Author's note: I've forgot to mention this when this story was first posted, so I guess I'm doing it now. This story is meant to have a bit of a slow start as I introduce you to the characters, their thoughts, feelings and their personalities. I want you to get comfortable and all snuggled in... before I begin to bring out the torture equipment and brutally pull them apart for your entertainment. I know what you want from me, and I will give it to you. But all I ask is for some patience. After all, you can't make a creme brûlée in ten minutes and while you certainly need a blowtorch... you can't begin by setting your ingredients on fire.

Author's note 2: 03:42, 09/07/24: I had the idea for the third section of this prologue roughly a week and a half prior to the time of writing. Of course I was well into my third chapter of the story and suddenly thought, "Wait a minute... the Miraculous of the rabbit is a thing that exists. What's stopping Bunnyx from simply popping up and telling the eggheads at NASA to move their space shuttle ten meters to the left and effectively ending the story before it began?" This is why I hate time travel and you should too. Either it invalidates the entire story because the people who can time travel will simply use it and tell the big bad, "nuh-uh". Or it makes itself a useless insertion, due to the people who have that power actively choosing not to use it. Its a story trope that has vastly more downsides than upsides. However, due to the fact that it is a canon part of the universe and that there is someone who is actively hopping about through time... I, as a fanfiction author, now have the responsibility to write around the fact that she exists. So I've done my best to come up with a way to keep her busy. It's just one more perspective that I now have to write. but luckily it's basically just fluff you can skip if you want.

Prologue

Location: America.

Date and Time: 15 years prior to current

Dawn broke slowly over the coastline of the Floridian peninsula of the United States of America. It was the 2nd of August, the sky was clear, the wind was minimal. As the minutes passed slowly, many workman and government scientists working for NASA were getting through the last few safety checks and clearances for this morning's launch. By 0700 everything was green-lit. By 0730 the public and the press were allowed to enter the outer perimeter and take their places to enjoy the historic occasion. By 0800 the governor of the state of Florida, the speaker for the house and even the vice president came and gave speeches for the occasion. The president couldn't be in attendance, this was an unfortunate but understandable circumstance. A visit by the prime minister of Japan was to happen just an hour after the launch, there simply wasn't enough time.

At 0830 the launch was set to start. The excitement in the air was palpable. This was a new step into the future. Humanity was going to send their first AI pilot into the far reaches of the solar system. The dangers of space travel were still far too numerous for humans to go beyond the moon for any length of time. But with this new technology humanity didn't have to.

"T-minus ten seconds to launch." The voice over the intercom called just as the final countdown began. The people in attendance grew silent as the final seconds were called out. This being an official launch by NASA, the standard NATO alphabetical pronunciations were observed in full.

The blast of the rocket boosters was intense. Even from the crowd's seats hundreds of yards away the wind picked up and the jets of flame were as bright as a second sun. The massive space ship rocketed up, gaining altitude and acceleration the longer it went on. In less than a minute the vessel was but a small speck in the sky above. Meanwhile those in the command center were celebrating a good launch. Many were hugging, laughing, and giving one another high fives. The jubilation lasted only a minute or so however as the commander of the operations called for everyone to get back to their posts. The easy part was over. Now everything was about to get more difficult.

"Sir, the rocket has left the earth's atmosphere and will soon reach high orbit." He nodded and checked his console for anything outside of the normal parameters. Nothing. Everything was green. Another successful launch.

"Good, you know what to do people. So get it done. I expect this bird to separate stages and to begin the journey towards Luna's orbit by 1300." Everything was green on the sensors. Stage separation was a success, and all was looking good. Following earth's orbit to line up for a jump towards Luna was all green. The hours passed in routine monotony. However around 1130 the commander had begun to develop a knot in his stomach. He was a man of intellect but he also followed his intuition. Something felt off. He double checked, no, triple checked the instruments. Everything was nominal. Nothing came up on the sensors. He asked others to run checks and those even came back green.

"Sir... is everything alright? You look like your gut's telling you that something's up." He frowned as he glanced up to see his second extending a mug of coffee in his direction. He sighed and took the mug with a nod of gratitude.

"That's exactly what's happening. But every single system, sensor, camera, and microphone is working as intended. Hell I've even sent word to the pilot and they checked all their systems twice for my sake. Nothing is amiss, everything is textbook... better than textbook. But still my gut is twisted into knots. Something is wrong but I just can't put a finger on what." His second smiled reassuringly and gently tapped his own mug against the commander's.

"We'll figure it out. There's no better crew, and no better commander. But there's no use worrying. All it will do is age you." He smiled slyly as he turned to walk away. The commander was going to throw a remark their way but the twisting in his gut became a hard wrench.

"Sir! We've taken severe damage to the engine! The ship is beginning to spin out of control!" He looked at the sensors once more and yet again nothing! No radar signature, nothing on cameras, nothing! He was about to call out his orders when all the sensors, readouts, and displays suddenly went dark.

"Sir... we lost the ship... ground based scans sense nothing but our own deb- wait something has been picked up... no... this can't be right... the readings indicate that we hit a small comet?! Why didn't it show up on the scans?! Sir according to the calculations the ship ran straight into the flight path of a comet roughly the size and shape of a coffin. Even though it was small our scanners should have picked it up. And to make it worse it only now showed up on the sensors after the collision." The commander sighed as he covered his face with both hands and rubbed. Of course!

"Sir." He slowly looked up at the console and saw the small avatar of the AI pilot. They looked sheepish.

"Yes Alaina?" The AI's avatar looked like it took a steadying breath before it spoke. The people who programmed her- it... programmed it were good at making it act human.

"I'm sorry. I checked everything multiple times when you asked... and yet I still failed to see the obstruction." He sighed again and leaned back in his chair. It wouldn't do for the AI to get a complex from guilt. So he smiled softly and shook his head.

"No... we all failed to see it. I just want to know what that thing was made of. If none of us could see it until after whatever was blocking our sensors and cameras was destroyed... then do you think it was some kind of radioactive element? Something that emitted a spectrum of EMP that we haven't encountered before? Or fuck it, let's go crazy. Was it aliens that sent a deep space stealth probe attached to a rock?" That last comment got a few people in the room to chuckle breaking the tension. It even managed to get the AI to smile.

"EMP and radioactive isotopes are both unlikely due to the ground based systems also being affected just as much as the ones on the ship. Alien stealth tech inconclusive. Possible but highly improbable. I went ahead and searched the web for any mention of such a comet matching the description, time of year, and all possible orbit cycles. I only came up with one tentative link. According to an ancient account of early astronomers, a comet was said to cross the sky every 35 years. It was called many names in different regions, but the one I found that was most fitting is the Star of Calamity. According to myth that spawned the name, seven angels caused a great calamity upon earth. For their crimes against God and the kingdom of man, they were cast out from heaven and imprisoned within a comet to travel the empty void of night for all eternity. Those angels were said to return to the heavens every thirty five years to see if they've earned their repentance." The commander smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"You're studying ancient myth now? I thought you were a scientifically minded AI." The avatar on the screen frowned and rubbed the back of their head in apparent embarrassment.

"According to my observations... humans, even scientists, enjoy a bit of mysticism every now and again. They find raw data and analysis far too dry for most conversations. Especially now that the current predicament has occurred, a bit of levity goes a long way to battle stress. Hence your own comment about aliens. But that leads me back to the issue at hand. Why didn't we see it? The only problem with the link that I mentioned is sightings of the comet had all but stopped. The start of this downward trend originated in the late sixties and only increased parabolically since then. Some observatories across the globe still report its coming and going but fewer and fewer every year. I was trying to figure out why when I had an epiphany. Most of all the telescopes used since then have been altered or purpose built to record their findings using computerized systems. As the number of these systems increased, the number of sightings have decreased on a nearly one-to-one ratio." The commander frowned. This wasn't what he was expecting to hear.

"So computer systems can't pick up this comet? But what, the naked human eye can? Why?" The AI Alaina furrowed the brow of its avatar and made a loud sigh. They were once again searching the web. Finally the AI blinked and frowned.

"You... you're going to hate this explanation commander." He sighed and braced himself. With a wave of his hand for the AI to continue it stated one simple word that made everyone in the room groan.

"Magic."

Location: England.

Date and Time: 15 years prior to current

The debris of the small comet was shattered and thrown across the planet. All but a single piece was too small and fragmented to make it through the atmosphere. The piece that did make it however, was disregarded by practically everyone. This was because it was going to land safely miles off the southern coast of England. There were no ships passing through at that time, no off shore installations that could have been hit. And the estimated yield of damage was so small and the water so deep that the threat to the ecosystem was of no concern. And so in the early evening the piece of space rock hurtled its way down from outer space and landed with a mighty crash into the ocean.

There was only one man who noticed the falling star. One man who looked upon it and made a wish. The man in question was in his early forties and currently enduring his vacation away from his work. His name was Nathaniel Erikson, an anthropological professor and researcher. If one was to describe him they would call him bookish, well learned, hopeless when it came to women, and worst of all... a workaholic. He hadn't taken any time for himself since he began his career with the university, and that was over a decade ago... or was it over two now? He had honestly lost track. So when he finally decided to make the university's employment affairs office and lawyers happy by taking a short week of vacation... they practically threatened him with an early retirement if he didn't take at least a full year's sabbatical. Now stuck with twelve full months of paid leave to do practically anything, he didn't know what to do with himself.

He never went anywhere, he was always frugal with his money and lived well below his means, he cooked all his own meals, and had quite the savings built up. So it wasn't like he didn't have the funds to splurge on an adventurous vacation. But he simply had no drive to do so. He was a professor and researcher of anthropology. Every few months he was shipping off to foreign parts of the world and corresponding with colleagues doing the same. What on earth could he do now that he had a whole year to himself? Most of his friends had families or were his earlier mentioned colleagues. So he couldn't, in good conscious, whisk them away for an extended period of frivolity.

If he had been married he would have taken the wife to all sorts of places; romantic, silly, breathtaking or even rowdy places. But he wasn't married, and he was too old to start dating. He could go bar hopping and look for a another ship drifting the night. One who too was looking for a companion in a safe harbor for a night or two. But... that kind of thing was for men in their youth, or those with more confidence in speaking to the fairer sex. Frankly, he wasn't ever the sort to try one night stands anyway, so why suddenly start now?

There was one thing however that he had always wanted but had always put off... it was to be a father. He had grown up in a large family and though nowadays he was always alone by choice... there were times when his house felt vacant... empty. Maybe, he thought as he leaned back in his armchair. Maybe he should foster a child during his vacation? Or maybe even adopt? But what about when the year comes to an end? Could he dedicate the time to a child when he had to get back to work? He was getting older though and he noticed he couldn't spend as much time burning the midnight oil as he used to. Perhaps it was time to take it easier. Leave the grueling travel and research to those who were younger and hungrier for recognition. The more he thought about it the more he could feel a small smile creep upon his lips. What would it be like? He could picture it waking up in the morning, making breakfast for not just himself anymore, taking the child to school and then coming home to them waiting for him to make dinner. He smiled all the wider as he imagined the milestones. Their first high-school crush, sneaking behind his back to see them, getting caught, graduating from high school, going off to college... Him sitting in the front row at their wedding. Tears threatened to build up in his eyes at that thought. It was settled then. He decided that the first thing he would do on his forced vacation was to rent a beach house for two weeks. This would be long enough for him to relax, recharge and ready himself to take the step he never thought he would take.

So he packed his bags, rented a house on the coast and settled in to have a relaxing vacation... and he hated every moment he was away from home. The layout of the house was different, the building creaked in ways that he was not used to, the sounds of the ocean kept him up at night, and there was nothing for him to do! No papers to grade, no students to teach, no correspondence from his fellow researchers... it was driving him mad. He was like some drug addicted wretch who was going through withdrawal. He simply didn't know how to sit down and turn off his drive to work. So finally on the seventh night he walked out onto the moonlit beach and sat in the sand. The lapping of the waves, the twinkling of the stars, the fullness of the moon... it was all mesmerizing. Slowly by slowly he actually felt himself start to relax. And that's when he saw it. The star that was growing brighter and brighter in the sky. It was a meteorite that was going to fly overhead and crash into the ocean. So as he watched it fall he did something childish, and superstitious. Something that somehow just felt right. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath... and with all his might he wished upon the falling star.

And the falling star took notice.

Location: The Burrow

Date and Time: indeterminate

The mysterious figure drummed his fingers upon the kaleidoscopic wall as he waited. The many circular portals shone with images of many times and places as it lit up the spherical room like the inside of a disco ball. His patience wasn't wasted as eventually one of the portals shone as a blue clad woman with incredibly red hair leapt through. This was what he was waiting for, the keeper of the time Miraculous. His face formed a cocky smile as he stood from his reclined lean against the wall and with a swift tug on his chin, popped his neck.

"Ello, poppet. It's 'bout time dat you showed up. I was beginning to fink you weren't. But now dat you 'ave, welcome back!" His ridiculously cartoonish and thick British accent cut through the silence like a sharp knife through a London pedestrian. The moment he began to speak her spine went rigid and she spun around, her eyes wide and her nerves on edge. No one should have been able to access the burrow without her express permission, and yet... here he was. His posture was casual and nonchalant as he stretched and popped many of his joints. It was clear that he had been waiting for her to return, all while maintaining the same posture, for quite a long while.

"Who are you?! How'd you get in here?! What do you want?!" Her voice was sharp as she looked around trying to find out if he was alone or if he had friends waiting for her as well. He smiled and half walked half skipped his way towards her with his hands in his suit pockets. He was well dressed for an intruder. Black, polished, leather Oxford shoes; a black and scarlet, double breasted, suit jacket and slacks; complete with a matching pork pie hat. The most striking feature however was the pure, white, alabaster mask that covered his face. It was carved into the shape of a spider, the legs forming the eye holes as the fanged mouth rested against his forehead.

"Now, now. Don't be like that. I ain't 'ere ta 'urt cha, I'm just 'ere ta... stop you from gettin in da way. I don't even want ta fight. It's too much 'assle, innit? Just let me work my magic and I'll be on my way." His words however seemed to fall on deaf ears as she snarled and dropped into a combat stance as he approached the center of the room. With a sigh he lowered his head and shook it with clear exasperation.

"Dis is why I can't stand heroes. Dey are always too damn serious all da bloody time. Fine. Ya want it the 'ard way? We can do it da 'ard way." He closed his eyes and snapped his fingers. His mouth forming the words of the incantation that summoned the power of the mask. Instantly it became a pitch black spider, a red hourglass marking forming upon the abdomen which rested on the bridge of his nose, the legs seemed to come alive and encircle his face all the more as it's beady red eyes glowed with an inner power. His formal attire vanished into a sleek, iridescent black, super suit that was covered in hard chitinous plates. The red hourglass motif was repeated on his chest and the palms of his hands. His fingers were tipped with long claws that had syringe like holes in the tips, from which fine, silken threads slowly spun their way out.

"Like I said, I don't wanna 'ave to 'urt you. You're not my enemy, yer merely someone who's in a position ta be in da way. And I can't let anyone do dat. Dis is yer last chance, stand down now. Please." Though his voice had the hard edge of adrenaline flowing in the expectation for inevitable clash of combat... his tone was sincere. But he was not someone she could trust. He was somehow within her burrow, he told her that he wanted her to stay out of his way, and despite his words of wanting to avoid fighting he squared up with her without hesitation. But, true to his word, he didn't make the first move. He circled like any good fighter should, he kept his eyes locked to her and filtered out any possible distractions. If this fight was to actually happen however... he made sure that the ball was in her court.

The two clashed in a furious battle. She was fast, flexible, and an experienced fighter from her years of being the keeper of the time Miraculous. He, however, was just as fast, keeping up with each blow with a block and a parry of his own. He was also, somehow, even more flexible. As if his body wasn't constrained by the limits of human physiology. Limbs bent, joints twisted, and his spine rotated in ways that seemed unnatural. Though he wasn't nearly as experienced in fighting as she was, he made up for it in ferocity and strength. Each blow she blocked felt as if she was stopping a speeding car bare handed, every grab and throw felt as if it was being done by the robotic arms used in industrial manufacturing. Worst of all, those threads that he whipped through the air were as sharp as steel wires that cut like razor blades. Many small cuts had formed where she couldn't entirely dodge or redirect the deadly webs, the worst of which was a slice that had formed over her left eye and leaked blood into it. The fight must have lasted only two maybe three minutes but it was clear, he was about to defeat her. With one last desperate move she broke off from the struggle and bounded away to gain some distance. She was going to try and use the many portals to gain an edge.

"Burrow!" She called out as she thrust a hand towards the nearest portal. A shining blue sphere of energy zipped through the air and hit one of the many places in time and space, opening the portal so that she may leap through. If she could just make it there in time and contact some other hero, then maybe she could turn this fight around. With all her strength she sprinted headlong towards the shining blue/white gate. However despite her full sprint, he didn't make to follow. It was only then she felt that something was incredibly wrong.

"Weave!" His hands formed a cat's cradle with the threads that flowed from them. Her eyes widened as the portal before her flickered and then winked out of existence. Turning to survey the room she lay witness as each and every one of the portals that lead from the burrow became covered in spider's webbing. The pictures of the times and places beyond growing faint and then entirely winking out before her very eyes. Suddenly this place of liminality became very much isolated. This place where the inexorable forward march of time was exempt, was now encased within a very strict, linear, flow of time. Gone was the feeling of deja vu, gone was the surreal feeling of overlapping past, present and future. Everything just stopped.

"What? H-how? What did you do?!" Her fear and confusion was plain on her face and in her voice as she nearly shrieked her words at him. The man in the spider mask simply sighed as he rolled his shoulders and felt his stomach as it growled at him. He knew he should have eaten before coming, now he was using more energy than he had planned and it could cost him success.

"I'll explain it in terms you can understand, poppet. You wield da rabbit Miraculous, da Miraculous that gives you purview over time itself. You can hop yer way forward and backward through da time stream all you wish. But me? I currently wield something similar but different. I'll skip all da nitty gritty but when utilizing da powers of da spider, it gives me purview... over fate. And what pray tell, is da definition of fate, poppet? Ta put it simply, fate is time but with predetermined outcomes. I cannot hop about like you, but I can come 'ere and dictate what may or may not 'appen. I asked you nicely to stay outta my way. But you decided dat dat wasn't good enough for ya. So instead of just closing off a small section of time from outside interference, now I 'ave ta work ass backwards, and keep you from hopping about, full stop. Don't worry poppet, it'll only be for a year. One, tree 'undred and sixty five day year of liner time. It's not that long... Well, it is when you 'ave to live it day in and day out... But don't worry. I won't leave you to starve or die of boredom. 'Ell I'll even be extra nice, 'ow bout dat. I'll even go so far as ta deliver yer mail for ya. Dat way dear old pop won't 'ave ta worry about 'is darling little daughter." The man chuckled as he stretched his arms over his head and popped his back as he spoke. Clearly he had achieved what he wanted and now had no more intention of fighting. But she wouldn't have it, couldn't accept defeat so easily. She roared as she charged at him in desperation.

In the blink of an eye she was on the ground, her back pressed into the pure white floor of the burrow and he was atop of her. The threads of his left hand were around her wrists, pinning them above her head. His right hand gripped her throat, pinning her to the floor. Unlike before the filaments had the texture of a coarse wool yarn rather than steel wire. Even though her hands were bound and he held her by the throat, she still struggled. Her strong vice like legs tried to encircle him to try and throw him off balance. But he simply released her throat and repositioned his own legs and hand so that he could better arrest her movements. Unfortunately for the both of them that put their bodies into a somewhat compromised and for the lack of a better word... sensual position. Thankfully the adrenaline that was still coursing through the two of them was keeping those kinds of thoughts and impulses at bay. Now that she was sufficiently pinned, for the first time during this whole interaction, he lost his cool. His voice came out in a growl of frustration and, interestingly, gone was the overtly thick British accent that he tinged his speech with. In its stead was still an accent from great Britain, but it wasn't nearly as cartoonish and over the top as the previous one had been.

"I already told you! I'm trying my hardest not to hurt you! For fuck's sake Alix! Stop!" She still struggled against him but her desperation was finally subsiding as it was beginning to be replaced with despair. He knew not only who she was, but who her father was and the fact that they had kept up correspondence even through the vastness of time.

"How do you know so much about me?! Who the hell are you!? Don't you dare go near my father you creep!" The spider themed presumed villain sighed as he looked up at the ceiling as if asking for strength from God or some other entity he may worship. Finally he looked down at her and in a voice tinged with annoyance, frustration, and complete sincerity said.

"Because I'm your fucking husband!"