Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir

Stranger in Town

The Madness of Love's Flame Chapter 32

...

Hotel Bourgeois was ablaze, but the guests had been evacuated. Chloe wasn't reassured; the person she was looking for was no guest.

"DADDY!" She ran through the halls, such as were not on fire, calling him. She knew if Damien had sensed him here, here's where he'd be.

But the roar and crackle of the Fire, accompanied by its distortion of the ambient light in the hotel, was hampering her ability to find him. She looked in his living quarters-nothing-the downstairs janitorial area-his "treasure compartment" on the roof-still nothing-every closet-again, nothing-the kitchen-more nothing. She was running out of places where he might be.

A horrible thought occurred to her. What if he'd already been consumed by the Flame? She knew, from what the shadonai had told her, that the Flame tended to consume a person, body and soul, leaving nothing behind. That might account for his absence.

"Oh, not another one!" said an angry female voice behind her. She turned, to see Akane-it had to be her-just then entering the kitchen, the Madness of the Flame swirling about her. Her whole person exuded anger.

Anger which Chloe matched erg for erg. "What have you done with my father?!" she shouted / screamed, over the roar of the Fire. "Where is he?"

Akane didn't even hear her. She grabbed Chloe by the throat and slammed her up against a nearby wall. "I have had enough of you mortals wanting my man."

Chloe struggled, but it was no use; the shadonai was too powerful. She could feel the heat building up inside her. Heat, and something else. Something worse than mere heat.

"No!" said a voice from behind. Mayor Andre Bourgeois, still wearing his business suit, complete with sash of office. "Don't hurt her! Leave my princess alone!"

Later, Chloe could never say for sure if Akane deliberately turned towards her father, or if she was simply startled into turning towards the sound of his voice. Either way, the result was the same: the fireblast she'd intended for Chloe struck Andre Bourgeois full-on, reducing him to a dark smear on the wall behind him.

"Nooooo!" Chloe slumped to the ground. Her worst nightmare…the one person, in all the world, who's love she could count on… "You monster!" Akane turned back to her…

…and Phantasm's double-leg kick struck her full in the face.

Akane was more startled than hurt. But nothing likes being struck in the face; she was distracted by this new attack. It took her a moment to refocus her attention on the more immediate threats.

A moment in which Z took the opportunity to attack, using his new weapon. On the way over he'd modified it, perfected it, to where he could focus the effect. The blast took Akane in the upper torso, knocking her back through a wall and out of the immediate area.

Chloe was still recovering from the choke-hold she'd just experienced. Sabrina rushed to her side, heedless of the danger of the Flame. Zeta went to them both, helped them both up. "Get her out of here," he told Sabrina.

"Daddy…" Chloe was weeping inconsolably; Sabrina levered her up, guiding her towards the door furthest away from the Flame, just as Damien shadowcloaked in. "Z, is it? Look…" both of them looked up as a blood-curdling scream wafted in from the hole in the wall where Akane had recently been slammed through. "Look, take them and get out of here. The others are outside, preparing to set up a teleport-field around this place." At Z's expression, he added, "I have to stop this. I have to stop her. Otherwise, this Flame will consume more than just this planet."

"Can you stop her?" asked the alien warrior. "I was given to understand-*"

"I know, but I think I can. In fact, I'm the only one who can. But hurry; if they get that field set up, even you won't be able to get through it. You've a responsibility out there." Z's face was calm; he knew he was talking about Kyrie. "I've a responsibility here. Hurry."

Outside: the assembled angels and demons were preparing the pentagram around the building as Phantasm, half-carrying Chloe, emerged, followed by Z. Deanna, working with the others in building the pentagram. Her attention drawn to the burning hotel, her Sight saw Damien disappearing into the interior. "Whu-DAMIEN!" she screamed. She started towards the burning hotel, only to be restrained by Lord Darian's shadowcloak. "Let me go! He'll be killed!"

Meanwhile, Z had ushered the two humans to the demons' line, where a number of Morax's medical devils rushed to attend them. "Don't, don't worry about me," gasped Sabrina, "See about Chloe."

"Daddy…!"

But Sabrina could only hold her. There was no comfort to give.

High overhead, the ARCs had arrived. They rapidly began spreading out over the entirety of the planet beneath them. Legions of angels emerged, and began weaving powerful force-fields over the planet. But already, one plume of Madness Flame had extruded upward, straight from Paris, from Hotel Bourgeois, to be exact, extending millions of miles into space. It short-circuited the angelic force-field in that localized area, and the remainder of the angelic squad devoted their attention to closing off that plume.

Because that force-field was not there to protect the planet. It was there to protect the rest of the solar system, and maybe the entire galactic sector; if not to completely contain the expected blast, then to keep said blast from annihilating this portion of the galaxy.

Damien moved with shadonai speed throughout the confines of what was left of Hotel Bourgeois. Most of the building itself was still standing, but the Flame was everywhere.

He had to find Akane.

The problem was, just as she couldn't sense him, he couldn't see or sense her, not directly. But he could focus on those areas in which his senses were least reliable.

A scream-a perfectly human-sounding scream, albeit it seemed to come from far, far away-resounded in his ears. He turned towards it, moving his head from side to side to triangulate on the scream's source.

There. Just up ahead, he could see / sense an area of distortion. He sheathed his trident. No amount of brute force would be of any use to him here.

Like a blind man, he felt around in the distorted area, finally finding a humanoid form. A humanoid form he couldn't see. He wrapped his arms around it with desperate strength and pulled her to him. "Akane! Akane, it's me! Damien!"

She struggled, but the Flame had sapped her strength. "No, no, get away!" he heard a distant voice cry, "You'll die! You'll die!" But she could no more see him than he could see her, and ended up wrapping her arms around this strange invisible enigma. "Go away! Get away!

"I don't want to hurt you, my love!

"Not again!

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry…"

"Akane, listen to me. I know you're hurting, but just listen, okay? Just listen…" And he bent his head down to where he reasoned hers had to be, to where he hoped her ears were, and whispered into them. Whispered three words. Three of the most powerful words in any language…

She slumped against him, and he had to hold her up. If what he could feel was accurate, she was barely conscious. "Akane, listen to me. Give me this Flame. Just give it to me, now."

"No…you'll die…"

"No, I won't. Just give it to me. Now." And he configured his shadowcloak so that the incoming Flame was teleported into a lifeless universe. Even so, the small amount that he missed, that got through…he'd never known such agony. Even the Black Throne's torture of him was as nothing compared to this. "Just…give it to me, Akane. Give it all to me."

Outside: Lord Darian had taken charge of the angel / demon forces. "Warriors of Hell, merge your shadowcloaks!" He 'pathed them the coordinates for what he sincerely hoped would be a lifeless universe. If it wasn't, it soon would be.

But just as he was about to give the order, Morax jostled his arm. "Exalted One, wait. Look." And he pointed overhead.

Because the massive plume of Flame was dwindling, shrinking down, even as the outbreaks of Flame around Paris were visibly shrinking. "Look." He pointed towards the hotel.

An unsteady Damien came out, carrying a seemingly unconscious Akane. Brought her right up to Morax. "Honored One," he said, his voice little more than a croak, "Please. Help her. She's…hur-*" And he stumbled, just as Morax's medical devils reached them both.

Deanna caught him as he fell.

Adriel was standing next to Darian as Deanna and the devils prepared to port the two injured to Morax's university in Hell for treatment. "I've said it once, and I'll say it again: he should have been born an angel." She turned, to go back to the other angels and deliver her report.

"You say that," murmured Exalted Darian, as if to himself, "as though he were not."

…

No force on Earth or in Hell could have prevented Deanna from accompanying Damien down to Hell, for the regeneration pods. Luan and Morax were preparing to follow. "But it is most strange," mused Luan, "I have never heard of anyone overcoming the Madness Flame with, with any sort of power, not once it gets its hold on one's soul." She noticed Morax's expression, "Have you, Bradley?" In all of Hell, and far beyond, she was the only entity who ever addressed him by his mortal name. "Some sort of power, perhaps?"

"He used no power, my love. Only three words. My senses were attuned to what was transpiring, and so I know. Three ordinary words, no magic."

"What were they? I must know!"

Morax looked out at the burned city. The fire was gone, but there would be much rebuilding to be done. Already, Lord Damien had summoned legions of devils to assist the mortals in rebuilding. "Three words. I myself could scarcely believe they worked. But they did.

"He said, 'I forgive you.'"

….

Aftermath, Part I

The rebuilding of Paris was a confusing time for everyone. Many people, many, many people swore they saw devils, actual devils, working alongside the regular reconstruction crews, and, in some cases, being the reconstruction crews. Of course, no one believed them. Everyone knows there's no such things as devils.

Marinette and Ayla (often accompanied by Chloe and Sabrina) had taken it upon themselves to check in on Deanna, back at the apartment she'd shared with Damien. She was seldom there. Once the fires were out and the all-clear was sounded, Kagami and Tomoe Tsurugi had moved back into their townhouse. Kagami seemed a bit disappointed that she'd been unable to lend a hand in the crisis, but Ladybug had explained that there really hadn't been much for any of the Earth super heroes to do. "I felt like a slacker," she told her. "At least you had a good excuse."

"Mmm," murmured Kagami, clearly unconvinced. Or perhaps she just had something on her mind.

After they'd left, Lord Morax accosted Ladybug-and Cat Noir. Ladybug was still a bit uneasy around her partner, knowing what she now knew about him. This will take some adjustment, she sighed, to herself. She was trying to figure out when the right time would be for her to tell him her secret ID. She knew she'd have to, sooner or later.

And now that Hawk Moth / Monarch was gone… "Yes, sir?"

"I couldn't help but overhear what you said, a moment ago. And, you should know you were more help than you realized. The people of Paris saw you on the job, as it were, and were encouraged by that. Whether or not you actually did anything was of secondary importance. You gave them hope. If it hadn't been for that, there could easily have been mass panic, stampedes in the streets, riots, even. People could have been seriously hurt or even killed. But they weren't. Because they had faith in you. In you. That you would resolve the issue. That you would save the day," He emphasized, pointedly. "It would have been very difficult for them to have had anything like the same degree of faith in demons and devils.

"So your role, while you might not have realized it, was actually the most important one of all. Remember the last thing to leave Pandora's box, in the fable."

"Your words are wise, Honored One," she replied, softly. I just wish I could believe them. "Hm. Pandora's Box, huh?" She remembered Better telling them that Damien had given fire to a starving, freezing humanity. "Tell me, sir," she half-turned to him, "Was there any truth to that old legend? I mean, was there really a box, or, or container of some sort, containing all the ills of the world, and one person let them all out, with the last thing being hope?"

The Demon Lord, himself a creature out of Legend, looked at her curiously. "It might have been. Or it might yet be. What do you think?"

….

"When Gods Cry War Amidst the Thunder"

Crosstime: "Daddy! Wait!" The girl, who appeared to be in her early teens, was pulling on the man she called "daddy," trying to resist his gentle but firm grip on her wrist. "What's wrong? I mean, everything'll be glorious now, with everybody getting their very own wish come true! Don't you want to stay and see?"

"No, I don't," said the man she addressed as "Daddy." He was a large, powerfully built man, with a short-cropped beard, brown, streaked with gray. He didn't let go of her arm; if anything, his grip tightened.

"Daddy, you're scaring me!"

I just wish you'd been scared earlier, he thought. But then he sighed. It was already too late for recriminations. They reached a turn in the underground passageway he'd hauled her into immediately upon the revelation of what she'd done. He placed his hand on a flat crystal plate inset into the side of the tunnel. Only after it glowed and a massive portal to yet another passageway beyond opened up did he breathe a sigh of relief.

Perhaps…just perhaps, we can get away.

Perhaps my sins won't find me out. Today, at least.

But if they do…please, God, if You're out there, if You really exist, please don't let them find my daughter.

What sounded like thunder echoed from the upper levels, the levels they'd just come from. The Princess looked up; there'd been no mention of rain in the forecast today.

And it hadn't exactly sounded like thunder, now that she thought about it.

He dragged her into the new tunnel thus displayed, and waited while the titan door closed again, the locks clicking into place, with a sound both of size and precision; those doors could not now be opened, by any force he could imagine. No going back now, but then, there never really had been, anyway. He turned to her. "Daughter, I've done you a grave disservice. I've kept you hidden away, secluded away, from humanity. And, in so doing, I may have destroyed that very same humanity. May God have mercy on both our souls."

"But, but I don't under-*"

He went over to a hidden compartment and fished out a leather harness which he quickly secured around her. It had, she noted, some stout leather straps attached, which he connected to some undergarment beneath his royal finery. The whole thing was loose enough to be comfortable, but it essentially harnessed them both together. Then he took out a medium sized box with what looked like a numerical keypad on the lock. "I've always dreaded this day would come."

"A day when everyone could be happy? When everyone could have anything they desired?"

He stopped and listened for a moment, motioning her to shush while he did. She stopped, suddenly more afraid than she'd ever been…because her royal father's expression was one of fear…

On a primal level, one she'd never experienced before, she knew what it was: he was listening for the bogeyman.

Odd. There was that sound of thunder again. But they were deep underground by now, behind solid doors that looked capable of resisting even an atomic blast with little effort.

Was it really thunder?

He snapped back to the here and now. "And now, because I failed as a parent, and you, in your perfect innocence…between the two of us, we may well have destroyed…everything."

"Over a wish?"

"No. Not over a wish. Over tens of thousands, times billions upon billions of wishes. Daughter, I know you meant no harm. I know you only intended to make everybody's lives better. But you couldn't know. You've never been exposed to the dark heart that's in every human soul." Here he rolled up his sleeves, something she'd never, in all her life, seen him do…

She gasped. Curving in horrifyingly graceful patterns, his forearm was a mass of whitish scars. "Horrifyingly" because the scars did not look to be accidental. "I do know. I have been exposed to it." He quickly smoothed down his sleeve again, rapidly, it seemed to her. As though doing his best to leave the yesterday those scars represented to him far behind.

He checked the connections between them again. They seemed to satisfy him. "There. Good and solid. Now. We've a ways to go yet, so if you get tired, tell me, and I can tie you to me, on my back. These tunnels should lead to safety, but we can't take anything to chance."

"But, but-*"

He took the combination box and turned to her. Clasped her hands in his. "Daughter. Listen to me. For the most part, you were right. Okay? I understand. I felt the same way once. Everybody gets his or her wish, what's the harm, right? Even if it's something that's…not very nice, it's only one wish. Then it's gone. Isn't that sort of the way you thought about it?

"But what about those who wished for more than one wish?

"What about those who wished for an infinite number of wishes?"

She looked up at him, thunderstruck.

"And maybe you were right about the majority of them. Maybe they would fall to good, kind, innocent people, who'd not want to bring harm to anyone. People like you.

"But there are those who aren't like you, daughter. There are those who take a thrill in harming others, in the pain they can inflict upon others." He glanced at his now-covered arm. "I should know.

"And so I have to give you this." He released her, and placed the box on a small table nearby, clicking it open. Opened it up.

She gasped again when she saw, there in the semigloom of the tunnel, that the box contained two small but lethal looking handguns, both gleaming silver in the subdued light. "W-what-?"

He took out the smallest one, a revolver, and checked it, flicking the cylinder open and snapping it shut. Yep. Loaded, just like he remembered when he'd placed them here, all so long ago. "Here, daughter. This one's yours."

She recoiled. "No! I, I couldn't…I couldn't shoot somebody, no, no matter how bad they were!"

There was a brief pause, as he overcame his last personal mental hurdle. The worst had already happened; all this was just the aftermath. "Hope…daughter…this gun…

"...it's not meant for somebody else." He reached out and wrapped her nerveless fingers around the firearm, gently covering them with his own. "It's meant for you."

To her suddenly pale face: "Like I said, you've never been exposed to the worst elements of humanity. Can you imagine how many scumbags, how many ambulatory foulnesses, there are who'd wish for their own genuine princess to, to use as a personal sex slave? To defile in ever more creative, ever more painful, ever more degrading ways, as the centuries, the eons, passed? I think death would keep you from that awful fate, but there's no way of knowing.

"In any case, it's all I've got for you now.

"Now, let's go." He hoisted a specially-prepared backpack that had been hanging on the wall. "If I crafted well, all those years ago, these tunnels will lead us to a place of safety…if, indeed, that word has any meaning anymore."

The thunder, if it was thunder, sounded very loud outside.

If it was outside.

…..

More to come…