Past
Lila Rossi. It seemed so obvious in retrospect. Adrien had to continuously push away that sense of familiarity, had to stop himself from comparing the two or panicking when he heard that Lila-like edge to her voice. Lila Rossi was Chrysalis, and Adrien had no doubt that, if Chalot was Defect, his strange assistant was Chrysalis. She even alluded to reuniting with Chalot around the same time that Monarch fell.
So, Lila Rossi was Cerise.
Adrien had thought Lila was cute.
Adrien had compared her to Marinette.
Adrien had practically agreed to go out on a date with her.
Adrien… Really needed something to vomit in.
It was the next day, and he still couldn't shake the nausea that the revelation brought with it. He walked the halls of the mansion where everything seemed just a little bit taller, and a little bit darker, surrounding him with crevices he could imagine her hiding in, watching him with that sadistic, amused grin.
That was what stung the most. The thought of how he'd once held Lila in any esteem, how he'd even for a moment let himself imagine there was something endearing about her. He'd been desperate, craving normalcy, connection—anything to distract him from the suffocating loneliness of his life.
But that loneliness had blinded him. And in Marinette's absence, it had blinded him once more.
Adrien clenched his fists. He hated himself for how easily he'd fallen for Lila's mask, for how he'd brushed off Marinette's warnings back then. Marinette… Marinette had always seen through her. She had tried to protect him, but he'd been too stubborn, too naive to listen.
And now Marinette was gone.
If he'd hadn't given Marinette that awful advice all the way back when they first exposed her, if he'd done something about Lila instead of letting her fester like a wound, if Alya or anyone else hadn't been so gullible; would it have changed anything?
Alya told him, and maybe herself as well, that someone like Lila would have always found her way here even if they had gotten her expelled. That the obsession and cunning you needed to have different identities, with whole different lives, to fall back on, was one that wouldn't be stopped so easily.
Yet he couldn't help but think that if she'd been exposed, they'd have been more prepared, that somehow this wouldn't have been able to happen.
He turned away from the window, his chest tight, his breathing shallow. "I let her get this far," he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heartbeat. "I didn't see it. I didn't stop her."
The letter was still folded in his pocket, its weight a constant reminder of how deep Chrysalis' obsession ran. He hadn't been able to throw it away, hadn't been able to bring himself to destroy it. A part of him felt like he needed to keep it, like it was evidence of something he couldn't yet define.
It was a sickening thought that, in some twisted way, he wanted her words, and all implications they carried with them, to remain close to his heart.
Adrien walked to the nearest door and leaned against it, his head bowed. The silence around him was suffocating, the weight of the mansion pressing down on him like it always did. But now it felt worse. Now it felt like every shadow in the corners of the room was her, watching, waiting, grinning.
He pressed his palm against his forehead, shutting his eyes tightly. The memories, the regret, the disgust—they all swirled together, a storm he couldn't escape. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand it.
We're the same, Adrien, two souls cast adrift in a world that doesn't understand us.
He slipped back into the office, stumbling his way over to the secret elevator like a drunkard. It was fitting, because hearing her voice in his head, lashing at his ears with those putrid words made him feel drunk. Like he was losing all control over his body.
They hurt you, betray you, and lie to you. Your family, your friends… Even your heroes.
He didn't want to give those words any thought. It implied respect, it gave power to these… These deranged accusations. As if there was anything to consider about the tall tales of a liar's words.
They've used you as a brand, an accessory, hiding their true motives behind false affection.
There was a point in the ride down that the lighting cut out. One faulty bulb that they'd yet to fix close to the bottom of the shaft. For about five or ten seconds there was just the light above and the darkness below, leaving Adrien descending into the abyss, broken away from the world.
For too long, he was alone with her. Long enough to be defenceless against her words, long enough to feel her lips pry his own open to force them down his throat, long enough to consider how it tasted.
But I see past all that. I see you. And I love you, Adrien. Unconditionally. The way you deserve to be loved.
Long enough for his broken heart to believe, for just one shameful second, that he was loved.
He was ripped from his stupor by the loud blare of the elevator alarm, leaving him hurriedly wiping the new layer of sweat from his brow before he crawled out of the compartment. As he made his way through the entrance hall, he found himself stopping in front of the row of pictures they'd set up by the entrance, the most prominent of which being of Ladybug and Chat Noir's first 'pound it'.
Adrien couldn't help the guilt that choked him up, Ladybug's visage suddenly looking a lot more towering, more judgemental. Would she still look at him the same way if she knew he'd been thinking such foolish things about the woman who engineered her death? He shook his head and tore himself away from the picture – he couldn't stand around for an answer he'd never receive.
He continued onward into the base, marvelling at how much the place had come together in the past few months. The construction was a little shoddy, and Chloe and Max were still warring on what shade to paint the walls, but it looked a far cry from the damp, barren dungeon they'd found it as.
The first thing he noticed as soon as he stepped in was Nathalie facing off with Alya and Su-Han at the other end of the room. It was an odd enough pair already, but even odder was that cool-as-a-cucumber Nathalie looked like she was on the ropes from an angry Alya.
Alya had been the most obviously affected by the revelation of Lila's involvement. She had the same guilt as Adrien, only with the added expectation of proclaiming herself a servant of truth and deduction. Even Nino had his worries about her after that day, watching as she pulled away from the group and obsessively locked herself away with years of information to go back over. The only time she'd pulled her head from the records outside of food had been Chloe popping in to share some of Andre's initial findings.
Chalot F. Moth officially did not exist. Neither did Cerise. They had enough activity on the surface to hold up to most scrutiny, a fake birth certificate here and there, some files lost to convenient disasters; it was only someone with actual Government insight that could confirm the cracks.
For once in her life, Lila was caught with some semblance of truth as, according to some old paper trail Alya spent an entire night following, there was an orphanage in Italy that took on a girl who went by that name around the time frame Lila's story suggested. But knowing her, there was no guarantee that she didn't simply steal another's story.
The real interesting tidbit was Chalot's lieutenants.
Weevil Irving - Mob connections, convicted for smuggling of illicit goods throughout the 90's, had his sentence reduced in return for becoming a government informant before being cleared of all charges and transferred to the task force.
Boris Thompson – Former marine, wanted for desertion and treason, went into arms dealing and stealing tech from the military, had charges dropped due to the mysterious loss of evidence before being transferred to the task force.
Cassandra Smith – Former Super Villain 'Rupture', repeated acts of domestic terrorism via bombs, initially transferred from a prison sentence to a villain reformation program due to connections to her cousin Majestia, eventually transferred to the task force with all charges dropped.
All criminals, all dangerous, and all had their cases miraculously thrown out before joining the task force.
Nathalie was trying to walk away, fingers desperately clinging to her glasses, shielding her eyes from Alya's searching gaze. "Alya, this can wait, I have far too much to do."
But Alya wasn't going to give her that room, darting around to place herself in Nathalie's way, scowling. "No, it really can't."
Adrien decided that, for the moment, he didn't want to risk being put in the middle of this and instead gravitated towards the table set up closer to Max's workshop. Luka, Nino and Chloe sat around the table with their kwamis, setting up a killer game of Uno.
He leaned over the game with a curious eye, watching Trixx try and fail to peak at the other Kwamis' cards. "You guys have any idea what this is about?" He asked, jutting his thumb back towards the argument.
"No clue." Luka nodded with a sigh, reaching over to pull Sass away before the little kwami wacked Trixx with his cards. "They've just been 'Nu-uh, ya-huh'ing each other for the past five minutes."
Chloe snorted, tossing a Draw Four card onto the pile with all the elegance of a queen delivering a royal decree. "Whatever it is, I hope Alya gives her hell. Nathalie's been acting way too suspicious lately."
"She's Nathalie," Nino pointed out, slapping down his own card with a grin. "Suspicious is like her baseline."
He tilted his head back towards Adrien, "No offence, Bro."
Adrien crossed his arms, "Hey, she's not suspicious, she's just… Guarded."
Chloe raised a brow, leaning into her chair with a smirk. "That's just Adrien-speak for 'I don't want to admit my weird murder-momma might be hiding something.'"
Nino snickered, and Adrien groaned, rubbing his temples. "She's not a murder-momma. She's—"
"Your emotionally constipated former babysitter-slash-assistant-slash-part-time-ninja?" Luka offered helpfully, never taking his eyes off his cards.
"Ninja?" Nino gasped.
"I've seen her training sometimes." Luka whistled, "And let me tell you, I felt bad for the dummy she was using."
Adrien opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed. "You guys are impossible."
"Just like Nathalie," Chloe quipped, slapping down her next card with a flourish.
Trixx grinned, holding his cards suspiciously close to his snout. "Ooooh, burn!"
Adrien shook his head and pressed on past the table, ducking under the shutter of Max's workshop and making his way inside. Within was a mess of wires, metal panels and blueprints flooding the workshop. At the centre of the sea of indiscernible junk, Max sat cross-legged with what Adrien could only describe as a giant cylindrical plug in his lap.
Adrien had a hard time slinking through all the mess, every loose wire or idle bar proving to be all to easy to slip on while Max stared down at his work, completely oblivious to the rest of the world. "Hey Max, you look like you've been busy."
Max didn't dignify Adrien's statement by looking up at him, focusing only on the movements of his screwdriver tearing his gizmo apart. "I prefer the term productive."
"What are you working on?" Adrien was hesitant to ask, not because he wasn't curious, but because way too many times Max's technobabble was far too advanced for his dumb ass to understand.
"Last night I was hit with a sudden burst of inspiration when I fell in the shower." Max jumped to his feet, having no care for all the little pieces that fell from his knees as he did so. He zipped across the room to a roll of blueprints he had stashed on his desk, somehow perfectly jumping in between all the mess with the grace of a ballet dancer. "My skull was cracked open, but I was left with a vision!"
"That… Doesn't make me worry any less."
Max took the roll in his hand and lightly smacked it over Adrien's head, a glint of amusement in his eye. Max loved explaining things to an audience, even if they didn't understand a lick of it. "Ever since your tour of the Task Force's labs, I couldn't escape these queries firing off in my head."
He turned the paper on himself, more harshly smashing it on his head like it was a mallet. "When Monarch took all the miraculous, he somehow turned them into rings, and not only that, transferred them through the alliance network."
Pacing about the room, Adrien was starting to wonder if Max was even talking to him anymore, speaking in excited, hushed ranting. "It's easy to just shrug and go 'It's magic, don't think about it'," He clicked his tongue with an exaggerated gasp, "but I can't stop thinking about it."
He whipped out the blueprint, finally unfurling it to reveal the visage of his future creation.
Adrien narrowed his eyes, looking over the blueprint sceptically. "And that takes us to… A giant alliance ring?"
"No!" Max snapped his fingers. "Sorta of." He scratched his chin. "Maybe."
He finished with a murmur. "It was in the vision…"
"The bathroom concussion dream?" Adrien asked with a small chuckle, receiving a pout from Max in return.
"I saw the alliance rings, I saw the false akumas Chrysalis used to use, I saw a connection between Tsrugi and Monarch." He clapped his hands together, "And it all just made sense. Hawkmoth never showed any ingenuity for technology until Monarch, he had to have some genius' backing him up to create the alliance rings. And if we're already assuming that Tsrugi is working with the new Hawkmoth, why not say they were working with the old one too?"
"Nathalie said she had her suspicions." Adrien admitted, nodding along. He couldn't see much fault in the logic, but then again, he wasn't the most logical person. "Still doesn't explain the ring."
More clicks filled the air as Max incessantly cut him off by repeatedly snapping his fingers. "Getting to that, getting to that- Could you pass me that wrench?" Adrien did as he asked, "Thanks."
"So, my working theory is that Tsrugi found a way to store the essence of a miraculous, a lesser, imitation of the kwami's power, into the alliance rings."
"And you're trying to replicate that?"
Max grinned, his face lighting up like a kid who'd just been handed the keys to a candy store. "Exactly! Well, kind of. I don't have access to the tech Tsrugi used or a full understanding of how the miraculous essence works—yet—but I don't need to copy it exactly. I just need to reverse-engineer the concept."
"Imagine the implications, the uses if we could do that for all the miraculous." Max was practically thrumming with energy now, possibilities dominating his mind. "Build Turtle Miraculous-tier shields into our security measures, turn illusions into a computer program; make the Miraculous Ladybug restoration into a literal reset button!"
Adrien tilted his head, still not quite sure where this was going. "So… You want to make fake miraculous powers?"
"Not fake," Max corrected, his voice rising with enthusiasm. "Synthetic. We've already seen how akumatized objects and senti-monsters function—remnants of miraculous power can exist independently of the kwami if given the right container and fuel source. If we can replicate even a fraction of that process, we might be able to create something that mimics miraculous powers without needing the actual miraculous."
Adrien blinked, feeling more lost with each word. "And what would we do with that?"
Max whipped around, holding the blueprint up like it was a sacred text. "Use it against Chrysalis, of course! Think about it: a device that could grant temporary, controlled abilities to anyone on our side without putting a kwami at risk. Imagine arming helpful citizens with powers, creating an army of pseudo-miraculous holders to level the playing field!"
Adrien took a cautious step back, glancing between Max and the cluttered workshop. "Max… I'm all for fighting back, but doesn't this sound a little… dangerous?"
In some ways, it sounded like playing Hawkmoth's game, only with nothing in place to stop their chosen champions from going off the rails.
Max waved off the concern, already digging through another pile of wires and tools. "Danger is relative, Adrien. The miraculous themselves are dangerous in the wrong hands, but look at what they've accomplished in the right ones. Besides, I'm not talking about full-blown miraculous powers. Just small, focused enhancements."
"Enhancements like… cataclysms?" Adrien asked, raising an eyebrow.
Max froze mid-motion, then gave a sheepish laugh. "Okay, maybe not that one specifically. But think of the potential! Strength, agility, shields—powers tailored to complement the individual, like modular upgrades for our resistance fighters."
Adrien frowned, unease twisting in his gut. "And if someone steals it? Or if it malfunctions? We've seen what happens when miraculous powers get abused, Max. What's stopping this from turning into another nightmare?"
Max sighed, dropping the wrench in his hand and turning to face Adrien fully. "I know it's risky. I do. But Chrysalis and her team are leagues ahead of us in both strategy and resources. If we keep fighting this war like we've been doing, it's only a matter of time before we lose."
He crossed his arms, his usual excitable demeanor tempered by a rare seriousness. "I'm not saying this is the perfect solution, but it's a start. And we don't have the luxury of being cautious anymore, Adrien. Not if we want to win."
Adrien studied him for a long moment, torn between his growing unease and the undeniable logic of Max's words. He glanced at the blueprint again, imagining what it might look like in practice: people he trusted wielding incredible abilities, the resistance finally standing a chance against Chrysalis' forces.
But then he thought of Marinette, of what she would say if she saw this. Of how easily something like this could spiral out of control.
"I'll think about it," Adrien finally said, his voice low but firm. "But Max… Just promise me you'll be careful with this, okay? No rushing ahead without thinking about the consequences."
Max gave him a small, earnest smile. "You have my word, Adrien. I'm not trying to play god here. I just want to give us a fighting chance."
Adrien nodded, though the knot in his stomach remained. "Alright. Let me know how it goes."
He slipped out of the workshop, more unsettled than when he'd entered. He trusted Max's judgement, obviously, but magic tended to spin out of control when even the greatest of minds try to mess with it.
His mood wasn't improved when he returned to the uno table to find that the argument between his mother and his friend had only grown louder.
"Are they still arguing?" He groaned, receiving dismissive shrugs from the seated heroes. Nino was the only one who took his attention from the game, casting a worried glance towards his girlfriend. It was rare you heard Alya raise her voice in anger.
"What's do you think it's all about?" Nino murmured.
Luka hummed, "I dunno, I sure as hell ain't getting in between them."
Chloe scoffed, "You want answers, go get them, Agreste."
With a begrudging sigh, Adrien found his body stomping towards the conflict, catching the tail end of Alya snapping. "-If it's really nothing, then you shouldn't have a problem sharing it with the class."
One side of him was stunned to hear such a hiss come from Alya, the other side of him was instinctively protective of Nathalie being on the receiving end of that venom.
"Miss Cesaire, I don't know what has gotten into you," Nathalie spat back, a breathless edge to her voice as she feverously looked around for an escape route. "But this is none of your business and hardly relevant to our current situation."
Alya shoved her finger in Nathalie's face, pushing back the woman's glasses until they were tight on her nose. "Like hell it isn't!"
Adrien lunged in between them, ripping the two woman apart with little patience. He didn't know what was going on, but he damn well knew it wasn't worth them fighting each other. "Both of you, calm down and tell me what's going on."
There was an instant flash of offence from Alya before she stuffed it down and nodded towards Nathalie. "She's hiding something from us."
Nathalie seemed to shrink away, clutching her tablet tight against her chest. "I'm allowed to have my privacy, thank you very much." She shot back, retraining something in her voice.
"Not when it concerns us!" Alya slammed her foot down, her fist clench like she was readying for a fight.
And maybe in her eyes it was a fight, the fight of a woman who believed too many lies and needed to crack down on something to make up for it.
"Alya-" Adrien tried to speak but Alya simply smacked a folder against his chest, 'Salvadore'.
"Remember Salvadore?" She gave off a fake, exaggerated smile just so she could drop it into a stern frown. "Yeah, me and Su-Han did some digging and, guess what? Not a coincidence." She nodded her head towards Su-Han. "Su-Han recognised him dead on; it's the same damn guy."
Nathalie sounded quieter this time, "That doesn't necessarily create a connection."
"Oh please!" Alya sneered, throwing her arms out. "All this nonsense is connected to broken miraculous that the Guardians covered up, and now we find out that the one who was obsessed with that very thing just so happened to live in Paris in your mansion where Chrysalis found the miraculous? A mansion that has an entire trophy room dedicated to miraculous history, let's not forget."
Nathalie turned away, and as much as Adrien wanted to reach for her, he couldn't move from the spot. The folder feeling like a dumbbell in his arms. "The Agrestes were rich and loved collecting any piece of history they could get their hands on."
Su-Han shook his head gravely. "This is no coincidence; all of this is connected, and you've been giving guilty looks ever since we figured it out."
Adrien gave her a soft look, "Nathalie…"
She couldn't see it, yet he could see her muscles loosen under his gaze. "Adrien, please, it's not really my story to tell…"
"Nathalie, we need to trust each other here." He finally stepped forward, his hand taking hers and forcing her to look him in the eye. "If you know anything that could be connected to this, I'd really appreciate it if you were open about it."
"…Fine." She eventually sighed. "But like I said, it's not my story, so my knowledge is… Spotty."
Minutes later, Nathalie stood before everyone and let out a heavy sigh, adjusting her glasses as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. "Yes, this was once Salvadore's mansion. I did not know the man, nor have I ever met the man." She glanced toward Su-Han and Alya, who were both watching her intently. "But your father and your uncle did work for him for a time."
Nathalie shook her head, though her expression darkened. "No. I knew their business was in the occult and that it took Gabriel and Colt on some… strange adventures, but that was about it. Colt was very keen on keeping me out of it. As far as I could gather, Salvadore hired many people to help collect priceless artifacts of occult significance."
Adrien's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Huh. I guess that makes sense. I always wondered how my dad managed to get a hold of a Guardian's grimoire."
Nino snorted, leaning back in his chair. "I know I always compared that guy to a vampire, but somehow I never imagined the fashion guru Gabriel Agreste trading his pristine suit for a robe so he could go down to a local cult meeting and get some rituals going."
Nathalie allowed a small, bitter chuckle. "This was long before Gabriel's name became known—before he was married, even. In fact, I believe he invented the Agreste name specifically to distance himself from his time with Salvadore."
Chloe tilted her head in confusion. "Wait, Agreste isn't his real name?"
"No." Nathalie's tone softened slightly, almost nostalgic. "He was Gabbi Grassenette when I first met him."
Adrien blinked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "…Why did he change it?"
"He wanted to be somebody else, I assume." Nathalie's expression turned pensive, her fingers idly fiddling with the edge of her tablet. "Colt went by a different name too. Like I said, it was all very hush-hush."
Luka, who had been quietly observing the conversation, spoke up. "Colt?"
"Felix's dad," Chloe supplied, her voice almost dismissive.
"Oh. Right," Luka muttered, his brow furrowed in thought. "So… Colt was the fake name?"
Nathalie shook her head, lips pursing as she searched her memory. "No. The name he used under Salvadore was…" She hesitated, her eyes narrowing as if the answer was just out of reach. "Ah, it's on the tip of my tongue. I just remember Gabriel groaning about it. It was some childish anagram that made Colt feel pretty clever."
Adrien tilted his head. "A childish anagram? Of what?"
"I don't recall," Nathalie admitted with a sigh. "But if you ask me, it suited him. Colt always had a flair for dramatics, even back then."
Chloe huffed. "You mean to tell me Felix gets his pretentious vibes from both sides of his family? Shocker."
The room buzzed with murmurs of disbelief and groans of exasperation as Nathalie finished her explanation. Amid the noise, Max wandered away from the group, his expression growing pensive. His fingers twirled a marker as he paced over to the whiteboard hanging against the wall, his eyes glancing back and forth between the conversation and the names already etched in his mind.
"An anagram?" he muttered under his breath, pausing to click the marker open.
Adrien tilted his head. "What's wrong with an anagram?"
Max didn't respond immediately, instead scrawling something quickly onto the board, the squeak of the marker drowned out by the others.
Chloe rolled her eyes. "It's like the kiddie pool of word puzzles. Come on."
"Hey, guys?" Max called out, still preoccupied with his work.
His voice went unnoticed.
Adrien frowned. "I think anagrams are cool…"
Alya leaned over to pat his shoulder with a patronizing smile. "And you are our precious, special boy, Adrien."
"Guys?" Max tried again, louder this time, his tone edged with impatience.
Finally, the group turned to him, their various conversations halting.
"What?" they chorused in mild annoyance.
Max gave them a deadpan stare before stepping aside to reveal the whiteboard. With a tap of his pen, he pointed to the two names he'd written:
Colt H. Fathom
Chalot F. Moth
"I think I know what Colt's name was," Max said simply.
Chloe stared at the board for a long moment before letting out an exasperated groan. "Oh, that is so fucking dumb."
Present
Marinette had suffered through a lot of cracks about her size. At one point, Adrien and Nino had collectively been calling a gnome and laughed themselves silly. But slumped in a seat twice her size, with the seatbelt being tightened to the max just to not feel loose on her, she suddenly felt like a toddler crawling into her father's desk chair.
It was a repurposed deployment vehicle from the Miraculous Task Force as far as Alec could tell her, built to take a lot of hits and transfer a lot of bodies. From the outside, she'd say it looked like a stretched-out metal beetle wrapped in a smudged grey colour scheme. It was about as long as a bus, and wide enough to support a lot of seats facing inward towards an oval war table.
The 'head' of the beetle was sloped down, opening up to the drivers seat where Alec and Bertrum sat. Peering over them, she could catch a small glimpse of the outside world, a broken road unravelling into moss-covered marshes and slimy looking puddles. There were windows back into the passenger's section with Gabriel and Juleka, but they'd been sealed shut by a metal cover that left the room dim and moody.
Marinette didn't mind much; it was certainly an upgrade from the shoddy and claustrophobic feel of everywhere else she'd been stuck. "Whoa, it's so roomy…" She hummed, kicking her feet up in the air, fruitlessly attempting to urge her legs to reach the table.
Naturally, Gabriel shot her a look like she was wrong in the head. "I never expected you to be a cars girl."
"I'm not." Marinette shrugged, wiggling her foot at him as a taunt. "But after sleeping in your run-down mansion and a hospital bed; let's just say that I'm now a comfy chair on a late-night ride-along girl."
"Quiet down back there!" Bertrum barked over his shoulder.
Gabriel, unable to help himself at this point, called back. "Or what? You're gonna shoot us for talking too loud?"
There was a frustrated growl and a low hiss that somehow managed to be heard over the roar of the engine, "We're on a mission here, you're going to give us away."
Gabriel batted his forehead in a mocking gesture, gasping as if being faced with a great and genius revelation. "Ah, of course! The quiet whispers in the back of a reinforced assault vehicle—clearly, those are what's going to blow our cover."
Hesitantly, Alec cut in. "I hate to agree with the supervillain-"
Marinette took the opportunity to turn her foot towards Gabriel's shins and kick.
"Ow!" He yelped, "What was that for?"
Marinette stuck her tongue out at him, "It was a pre-emptive 'shut the fuck up'."
Gabriel glared but didn't argue, leaving Alec to sigh and continue his protest. "-But you are way too tense today, Bert."
Bertrum scoffed, "How can I be anything else with him in the back?"
Juleka leaned forward, rolling her eyes, "We've had more dangerous guys in the truck."
Marinette found herself sniggering at the way Gabriel's lip pulled into a thin line, silent, but so clearly offended by Juleka's remark. "To be fair," Marinette began with the biggest shit-eating grin she could muster in the face of Gabriel's scowl. "I doubt you've had anyone more insufferable."
Gabriel crossed his arms, his glare icy. "I'm right here."
She turned the back of her hand to her forehead and moaned, aghast. "Yeah, and it's a real tragedy."
Gabriel crossed one leg over the other, leaning back in his oversized seat with an air of disbelief. "I still can't believe they let us come along for a mission. What's with the sudden leap in trust?"
Juleka, slouched opposite him with an air of perpetual disinterest, raised an eyebrow. "Well, the leaders all agreed on one thing: whatever you stand to gain, you've got too much ego to want to help Roth or Chrysalis in any way."
"…Fair." Gabriel folded his arms, though he didn't look particularly pleased with the assessment.
Juleka's lip twitched upward in the faintest of smirks. "So, in that sense, they 'trust' that you won't have much opportunity to betray us on a smash-and-grab mission that wouldn't also kill you."
Gabriel's nose wrinkled, faintly perplexed. "That's far more conniving logic than I ever thought your people were capable of."
"Marinette and my dad made a convincing argument," Juleka replied, shrugging lazily.
Marinette grinned in that sickly sweet way she knew just irked Gabriel to no end, leaning forward with her chin in her palm. "Don't worry, Hawky, we know you're thanking us in your heart."
Gabriel's icy glare slid her way, his lip curling ever so slightly. "I thought we agreed that I have no such thing."
Marinette gasped, clutching at her chest with mock offense. "You mean you lied to me? I'm shocked!"
The banter drew a quiet laugh from Juleka, though she quickly disguised it as a cough. Alec's voice called over from the driver's seat. "We're coming up on our destination."
Bertrum followed up with his usual gruff tone. "Try not to do anything stupid."
Marinette shot Gabriel a look that could only be described as mischievous. "He's talking to you, Hawky."
Alec's voice cut through the quiet. "We're here. Everybody out."
The back doors creaked open, the ramp descending with a mechanical whine. Marinette blinked against the sudden flood of gray light, stepping out onto a muddy riverbank. The ground squelched underfoot, thick with a purple sludge that shimmered like oil in water. Beyond the fog, a silhouette of a structure loomed in the distance, half-swallowed by the eerie atmosphere.
Bertrum clapped Alec on the back, jerking his thumb toward the fog. "Alright, Alec, you keep watch over the prisoners. Me and Juleka will scout ahead."
Juleka shot him a sceptical look, her arms crossed. "Why am I stuck with you?"
"Because I don't trust you," Bertrum replied bluntly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Juleka let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Fine."
Before she followed Bertrum, Juleka turned to Marinette and Gabriel, her gaze sharp. "Can you two please not give them more reasons to wanna shoot you?"
Gabriel offered her a mocking salute. "Scout's honour."
Juleka narrowed her eyes. "Marinette, check that he isn't crossing his fingers."
Marinette didn't even hesitate to hop behind Gabriel, inspecting his hand. It hung limply at his side, no mischief to be found. She gave Juleka a thumbs up.
Gabriel sighed, exasperated. "Happy?"
"With you around? Never," Marinette quipped, her grin playful.
Bertrum cast Gabriel a final scolding glance, met with an equally unimpressed look from the former supervillain. Without another word, he and Juleka trudged into the fog, their figures vanishing into the murk.
Gabriel turned away, his gaze settling on a nearby bush. He took one step before Alec blocked his path, arms crossed.
"Where are you going?" Alec demanded.
Gabriel met his stare with his own frigid glare. "To stretch my legs, bang my head against a wall, and, god willing, relieve myself in those bushes."
The two locked eyes for a moment, the tension thick in the air. Marinette, leaning casually against the hood of the truck, couldn't help but roll her eyes. It wasn't like Gabriel had anywhere to run to in the middle of this polluted swamp.
"Do you wish to watch?" Gabriel added with dry disdain. "Because I have to inform you that I charge by the minute."
Gabriel disappeared behind the bush with all the theatrical exasperation of a man who thought himself above such bodily functions. Alec sighed and shook his head, turning his gaze back to Marinette, who was now leaning casually against the hood of the truck.
"How do you live with this guy?" Alec asked, his voice low and tinged with genuine curiosity.
Marinette snorted, crossing her arms. "Against my will."
Alec quirked a brow. "So, he doesn't get better once you get to know him?"
"Nope," she replied breezily, popping the p for emphasis. "He doesn't get better, but you learn how to tune him out. Does that count?"
Alec chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "That man's got enough ego to sink this whole swamp."
"You're not wrong," Marinette agreed with a wry grin. "But hey, at least he's consistent. If Hawky ever stopped being a pain, I'd be worried something was really wrong."
Marinette peered through the foggy horizon, her eyes narrowing to make out the faint, rusted letters identifying the distant structure. TVi Tower. Its once-bustling studio, she imagined, now stood as a hollow shell of its former self, another forgotten relic of the apocalypse.
Next to her, Alec stared into the same bleak expanse, his posture stiff as though bracing himself against unseen memories. "Feels like years since I last saw this place," he muttered. "Then again, that's what a lot of Paris feels like nowadays. Doesn't feel like home, just… Something that used to be home."
The silence that followed was heavy, only punctuated by Gabriel stomping noisily through the foliage nearby. The weight of unspoken thoughts bore down on them both, Marinette struggling to find the right words. Finally, she exhaled and broke the quiet.
"We saw your show back at the Liberty," she said carefully, her voice tinged with regret.
Alec flinched, his shoulders tightening as though she'd struck him. "I really wish you didn't," he murmured, his tone dark and brittle.
"I know it's none of my business—"
"No, it's…" Alec paused, running a hand over his face. "Well, it's not fine, but I can't be closed off about it." His eyes drifted back toward the fog, staring into the distance like it held a replay of the events he'd endured. "When everything went down and Roth sold us all out, he got his new bodyguards to corner me. 'Encouraged' me to be the host for his new slew of reality slop."
Marinette's stomach churned as the pieces began to fit together. "He's very conscious of his image, isn't he?" she asked softly.
"And his safety," Alec replied, his laugh devoid of humor. "Never makes an appearance outside the studio. Doesn't have to—he gets everything he wants delivered straight to him."
Marinette hesitated, dreading the answer to her next question but unable to keep it inside. "What… What happened to the lady who failed the audition?"
Alec's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening. "Stuffed into one of Roth's dungeons. Left to rot and starve until they're 'motivated' to win." His voice wavered with bitter amusement. "Better than death, I guess. Sometimes he transfers them to his 'survivor' rip-off, where they literally have to fight to stay alive."
Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she processed his words, her nails digging into her shoulders. All the horrors that had unfolded while she'd been gone, while she'd been powerless, hit her like a physical blow.
"That's terrible," she said, her voice trembling. "I can't imagine being forced to smile through all of that." She tried to latch onto some optimism. "It has to at least give you some good insider knowledge."
Alec's fist came down hard on the hood of the truck, the metal groaning under the impact. The outburst startled Marinette as he let out a bark of laughter that was more despair than humor. "Fat lot of good that does."
He slumped forward, pressing his forehead against the truck like a man surrendering to a guillotine. "We… We don't do anything, do we? We just sit back, keep our heads low, and hope someone else will end this nightmare."
"All that's required for evil to prosper is for good men to do nothing," Marinette said quietly.
"Isn't that what you did?" Alec snapped, his voice sharp.
The accusation struck her harder than any akuma ever had. She turned away, her shame palpable in the sag of her shoulders.
"I-I'm sorry," Alec stammered, visibly recoiling from his own words. "I shouldn't have said that." He reached into his jacket, fumbling for a cigarette. "Mind if I smoke?"
Marinette forced a bitter smile, shaking her head. "No, you're right. I've come to realize I set a lot of standards that I don't hold myself to."
"I'm sure you had your reasons, Marinette," Alec replied, his tone softer now. He exhaled shakily, his next words cracking under their weight. "But god, were we not ready to see Ladybug fall."
Marinette winced. "What was it like when everyone found out?"
"Disgusting," Alec admitted, the word spat out like venom. "Everyone was so angry. Everyone wanted payback, punishment. But neither of you two were there to attack anymore."
His cheeks puffed and shrank, something trying to break free, something vile that he couldn't swallow, but also couldn't spit out. He strained himself to hold it back, but eventually he had to look Marinette in the eye and confess. "But Adrien was. A lot of us said—and encouraged—some unacceptable things."
Adrien. Adrien had been left behind to bare the brunt of their mistakes. He was Ladybug's partner and Hawkmoth's son. She couldn't help the way her heart stopped at the thought, of everything he had to endure because of her and Gabriel's mistakes, she couldn't stop her nails from digging into her palm in frustration. Despite her own shame, she couldn't help but feel disgust at the man in front of her simply imagining what the media, what the mob, might have done to Adrien.
She couldn't bear to imagine the vitriol, the mob mentality that had turned him into a scapegoat for her failures.
"In the meeting room, when Hawkmoth was taunting us, I thought of that day," Alec continued, his voice thick with regret. "I think… I think we all saw exactly what Hawkmoth saw. The akumas in us all."
She couldn't say anything back, couldn't trust that she wouldn't spit out something she regretted, so she brought her thumb up to her lips and bit down on it.
"Listen, I want to trust you," Alec said, his voice trembling, a raw nerve exposed. "I really do. But I don't think I can trust anyone anymore. I mean, if the superhero is as vulnerable to this stuff as the worst of us, what chance do we have?"
It wasn't until her teeth cut flesh and let blood leak from the wound and that numbing pressure spread down her hand that Marinette allowed herself to calm. Marinette's voice was steady despite the tremor in her hands. "If a superhero can be as weak as the worst human, doesn't that mean the worst human can be as strong as the best superhero?" She met Alec's gaze, her determination unwavering. "The fact that you're still here, still surviving after all this? That means you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."
Alec managed a weak smile, his voice barely above a whisper. "I really hope I'll believe that someday."
Marinette opened her mouth to reply, but the conversation was interrupted by the squelching sound of Gabriel's shoes returning from the bush. He wore a look of supreme dissatisfaction as he tugged at the cuff of his sleeve, clearly displeased with the state of his surroundings.
"Well," Gabriel announced dramatically, "I've braved the horrors of this wilderness and returned unscathed. What's next, a stroll through quicksand?"
"Just stick close," Alec grumbled, waving him off. "The last thing we need is you wandering off and getting eaten by whatever lives in this sludge."
Marinette smirked, shooting a sidelong glance at Gabriel. "Oh, I don't know. I'm sure the sludge monsters would find him delightful."
Gabriel glared at her, but there was no real heat behind it. "If I'm devoured, rest assured I will haunt you specifically, Bug."
"Already haunted by your voice, so what's the difference?" she shot back. "How was the trip, Hawky? I hope you didn't fall into any stinging nettles or anything."
Gabriel sighed heavily, dragging his feet toward them. "I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear that I did come across a snake."
Marinette gasped mockingly. "Oh my, it didn't try to bite you, did it? I'd hate to think the poor creature got poisoned."
"Back in my day, young punks got hurt for running their mouths like that."
"I'm sure you were a real tough guy ball buster back then, Bud. So much that time has taken from you in your old age."
"I'm not even middle aged yet, you wretch."
"I can't hear you over your bones creaking."
Alec groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as their bickering escalated. "I swear, it's like babysitting bickering siblings," he muttered, retreating toward the edge of the water to stand watch.
Gabriel leaned against the truck, arms crossed as Marinette perched on the hood, kicking her feet idly.
"Speaking of unpleasant surprises," Marinette began, her tone softening but her gaze sharpening, "should I be worried about any more of your exes coming back from the dead?"
Gabriel's eyes flicked to her, narrowing. "I assure you, there are very few people in the world who would be close enough to me on a personal level to matter; and even fewer who still yet live."
"Secret clubs of spooky Illuminati types hoarding magical artifacts sound like a recipe for zombies to me," she pressed, tilting her head.
Gabriel stiffened at that, his expression hardening. "The only one in our 'club' who held such knowledge was Salvadore, and that knowledge failed him in the end."
The name dripped from his lips with such venomous disdain that Marinette felt her spine stiffen. Gabriel excelled in communicating distain, but that one word, that name - Salvadore - it was honestly unnerving how much hatred and fear Gabriel managed to fit into his voice to simply speak that name. It was akin to someone calling upon a curse, speaking the name of a demon that would manifest to take your soul.
"I think it's time you told me more about these guys," she said, leaning forward.
"Why?"
"Because Meltdown already told us it was relevant." Marinette cupped her hands over her mouth, mimicking Meltdown's nasally voice. "'Cus an old pal of yours is setting up the mother of all reunions, and I'm gonna make sure you look your best!'"
Gabriel's brows furrowed. "You heard that?"
"It took me a minute to get the courage to throw that plate," she admitted. "But don't change the subject! Meltdown was implying there's someone else you know gunning for you."
Gabriel hesitated, his gaze darkening. "…It could be Nathalie."
Marinette shot him a skeptical look.
"Alright, fine, I'll regale you with some history." he relented with a huff. "But trust me, it's meaningless."
Marinette smirked. "Start squawking, Hawky."
"Called ourselves 'The Crimson Circle', a little society Salvadore hid under his mansion." She watched curiously as Gabriel began to nervously tug at his lips in an action that clashed against the cold composure he presented. "He was a former guardian. I assume a survivor of Feasts' little rampage. That's where all his miraculous knowledge came from."
Marinette found her brows shooting up. A guardian? Fu never mentioned any others existing before the effects of Feast had been undone. And now there had been one hiding in Paris all that time, using the opportunity to build a corrupt cabal over the corpses of his fellow guardians.
Gabriel held his hand up, pointing to the limitless possibilities of the sky. "This was a man who had is fingers in a lot of pies in high society, pulled a lot of strings to pour money into his pursuit of the occult."
"I bet he pulled a lot of strings for you too."
She didn't mean for it to sound so accusatory, but Gabriel's glare took it head on, not with pride, but indignance. "We all what we have to do to break free from our lowly stations, Bug."
There was a dangerous glint in his eye that made her hesitant to question, but she pushed onwards anyway. A part of her already suspected the answer. "And what did you have to do?"
"Whatever Salvadore asked." His smile didn't reach his eye, nor did it reach much discernible emotion. It wasn't an intent, it was an instinct, a practised response. "After initiation, after you proved your loyalty, it got easier."
A slight twitch of his brow betrayed the instability underneath, and cracked the mask of apathy as he continued. "And if some of those requests required blood be spilled, then so be it." He spat, his hand shooting out like he was throwing something. "There was no turning back."
Marinette's eyes narrowed. "Why not?"
"Oh, don't be foolish, Child." He growled, dismissing her with an aggressive slash of his hand. "A secret society dedicated to the power to reshape the world for their own ends?" There was a mockingly thoughtful undercurrent to his tone that transitioned into a bitter laugh. "You think someone can just… Leave without consequence?"
His footsteps were heavier, louder upon his approach. "I did what I had to in order to secure the future, so that I could save Emilie from her parents and live the life we always talked about."
"Of course, he pitched it as some form of revolution. That we were seeking power to break the chains that society had placed upon us." He hissed, howling with laughter that had all traces of humour ripped open, like a slashed throat gurgling out it's last echoes of life. "We were only seeking power for him, and with every act, no matter how big or small, we gave ourselves to him. Live. Die. Fail. Succeed. No matter our deed, it tied us to him, gave him power over us."
"Us, the slaves blinded by the gleaming jewlery." Gabriel's hand fell upon his throat, pressing against the memory of a weight that had once been there. "And him… The Supreme Being that stood over us all."
Marinette froze, the word echoing in the back of her mind. Said by a man with a voice similar to Gabriel's, wielding Gabriel's face; a man from another world. "W-What was that?" She asked in a hushed whisper.
"Supreme? It's what he liked to call himself when he no longer needed to mask his ambitions from his loyal inner circle." His lips took on a prideful curl, tasting the one true victory he felt he'd earned against whatever memory passed through his head. "Then again, I was never truly loyal, was I? His one obsession above all was the butterfly miraculous, though I never knew the reason. And I denied him that."
Marinette didn't really listen to the rest, her mind remained stuck on that word, and on how Gabriel seemed completely ignorant of the true weight of what he may have just suggested. "You… You never talked to Shadybug or Claw Noir, did you?"
Gabriel's gaze flickered, the sudden subject change shaking him out of his thoughts for the moment. "I needed their aid to squash you." He explained simply, "Their histories meant very little to me."
"So, you were never told about the world they came from?"
"I assumed it was a simple switch of roles where I grew up nice and you grew up bitter."
"I imagine the world they come from looks more like our current Paris." Marinette explained, looking back over the putrid skyline. "A nightmare where the innocent are subjected to the rule of a cruel ruler, where hope and heroes are stamped out; and all magic is hidden and controlled by one being – the Supreme."
Gabriel's form went limp, his mouth hung agape and his eyes unfocused. "That's…" He murmured, the moan of a man feeling the pain rushing back. "That's what he called himself?"
"That's what he called himself?" Gabriel's voice was a strained whisper, as if the word Supreme weighed a thousand tons on his chest. His gaze drifted to the fog rolling in from the swampy banks, the faint outline of the TVi Tower now obscured by a thick curtain of mist.
Marinette didn't want to push him further, but she couldn't ignore the opportunity to understand more. Her voice, soft but steady, broke through the tense silence. "Yes. The Supreme. The ruler of an entire world built on lies and power, where only the Supreme's inner circle is given access to his power."
Gabriel's hands trembled as he reached for the edge of the truck, his posture hunched over as though trying to physically hold himself together. He stood there for a moment, still as if trying to regain some semblance of composure. The air around them seemed to thicken, the weight of the conversation settling heavily between them.
Marinette couldn't help but ask, her voice soft but pointed. "What happened to Salvadore?"
Gabriel's gaze dropped, and for a long second, he said nothing, his eyes locked on the ground as if the memory itself was too much to bear. Finally, he spoke, his voice cold, almost detached. "One night I was at the end of my rope. And I made sure that he, nor anyone else, would ever have power over me again."
There was a long pause as he gathered himself, every word sounding like it was being dragged from him. "The next day, I proposed to Emilie and we left Paris to start anew. Changed my name to Agreste, found the peacock and, when enough time had passed and I was sure that any fledgling remains of his order had gone, we returned. I claimed Salvadore's mansion and all of his secrets."
Marinette's brow furrowed as the pieces began to fit together. "So… in one world, you kill the Supreme. In another, he survives long enough to take the Miracle Box from Fu and turn Paris into a dystopian nightmare?"
Gabriel's voice rose, an edge of disbelief lacing his words. "That's… That's it? That's the change that defines my life? Whether I rise as a hero or damn myself into villainy, it's all based around me failing to kill him? That's nonsense, there has to be more!"
Marinette sighed and ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. "Hey, we don't know anything for sure. If Tikki was here, she'd probably say the change could be a butterfly effect from something as small as Salvadore deciding to change up his diet one day."
Gabriel's eyes flashed with frustration, though there was an underlying uncertainty creeping in. "Do you think he's connected to any of this?" he asked, his voice sharper than before.
Marinette hesitated for a moment, her gaze scanning the grim landscape around them before she spoke. "I mean, it would explain where Lila got her magical knowledge from," she replied. "We know the Rooster can be used to jump universes, so it's not impossible that the Supreme could come over here. But if it was him… the butterfly guy would have mentioned it, right?"
Gabriel's expression hardened, and he took a step back as though distancing himself from the idea. "Then what meaning do you take from this blighted story?"
Marinette took a breath, steadying herself before she spoke again. "You said you'd waited until there were no more of Salvadore's followers—"
"They're dead," Gabriel cut her off firmly. "Salvadore bound us all to his life force. If his light was to be extinguished, then so would ours."
Gabriel's voice dropped, the weight of his words dragging him further down into his own memories. "It was a painful, and borderline impossible ritual that broke that connection and saved me from that fate. Weevil had the special privilege of never truly being a part of the circle, so he never had the connection made."
Marinette's eyes widened, though she didn't interrupt, letting Gabriel continue.
"And Colt was spared too, right?" she asked carefully.
"Yes, but he's dead, so he has nothing to do with this," Gabriel replied, the bitterness clear in his tone.
Marinette raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
Gabriel's frustration flared again, his hand lifting in an almost dismissive gesture. "He's dead. I've made it very clear that he's dead."
Marinette crossed her arms, her voice unwavering. "He could have faked his death."
"Colt isn't smart enough to brush his own teeth correctly." He barked.
"I'm not hearing any better explanations."
Marinette had been through a lot of terrifying moments in her life—being face-to-face with Hawkmoth in his lair, countless akumas, and even the lingering guilt of failure. But standing there, watching Gabriel Agreste's trembling frame as he clenched his fists so tight that his knuckles turned white, she wondered if this might be the first time she genuinely feared him.
His face was twisted in fury, his lips curling back as if ready to spit venom. For a moment, she thought he might lunge at her. She didn't flinch, but every fibre of her being screamed at her to brace herself.
"Listen very closely, you insipid, stupid little bitch," he hissed, the words slicing through the tense air like a blade. Gabriel rarely swore, and when he did, it was with surgical precision. "Colt Fathom is dead. He died alone, a pathetic, cowardly wretch who could hardly be considered a man. He's in the ground as he rightfully should be."
Marinette's breath caught as Gabriel stepped closer, his voice dropping into something cold and venomous.
"And I know that because I put him there." His eyes were wild now, bloodshot and glinting with a maddened edge. "Because that is what a man does to his wife's murderer."
Marinette felt her pulse spike, but she didn't step back. She couldn't. "I thought it was the Peacock Miraculous that—"
Gabriel slammed a fist against the hood of the truck, startling Marinette and Alec. Alec turned toward them, concern flickering in his eyes, but he didn't dare intervene. Not yet.
"I could have saved her!" Gabriel's voice cracked, and for a fleeting second, the anger gave way to something deeper, something raw and broken. "I was going to save her. I held the very power that would save her life in my hand."
His breathing grew ragged as his voice dropped to a whisper. "And he destroyed it. Once more, I was forced to watch the woman I loved most in the entire universe – an innocent woman who'd shared nothing but compassion and joy and received only mistreatment in return – rot away in her bed, powerless to do anything but listen to her cries and her curses, because of him."
His voice softened, almost to a whisper, as if confessing to himself rather than her. "His death was the one thing in my wretched miserable life that I did right."
Next Time: Optidrone
"Find anything, Bug?" he called toward the booth Marinette had entered.
Marinette emerged from the booth, holding up a handful of dusty CD covers with an excited grin. "These look in pretty good condition!" she called, before ducking back inside, the sound of more rustling following as she rummaged through the collection.
Juleka leaned in, peeking through the door curiously. "Hey, I remember watching this broadcast when I was little," she said, pointing at one of the discs Marinette held. "A charity call-in event gets interrupted by a guy wielding a banana and swearing it was a gun."
Gabriel sighed wistfully, his expression momentarily softening. "Harry made an entire movie around that one. He was specifically really enthused about the banana." Memories of Emilie being horrified when little Adrien started mimicking the event with his own bananas flashed through his mind.
Marinette laughed as she sifted through more discs. "Some old Ladybug interviews… Some shipping discourse… Oh, and that week André declared war on chocolate because Audrey was jealous that other people were eating it during her diet."
Alec snorted as he slid a few components into his bag. "I remember the self-proclaimed 'chocolate baron' guy getting akumatized over that. Came out looking like a Candy Land villain."
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "You say it like that's a bad thing."
Alec grinned. "You obviously should have gone for a Willy Wonka-inspired villain."
Before Gabriel could retort, Marinette chimed in. "No, no, Alec's right."
Gabriel huffed, crossing his arms. "Baldy doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm not taking this from the guy who decided a giant wig and a golden robe would be his signature look after rebranding."
"Adrien said you should have done Wonka too," Marinette added smugly.
Her attention was quickly diverted, however, as she pulled out a collection of CDs with Ladybug and Chat Noir on the covers. She let out an excited squeal, bouncing out of the booth. "Hey! They even have copies of the Ladybug and Chat Noir movies!"
Gabriel groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Ugh, Adrien made me sit down and watch every single one of those with him."