A/N: The lyrics that Morro sings are adapted from "In My Dreams" from the Broadway musical "Anastasia." If you can find it, I highly recommend listening to it-it's going to come up a LOT in the course of this story.

As night fell over Paris, the deceptively peaceful city was bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. Shadows played along the cobblestone streets, where whispers of the past seemed to linger. Morro, feeling a strange sense of unease, gathered the seven remaining kwamis to talk. The quiet of the night was broken only by the distant sounds of the city—a car horn, the murmur of late-night conversations, and the occasional chirp of a nightingale.

Morro silently turned to the group of tiny creatures, his face glistening with unbidden tears as he stammered in a quivering voice, "Where are your bearers? Why are you all alone?"

Tikki, her tiny form trembling, could not hold back the tears as she sobbed in the softest voice possible, "They're gone... they're all gone, Morro. Every single one of them."

Morro's heart instantly sank all the way to his toes. His eyes welled with even more crystalline tears as he exclaimed in confusion, "Gone? How can they be gone? What happened? Why did they disappear?"

Plagg's normal mischievousness was lost in a somber solemnity as he explained quietly, "When the timeline broke, many of our bearers were lost in the chaos. Now, we seven are all that remains."

Morro struggled to remain calm as he crumpled to his knees, buried his head in his hands, and cried softly to himself, scrunching his hair in his moonstone-pale knuckles as he shook his head in disbelief. "This can't be happening..." he wheezed, struggling to breathe amidst the confusion, chaos, and pain swirling around inside his core like a cataclysmic windstorm. "This just can't be happening! I remember a time when everything was different. When I had dreams of a brighter future. And now it's gone—maybe forever."

Duusu gently placed a reassuring hand on Morro's shoulder, "Morro, it's okay. We're here with you now. We'll find a way to fix this."

Trixx's curiosity sparked, "Morro, where did you come from? How did you end up here?"

Reflecting deeply, Morro murmured, "I remember some things, but not others. My past is fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that don't quite fit together. But my dreams... they're so clear, so vivid. I can't help but wonder... are they real?"

Nooroo chimed in supportively, "Hold onto those dreams, Morro. They can guide us through this darkness."

Sass, with wisdom in his voice, added, "Dreams can be a powerful source of strength. Trust in them, and they will lead you to the truth."

As Morro closed his eyes, the gentle breeze carried the distant sounds of the city. Memories of his childhood and the life he once knew flooded back, mingling with the hopes and dreams he still clung to. He began to sing, his voice soft and reflective, as the sounds of the city faded away, and a hauntingly wondrous melody, old and new at the same time, began to emerge from his chilly, chapped lips.

They said I was found by the side of a road—

There were tracks all around; it had recently snowed.

In the darkness and cold, with the wind in the trees,

A boy with no name, and no memories but these:

Rain against a window, sheets upon a bed,

Terrifying voices whispering overhead,

"Call the child 'Morro'! Give the child a hat!"

I don't know a thing before that.

His voice gained strength as he continued, the kwamis listening intently, their faces reflecting his emotions.

Traveling the back roads, sleeping in the wood,

Taking what I needed, training when I could.

Keeping up my courage, foolish as it seems,

At night all alone in my dreams.

In my dreams, shadows call—

There's a light at the end of a hall.

Then my dreams fade away,

But I know it all will come back

One day.

The city of Paris, illuminated by the moonlight, became a backdrop for his dreams and hopes. The kwamis offered their silent support, understanding the depth of his deepest, darkest, most heartfelt longing and imploring plea for the dreams of his past to come alive.

I dream of a city beyond all compare—

Is it Paris? Paris...

A beautiful river, a bridge by a square,

And I hear a voice whisper,

"I'll meet you right there,

In Paris..."

Paris...

His voice trembled with emotion as he continued, the weight of his journey and the search for his identity pressing on his heart.

You don't know what it's like

Not to know who you are,

To have lived in the shadows

And traveled this far.

I've seen flashes of fire,

Heard the echo of screams!

But I still have this faith

In the truth of my dreams!

In my dreams it's all real,

And my heart has so much to reveal!

And my dreams seem to say,

"Don't be afraid to go on...

Don't give up hope, come what may..."

I know it all will come back

One day!

As the song reached its poignant conclusion, Morro opened his eyes, a renewed sense of determination in his gaze. The kwamis surrounded him, their presence a comforting reminder that he was not alone in his quest.

Azuka was the first to speak after the last chords and tones of the melodious revelation faded away into the midnight breeze. He placed a miniscule paw on Morro's shoulder and murmured reassuringly, "We're here with you, Morro. Together, we can make those dreams come true. I promise."

Morro had no words to describe the overwhelming sorrow and joy he felt in that very moment. Despite everything that had taken place, the kwamis still were there for him—though their bearers were still lost and they were now holder-less, he could see the love they had for him shining in each and every one of their beady kaleidoscopic eyes.

Suddenly, Morro spotted a peculiar purple-and-black butterfly flitting near the balcony of the Eiffel Tower. Drawn to its strange beauty, he slowly stood up, his steps soft yet deliberate as he approached it, his gaze locked on the ghostly beauty of the fluttering dark-powered monarch, He was hypnotized by it, mesmerized by it, entranced by it as he stepped closer and closer to where it flapped and flittered. The kwamis began to cry out in panic, urgently trying to warn him as to the butterfly's true nature, but he paid them no mind as he leaned over the railing, reaching out with one hand as he tried to catch the tiny winged being.

The voices of the kwamis grew louder, their desperate pleas lost on him as he stretched out farther, groping for the tiny, winged creature, snatching handfuls of air as his curiosity grew and grew. The butterfly didn't seem to want to come to him, but he just kept reaching, this time with both hands, trying to cup it in his grasp and hold it for just a few moments. And yet the kwamis' cries would not let up—in fact, they kept growing louder and more intense by the moment as Morro's creamy almond-tone fingers came closer and closer to the sinister flying beast.

"Morro, no!" Tikki shrieked. "That's not a butterfly—it's an akuma!" The others echoed her shrill scream as Morro continued to snatch at the air, chasing the butterfly back and forth along the balcony's edge, fighting desperately to catch it for just one second—just to see what it was like. But Morro seemed to be all but deaf to their cries. His hands came closer…closer…closer…

Plagg was not only screaming but shouting at the top of his microscopic lungs as he yelled, "Stop! Don't touch it!"

But it was too late. The moment Morro's fingers closed around the butterfly, a surge of white-cold pain flooded his veins. His shimmering golden-blond hair instantly turned a dull, raven-dark black, and he abruptly stumbled backwards, a scream tearing wolfishly from his throat as he lost his balance and tumbled over the railing, falling headlong towards his certain doom below. The emotion-driven energy of the akuma was shocking and draining at the same time, seeming to tug at his heart with a fierce, unyielding grip as a dark, sinister power flowed unbidden through his veins, its strength amplified by his great and terrible fear as the shadowy presence of the dark Miraculous-forged butterfly seemed to whisper temptingly in his ears, Come, wind-child. Let yourself slip into my darkness forever…give yourself over to my cold embrace and influence…

Morro was now not only screaming but shrieking, howling, wailing as the dark, chilling, mind-numbing akuma energy continued to ebb and course through his very veins. "Noooo! It's too much!" he cried, sobbing and thrashing and writhing wildly as he continued to plummet uncontrollably downward, the ground rushing to meet him as he just fell and fell and fell.

As he continued to fall, the wind-child's thoughts raced faster than a stampede of skittish mustang colts. His heart pounded frantically in his chest, like a gong of shattering reverberating over and over in his mind as he struggled to stay vigilant and alert against the akuma's influence and tempting voice. The pain roaring through his veins like a dragon's fiery flame was excruciatingly intense and horror-striking, but what terrified him more was the sense of unwillingly being not just drawn but yanked into darkness—a darkness that would never let him go, no matter how hard he wrestled and fought its influence.

What have I done? he thought, his mind spiraling into a great terror and bleak despair as his struggles against the akuma's power grew weaker and frailer by the second. This isn't supposed to happen. I can't… I can't…

The kwamis, hearing his petrified screams and screeching cries of melancholy woe, made a desperate decision. They zoomed downward and merged with him, using their collective power to try and break his fall. But in doing so, the timeline fractured even further, and a dark realization hit them—Hawk Moth, their ancient enemy, now knew of Morro's existence.

Tikki was frantic as she urgently cried out within Morro's heart, "We have to protect him! The timeline is breaking even more!"

Nooroo was even more desperate, shouting above the din of the air rushing past his young wind-child host, "What do we do? We can't let Hawk Moth find him!"

But it was Duusu who realized what must be done. It wouldn't be easy, and it wasn't what she wanted to do—as did anyone else at that moment. But she knew that if the kwamis were to keep Morro safe from Hawk Moth, this could very well be their only chance to shield him from the sinister fiend's influence.

"We have no choice." she said sadly within Morro's heart. "We must cast him into a comatose state to protect him. It will freeze him in time until he can find a way out on his own."

The kwamis, their hearts heavy with the weight of their decision yet hopeful that it would all come out all right in the end, channeled their powers together. Morro's form became enveloped in a soft, shimmering light, and his fall slowed until he hovered just above the ground.

It feels... strange, he thought to himself, his earlier gripping panic ebbing swiftly away, giving way to a soothing calm and serenity of heart. It's like I'm floating. Am I still falling? What are they doing to me? I hope...

His awareness began to wane as his eyelids flickered closed, his breathing slowing, his chest rising and falling evenly as he was gently lowered onto the cold, hard pavement of the cement ground, the magic of the kwamis' energy holding him safe and warm even amidst the swirling storms of the broken, flawed, fragile timeline. As his pulse grew slow and sluggish from induced healing slumber, he looked remarkably peaceful to the kwamis, almost as if he were simply asleep, suspended in time, cocooned in a welcome, protecting stillness and silence and tranquility of mind.

Sass, known well for his intuitive thinking and deep consideration, whispered wisely, "Duusu, you were right. This is the only way to keep him safe. We can shield him and comfort him, but he must find his own way to break free."

Azuka replied reassuringly, "We'll be with him, watching over him. We won't let him face this alone." The others murmured their agreement, feeling sorrow begin to curl in their little beating hearts as Morro's alertness gave way to a deep, healing slumber and prolonged sleep.

As Morro silently entered the comatose state, the kwamis remained by his side, their presence a comforting reminder of the bond they shared. Despite the shattered timeline and the looming threat of Hawk Moth, they knew they had to hold on to the hope that Morro would find his way back someday—that this would not be the end—that Morro would return to them one day, just as they had returned to him.

"Rest well, Morro." Trixx whispered in a soft sob of hope intertwining with grief and longing. "We'll be here when you wake up."

Morro's thoughts were fading into the night, but there was one thing for sure he knew was certain, and that was this:

I won't... give up...not now…not ever.

With a final sigh, Morro fell headlong into the deep, dreamless sleep induced by the kwamis' power. He was now suspended in time, the kwamis gathered around him, determined to protect their bearer and restore balance to their world. Despite the darkness and the challenges ahead, they all resolved in their hearts to remain united in their mission with unwavering hope and strength—until the day their bearer would indeed return.