, I like to do blogging and other things like that in my spare time," Alya said with a grin. "I want to be a journalist, so I also do a lot of my own writing."
"Interesting," Sabrina said with a smile.
Alya had a feeling that she would like it here.
Sure enough, class had officially begun. And soon enough, Ms. Bustier began roll call.
And who should the very first name be but—
"Adrien Agreste!"
Whispers broke out among the other students. Most of them had already met Adrien at least once in the past though Chloé, but those few who hadn't, like Alya, gaped with shock. Either way, it was still exciting to think that the young model could be one of their classmates.
Rachel glanced over at Alya and could see the other girl's eyes glittering with awe and delight, and sincerely hoped that the aspiring journalist wouldn't take things too far the first time she met Adrien.
"Maybe he's just running late, Ms. Bustier," Rachel spoke up, trying to defend him. And then, maybe a little too much: "It's not really my place to say, but, well, let's just say that he's had some things going on at home."
Ms. Bustier took a moment to process that, and she finally nodded in acknowledgement. "I see," she said at last. "Well, here's hoping that it gets sorted out and he comes to class soon."
There was a moment of brief but intense muttering among the students in the class before it finally settled down again.
"What did she mean, 'some things going on at home?'" Alya muttered to no one in particular.
"I'll explain later," Sabrina hastily whispered to her, and Alya noticed the urgency in her voice. Even now, the ginger was thinking back to the headlines everyone had seen by now about Emilie Agreste disappearing so suddenly. "Please, just trust me on this."
Alya looked a little disappointed at having information withheld from her, but she grudgingly accepted it.
"Very well, then," Ms. Bustier said, "on with the show."
Even though it was now obvious that she was here, Ms. Bustier called her name anyway.
"Chloé Bourgeois?"
"Present…"
The rest of them answered for roll call. Ivan Bruel. Alya Césaire. Juleka Couffaine. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Mylène Hapréle. Max Kanté. Alix Kubdel. Nathaniel Kurtzberg. Nino Lahiffe. Rose Lavillant. Kim Lê Chiến. Sabrina Raincomprix.
And once that was done, class commenced.
The minutes ticked by, but still no sign of Adrien.
"Where is he?" Rachel muttered under her breath roughly ten minutes into the lecture. "He should have been here by now…"
Adrien Agreste was not having a good first day of school.
And that was because he wasn't allowed to actually attend school.
Right now, he was back in the car, with his father's personal assistant Nathalie Sancoeur sitting in the other passenger seat to watch him while his bodyguard "the Gorilla" drove in the front.
"I was really looking forward to it," Adrien muttered. "Chloé would have been there, and all those other kids I've met through her… I could have been in the same class, for all I know…"
Nathalie looked over to him and coolly raised an eyebrow. "Quite eager to see Miss Bourgeois, I see," she commented. "I don't suppose she knew anything about this, did she?"
Adrien kept his face blank. Good thing he'd deleted all those incriminating text messages from last night, he thought. "No," he said. "I just know she goes to this school."
"Did she try to help you get into this school?" Nathalie pressed.
Adrien could tell he was being interrogated. "I wouldn't know if she pulled any strings," he insisted. "Not to my knowledge, no."
Nathalie didn't answer right away, but finally she said, "We'll see about that."
Adrien rolled his eyes, and he didn't care if Nathalie saw him do it.
He closed his eyes, trying to savor every moment before his fancy car returned to the mansion (read: before this armored transport dropped him back off at his prison). He felt bad that he didn't get to see any of his friends again: Not Chloé, not Marinette…
Marinette…
Adrien felt a little funny as he thought about her, but then he tried to suppress those strange feelings about how Marinette made him feel to focus on the matter at hand:
How to escape from his family's mansion (again).
Well, at least he'd managed to help that old man. That counted for something, right?
Even when Adrien didn't arrive, Rachel continued to focus on the class lecture. However, she could tell that she wasn't the only one who'd noticed the absence of another student who was supposed to be there…
At one point during the class lecture, Marinette turned to look at her best friend as if to ask about Adrien. However, the blonde just helplessly shrugged as she looked back at her friend, as if to say, I have no idea either.
And soon enough, class ended, and the various students went off to their different next classes… but there was still no sign of Adrien.
Did his father find out somehow?
You knew things were messed up when you had to help your childhood friend escape to school to get out of his own house, Rachel thought to herself.
Rachel devoutly hoped that they would find Adrien's mother Emilie, and soon. Hopefully, once she was found and reunited with her family, maybe that could finally get Gabriel Agreste to relax and start acting like a normal human being again.
She tried not to think too much about a certain instance from her previous life where a friend's "missing" or "presumed dead" mother was very much alive, but for really bad reasons…
No. Adrien wasn't Marco, and Emilie wasn't Eva.
It wasn't like that all over again. Rachel was sure of it.
She pushed that unwelcome train of thought aside and put her focus on the present again.
A few minutes before class was supposed to end, Mrs. Bustier suddenly announced, "And I think that's enough for today. We did well today, got done a little sooner than I anticipated."
And with a smile, she added, "I believe that one of us has brought in something special for the class."
That was the cue for a certain daughter of bakers. Marinette smiled and got up to face the rest of the class. "My father baked some macarons just for us," she told the class. "Everyone can take one."
She opened the box… which was half-empty, and a few of the remaining macarons looked a little cracked and broken.
"Whoa, what happened?" Rachel asked.
"Dude, don't tell me you ate some of them yourself on the way to school," Nino said aloud, but everyone could tell he was joking.
Marinette smiled as she looked a little bashful. "Don't worry," she told them as she reached over and opened up her backpack. A moment later, she lifted out an identical special box. When she opened it, she showed that it was full of macarons, and they all looked undamaged.
"My father felt it was a good idea to make a spare box, just in case," Marinette grinned. "And he'll be pleased to know that the special packaging worked."
The rest of the class eagerly but respectfully approached, and Alya found herself one of those first. "Go ahead, try one," Rachel told her.
As Alya took one, Rachel said to Marinette, "Go ahead, give me one of the cracked or broken ones from the original box, they all still taste the same in the end."
Marinette smiled and was just about to reply to that when Alya let out a happy sound. "Omigosh!" she said as she chewed. After swallowing, the new girl gushed, "This is the best macaron I've ever had."
"Come to the dark side, we have macarons," Rachel quipped, lampooning a certain meme from the Internet about cookies. The rest of the class got a laugh out of that.
A minute later, Rachel was just about to strike up a new conversation with Marinette when a disturbance behind them caught everybody's attention.
She turned around to see Ivan, who looked ready to punch Kim in the face.
Ms. Bustier was quick to shut down the argument and head off a possible confrontation, and she sent Ivan to the principal's office. He marched out in a huff, and everyone gave him a wide berth as he passed by them.
Somewhere else in the city of Paris, the shutters of a circular window opened, and light poured in to illuminate the room's lone occupant: A man dressed in a snazzy purple suit and wearing a silvery cowl on his head with a butterfly etched over the face.
He mused out loud: "Negative emotions. This is perfect. Just what I need. Anger, sadness… Burn a hole into his heart, my horrible akuma."
A pure white butterfly fluttered over to his open palm, and then with his other hand, he infused it with dark energy, making it glow black and purple.
"Fly away, my little akuma, and empower him to make him my Champion!" Hawk Moth declared.
The akuma fluttered out the open window, and away over the Paris skyline to Collège Françoise Dupont…
With that rugged paper still held tight in his hand, Ivan stood outside the headmaster's office, now seething from Mr. Damocles' rebuke as well as Ms. Bustier's initial reprimand for his behavior.
He didn't even notice the strange dark butterfly fluttering over to him, nor was he aware of it infecting that rugged paper.
But Ivan definitely heard the new voice speaking to him: "Stoneheart, I am Hawk Moth. I give you the power to seek revenge on those who have wronged you."
His negative emotions intensified and his passions inflamed, Ivan didn't resist. "Okay, Hawk Moth."
And then dark purple smoke spread out from his clenched fist, roiling all over his body…
Once that little episode between the two boys ended, Rachel sought out Marinette like she'd originally intended.
Marinette exchanged a concerned glance with her. "What do you think happened to Adrien?" she asked, looking a little concerned.
"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," Rachel replied, fishing out her cell phone.
She tried calling him, but no answer. Could he not get to his phone? Could either of Gabriel's lackeys Nathalie Sancoeur or the Gorilla have gotten to it?
Suppressing her frustration, Rachel dropped the call instead of leaving a voicemail. The last thing she wanted to do was leave a message asking why he wasn't at their school, thereby leaving incriminating evidence for Gabriel to find. And of course it would be Gabriel's lackeys doing that, because doing even that was beneath Gabriel himself.
So instead she just put her cell phone away and went with Marinette to the library to get some work done.
"Hey, Chloé," Marinette whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I didn't want to say anything, and I definitely wasn't going to say anything when he showed up, but…" here, she looked around before delivering her question to her friend. "Any news about Adrien's mother?"
Rachel shook her head. "Not since the last time the subject was brought up," she said with a bit of regret. "And believe me, I want Aunt Emilie to come home again soon too."
"Me too," Marinette replied. "I met her that one time, she was a very nice lady. I still can't imagine what Adrien must be going through…"
"Hey, is everything alright?" Alya asked, gravitating closer to them. The new girl must have heard the other two girls discussing something in hushed tones.
"Later," Rachel muttered under her breath, and Marinette gave the slightest of nods. "Yeah, everything's fine, Alya. How are you doing?"
"I'm doing well," Alya said, "but I'm surprised to find out that Mister Model is a no-show."
"Yeah, we were hoping he'd be here too," Rachel lamented. "I tried getting through to him, but maybe he'll show up later. I'm guessing something happened at home."
"That's what everyone keeps saying, but I have no idea what they mean," Alya said.
Rachel exchanged a look with Marinette, and then turned back to Alya, asking her, "What I'm about to tell you is public knowledge, but please don't make a big deal about it when Adrien shows up, okay?"
Alya nodded eagerly, her long hair bouncing. "Yes, I promise!" she reassured the other two girls.
"Good," the blonde said. Then she told Alya, "So you know how Adrien is the son of Gabriel Agreste the fashion designer, right?"
"Yeah, I was just looking that up," Alya admitted, holding up her smartphone to show various magazine covers with Adrien posing on them.
"Well, you see," Rachel explained, "his mother, Emilie… well, she went missing months ago and they still haven't found her. I really hope they find her soon, not just for her sake or for Adrien's sake, but also because his father just hasn't been the same since. I don't think he's even let Adrien out of the house once since she disappeared." And then, after a beat, she then added, "But don't tell Gabriel or anyone else that I said that."
"Don't worry, my lips are sealed," Alya smiled, trying to reassure them.
"Thanks, Alya," Rachel said. Personally, she just hoped that the other girl would keep her word on that; Rachel could just see the eagerness for a scoop in the eyes of the aspiring journalist.
They got to the library to find that a small crowd was waiting outside. Apparently, the library still wasn't ready to open just yet, as they had to fix some things before letting anybody else inside.
Still, it made for a great chance to talk and catch up and get to know each other.
"So, Alya," Rachel said, deciding to strike up a conversation and especially keen to change the subject from Adrien and his family situation, "I heard you like Majestia."
Fortunately, her gambit paid off. "Oh, Majestia is awesome!" Alya enthused. "I especially like this one quote of hers: 'All it takes for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing!'"
And then she started rambling about superheroes. Rachel found herself thinking back to all the times she'd had to listen to Jake and Marco debating about superheroes (Jake preferred Batman while Marco preferred Spider-Man).
Actually, there was one other thing about this universe which surprised Rachel. If she was baffled by the seeming dearth of aliens, then she was stunned by the existence of superheroes.
Actual, bona fide superheroes. Just like in the comic books which Jake and Marco had loved so much, except she'd never heard of these heroes back in her previous life. Majestia, Knightowl, Doorman, Sparrow, and so many others…
Superheroes existed in this world, and people accepted them as being totally normal. Not only could they save the world, they could serve in office, too! Even now, the current President of the United States, Camilla Hombee, still donned the suit of her alter ego "Victory" when the situation called for it.
I guess being a superhero is a surefire way to get elected into office, Rachel had mused.
"Actually, Alya," Rachel told her, "I got to meet President Hombee when she visited France last year. Even got her to take a picture with me. It was awesome."
"Wow, you lucky girl!" Alya gushed.
Rachel was intrigued by Alya's attitude towards superheroes. Truth be told, it reminded her a little bit of herself, back when she was actually Rachel in her previous life. That enthusiasm for heroics combined with that naïveté about just how horrible the burden could be.
A small part of Rachel actually envied Alya for it. Lucky her.
So Rachel let Alya ramble some more about superheroes until they finally reached the library and they toned their voices down.
But that didn't stop them from discussing anything else.
"So, Marinette," Rachel said, "I assume you're already being bombarded with requests for help for costumes for Halloween this year?"
Marinette smiled, shaking her head. "No, not yet."
Alya turned to Marinette with newfound fascination. "Wait… you can design outfits? Like entire outfits?"
"Costumes, clothes, whatever," Marinette replied.
Rachel could have sworn that Alya's eyes were sparkling now. "Maybe… superhero costumes?" Alya asked hopefully.
Marinette chuckled at Alya's expression. "Sure thing! Just tell me what you want, I'll make a list of supplies, and charge you accordingly."
Alya's expression faltered a little. "Oh, right, of course," Alya said. "I don't know how much cash I have…"
Marinette caught Alya's expression and tried to reassure her. "No, no, no!" she rambled. "It's fine, Alya, don't worry! If you can't pay me all at once, you can just pay in installments! Just ask anybody here at school, I do great work and it's worth it!"
Alya brightened up at that and smiled again.
Personally, Rachel was pleased by that.
It had occasionally been a problem in the past, with people trying to take advantage of the aspiring designer. However, Marinette had worked out a system for her friends and classmates: She made the costumes for her friends, and they paid her what they could in installments and in a timely manner without any interest being charged.
The generous side of Marinette which was eager to please others had to be counterbalanced by the more pragmatic side which knew that she needed money to keep her personal business ventures going.
People knew better than to simply expect freebies from Marinette Dupain-Cheng, barring birthday and holiday gifts, as well as macarons for events such as the first day of school. Besides, with all the baked goods from her parents' bakery, no one could complain. It was literally impossible for anyone to complain when they were savoring every bite of those delicious morsels in their mouths.
Rachel had tuned them out for a bit before paying attention to them again…
"…and I really spend a lot of time on the discussion forums for those heroes!" Alya concluded. Apparently, she'd gone back to talking about superheroes, just like that.
"Wow," Rachel commented. "Blogger, journalist, superhero fan… you remind me of that Chloe Sullivan character from Smallville. I don't suppose you have a 'Wall of Weird' to go with it?"
Alya snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I've seen that TV series too." Focusing on Rachel again, she said, "Why don't you do it, then? Go dressed up as her for Halloween, I mean. You're already a blonde girl with the same name, so it wouldn't be too much of a stretch?"
"Gee, how clever of you," Rachel deadpanned. But both Alya and Marinette could tell that she wasn't really bothered or offended by it.
But deep down, Rachel could find the humor in it and even laugh along at it.
After getting her memories back and getting over her funk, one of the first things Rachel did in this world was go on a personal marathon, watching every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer from beginning to end. She'd only seen the first few seasons of its original run in her previous life, so now she finally got to see how the series ended. And then there was the matter of all its spin-off material to go through…
And when she'd eventually moved on to other media which hadn't been around yet in her time as Rachel, she gave Smallville a try. The series with its focus on a young Clark Kent before he officially became Superman was rather formulaic but must have been great to run for ten whole seasons. That, and its new twist on having people gain superpowers from Kryptonite exposure and become "meteor freaks" was interesting. And when she reached that episode in its fifth season with the vampire-like meteor freak named "Buffy" (and Rachel's inner Buffy the Vampire Slayer fangirl had groaned at that), she couldn't help but think that the blonde actress playing that vampiric character bore an uncanny resemblance to herself, back when she was still actually Rachel.
She must have zoned out again, because she could hear Marinette exclaiming a very familiar name: "…Rachel!"
That snapped her out of it. "Huh!?" Oh crap, did I give anything away!?
Both Marinette and Alya were looking at her a little funny. "Chloé," Marinette said a little teasingly, "I was just telling Alya about one of the costumes I did for you about two years ago — remember? Rachel Tyrell?"
Rachel blinked. "Oh, right… Rachel!" (Gods, it felt so weird, saying her own name — her original name — out loud like that.) "The female lead from Blade Runner."
The blonde flushed a little in embarrassment as she now recalled that incident. It hadn't been all that long since she got her memories back, and it was the only time when she'd accidentally uttered the name "Rachel" instead of "Chloé" in reference to herself. Luckily, she managed to cover for her mistake, claiming that she'd watched the movie Blade Runner and was intrigued by the character Rachel Tyrell and was quoting dialogue from it.
"Yeah, you did a really good job on that one, Marinette," Rachel added, and Marinette beamed with pride.
"Yeah, and you looked really good in it," Marinette said. But then she grinned and added, "Of course, helping you dye your hair black was another issue entirely."
"Ugh," Rachel groaned, perhaps a bit too dramatically. "Don't remind me."
That's the last time I ever dye my hair another color if I can help it… oh well, a small price to pay to keep my secret safe, I suppose.
Alya was grinning at the back-and-forth banter. "You really like your blonde hair that much, Chloé?"
"No, my hair is fine the way it is; I just hate dying my hair different colors, especially after that incident," Rachel retorted. "Never again," she declared.
"But you did follow the directions, right?" Marinette smirked.
"Never again," Rachel repeated.
Alya smirked. Rachel simply let it slide and let her enjoy the good mood.
It was at that moment that the library finally opened, and the librarian beckoned them in with a hasty apology for not being open sooner.
"So," Marinette said, clapping her hands together as they were all herded inside the library, "not that I haven't enjoyed this conversation, but… shall we get to work? Maybe we should get busy before any of the librarians actually find us chatting away."
"I'm way ahead of you, Marinette," Rachel commented, finding and claiming an unoccupied table for the three of them. Once they were settled in, she fished out her nice mechanical pencil and went straight for her best subjects. She remembered just about all the things she'd learned in her previous life, so while she had a bit of an edge with the so-called "universal languages" of mathematics and science, she had to put that gray matter to use when it came to learning French language and history. (Unsurprisingly, knowledge of subjects like American history and English literature weren't quite as useful in the French educational system as they were in the American one.)
It was times like these when Rachel — Chloé — was actually glad to have something resembling a normal life again.
It hadn't been easy at first, but she'd been able to find meaning and happiness in a life which didn't involve deadly violence or fighting off aliens in an interplanetary war. She had learned to be grateful for the opportunity to be an ordinary teenager, as absurd as this situation was in her eyes.
True, she still had to fight off rare pangs of sadness and regret, to say nothing of the occasional nightmare, but she'd mostly gotten them under control by now.
Let it be little stuff like getting together with friends about trivial things, and not fighting merciless monsters with the fate of the world hanging in the balance.
She could almost — almost — forget about being Rachel and instead simply be Chloé.
Maybe that was the idea all along? Was that how things were supposed to be?
For the next several minutes, Rachel blazed her way through her assignments and homework while Marinette and Alya got to know each other a little better, with the other two girls speaking in hushed whispers as not to incur some librarian's wrath.
Yes, things were just fine…
BOOM!
And just like that, the illusion of a normal life in an orderly world instantly fell apart on her, once again.
The room shook with the force of a small earthquake. It was enough to send Marinette sprawling to the floor, while Alya almost followed.
"What the heck was that!?" Rachel exclaimed, instantly on her feet and looking around for any possible threats. Before she even knew it, her sense for danger which she'd honed as an Animorph was rushing back to her.
But then she remembered where she was and acted accordingly.
"Marinette, are you alright?" Rachel asked, leaning over to help pick up her friend.
"I'm fine, Chlo- WHOA!" Marinette exclaimed as Rachel hoisted her up with surprising strength. "When did you get so strong!?"
"Sometime after I got my last colored belt," Rachel muttered hurriedly.
And then they all rushed over to the TV monitors, looking at CCTV footage.
Rachel's jaw dropped in shock at what she was seeing.
There was a big rock monster causing trouble right outside the school, roaring someone's name.
She became so focused that she could barely hear anything else in the room, even her friends and classmates next to her.
Marinette was babbling something about the monster having their classmate Ivan's voice, while Alya was going on about supervillains as she checked her phone, but Rachel wasn't paying attention to either of them.
She felt something overcome her… she could feel her heart beating wildly and the world around her falling away as an old memory gripped her, one of her first missions as an Animorph…
Rachel was running away as fast as she could as a house cat, with only minutes left to demorph before she went past the two-hour time limit and was permanently trapped in morph… and then she was trapped by a beast that seemed to be made of living rock… ‹You won't get away so easily,› Visser Three said, his thought-speech echoing in her mind… rampaging as this three-legged rock monster which must have been twenty feet tall, he tore out the concrete and threw it everywhere, not even caring if he hit his own troops… Visser Three had her trapped, until an explosion happened and she took the chance to leap to safety… the Visser roared in fury as he realized a parked Bug fighter had exploded, thanks to the runaway earthmover… ‹I'll kill you ALL! FOOLS!› he screamed as he caught up to her with monstrously large strides… she leaped away, taking the chance from this height and being caught in mid-air by Tobias, but even then he could only carry a house cat so far with his hawk body… she was already demorphing as she fell through the air and hit the ground, while Visser Three continued his furious rampage against his own unfortunate troops, tossing some of them like toys and stomping others under his feet…
And now, watching this new rock-giant go on a rampage, this thing which could pass for the sibling or cousin of Visser Three's "rock monster" morph… it brought back all the memories which Rachel had tried to keep hidden away since she got them back.
But the memory of her old life wasn't the only thing threatening to resurface. No, it was also the call to action — her love for action and her propensity for violence.
The urge to jump back into the fray and fight again was overpowering, calling out to her like the mythical Sirens and their sweet but treacherously deadly songs.
They only thing tempering that was the cold hard truth that she didn't have those powers anymore.
And that made her angry, knowing that she couldn't do anything about it now.
And now her flashbacks gave way to anger… the thought of those stupid alien slugs and their stupid invasion… oh, if only she could have killed them all, that accursed war-mongering Visser and the rest of the Yeerk leadership… if only she had lived through the end of it…
That fog of rage threatened to cloud her mind once again…
Already, she was thinking of all the different ways she could take down this thing as it was attacking everybody…
If only she could morph and fight again…
Rachel was jolted out of it by Marinette's voice: "Chloé! Are you listening to me!?"
She snapped out of it and whirled around to face Marinette, who then shrank back at the furious look on her friend's face.
Rachel could feel her own face contorted with fury, and so she forced herself to calm down. "I'm sorry, Marinette," she said, trying to breathe and calm down. "I… I don't know what came over me."
"Chloé, that look on your face…" Marinette trailed off.
Rachel shook her head. "Just… the thought of monsters rampaging around Paris… stomping around, hurting innocent people…"
Marinette grimaced a little. "I know."
And then Marinette flinched as the building shook yet again from the stony monster's rampage.
Hawk Moth had been watching his first Champion Stoneheart and keeping tabs on him… when he felt something else through the power of his own Miraculous.
"What's this?" he muttered to himself.
Even when he had a Champion active through the powers of the Butterfly Miraculous, he could still feel the negative emotions of anyone and everyone else in the vicinity.
And just now, as Stoneheart was finally making his way away from the school, Hawk Moth felt it, seemingly bursting out of nowhere.
Burning rage.
It hit him like a blast of heat from a furnace, and if he could have visually seen it, he knew it would have blinded him like a Roman candle.
He took his focus off Stoneheart for a moment, letting his giant champion continue on that rampage, and tried to pinpoint the source of this extremely negative emotion.
Hawk Moth was both intrigued and alarmed by it at the same time. This source of negative emotions would have been so good for his first Champion… but on the other hand, he was simply bowled over by this unrestrained output of anger and hatred. It felt murderous.
But not only did it feel murderous, it also lacked any kind of hesitation or regret… as if the person in question had already taken lives in the past and would not hesitate to do so again.
He could sense the fear of everyone else in the area as the rock giant went on its rampage, but why would anyone feel anger at seeing such a display? That was what made it stand out to him. That was what made no sense to him.
"Who could this possibly be?" he wondered aloud. "So much anger, so much hatred! Whoever it is, this person would make a perfect target for my akuma!"
For a moment there, Hawk Moth was tempted to recall the akuma from Stoneheart and have it seek out whoever was feeling that anger and rage, but ultimately decided against it. No, better to simply stay the present course. Besides, he could already feel all that anger subsiding…
"This bears further investigation…" he mused.
Smirking to himself, Hawk Moth filed that idea away for later.
But for now, he compelled Stoneheart to continue on that rampage…
In another section of the city of Paris, an old man who owned a Chinese massage parlor was calmly sipping his tea, pondering what would happen next.
But this "Mister Chan" was no ordinary man. No, he was Master Wang Fu, now one-hundred-and-eighty-six years old and the last surviving Guardian of the Order whose purpose had been to safeguard the magical items known as the Miraculous.
Master Fu briefly set his cup of tea back down when his chosen companion, Wayzz, came flying into the room with a small whoosh of air.
"Master," the Kwami of Protection said urgently, "you need to see this."
Getting up, Master Wang Fu strode over to the old television set and flicked it on.
He grimaced at the sight of a Champion — no, a minion — in the form of a large rock-like monster rampaging through the city streets.
The Butterfly Brooch was supposed to be used to create heroes in times of trouble, but instead its new bearer — whoever it was — was now using that particular Miraculous to create villains.
Master Fu scowled darkly. The sooner the missing Miraculous was found and retrieved, the better.
"Well," he said at last, "it is a good thing, then, that I managed to hand out the Miraculous of the Ladybug and the Black Cat just in time."
"But do you think your two chosen candidates will be up to the task?" Wayzz inquired, trying to quell his own apprehension.
"We shall see, Wayzz," Master Fu told his floating turtle-like companion, "we shall see…"
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Wow, this "Origins" redux has gotten enormous! I'm sorry this took so long to update, except I've had to rewatch both parts "Origins" AND account for the AU differences, as well as look through the Animorphs books for some really good things for flashbacks!
We've seen in canon how Chloé keeps messing up her butler's name (much like how her own mother Audrey always gets her name wrong), so I've decided to simply call him "Jean" until/unless we ever find out otherwise.
I just had to squeeze in this joke about Buffy, not just because Rachel was a fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in the original Animorphs book series, but because the vampiric character jokingly named "Buffy" from the aforementioned Smallville episode "Thirst" (Season 5) was played by actress Brooke Nevin, who also portrayed Rachel in the short-lived Animorphs TV series (a.k.a. "AniTV") before that. IMHO, this connection between Smallville and Animorphs gets even funnier one when considers how actor Shawn Ashmore showed up in Smallville as the "Leech" villain who could steal Clark Kent's powers… and had previously portrayed Jake in AniTV before that. Funny how both AniTV actors later showed up in Smallville as villains who could somehow sap or drain their victims. Oh, and both Mr. Ashmore and Ms. Nevin showed up in the video game Quantum Break. (And that's the last time I bring up AniTV for the foreseeable future, I promise.)
So yeah, Hawk Moth can sense Rachel's anger burning like a Roman candle. Want something to be scared about? Two words: RACHEL AKUMATIZED.
