The Demon Kingdom had been in a state of chaos ever since Pro Coronam ended and a new King was crowned, this King had won in the tournament, outsmarting the other three Demons and only having to kill one of them. The other two, killed each other. It was the fastest Pro Coronam in Demon history, but just as enjoyable to watch.

For the first time in Adrien's life, Gabriel looked proud of him as he stepped out of the colosseum, his clothes stained with blood. Not his blood of course, the other Demons didn't stand a chance against him after the exorcism.

As the two walked through the castle towards Adrien's room, he noticed his father kept glancing over at him. It was annoying, as if Gabriel was almost suspicious of him. Adrien had done what he wanted, what else could he possibly want from him?

"Is there something on your mind, Father?" Adrien asked without sparing a glance his way, his icy blue eyes more focused on his bloody attire. Gabriel cleared his throat, shaking his head as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"You impressed me during Pro Coronam, I didn't expect you to—"

"Win?" Adrien cut in and Gabriel stared at him as they continued to walk through the halls of the castle.

"No, I had the outmost certainty that you would win, I just didn't expect you to use such a strategy. Outsmarting your opponents; you are truly suited to be King." Gabriel said and Adrien fell silent, thinking back to the battle that took place just that morning.

He had used his wings as an advantage, tripping and smacking the others down with just a flick. His ring came in handy as well, summoning a ball of fire and hurling it at the unexpected. Winning was easy, becoming King was harder. He still had that little voice in the back of his mind telling him this was wrong, that he didn't want to be King and that he should go back to Marinette. He knew it was just his angelic side trying to take over again, so he ignored it and forced it down.

"The Kingdom is expecting to hear from you Adrien," His father said, snapping him out of his daze and he glanced up at the taller Demon.

"Right," He said as they came up to his room, "I should change into more appropriate clothing,"

Gabriel nodded in agreement, glancing down at Adrien's attire with disgust. "Please do, I expect you to be out in the throne room in ten minutes." He said, then turned and walked away. Adrien watched him leave, practically glaring behind his back before going into his room and closing the door behind him.

He let out a sigh as he moved across the floor to the large mirror, staring at his reflection. He nearly cringed. His hair was a mess and his clothing was stained with blood, most likely dried by now. But something looked out of place, perhaps it was because his eyes were no longer their normal green but instead an cold pale blue, the sclera of his eye only a shade darker then his iris. He was different and yet... he still looked like Adrien, like his angelic self. Now he cringed.

He needed to make a few changes.

He went over to his walk-in closest and finally got out of those bloodied garments, tossing them into a pile to be taken out later. He walked past the outfits that were on display, stopping when he spotted one that best suited him. An outfit that was entirely black, the shirt made from an fabric specially made for combat that had arm and shoulder guards embedded with silver lining. The pants were a similar concoction, with ankle guards that connected the pants with the matching steel-toed boots and another guard for his wrists to connect the black gloves. The outfit itself was supposed to be a joke, his father despised it but Adrien was feeling a bit rebellious at the moment, so his father's feelings went out the window in his decision making.

He got into the outfit and was pulling on his gloves when he caught a glimpse of himself in the many mirrors of his walk-in closet. Something was missing. It was too... bland. He needed something that stood out. He made his way over to the drawers of accessories and examined his choices before finally deciding on a collar-like choker with its very on golden bell. Again, another joke to his father. He was going to embrace his cat-like tendencies and features and shove his father's reputation in the dirt. He couldn't control him anymore, Adrien was the King now. He made the rules.

Just before he closed the drawer, his eye caught on another black accessory; a simple mask. He hesitated before taking it into his hands and turning to face a mirror, staring at his dark reflection for a moment before making the decision that he would hide his identity, he was no longer Adrien.

He was a King. He was Chat Noir.

"You're taking this too far!" The Angel in him shouted but he simply ignored it, cancelling out his voice until it was white-noise.

"I won't let father control me any longer, and I certainly won't be tricked by some Angel who thinks she can change who I am." Chat Noir said as he left the walk-in closet, leaving his Angel self behind with it.

He let his wings spread out far behind him, the feathers once full and slick were now unkempt and molting like a dying tree. He couldn't care less, the only thing that was considered an inconvenience for him would be his inability to fly properly now. Normally, he would need to rest, let his wings molt naturally over time. But with the war, that wasn't going to be happening.

He stood before a crowd of Demons, all of them rallied up and wild. They had already heard the news of the Angels declaring war and they had seen Adrien's fight in the Pro Coronam. They were surprised at first, of course, but soon grew to trust him after seeing how he outsmarted his competitors. It was the trait of a true King and they loved it. No one questioned his sudden change of heart, how he went from the only Demon Pacifist to suddenly killing without remorse.

He had completely cut off the Angel side of himself leaving only the Demon in control.

'He's being arrogant,' The Angel thought as he stared up at the sky, blocked by the hazy purple force field that surrounded him like a dome. He laid on his back, letting his wings spread out against the grass around him. He was well-aware that he was inside his own head and yet, everything felt so real. He could feel the breeze seep through his clothing and chill his skin, even the grass felt as though he was there in the forest. The only thing missing was Marinette.

The thought made him sigh, what he wouldn't give to be with her right now. The fact that he could've been gone from this nightmare and been with Marinette somewhere that no Angel or Demon could ever find them, set a fire inside him that was filled with rage for his father. That man ruined everything for him. He ruined his chances of living the life he wanted to live. He didn't choose to be a Demon, he was always like his mother, angelic and kind. The person that was in control of his body at this very moment wasn't him, it was who his father wanted him to be.

He rolled onto his side, running a hand against the white feathers of his wings. He couldn't feel pain in this world, he realized that not much after he rolled over. He was laying on his wing, crushing it with his weight and yet he couldn't feel any pain. Were his wings even real? Was any of this real? Was he real? He didn't know the answer, he didn't know anything anymore.

His world had been completely flipped upside down and torn apart to bits and all he could do was wonder what he could've had. A life with his mother, who cared and loved him or a life where demons and angels weren't at war; a world where they could live together without conflict. A life with Marinette. She was truly the only light in his life, the only one who accepted him for who he was despite being a demon. He might've saved her the day they first met, but she was really the one who saved him. His life was worth living with her in it. Without her he felt... numb.

He didn't realize his eyes had filled with tears until he felt them slip down the side of his face, letting out a trembling breath as he brought his hands up to wipe them away. He couldn't give up just yet, he had to make it back to Marinette, he had to take back control of himself.

He forced himself up, letting his wings stretch out behind him as he straightened out. He glanced around at the dome, trying to figure out a way through. There had to be a way, right? This was his own mind, so somewhere deep, deep down, he already knew the way out. He just had to find out what that was.

After a few more moments of thinking, he decided to just go for it, running straight for it and smashing into it with the side of his body, but at contact he had bounced right back, landing flat with his eyes staring up at the sky. He let out a small whine as a pain in his shoulder spread throughout his arm. He should've expected as much, running head first into things was never a good idea.

He sat back up, catching a glimpse of how the dome rippled like water, almost like it was laughing at him. He frowned, his brows furrowed in determination. He got back on his feet and placed a hand on the force field, his eye catching on a silver gleam coming from his hand. His ring.

His face lit up with an idea and he kept his hand firm on the dome, focusing all of his energy into the band on his finger. He wasn't even sure if this would work, he had never seen the ring turn silver before but he couldn't feel the same power as before which means something other than its apparence had changed.

He needed this dome destroyed. He couldn't conjure up those green flames as before but perhaps if he focused hard enough, he could do something else.

Please do something else.

He watched as his ring slowly shifted to an ebony black, noticing the tingle of power that manifested in his palm. Black matter, almost like smoke, gathered in his hand and he nearly jumped when he felt the force field suddenly begin to crack, like glass being cooled down rapidly.

Then, as if being set off like a firework, the dome broke into shards, tiny purple crystals floating down around him like mist. Despite just being destroyed, it was magical, a beauty he had never been able to witness until that very moment. He watched in awe as they shimmered and slowly fell to the ground, the realization dawning on him that he did this. His destruction created something beautiful.

He had gotten through his first priority; he broke through. Now, he had to take back control.

Demons were blood-thirsty, merciless monsters. Their purpose was to start wars and spread hate, this was what they were made for. For years, they had been deprived of this instinctual hunger, gone insane from withdrawal until they acted almost... normal. They weren't suppose to be peacekeepers, and they were certainly never meant to experience an emotion such as love. Under the command of Gabriel, they had been starving, reduced to killing each other for fun while they awaited the day they could fulfill their purpose.

And that's exactly what Chat Noir did. He brought back purpose. He was their voice and they all willingly followed his lead as he gathered up enough Demons to create an army. There was no need for training, they all knew what they were doing, it was practically etched in their bones.

Fight. Fight. Kill.

He watched them line up in rows of 5, cavalry in the back and armoured up Demons in the front, weapons in hand. They brought with them swords, spears and even nets to catch airborne Angels. Chat had the strategy all planned out; instead of heading straight into battle, they would set up an ambush and flank the Angel soldiers from the sides, using the forest to their advantage. He had a few rules during battle; kill any Angel on sight and if failed to do so, take the injured as prisoners. They were merciless, which meant killing an Angel would be showing them mercy.

Prisoners were to be held in the castle and their fate would be decided by Chat Noir personally.

His thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, his attention being drawn to the Demon next to him. He glared up at his father who only found amusement in his foul attitude. It was as if to say, this is what I wanted. Everything worked out perfectly. I'm finally proud.

"Adrien—" His father started but Chat brushed off Gabriel's hand and returned his attention to the army below them.

"I'd prefer if you called me Chat Noir. Or, if you'd like, just call me 'Your Majesty'; after all, I am the King now. Right, father?" He replied coldly, shooting a side glare at the man. Gabriel only chuckled quietly.

"Of course... Chat Noir,"

Chat felt his wings tremble, another feather lost as he tucked them in tightly. Gabriel noticed this, a small smirk pulling at his lips.

"You should rest here while your wings molt, they're practically twigs now." Gabriel informed him, a matter-of-factly. Chat turned on his heel to face him, his icy blue eyes glaring daggers.

"I will say when I need to rest, you no longer control me. As your King, I believe you are to bow when you speak to me." Chat ordered, a smug smile crossing his face at the look of shock he received.

"But—"

A green hue radiating from Chat's fist silenced him immediately, "Bow."

Gabriel glanced around and Chat noticed the small crowd of Demon officials and Knights that had began to gather, curious and amused. Chat only grinned, finally able to humiliate his father without consequences. Gabriel slowly sunk down, getting to one knee and lowering his head.

Quietly, he muttered, "All hail the King."

Marinette was beginning to question why she decided this was a good idea. Joining the war? Really? A battle against Demons was suicide! She tightened her grip on the reins, her Pooka, Tikki, noticing her distress. Beside her, on the back of Plagg's Pooka form, was Alya who Marinette could tell was just as nervous but somehow she hid it much more effectively.

"Marinette," Started Tikki, glancing back at the Angel on her back, "It'll be alright. We just have to stick to your plan and everything will be fine."

Marinette nodded, taking in a deep breath as she went over the plan again for the 34th time in her head. Head up west, pass the battle and get to the castle without being noticed. Tikki and Plagg played a very important part in all of this, they were Pooka's, which meant they could blend in with Demon horses. Marinette had spent the entire night sewing and cutting fabric to create two black hooded cloaks. She also created masks for herself and Alya, just in case. Hers was red with black spots, like a ladybug, and Alya's was orange, white and black. When Marinette had asked her what she wanted the mask to look like, Alya answered 'something foxy', so that's what she did.

Of course, she might've taken it too literally.

"Nervous?" Alya asked suddenly, catching Marinette off-guard. Her wings puffed up and she nearly fell off the saddle.

"What? Nervous? N-No, I'm not nervous. Where'd you get that idea? Haha..." She trailed off when she saw Alya's expression. A raised eyebrow and a smile that said 'Really?' without words. Marinette deflated.

"Okay... Yeah, I'm nervous. I didn't exactly plan to go off to war at 17 but hey, at least they didn't stop us." She said with a unnatural smile. Alya shared the same uneasy smile, evidently anxious and most likely scared. Marinette didn't blame anyone who was scared, this was war against Demons, they were fighting not only for their pride as Chloe had said but their lives more than anything.

The difference between Angels and Demons wasn't their apparence or beliefs, it was their nature. Angels were suppose to spread love and hope, not hate and war. That was a Demons specialty.

No, Marinette told herself, not all Demons were bad. Adrien was good, he was kind and cared about others. He wasn't like other Demons. He was special. Was he the only one like that?

"Angels of Seraphim! The Queen has ordered the front line to advance! We will set up base in the forest before the Demons and go from there. Allez!" The archangel with large golden wings spoke over the chatter of the crowd and just like that, the front line cavalry set off and followed him into the forest. Marinette took in a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heartbeat, her nerves peeking as the reality of everything dawned on her.

This was happening. Her fellow Angels were most likely about to be brutally slaughtered and she was about to go rogue with her best friend to save a Demon. She didn't want her secret to come out but her biggest concern at the moment was surviving to hear the lecture.

After a moment, they called for the archers to advance and then the healers. That was their cue, now they just had to get past the battlefield and eventually find Adrien.