The first rays of dawn pierced through the shattered windows of an abandoned building on the outskirts of Paris, casting eerie shadows on the debris-strewn floor. The wounded blond-haired boy with the mysterious emerald-green hair streak, laying still and silent on the ground, slowly stirred from an uneasy sleep, his mind still clouded by the events that had unfolded. His thoughts were lost in an eerie white mist of confusion, his memories all but faded away entirely. He had no idea where he was…or how he'd come here…or where he came from…or anything. All he remembered was a faint name flickering in the back of his mind—Morro.
His name was Morro. That much he knew. Or at least, he thought he knew.
As his eyes fluttered open, the room came into sharper focus. He glanced around, the remnants of a dream fading away, replaced by the stark reality of the broken timeline he was trapped in. His heart sank all the way to his toes as he took in the sight of seven trembling kwamis hovering nearby, their tiny forms radiating a faint, weary glow. He wasn't sure how he recognized them or how he could recall their names, but he was too grief-stricken to dwell on that for long.
Morro blinked in shock and dismay, his eyes watering with silent, crystalline tears as he softly exclaimed, "Tikki? Plagg, Nooroo? Duusu, Sass? Azuka, Trixx...? You're all that's left?"
Tikki was unusually downhearted as she nodded solemnly. "Yes, Morro." she sobbed faintly, sniffling as she stammered sorrowfully, "We are the only ones who remain. The others…they've all been lost to the fractured timeline."
Plagg gave a wry grin, as he flew over to Morro, perching contemplatively in his shaggy, silky straw-blond mop of hair as he spoke, "But hey—we're still here, and we'll help you get through this. We've got to keep moving forward, that's what I say."
Morro instinctively knew that Plagg was on the right track, and he nodded vigorously. His face then steeled itself, and he exclaimed in sheer, wild determination, "We will. We have to. If we are the only ones left, then it's up to us to save the world."
Morro pushed himself up, his thoughts racing. The weight of his past actions, the decisions that led him here, pressed heavily on his chest. He knew he couldn't change the past, but he could fight for a better future.
In the shadows, a figure moved silently. Hawk Moth, who had been patrolling the city, was unaware of Morro's existence. He was consumed by his own grief, having lost his son Adrien years ago in a battle that left the boy amnesiac—just a matter of years before Adrien had vanished entirely. The pain of that loss had driven Hawk Moth to desperate measures, leading to the twisted reality he now faced.
Hawk Moth couldn't help but let the tears flow as he turned a corner and slumped wearily against a wall, wailing softly to himself, "Adrien... if only you knew. If only you knew how much I've missed you. How much I need you."
Morro glanced around the room, unaware of Hawk Moth's silent vigil. Despite everything, he harbored a glimmer of hope—a hope that, with the kwamis' aid, he could mend the broken pieces of their world and save the future he knew and loved.
"We'll fix this." he declared firmly, "No matter what happens, we'll find a way to restore the timeline and bring back what we've lost."
Wiping lingering tears out of her tiny black eyes, Tikki replied supportively, "We're with you, Morro. Together, we can set things right. We're all in this together—and together we are strong."
The other kwamis murmured their agreement, and Morro beamed. He might not have remembered exactly where he had come from, but he knew this—as long as the kwamis were there to aid him, he and his friends still had a fighting chance—a chance to make what was wrong right again.
With renewed determination, Morro and the seven kwamis mentally prepared themselves to face the challenges ahead. The journey would be long and perilous, but they were united by a common goal—to restore their world and reclaim their future.
Later that night
As night fell softly over Paris, the luminescent city was bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. Morro, now feeling the weight of his memories and the journey ahead, found a quiet moment to himself, to collect his thoughts and steady his shaky spirits. Sitting quietly on the rooftop of the building he had awoken in, he squinted his eyes and looked out over the city, his thoughts drifting to the past and the dreams he once had—the ones that were buried so deep within that he could never lose them, not even if the world were to end.
"So much has changed..." he couldn't help but murmur, "so much has been lost." He could feel tears—warm, steamy tears—welling up in his eyes again, and he rubbed his eyes vigorously on his sleeve, struggling to stay calm amidst the chaos. A lump was forming in his throat, making it difficult to hold back the emotions swirling through his very being like a whirling tornado of cataclysmic force and strength. He gazed down at his pale, chilled hands, clammy with sweat, and rubbed them together to get them warm, his teeth chattering as he let out a wolfish whimpering moan. Laying down tiredly on the roof's shingles, he gazed up wistfully and wispily at the stars twinkling above him and the full moon's silvery shine streaming down all around him—and let out a long, yearning, imploring sigh.
The world had never been the same since the timeline first broke. Time and space no longer stayed in their destined paths—the layers in the fabric of reality constantly buckled and shifted, morphing into slightly mesmerizing yet fragilely unstable curtain of influence. And Morro, now more than ever, struggled to understand how he fit into it all—how he and the kwamis could restore what had been lost to the broken timeline.
"I remember a time when I had dreams of a brighter future." he whispered, his eyelids drooping as he grew more and more drowsy by the moment. He closed his eyes, feeling the gentle breeze as it carries the distant sounds of the city. The memories of his childhood and the life he once knew came flooding back, mingling with the hopes and dreams he still clung to. His voice grew fainter and sleepier as he murmured sleepily, "In my dreams, I see a world where everything is as it should be... where my family is whole, and the timeline is unbroken."
A single tear rolled down his cheek as he slowly opened his eyes, the city lights reflecting in them like stars. He sucked in a deep yet gentle breath, summoning the courage to face the uncertainties ahead as he added determinedly, "I won't give up on those dreams. No matter how difficult the journey is, I'll fight till my last breath to make them a reality. This world depends on it."
And as he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but feel an inexplicable sense of mixed sadness and hope intertwining within his heart. Within moments, he fell silently into a deep, peaceful slumber—the kwamis hovering softly nearby as he slept and healed and dreamed.
Yet little did he realize the adventure he was about to get himself into. The adventure…and the peril.
For a broken timeline is never something to be reckoned with.