An explosion sounded from somewhere outside her, and her body shook. In fact, everything shook. In an instant, Marinette couldn't see two feet in front of her, and she didn't know when she'd let go of Adrien's hand, and her vision was zizzy. Objects rushed back and forth past her so quickly she couldn't keep an eye on anything for longer than a few seconds.

At first, Marinette wondered if she was passing out from anxiety. Or hallucinating. But then her vision cleared somewhat, and those blurry objects weren't objects - they were people, adorning the most terrified expressions of anyone she'd ever seen. Though the ringing in her ears kept the sound of her people's screams from reaching her, she knew the sounds they made.

The shaking stopped, but her body didn't. She saw something in the corner of her eye, blood trickling down her arm. She wiped it away, hoping that she wasn't hurt too bad, but there was no sign of injury on her arm. The blood. It wasn't hers.

She looked around, trying to assess the situation. She was still inside the shop, but there were gaping holes in the walls, too high for people to reach. People were trying to get out, but the door was covered with beams. They were stuck. Her vision quickly swung to the ground, checking if anyone was hurt, but it made her head spin. Marinette's body twisted as she tried to keep herself upright. But at the same time that she spun, she realized some of the wooden beams, broken, were on fire. They had to leave. And fast.

This all could have happened in seconds or minutes. Her brain wasn't catching up, and she couldn't understand why. Why was she so slow?

Suddenly, something pushed Marinette on the ground. She was held down, and though her first response was to freeze, her senses heightened the second she felt someone's hand on the back of her neck. Sound rushed to her ears like the ocean in a seashell. She twisted her body, pushing herself on top of the tall person, elbowing them in the gut, and pushing herself to a standing position. She mentally gave a brief thanks to the months of self defense lessons.

A different hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her back down. She hit her face against solid rock on the way, and the bang made her ears ring again. In an instant, she kicked the person, and from the solid, clunky sound followed by no movement from them, she knew she'd knocked them out, though she hoped that was the worst of it. She looked down at the individual. Oh shit. It was one of the guards. Which meant...

A hand grabbed her arm, presumably from the first person. She flipped around, her muscles reacting faster than her brain could, and she twisted the arm of the tall person who'd originally held her down, pushing down hard enough to stop their movement temporarily but not injure them.

She made eye contact with dark blue eyes.

"Marinette!"

It was Luka. Marinette cringed at his presence and let him go immediately. He was dressed in his uniform, but his face was dark on one side, red liquid covering the left half of his face. He looked like he was about to pass out, and he spun on his feet. "Luka, I'm sorry! What are you doing here? Why did you grab me?"

He gaped at her stupidity. "I'm a guard. Your highness, we have to leave. Now. There's been an attack. We have to get you to safety."

Marinette looked around, and saw someone was breaking down the walls, pushing aside the rubble, but it didn't budge. She watched a woman against the walls, with her hands over her head as a man tried to talk to her calmly on one knee, ready to run at a moment's notice. She saw an older woman staring at an open hole in the ceiling. Then, she remembered why they were there in the first place.

"Wait," she jolted. "Where's Adrien?" she asked.

"A few of the guards got to him faster than I got to you. Let's go." He reached for her hand, which she ripped away.

"A few? Where are the others?" She bounced back and forth on her feet, looking for the next best plan of escape.

His expression told her what she needed to know. "We have to leave, now. Your life depends on it."

She laughed wildly, waving her arms around. That's when she realized there was smoke in the air, and she coughed, followed by more. She looked around, pulling away from him as he held out his hands defensively. "My life? What does that matter in all of this? We have to make sure everyone is okay!"

"Your highness, I don't want to use force, but I will if I have to."

"What do you expect us to do? We're trapped in here."

"We'll find a way. Don't fight me on this."

Marinette looked around at her options. She needed to get out of here. She needed to make sure Adrien was okay. Oh, god, she needed to find that little girl...

She gave one last look to Luka, who read her expression and lunged at her at the same time she bounced to the side, onto one of the tables, which toppled over with her weight. While Luka got tangled up under the table, she rolled and was suddenly facing the old woman who had been standing and staring at the holes. The woman's eyes were a dark, deep brown, her white hair contrasting against her umber skin. They stared at each other before the woman shakily lifted her finger and pointed up.

She whispered so quietly that Marinette couldn't hear her, but Marinette read her lips clearly. One word. One word, and Marinette went cold.

"Fire."

She followed where the woman's finger was pointing and saw where the smoke was coming from. Although it wasn't super obvious at first, there was fire slowly growing from the edges of the wood, filling the air slowly with smoke as people pushed against the door, fighting against the rubble. Her head swiveled like a top, looking through all of the bodies, searching for little Neira. But she realized she couldn't see the little girl or her father. They were gone completely, just as Adrien was.

Marinette sprinted, jumping behind the counter, hoping to find a weapon, like a bat, to break down or push away some of the stuff in the way. But behind the counter, she found a miracle.

"There's an exit here!" she screamed to everyone, pointing toward a small hole in the wall, which was just big enough for people to crawl into. "Come here! There's an exit!"

A few heads turned her way, and they started telling the others to leave, too. She motioned for a few to come, but just then, Luka stood, holding his shoulder in pain - he must have hit it under the table. Marinette felt a moment of panicked guilt, but when he made eye contact with her, his eyes serious and dark.

But just as he started to match toward her, the old woman fell, clutching her heart as she coughed. Luka stopped, staring at her, back to Marinette, and then yelled to Marinette, "Stay right there!" as he bent down to help the old woman up. Marinette didn't stay to see past that. Instead, she bent down and crawled through the hole.

Luka would save the woman. He knew the right thing to do.

She ran against the running crowd and found her way over to the streets through one of the gaps open in the walls. She felt people's bodies press into hers, and she just needed space to see, see if she could find Neira, make sure she was okay. But the sight in front of her was just as horrifying as the one seconds prior.

There hadn't been an explosion only in the coffee shop. Whoever had done this had sent bombs to the various buildings on main street. It was chaos. People were screaming, running to and fro, looking for loved ones, looking for a safe spot, not knowing if there would be more. Over all the chaos, Marinette heard Luka's voice calling after her, and she sprinted in the opposite direction. She had to find Neira.

But just as she turned a corner, she ran right into someone, shorter than she was. They both knocked back, and she looked up and saw a little boy with incredibly pale skin and triangular eyes. His t-shirt had blood all over it, and he held his arm at an odd angle. He spoke with a heavy Chinese accent, and she wished she could speak Chinese the way her mother had always nagged her to.

Instead, when he motioned for her to follow him, she followed without a second thought, and he hobbled down the alleyway, in between two dumpsters. She gasped at the view in front of her.

"What happened?" she asked in broken Mandarin as she quickly bent down over an unconscious teenage girl.

The boy mimicked an explosion, speaking too fast for Marinette to understand. She looked over the body, trying to find the source of the injury as she peeled back the hat, hoping the hat had been enough protection to avoid injury. The girl's head bobbed to the side, and Marinette pulled her hand away to slippery blood across her fingers.

Marinette knew first-hand that head wounds were dramatic, and they could quickly escalate. So she took off her outside sweater, her heart pounding so much she barely felt the bitter cold, and wrapped it tightly around the wound as the little boy scurried around her, mumbling incoherently. He bent down next to her and let out a sob. She held out the hand that wasn't covered in blood and took his hand in her own.

"She'll be okay," she whispered.

Just as she finished the wrap, holding it tightly, Marinette bent down to pick up the knocked-out teen, but she saw something - a familiar color - shine and reflect from in the girl's closed palm. Marinette reached for the object, but the little boy stopped her, him reaching for the shiny object first. He held it behind his back as he looked at her with a scared expression.

Marinette tried to keep her voice calm as she said, "Please give that here."

The boy didn't move, didn't respond at all, didn't shake his head. He just stared fat tears rolled down his cheeks, creating streaks over the dirty splotches. Who was this boy, and what happened to this girl?

Marinette reached forward, her hand held out. "Please, hand it over. I need that to help your sister." In the long run, it would help them all.

The boy's silent crying filled Marinette with a sadness she didn't know she possessed. It wasn't natural for children to cry like that. She could see it in his eyes - the fear. The sadness. Worse, the guilt.

Marinette didn't look away. This was a boy, scared for his life. Maybe, if she could get him to trust her, he could tell her something about the Akumas. He knew, he obviously knew, about this attack. But the longer they stared, maybe it was seconds, maybe minutes, but the longer they stared, the more she could see his resolve fall.

Reluctantly, he shakily moved his arm from around his back and dropped the object onto the ground. Marinette quickly picked it up and stuffed it into her bra, knowing she would look at it later. Right then, she needed to get these kids to safety.

She bent down, ready to pick up the teen girl, but instead, she found large arms wrapping around her tightly in that exact instance. In an instant, she elbowed the person, screaming to let her go, but the grip tightened. She tried to turn, panicking as she screamed at the strong individual. Did the Akumas find her?

"Stop! These kids need help!"

"It's time to leave, Princess. You can't play the hero," the voice that growled in her ears was one she vaguely recognized, but she couldn't place where it came from at first. She felt her panic rise with each step she was taken away.

"They need help!" she sobbed, trying to use every self defense move she knew against the strong man who so easily carried her away. She kicked, and then suddenly, Chloe was in front of her, grabbing her feet, stopping her from kicking any longer.

"General Manden, follow me."

Marinette didn't care it was General Manden carrying her. There was still chaos in the streets. People were still running, still screaming, and the children in that alleyway, she could still see as the little boy watched her, tears running down his face as she was carried off. and pushed into an official vehicle.

"Let me out! Let me help them!"

General Manden's strong arms holding her down, she squirmed and kicked at anywhere, the window, the chair, into the front seat, and Chloe - surprisingly strong - wrapped her arms around the kicking legs and held them firm as Marinette squirmed, feeling cramped in the car and trapped between strong arms, and she tried to turn to look out the window, the view of the wreckage too far behind to see even if she could turn.

Eventually, she released, slumping into the seat at an awkward angle between the muscly guard and the empty seat, her ankles still wrapped in Chloe's arms. She thought about the horror-filled expressions, the shock, the deaths.

This would not happen again. No matter what, Marinette would stop the Akumas. And they would be sorry.