Present

The end of the world hadn't changed Jagged Stone a bit. Everyone else in the make-shift meeting room had shifted to scruffy, unkempt versions of themselves with paler features smattered in grime, sitting a fair distance away from Marinette and Gabriel bearing grim, ponderous faces. But the rock aesthetic already left Jagged a paler fellow wrapped in worn down leather, all the years had done was colour the tips of his spikes with greys and add an extra layer of dust or two.

The only thing that truly felt aged was the sunglasses perched on the edge of his nose, the designer glasses Marinette couldn't believe he was still carrying around all these years later.

Jagged hadn't the slightest hint of the fear or hesitance of his peers, balancing himself on the edge of an old pool table, slumped over and curiously peering across at Gabriel.

Marinette had been offered the privilege of being able to stand up, while Hawkmoth was left bound to his chair. And she was sure that Gabriel found talking to Jagged a worse torture than the rope.

"Off your Rocker. 1995." Jagged challenged, his eyes narrowed to a focused point.

Gabriel tilted his head back, already sighing. "What about it?"

Jagged shrugged, "Tell me something about it."

Gabriel let out an exasperated sigh, his patience thinning by the second as Jagged Stone leaned back on the pool table, rocking it precariously.

The meeting room was dim, lit mostly by scattered lanterns and the dull flicker of a dying bulb overhead. Marinette stood to the side, arms crossed, watching the exchange with a mix of amusement and exasperation. She had seen Gabriel lose his temper before, but the way Jagged casually dismissed everything seemed to grind at the older man's very soul.

"It was one of your earliest gigs," Gabriel began through clenched teeth, locking eyes with Jagged. "A private concert in some drab, morbid catacombs. Your band was my first commission as an official tailor."

Jagged's grin widened. "Yeah? Sounds like a banger, mate. Keep goin'."

Gabriel's scowl deepened. "And during one of your drunken stunts, you set my hair on fire."

Jagged's eyes lit up, and he let out a hearty chuckle. "Oh, did I really? Cracking!" His enthusiasm was genuine, like Gabriel had just shared a fond memory between old friends.

"You don't remember!?" Gabriel snapped, incredulous.

"Not a clue, mate," Jagged shrugged, idly reaching for a billiard ball and busying his hands fiddling with it. "I was conked out that night. Heck of a blowout though, right?"

Gabriel's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "The point of these questions," he growled, "is that you know the right answer, you imbecile!"

Jagged just laughed harder, looking over at Bustier, who sat quietly in the corner. "He's as grumpy as the real deal, alright!"

It did Marinette's heart good to see her old teacher, and mayor, again. Even better to learn that Bustier's family were safe and sound, living out of Roth's spotlight somewhere warm and out of the way. No one really had much chance to chat with Bustier after she became the mayor, remaking the entire city from the ground up for her eco-friendly dreams tended to take up a lot of her time, especially considering how much blow back and complications her campaign faced.

Marinette thought that she could partially relate to Bustier here. After all, this all went down under Bustier's watch, as a consequence of Ladybug's failure. The mantle of responsibility was a hefty burden, and mostly for how easy a target it made you for blame.

Bustier, her face as calm as always despite the tension in the room, shook her head gently. "Jagged, be serious."

"I am serious," Jagged responded, his expression growing comically solemn for a brief second. "Seriously jazzed, Love."

Alec, who had been watching from the far side of the room with a look of distaste, finally spoke up. Marinette wouldn't say he looked good, especially without the wig he'd lovingly adorned in the wake of the Wishmaster affair, but he looked comfortable. He looked better than when he was under Roth's camera, forcing on a smile while powerless to do anything but watch and cheer for the fall of Roth's victims.

Still, he gestured between Gabriel and Marinette as if they were infected with some strange disease. "So, if what you say is true, you two really…" He paused for dramatic effect. "Died. And came back."

"Metal as hell, by the way," Jagged interjected with a smirk.

Marinette took a step forward, her expression earnest. "We still don't quite understand it either," she admitted, glancing briefly at Gabriel, who remained as tight-lipped as ever. "But what matters is that we're here, and we're ready to help."

Damocles fed his fingers through his thick beard, desperately scraping it for some modicum of comfort. "Do you really think this prisoner could help us put the world back together?" His voice carried a note of hope, hope that he was afraid to let show.

Marinette nodded firmly. "It's the only lead we have."

Jagged tossed his ball up in the air and caught it lazily. "What's special about this prison dude again?" he asked, clearly having missed the earlier explanation.

Alec rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Have you been paying attention at all?"

"I was," Jagged said with a wink. "'Course, I started nodding off when you guys were talking about the magic butterfly man."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed as he glanced between Marinette and the assembled group. His frustration was palpable, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "Why is he here?" he asked, clearly referencing Jagged.

Jagged grinned broadly, giving Gabriel a two-finger salute. "'Cus without me, it'd all be dark and dreary round here. I keep things light, y'know?"

Marinette couldn't help but crack a small smile, despite the weight of the situation. Jagged's carefree attitude was frustrating, sure, but it also reminded her of a time when life wasn't as bleak, when the world wasn't falling apart around them.

Gabriel, on the other hand, wasn't as amused. "We don't need light, Stone. We need solutions."

Jagged gave a dismissive wave. "Oh, relax, Hawky. We'll figure it out. That's what we do, right? We're survivors."

Marinette couldn't suppress a giggle at how Gabriel's lips tightened into a thin line, holding back an odious sneer at hearing Jagged snag the nickname. He knew enough about trying to argue with Jagged stone to know that voicing his distain was only going to give him a migraine, so he forced himself to seethe in silence

"There's a lot we need to think about." came a voice from the corner.

It was easy to forget that the 'Honourable' judge Bertrum was in the room with them, mostly because looking at him made the bruises around Marinette's neck burn. She was charitable for the most part, she understood not trusting her, or thinking she could be a threat; but Gabriel had a point, that man was a bit too eager to hang them from the gallows. The level of eagerness that made you think the man had been waiting his whole life to execute somebody.

Marinette glanced at Gabriel, and by the slight narrowing of his eyes, she knew he was thinking the same thing. They had a lot to prove, but Bertrum wasn't someone they could easily win over. She didn't want to use that to dismiss him or his concerns, but she couldn't help that it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"What's there to think about?" He asked, with his usual boisterous energy. He swung his arm wide, tossing a billiard ball at the adjacent wall, where it smashed into a poster of Bob Roth's smug face, leaving a satisfying crack. "They're givin' us a chance to pop that fat prick on the nose, I say we go for it."

Marinette's lips twitched into a smile despite the tension, but Alec wasn't amused. He huffed, crossing his arms and glaring at Jagged with the same measured look he'd given him earlier—a clear sign they'd had this argument multiple times. "We can't just go around recklessly aggravating Roth based on the word of some random ghost who may not."

Jageed rolled his eyes, turning his gaze back to Marinette to wink at her, shooting a thumbs up gesture her way. "Hey, I've been pissing him off the entire time and I'm doing great."

It was nice. Marinette didn't realize how alone she felt until the relief of Jagged and Juleka being on her side hit her. It was a warm blanket of assurance draped over her shivering heart.

Alec crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair, clearly unbothered. "Oh really?" His voice took on a condescending tone as he pressed, "Say, Jagged, how's your son doing?"

Juleka, who'd been hiding by Damocles' arm, immediately shot to her feet and broke her silence. "Don't you dare bring Luka into this." Her voice was low and dangerous, but the pain in it was evident. Luka's absence still weighed heavily on her.

Bertrum, his cold eyes gleaming, seized on the opening. "Why not?" he said, his voice gruff. "Luka would be doing us a damn sight better if he were still here instead of up in the cocoon because he tried to play one-man-army." His words were sharp, a deliberate jab meant to wound.

Juleka flinched at the mention of Luka's capture, her fists tightening at her sides. Bertrum didn't let up, moving to loom over her, pressing a bony finger against where her miraculous used to lie. "I know you agree with me, Juleka." His voice was firm. "If you hadn't given up your miraculous, you'd be in the same place as Luka."

Jagged's jaw clenched. He wasn't the type to explode with anger, but the quiet, simmering fury beneath his calm words was unmistakable. "My boy's a god damn rockstar," Jagged said, his voice even, but his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the table. "He went out there to do what needed to be done. He didn't wait around for someone to tell him he could do it or gift wrap a win for him, 'cus my boy doesn't need an excuse to do the right thing. He has guts."

Alec couldn't help but look away, his rebuttal quiet and without the bitter edge he wielded before. "Those guts got him captured."

Jagged's eyes narrowed, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone. "He got captured because none of you backed him up."

The room fell silent. The accusation hung in the air, thick and heavy. Too damn heavy for the rocker with only chill.

Gabriel made a sharp, hesitant inhale. "I'd hate to support the stoned party, but what exactly is your alternative here?" He kept his face stone cold, his only wall against all the angry scowls that turned on him the moment he reminded them of his presence. "Because it sounds to me like your plan is to just sit back, keep your head down and do nothing."

Alec's response was immediate, carried by a bitter laugh. "It might come as a shock to you, Hawkmoth, but we have people we want to protect."

Bustier nodded, "We're not going to risk our families for a war we can't win."

"The world isn't going to be fixed by everyone hiding in their holes." Gabriel snapped, his teeth bared and eyes glistening, as if he'd just finished repeating the same point over a hundred times to the ignorant masses. "You think it stops here? You think you can just avoid the apocalypse the rest of your lives?"

"Take it from scum like me." Gabriel clicked his tongue, Hawkmoth coming alive in his bitter grin, wearing an almost an element of pride at his 'accomplishments' as a villain. If Gabriel and Hawkmoth came together on anything, it was the desire to explain why everyone else is dumber. "Mad Moth is coming for us all inevitably. Bending over isn't going to protect your families, it's just going to guarantee their damnation."

"I wouldn't expect scum like you to understand what's at stake." Bertrum scoffed, "Have you ever cared about anyone other than yourself?"

Gabriel's lips curled in a rigid frown, a fresh smatter of appeals and excuses, of pleas to the woman he started this mad quest for, and the woman, and son, he ended it for. But he could not voice them, not convincingly, not when he knew how intoxicating the power and obsession he wielded had become.

Still, nothing Bertrum said, no matter how true it rang, addressed Gabriel's point, so he maintained his sneer. "You know, I'd admire how frequently you're able to flap your gums if anything remotely worth wild ever came out."

There was a metallic scraping noise as Bertrum snatched something off the table, pouncing on Gabriel with a mad glint in his eye. He drove his knee into Gabriel's stomach, holding a blade up to the throat, hovering over a bulging vein. "Give me a reason, Hawkmoth. I'm begging you."

Gabriel's expression remained an unreadable, a stone-cold stare that completely ignored the weapon and locked onto Bertrum. Bertrum's eyes were wide and pleading, hungry for any sort of reaction from the villain before him.

However, all he received was a sigh, before Gabriel leaned forward, turning his head to the side and purposely running his flesh along the knife's edge. Blood was drawn, and Gabriel didn't dare blink.

"If you're going to threaten me, you might as well cut me a little." He murmured.

"Go on then." He continued, moving his head around like there wasn't a fresh, bleeding cut in his neck. All that mattered to him was egging Bert on. "Or does a man beaten and bound to a chair make you more nervous than an innocent girl hanging from a rope?"

Bertrum's hand trembled as he stared into Gabriel's unblinking eyes, the blade trembling against the villain's throat. The room was silent, save for the faint drip of blood sliding down Gabriel's neck. Everyone was frozen, waiting, unsure if Bertrum would snap or if Gabriel's mocking taunts would push him over the edge.

But Gabriel didn't flinch. His calmness, his utter lack of fear, only fed Bertrum's frustration. "What are you waiting for?" Gabriel's voice was almost a whisper, daring and taunting. "Go ahead. Prove how easy it is. You're already justified."

Hesitation gripped Bertrum's fingers, enough for Hawkmoth to peer through Gabriel's sneer. "That was the interesting part of being Hawkmoth, you know – How easy it was."

His eyes passed over everyone in the room, bleak, hollow eyes staring right through them, only seeing the akuma underneath. "You'd like to think I controlled my victims, that I had to drag them kicking and screaming into terrorizing Paris."

It was odd to talk about. The akuma's tended to forget their experience, they never explored the connection he made with them, but he remembered everything. Every word, every sensation, every blow that echo'd in his mind to this day.

"In the beginning, I thought I had to be careful about who I chose, to find people who would be… Willing, but not ambitious." Laughter ripped through him, but there was no humour, no pleasure, just air escaping. "But I didn't. No, no, no, the only time I had to tighten the reins was to stop you all from going a step further."

Alec scoffed, "What, you're saying we asked for it?"

"No, some of you begged for it."

He could feel the beating of their hearts, he was so painfully aware of what laid under the surface, what was past the sane, put together façade. They knew what he saw when he looked at them. He saw Dark Owl willing to sign his morals away just for a chance to feel like a super hero, he saw Guitar Villain ready to burn the city because some punk insulted his music, he saw Wishmaker forcing his dreams on others because he realized he wasted his life mocking other's dreams, he saw Zombizou enslaving her students because it was easier than addressing the real problem.

"The only person in this room I haven't akumatized is the Bug; I've been in your heads, I've talked to your hearts, and I never needed more than an offer before you jumped at the chance."

It was easy, so very tempting to grasp the power to make everything more convenient. To take a complicated problem with a difficult solution and simplify it.

Why talk things out when you have the ability to force everyone to get along?

Why indulge in a long, arduous campaign to fight for change that might never come when you have the ability to take everything by force?

Why move on from those you have lost when you can just steal some magic jewels to bring them back?

"God, halfway through my career I didn't even need to keep watch anymore. So many of you cried out for me. Do you know how it feels to hear every negative thought around you drumming in the back of your mind? Drowning in a sea of bitter screams and gnashing fury?"

It was a miracle that they were still listening to him ramble. They could just slit his throat and get it over with – and honestly, he'd have preferred that. He hated saying this, he hated reliving those moments where the butterfly miraculous took root in his bones like an ache he could never escape. Just thinking of the first time he opened his heart to the reach of the miraculous, where all that darkness, all that negativity came streaming into him; it was enough to make him nauseous.

It was one thing to be a cynic, to be a grump who saw only the worst in people. Even then, there was always a tiny part of you that dared to hope, to note that it was statically unlikely that everyone was the scum you imagined in your head. Emilie had been the champion of that for Gabriel, always encouraging him to find the bright side, to see past the lens of his dreary life time spent with failures, thugs and cutthroats.

It was entirely different to feel the worst of people, to have such impossible insight into them that all your putrid thoughts were confirmed.

"All your dirty, sadistic little thoughts find their way to me." His eyes came back to Bertrum. He didn't see an akuma that had been, but one that could have been. "You send them to me, begging, praying for me to give you an excuse to act on them – a blank check to take whatever meagre vengeance will satisfy you."

There was relief in finally saying it. All those bitter rants he kept locked away in his head, a poison shared only with his akums and his reflection. It rolled off his tongue so easily the moment he started, no matter how much he knew that he was the most undeserving person to say such things to these people. He quite honestly couldn't control himself. He needed to say it, to free himself of it, and whether it brought him a slit throat or disgust, he would find that relief.

"I never asked you for anything." Bertrum spat.

"Oh, but you did." Hawkmoth taunted, "I remember now. Yes, oh yes, you were so desperate to get my attention. I never responded, but I did listen. Poor, poor, Bertum; divorce can be so painful. Alas, I thought your plans for your ex-wife were a little too crude for my taste."

Bertrum's eyes grew so wide they could have popped out of their sockets. Behind him, everyone traded looks that suggested that, no matter how untrustworthy a source Hawkmoth was, none of them would put it past Bertrum. "He's lying! I… I never wanted to do anything to Edna."

"I'm a monster, I know that. Kill me, beat me, imprison me – it's no less than I deserve." Hawkmoth finished, that empty, exhausted stare of lost man returning. On his lips, there was a final plea, not for forgiveness or mercy, but for them not to join him in his degradation. "But never forget that my schemes would never be as successful without you. Don't make the same mistake and enable Mad Moth as well."

Bertrum's face twisted, his rage bubbling just beneath the surface, but something in Gabriel's words cut deeper than the blade in his hand. His grip faltered for a moment, the knife wavering as his own reflection danced in the sheen of the blade. Gabriel's expression hadn't changed—cold, indifferent, and, worst of all, superior.

"No point in cutting something that's already dead." Bertrum spat through gritted teeth, pulling the knife away but not before letting it nick Gabriel's throat one last time.

"Enough," Damocles' voice was loud, but weak, shaking. He stepped forward, his face a mask of authority, though his own uncertainty bled through the cracks. "We aren't here to tear each other apart. We're here to decide what to do next."

Jagged Stone, who had been silent through the whole confrontation, finally spoke up, his tone lighter, trying to break the tension. "Well, I'm just glad no one lost an eye this time," he muttered, chuckling softly. "And hey, Bertrum, take it easy on the knives, man. Leave the theatrics to the professionals, yeah?"

Bertrum shot him a glare but didn't respond, choosing instead to focus on wiping his shaking hands on his jacket.

Marinette, sensing the need to steer the conversation back on track, took a step forward. "What about the United Heroes?" Her voice was tentative, but there was a sliver of hope. "C-Can't they help us?"

Alec shook his head, his expression grim. "Those akumas aren't just filling the skyline."

Damocles sighed, folding his arms. "They form a dome over Paris. We haven't heard anything good about people who tried to go through."

He continued, his voice heavy. "We don't know what the rest of the world looks like, but if other heroes are still around, they're not getting in. We're on our own."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "It seems we are."

Marinette glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Gabriel turned his cold gaze on her, his words dripping with disdain. "I think it's pretty clear that nothing is going to get done here." He gestured to Damocles. "You might as well send us out, let us go about finding our prisoner on our own."

Alec scoffed, disbelief painted across his face. "That's a joke, right? You think we're going to let you two just walk out of here?"

Marinette's eyes flickered between Alec and Gabriel, a frown forming. "Are we prisoners?"

Damocles shifted uncomfortably. "N-Not prisoners," he stammered. "But we can't exactly risk you two revealing anything to Roth's forces."

"So, prisoners," Gabriel said dryly. "Unless you'd prefer to take us back to the gallows."

Bertrum's eyes gleamed with contempt. "Yeah, prisoners. It's more than you deserve, so at least be grateful."

"That's enough!" Bustier interjected, her voice sharp, cutting through the rising tension in the room.

Damocles raised his hands in a calming gesture, his voice steady. "I hear the concerns about our people's safety loud and clear, and as much as I'd like to help you, Miss Dupain-Cheng, our first priority is keeping our people safe." He glanced at the others before continuing. "However, I don't see the harm in at least having people look into the validity of your prisoner."

Bustier softened her tone, her eyes drifting toward Marinette. "Why don't our guests return to their room while we cool down and go over this new information? None of us are thinking straight."

The suggestion hung in the air, a temporary reprieve. Marinette's gaze shifted to Gabriel, uncertain but not ready to fight. Gabriel, for his part, remained silent, his mind already working, searching for the next angle.

Without another word, they were led out of the meeting room, back to the quarters they had been confined to earlier. The door closed behind them with a heavy thud, the faint sound of the leaders' discussions already fading into the background.

Marinette and Gabriel sat in the dimly lit room, the air between them thick with the weight of everything they'd just endured. The door creaked open, and Juleka slipped inside, her nervousness evident in the way she hesitated just inside the doorway. She looked shaken, her hands wringing together as she fidgeted, unsure whether to speak.

"I… I should have spoken up more back there," Juleka finally said, her voice soft but trembling.

Marinette shook her head gently, offering a small, tired smile. "It's fine, Juleka. I found it hard to speak too."

"I just wanted to-" Juleka opened her mouth as if to say something else, then paused, her eyes darting down to her pocket. Her fingers trembled as she reached into it, pulling out something small but familiar. Her hand trembled as she pressed the object—a snake-themed bracelet—into Marinette's palm. "To give you this."

Marinette gasped, her heart skipping a beat. "Wait, is that…?"

Juleka stumbled over her words, barely able to get them out. "Luka… He chucked it to me before he was taken." Her voice was shaky, her eyes filled with unspoken pain. "He'd have wanted you to have it. It's a… sign of trust."

The realization hit Marinette like a wave. The snake miraculous. Luka had passed it to his sister in a moment of desperation, hoping she could carry on the fight.

Marinette stared at the bracelet in her hand for a long moment before pushing it gently back into Juleka's. She folded Juleka's fingers over the miraculous, shaking her head softly. "Luka wanted you to have Saass."

Juleka shook her head, her eyes wide and filled with doubt. "I'm not worthy of a miraculous. You'd put it to better use than me."

Marinette met her gaze, her voice soft but firm. "I know that's not true. You are worthy, Juleka. Keep it for when you realize that."

Juleka blinked, struggling with the weight of the words. She hesitated, then nodded reluctantly, returning the object to her pocket. With nothing else to say, she gave Marinette a small, grateful smile before slipping back out the door, leaving the two alone once more.

Gabriel, who had been watching the exchange in silence, finally spoke up with a dry edge in his tone. "You know, we really could have used that."

Marinette crossed her arms and gave him a hard look. "It's not ours to take."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "You are literally the guardian."

"One thing Master Fu taught me," Marinette said, her voice even but resolute, "is that we don't really choose who gets a miraculous. We just choose whether or not to accept when fate reveals to us who the miraculous chose."

Gabriel sighed, shaking his head as a smirk tugged at his lips. "I'd hate to bother you with my pessimism again—"

"That's a lie," Marinette interrupted, rolling her eyes.

Gabriel ignored her jab and continued, his tone growing more serious. "You saw how everyone was acting in there. Even if they don't kill us, they're going to look for any excuse to leave us locked up forever. We can't afford to be stuck here. Or worse, turned in."

Marinette frowned, a spark of concern flickering in her eyes. "You really think they'd hand us over to Roth?"

Gabriel's eyes darkened, his voice low and grim. "I think we're surrounded by a lot of desperate people looking for any hope of securing their safety. If I were in their position, I'd definitely start wondering if Ladybug and Hawkmoth were important enough to be a bargaining chip."

Marinette's expression softened, but she didn't look convinced. "I think you don't give them enough credit."

Gabriel's gaze met hers, unflinching. "Now you're the one lying."

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him, but Gabriel pressed on, his voice calm but pointed. "Don't give me that look, Bug. If you didn't think my argument had merit, you would have told them about our portal tech."

Marinette's lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't want to admit it, but Gabriel was right—she had held back. Just in case.

"I still think you're wrong," she said quietly, her voice more measured now, "but there's no harm in being cautious for now."

Gabriel leaned back, crossing his arms and offering a satisfied nod. "At least we agree on something."

For a moment, the tension between them seemed to ease, though the room was still heavy with the weight of their situation. Marinette paced the room, her mind racing. They couldn't stay in this base forever, not if the leaders were starting to doubt them. Gabriel, for all his flaws, was right. They needed to find a way out of this. And quickly.

Next Time - A Matter Of Trust:

Usually, Chloe loved being the center of attention. The spotlight was where she thrived, where her ego could be fed and nurtured. But sitting cross-legged, back-to-back with Nino in the middle of the lair, under the intense stares of everyone around her, this attention didn't feel like admiration. Instead, it was the kind that made her skin crawl, like she was a zoo animal on display. Like she was doing something wrong.

And considering that her and Nino were the only ones who were still struggling with this particular training session, maybe she was. A little

Su-Han towered over her, his scowl sharper than usual. His patience was clearly running thin.

"Chloe," he barked, his voice laced with irritation. "What are you doing?"

Chloe cracked one eye open, snapping back to the present after drifting off. She'd been in the middle of a particularly vivid daydream—something about a hot tub full of honey—and the abrupt shift back to reality wasn't exactly welcome.

"Huh? Oh," Chloe muttered, sitting up straighter and flipping her ponytail over her shoulder with dramatic flair. "I was having a weird dream about a hot tub full of honey—"

Su-Han's lip curled into a snarl, his patience visibly fraying. "Are my training exercises putting you to sleep, Queen Bee?"

Chloe pouted in response, folding her arms. "Why are you glaring at me? I'm napping just like you said."

Luka raised an eyebrow. "Chloe, you're supposed to be meditating."

"Yeah, napping," Chloe retorted, rolling her eyes.

"No—" Adrien sighed, clearly trying to be patient with her, "It's about clearing your mind of all distractions—"

"Which sounds like napping," Chloe replied, completely unbothered.