World On Fire: No More Heroes

by DrTwit

Marinette never thought there'd come a time where her only ally was Hawkmoth, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Three years after his death, Gabriel Agreste awakens to a Paris ruled by akumas and no heroes left to defend it. To save his son, and perhaps even his soul, he must team up with his arch nemesis, Ladybug, to save a future built by their mistakes.

44. The Need For Unlicensed Speed

Present

Everything came as a blur to Marinette. From Roth's men blowing open the front doors to Gabriel screaming for her to run, it was all just a rush of movements and colours with the occasional word caught by her ear. Her body and mouth moved without thought, without reason, just clinging to instinct to carry her to somewhere clear.

By the time she came back to reality she was clinging to Chaplin's neck, barely registering Alec's body wildly flailing behind her just to stay on. The lizard sentimonster was far more nimble than she remembered, though maybe that was just because gun shots nipping at his heels made for a far better motivation than chasing down two confused, defenceless little humans.

Marinette risked a glance over her shoulder, her heart sinking as she caught a glimpse of Roth's men in pursuit. Shadows danced on the walls, growing larger as their hunters closed in. The cold, sterile light of their flashlights slashed through the haze of dust, seeking them out. It was fortunate for them that the hunters were clearly not used to working with the sentiknights, the two groups stumbling over each other as 95 and 96 desperately fought to be at the front.

In any other situation, she'd allow herself to laugh when 95, not really knowing his own strength when dealing with humans, accidentally punted XY through a window.

Alec yelped, nearly sliding off Chaplin's back as the sentimonster banked sharply to the left. Marinette instinctively reached back, gripping his arm to steady him, her eyes fixed forward. She couldn't let herself think about Gabriel, about Juleka, about the others they'd left behind. If she stopped to think, she'd break—and she couldn't afford that right now.

The lizard sentimonster hissed sharply, the sound lost into the night as they finally broke through the entrance. Marinette clung tighter, whispering, "Come on, Chaplin. Just a little farther…" Her words weren't a command; they were a prayer.

It was clear to her that Chaplin would not be able to outrun the goon squad forever, they would be able to close the distance and, with how clear and narrow the surroundings are, there would be little to protect Marinette and Alec from gunfire. They needed the Task Force truck, and they needed it now.

She heard the dull crack of something flying over her head, but she didn't dare raise herself to look at it, letting the distant yells paint her a pretty picture of a shot too close. "We need to go down the river bank, Boy." She murmured, hearing only the slightest gurgle of a response. "The other side of the lake. You see that glint in the distance? That's the car."

With her hands clinging to the creature's neck just to keep her upright, Marinette opted to use her chin to stroke down Chaplin's spine. "I know it's a lot of distance to cover, but you can do it. If even that old meanie Hawkmoth can vouch for you, I know you can do anything."

Another shot rang out, and Alec yelped behind her, ducking low against Chaplin's back.

"We're almost there," Marinette soothed, though her own voice was raw with fear. She leaned forward, pressing her cheek to Chaplin's cool scales. Chaplin let out a growl, his pace quickening as if he understood her words. Marinette closed her eyes, trusting him completely, her whispered prayers melding with the pounding of his claws on the earth.

Chaplin hissed, his claws digging into the earth with renewed determination as the chaos behind them faded into an echo of shouts and gunfire. Ahead, the hunters' parked cars loomed like a blockade, but Chaplin didn't slow. Instead, with a mighty burst of strength, the sentimonster leapt.

For a moment, Marinette and Alec were weightless, their stomachs lurching as Chaplin soared over the hoods of the vehicles. They landed hard on the other side, the sound of metal scraping against claws blending with the hunters' furious shouts. The chase wasn't over, not yet.

Mud and swampland stretched endlessly before them, the same treacherous terrain they had trudged through hours earlier, now a blur beneath Chaplin's speeding frame. Every step sent water splashing in wild arcs, the thick muck clinging to his legs as he pushed forward without hesitation.

"There!" Marinette cried, her voice barely audible over the howling wind and the distant crack of another gunshot. The truck came into view, a hulking, lumbering deployment vehicle that looked like it had been ripped straight out of a war zone. "The Buggy!" she declared with a burst of hope, the nickname slipping out in her desperation.

Chaplin closed the distance in record time, skidding to a stop just shy of the truck. Marinette scrambled off his back, her legs wobbling beneath her. "Alec, the ramp!" she shouted.

Alec was already moving, slamming his fist against the button to release the ramp. With a groaning creak, it lowered, and Marinette grabbed hold of Chaplin's reins, tugging him forward. "Come on, boy! We're almost there!"

The sentimonster hesitated for a fraction of a second, his massive body trembling with exhaustion, but Marinette's insistent pull and Alec's panicked gestures were enough to spur him onward. Together, the three of them scrambled into the truck's cavernous interior, the ramp barely closing behind them before Marinette and Alec threw themselves into the driver's seat.

Alec's hands fumbled with the ignition, his foot slamming onto the pedal as the Buggy roared to life. The tires spun for a moment in the slippery mud before catching traction, and the vehicle lurched forward, sending Marinette and Alec jerking in their seats.

Marinette barely had time to buckle herself in when a flash of light caught her eye. Headlights.

"They're catching up!" she yelled, twisting in her seat to see the approaching glow of the hunters' cars.

Alec muttered obscenities, his knuckles white as they gripped the wheel. He pressed harder on the accelerator, the truck groaning in protest as it surged ahead.

Behind them, the headlights grew brighter, closer, the roar of engines joining the relentless patter of rain. Marinette's heart pounded in her chest as she glanced at Chaplin, who had collapsed into the corner of the cabin, his sides heaving with exhaustion.

"Don't worry," she awkwardly laughed as if it would make her sound any more confident. "We'll get through this. We have to."

The ride over had been a little shaky, but now that they were roaring onto the destroyed main road at full pounce, Marinette was a grain of rice being shaken in a jar. Every turn the entire truck violently heaved in whichever direction Alec guided it. She clung to the dashboard for dear life, her knuckles white as she braced herself against the unpredictable jerks of the truck.

"Alec!" she shouted, her voice cracking as the Buggy heaved to the left, nearly tipping onto two wheels. "Are you trying to shake us loose?!"

"Would you rather I slow down and let those guys catch up?" Alec shot back, his focus locked on the road—or what was left of it.

Behind them, the roar of engines was a constant reminder that the hunters were still hot on their trail. The truck wasn't made for speed, and the narrow path ahead was littered with debris, forcing Alec to swerve and weave with every turn.

Marinette's stomach churned as the Buggy hit a particularly nasty pothole, sending her airborne for a split second before slamming her back into her seat. "We're going to tip over at this rate!"

"Relax, I've got this!" Alec grinned, though the twitch in his jaw suggested he was anything but confident. "We're fine. Everything's fine."

A glance in the side mirror made Marinette's heart skip a beat. The hunters' headlights were gaining ground, their beams bouncing wildly as their cars fought the same broken terrain.

Marinette tightened her grip on the door handle, sparing a glance at Chaplin, who had curled into the corner of the truck's cabin. His sides rose and fell with labored breaths, his exhaustion evident. "This is a military truck, you sure we don't have any hidden defences or something?"

"I just drive the car, I don't know jack about what's in it!"

Her mind raced, searching for something—anything—that might give them an edge. "We need to slow them down," she muttered, half to herself.

"We're fine. We're so fine." Alec chanted.

Something hit the rear of the truck, something that came with a roaring BOOM that left the truck swerving around a corner while the two were yanked forward by gravity.

"We are dead. We are so dead." Alec squealed.

"Don't worry," Marinette shouted over the roaring engine and pounding rain. "We're in a souped-up tank, and we've got miles of cover to go through. I'm sure we can lose them if we don't lose our heads!"

"I'm not talking about them! I'm talking about the resistance!" Alec yelped, his voice cracking with panic. "They're gonna kill us! We've lost the most dangerous man in Paris and Jagged Stone's daughter; the only question is who'll get to us first!"

"Let's focus on living long enough to find out!" Marinette snapped, gripping the dashboard as the truck hit another bump, her stomach lurching.

"Right, right…" Alec muttered, his nerves barely held together.

"Do we have an escape route?" Marinette asked, her voice sharp as she scanned the darkness ahead.

"Get the map out of the glove box!" Alec barked, sparing a hand to gesture at the compartment.

Marinette fumbled for the latch, yanking out a crumpled map and flattening it against her thigh. Her eyes darted over the marks and scribbles. "What do all these X's mean?"

"Drop points!" Alec said, glancing at the rearview mirror to watch the hunters closing in. "Places we can ditch the car and get back into the sewers that lead to the base. We just need to get far enough to lose these creeps and then hide the car!"

"Great plan," Marinette deadpanned, her fingers tracing the closest marked X. "Assuming we don't get blown to pieces first!"

The truck jolted again as another explosion shook the road behind them, sending shards of asphalt and mud flying past the windows. Alec cursed under his breath, weaving the Buggy around another sharp turn, the headlights of their pursuers hot on their tail.

And then, suddenly, it stopped just as they hit the shelter of a tunnel.

For a moment, everything seemed to settle—no gunshots, no explosions, just the hum of the Buggy tearing through the ruined road.

She risked a glance at Alec, who briefly met her gaze. "Do you think…" she started, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think we lost them?"

Alec didn't answer immediately. He kept his eyes on the road, scanning for any signs of their pursuers. The silence between them stretched thin, broken only by the rhythmic sloshing of rain against the windshield.

Then came the knock.

It was faint, almost gentle, but it sent an ice-cold shiver down Marinette's spine. Both she and Alec whipped their heads toward the sound. The knock had come from the passenger-side window.

Marinette frowned, squinting through the rain-smeared glass, but all she saw was darkness and the faint blur of their reflection. She turned to Alec, her confusion mirrored in his wide-eyed expression.

"What in the god damn?" Alec whispered, his knuckles going pale as he tightened his grip on the wheel.

Another knock.

Marinette's breath hitched. Against her better judgment, she reached for the manual window crank. "What are you doing?" Alec hissed, his voice rising in panic.

"Checking," she replied, though the hesitation in her voice betrayed her.

"Checking for what?" Alec snapped. "A polite assassin?"

Ignoring him, Marinette rolled the window down just enough to poke her head out. The rain slapped against her face as she squinted into the stormy night. For a moment, there was nothing but the endless blackness. Then she saw it.

"Humans, we are politely asking that you do the pulling of the over." Explained 95.

He was hanging off the side of the truck, his elastic legs stretched impossibly far back to the pursuing car where, faintly visible in the glow of headlights, 96 was leaning out of the window to cling to his feet.

"And please do it fast," 95 added, his voice strained yet weirdly polite. "Because it turns out that this is not a comfortable position."

Marinette yelped, pulling herself back into the truck. "Alec!"

"What?" Alec barked, his nerves already fried.

"We've got company!"

Alec glanced at her, then at the window, before snapping his attention back to the road. "What do you mean, 'company'? What kind of company?"

"The stretchy, terrifying kind!" Marinette snapped back.

Before Alec could respond, 95's voice came through again, impossibly cheery despite the circumstances. "Humans!" 95 called again, his voice trailing behind them. "You seem to misunderstand! We are very serious about the pulling over!"

Marinette head returned to double check the bizarre scene unfolding outside her window. 95's head bobbed slightly with every jolt of the truck, his uncomfortably casual attitude somehow managing to hold steady despite the forces of gravity and momentum constantly tugging him in every direction.

"Miss Doo-Pwuain-Shen, isn't it?" 95 said, his voice taking the time to annunciate every wrong syllable of her name. "We don't want to rush you, but if we can end this without doing something that will stress your grandpa human, that would be great."

Marinette's jaw worked silently, trying to form a response. Finally, she blurted, "How do you even know my name?"

"Oh, Boss Roth told us plenty!" 95 replied breezily. "Your age, your favourite foods, your shoe size. How 'mar-ket-tible' you could be as a small plushie version of yourself."

"You—what?!" Marinette sputtered, her disbelief reaching new heights.

95's head tilted slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Though, between us, I never understood the shoe size thing. Seems a bit personal, don't you think?"

Marinette stared at him in stunned silence, her brain refusing to process the absurdity of this situation. "Are you seriously making small talk right now?" she finally snapped, throwing her hands up.

"Well," 95 said, his voice taking on a faintly apologetic tone, "it's just that things feel a little tense now. You know? And I've been told by other humans that breaking ice with words is good for that."

For a good few seconds, Marinette continued to just stare and 95 waited patiently for her to see the brilliant logic of his words.

Then she breathed in deep. And nodded.

"You know what? You're right." Her panicked features turned upwards in the stroke of a second, smiling at him. "In fact, why don't you come aboard and we break the ice together."

Alec balked, "Marinette?!"

She waved him off, not looking away from 95. "Just keep on driving."

"Can we really?" 95 cried out, incredulous and overjoyed, like a kid who just won family game night. "That would be so convenient, tiny human!"

"Yeah, just head around to the back," she said with deceptive cheer, keeping her voice light. "I'll open up the ramp for you."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you!" 95's giddiness was almost cute; which made what she was about to do next a little awkward. He craned his neck to glance back toward the truck's rear, his elastic limbs twitching in preparation.

"Marinette, what are you doing?!" Alec hissed, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel.

"I'm giving us a window." She gave a cheeky grin, shooting up an 'okay' sign as she unfastened her seatbelt. "Get ready to make a sharp turn onto the nearest exit."

"Should I be scared?" Alec asked, his tone half-joking, half-genuinely terrified.

Marinette was already climbing into the back, struggling against the unstable lurching of the interior as she shuffled towards the back of the vehicle. "Only if this doesn't work!"

With an unnerving crack and stretch, 95 flung himself toward the back of the truck. Marinette leaned forward, gripping the edge of the dashboard as she peered into the side mirror, watching his distorted figure clamber toward the ramp.

Marinette dropped down beside Chaplin, a soft whistle calling the weary creature's multiple eyes to her. "Hey, Boy." She coo'd, running her fingers down his snout, prompting Chaplin to lean into her touch. "You've done so good today, but now I just need you to do one more thing for me, kay?"

It took a moment, but Chaplin's head rose from the floor, an unsteady sway mimicking a nod. Marinette took hold of his hind legs, helping him struggle to his feet and shake off the weariness. "That's it! You can do it, you're the best boy, aren't you Chaplin?"

"Careful now, humans!" 95 called out, thumping against the back of the truck. "I'm coming aboard!"

Marinette shared one more unsure glance with Alec before punching the release button. The ramp's mechanism hissed, its hinges groaning as the steel plate began to lower. 95's elongated arms latched onto the edge with unsettling precision, his body curling into the opening like a spring ready to snap.

Clinging to a safety handle to stay upright, Marinette waved him over. "Hello there, Senti Dude. Come on in."

95's hand broke away from the entrance frame, clambering inside without ehsitation. "Uh, much thanks, little human."

He craned his neck around, shouting down at 96. "See? I told you we should have just tried asking politely." He laughed. "And you said I was being a dumb-dumb."

In response 96 sharply yanked down on 95's feet, causing him to stumble back and shoulder check the wall. This time 95 didn't just look over his shoulder, his entire head turned in place, his necked twisting like a spring, to glare at his brother.

96 seemed to have now tied 95's legs to the car door, now pulling himself out of the moving vehicle, using 95's stretched out body as a make-shift bridge. "I'm coming across!" He yelled.

Marinette could barely hold back a conspiratorial giggle. "Oh, it looks like you're really straining yourself there." She looked down at Chaplin. "Chaplin, why don't you help him in?"

Before any questions or suspicions could manifest, Chaplin lunged forward, catching 95's arm in his mouth. 95 stared down at Chaplin, perhaps hesitant and fearful at first, but eventually shrugged off any doubts and curved the caught hand around to lightly drum his fingers against Chaplin's snout.

The sentiknight had no actual throat to clear, but he still mimicked the sound; mostly likely something he saw humans doing often. "Uh, fellow senti-brother, could you not pull me too tight?" He said cautiously, Chaplin sliding back in quick, sharp yanks that made 95's limbs sound like slapped rubber. "You see, that's actually beginning to- Ah!"

"Chaplin's just making sure you're secured." Marinette reasoned, patting 95 on the head. "We wouldn't want your brother falling off."

95 hummed. "That's true…"

After a minute or so of this, Chaplin had backed himself into a tight corner by the driver's seat, his tail swaying dangerously close to Alec's head, earning a growl of displeasure from the already frazzled driver. It was at this point that the stretching met it's limit, every tug being met with an insurmountable resistance.

Idly, Marinette tapped on the elongated arm, humming. "So, this is how far you can stretch?"

95 chirped up with pride. "Yes, yes, I know; it's very impressive."

"I am, like, so impressed." Marinette leaned over, positioning her lips over where an ear would be on a human. "I've always wanted to make the world's first sentimonster slingshot."

A beat passed.

95's head curved upwards to look at his brother.

"…96, what's a slingshot and how am I one?"

An evil grin broke through as Marinette jumped back, throwing her arm over a seat and hanging on for dear life. "You're about to find out." Her free hand shot forward, pointing so aggressively at 95 that she swore she could feel wind shooting out of her fingers to push him away. "Chaplin, give them the feels and let 'em soar!"

Chaplin hacked out a rough roar, his tail whipping out from the chair and slamming into the floor. From the top of the tuning-fork tip, his tail unleashed it's emotional wave, the white burst of energy concentrated on 95. The effect was immediate, like Optidrone, 95 body suddenly lost all sense, twitching and jittering like a machine being overloaded.

"W-What is this feeling!?" 95 cried out, his voice now having a metallic, distorted echo to it. "M-My body is acting f-f-fuuuuuunny!"

As his body twisted and jerked about, 96 struggled to remain atop it, desperately trying to clamber forward and reach the truck. "Brother, what's wrong?"

His spasms grew worse as his joints seemed to contort into impossible angles, his torso coiling like a spring pulled too tight. "I-I'm just remembering when I broke Mother's favourite vase and blamed you!"

"You did what?!" 96 screeched from behind, his grip on his brother's wildly thrashing legs slipping dangerously.

Chaplin let out another roar, this one vibrating with just the right amount of malicious glee, and with one final, mighty yank of his tail, the emotional energy amplified 95's spasms into one sharp recoil.

Marinette's grin turned into full-blown cackling as the tension snapped like a rubber band. "And… blast off!"

And then, Chaplin let go.

The split second that followed was almost a freeze frame. 95 looked to Marinette, then to his arm, and then to his brother.

"Brother, I believe we've been bamboozled."

95 launched forward with shocking speed, his elongated body whipping through the air like a sentimonster missile. 96, still holding onto 95's legs, was dragged along for the ride, screeching all the way as they hurtled toward the pursuing car. 95 was smashed through the window of the car, causing it to swerve around and smash into the car close behind it. That then spiralled into other cars flipping over, crashing, cracking and screaming into one chaotic pile up that blocked the tunnel just as the buggy broke through the other side.

When the ramp came up, Marinette couldn't stop laughing.

Their distorted screams faded into the distance as Marinette collapsed against the seat, breathless from laughter. "That," she gasped, wiping a tear from her eye, "was the most satisfying thing I've done all week."

Alec made the buggy turn with a sharp swerve, taking them off the road and shooting down a hill to end up on another road. For a minute of silence, Alec took every turn imaginable just to keep their tracks unpredictable, diving through other tunnels, jumping over railings to other pathways, squeezing through enlarged alley ways.

Finally, it was time to breath a sigh of relief.

Then Alec had a thought. "…You know," he said, his voice far too casual, "we better hope they didn't load up their prisoners into those cars."

Marinette froze in place, her head snapping to Alec so fast she nearly pulled a muscle. "You pick now to mention this?!" she screeched, the sound ricocheting around the cabin.

"I didn't know you were gonna do that!" Alec hissed back defensively, barely keeping the Buggy steady as it slid through a particularly tight turn.

Turning her focus to Chaplin, now slumped awkwardly on his spiked back in exhaustion, Marinette groaned and ran a hand over her face. "Good job, Boy. You really saved our bacon there, didn't you?"

The sentimonster gave a faint gurgle in response, his many eyes blinking lazily up at her. Then, he turned to the back of the truck, back to where they came from, a sad whine escaping him.

Marinette crouched next to him, placing a gentle hand on his snout. "Hey, don't give me that look. We'll get that old curmudgeon back, you'll see."

"Usually, I'd say no and tell you we're running for the hills."

"But?"

Alec sighed, his shoulders sagging as he adjusted his grip. "But… I guess it's time to start believing what you said. Besides…" He hesitated, glancing briefly at Chaplin before returning his focus to the road. "I don't think I'm ever gonna sleep with Hawkmoth saving my life hanging over my head."

Marinette let out a shaky breath, her lips quirking up despite the tension in her chest. "That's the spirit. We'll get them back. All of them."

As if in agreement, Chaplin gave a low, tired growl from the back. Marinette reached over, giving him a gentle pat. "See? Even Chaplin's in on this. You're not getting out of it now."

Alec eased, his grip on the wheel loosening, but Marinette could still see the way his jaw tightened, the furrow in his brow that hadn't gone away since the chase. Eventually, he let the weight on his shoulders fall into words.

"I can't believe Bert sold us out."

Marinette winced, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her seat as she leaned back. "Even the people we trust the most can do stupid, terrible things when they're desperate." Her voice dipped, quieter now. "I should know, shouldn't I?"

Alec glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his eyes softening for a moment before a faint scoff escaped him. "Somehow, I don't think Bert would take responsibility like you've done." He shifted in his seat, his lips pressing into a tight line. "And, you know, he wasn't a teenager when he betrayed us."

"Do you think he told Roth where the resistance is hiding out?" Marinette asked, hesitating on the words as her stomach churned with the thought.

"I think Roth was being genuine about not caring about us," Alec admitted, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. "I wouldn't be surprised if asking where we're hiding didn't cross his mind until his little ambush failed."

"But we can't risk that, can we?"

Alec shook his head, his fingers tapping against the wheel. "Nope. Even with our lead on them, I don't know if we'll get much time to evacuate."

Marinette sighed, running a hand through her damp hair. "We'll just have to hope for the best."

Alec nodded, his voice a little lighter now. "You should probably send the sen- Uh, Chaplin away before we go any further."

"S-Send him away? Where, and how? It's not like we can just leave him to wond-" Alec raised a hand to cut her off.

"No one's gonna react well to him," Alec said, his tone even and understanding. "You don't need to say anything. I already figured out that your little 'he followed us here' excuse is baloney."

Marinette blinked, caught off guard, her mouth working before any coherent words came out. "I… I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Alec shrugged, his eyes fixed on the road. "Not all secrets are bad, and we haven't exactly given you much reason to trust us with them. I won't tell anyone."

A lump formed in her throat, and her voice came out a little shakier than she intended. "I… Thanks, Alec."

"Don't thank me yet," he muttered. "We've still got a lot of crap to deal with before this day is over."

---

Past

It was a gorgeous day, all things considered. For once, since the start of this whole mess, the clouds were parted to make way for a golden skyline drowning out the dreary weather of the past few months. The sun had never shone so brightly in a while.

And yet, all Felix could think about was how cold it felt in spite of it all. The calm, the shine, the light in these dark days; they were all a projection of the mind, an illusion of comfort for the panicking masses. In truth, it was darker, colder than ever, because evil slept just underneath their feet.

"It's perfect weather, don't you think?" Felix hummed, glancing over at Kagami. "For meeting the devil."

"And the perfect location." She bit back, though her voice had none of Felix's humour or cheer, just a rising dread.

Felix nodded, leaning closer to her, coaxing her to instinctively wrap her arm around his own and pull him close. It made him uncomfortable, not because he didn't desire her physical contact, but that it made it clear that she wasn't scared for herself, she was scared for him. Kagami could always take care of herself, and she'd become sufficiently more emotionally independent after the time she spent with her friends.

He could comfort her against threats, both physical and emotional, to her person; but the other way round was something he consistently failed at. It was hard to stop her from fearing for him when he was so determined to place himself at the centre of the horror show. He wouldn't dare to ask her to stay behind, to let him go alone no matter how much he wanted her to be safe as well; that request would cut her deeper than any dagger.

"What? A church?" He asked idly. "You'd think he'd be set up by a whore house or a call centre."

Kagami narrowed her eyes at him, which he usually translated as either bemusement or aggravation. She inclined her head past the cathedral, over to the graveyard. "A place of death."

"Ah."

Yes, looking up the majesty of Notre Dame, all he could feel was the cold; the death.

With a sigh he kicked off his heel and made his way further down the street path that outlined the Cathedral, crouching down to dislodge and pull up the sewer grate he was dreading to touch. He knew that any descent would inevitably take him into the sewers, but none of that prepared him for the smell that hit him the moment the hatch was opened.

Crinkling his nose and trying not to breathe anything in, he dropped down into the ladder, shuffling into the depths with Kagami following after.

He hadn't intended to make his meeting a date, but she'd insisted on coming with him when he explained his stunt with Optigami. She had this ridiculous idea in her head that he was biting off more than he could chew and needed her to drag his ass out of danger when the shoe inevitably dropped.

Not that he didn't enjoy her presence or feel much more confident and calm facing the darkness before him with her hand within arm's reach; but he could handle himself. He didn't need to lean on her as if he were some weakling that burdened her shoulder.

He clicked his flashlight on and the first thing he saw was her face, paler than the moon and eyes sparkling like stars. It was hard for a man like Felix to admit how much of an effect she had on him, that someone so refined and well put together could come apart at the seems at just a look from another person. It was even harder to admit how easily he'd been smitten the moment he met her during the diamond ball, over a year ago pretending to be Adrien to set up his debut as Argos.

He'd been in the midst of a carefully constructed scheme that night, and for a moment it all seemed to spiral off course the moment their eyes met. And he kept on spiralling every night since, until he made the awkward first move of 'saving' her (or as some might say, kidnapping her) from her mother.

Okay, he knew that it was a terrible thing to do and the worst way to start a relationship, but he panicked. He didn't know how to deal with those feelings, and when he saw her in a situation that brought back painful memories, he had to do something. Felix had never saw anyone in that light before, his only reference for a relationship was two parents who absolutely loathed one another, and he was possibly in the midst of a little 'bad boy' high as Argos.

And in his defence, he would like to mention that technically Duusuu was the one who suggested it first. That kwami only saw the world through the lens of a soap opera.

They continued deeper into the disgusting underbelly of Paris, following the directions that Optigami had helpfully supplied him after hitching a ride on cult down to Lila's inner sanctum. The smell was one thing, the darkness obscuring every nook and cranny a threat could emerge from was another; but it was the silence that kept Felix's attention.

"You're quiet." He stated simply.

"Not much to say." She replied just as quick.

He shook his head, rolling his eyes. "You have plenty to say, but you're being polite."

The further they ventured, the more populated the passageways became. There were cave ins, cornered off turns, crumbling saturated looking brickwork; all the telltale signs of a chunk of avenues abandoned by Paris. Made sense, you didn't want to hide your satanic evil lair somewhere a sewage worker might stumble upon by accident. Which Felix took as a sign that they were getting closer.

The roots were another sign.

The roots started out as a faint oddity, barely distinguishable from the damp, crumbling bricks of the sewer walls. Felix almost dismissed them at first—just another feature of the decaying underbelly of Paris. But as he and Kagami crept deeper, the roots became more prominent, their texture coarse and knotted like twisted veins.

Felix's flashlight flickered across one of the roots, catching the faint shimmer of something unnatural. He stepped closer, running a cautious hand over the bark. It was warm to the touch—uncomfortably so—and pulsed faintly, as if alive.

"Definitely not part of the original plumbing," he muttered, withdrawing his hand.

Kagami sighed, standing over him like a guard, as if she'd see any threats past the scope of his flashlight. "I'm worried, Felix."

He shrugged. "Naturally. It's dangerous work we're involved in."

After the words passed through his lips he realized immediately how dismissive his natural snark came off as. He shook his head and turned to her, brows knitted together, unsure, but determined. "I just mean…" He took it as a good sign that there was a flicker of amusement from her at his struggle to be nicer. "Look, we're good, we're safe. I've ensured that."

"For now."

Felix stood up, patting down his now mucked trousers with a hiss. "I know it's not ideal, but… Maybe…" He smacked his forehead with the flashlight, growling at himself for finding such simple things so difficult. His mother taught him how to be a proper gentleman, so why were his manners failing when it actually mattered?

"Urg, I'm not good at comforting people. Sorry." He groaned, reaching for her hand. It was a simple physical gesture, but he found that Kagami always managed to hear his heart clearly through the noise of his awkward antics when they were physically linked. "I know it's hard, and I hate that I don't know how to make it easier."

She raised his hand up to press it against her cheek, both a gesture of comfort and an easy way to force Felix to look her in the eyes and get lost. "You can start by being straight with me and letting me be involved."

His voice wobbled under her gaze, the warmth of her embrace only reminding him why it was so hard to fulfil her request. "I can't put you in any more danger."

Some might say that keeping her updated was the opposite of endangering her further, but in Felix's experience he found that your knowledge could be just as much a threat to you as your enemies. Especially incomplete knowledge. It can trick you, prey on your curiosity and your righteousness to lure you deeper into danger; it can drive you mad and plunge a knife of ignorance into your heart.

Knowledge could be an infection; it could consume you and leave nothing behind but cries of madness. Perhaps, for a moment, Felix wondered if that had been what afflicted him. Too much knowledge he wasn't equipped to handle, that he foolishly followed down the path he currently walks. Perhaps ignorance would have left him a man more worthy of Kagami's care, a man who would have refused the temptation to lie to her.

"We're a team, Felix." She said softly. She stared into his eyes, knowing what he was, knowing that he was holding back from her, knowing that there were dark depths to this man that she had yet explored; and somehow she found a way to be comforted by him. "If you're in danger, we're both in danger. Together."

Felix still had no idea what Kagami saw in him that made her love him, but those were the types of mysteries you try not to solve for the sake of your own sanity.

"I know…" He muttered, sighing sharply. "I'm worried I'm not good enough to carry my own weight here. You… You were always better at this sort of stuff."

She giggled and it was like a rush of bubbles massaging his ear lobes. "Damn, how many times did you gag before you were able to say that?"

"Twenty times in the car mirror on the way here, if you must know." He pouted, pressing his forehead against hers. "Have I ever mentioned how beautiful you are when you're being smug?"

"You have." She tilted her head back, denying him a kiss for a second longer, taunting him to fall in step with her with only her finger under his chin guiding him along. "And you may keep repeating it."

In that moment Felix wondered how he ever thought he could survive down here without her. He hated the dark, and without Kagami's light, without her strength, to show the way, he knew it would have swallowed him whole.

The further they ventured, the roots grew thicker, tangling across the floor and forcing them to watch their step. They twisted and looped like serpents, some even crawling along the ceiling. The pulsing purple glow became more pronounced, flickering in rhythm with a deep, almost imperceptible hum that reverberated through the tunnel.

The air grew heavier with every step, the oppressive darkness now tinged with the sickly glow of the roots. The silence that had unnerved him earlier was replaced by a faint, otherworldly rustling, like dry leaves shifting against each other in a phantom wind.

"This has to be it," Felix whispered, though he couldn't shake the feeling that he was stating the obvious.

The roots soon transformed into grotesque tendrils, twisting unnaturally as if in pain. They pulsated with purple energy, the light casting eerie, moving shadows against the walls. Felix couldn't tell if they were getting closer to something alive or something far worse.

"Those are supposed to be roots, right?" Kagami whispered in his ear, as if something might hear her. "Why… Why do they look so flesh-like?"

"I assume the answer is horrifying." Felix stated, falling back on his sarcasm as a safety net even as he tightly gripped Kagami's hand. "To think, this has spread to every corner of Paris, pumping… God knows what into the soil."

Then, the path opened up. The narrow sewer tunnel abruptly gave way to a cavernous chamber, its scale so massive that Felix's flashlight couldn't illuminate the far edges. A gaping pit stretched before them, its maw lined with thick, writhing roots that seemed to spill endlessly into the black void below.

The pit radiated malevolence. A deep, resonating hum echoed from within, rattling Felix's bones. The air here was thick, almost suffocating, and carried the stench of rot and sulfur. He stepped closer, shining his flashlight down into the abyss, but the beam was swallowed whole by the darkness.

One of the roots shifted, its tendrils curling slightly as if acknowledging their presence. Felix froze, his grip on the flashlight tightening as his heart pounded. Kagami's hand shot to his arm, pulling him back.

They didn't need to say it aloud. Both of them knew what—or who—this pit led to. Felix had been chasing shadows long enough to know when he was standing on the precipice of something monstrous.

The hum grew louder, more pronounced, and Felix thought he could make out faint whispers beneath it, like voices trapped in the depths. The roots trembled slightly, as if the pit itself was alive and aware of their presence.

He was so focused on the portal to hell that he didn't even hear Kagami's transformation phrase until Ryuko had him in her grip, every inch of her face radiating discomfort.

"Stay close." She insisted, pulling him behind her. "I won't let this Malevolence take you if I can help it."

For a second, she managed to make him forget that he had a miraculous of his own, just so mentally wrapped up in her protective front. The wholesome sensation was ruined however when a stray thought reminded him of the last time he remembered having someone being protective of him like this, reaching for a memory of Colt pushing child Felix behind him when some drunken hooligans decided to start throwing bottles at the two.

It sickened him that any part of his mind would link the Defect and Kagami together, but that sickness didn't stop his imagination. Again, knowledge could be a curse.

He shook his head, taking the time to spread his feathers, leaving Argos following Kagami's lead. "Don't worry, Lila's keeping it subdued, it shouldn't be any threat to us as long as we don't wake it up."

Ryuko glanced at him briefly, her dragon eyes narrowing. "You're sure of that?"

Felix hesitated for the briefest moment, then nodded. "Reasonably sure."

Ryuko's grip on her blade tightened, but she didn't argue. Instead, she focused her attention on the pit, her posture tense and ready for anything.

The hum deepened, the whispers growing louder as if sensing their presence. Felix tried not to let it get to him, but the weight of the air, the stench of sulphur and rot, made it hard to think. His feathers ruffled uncomfortably as a chill ran down his spine.

"Whatever this is," Ryuko said, her voice low, "it's not just dormant. It's watching us."

Felix's gaze flickered to the roots, noticing how they shifted ever so slightly, as if breathing. His grip on his fan tightened. "Then let's try to be quick and subtle about this."

Ryuko activated her nifty little power, control over a few select elements; in this case she drew the winds of Paris into the depths of the underworld. The winds swept up around them, picking the two up and slowly lowering them into the pit below.

The descent into the pit felt like an eternity. Ryuko's control over the wind was masterful, creating a soft yet firm buffer that carried them down, but even her precision couldn't ease the mounting tension. The whispers grew louder, more distinct, like a thousand voices murmuring secrets just beyond comprehension. Felix tried not to focus on them, keeping his eyes on the faint purple glow that pulsed from below, illuminating more of the grotesque, writhing roots.

"It's alive," Ryuko muttered, her grip on her blade steady despite the unease in her voice. "I don't know how, but it's alive."

Felix glanced at her, then back at the shifting roots that coiled and uncoiled like living things. "It's not just alive," he replied, his voice low. "It's aware."

The air grew thicker the deeper they went, the stench of sulfur becoming almost unbearable. Felix's fan trembled in his hand, the normally solid grip betraying his nerves. His feathers itched, the instinctual reaction to danger growing stronger with each passing second.

"I should've stayed up there," he muttered under his breath.

Ryuko shot him a sharp look. "You don't get to second-guess yourself now. We're in this together."

He managed a weak smile, though it faltered as a sudden groan echoed up from the depths. It wasn't the hum they'd been hearing—it was something deeper, more guttural, like the earth itself was crying out in pain. The roots shuddered violently, and Felix's heart skipped a beat.

"Subtle, huh?" Ryuko said dryly, glancing down at him as the winds steadied their descent.

Felix shrugged, trying to mask his growing anxiety. "I don't think we're the ones causing the noise."

As the winds carried them gently to the bottom, Felix's boots touched down on solid ground—or at least something resembling it. The floor beneath them was uneven, cracked like shattered glass, with roots twisting in and out like veins on pale skin. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing as Ryuko released the wind around them, her feet landing with the grace of a predator ready to strike.

What neither of them expected, however, was the scene before them.

It wasn't the den of some demonic force, not entirely. Instead, the chamber looked… lived in. Furniture—if you could call it that—was scattered around in a haphazard arrangement. A crushed king-sized bed sat slanted in the far corner, its frame bent under what looked like years of decay and weight. A vanity desk stood in the middle of the room, its mirror cracked but still reflecting the faint glow of the purple roots. Movie posters lined the walls, faded and torn, their edges curling from the damp air. Christmas lights, of all things, were strung across the chamber in awkward loops, some of them blinking weakly, others burnt out entirely.

Felix blinked, his fan slipping slightly in his grip. "This… isn't what I was expecting."

Ryuko frowned, her blade still at the ready. "It looks like someone tried to make a home down here."

"A home?" Felix echoed, his voice dripping with disbelief. He took a cautious step forward, his sharp eyes scanning every detail. "This looks like a teenager's basement bedroom got swallowed by hell."

Ryuko didn't disagree. The air was still thick with tension, the purple glow of the roots casting eerie shadows over the mismatched furniture. She moved cautiously, her blade raised, as her gaze darted between the ominous roots and the strange remnants of a life long abandoned. Her instincts screamed that nothing about this place was safe.

Felix, on the other hand, was drawn to the vanity desk. Something about it felt out of place—even more so than the rest of the bizarre setup. He brushed aside a strand of roots dangling over it and leaned closer. The surface was cluttered with odd trinkets: a broken music box, a few shards of mirror, and a dusty frame with a faded photograph inside. He wiped the grime away with his sleeve, revealing a picture of a young man and a woman smiling brightly, holding hands in a garden. By pure accident he let it slip from his hand, revealing paper behind the photo; a newspaper clipping, showing an article about the many people killed in a bombing attack by the super villain Rupture.

That was that Cassandra woman's former title, Felix noted grimly, the one Lila asked if she remembered her.

The photo of the smiling couple suddenly felt too heavy to hold and he let the frame drop back onto the desk.

"I think we found Lila's room." He sighed.

The next item on the menu was another picture frame, this one large and, oddly enough, face down on the desk. He shrugged it off at first, but when the roots' chanting seemed to only grow in ferocity as he moved the frame, he concluded quickly that it's positioning was purposeful. Summoning up his courage he went ahead with pulling the frame up, revealing a painting.

It was of a man, or at least a man-like figure, tall, haggard, wrapped in a blood-red crimson cape that obscured most of his features save for his red, dead eyes. At his back, the world of Paris seemed to unravel, everything from the buildings to the very sky bending inwards to bow before him. "That's one daunting portrait."

Ryuko peered over Argos' shoulder. "Who is he?"

Squinting, Argos could make out enough on the face's features that, even with the man having the condition fitting that of a corpse, he could glimpse a family resemblance. A gold plate was nestled at the bottom of the frame, the name 'Salvadore' was spelled out clearly. "I think that's one of Lila's relatives."

Despite wielding the power of a miraculous, Argos found himself feeling unsafe just looking into the eyes of the painting, feeling them stare back at him, watching him, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Forcefully, Argos slammed the frame back down in it's original position and the chanting ceased.

They moved to the far side of the room where another bed lay, only this bed was more recognisable as a hospital bed. On it's side there was a table of monitors, equipment and tools; all have the wear, tear and blood stains to show that they'd been used recently.

"Hospital equipment?" Ryuko asked curiously, running her finger over the heart monitor.

More photos were hung up on a board at the foot of the bed, and these ones were more obviously horrific. They were medical pictures, detailing Lila's body in various stages of surgery. Splayed out before him, Argos was witnessed to several incisions across Lila's back, peeling back patches of rotting skin to reveal pools of dark, putrid muck coating her bones and pouring out of her organs. The most damning one of all showcased where her heart should be. 'Should be' because what was there instead wasn't a heart, it was a malformed, fleshy-coloured butterfly pumping it's toxic sludge into her veins.

"Lila's been experimenting on herself?" Argos wondered out loud.

Ryuko pulled his attention over to the equipment table, where she was crouched, holding a tube between her fingers that looked like it ran from a machine, similar in appearance to what you'd see an iv drip fed into, and to the bed where fresh blood stains coated the sheets. "It looks like she's been draining something from her body."

"You said she was being corrupted by this Malevolence creature." Ryuko continued, "Perhaps this is how she expels the corruption and keeps it at bay."

Argos reached down, tugging lightly on her shoulder. "Let's be safe and not touch anything, okay?"

She nodded, "Agreed."

They continued forward. The only direction was the path of the roots feeding through one specific door past the medical station. Beyond the next door, a metal panel loosely hanging from a hold in the wall, was a smaller room, but no less packed.

"Is this… an art gallery?" Ryuko muttered, her sharp eyes scanning the towering paintings that lined every inch of the chamber. Each was massive, almost imposing, and filled with unsettling detail.

Argos tilted his head, studying one of the images closest to him. It depicted a family in a living room. The details were absurdly intricate—the texture of the wallpaper, the gleam of the coffee table, the expressions on their faces. Too intricate. "Lila stuffed a personal art gallery down here?" he murmured.

Ryuko stepped closer to another painting, tilting her head as her eyes scanned the canvas. "It's… uncanny. These look like—"

"Photos," Argos finished, his fan snapping open as his eyes darted from one painting to another. "It's like someone took snapshots and painted them over." He moved to another painting, his brow furrowing. "But… why?"

At first, the paintings seemed innocuous, albeit deeply unsettling in their realism. They lingered on odd, frozen moments: a child playing in a park, a crowded train station, a street corner bathed in twilight. The air around the images felt thick, charged with something they couldn't name.

Ryuko began to turn toward another painting when she froze. Her eyes narrowed. One of the paintings—depicting a crowded dinner table—had just shifted. It was subtle, but unmistakable: the perspective had moved slightly, as though the "camera" capturing the scene had tilted. Then the entire image faded away, replaced by a different one entirely—a dark alley illuminated by flickering streetlights.

"They're moving," Ryuko whispered, her hand gripping her sword tightly.

"What?" Argos turned to her, confusion etched across his face.

"The paintings," Ryuko gestured to the walls. "They're not paintings—they're moving."

Argos squinted, stepping closer to the closest now-transformed canvas. His breath caught as the new image came into focus: the scene was vivid, a classroom illuminated only by a projection on the board. On either side there was a teenager, one a boy and the other a girl, both clad in white maskl putting on a show for a disturbed girl that acted as their sole audience member.

His jaw tightened as recognition struck him like a blow.

"This…" He pointed at the image, his voice unsteady. "This is the night we told Marinette about Monarch."

Ryuko's gaze snapped to him, the tension in her shoulders growing. "How is that possible?"

Argos's mind raced as the realization settled in. He looked at the painting as it shifted once more, studying its details: a young girl standing in a bakery, smiling as she handed over a baguette. The longer he looked, the clearer it became. Marinette's name was etched into the frame.

"They're memories," Argos said, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and unease. "These paintings… They're memories."

Ryuko gasped, spinning around to look at the other paintings, finding other names etched into them. "That must be how she got all her information."

Akumas are experiences, memories distilled into a single defining, maddening moment to drive a person into their better self; into a champion. But it needed a host to empower, an experience to drown in. Somehow, Lila managed to find a way to translate the essence of an akuma into a physical manifestation of those experiences. This was what she spent long hours down here perfecting in preparation for unlocking the potential of her mementos. She was finding a way to use an akuma in reverse, to drain the experience from the person instead of the person absorbing the akuma.

To separate the person from the body.

He moved around the room on auto pilot, eyes listlessly passing over nameplates, some names he recognised, some he didn't – but he was looking for a specific one.

The first he found was Lila's. The couple from the photo were squished into a train seat with little Lila on their lap. Then there was that same child standing before a towering building the middle of nowhere, all on her own. Then she was being stuffed in a cupboard by two daunting silhouettes, only their ragged trousers visible in the spot light that focused on the abandoned girl.

The final image it faded to before Felix looked away had Colt front and centre. A young Colt looking uncharacteristically scared. He stood tall, yet looked so small, blood on his trousers and a gun gripped tightly in his hand and resting against his leg. On his shoulders, Lila sat, looking as big as a cat compared to Colt, with his stolen cowboy hat pulled over her head, covering her eyes.

Of course, the main draw of the painting was the bodies. Several corpses rested around Colt, with the two in front of him recognisable because of the trousers matching from the previous image. Lila clung to Colt's neck, trembling, one hand using his hair as her anchor. Colt's expression was one of a man who was still catching up to what he just did, eyes wide and black, jaw hanging open and his entire body slack.

The day Colt and Lila met. The day he saved her, according to her.

Quickly, Argos moved along, this wasn't what he was looking for and the longer he stared, the more that sense of perverse guilt started to claw at him for spying on such a private matter as a raw memory.

For good or for ill, the next painting he came to was the one that called his curiosity – the one with Colt's name on it.

"Felix?"

It wasn't difficult to make out Colt in the painting's current memory. Despite being clearly younger, and a far cry from the giant mountain of a man he'd become, the young Colt Fathom still sported that recognisable hairline and moustache; Argos guessed the man was just born with it. The only thing that threw Argos off was the expression, Colt Fathom was a man who held himself in a certain way, with strength and gusto and confidence in the face of everyone sneering in disgust at his very presence. However, in this painting, Colt looked to be on the verge of tears. A dark mark stretched from his eye and wrapped around his ear. A plaster held his nose together and the split on his lip looked aged.

Behind him stood a man Argos recognised as the grandfather he never met, looking as unhappy, clean-cut and portly as he did in the few photographs he'd ever found of the man. He held up an umbrella to protect himself, and only himself, from the rain, and propped himself up on a cane. Argos couldn't help but note a splash of red on the head of the cane, as well as how perfectly the head of the cane aligned with Colt's bruise.

"It's Fa- Colt's…"

In front of them both, with a shadow that swallowed them whole, was the man from Lila's picture; Salvadore. Even from the back, Argos could recognise the cape and the pale, skeletal complexion. He loomed over Colt, studying the young man, presented by his father, like a buyer inspecting the goods.

Argos didn't realize he was breathing heavily until Ryuko's arms were around him. "Let's move on, Gami." He said, everything about him shaking. He didn't know why he was curious; he didn't know why he looked; he didn't care to know anything about Colt's past. It didn't matter.

The two moved on in tense silence, following the massive roots that seemed to pulse with the same malevolent energy that filled the gallery. The air grew heavier, the whispers louder, like a thousand voices murmuring just out of reach. Neither of them spoke, both too wrapped in their thoughts.

Finally, they reached a massive door embedded in the stone wall. The roots converged here, twisting and knotting together as if forming a living frame around the door. It was ancient and foreboding, carved with intricate designs that seemed to writhe and shift under the faint light of their miraculouses. Symbols Felix didn't recognize were etched into the surface, glowing faintly with a sickly purple hue.

"All the roots lead to here," Ryuko observed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Argos stepped forward, pressing his hand against the door. The surface was cold, but the energy behind it burned, seeping through his gloves and crawling up his arm like fire beneath his skin. He clenched his teeth, ignoring the shiver that ran down his spine. He needed to see this. He needed to know what Lila was dealing with—what he was dealing with.

Ryuko's gaze darted around the chamber, her grip on her blade tightening. "Are you ready?" she asked, her voice steadier than Felix felt.

He nodded. "Together?"

She nodded back. "Together."

The two pressed their hands against the door, pushing it open with all their might. It groaned under their combined effort, the sound echoing through the chamber like a mournful wail. A surge of dark energy spilled out as the door creaked open, wrapping around them like a suffocating fog.

Argos was the first to step inside, and the only one to step inside. The door slammed shut with a deafening thud, separating the two and pushing Argos forward into a terrible stumble. He hated the darkness, and now he was drowning in the purest form of it.

"Felix!" Her fists pounded against the door, the metallic clang reverberating through the space. "Crap! Get this door open!"

"I'm trying! It won't budge!" Felix called back, his voice echoing unnervingly in the void.

Ryuko's desperation was palpable, her blade slicing through the thick roots around the frame. Argos could hear her grunts of effort, her determination to break through.

But her voice grew fainter with each second as the door seemed to swallow the sound. Argos turned, his feathers unfurling instinctively as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. At some point his fingers slipped, and he thwacked the flashlight into the ground with such force that it shattered. For a brief flash there was light so blinding that Argos had to cover his eyes, only to be snuffed out in an instant.

A weight pushed down on his shoulder, his knees buckled and before he knew it, he was flat on the floor. His hands grabbed at the darkness, looking for a wall, for anything he could grab just to remind himself that something was there. Only, he noticed as his nails dug into the floor that what he now sat upon was not stone. It wasn't solid. It wasn't hard. It wasn't strong. It was soft, lumpy, wet and pliant; the texture of wet clay sucking him in at the hint of friction. He was sinking into it, being swallowed by it.

"Gami? Gami, where are you?" He cried out.

Argos- No, Felix now, he realized as he caught a glimpse of his regular sleeves reaching down to his wrist. He reared back, something he didn't dare describe clinging to his fingers and trying to pull him back down. Felix managed to resist just long enough to throw himself to the exit. Well, where the exit was supposed to be, but instead of meeting a wall of stone and a door, Felix found only air and more darkness.

"Where… Where am I?"

The darkness swallowed everything, leaving Felix in a suffocating void save for the faint, irregular flickers of his broken flashlight. Each brief flash illuminated glimpses of the nightmare that surrounded him—grotesque, pulsating walls of flesh, veins sprawling like tangled vines, and faces. Hundreds of faces. Twisted, contorted in agony, some frozen in silent screams, others weeping with dark tears that seeped into the pulsing tissue.

A low, mournful hum emanated from them, a symphony of despair. The walls themselves seemed alive, breathing, pulsating with a terrible rhythm that synced with Felix's racing heart. His voice caught in his throat as their chant reached him, not as sound, but as a vibration, a physical force that dug into his bones.

Open the wound.

Expose the nerve.

Felix staggered back, his hands trembling as he gripped the remains of the flashlight like a lifeline. The beam sparked briefly, just long enough for him to see the walls ahead bend inward, merging into a mound of diseased, rotten tissue.

From this twisted mass emerged a figure, unfinished and malformed. It lurched forward with a sickening squelch, like a clay sculpture before the sculptor's hands gave it any detail.

Let it fester.

Felix's chest tightened as the figure began to twist and shape itself. A new form took its place: a gaunt Japanese man, haggard and lifeless, his torso connecting to the floor through a pillar of melting flesh. The man's hollow gaze seemed to pierce through Felix, despite having no visible eyes. His mouth hung open, yet no words came out.

Let it roar.

The figure contorted violently, the melting flesh peeling away and reforming in a grotesque ballet until it resembled Salvadore. His empty eye sockets wept black sludge, the malevolent ooze trickling down his broken, scarred body. Felix felt a scream clawing at his throat, but no sound escaped him. He tried to step back, but his feet felt like lead.

Keep the pain. Keep the hate.

The figure shifted again. Monarch. His form was dissolving, unfinished and grotesque, his head smooth and featureless save for the dark sludge dripping from where his face should be. The outline of his body pulsated like a living infection, oozing and collapsing in on itself, as if the figure was barely holding together.

All are one in malevolence.

The air grew heavier, the pulsating walls pressing inward as though trying to swallow him whole. The figure continued to shift, violently jerking through faces and forms, each transformation more grotesque than the last. Monarch melted into a wall of malformed, screaming faces, their mouths stretched unnaturally wide as they shrieked in unison. The sound wasn't external—it was inside Felix's head, rattling his thoughts and stealing his will.

Fester.

The word dug into him like nails. He tried to move, to scream, but his body refused to obey. Hands—ghastly, clawed hands—erupted from the floor, their slimy fingers wrapping around his legs and arms. They yanked him downward, dragging him closer to the walls that pulsed and moaned with anguish.

Fester.

The faces in the wall turned toward him, their hollow eyes locking onto his, their mouths twisting into grotesque smiles as the voices chanted louder. A twisted form stretched out of the wall, reaching for him with elongated arms made of sinew and bone.

"No! No!" Felix finally found his voice, but it was weak, drowned out by the cacophony around him. He thrashed against the hands holding him, trying to wrest himself free, but their grip was unrelenting. The figure in the wall reached closer, its unfinished form writhing with every movement, its hands stretching toward Felix's chest.

Fester.

The chant grew deafening as Felix's body was pulled closer to the pulsating walls. He could feel the grotesque warmth of the flesh, the rotten stench that clawed at his nostrils. The unfinished figure stretched its malformed hand toward his heart, and Felix felt the cold, slimy touch of its fingers sinking through his shirt.

"Let me go!" he screamed, his voice breaking as desperation clawed at his sanity.

The faces on the walls laughed, the sound a garbled mixture of agony and mockery. The unfinished figure leaned closer, its featureless face mere inches from Felix's. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look at the monstrosity any more.

Fester, it whispered, the sound not spoken, but etched into his mind. You will be one with us.

Felix's eyes shot open as he gasped for air, his chest heaving violently. The suffocating darkness was gone, replaced by the dim, flickering light of the open sewer corridor. He was no longer sinking into the walls of flesh—but the terror hadn't left him.

Something still held him in place, though. He looked down to see an arm slung around his waist, but they weren't the grotesque claws from the nightmare. These hands were strong, metallic, covered in synthetic flesh that was peeling back to reveal their mechanical core. He followed the arms up to their owner and froze.

Colt. His distorted, lifeless fake face stared down at Felix, his glowing eyes flickering with faint concern. The bulk of his synthetic frame dwarfed Felix's as he pulled the trembling boy into his chest like a shield.

"Love the pain. Hate the man," the voices chanted, their whispers hissing through the air like venom.

Colt's grip tightened. "He's not yours to claim!" he roared, his voice a thunderous roar of defiance.

Felix turned his gaze downward and realized he was clutching the peacock miraculous. Duusu's tiny form was twisted and writhing in his grip, their delicate body tethered to the fleshy hands still reaching out of the wall. The kwami's usually pristine feathers were ragged, stained with an unnatural black ichor that seeped out of the hands clutching them.

"Fa… Father?" Felix whimpered, his voice fragile, his mind unable to reconcile what was happening. He was confused, dizzy, and most of all, terrified. The horrors from the pit still lingered in his mind, but the cold, unyielding presence of Colt felt like a twisted anchor in the chaos.

"Stay with me, Felix!" Colt barked, his voice a sharp command that cut through Felix's spiralling thoughts. The mechanical arms held him tightly, keeping him from slipping back toward the wall of grasping hands.

"Fester."

"FESTER!"

The voices grew louder, the walls quaking as if enraged by Defect's interference. Ryuko's voice pierced through the chaos as her sword slashed through the thick, grotesque limbs. "I've got you!" she shouted, her blade glowing with an unnatural light as it carved through the darkness.

A growl escaped Colt, heaved in an act of desperation. "Magni, get dangerous!" The transformation phase prompted a burst of sparks rattling Colt's body; in contrast to the comforting, simple transformation of other miraculous, this one looked almost painful, like Colt was being ripped apart and replaced with Defect's coat and hat.

And most importantly, his gun.

There was no time to aim, Defect thrusted the revolver into the writhing masses and didn't stop pulling the trigger until the entire room was encased in the smoke from the resulting explosions. In the midst of the chaos, Felix found himself ripped free from the creature's grip, thrown across the room and into the safety of Ryuko's arms.

But when the smoke cleared, Felix found that Defect hadn't been so lucky.

His coat was torn, his synthetic skin peeling back to reveal the metal framework beneath. He was breathing heavily, the act a strange mimicry of humanity for a machine that didn't need air. The hands were upon him, their influence spreading across his frame in dark, rusted tendrils that cared not for the solidarity of his metal defences.

The echoes of the gunfire were replaced by a guttural roar emanating from the walls themselves, shaking the entire chamber. Every malformed face twisted in agony, their collective wails melding into a singular, agonized cry: "Pain! Pain. PAIN!"

The Malevolence tore Defect open, and from his empty shell they emerged with Colt. The body that emerged from Defect was translucent, a spirit of a sickly thin man who appeared drained of all life, a husk ravaged by the very hatred that kept him clinging to the human world. This was what remained of Colt Fathom.

They broke the metal, ripped the flesh and claimed the man.

And still, he struggled against them, his ghostly arm rising in sync with his metal one, still firing shot after shot. If there was one thing you could give Colt credit for, it was his unbridled determination. "Oh, I'll show you pain."

Felix was trembling in Ryuko's arms, his chest heaving as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. The visions, the voices—they clung to him, haunting his every breath. The lingering image of the Malevolence, with its grotesque, shifting forms, was burned into his mind.

Come back to us, Colt.

Back where you belong.

In the dark.

Where no one can suffer you again.

"Felix! Snap out of it!" Ryuko barked, shaking him slightly as her glowing sword flared brighter.

She tried to drag him away, drag them both out of this hellhole, but Felix raised his hand, he stopped her. And he wasn't entirely sure why.

The words that came from his lips were even more confusing.

"Help… Him…" He murmured.

Ryuko stared him down, eyes wide with disbelief. But there was no time for questions or debate, so she sighed, nodded and pulled away.

Her sword came up in one smooth arc as she cried out "Lightning Dragon!". On command, the element advanced from the base to the tip of the sword, unleashing a torrent of lightning at a crooked arc that just managed to curve around Defect and collide with the Malevolence.

The creature howled in pain, shrinking away from her as she launched herself into the fray, slicing through the weeds of screaming hatred and spite with a ferocity no one else could match. It was easy to think that it was the miraculous that pushed the monster back in that moment, but Felix could see the truth. Argos had been worthless against it, Defect had been but a distraction; it wasn't Ryuko that made the Malevolence tremble, it was Kagami. It was her light, her strength that kept it at bay and found it's screams.

It clung to Colt as a safety net, anchoring itself on Colt's arm and pulling and pulling. Eve with Kagami's glow, it found solace and strength in Colt's misery.

"This creature is relentless!" Ryuoko hissed.

Colt looked down at her, finally having an actual face to express his confusion at her even bothering to come to his aid. When he saw that she wasn't budging, he shook his head and made a weak gesture to the captured arm. "The arm…"

"What?"

He rolled his eyes and barked, "Kid, the damn arm. Chop it off!"

"Your arm!?"

"I'll get a new one, just do it!" Ryuko hesitated for only a moment, her blade crackling with energy as she locked eyes with the translucent figure of Colt Fathom. His spectral face twisted in a grimace, not from pain—he was well past feeling that—but from the sheer force of his resolve. He barked at her again, "Now!"

She raised her sword high, the lightning sparking and roaring like a living dragon coiled around her arm. "Brace yourself!"

The blade came down in a clean arc, severing the connection. The Malevolence howled in fury as Colt's arm was cleaved free, the flesh-and-metal amalgamation falling to the ground with a sickening thud.

The reaction was immediate. The rusted tendrils anchoring the Malevolence to Colt retracted, recoiling as if burned by the purity of the lightning. The malformed faces screamed in unison, their agony reverberating through the chamber as the wall of malevolent flesh writhed and pulled back into itself.

Colt collapsed to his knees, his translucent form flickering like a dying ember. Slowly, his form was dragged back into the metal shell, Defect regaining his bearings and lumbering over to Felix.

It would almost be comical, the sight of Defect with his hand larger than Felix's head taking hold of his cheeks, frantically looking over the boy. "Felix, are you okay?"

Many confused feelings that Felix didn't want to think about welled up in the pit of his stomach, just letting Defect continue. "I… Think so."

"It didn't get inside you, did it?"

"N-No." Felix stated firmly. He knew. On some level he knew that if it did, he'd feel it, that if it did, he would have never escaped it.

Colt sighed, letting go of a breath he didn't have. "Good… Good…"

And then Colt yanked Felix's head forward, bringing him under the half-destroyed fake face to yell "What the hell were you thinking, Boy?!"

"I…"

The grip loosened, dropping Felix back to the ground, Colt standing straight up, growling to himself. "You weren't thinking, were you?" He gripped his head, pacing around the room to burn off the excess energy stemmed just from Felix's audacity. "I explicitly tell you not to come here, about the threat of the Malevolence, and what do you do? You jump right the fuck in there."

He rounded on Felix and never before had Felix felt more like a child being scoulded. "Is it because you thought it'd be fun? Did you have some idea about taking control of it for yourself? Or is it just to spite me?" Colt's fingers sought solace in the air, waving and crushing and squeezing; he had no idea what he should be doing with his hand to better illustrate his points, so they just took a mind of their own.

At least, until Felix quietly murmured. "I'm sorry."

"I can't believe you'd-" Colt stopped in his tracks, frozen, dumbfounded; all by such a simple motion. He couldn't have heard that right. "Huh?"

"I shouldn't have… I didn't…"

All the fire drained from Colt, leaving a limp, one-armed pose lingering over an apologetic Felix. "It really did a number on you, huh?" He murmured. There was a hesitation, a desire to do something coursing through him but quickly shoved aside as he turned to Ryoko. "Kagami, can you help him up? I'm missing half my body."

Ryoko had detransformed into Kagami by now. Her attention was elsewhere when Colt's request came, crouched a bit away from the two and snatching something from the floor. A sense of unease and strain weighed on her features as she silently nodded, moving over to pull Felix to his feet.

Felix's gaze couldn't help but return to the now closed door, the horrors contained within so fresh within his mind. Five minutes, that's all the time he spent with the Malevolence and he already felt lost, like his very being had been torn apart and badly patched back together. Then his gaze moved to Colt, disbelief taking whole.

"You… You were trapped with that thing for years?" He huffed, exasperated. "How did you survive?"

"I didn't." Colt stated simply.

He despised the idea of trying to understand his father, to consider what led Colt Fathom to be the despicable creature he was today. It sickened him to think about, but he couldn't stop it. He'd seen, heard, experienced a sliver of what Colt's life had been like in those long years, what Gabriel had inflicted upon him; and suddenly it made perfect sense why hate was all that remained, what gave him strength.

And why Colt wanted his son to stay away from that very same fate that befell him and Lila.

Felix couldn't help but reach out, his voice trembling. "Your body-"

"It's fine." Colt grumbled, dusting off the scarred metal all too casually. "It's just scrap metal, not like I can feel it anyway."

Silence passed between them, words left unsaid but begging to be given life; yet neither were willing to trade them. Felix turned away, moving to follow Kagami out of the room, but Colt's voice reached him, held him in place with bated breath.

Colt's voice, tired yet firm, echoed softly in the chamber. "Felix."

Felix froze mid-step, his breath catching in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to look back, unsure if his legs would hold him if he did. The rawness in his father's tone was unfamiliar—no anger, no bitterness, just something… real.

Colt continued, the faint metallic rasp of his voice filling the silence. "I wanted to say… Um… I needed to say…"

He'd never heard his father sound nervous before.

Felix didn't turn around, but his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"I mean, I never… And you almost…"

Felix's chest tightened. Regret, pain, longing, it all sat heavily between them. There was a desire there, to understand, to mend, to say so much. What did Colt want to say? What did Felix want his father to say? He hated his father for everything he was, everything he had done. But for the first time, he glimpsed the twisted, desperate man behind the metal mask, the man he once curled up against when he had nightmares.

Colt's metal body groaned as he straightened himself, the faint whir of machinery almost mournful in the stillness. "Never mind. It was... Stupid anyway."

It was a spark, a moment that could be started by either one of them, but neither had the strength to bring it to fruition; not yet.

Felix nodded and continued his stride, jogging a little to catch up to Kagami. "Kagami, did you get hurt at all?"

There was no response, she just stared ahead, the only indication that she heard him being the slight tilt of her shoulders reacting to his voice.

"Gami?" He tried to come round beside her, but she noticeably kicked up the pace. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Her aura radiated a simmering intensity, one that made him fearful to touch her much less follow her, but he still kept in step. This was Kagami, he needed to make her smile again. He knew that the experience had been a complete horror show, he knew there were probably a lot of feelings she was keeping locked up, but he could help her, couldn't he? She knew him. She trusted him. So why was she suddenly finding it so hard to talk to him?

"Come on, what's with the silent treatment."

She came to a dead stop. She finally looked at him.

She was glowering at him, a rage so fierce held behind her eyes that Felix had to instinctively back way.

"These fell out of your pocket."

Her hand unfurled, the item she plucked from the ground revealed as she threw them against his chest. They landed in his palm, leaving him speechless with unmatched dread digging into him.

Two rings. His rings. His amoks.

"Which is strange considering that Lila is supposed to have them."

The response was immediate, but not thought through. "I can explain."

Her laugh was dry, bitter and sounded like it choked her every step of the way. "Explain why you lied to me?" She hissed, jabbing her thumb into his chest. "Or explain why you're working with these monsters of your own free will?"

Felix snapped without thought, picking up stray arguments he'd had in his head ever since he started this journey. "You've tried playing nice all your life, Kagami, and where has that gotten you?" His shoulders shook with a heavy breath. "Where has that gotten any of us?"

"Pretty far, I'd say." Kagami spat, the shimmering her eyes betraying the hurt she tried to keep contained. "We found our freedom, we found each other and we found friends."

"Your fri-"

"Only because you won't accept them!" She screamed, pressing on a forward march, pushing him back until he hit the wall. "All this talk about how no one will accept us when you reject anyone who tries. When you freely give them every reason to hate you."

The words got caught in her throat, leaving her teeth to grind together as stray tears streaked down her cheek. "After all Marinette's done for us, you're willing conspire to kill her… You side with these monsters."

"We are monsters, Gami!" Felix barked, the words like razors cutting through his throat. He didn't like the notion, he didn't like saying it out loud, but he knew in his bones that was what he was. He was a monster, he was born a monster, he was made to be a monster; and being a monster is the only time he ever felt right, felt natural, felt like anything made sense. "We're not human. We're sentimonsters. And so long as we play by human rules, we'll never be free, someone will always be there to pick up our chains."

He tried to reach out for her, tried to caress her cheek and blink through the disgust written on her face. "This is for us." He argued weakly.

"This is for you." She spat, slapping his hand away. "It's always about you; your freedom, your pain, your justice."

Felix squeezed his eyes tight, he couldn't… He couldn't bare seeing the way she looked at him. It was acid burrowing into his flesh. "You don't get it."

"Then explain it!" She cried, "Because right now it's starting to feel like you see me as too foolish, too inferior to understand anything."

"That's not what I-…" He cut himself off with a yelp, limply grasping her arms as his own tears blurred his vision. "Kagami, you are one of the smartest, strongest people I know. I would never see you as anything but equal."

She shook her head. "We can't be equal if you're hiding everything from me."

It should have been a simple request, but nothing was ever simple with Felix. He had to fight it, he had to have a reason, he had to have something to grip onto. "I can't tell you everything when you still cling to this…" A grimace shook him. "This world."

He heard her breath stutter, her lips contorting into a look of horror. "Please tell me that this isn't Red Moon 2.0." Her hands fell upon his chest, a light slap feeling like a battering ram against his heart. "I thought… I thought we were past this."

"We are." He insisted, forcing a smile that he thought would be comforting, but all she could see was the mad glint. "We're not killing anyone. No, no, no, that's the beauty of the plan."

He shook even as he was assuring her, pulling her close, resting his forehead against hers ina familiar and comforting gesture. She just needed to touch him, to be connected to him, then she'd see, then she'd understand. "When everything is in place, the mementos will allow everyone, even everybody I hate, to be moved to a world where death, pain and hatred are no longer a factor." A dazed, dreamy look overtook him, his voice trembling with a joy almost alien to such a dreary boy. "A world for us. For them. For everybody."

"Everyone will be free." He repeated it one or two times, topping it up with a breathless laugh. "We will be free, and we… We can live the future we always dreamed of."

It was as Lila said, a world without lies, where everyone gets the happy ending they wanted, the endings they were denied because they weren't the lucky few. How could that ever be wrong? How could that hurt anybody? What kind of villain makes everybody happy?

Surely, she could see it. Surely, Kagami would be as ecstatic as he was to bring about the life they'd always dreamed of. Surely, he could make her see.

But she didn't. She didn't smile, she didn't understand, she didn't even… Question. She just broke away from him. Her feet took her back, her arms raised up defensively. Kagami moved like a woman afraid, guarded, staring down something that sought to harm her. But that made no sense. Felix would never hurt her, would never dream of anything but making her happy. He was doing this so nobody would be able to hurt them again.

So why did she look upon him with such fear?

"Does my mother still have my amok?" She asked, her voice broken and jagged. "Or is it in your pocket now?"

The question shattered him in ways he didn't think possible. He felt his heart wither and shrivel under the pure rancid taste of the question, of the implication, of the image of him ever wielding her chains.

"What? How…" He blinked away tears, every muscle in his body losing strength. "How could you even think I'd do that to you? I'd never… I'd never…"

She stared back at him, undeterred. "There's a lot of never's you've told me."

"Gami, wait." He cried, throwing out his hand as he dropped to his knees.

She looked as weak as he felt, yet she stood stronger than the foundations that kept the room stable. "Is that an order, Master?" She hissed.

There was no power to Felix's voice, just the mewling's of a weak man. "Please, don't… Don't say that."

She was relentless, even if every word seemed to hurt her as much as it hurt him. "I'm sorry, Master. Did I forget my place?"

"Stop…"

There was sniffling and sighs and tears, but Felix didn't know which of them were making the sounds.

"I wish to leave now Master. I trust you have no objection to that."

After a moments pause she knew that Felix had nothing left to say, nothing left to try and keep her there with. She turned away, transforming into Ryuko again, but before she ascended back from whence they came, she gave him one last glance.

In the darkness, even her tears were brighter than a star.

"I can't watch you kill the man I fell in love with anymore."

Felix hated the dark. He loved her light. And yet, he'd so eagerly, so brazenly thrown himself into the darkness and left her light behind.

He really was one of the monsters now.

---

Present

It wasn't exactly a warm heroes welcome. The moment the guards at the door laid eyes on Alec and Marinette's battered and bruised faces and wondered to find no Juleka or Gabriel at their heel, the mood set in as a heavy, choking weight. They were ushered in at gunpoint, the delivery of the new equipment Alec snagged doing little to soften the people's gazes.

They looked past Alec, of course, they only saw Marinette and the bad omen that hung over her head. Any failure on this mission was the fault of her or Gabriel, the man she vouched for, the man she let live, the man she stood by.

It was a funny contradiction, one half of her wanted to accept the blame, to bow her head and say that she should have been better; but another half screamed in indignation, seething that she'd done everything she could to try and help, that she already dedicated four years of her life to these people, and she still wasn't afforded the benefit of the doubt.

The ego and the self-loathing, always at odds.

They were led into a familiar meeting room under the glares of passersby, the words 'traitor' fresh on everyone's lips. The air was different than the last meeting where the leaders, while suspicious, were happy to see Marinette again. Now, all the tables had been pulled to the side, set up like barriers separating the leaders from the accused as they loomed over Alec and Marinette.

Damocles stood at the forefront, shadows dancing across the grim curves of his face and hiding all the mirth and warmth the old owl usually held. "What happened, Alec?" His voice came out as a deep reverb, washing over Marinette with a cold touch.

However, Marinette's attention was stolen by Jagged, sitting on the edge of the pool table in the corner, not sparing them a glance as he instead stared down at his pool cue. He was refusing to look up, refusing to confirm that Juleka wasn't there.

Alec kept his hands pinned to his side, gripping his shirt like it would help hold himself together. "Roth ambushed us."

Bustier gasped, her hand folding over her mouth. "How did Hawkmoth-"

"It was Bertrum." Alex half-hissed and half-cried, knuckles turning white under the pressure of his grip. "He sold us out trying to give Hawkmoth and Marinette to Roth."

Damocles' gaze swept over them, not looking for Bertrum, but… Evidence of how they dealt with Bertrum. There was something that didn't sit right with Marinette about how easily Damocles seemed to expect bloodshed. "And where is he now?"

"What's left of him is still at the tower." Alec's voice cracked, and Marinette could just glance the memory of Meltdown's brutal execution playing over and over again in Alec's mind. "Roth took Juleka and Hawkmoth. And for all we know, he could be on his way here next."

Jagged couldn't put it off any longer, his head snapping up to stare at the space behind them. Then, his almost pitiful, shuddering gaze turned to Marinette. He needed her to comfort, to hold him up, to lie and reveal this all to be a big joke.

But no such mercy came, only a sad nod from the girl.

The rocker came roaring to his feet, brandishing the cue like a weapon and lunging for Alec, pressing it flat against Alec's throat. He didn't need much strength to reel it back and break it over the target of his fury, of his despair.

"You!" He growled, "You were supposed to protect her!"

Alec looked like he wanted to close his eyes and just get it over with, hide behind someone or something, like he just wanted to curl up into a ball. Instead, he turned to face Jagged directly, his breath hitching, but his nerves not failing him. "I know."

The pool cue shook in Jagged's grip, but Alex didn't move. It was up to Marinette to slide in and push it aside, her pleading eyes, eyes that almost tricked Jagged into seeing Juleka's, stopping the rock star in his tracks.

"It wasn't his fault, Jagged." She told him softly, even if she casted her own guilty glance at the floor. "There was nothing we could do."

His face trembled, gritting his teeth, bawling up his eyes, shuddering his jaw. Just a lot of sudden, half-hearted little movements that had no clear target to be unleashed upon. "That was- You could have-" The pool cue clattered to the floor and Jagged's knees soon followed. "God damn it!"

Bustier rested a hand on his shoulder, "She knew what she was getting into."

But one glare from Jagged told her that such words were the last thing he needed to hear right now. Especially, she retracted her hand.

Damocles was struggling to stand, his grip a vice hold on the chair in front of him. His paled face struggled for the words. "We can't take any chances; we'll have to abandon the base." He gestured a few guards over, whispering commands into their ear and sending them off.

Bravely, or perhaps foolishly, Alec dared to step closer to Jagged. He rested his fist into his palm, hardly able to stop himself from shaking. "If I know Roth," He started, steadily gaining confidence. "I'll bet that Jules and Gabe are gonna be made the stars of Roth's next game show."

Jagged pushed himself back to his feet, a fire in his eyes, but this time it wasn't directed at Alec. "And where is that filmed?" He asked in hushed, rushed whispers.

Alec rubbed his chin for a moment, a flash of fear here and there, but overwhelmed by a sense of guilt and duty. "Roth's personal compound, the Golden Record club."

Marinette sighed, letting her shoulders jostle about, trying to shake off her nerves. Okay, it wouldn't be an easy rescue mission, but they had a location, and they had enough reason to believe that Roth wasn't just going to execute them and get it over with. There was hope, there had to be hope.

"How do we get in?" She asked with as much confidence as she could muster. Jagged patting her back and shooting her a thankful nod was almost enough to send her unsteady stance crumbling into the floor.

"We don't."

Damocles' voice was as sharp, and cold, as his words; cutting through the trio in an instance.

"What?" Marinette squeaked the question, a quiet wail undercutting it; making it almost sound like a whimper.

"Look-"

But Jagged wasn't having it, he jumped forward, fist raised and throat testing those rock star vocal chords as he bellowed. "Don't you do this. Not again."

"Jagged, we are not an army." Damocles stood tall and resolute in the face of an angry, grieving father. "We can't just storm Roth's compound and hope for the best."

For a moment, it looked like a certainty that Jagged was going to punch Damocles out, but his words were almost as forceful as a physical blow. "How much of my family has to go down before you cowards do something?"

Damocles spread his arms out wide gesturing to the guards and the other leaders. "How many people are you willing to get killed for Hawkmoth?"

"We're not talking about Hawkmoth; we're talking about my fucking daughter." Pale fingers pulled Damocles down to Jagged's level by the scruff of his neck, hissing into his ear. "Who got taken because your man sold us out."

Bustier tried to play diplomatic, pulling the two apart and fixing her eyes on Alec. He was the media man, the guy whose job had been to speak to and sway the nation, he had to be able to get Jagged to simmer down. "Alec, what do you think?"

He shifted uncomfortably on the spot. Looking around the room and meeting everyone's expectant gaze. He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to talk. He just wanted to finish the day and pretend the ride was a nightmare. But he had no choice, so he sighed. "I think we can't afford to run anymore." He said firmly, moving to stand beside Jagged. "And that if we let those two die, we're gonna lose the last shred of humanity any of us have left."

Marinette stepped forward; her voice steady but urgent. "Please, Mr. Damocles, you have to reconsider." Her eyes swept across the room, taking in every hesitant face, every clenched jaw. "I know it's not an easy thing I'm asking you to do, but I've seen you all when push comes to shove, charging in to fight the good fight with or without powers."

She paused, her gaze locking onto each of them in turn, forcing them to meet her eyes. "Maybe Hawkmoth sees the akuma in all of you, but I know the heroes in each and every one of you too. If you don't fight now, you'll be running from people like Roth for the rest of your lives."

Bustier was the first to respond, her tone sharp but uncertain. "You'd really throw your lot in with Hawkmoth?"

Marinette's lips pressed into a thin line before she spoke. "He's not a good man, I know that, but… that doesn't mean he can't become one. I'm not giving up on him. Not yet." Her voice softened, but it didn't lose its determination. "And like it or not, we need him to fix the world."

Damocles shook his head, his expression hardening. "I'm sorry, Marinette. There are no more heroes."

His voice was low, almost mournful. He looked into her eyes, and he saw only Marinette. "Ladybug is dead. There is no fight, not without her."

You're not Ladybug anymore. Gabriel's words echo'd through her mind with more power than ever. All her platitudes about hope and heroism meant nothing, because she was no longer a hero, she was just Marinette; and Marinette meant nothing to the people. She was too human.

She dipped her head low, fighting back tears over the emotional gutpunch such a simple observation left her with. She heard people shuffling closer to her.

Damocles spoke again, his voice dry and disconnected. "Gentleman, please escort Marinette and Jagged to their rooms; ensure that they don't do anything they'll regret."

Hands grabbed at her arms and she was carted away from the rest, her judgment already rendered. Still, something within her spurred her to speak as she was taken from the room. "I still believe in you, Mr. Damocles." She said quietly, unsure if Damocles could even hear her. "But I guess that won't matter until you start believing in yourself."

The two were led out of the room by one guard. Marinette refused to raise her head as they went, to look at anyone and see how they saw her. She just let herself be led by the hand to wherever life decided she was worth. Was this it? Was this all she was good for? Was she worthless without Tikki to back her up? Gabriel, fucking Hawkmoth, managed to save her life and all she could do is let him and Juleka rot.

Suddenly, they came to a stop. Marinette's ears perked up, hearing the sound of someone rushing over to them.

"Hey, could I distract you for a second?"

Her head snaps up upon realizing that it's Alec. What did he want? She saw his tapping the guard's shoulder, a duffle bag at his foot and... Why did he have a pool cue in his hand?

The guard turned to Alec, grumbling out a what. "What?"

In one quick motion, Alec pulled back the blunt object and smashed it over the guard's head.

Well, that was clearly the plan.

Instead, the force in which he used to hit the guard instead just caused the weapon to go flying out of Alec's hands. Leaving Alec to sheepishly smile at the guard he failed to knock out.

"Alec, what the hell-"

However, with the guard's back to them, Jagged Stone took the opportunity to tackle the guard to the floor, nailing the man in the head with his head. The man was knocked out in an instant, leaving Jagged to let out a mad laugh and jump to his feet, grinning.

"That's how you do it." He smacked Alec on the shoulder. "Where'd you learn to crack skulls, Alec?"

Alec spluttered out his response, along with mutters of 'ungrateful ass'. "I will not be shamed for not having copious experience knocking people out."

Marinette just stared in stunned silence for a moment, her eyes falling to the unconscious guard on the floor. She could barely stammer out her question. "Alec, you do realize what you're doing, right?" There was no covering this up. The guard would rat Alec out, and everyone would know he'd betrayed the resistance. With this one act, he probably just threw his entire life away.

But Alec didn't seem bothered by that, he just flashed her a thumbs up. "I'm getting you two out of here. Obviously."

Jagged raised his fist in the air, busting out the devil horns and dunking his head. "Rock on, Brother!"

Alec rolled his eyes at Jagged's antics, dropping down to pick up the duffle bag. It looked heavy as he fiddled with it, taking a moment to retrieve a folded piece of a paper and handing it off to Jagged.

"This is a map of Roth's compound, and a bag full of equipment and access cards I snatched while I worked there." He talked in haste, glancing over his shoulder before depositing the rest of the bag into Jagged's arms. "The bald bastard ain't gonna remember to change the locks any time soon, so this should all still work."

Marinette felt her lip wobble as she gazes up at the man who, merely a day ago, was ready to give up on her. "Alec…" She breathed. "Thank you."

The words seemed to have a similar effect on Alec, striking him with surprise before morphing into a warm grin. He shook his head. "No, I'm... I'm sorry. I've been a coward." Alec crouched down to level with her, a mix of shame and envy in his eyes. "You and Hawkmoth have been here for a couple of days and you've taken out two sentimonsters, an akuma, tamed a senti and saved our asses a dozen times over. And neither of you needed special powers to do that."

She feels his hand take over hers, squeezing it tightly. All she can focus on is how much she could feel him tremble, yet she didn't feel scared. He was shaking with fear, but hope shined through his smile.

"I'm sick of running, Marinette. And I'm sick of letting people like Roth walk all over us." He hesitates for a moment, his next words sounding shameful and unearned on his tongue, but he summons the courage to say them anyway. "I'm ready to try to be the hero you saw in me."

He pressed something into her palm and closes her fingers over it. Car keys.

"You remember where we parked? That's your ticket out of here."

Marinette blinked, confused. "Aren't you coming with us?"

He shook his head, gesturing over his shoulder. "I need to make these guys see sense. Three misfits aren't gonna be enough to take Roth down." With that, he pushed himself back to his feet, one hand grasping Jagged's shoulder and one grasping Marinette's. "You two get us a foothold; I'll bring the calvary."

Jagged snorted, lightly punching Alec's arm. "Maybe you aren't such a shit head after all."

Alec scoffed. "Don't get too comfy, Jagged. I still hate your music."

They part ways, time not on their side as they hear distant footsteps advancing upon them, but just as Marinette and Jagged reached the next door, Alec called out to them.

"Oh, and Marinette?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't care what they say, you're still Ladybug to me."

She stopped, frozen in place, the blood pumping to her cheeks until she flushed something fierce. It had been a cold, cold world since she woke up. Yet now, all of the sudden, she felt a warmth passing over her, overcoming her with emotions she didn't know she was holding back.

Marinette didn't realize just how badly she needed to hear that.

---

Past

Adrien didn't know what he expected when found Kagami on his doorstep, looking like she was on the brink of breaking with red, puffy eyes that spoke of a million tears. He just knew that he had never seen Kagami panic before, and that he was gonna need a lot of tissues.

That led him to now, silently watching her pace back and forth in front of the fireplace, though none of the warmth seemed to reach her. She was pale, a ghostly, fearful pale. Not just like she'd see a ghost, but she'd been touched by one.

Kagami's pacing was the only sound filling the room, her footsteps sharp and erratic, like she was trying to outrun something. He wanted to say something, anything, but words felt inadequate when he couldn't even begin to understand what was happening.

She stopped suddenly, her eyes wild, her breath coming in short, frantic gasps. She turned to him, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of it hung in the air. "Adrien... I—I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix it."

He swallowed, trying to catch his breath. Kagami wasn't someone who ever seemed lost. She was strong, determined, always in control. Seeing her like this—broken and vulnerable—made Adrien's heart ache. He stood up, crossing the room to her in a few swift steps, his hand gently touching her arm in an attempt to steady her.

"Kagami, you can talk to me," he said softly, trying to reassure her with a calm that he didn't quite feel. "What's going on? What happened?"

Kagami's breath hitched as she took a step back, her chest rising and falling with the weight of her emotions. The words she wanted to say seemed tangled in her throat, and Adrien could see the struggle in her eyes. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure where to start, but she didn't pull away from him.

"Felix is…" Her voice trembled, and she clenched her fists at her sides as if trying to hold onto some sense of control. "I'm losing him. He's… He's going somewhere that I can't follow anymore."

Adrien's heart twisted at the words, sad at how much sense that made. Felix had become quite the troublesome individual for everyone who knew him by this point, but he had at least assumed that Felix and Kagami were roughly on the same page. What could he have done now?

"What did he do?" Adrien asked softly, carefully, his own anxiety rising.

Kagami's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. "I believed he was a slave, but now I've found out that he's a believer."

Adrien frowned. "I don't understand," he admitted, his confusion deepening. Did she think Lila had been forcing him to assist her at first? Like he had? Had she hoped for Felix's innocence too?

He sighed, he and Kagami were in the same boat after all, desperately hoping for the best from Felix only to be forced to see the truth.

Kagami shook her head slowly, a sad, bitter smile curling at the corners of her lips. "You can't, not yet." She turned away, pacing again, unable to stay still for too long. "There's something I should tell you, something I want to tell you, that would make it all make sense – but I can't."

"You can't?"

He believed her even if he didn't know exactly what she meant. Something dark passed over her every time she tried to mouth specific words, an unseen force reaching out and holding her tongue. By this point in his career, Adrien wasn't going to turn his nose up at the possibility of some magic secret keeping bullshit.

Kagami's shoulders slumped, the weight of her secrets was too much to bear, yet she had too continue to bear it. "And without Felix, I… I don't know who I have anymore." Her voice cracked as the words slipped out, raw and vulnerable. "I don't know who I am anymore."

Adrien reached for her, his voice gentle but firm. "Kagami—"

She cut him off, her voice low, barely audible as she stopped pacing again. "I think you've already figured out who I'm working for, yes?" She hesitated, her eyes darting away, unwilling to meet his gaze. "I know that you're disappointed in me, I am as well, but I'm… I'm trapped."

Adrien's heart ached for her, especially knowing that he had been disappointed in her action, in her remaining with Felix even after he so callously disregarded Marinette. He'd been so dead set on questioning Felix's role in all this that he'd never considered that, just because Felix was a willing participant, didn't mean Kagami was. He'd just naturally assumed that Felix couldn't have dragged Kagami along against her will.

"Kagami," he said, taking another step toward her, his voice steady despite the rising storm in his chest. "I may not know the why's yet, but I do know you. And I believe you." He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You have me. Always."

For a moment, Kagami's eyes softened, her breathing slowing, but the fear and uncertainty never fully left her expression. She looked at him, her gaze filled with gratitude but also an undercurrent of sorrow. "I… don't deserve you, Adrien," she whispered, the words carrying the weight of everything she hadn't said yet.

He gave her an encouraging grin. "Us brooding rich kids have to stick together, right?"

Kagami was a reserved person. She didn't get physical often and didn't show more emotion than she deemed necessary. Which is to say that Adrien was completely taken by surprise when she threw her arms around him and smothered her face into his chest. He held her close, held her tight, and he had the feeling that he was doing a better job at making her feel warm than the fire.

He realized that, without Felix or Marinette, Adrien was probably the only close, personal friend Kagami had left. She enjoyed the company of the rest of their friend group, but that wasn't the same as being able to talk to them about this, or lean on them for comfort she was ashamed to need in the first place.

"I feel like every day I'm losing piece of myself, becoming more like a machine. My body acts against my will, leaving me a prisoner in my own body, watching as some faceless mannequin plays my role." She sniffled into his shirt. "In my mind, I'm still in London, in that damn cell… Powerless."

He remembered how Tomoe treated her in their meeting, how she pushed Kagami to sit in the background, to act as furniture just to give Adrien a friendly face to look at. It was hard to feel like a person when even your mother just sees you as a prop.

"I know it feels like you have no power here, Gami." He said slowly, running his fingers down her back in soothing motions. "But that's what it is, a feeling. We've spent so much of our lives without a choice that we're blinded to the fact that these people only have power over us if we give it to them."

He pushed her back, urging her to look up at him. "And I know you, Gami." He whispered, grinning. "You're way too much of a badass to let anyone keep you down for too long. No one has more power than you."

"It is a kind sentiment, Adrien. But…" Her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth lulled open and her face cringed as if in pain. "Ah, again, I can't give you the actual context; but I'm not being metaphorical…"

Adrien's brow furrowed. "Back at the coffee shop you still found a way to help me in your own way." He said more to himself than anything, trying to make sense of the stray thoughts in his head trying to be helpful. "You can do anything, you just need to find a loophole."

"Right… Right." Kagami nodded, slowly at first, but soon took to vigorously head bobbing to hype herself up. "I need to get a message to the miraculous heroes."

Adrien's brow perked up. "A message?"

Kagami patted his shoulders and broke away, crossing her arms under her chest. "Chrysalis and Argos they've… Created something new with their miraculous." That darkness, that barrier holding her words back, came in flashes. She was needling it, trying to find a way around it. "And they're going to unveil it soon."

"Kagami?"

She hissed, clutching her head as she tried to speak. "They-… They… Called it a Memento." She puffed out, face red with exhaustion and slick with sweat. "I need to warn the heroes before-"

Beeeeeeep.

Beeeeeeeeeep.

Alert! Alert!

Kagami groaned as she snatched Adrien's phone off the table, watching the akuma alert blare at full volume. "No, I'm too late!"

"Calm down, Kagami." Adrien reached for her shoulder, pulling her back to him with a soft smile and an encouraging squeeze. "You've already helped me enough."

In that moment her eyes rounded on him, flickering in confusion at the wording of his assurance. However, before she could try and piece it together or dismiss it, her eyes conveniently found themselves resting on the hand that grasped her shoulder, the one that wore a particular silver ring she'd never questioned before.

Something clicked in her mind. "…I see."

And suddenly, she was clam, pulling her arms behind her and offering Adrien a sad, but determined smile. Adrien was surprised by the tinge of admiration that accompanied her mood shift.

"Adrien?" She said softly.

"Yeah?"

"If you are who I think you are…" Her finger brushed over his ring, and suddenly Adrien understood as well. "Don't hold back on my account, you hear me?"

---

Next Time: Surface Pressure

Nadia stared into the tv monitor, watching the chaos of the latest akuma and/or sentimonster unfold before her, and all she could summon is apathy. The years had worn away at her sense of wonder, and even her sense of danger, the attacks so routine that at this point, Hawkmoth or Chrysalis, she couldn't find the will to be amazed any more. Maybe it was because she'd already decided that she and Manon were going to be on the next train out of Paris as soon as she handed in her resignation. Paris was too crazy for her, she needed to go somewhere with normal stories where her daughter wasn't at risk of transforming into a maniacal super villain or get kidnapped by some shape-shfiting freak.

At the very least, the attack had the bennefit of cancling her interview with some task force spokeperson today.

"I remember when you'd rush to the scene to get a good view of a fight like this." She leaned back in her chair, catching Alec picking at the catering selection behind her.

She shrugged, "Guess I'm just getting too old for this."

"That doesn't sound like the Nadia I know." Alec narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips. "Are you a sentimonster?"

Nadia sniggered, "Hell if I know." She turned her seat around, the TV left in the past, looking up at Alec curiously. "Are you not tired of all this ruckus yet?"

"Nah, I think I'll always have a love for the job. I look too good on camera to do anything else." He dramatically sweeped back the holden locks of his wig. "Why, are you thinking of quiting?"

"I'm handing in my two weeks notice as soon as I finish covering that press conference."

"Press conference?"

"The Task Force are putting together an emergency conference later today. Well, if this akuma wraps up in time." Nadia rested her chin on her palm. "I've got front row heckling seats for it, apparently they uncovered some shocking information for the public." She threw herself back in her seat, sighing. "I hope it isn't any changes to the evacuation protocols. I swear, at this rate they're gonna end up quarantining all fo Paris to stop Sentimonsters from getting out."