Marinette rubbed at her dark eyes, utterly exhausted. The night before had been a whirlwind of emotions and decisions. She had returned home, her mind heavy with the weight of recent events. The moment her head had touched the pillow, she slept immediately. Unfortunately, it felt as though only a single second had passed before she was gently roused from her dreams by her handmaid's soft voice.

Marinette found herself feeling drained as she sat through the seemingly endless-not to mention uninformative-advisor's meeting. She rubbed her eyes, struggling to focus on the matters at hand, her mind often drifting into the fog of exhaustion. Every blink felt like there was drying glue on her eyes, begging to just stay closed.

However, just as she was about to succumb to the fatigue, a conversation nearby roused her from the brink of drowsiness. Their voices, though hushed, carried an unmistakable sense of urgency that drew Marinette's attention like a moth to a flame, and her brain alerted her.

Advisor Brance and Advisor Gomez, seated not far from her, broke through the monotonous drone of the post-meeting chat, which usually Marinette left quickly. Their discussion, though hushed, held an undeniable urgency that piqued Marinette's curiosity like a siren's couldn't resist eavesdropping on their conversation, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. Advisor Brance's occasional involvement made this exchange all the more intriguing.

Advisor Brance, who typically remained silent during meetings, leaned in closer to Advisor Gomez, known for his often unhelpful comments.

Advisor Brance, her voice barely above a whisper. "Any updates on The Archer?"

Marinette felt an imaginary antenna lift in her thoughts. The archer? She wracked her brains trying to remember anything about an archer-maybe something that Plagg had gone over in one of her classes. But an

Advisor Gomez, equally hushed but always ready with a comment, replied, "Not much, but I caught wind of something... interesting, maybe related. General Manden has been spending an unusual amount of time down in the dungeons."

Marinette's pulse quickened, and she leaned in slightly, straining to hear their words. The dungeons? Marinette had no idea they had dungeons, middle-ages style. It had never been a topic of discussion in her presence.

Advisor Brance raised an eyebrow, her graying hair casting a shadow over her serious expression. "General Manden? That's peculiar. What could he possibly be doing with The Archer?"

Advisor Gomez's voice wavered with uncertainty as he continued, "I'm not entirely sure, but I heard they are... connected. Even after the attack against the princess and the Agreste boy, Manden never went down there... But since the bombing, he goes down there often."

Marinette forced her face to remain neutral and not show the shock. Her first date came back to mind, when she and Adrien had gone on a hike-only for it to be ended quickly when someone flung an arrow at Adrien's head. It was not a pleasant memory, and she realized she had never had an update for that, having been so focused on keeping her knowledge of the Akumas a secret from Plagg.

Advisor Brance's voice dropped even lower, a blend of intrigue and unease coloring her words. "Do we have any details?"

Advisor Gomez shook his head, his eyes darting around cautiously. "Unfortunately, no. It seems that General Manden has kept this matter exceptionally discreet. I couldn't find out more. But if you ask me? I think The Archer knows more about the Akumas than he lets on, and Manden has taken it on himself to figure it out."

"Do you know his condition?"

Gomez's haughty smile made Marinette's stomach churned. "Whatever it is, it's what he deserves."

Marinette, though tempted to sit longer and lean into this conversation, knew that her eavesdropping could raise some suspicion. She pretended to redirect her attention to her notes, pretended to be engrossed in the meeting's empty proceedings, until a few of the advisors decided to leave the room. It was her turn, then, to leave for class. The dungeons and their secrets would have to wait.

They wouldn't have to wait long, though. The rest of the day passed in a haze of lessons and classes, starting up her self defense classes again, leaving her body sore and exhausted. But Marinette's thoughts kept circling back to the dungeons. Once her classes concluded, dinner was eaten, and the corridors were darkened with twilight, Marinette decided to sneak out of her room to the dungeons. She claimed to retire to bed early, Luka stoic and cold as he stood outside her door, and she quickly found her way through the vents.

Dressed in simple, dark sweats with a hood that hopefully kept her hidden in the shadows, Marinette exited the nursing station's vent, and she snuck through the palace's dimly lit corridors. She ventured into the library, searching-and quickly finding-floor plans for the castle. About halfway through, she found the right hallway she'd need to pass through, and she stuck the papers into her inner pocket, deciding she'd draw them out for future reference. With a swift walk, she left the library silently and quickly passed through the dark hallways without being seen once.

Sometimes, when Marinette snuck around like this, she couldn't help but wish that it was harder. If she could sneak around, so could anyone else. And that thought was unsettling.

Marinette moved through the halls cautiously, each footfall barely echoiing in the dimly lit corridors. The atmosphere hung heavy in the air, and the faint scent of dampness clung to her. She double checked the pages she'd snagged, but she knew exactly when she'd arrived at the doors because the walls changed quickly. The stone walls of the dungeon were rough and uneven, covered in patches of moisture and moss that gave the place an eerie feel. Marinette couldn't shake the feeling that these walls held deep secrets that would never be uncovered.

As she entered through the doors-empty of guards- the silence was punctuated only by the occasional distant drip of water. The silence was suffocating.

With each step, Marinette's thoughts raced. She couldn't help but wonder about the dungeons' history and purpose. How long ago was it built? Had they been used for punishment or confinement? What tragedies did this room carry?

And, above it all, why was it still there?

The very existence of a dark place beneath the palace felt so... wrong, a stark contrast to the grandeur above.

As she turned a corner, she stopped suddenly, coming face-to-face with the dungeons. They were... exactly what you'd expect from a dungeon. Heavy stone gates with giant locks. The cell she faces was compact, with low stone walls that made Marinette-who wasn't even inside-feel claustrophobic. The floor was uneven, cold. The air was thick with a musty, earthy odor, and the only furnishings in the cell were a small wooden stool and a simple, straw-filled mattress, laid on the floor.

But the cell wasn't the most horrific thing Marinette saw. Laying on the straw-filled mattress was a man, his form hunched and frail. His dark hair was long, unkempt, clearly matted with knots and snarls, laying across his makeshift pillow-a wadded up, thin blanket. The man was thin and pale, and Marinette hadn't been prepared to see it.

The Archer. It was the first time she had laid eyes on him, and he wasn't what she expected. Although she hadn't had much time in the hustle of things to really imagine him, she realized it wasn't this. She had assumed he'd be a menacing figure with large muscles and a strong form. Instead, she looked at a fragile person who wore tattered clothing, restrained by the ankle with an iron shackle, and no extra blankets.

Barbaric. Not him, but where he was.

The Archer's piercing blue eyes suddenly opened and met Marinette's. She recoiled at the cold yet look, hiding behind the anger a strong sense of intelligence. He spoke with a harsh, desperate rasp. "Come to mock me? Revel in my suffering?" He closed his eyes then. "Have fun with it. Just be quiet as you do so. I'm sleeping."

Marinette was taken aback by the accusation. She quickly shook her head, her voice filled with sincerity. "No, I didn't come here to mock you. I came because... Well, I don't exactly know. I came because I need answers, and I believe you have information that can help me."

The Archer's expression turned upwards slightly as he opened his eyes back up, though wariness still lingered. It wasn't a happy expression, per se, but it was... smarter. "Answers? If you're looking for answers, you better have some good questions."

Marinette approached cautiously, her heart aching at the sight of his suffering. She gestured to his restraints. "First, I want to know why you're being held here like this. You're the Archer, right?"

He scoffed. "The Archer. My name is Press. But yes, some people know me as 'The Archer'." He started to struggle to sit up.

Marienette frowned, unsure if she should help him."Are you here because of what happened to you after the incident with Adrien? And you're an Akuma, correct?"

The Archer let out a bitter laugh, the sound devoid of humor. "Ah, 'the incident'." His tone was mocking. "I never intended to harm him, you know. My aim was to be seen." He grinned widely, dark yellow teeth caked in something. "And boy was I seen."

Marinette frowned. "Yet, you're sitting here like this. Not sure if I'd Call that worth it."

"True," he said, jangling his shackles. "But you're also here, asking talking to me. Your Highness. Do you see me?"

Marinette looked around, unsure if he had lost his mind in a place like this yet. She looked back at him, and despite it all, he was the only alive thing in the room. In the darkness, she could feel an energy coming from him, could see his moving skin as he breathed. "I guess I do..."

"And you're asking questions. So you hear me too."

She nodded, unsure where he was going with this. So far, this conversation felt like it had instantly slipped out of her control, and she tried to keep her composure against this tragic man.

"What then, will you do next? Will you feel me, then? Touch me? Taste me? No your highness, don't give me that look. I'm not being facetious, I'm not being anything but real. Look at me and feel me without your hands. I'm nothing more than the rest of this kingdom, nothing more than the townspeople... look at me and taste my pain—your people's pain. Smell the way they're failing every day." Marinette turned her head, unable to watch the intensity in his eyes. Then, his voice turned softer. "See the truth about this kingdom, the corruption, the suffering.

"You see, Your Highness," he continued, "I may be the Archer, but I was taken and thrown into here before anyone would listen."

Marinette listened intently. It felt like he was speaking in riddles despite the fact that he spoke it with so much passion and emotion. "I... understand that your intentions might not have been malicious. But why Adrien? And, why did you become an Akuma? The Akumas just keep sending messages of fear to people—what have they done that's good so that you follow them?"

The Archer smiled. "They got you here, eventually."

"What do they want?"

He shrugged. "A little bit of this. A little bit of that. Mostly, they want change."

Marinette's eye twitched as she forced herself to not roll her eyes. She'd heard that before. "What specific change?"

He laid back down, bumping his head on the ground, and then groaned. "I think that depends on who you ask."

She let out a huff. "What do YOU want then? What drew YOU into this? Hm?"

The Archer's gaze grew distant as he recounted his experiences. "I was desperate, Princess. It's as simple as that. But I think a lot of people are desperate right now... Want to know a fun fact, Princess?"

"Go ahead."

He grinned again. But this one was much more bitter. "I grew up in the slums. Have you ever been to the slums, your highness?"

She hadn't. She knew they were somewhere in the main town, closer to the middle of the city but far enough from the castle she hadn't had to think about them much. Her mother and father had always warned her to stay away from that part of town, that it was dangerous and she could get hurt. She'd thought about it a few times when visiting town with her mother, tempted to see what was so scary, but she never was actually brave—or maybe stupid—enough to go there.

She decided silence was answer enough.

The Archer continued. "When you live in the slums, you lose. You were born to lose. Take a step forward, you lose a foot. Move ahead, and life has a funny way of reminding you just how far behind you are. The Akumas are all the same, no matter where they come from... and me?" He laughed again. "I had lost everything, so I was vulnerable and looking for more. When you're stuck—desperate—like that... your best bet is to take what you want. And the Akumas let me do that. I encountered a man who promised me the power to change the kingdom. I agreed, not fully understanding what all that entailed." He looked around the dungeon walls, as if reminding himself where it got him.

Marinette fought off the thought that even she was just as trapped as he was. She shoved it away.

"Tell me more about this man," Marinette sad, her voice harder than she meant to. "Was it Monarch? If not, who?"

The Archer hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I... I have some information, but I need something in return. I need assurances of my freedom. I can help you, Princess, but only if you can secure my release from this wretched place."

Marinette knew that securing The Archer's freedom would not be easy. But she also recognized the value of the information he held. She nodded, a promise that she didn't know how to fulfill. "I'll do everything in my power to help you, but I need your trust as well."

The Archer regarded her for a moment, his piercing gaze searching her face for sincerity. Finally, he nodded, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Let me out of here, Princess, and I will share what I know."

Marinette nodded. "I'll speak to my advisors," she lied. She wouldn't speak to them, not with everything she knew about them. Advisor Gomez had made it clear that he thought The Archer got what's coming to him. No, she wouldn't speak to them.

But she'd get him out.

As Marinette left the dungeons, her mind raced with ideas and possibilities, keeping an eye out on the hallway's weaknesses. Somehow, she'd get him out. Did he deserve punishment for trying to kill Adrien? Sure. Torture? Never.

As she emerged into the dimly lit corridor, she turned a corner and jumped about 10 feet in the air, finding Adrien waiting there against the wall, facing a painting. He regarded her with a curious expression. "Marinette, why are you here?"

Marinette suddenly remembered that Adrien was the son of Gabriel Agreste—known Akuma. Her response was filled with more heat than she'd intended. "What are YOU doing here?"

Adrien's eyes flickered to the painting on the wall. "Well, it started with wanting to hang out, but I saw you head down here... I followed, but... got distracted."

Marinette's heart raced as she tried to compose herself in Adrien's unexpected presence. She couldn't let him know the real reason she was down here in the dungeons, especially given his family's involvement with the Akumas. She needed a quick excuse, and it had to be a good one.

She forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Distracted by a painting, huh? Must be a really fascinating one to explore these dark, damp corridors." She gestured to the bleak surroundings, trying to downplay the strangeness of her being in such a place.

Adrien chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, it was interesting... I mean, not the painting itself, but more like the history behind it." He hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting to the dimly lit corridor. "But Marinette, why are you here, really?"

Marinette had to tread carefully. She couldn't reveal her true intentions, not to Adrien or anyone else. She decided on a partial truth, one that would hopefully satisfy his curiosity without arousing suspicion.

"I was curious about this part of the palace," she admitted, her voice carrying a note of innocence. "Someone during my morning meeting mentioned the dungeons... I mean, it's not every day you hear about the dungeons, right? I just wanted to see what it was like down here." She offered a nervous laugh as she glanced around the gloomy corridor. "Turns out, it's not as exciting as I thought."

Adrien nodded, seemingly accepting her explanation. "Yeah, I get it. It's mysterious and all that. But, um, just be careful, okay? The dungeons aren't a place for a princess to wander alone."

Marinette appreciated his concern, even if it was based on a misunderstanding. She flashed him a grateful smile. "I will, Adrien. Thanks for looking out for me."

Adrien smiled back, though there was still a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "No problem. If you ever want to explore a less creepy part of the palace, just let me know."

Marinette agreed, relieved that she'd managed to divert his attention. "I'll keep that in mind. Now, I should probably head back to my room. It's getting late."

As she turned to leave, she received a text message notification on her phone. It was from Alya: Care to meet tonight?

With a final smile to Adrien, she made her way back through the dimly lit corridors, her thoughts consumed by the secrets of the dungeons, the Akuma she had encountered within them, and now a meeting with Alya. She doubted she'd get much sleep tonight.