Past
Ladybug lunged forward into a sprint, arms pumping with a desperate energy she hadn't felt since Monarch's miraculized army was nipping at her heels. She carried so much momentum that rounding the corner was more like a car drifting past a turn, almost smashing against the edge of the opposing wall as it barrelled through whatever got in its way.
She was a wrecking machine, ripping doors off their hinges as she charged through them, effortlessly launching herself off walls into a smooth and quick jump to vault over the ruin left by the crumbling architecture. The world, even the fire that desperately groped the air trying to grab her, became meaningless, a blur staining her vision – the only detail that mattered was a shape that looked human.
Now, while that energy worked fantastically for the straightforward approach, Ladybug quickly found her attitude souring as the road became more complicated. She found herself at an intersection, flanked on all sides by winding hallways, any evidence of where her mystery man disappeared to had been consumed by the howling flames. She considered calling Rena for directions, she remembered Alya reporting on the construction of the shopping centre a while back, but looking at her bug phone quickly told her that she was getting no reception.
It's a good thing I have Tikki's instincts to guide me, Ladybug told herself, bringing her yoyo up to her chest, briefly closing her eyes and silently begging Tikki for good luck, before tossing it into the air.
"Lucky charm!" The words, either magic in of themselves or empowered by her desperate desires, triggered a bright flash that consumed her yoyo. In that split second that the yoyo was hidden from view, it shifted, moulded by the fingers of foresight, enhanced by the powers of creation.
A second later, she clutched its new form in hand – a compass. An ordinary compass outside of one detail, big bright red letters spelling out 'DANGER' just above the symbol for north.
A sigh escaped her, one of relief. She had been dreading a more complicated lucky charm with a distracting riddle she simply didn't have time to solve. She didn't need to be a genius to figure out how this one would help her. "Looks like I have my own personal villain tracker. Perfect."
With the direction clear, that pent up energy was allowed to run free once more, carrying her down the halls, through the flames and over melting signs. Anticipation of danger around every corner kept her heart pounding. Worry that every second wasted was a second she could have used to aid her team pushed all distractions from her mind. Determination to protect an innocent child dragged into harms way hardened her muscles. Longing for the relief of an end, where she could return to her life in peace with the people she loved, turned her feet into springs.
This ended today. She was sure of it.
Ladybug dived in whatever direction the compass led her, an automated passenger hanging onto that tiny arrow like it was a life preserver. Chairs got in her way; she kicked them aside. Doors stood against her; her super strength ripped them apart. Flames slivered across hallways; she took to the ceiling to haul herself over them. Even dead ends, even walls were just obstacles for her to break over her knee and be on her way.
She smashed through a sheet of glass, tumbling off the top floor and landing inside the central strip of the shopping centre, sparing no thoughts to the razor-sharp shard raining down upon her. Everything she broke would be repaired by the fight's end. It was something she had taken a few years into her career to realize, that when your superpower undoes any of the consequence or damage of your fight, there's no real reason to limit yourself to working carefully anymore.
Taking a second to observe her surroundings, she found that this area was an escape from the cramped hallways of the backroom stores and warehouse displays. It was a large, open room where every floor in the building converged under the massive skylight. At either side, she was flanked by stores and vending machines. At her back the room curved into the entrance. At her front was the escalators leading to the upper levels.
On a normal day, she'd imagine the sight being quite warm and extravagant, alive with the energy of bustling crowds stumbling over each other to find the perfect shop. Today, it was ugly, lifeless, dilapidated. Every store was broken down, overflowing with rubble. The skylight was hidden by smoke. The world was bathed in a hellish red that overpowered any beauty you could find.
Her observations were interrupted. A sharp and percussive report echoed through the air with a distinctive bang and the screeching howl of groaning metal, quickly followed by another. Unlike last time she saw these bullets flying at her, Ladybug was wide awake and on high alert.
In a swift and agile motion, Ladybug propelled herself backwards – a choreography of evasion that unfolded in a matter of heartbeats. She arched backward with grace, her body contorting to defy the trajectory of the bullets. As the danger closed in, she noted how the twin blasts seemed to enlarge the further they went along. They were looking more like fire balls than bullets by the time they reached her position, so close to grazing her shoulders as they shot past.
She landed into a crouch just as the bullets hit the wall behind her, any poise or grace on her part dissolved under the explosion that followed. Forceful, concussive winds lashed out at her back, but didn't manage to damage her.
Of course, even if it had managed it, she was too distracted to acknowledge any pain.
He stood behind the railing of the next floor, nestled between the set of escalators, cutting a daunting height that would put her father to shame. The big, brown hat drew her eye immediately – a dusty old thing that screamed 'wild west' and lay tipped over his brow. A dark coat stretched across his figure, the seams peeling back just enough to show off a holster and a vest.
His arms stretched out far, his finger locked in a tight grip over the smoking revolvers clasped in his hands. She didn't have to worry about making out details, everything about his outfit was loud. She could even make out the gold sheriff's badge star adorned on his chest, shining like a jewel, with a butterfly symbol emblazoned upon it.
The only detail she couldn't make out was the detail that mattered, the detail that brought her here – that damn broach.
"That's far enough, little lady." The deep southern drawl bellowing over the hissing fire around them just cemented the look. Once he saw he'd gotten her attention just fine, he lowered his weapons, leaning over to get a good look at her.
She had to imagine that he was grinning something foul. There were no lips to study, no face to interpret, he was entirely covered, from head to toe, in bandages.
He tipped his hat to her. "Howdy there. I'm a big fan of yours, Bug."
She wrapped her yoyo around her arm, keeping it taught, keeping the momentum locked in to be unleashed at a moment's notice. She wanted to charge at him now, but with neither the hostage nor the broach in sight, there were too many unknown factors at work for her to risk an assault. Not when she had the opportunity to coax out a villain's need to explain themselves.
"Okay, I'll admit; I was not expecting a cowboy mummy." She shrugged, squinting up at the man. "If you want an autograph, I'm gonna need a name."
The badge is the only thing 'butterfly' related about him. Ladybug noted with a sigh. Different users came with different outfits, but the costumes always held some united resemblance, a through line of their kwami. All ladybug's had spots, all Chat Noir's were dark with kitty ears; all Hawkmoth's were purple and incorporated wings.
Had she been wrong? Was she just chasing another akuma? Her eyes fell upon to downturned pistols, trying to deduce whether the man's super power would be the explosive blasts themselves or if they were only a byproduct. Then to the badge; if he was akumatized, the akuma had to be in that badge. That much she could be sure of.
But whose to say that's his miraculous costume. A small, hopeful part of her argued back. After all, anything could be hiding under those bandages. Yeah, maybe this utter stranger put two extra layers over his miraculous costume just to mess with her.
He tilted his head to the right, bemused. For a moment, she feared he could see the inner turmoil taking place behind her eyes. "That right?"
Ladybug scoffed, "You didn't set this all up just not to tell me about your gimmick."
Without a face to give life to the silence, his stillness in that moment made him almost indistinguishable from a statue. His expression only came through in the sensation that his stare still carried, how it turned from a spiteful blaze to a hollow, cold storm prickling at her cheeks. A bitter memory he was hesitant to taste again comes through. "Folks around these here parts tend to tell me I'm something of a… 'Defect'."
Her brow creased in subtle confusion. Not the name she'd expect from a cowboy-themed villain.
"You have the power of screwing up? Impressive." Her inner Marinette wanted to protest that said superpower was already taken, but she settled for letting loose a low, unimpressed whistle.
In that moment, she made the mistake of stepping forward. She didn't know an inch of space would have been seen as so aggressive, but in that split-second, a pistol snapped up into position and unloaded.
This time, she got to witness the pinhole-sized spark morph into a meteorite of burning metal in real time. By this point, her reflexes had grown familiar with the attack. In an instant, her body was propelled sideways, as if an invisible string was wrapped around her waist and yanked her away. She should have been in the clear. However, by sheer luck of coincidence, her dodge turned her body just enough to witness the fireball rocket past her.
Only, instead of the attack colliding with the floor and detonating, it instead careened off into a complete arc that turned it right back around to face her, to continue its hunt.
The floor split into cracks from the power of her foot slamming into it, launching her into a desperate sprint across the strip. Instinctively, her body ping-ponged between directions as she moved, throwing her body forward in a zig-zag pattern. Her eyes didn't dare to leave her pursuer, even as more fire and rubble littered the road ahead, watching to see how the fireball handled sharp turns.
The fortunate thing to note was that it didn't have nearly enough slack to follow her to the letter, it had to gradually turn in a wide berth to follow her. Gaining distance wasn't a problem, but keeping that distance meant tiring herself out. Either it outlasted her, or it left her a sitting duck for Defect to swoop in.
Her salvation came in the form of a hot dog stand set up under the shade of a fake, plastic palm tree. With the grace of a ballerina, she slid into her toes, propping herself up for a moment and made a sharp turn towards the stand before springing back into action.
One hand shot ahead of her, desperately grasping at the air. The very second she grabbed something solid, the cart's handle in this instance, she used it as leverage to hoist herself upwards. Her body, and her view of the world, flipped upside down, flipping herself over the cart and tumbling behind it. She landed on her shoulder with a loud, meaty thump. Pain flashed through her, but she couldn't afford to stop.
She shuffled her body away from the cart, just enough to give her legs some space, before pulling her knees back, taught like a bow string, and then unleashing a furious kick to the underside of the cart. The cart had only a second of airtime before the fireball, and the ensuring explosion, consumed it.
Defect hadn't moved an inch by the time she got back to her feet. He could have taken an easy shot at her while she was on the ground, but for whatever reason he stayed his hand, just watching her. Either he was mocking her, or he was easily distracted.
"Wouldn't do that if I were you." He said, shrugging as if nothing had happened. "I'm a bit of a sharpshooter."
Is it really sharp shooting when you have magic to make up for your terrible aim? Ladybug thought bitterly to herself. If that is his power. She added on, more unsure than ever what exactly she was dealing with. The butterfly miraculous had nothing to do with shooting fire balls or manipulating something's trajectory. So, it had to be an akuma. But what was the power? The explosive rounds? The gun? The tracking? Some sort of telekenisis?
She gritted her teeth in frustration, more at herself than anything. There's always a through line, a theme.
She took a moment to compose herself, pushing back the doubt bubbling in her stomach so it wouldn't leak into her voice. "You're not using the butterfly," Her queries were casted out like bait, hoping to hook some sort of instinctual need to correct her, to let her know how wrong or right she was. "and you're not an akuma."
"Oh, but I am an akuma." He all too smugly took that bait without hesitation. Defect leaned down, holding up a pistol loosely, waving it as if it were a sixth finger taunting her. "In fact, I'll even let you in on something fun; I ain't even used my power yet."
Her eyes widened as her heart sank, left following the teasing movements of his pistol. Briefly, she played with the idea that he was a natural super. By the accent, he was clearly American, and the United Heroes all managed to have supernatural abilities without being related to akumas or miraculous.
What halted that thought was the pistol he was so carelessly brandishing for her to ogle, the revolver's grip held an engraving, a black circle and, within, a shape that glowed a bright yellow the longer she looked at it. The yellow formed a symbol Ladybug could just manage to make out, the head of an eagle atop what looked like the torso of a lion – a griffin head?
It took her back to the first time Monarch had managed to possess both her and Chat's miraculouses, where she, with nothing but a motorcycle helmet and a bin lid for protection, tried to reclaim the miraculous he'd stolen. Only she found that he'd broken them down, reforged the miraculouses into rings.
A part of her wanted to say that akuma's couldn't use a miraculous, but unfortunately, as her nightmares would remind her, she had a very personal example of an akuma and miraculous coming together to create utter horror. "You're using a modified miraculous?"
She knew each miraculous that had been in the miracle box, what they did and who they were currently with. And she vaguely recalled reading about the other miracle box that the eagle miraculous heralded from. This miraculous, seemingly based off of a mythical creature rather than a usual animal, had to be from a third one.
Defect followed her gaze, turning the revolver's grip up to his face, letting his thumb lovingly smooth over the symbol. "Ah, you have a good eye."
A protective instinct surged through her. Her voice dropped low, and her eyes narrowed. "Where did you get it?" Another kwami, potentially multiple if he had an entire box to himself, was bound to a horrid villain. Why couldn't the world just give those poor creatures a break?
"Now now, we all gotta keep some secrets here and there." He said, "You know all about that, don't you?"
Ladybug scoffed, "You're not the first or worst nutjob I've met. Trust me, you don't know the first thing about me."
Marinette Dupain Cheng had been Ladybug for over four years. From Hawkmoth to Monarch life-threatening, potentially world-ending threats had become her weekly routine. She may never have gotten a hang of the personal drama, but against villains, Ladybug had seen it all, fought it all, and managed to pull victory from the jaws of defeat even when all else seemed lost. Marinette was human – vulnerable and clumsy. Ladybug was so much more; a steel fortress, her greatest strength, a hero.
Ladybug was prepared for anything.
"Oh, but I think I know plenty about you."
Only, she wasn't prepared for it. Not at all. She wasn't prepared for how he chuckled. How he leaned in with his joints creaking like crushed metal. How he held the barrel of his revolver up to where his mouth would be, as if he were trying to shelter his secret words from non-existent onlookers. How his loud, hissing voice echoed in her mind like a soft whisper.
She wasn't prepared for the one word that struck the one chink in a superhero's armour.
"Marinette."
A weight settled in her stomach, sending her stumbling back with little in the way of balance. She felt bloated, she felt sick – she felt exposed. It was like a hundred eyes were suddenly watching her, unravelling the flimsy disguise of magically reinforced spandex and revealing the small, feeble little girl hiding behind it all. In that moment, even with her miraculous active, Marinette was the one that now stood before Defect. No Ladybug grace, just plain old clumsy Marinette.
She couldn't hide how her breath hitched, how her voice cracked. "I- I-… I don't know what you're talking about."
He holstered the pistol in his right hand so he could smack his hand over his heart. The voice he used was squeaky, slow, mocking, as if he were talking to a baby. "It's okay, little lady. We're safe here, it's just you and me."
Defect paused, clicking his fingers together and producing an echoing THRUM sound. He kicked himself off the railing and dropped into a crouch, his shoulders still visible as he felt around for something. "And this little slugger here, of course."
He rose back up to full height, a small form now clinging to his arm. The little girl, barely larger than the man's forearm and with skin of the most fragile porcelain, wailed. "I don't wanna play anymore! I want my mommy!"
Panic. Horror. Rage. All so potent in their own right, yet they might as well have been the same emotion in Marinette's view, her eyes now heavy, stinging and laser focused on the man above her. Now more than ever, the fire raging around her felt like kin, felt real. However, it did wonders for eradicating any doubt Marinette had stepping foot in here. Her guilt, her second-guesses, her insecurities; all eroded by pure overwhelming righteousness.
There was shame. Somehow, the little girl had managed to go unheard of and unnoticed by the hero's enhanced reflexes until she was shoved into view. But that shame only flickered briefly, there was no time for it in the face of what she needed to do.
Defect knew who she was. Defect had chained another innocent kwami. Defect was using a little girl as a human shield.
In a span of a minute, this complete stranger had rocketed himself up to the top of both Ladybug and Marinette's hitlist.
Defect adjusted his grip, the girl's body slipping down so his fingers dug into her neck. He tilted his head away, grumbling. "Oof, she had quite the set of chords on her."
"Put her down you creep!" Ladybug yelled out.
He peered down at her, shaking the child lightly to cement his wretched taunt. "You know that's not how this works, Bug. Only way she's going down is through force."
With one simple flick of the wrist, he tossed the tiny body upwards, just past his head in such a disgustingly casual manner. The girl squealed, and Ladybug's breath got caught in her throat.
Defect's howls of laughter seemed to shake the very foundations of the building, waiting until the split second before the girl hit the ground, a split second for Marinette to imagine the sickening crack of shattered porcelain, before catching her. "'Course, I reckon I can be more reasonable if you skip the heroics and just slide me over those pretty little earrings of yours."
Ladybug could do nothing but glare, everything in her body shaking, at the display as Defect held the trembling little girl against his chest. His fingers idly tapped the back of the girl's forehead, applying just enough pressure each time to be noticeable, to silently tell Marinette how easy it would be for him to crush it. "Then again, if I were you, I'd be asking myself if I could really afford to let me walk out of here alive. After all, I know where you live."
Marinette never thought herself to have a killer instinct. Even against the worst that Gabriel had to offer, the thought of the man ending up anywhere but in cuffs never crossed her mind. But this cruel display, the thought that this crazed gunmen had ready access to a whole network of non-powered, vulnerable friends and family he could use against her in any way he saw fit; it was evoking something within her.
Defect shook his head, his entire body vibrating as he laughed once more. "Ah, I'm just foolin'. You won't be leaving here alive."
For a moment, his weapon twirled between his fingers, that classic cowboy spin putting style over this demented display. And then, so suddenly that Marinette could imagine a powerful wind being unleashed, his demeanour changed. The only sound Marinette could hear anymore was the hollow ice of his voice, and the metallic click of the pistol stopping dead to point at her head. "Ain't nothing personal, you understand, but our plans require a more permanent solution to little old you. Well, on my end at least. She's a whole other story, I think."
"And what plan is that? You gonna wish for a better wardrobe?"
"Ain't it obvious?" She could imagine him grinning, "We're gonna save the world."
He fired without any more preamble.
Marinette knew how she'd win before he finished talking. Though she did take an instant to register that Defect referred to a partner, a female partner.
Diving forward, her body skidded across the floor, back towards the wreckage of the cart. She snatched up what little remains she could carry in her arms, a bundle of burnt scraps and sign pieces, and spun herself around to face the attack. By the time she laid eyes on the blast, the bullet had already grown the size of a basketball, which worked out perfect for her.
The rock felt hefty and powerful in her palm. She squeezed it tight, mouthing a silent plea that her instincts were guiding her true, before lobbing it at the fireball. At the slightest hint of resistance from the rock colliding with the bullet, the fireball unfurled, releasing the devastating explosion in mid-air, far from Marinette.
In its wake, a thick, dark smog consumed her view of Defect – just as she had theorized. "Thanks for the smokescreen, Cowboy."
She'd never felt so satisfied to hear an adult curse her out.
There was no time to celebrate, however, as she heard one shot after another go off. Marinette dashed to the side, her eyes on the closest vantage point she could pull herself to, one that would conveniently pull her into position to use the railing to shield herself from view. With her bundle of junk as her ammo, the shooting, when the shots hit close to her at least, only served as an opportunity to create more smoke clouds.
The ear-shattering racket that came with the explosions wasn't fun to listen to, but it distracted her from the wheeze of her ragged breath and, more importantly, covered up the sound of her yoyo wrapping around its target.
"Blast it all, where'd she go!?" She heard him spit as she zipped through the air, landing silently on the next level, crouched behind the railing.
For the first time in years, she found her height gave her a staggering advantage, allowing her to sprint down the exposed corridor without having to bend too far to remain hidden. All while Defect's towering form, combined with the fact that he stood out like a sore thumb while she was just another shade of red amongst a hellish sea, narrowed his field of vision for objects past his waistline.
The corridor led her out onto the floor the escalators led to, putting her directly behind Defect, whose form was darting back and forth, desperately looking for any sign of her. There would be no wasting this opportunity. Marinette casted out her yoyo line, attaching it to the railing of the next floor ahead of her.
Defect heard to loud clink of her grapple's head smacking against metal, but it was too late to stop her. With the metal line yanking her through the air, Ladybug became a spotted, red wrecking ball, descending upon the stunned villain with her fist curled and her arm held back. 'I'm right here, Blockhead!' became her battle cry as she closed the distance, throwing all her momentum, her vigour and her body behind her fist – drilling it into his head.
It was enough to send him stumbling back. It was enough to get him to drop the little girl. It was enough to give Ladybug the room she needed to hit the floor, slide past his legs and catch the girl safely in her arms.
It wasn't enough to so much as stun him, however. It had been like punching a steel wall, her knuckles barely feeling the contours of his face bend a fraction under her haymaker before force reverbed through her arm at ten times what she gave. By the time the moment had passed, and she had time to acknowledge the pain, she felt her hand throb and the bones within cry out. Punching him had hurt her more than anything.
As much as she tried to keep up a brave front, she couldn't stop herself from hissing in response. I know I've never really been the brawler type, but… Damn, I thought I would have done something.
She managed to find a sliver of calm looking down at the girl that now clung to her waist. A sigh of relief left Marinette after a quick once over, noting that the girl seemed remarkably unharmed despite Defect's rough handling. "You okay, Sweetie? Just stay behind me and I'll take care of this mean man."
Jumping to her feet, Ladybug quickly pushed the little girl behind her. Defect had his guns drawn and ready now, his coat ruffled and his bandages more unkempt and loose after her blow. Around the spot where Marinette's fist had connected, where an eye should have been, a seam had been created. It teased a patch of an unknown surface that was smooth enough to reflect the fire's glare.
"Congratulations, now you're close enough I barely have to bother aiming." There was a low hum that accompanied Defect's voice, like interference on a microphone manifesting as a growl. That at least gave her the hope she broke something.
Ladybug glared back at him, undeterred by the threat. "And close enough that detonating your special bullets would catch you in the blast too."
He shook his head. "Oh, my sweet Marinette, it's bold of you to bet the life of that little girl on me being that eager to protect myself."
She hated how he said her name. It was made to sound so patronizing, a tone undertaken to humour an ignorant child completely out of their depth. And she was powerless to defy it, her own name now a leash wrapped around her neck, choking her with nightmarish possibilities of Defect breaking down her parent's front door.
Her body twitched with every slight movement he made towards her, anticipation struggling against her internal restraints, desperate to just let loose and find some lucky way to shatter this man. "I'll ask you one more time, who are you and who's the new butterfly holder?" She growled.
He shook his head, a taunting series of tuts in his lips. "So short sighted. None of this matters to a girl who won't live to see it."
A horrid yell broke through her composure. "Answer me!"
"Or what?" One step closer, a short, quick movement like a wolf cornering their prey. It made her grip tighten until the skin of her knuckles scraped against the material of her gloves. It made her teeth grind each other into her gums. It made her stomach wretch.
He was giddy. She could see it in the extra sway to his arms as he drew closer. That was what made her hesitate to act, recognising the anticipation of a man who had one last card to throw in her face. One last detail to drop. "We both know you're no killer Miss Perfect Hero. You're a liar and a coward, but you ain't got the stomach for blood."
Defect stopped and leaned in. His voice was barely above a whisper. "You couldn't even put down Gabriel after all he's done. He had to do the deed himself."
Marinette's voice trembled, every modicum of power she'd ever held dissipating, "N-No… You couldn't possibly know that."
A sharp, mocking gasp escaped him. He put two fingers over where his mouth should have been, feigning innocence. "Oops, was that supposed to be a secret?"
Her stomach sank at the realization: He knew everything about her, and she knew nothing about him. Any advantage she'd thought she held when walking into this trap had been exposed and ripped apart.
Her next action took exactly six seconds.
She acted fast, both body and mind acting on pure desperation as she launched herself upwards with her yoyo in hand. With speed as the guaranteed attribute, she outclassed Defect in, she had her yoyo secured around his neck before he could act. There was no delusion that she could choke the man, at least not before he could retaliate, but the neck still worked as a vulnerable point, where sudden pressure could get the whole body stumbling for the very moment she needed.
Her journey didn't stop behind him, she didn't hit the ground, instead she had thrown herself up with enough momentum that she was carried further. The moment Defect had gained his wits and reached up to pull at the wire around his throat was the same moment she dived head-first over the railing, her combined weight and momentum making for a powerful, and sudden, pull when she reached the end of her yoyo's restrained length. The combination of power, surprise and exploitation was just enough to outweigh the benefits of his strength, yanking him back, throwing him off kilter enough for his immense size, and thus his immense weight, to take over.
Ladybug steadied herself against the wall at the end of her wire, pressing her feet flat against it and arching the rest of her body back – waiting. Gazing up, she bore witness to Defect's heavy body crashing through the side of the railing. In the split second before he plummeted past her, she unfurled her line, snatching it from around his neck and ensuring she wasn't dragged down with him. In the next second, she latched onto what remained of the railing, scaling the wall back up to the top.
Throughout it all, her shoulder screamed, feeling like dozens of thin, fleshy threads holding together her bones and snapping with every stunt. But she couldn't let up, she didn't have time to dawdle. Dropping Defect was by no means a victory or a crushing blow, it was a stalling tactic against an obstacle she wasn't sure she could face anymore. The only course of action she could trust in right now was protecting the little girl and getting back to her team.
The little girl was silent, almost unmoving, by the time Marinette had pulled herself back up. As if she were on pause. Marinette chalked it up to shock, scooping the girl up in her arms and sprinting ahead just as she heard Defect's pistols ring out. She didn't need to turn and watch for the bullets; they weren't aiming for her this time. Instead, she heard their journey continue upwards. She heard the roar of their impact against the ceiling. She heard everything crumble.
Her enhanced reflexes were the only reason she was able to react in time, tucking the child tightly into her chest and contorting her body to make the best meat shield before an avalanche of concrete, metal and fire collapsed in their wake. The impact shook the world around her, creating a shockwave that blasted her off her feet, desperately shielding the little girl from their landing.
It didn't stop. Whatever Defect hit, it set off a chain reaction. Floor panels caved in on themselves, walls exploded into a hail of rubble around her, glass shattered, and the sky continued to rain brimstone down upon her. She didn't have time to answer the cries of her joints, didn't have time to pull out the shrapnel embedded in her back, she could only push herself to her feet, thank her lucky stars that the little girl was unharmed and quiet, and continue running.
Just as she returned to the maze of halls and shopfronts, the speaker system crackled to life. "You know it's funny." Defect's voice was distorted, barely understandable, but it broke through the deafening cries of a structure on the brink of collapse. He was relentless, he was everywhere. "You've kept a cool head through all of this, even when a child's life was in danger, but me mentioning your little secret? Something that might stain that perfect little reputation of yours? Ooo, now you're cracking."
The damage to the building did have the side effect of widening the once narrow corridors, even turning previous dead ends into makeshift ramps between floors. When she first entered the building, Marinette would have found the thought relieving, that it would give her more space to breathe. However, now she could only see more room as more places for Defect to come at her from. He had the run of the place; he didn't care about destabilizing the building and his strength and firepower could easily carve out any path through. And, as the aches and cracks of today's events began to catch up with her, she wasn't sure if she could manage to outrun him if he did appear again.
Her lungs struggled to breathe, ever few gasps leading to a dry cough spitting a chalky substance back into the air. She found herself coming to a stop by a vending machine to catch her breath. There were no windows, only more walls, more rubble, more holes, and nothing to tell her if she were any closer to finding the outside world.
Wait, he can't sneak up on me. Marinette suddenly realized, popping open her yoyo and pulling her lucky charm out from it's magical storage link. The compass looked out of place in her palm, so pristine and spotless contrasted with the dust and bruises covering her suit like a second layer of skin. It pointed south of her and, surprisingly enough, wasn't moving. What's he waiting for?
"Ladybug, can you hear us?" Viperion's voice was so sudden and so clear in her ear that Ladybug had to bite down on her lips to keep herself from yelling in surprise.
Marinette stood in silence for a moment just staring down at her bugphone, her weary mind having to play catch up before she realized the voices were real and that she'd managed regain reception. Did that mean she was closer to the outside than she thought?
"What's happening in there?" Chat's voice wasn't as even as Viperion's, a breathless edge making his worry clear.
Ladybug's lip wobbled, a desperate whine leaking into her voice. Just knowing Chat was there, even if not physically, made her tempted to drop the hero act and fall apart. "He… He knows everything."
"Mar- Ladybug!" She heard Rena gasp, "Who knows what?"
"Guy calls himself Defect." She breathed in, slow and hard, looking to the little girl and telling herself that she needed to be strong for her. "He's… He's not the new Hawkmoth, but he's working with her. Sounds like they're partners. And he's using a miraculous of his own, one I haven't seen in any of Master Fu's notes. Derives from a Griffin or something."
Chat sharply exhaled from his nose, she could just imagine his fingers pressing against his temple, his nose all scrunched up with worry. "Milady, you don't sound too good."
"I'm…" She sighed, "I'm not doing too good. I got the kid, but Defect got the drop on me."
"You need to keep moving." Pagasus piped up, a heavy weariness to his voice. "The structural integrity of the shopping centre has been compromised. It's going to come down on your head if you don't get out of there."
"Could really do with a portal right now, Pegasus," said Ladybug.
"Oh! Right."
It was as silent as it could be for Marinette, experiencing the next few seconds in slow motion, listening to the prolonged shuffling of Pegasus' costume as he prepared to voyage right to her. Only, the portal never came. Instead, there was a gasp, a swear word that died on the tongue and a wet, squelch that accompanied to building shaking once more.
"Damn it! Slime Boy has Pegasus!" Cried out Carapace.
"Milady?" Chat's voice sounded quiet in relation to everything else.
Ladybug sighed, but otherwise didn't hesitate to give the order. "Focus on the akuma, Kitty. Save Pegasus." It took some effort to push herself off the comfort of the wall, placing all the pressure back on her aching ankles. "The moment it's dealt with, we can fix everything. I'll be fine; a little fire is nothing."
She paused, sucking in air until her lips were a tight thin line. "Just… Keep talking to me, okay?" She hated sounding so weak, so vulnerable, when she was in costume. But she wasn't in a condition where she could afford to be prideful about it. She was so used to Chat never being far from her side. His physical absence felt like a void hovering next to her.
Feeling the smaller body in her arms shift, Ladybug crouched down, placing the little girl in front of her. All things considered; the girl was surprisingly calm. Wide blue eyes stared back at Marinette through long dark locks, her lips parted in more innocent curiosity than anything else. Marinette was expecting more trembling, more tears, more signs of an upcoming break down.
Gently, Marinette reached out and swept the girl's fringe aside. "Are you alright, Sweetie? We're getting out of here."
The girl's face suddenly broke out into a wide grin, booping Marinette's nose with a childish, gleeful giggle. "Beep Beep! Hehe."
Marinette flinched. In stark contrast to the boiling heat of the environment, the girl's touch was as cold as ice. "Uh, yeah. Keep calm and…" She gave a half-hearted thumbs up. "Keep beeping?"
Another giggle before the girl raised her arms up, eagerly demanding for Ladybug to pick her up again. "Beep beep! Hehe."
Marinette hesitated but acquiesced with a forced smile. Did the girl not understand the danger they were in now that she was with a superhero? The Ladybug name must have more power than Marinette gave it credit for. "Let's get you out of here, okay?"
The two continued down the winding hallways, careful, but rushed. Ladybug kept the little girl balance on her right arm, tucked under her chin and out of sight. In her free hand, she kept the compass in easy view, taking sharp turns in the opposing direction of Defect, every turn playing out in her mind as a slow reveal of more corridors with no end in sight.
The problem she found was how mobile Defect had suddenly become. The pointer of the compass moved in awkward, delayed sweeps with every turn she took, as if every step Defect was just out of sight, nipping at her heels. It got to the point that she herself started to mimic the movement, becoming twitchy and erratic, snapping her head back and forth to scan each potential entry point three or four times over.
What both relieved her one second and scared her the next was that the direction was generally consistent – it never stopped pointing roughly behind her. She spun around, hoping to catch that loud, lurching form in the act despite how impossible it would be for him to sneak, but nothing. She'd find her eyes trained on the ceiling, waiting to hear his aggressive footsteps scraping against the upper floors, but nothing.
Her grip on the compass tightened, her mind trying to make sense of it all. Was the lucky charm malfunctioning? She'd never had one out for this long before. Was it mistaking tracking Defect for the speakers he was using?
Nothing. Nothing. She was getting nothing.
"Mirage!" Rena's voice brought her back into focus, pushing the nagging thoughts aside. "Let's see if Slime Boy takes the bait."
"Have you guys found the akumatized object yet?" Marinette asked.
Carapace's voice phased out between his grunts of effort, his boots loudly slapping against the ground in a desperate sprint. "It's some watch trapped under the ooze. Like the real fancy kind."
Marinette ducked through another destroyed door, picturing the layers upon layers of sickly green tendrils piling on top of the watch, dragging it just out of reach of the heroes. "Carapace, how does your shield hold up against the slime?"
"Cuts through it like butter, Duddette!" Carapace replied, and she could practically see him giving her an 'okay' hand signal.
"Think you can throw it at the watch?"
He gave a sharp, giddy whistle, as if he'd been waiting all day for her to tell him to do it. "On it, Ladybug!"
For the next few minutes, the sounds of a battle she'd never witness became a calming tune. Every grunt of effort, every wet squelch of the slime shifting around, every scrape of concrete being torn apart, and every desperate one liner was a comfort. A reminder that they were all still out there, still fighting, and waiting for her.
Chat's voice, even when distressed, soothed her racing heart to no end. "You still there, Bug?"
She let out a dry, half-hearted laugh, cautiously climbing down another hole created by the collapsed ceiling. "Yeah, just lost… I swear this place is a safety inspector's worse nightmare."
"You're okay." Chat's tone was inconsistent, a constant battle between the light-hearted casual attitude a hero and the comforting, straight forward seriousness of a concerned friend. She didn't know which she preferred more right now. "Worse comes to worse, I'll cataclysm the entire building to get you."
"I know you will." It was the most certain she'd sounded the entire day. She doubted her ability to tell Adrien what mattered, she doubted her ability to give her classmates a good send off, she doubted so damn much about this situation; but she'd never doubt her partner's commitment.
That's why she paused, realizing how her fears still bubbled through, and how much that fear probably felt like acid on Chat Noir's heart. She couldn't squash those fears, she knew that, but perhaps she could share the weight, ease both their pains with some truth; even if she was hesitant to admit it.
Defect knew a lot of things he shouldn't. And God knows what else he knew. Was he there that day, the day Monarch fell? Did he have access to everything Gabriel had, everything she had never thought to destroy? Gabriel had figured out the identity of all her temp, and now permanent, holders. Were they now all compromised? Could he know who Chat was?
She should have known better, she told herself, should have covered her tracks better. She thought she'd planned for everything. How many people had she put in danger through her failures?
Quietly, as if her volume would somehow stop the others from hearing it over the comms, she spoke. "Chat… He knows who I am. He knows everything."
And without missing a beat, Chat scoffed.
"Yeah? Well, I know who you are too." His voice was direct, loud, clear and passionate. It made her heart stop. "You're Ladybug, and no wild west fan boy is gonna keep you down."
She couldn't help the warmth spreading across her cheeks. She was Ladybug, and she wasn't alone. Not now. Not ever. Whatever happens, whatever the aftermath, whatever mistakes come back to bite them; they'll face it together.
"Right. I know."
"What's he doing now?"
Marinette's gaze fell back on the compass, the prior quandary bubbling up to the surface again. She frowned. "Don't know, really. Either he lost track of me, or he's watching me sweat for the fun of it."
She made another turn when Viperion suddenly screamed in her ear.
"Ladybug!" He cried out, as if he'd just awoken from a nightmare, slick with a cold sweat. "You're about to come to a cross-section. The right path ends with your getting crushed."
The bluntness of his delivery made her stop in her tracks, even hearing a low 'Steady on there, Snake Boy' from Alya.
What the hell was he- Oh. Right. Second Chance.
"Sometimes I forget how morbid second chance can be." She shook her head with heavy sigh. "Anything else I should know?"
Viperion's breathing was slowing down, but still uncomfortably loud over the communicator. "The section behind you is gonna collapse in about a minute or two; as long as you keep up the pace, you shouldn't be in danger."
That was enough to light a fire under her butt, her body instinctively springing forward with the creaks of the building overhead now ten times more worrying to hear. "Got it. How are we doing on the watch?"
Carapace buzzed in with a sting of low, grumbling swears followed by the sound of, what she presumed to be, his shield hitting a hard, metal and not slime-based at all surface. "Slime Boy's catching on, keeps moving the watch, but I'll get it." She imagined his face contorting into an unhinged, almost cartoonish glare as he chased down his slippery foe.
Sooner than she thought, she heard a wet splash, a familiar roar and then the sound of glass shattering. Nino was screaming like his soccer team had just scored the winning goal. "Bullseye! Suck it, ya slimy little snot monster!"
That's one problem dealt with. She sighed, relief filling her heart up like a balloon, a new weightless sensation taking hold. A sensation that bloomed into full blown joy where she squinted through the smog and flames, glimpses a beam of light, light that burned her now dark-accustomed eyes to gaze at, but natural light all the same. Sunlight. "I see the back entrance!"
All she needed to do was get out there, purify the akuma and then they could undo all this damage. Defect would probably get away, not wanting a confrontation with the full team, but at least everyone would get out unharmed. This day was salvageable. Maybe she'd get through that graduation ceremony after all.
"You're gonna be ok-" She started to crane her neck downward to check on the little girl, only even before her eyes reached her destination, she realized that she no longer felt the weight of the child in her arms.
Spinning around, she found the little girl back by what remained of the stairs, sitting down with her knees pulled up against her chest. Marinette blinked, trying to think of when the hell the girl had slipped away.
She shook her head. That wasn't important right now, was it?
"Uh, little girl? Come on now, it's not safe here." Putting on her best smile, she reached out for the girl.
"Beep Beep!" The girl recoiled at her approach, the grin dropping into a fearful frown. "I did a bad thing."
Ladybug bit her lip, anxiety bubbling as she heard the ceiling groan, dust and stone chunks raining down around them. "I'm sure you won't get into trouble; your mom and dad will just be relieved to see you."
Pegasus loudly gasped for air, probably just released from the slime's prison. "Slime's dissolving."
"Pegasus is out cold." Said Rena.
"He's had a rough day." Viperion laughed, "We all have."
The girl grinned again. Wide, pure, happy; and completely at odds with everything. "Heh Heh. Beep Beep! I did a bad thing."
Rena spoke up just as Marinette was crouching down beside the girl. "Is that the kid?"
"Yeah. She really likes beeping." Marinette gently tugged on the girl's arm, trying to urge her to move, but being careful not to be too forceful. "It's kind of creepy." She added quietly.
"Come on now, we have to go-"
A sickening crack was all she heard, a chorus of cracking and splintering that drowned out all other sounds. Support beams snapped like brittle bones, and sections of drywall crumbled into deadly confetti. The cascade of debris rained down, fragments of stone and plaster dancing in chaotic disarray, feeding into haphazard hills stealing away the glimmer of sunshine she'd just grasped.
"Ladybug! Can you hear me?!" Chat's voice didn't come out of the communicator this time, it was faint, carried only by his desperation, from the other side of the debris threatening to burry them inside the building.
"We're in here! Help!" She cried out, every panicked thought returning in full force. Her fingers felt like they were being fed through a cheese grater, scraping uselessly at the wall of rubbles, digging into fractured rocks and disjoined polls and pulling them out with no effect. "Chat, I think we're gonna need a cataclysm here."
Realizing her efforts on this end were futile, she returned to the little girl. Grasping her firmly by the shoulders with no patience to be gentle this time. "Don't be scared, Sweetie. Just come with me, I'll save you."
The little girl did not move. She did not simply refuse to move, she wasn't being difficult; she did not move. When Ladybug, superhero with enhanced strength, pulled on the average man, there was no resistance. The little girl, however, might as well have been nailed to the floor, not even flinching at being yanked.
Marinette's brain was far too occupied to find this strange, instead she could only feel how frustrating it was. Against her better judgement, she growled, patience completely drained. "God damn it, get up!"
But the girl just kept saying "Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep."
It was becoming less a fun little noise, and more like a chant.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"You look like you're in quite the pickle, little lady."
She didn't see Defect himself, more so his shadow defying the flames and consuming both of them. He was at the top of the stairway, not even standing at the ready, his shape was leaning, casually, against something.
Despite her frustration, Ladybug didn't hesitate to jump up and put herself between the villain and the child. "Stay away from her!"
Defect didn't move. He didn't look at her. He made that tutting sound again, that excited little note that said he knew exactly how this was all gonna go down. "Oh, I won't be touching a hair on her pretty little head." He took off his hat, pressing it against his chest. It was almost respectful, a deary gesture you'd associate with respect in the face of a recent tragedy. "I tried to tell ya; you lost this battle the moment you stepped foot in here."
He clasped his hands together. No weapon. No aggression. He didn't need it anymore.
"Miss Rossi sends her regards."
And then he left.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The little girl continued. Like a wail
Marinette's body froze, that terrible, agonizing feeling of a piece missing, of a mistake she didn't know she made, consuming her. "I don't understand." Why would Defect follow her without finishing the job?
"I'm coming, Milady!" Chat cried.
Right, Chat. Her partner. Just a couple of seconds and he'd be here to save them. Defect probably knew that, he was scared of her bringing in back up.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Like an alarm.
So why did that thought fill her with dread? Why was every bone in her body screaming at her to keep Chat away? What was she missing here?
Tikki. Tikki was trying to tell her something, trying to warn her about something. She assumed it was Defect, it had to be Defect.
"Wait, the compass." Marinette clutched the compass to her chest, her voice caught in her throat as she gazed down.
That wasn't right.
"Ladybug! Where are you?"
It had to be broken.
"Can you hear us?"
The pointer, it was still directed behind her. She was facing where Defect left, and it was still pointing behind her. Was it pointing at the rubble that was going to suffocate her? Was that what Tikki was trying to tell her, that the collapsing building was dangerous?
The compass wasn't pointing at the man, it was pointing at… Her? No, it was pointing behind her. It wasn't pointing at Defect, it wasn't pointing at her, and it most certainly couldn't be pointing at Chat.
"Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep."
The compass was, and had always been, pointing at the little girl.
The little girl whose skin was starting to glow.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The beeping little girl.
Marinette couldn't help the sob that escaped her as she swung around, screaming herself hoarse. "Stop! Everyone, get out of here! Run away!" Chat couldn't get here. No one could get here. They were in danger, everyone near her was in danger.
Not when the little girl was here. Beeping. Beeping like a bomb.
"She's not a little girl, she's a senti-"
She knew it was Chat screaming.
And yet in that moment, it sounded so much like Adrien.
"Marinette! MARINETTE!"
Chat's scream, a primal wail of horror and disbelief, shattered her heart in two. It was the last thing she heard. The last thing she'd ever hear.
Why did he call me Marinette?
Before pain she couldn't hope to comprehend – pain that blew out her nervous system, the pain of every little knot tying her body together popping and ripping her open – consumed her.
Unfortunately for Paris, the day that Ladybug died was only the beginning…
Present
It was haunting how undisturbed his atelier was. Sure, a fresh layer of dust dulled the checkerboard patterns, his drawing pad had long since defunct and Emilie's painting had faded to time, but somehow, he could tell that his absence had been the only thing to touch this room in quiet a while. It wasn't simply abandoned, it was empty. It always had been empty.
The wide sweeping windows that used to fill the room with natural sunlight at the perfect angle now offered nothing more than twinkles, thin beams of a darker, purple colour peaking past boards that had been nailed to the outside.
Pushing out into the main hall, his mind was almost hollow, just a machine marching towards his destination. While the basement had crumbled under a lack of care, there was evidence of intentional damage up here. Shattered glass outlining rocks chucked through the upper windows, pages from his design journal torn apart and strew across the stairs, burn marks splattered across the walls, and writing too small and too messy to be read staining his paintings.
Something quiet in the back of his head told him that he should be feeling something, some hesitance at what had changed, some apprehension or offence at his home falling to ruin. He should feel some sense of loss. And yet, he couldn't find it in him. The mess was annoying, nothing more. The emptiness, the lack of warmth, the sense that something was simply missing; that had been there long before his demise. This hadn't been a home for a long time, Gabriel had made sure of that.
To his silent horror, he realized that nothing had really changed for him. The house was always in tatters, it was simply that it's look accurately reflected that.
He continued his trek down the stairs, noting that the shaking and overhead noises had long since past him. The only thing that occupied his ears were the wailings of the house's foundation and his own breath choking out of him in a pathetic wheeze. Climbing up the depth of the elevator shaft in complete darkness had been a lengthy, exhausting endeavour. Trapped in a narrow space, his long legs twisting at odd angels to fit, where every inch was his hands fumbling in the dark while his other gripped him in place for dear life; it was an honest miracle he managed to survive.
Reaching the foot of the staircase, he instinctively looked back. Even in the dim, almost non-existent, lighting, the top still managed to have a fair share of the violet light illuminating it. A spotlight over where he would regularly stand as a looming figure, glaring down at Adrien and any other visitor, as anyone below him. The stairs were the bridge between his domain and the door to the outside world, to Adrien's escape, and he stood as a tyrant in the centre of it, ensuring Adrian's moments of freedom were always fleeting.
He gritted his teeth and shook his head, marching down that very escape route now, trying to stop himself from recalling Adrien, from remember all those downtrodden looks he'd instinctively block from his memory before. It was all coming back to him all too late, and he hated it.
For good or for ill, the sight that greeted him when he heaved the double doors open was enough to push those thoughts to the back of his mind.
Paris was always ugly for Gabriel, but now? Paris looked rotten.
The walls once encircling his property had been torn down, the bricks, the grass, the trees, all layers of the gardens had been uprooted, the pavement stripped bare and exposing a putrid, wet underbelly that bled a repugnant purple ooze. The street that connected the mansion to the rest of the world was fragmented, brickwork eroded, lines of plumbing exposed and spewing dark thick bile.
Entire buildings leaned on their sides, barely held together by moss and dead plant life wrapped around them like a mouldy chan. Further down the street, he could glimpse entire blocks of his surroundings split apart, segmented and pushed away by gaping chasms and jagged crystals stabbed in-between. Some segments rose high above him, standing atop pale rock formations, while other sank so far below he could barely spot their chimney's puffing out clouds wrapped in what looked like electricity.
Any colour had been drained, minimized, until they were a drab, duller shade. Any signs, any recognisable characteristics had been scrubbed clean, leaving legions of blank spaces and missing art. Not even the litter or rabble had been preserved, the streets were broken, but sterile, clean; empty. It was as if all life had been sucked from Paris.
However, what unnerved Gabriel was what hung above him. There was no sun, no moon, just the various shades of putrid purple that formed a nightmarish miasma that stretched over the horizon. At first, he thought it was a collection of thick, polluted smog taking over the skyline, but then his ears tuned in to the chorus of low pounding noise he'd been hearing since he opened the door.
It was a familiar sound, not in memory, but simply in instinct. A sound that his very soul recognised. The intense, furious beating of wings. Above him was pollution indeed, but not of the industrial or chemical kind. It was thousands, perhaps millions of little butterflies, little akumas, consuming the world.
They all spread outwards from one singular direction, to the towering monolith that peaked over the rim of the disjointed landmasses and buildings. Gabriel stumbled forward, an unfamiliar horror settling in his chest as he scrambled atop the pile of rubble that used to be his wall. From there he could see the colossal structure more clearly, glimpsing it through the narrow frame of two tall buildings that twisted away from each other, forming 'n' shapes as if they were made of rubber and not brick.
He recognised part of it as the Eiffel Tower. A once proud landmark, only now it was corrupted. A collection of rusted, shattered metal fragments that were held together by the same purple sludge consuming the rest of the land, thick, gargantuan plant-like tendrils acting as a thread that fed this sludge through every crevice of the foundation. Atop it, a cocoon almost as big as the tower itself, with veins covering it surface, emerged like a malignant tumour.
The structure pulsated, throbbed. It was as if it were breathing.
"This… This isn't Paris." Gabriel could barely speak above a quiet hiss, every syllable scraping a rusty nail over his vocal chords. "This is a nightmare, a distressing illusion."
For the first time since Emilie was falling still and silent in his arms, he felt himself trembling. The sight wasn't simply terrible, it was something that called to his very core, a sensation that inherently made him know that what he was seeing was wrong, an abomination twisting nature.
"I've fallen, haven't I? Fallen to the bottom." He pressed his palm against his sweating forehead, eyes rapidly blinking. "Is this the plane of existence where the souls of the damned and vile are sequestered? Have my deeds brought me to the devil's kingdom?"
He was so preoccupied with this revelation that he didn't hear the doors burst open again. He didn't hear the squelching, rushed footsteps advancing upon him. He didn't hear the unrestrained sobs turn into feral growls.
He did, however, feel the brutal, blunt impact of the metal pipe caving in the back of his skull.
His body crumbled easily, crashing into the cold mud with blood dripping down his cheeks and fire consuming his head.
Above him, a young woman's voice half snarled and half cried, "What did you do!?"
The pain burned out both his will and ability to speak, leaving him only to moan incomprehensible gibberish that pleaded for something to understand. All he received was a violent kick, with enough force that the toe digging into his shoulder managed to push him onto his back, leaving him staring upwards.
At first, everything was a blur. Just multiple smudged, dark colours forming utter nonsense he couldn't comprehend. His attacker was only distinct because of the brighter colour scheme her shapeless form held.
Soon enough, however, his senses trudged back to him, his sight narrowing to a more manageable focus. Long blue curls were thick with mud and tangled, becoming ratty, unwashed strings. Once innocent and eager bluebell eyes narrowed with a desperate, alien, fury that struggled to overcome an overwhelming despair. A familiar and striking outfit combination Gabriel would have once praised had been reduced to torn up, fading rags.
Marinette Dupain Cheng slammed her foot down on Gabriel's chest, her metal pipe positioned like a blade over his throat. Her eyes fought back tears, her breath struggled not to choke her, and her hands trembled under the weight of the very real weapon she readied to bludgeon an already broken man.
The only stability was in her voice, the ice-cold sting enhanced by the accusing tone. "What. Did. You. Do."