Adrien Agreste and the freedom of nothingness.
He'd never quite knew what he'd wanted. Always doing as he was told. It was easier that way, to simply coast along the tides of life, subject to the whims of others. It, in some bastardized way, made him feel as if his life had a semblance of meaning. Other times the opposite. But whatever it may be, it was his to bear.
This was his modus operandi until just a few short years ago. It had been but two and a half years since then. The acquisition of the Black Cat ring had changed him in many ways. For example: he'd learned about love, and how it does nothing but take until there's naught but emptiness left.
He was used to emptiness though. You didn't get very far playing at a pretend life without slowly dying inside. Maybe that's why he kept up the act after his semi-resurrections and subsequent dashing of that spark of vitality. It was better off this way.
He was Adrien Agreste, model, poster-child of the Gabriel brand, Chat Noir, and so much more. Those were the public's perceptions of him however, with the Chat Noir thing being separate of course. He'd made his own perceptions, naturally, but his partner had merely relegated them to teenage angst, so he hadn't really thought much afterward.
And why bother? Deep down, he knew he'd never have the willpower to truly be free. After father died, he'd simply find some other master to serve. Or maybe he'd just end it. Maybe then he'd be free. Well, if he only knew what freedom was. It didn't really matter anyway.
His partner was his only real confidant, but being a millennia old god meant that he would listen, but never quite get it in the way Adrien needed him to. All he wanted was for someone to listen to him, make him feel validated, as if there was even a point to his existence.
Because maybe he was tired of feeling so useless all the time. Maybe he wanted to see a light at the end of that tunnel. But deep down, he knew that if he did see that light, it would only be the fires of hell.
Adrien had thought at one point that his Lady would be the angel that showed him the passage to the light, but then again, no. He refused to think about it.
It was time to get up. There was no point in wallowing around in his self-pity. After all, why bother when it would change nothing? Perhaps he'd watch the new season of that one anime. He rather enjoyed the game it was based on. Nevermind that, an alert has sounded.
"Plagg, Claws out!"
The mask slipped back on easily enough.