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2024-12-31
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2025-04-21
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𝕸𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖘: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖊𝖘

Summary:

!Miraculous(and the characters) do not belong to me!

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"This wasn't supposed to happened.."

"How amusing. Since the beginning you all were my little dolls to play with. Sadly you became boring... And now, it's time for new playthings, don't you think?"

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(my personal re-write of the show because why not)

Notes:

Hello everyone, just to clarify, Miraculous tales of Ladybug and Cat noir, the story and its characters do not belong to me. This story is just for fun honestly, and also it helps me practice my writing skills. There will be mature themes, and I will put trigger warnings in each such chapter. English isn´t my first language.

Chapter 1: Prolog

Summary:

❗❗❗❗❗

!!!𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!!!
𝗧𝗪: 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗲, 𝘀𝗮𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗼𝘂𝘁.

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Chapter Text

Light red, soft pink, a bit of lilac, and finally a bright bluish that developed into the dark night coat that colored the sky, that shone with its beauty to the creatures. The clouds swayed lazily and were carried by the quiet wind. It was a peaceful evening. Few birds sang their songs, rather they were preparing to rest.

Inhale, exhale. It was a hard day.

I'm finally free and maybe even healthy. I'm well to some point and I had a wonderful feeling of love, happiness, and joy. The sadness over me no longer had its strength it left my mind and my body.

But still...Only for one day, only for one hour, I wish I could rest where only I and my mind are present. Only one moment where I and my body will be myself and no one will judge me for it. No evil or butterflies spoiled by gloom. No one would be in the grip of their harmful diseases.

No one would be afraid of their emotions. My partner, who knows where he is, will always help me, but why does he look so burned out? Who will save our country if not us?

Who will carry the burden? I'm starting to feel sick to my stomach, just that, I think, my mind is starting to turn black, I can't see into the distance and the section I can still see is shortening.

 

In a moment in the darkness, there will be two glowing cat eyes watching every movement of the citizens. If I'm not careful enough the cat's eyes will find me and scare me like always. I should finish my task, so why can't I get up? My brain has closed stubbornly and is not cooperating with me. Has it always been that way? I shake from the coldness. November is over and my suit won't be able to keep me warm. My eyes were forced to roll up to the sky.

It's time. My weapon started to tingle, oh yes, what great technology. I opened my yo-yo in one motion, it was him and his feline smile. ,,Hello," he smiled at me, despite my fatigue, I noticed how his smile didn't reach his eyes, how his face was curled into pain, "Little bug, why so sad? You don't have to worry. I've slept beautifully so far like a cat in a den and I'm ready to guard the night! "It was a lie. He tried to hide it behind his confidence. He didn't want his partner to be afraid. He loved her and was suffering as he was looking at her grief.

It was painful for him to get up and try to stay on his feet..., go to work, be with his family and friends and then guard on another sleepless night in Paris. She told him countless times he shouldn't go to work and let her take care of that matter, but he wouldn't budge.

Because of her inattention, she missed how his partner was already by her side.

"I think it's time." He sat down next to her as they witnessed a dark butterfly almost invisible to the black night. They both held their breath and just looked at another victim of negative emotions in this city.

"No, we can't! He didn't command us yet." Over the years, he could read her mind on the battlefield like a master as she could read his. "You know very well what impact it would have on our power and on us, kitty!"

"Shouldn't ladybugs be the symbol of everything beautiful, clear and innocent? I guess the fatigue speaks for you. And by the way-.."And what if it does speak for me?!" I slammed my fist into the roof of the house, making a smaller hole, "I hate all of this. So what if it's against the rules?! I can't protect them anymore."

The darkness finally absorbed the unfortunate being, who began to destroy everything around them. If these two won't move immediately it'll be difficult to explain why they did not prevent the damage and didn't take care of it as soon as possible. ,,I understand, but he'll find us and-...
"So what if he finds us?! We are just the rest of what we once were. Look at us! Your hair is starting to grow grey and I have a wrinkled face! If it weren't for the mask, he would see us as retirees."

"We are not that old. Our oldest child is only in college. I hope you don't plan to give our miracles to our children?"

"Definitely no. I don't know if we should tell them, but they'll figure it out anyway. What I'm afraid of is looking for a replacement." The butterfly creature continued to destroy the city, and the two of them just watched. "Look at them. They're trying to find us, but they're going the other way, heh." He had a faint grin.

After a while, he chose to speak again.

"I think I know how to find another successor, but it will be difficult ... do you have the strength?" She sighed sweetly with victory. She smiled at how she could convince him.

"Yes. Is this the last butterfly?"
"The last butterfly."

It's time for the next generation of superheroes.

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Chapter 2: Beginning of all

Summary:

❗❗❗❗

!!!𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!!!
𝗧𝗪: 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗮𝗻𝘅𝗶𝗲𝘁𝘆

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Chapter Text

Ladybug's miraculum, the most enticing of its beauty, and also extremely powerful. However, its shadow, the cat's miraculum, is frightening with its power and darkness. Both are in need of each other and together they can be the end of everything alive, not just on Earth. There were the first miracles ever.

Creation and destruction go hand in hand, without one the other can't live.

They were created to help not only humans but also animals and other magic creatures. Naturally, back in the old days, kwamis were not the only magic beings in our universe, there were millions of such beings. However, no one could see them, so for everyone they simply didn't exist.

One faithful day a tiny circle of people appeared who could perceive more than others. It was lots of losses trying to make a deal with something you thought didn't exist.

The others considered them liars , wizards, filthy rats and they paid even the most valuable thing they had: their lives, but one succeeded. At that time, it was no longer just a small handful of kwamis but thousands, scattered all over our planet. It is not known why they were interested in our planet and if there are more.

"We are surely extremely fortunate for their gift and existence. And as gratitude from us to them, we build many shrines to remember their power. And train many young ones to be the next guardians of such a present from above. Nevertheless, the gift being in the wrong hands can lead to disaster. It is not yet known whether the kwamis have the true form, if any."

The older man shuddered as an old memory appeared in front of his eyes. He clenched his heavy chest with his hand. In the small room, where in the middle of the free space he sat, there could only be heard deep breaths and scared whimpers. His eyes darted from one point to another, his ears ringing annoyingly as well as the uneasiness towering in his body. After he calmed down, the first thought he had was the need for water for his dry mouth.

The feeling of burning and clutching in his chest is a problem but a glass of water should help, no? Well, it didn't help, or at least not how he wanted it to. There was still the emotion of restlessness and burning.

"Master?" A soft, whistling voice came from around the corner of the room. The old man just sighed and smiled, forgetting for a moment that his friend was still with him. "Master?" The voice sounded more and more anxious and careful.

The old man finally turned to the source of this voice just to scream in fear and slip on the floor. The little creature was right next to his face, although his voice seemed to be in the distance, he was sure he hadn't heard it so close.

Is it because he's getting older? ,,Master! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you! "The old man just waved it off and went to make tea for himself and his friend. Wayzz, the name given to him and which he bears with pride, could only watch anxiously as Master Fu poured the boiled water of the medicinal herb in one large cup and in one small cup, just for some little creature. "May I ask, what scared you so much , Master?" His wrinkled hands jerked and stopped pouring water, gently placing the kettle in its proper place. He leaned against the table and watched the rising steam in the cups.

Another unnecessary and worrying sigh did not miss him. What was going through his mind?

He asked himself though the solution was not answered. His friend landed on his shoulder and asked again if he needed anything. The old man simply smiled like a cunning fox and reminded him of that one bad incident where the little turtle was trying to pick up a full human teapot and pour tea for the master. For a human hand, such a burden is nothing, but for a small being like him, the heaviness was huge, and it could have turned out badly without one's magic. the little one just scoffed, "that was a long time ago and I´ve gotten much stronger!" He angrily mumbled.

That day truly vanished into time and Master can hardly remember it. Believe it or not, the master himself, even though the stupid old man doesn't want to admit it, is starting to forget more and more.

"Wayzz, my friend, I saw a terrible event. The ladybugs and the cat's miraculum have been lost."

There was a moment of silence in the room, one would even be able to hear a pin fall to the ground. Both needed time to process the information given to them without any explanation. They couldn't even believe how the two biggest miracles could just get lost? A scathing atmosphere swept past them, pressing on their hearts and minds. They couldn't think properly, and the only thing the two felt was fear and sadness.

The two single emotions at first glance are so harmless but enormously massive. "P-pardon me?" The creature said it painfully slow and had to take a deep breath.
However, it was an overwhelming truth, the master couldn't feel those two beings and place their existence. Merely the thought of being more of a disappointment than he already was crushed him along with those hidden nightmares he so hardly tries to erase and ignore.

Wayzz still didn't give up; "Master, that can't be true! You can feel them, right? What are we gonna do?! What if THEY have those miraculous? We would surely be doomed!

"My old friend, we must first calm down and start looking at it differently. You can't solve anything with an anxious mind, remember that." However, his friend was only capable of wondering how could his master be so calm in this difficult situation ?!
Well, the truth is that he himself isn't, but he always had the talent of masking his true emotions.

The magic book, which carried thousands of stories and more than a thousand secrets, was in the heavy embrace of one too-old man with even more secrets. The thick, powerful book volume shone with a beautifully soft, involuntary color. Every heart and every eye wants to see only what is close to them so it's no surprise this book reflects on it. Sometimes that glow can be harmful, it contains knowledge that is perhaps greater than the universe itself, so the human race to this power is as harmful as little forgetful ants.

"Ladybug´s miraculous is harmful by its beauty and appeal. The shadow of it, the cat miracle, carries darkness with its every step, so it is a difficult truth compared to the wonderful lies." Wayzz knows the sentence a little too much perhaps, Master thought.

"I can't imagine the burden it can carry on those two fallen souls." The Master frowned in tears of grief.

He and his friend could only look at the glow of the two connected lights. Red and black.

Meanwhile, the city of love was quiet The stars have a great time dancing with the moon and together they shine brightly in the sky. The high heavens are almost cleared of white lambs that were so busy playing with the wind in the daytime.

The other lambs disobediently let themselves be led by the light wind along with the summer mood, everything seemed perfect. The lights of some of the houses still did not go off, one such example being a small, rather insignificant bakery. The baker's daughter flew from the first corner to the second and then to the third, worriedly plucking her hair. Papers of various drawings of clothes are scattered in all directions in her room, as well as countless design aids. In that hurry, she didn't notice the mysterious figure watching her with a smile.

The box had been lying there for some time, but the young anxious girl still couldn't notice.

"Never mind that, you'll learn from your mistakes in your way of superheroism. I'm sorry I threw it at you like that, but I'm sure you are the perfect candidate for white magic. I will pray for you to survive the test. But something tells me you can get through anything."

The figure's shadow smiled slightly and disappeared into the darkness.

The other shadowy figure laughed foxily at the blond prince huddled in the expensive duvets of the bed. ,,You have a big house, I have to admit, boy. Still, your camera system was trash compared to my skills and talent, " he chuckled.

"I'm sorry for the misery I gave you. "

Like the first shadow, this one has disappeared into the brightness of moonlight. After a while, the young girl decided to go to bed. After all, for what awaits them, they both need to get a good night's sleep and gain as much strength as possible.

Chapter 3: Troubles for the troubled one

Summary:

❗❗❗❗

!!!𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!!!
𝗧𝗪: 𝗔𝗻𝘅𝗶𝗲𝘁𝘆, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗰𝘁

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Notes:

Ok, so if anyone is already here reading this, sorry for not posting sooner – my life has been pretty busy. Oops. Also, this chapter was a bit of a drag, and honestly, writing in English is quite difficult for me because I don’t know enough adjectives and I struggle to enrich the text. I don’t want to keep describing the same character with the same words over and over again, because that would be boring not only for me but also for the readers.

I want to get better, but honestly – if I could choose, I’d just skip straight to the "already better stage." Sorry, that’s just my laziness talking. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and thanks for reading!

Chapter Text

The sun was shining and burning like crazy. Today was especially hot, and every citizen who was forced to be outside on this difficult day did everything they could to cool down, even just a little. There wasn't a single flock of white sheep visible in the azure sky—each one had evaporated before the sun's glare, none of them had a chance to appear even for a minute and provide a bit of shade. The surrounding vegetation also clearly showed its suffering—flowers were dying of thirst, greenery was fading before one's eyes. No animal was visible within reach of the sun's rays, and if one was, it was a rare sight. Every creature, whether big or small, furry or feathered, was hidden in the shadows.

People who were unlucky enough to be exposed to the light of that giant in the deep sky blue occasionally complained to each other about the weather—but only if they were lucky enough to stop for a moment. The rest were rushing towards their destinations.

"I can't take this, I'm not built for this!" one voice sounded, but it was immediately interrupted by another:

"Don't take off that scarf, you'll get heatstroke! Here, take this, you're drinking too little..."

A bit further away, other voices:

"Did you see what she was wearing today? Horrible! People are just looking for an excuse to dress ugly!"

The wind blew gently, playing with the greenery of the surrounding trees and tearing off pieces of their curls—small and large leaves of various shapes floated in the air, dancing to the rhythm of the breeze. Bits of greenery were seen in the air, but it was unknown which direction the wind was blowing or where it was carrying its loot. However, a few of these leaves strayed into one of the streets.

It was a small, insignificant, dark alley, where the sun's rays struggled stubbornly to reach—neither the glare nor the heat could penetrate here. This little street wasn't far from the city center, yet it was certainly not close to the hustle and bustle of busy lives. Even here, however, one could hear various tones and melodies of human voices, whether laments or joyful songs—one could find everything here.

Various voices echoed from different directions, but one weak and quiet voice was the most sorrowful of all.

"I'll never finish this!" cried a black-haired girl as she collapsed onto a pile of boxes. It was in that very secluded street far from the city center, in a bakery where a family was preparing to move—and for one person, it was especially hard.

A faint breeze blew in through the open window, barely enough for the slightest relief, while dust danced in the air and settled on the large, old boxes that were barely holding together.

"How the hell am I supposed to shove everything in there when it's already bursting at the seams and about to fall apart any second? This is a nightmare, right? I might as well... just give up on everything! For fuck's sake!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, the girl grabbed her hair and pulled so hard that one might think she was trying to tear it all out. Maybe she wouldn't even need to—at times, it looked like the stress would make it fall out on its own. She let out a sigh, but a warning flashed through her mind. She clamped a hand over her mouth and fearfully glanced toward her bedroom door. Had her parents heard her?
Her palms started to sweat. On tiptoe, she crept to the door, carefully opened it, and widened her eyes and ears. Silence. No one was there.

With cautious steps, she slipped out of her room and peeked into the rest of their already tiny apartment. Their new place was supposed to be even smaller, and just the thought of it made her stomach twist with fear. "Everything is taken care of," her father kept repeating to her and her mother. They just needed to move and stuff as much as they could into the car.

This new apartment was much farther from her school, and she had overheard her parents discussing whether it might be better to transfer her to a closer one. But more than that, she was surprised to realize she was considering it herself. A fresh start wouldn't be so bad. With new people who didn't know her. Who hadn't had the time to judge her yet.

With every step, she thought about it more and more. Was there even a single thing holding her here?

She scoffed with amusement. Yeah, right. As if.

It seemed like there was no one here to hear her cries into the dark. Her eyes drifted across the smooth, white apartment, filled only with boxes and furniture that had already been there.

She sighed heavily, leaned against one of the walls, and slid down to the floor. Her gaze landed on the ceiling. It was so white. Cold and empty.

Her parents would only return to this place for work. She had already quit her part-time job and started looking for another, in a new field. It was disheartening. She didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it. She didn't want to be ungrateful to her family. She felt a tear slide down her cheek. She no longer knew where to find hope or strength. She was tired. Whenever someone asked her about the future, she would change the subject.

How was she supposed to explain her fear and confusion? Another sigh. She bit her lip. A lump formed in her throat, making it hard to breathe. She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug painfully into her skin.

She wouldn't cry.

Not now.

"Sweetheart, are you here?"

A melodic, soft voice rang out – as beautiful as only her mother's could be. She quickly wiped her tears, jumped up, and went to meet her mother.

"Yes, I'm here. I was just packing a few things."

"Marinette, darling, don't tell me you're not packed yet?" The older woman, her expression serious. Her daughter could only look at her apologetically.

"There's no time, come on, let me help you."

"Alright, thanks, Mom."

It was easier and quicker when they worked together. In no time, everything was packed, as best as it could be.

"Sweetheart, what's this little box?"

The girl turned to her mother and saw the strange object in her hands. It was a small black box with a red ornament. The girl quickly took it from her, stared at it for a moment, then casually dropped it into her small handbag.

"I don't know, probably something I forgot I had and just found."

It was a lie. She realized she could have lied better. She didn't receive that many gifts. She always had to earn money for both the necessary and unnecessary things – and there was never much of it, so she couldn't just stash things away. And even if she did get a gift, it was always the same: various types of fabric and supplies to make clothing.
Her wardrobe was bursting at the seams with the pile of these gifts and her creations, which were carefully and gently wrapped at the very bottom of one of the boxes. They were the first things she reached for when she was told to pack. Suddenly, she felt an unusual pressure. Her throat tightened, and a foreign weight appeared on her chest, gripping the place where her heart was. It kept beating faster and faster. Was it trying to escape from her chest?
She caught herself wishing she could run away. But to where?

How many times had she tried to escape from her life into another—one that was rosier, one that was built just for her?

She clenched the hoodie where her heart lay.

She could feel it.

And that scared her even more.

What comes next?

Would there ever be a time when she wouldn't feel anxious about the daily tasks?

Her eyes started to sting—clear sign that she had to return to reality.

She shook her head.

"I just wanted to tell you," her mother said, ,,that if you ever have a boyfriend, he won't be too pleased with how messy you are."

"Mom!!"

It was late, Luna, the sister of the Sun, had long taken the scepter and reign over the sky. The heavens had donned their evening coat, scattered with stars. In the endless lake of both large and small stars, Queen Luna watched over her nightly kingdom. Just like the day, the evening was pure, without a single cloud.

She and her parents—all three were exhausted to the core. The girl, with the last of her strength, looked at their new home. The apartment had just one bedroom, but her parents had converted the living room into another, adjacent to the kitchen. A little further on was a small room divided by a wall into two halves—a bathroom with a narrow shower, and the other side serving as a toilet. That was all.
Thankfully, with the greatest love, her parents gave her the smaller, private room. They had settled for the new one themselves—if it could even be called a room. Swapping the couch for a double bed wasn't much of an upgrade, but after a whole day of unpacking, it at least reminded them of their old bedroom.
She sighed sadly, walked over to the window, and leaned on the windowsill. A barely noticeable falling star caught her attention. She closed her eyes and made a wish in her mind.

For a moment, she stood there, her gaze wandering down the hallway as if searching for some reason not to return to her room just yet. But she knew well enough why she didn't want to turn toward the door. Inside, there was chaos—her suitcase was still half-unpacked, clothes scattered about, books carelessly thrown across the table. She hadn't had enough time to properly unpack and tidy up. Everything had happened too quickly, too suddenly. She couldn't shake the anxious feeling tightening her chest, making it harder to breathe.

Her legs trembled weakly. She tried to convince herself it was from the cold, but that wasn't true. It was deep in the night, but the air was still warm. Summer was nearing its end, but it still held its strength. Maybe it wasn't the cold, but fear? Once summer was over, the new school year would begin. More duties, more stress. Would she even have time for herself? For her thoughts? To sort everything out in her head?

Suddenly, a memory of that little box flashed in her mind. A foreign, unfamiliar object that had appeared in her room. How did it get there? She couldn't remember ever buying it. She had never seen anything like it before. And yet, when her mother had asked about it, she had lied. She didn't even know why. Something inside her had made her say that lie. Something had forced her to.

It was a voice. It was a feeling. And she had listened to it.

With a sigh, she rolled her eyes and reached for the box. Her fingers lightly touched the lid. Slowly, she lifted it... and almost immediately regretted it. She held her breath and quickly pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from screaming. She couldn't make a sound. Her parents were asleep. If she woke them, what would she say? How could she explain what she had seen? She quickly backed away to the other end of the room and threw the box onto the bed. It landed silently, but what was inside stirred. And no, it wasn't just an object. It was... a creature.

Small, red, with glowing eyes. It floated in the air, cautiously approaching as if it were as scared as she was.

The girl tried to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding wildly. "Who are you?!" she screamed. ,,Some nasty flying red mouse? Or some kind of bug? Bug-mouse?!"

The little creature shook its head in discontent. "I'm not any flying mouse!" it replied indignantly. "I'm a kwami. My name is Tikki. Greetings, human. However... I don't understand why I'm here. Where is..."

The girl furrowed her brow. "Alright, can you repeat the first part normally so I can understand? And why don't you know what you're doing here?! I'm the one asking questions! What the hell are you?!"

Marinette was about to continue her tirade when she suddenly noticed the vacant look in Tikki's... uh, the creature's eyes. It seemed pitiful. The girl felt as if the strange creature might even be crying. Suddenly, a wild, strong, and cold wind blew through the room. The air around her froze, chilling to the temperature that drew frost from invisible corners. The room, which had just moments ago been warm and cozy, began to change. The walls started losing their texture, as tiny, fragile ice crystals formed on them. The floor, once wooden and smooth, began to be covered by a thin layer of ice that slowly slid and scraped with every movement.

The wind, as if it had appeared out of nowhere, swept around her, and the room began to be engulfed by cold, wrapping around her like an icy blanket. The air grew heavy, full of frost, seeping into every corner of the room. Frozen crystals gathered in every corner, and an icy veil began to form around the windows and glass. The furniture, which had once been warm and comforting, was now covered in a fine layer of frost, spreading across the walls as the coldness insidiously crept throughout the room.

Marinette fell to the floor, the icy gust of wind knocking her down. She curled into a ball, shivering from the cold and fear. Every exhale was tainted by the freezing air that filled her lungs. "Get out! No one wants you here! Take your weirdness and go!" she cried desperately.

"I can't... I don't know... I can't remember..." Tikki clutched her small head, her eyes filled with tears, but they were so vague, as if covered by a gray veil. "What's happening?" she whispered. "It hurts..." Tikki sighed and collapsed to the ground, continuing to sob. "It hurts!" Her faint voice, despite the strength of the wind, was still audible, but the freezing air muffled it, as if all sound in the room was covered by a thick blanket of ice.

Marinette was horrified. Could her parents hear this? Had she woken them up? How could she explain this? She tried to get up, but despite all her effort, her trembling hands failed to lift her. She fell back to the ground. Her eyes stung, exposed to the growing cold. Every movement felt slow, stiff, as her fingers turned to pieces of frozen glass. With every attempt to raise her head, it became harder, as though the ice spreading through the room was obstructing her movements. The cold was suffocating her, preventing any reaction. She felt her body growing heavier and colder, slowly turning into something hard, cold, and motionless.

She opened her eyes. This had to be a nightmare! But one glance at the room, covered in a layer of ice and snow, immediately shattered any thought of escaping this reality. The room was completely frozen. The windows were now covered in a thick layer of frost, and the floor was slippery and dangerous. The air around her was heavy and frigid, and as she took a deep breath, she felt the cold penetrate her lungs. The air was cold, repellent, as if with every breath a layer of ice was building up in her throat.

With newfound determination, she stubbornly stood up and rushed to the window. With a crash, she managed to close it slightly, but it wasn't enough to shut it fully. The cold and wind still seeped in. She turned and leaned back against the window. Her gaze fell on Tikki. "P—please, help me..." Her voice trembled from the cold, and tears froze on her cheeks. Her heart raced, and she could hardly breathe. Her eyes began to close involuntarily, as the cold and fatigue made every movement harder.

Suddenly, it was all gone. Just as it had started, it ended. The room was no longer a winter storm; instead, it was warm, and the window was closed—wait. She quickly turned her head, and indeed—the window was firmly shut and locked. She raised her hands—there was no sign of frost. Cautiously, she touched her face, nose, ears, but everything was perfectly fine! Her legs—now that she looked—were also fine, but she wasn't confident enough to stand. She sat there, still, staring at a single spot on the floor.

A minute passed, then a second, followed by a third and fourth, but the girl still sat in the same place, motionless. Her gaze, now lifeless, was fixed only on that single spot on the floor—there lay her favorite plushie, the one her mother had made for her when she was much younger, when she couldn't even reach the doorknob. Now, a little worn, it still seemed just as beautiful to her. She carefully stretched out her hand, but to her surprise, instead of her plushie, another creature appeared in her sight. It was familiar...

A breath in and out, she closed her eyes for a moment. Carefully, she shifted into a cross-legged position and exhaled. Her eyes still closed, unsure whether to open them...

Then... something slid into her lap—she opened her eyes, and it was the same plushie that had been lying on the distant spot on the room's floor. And behind the plushie was the same red creature.

"Hello, my name is Tikki."

...

"H—hello," the girl paused for a moment, feeling like she should trust Tikki, but something in the back of her mind told her this was dangerous, that something had already happened... what? What had happened? Why was she thinking like this? She felt like someone had cut off her thoughts. Something wasn't right, something had happened, hadn't it? She kept staring into the creature's eyes, seeing its deep blue eyes—how beautiful.

She slowly raised her finger, and the creature approached her, offering her its paw—they touched. A calm sensation and relief passed through her body, and she smiled. It didn't seem evil...

Why would it be evil?

 

"My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

A smile appeared on the little red creature's face.
"Nice to meet you, Marinette." As soon as the girl's name was spoken, the creature looked around the room and, with the utmost caution, began to explore the new environment. The black-haired girl noticed the curiosity in its gaze and curled up, suddenly feeling sad and awkward about the mess in her tiny room with its cold, white walls and ceiling.

She attempted to apologize, but Tikki immediately interrupted her, as if she knew exactly what Marinette wanted to say. ,,You have a beautiful and cozy place here!" The red creature giggled as it saw the utter shock and confusion on the face of its new owner. "Every room should radiate your personality, it should be you, the real you inside, and it doesn't matter if it's messy or full of a stormy nature. Things like that always fascinated me and were so interesting about humans. You people are so primitive yet complex. There's so much to know with just a glance, but you can't judge too much! Oh, what a treasure!"

...

Absolute silence, except for a few silent, deep sighs, filled the room. Marinette had fallen asleep.

Chapter 4: The Start of New Bonds

Summary:

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!!!!𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!!!!!
𝗧𝗪: 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵/𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴
𝗧𝗪: 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗹𝗲𝘀, 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴.

❗❗❗❗❗

Notes:

Author’s Note (Please read before the chapter):

Hey! Before you dive into the chapter, I just wanted to say something real quick. I recently realized I made kind of a big mistake while writing. I think it’s because I’m so used to writing in my native language that I didn’t even notice it at first. When I tried to write dialogue, I used this format: ,,....“ — which is correct in my language, but in English, it should be written like this: "...."

Sorry for the confusion! I’ll go back and edit the previous chapters so everything makes more sense. It’s a little embarrassing, haha—oops..

Anyway! The next chapter will focus on Adrien. We’re also getting close to the actual beginning of the main story. I needed to write these first few chapters to help set up the lore I’ve planned for this fanfic. Oh, and by the way—some of the characters’ outfits have been changed a bit, including their superhero designs. Just a heads-up!
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Chapter Text

"Okay, so let's start from the beginning. Slowly. And preferably in Chinese, so I can understand you better."

The girl who had just spoken was staring at her reflection in the mirror with open curiosity – while also noticing how her new companion didn't appear in the reflection at all. As if she wasn't even there. Marinette felt confused and angry. From the outside, it must have looked like she was some crazy girl talking to herself and making everything up.

She paused. A thought struck her – could that little creature even speak her native language? She realized she didn't really know anything about it! And what it had told her... didn't make any sense anyway.

"Wait, sorry, but I have to ask – do you even know anything about humans, about their languages and speech? Wait, no, that's the wrong question... Yesterday you spoke to me in French. That makes no sense!"

The dark-haired girl spun angrily toward her strange visitor – a small red dot that was currently hovering in the air and rummaging curiously through her bag.

"STOP THAT! Get out of that bag right now! Those are personal things! Have you never heard of something called privacy?!"

Tikki finally looked at Marinette, giggled, and let out a cheerful squeal as she darted away – just in time. Marinette's hand slammed down on the spot where she had been floating only moments before. Marinette hissed in pain, clutched her injured hand, and pressed it to her lips.

"I'm sorry, Marinette," said Tikki, still smiling, though now a little sheepishly. Her reaction had clearly amused and touched her at the same time.

"So you... you really can speak Chinese??"

The little creature twirled through the air and chirped excitedly:

"Of course! I'm a being of creativity. Whenever something is created, I sense it. I see it, I know it, I understand it. I am a creature of independent light, which was once also created. My opposite is a being of destruction – of decay, disappearance, and darkness. Whenever something or someone ceases to exist, he feels it, knows it, understands it. And forgive my behavior – I can't help myself. Everything here is so new, so fascinating! You humans have come such a long way in such a short time. Who would have thought those early primates would turn into something remarkable... Plagg always had his doubts..." Tikki added the last sentence in a quieter, more playful tone, almost like she was sharing an inside joke.

But Marinette heard it loud and clear.

Marinette stayed silent. She didn't know if she should feel honored by the praise or offended by the sarcastic tone. Would it be childish to get offended just like that?

Her mother had once told her that at her age, it was no longer appropriate to take things so personally – that it was childish. But does that still apply when you've got a tiny red being floating in front of you, who's far too curious for her small size?

The dark-haired girl sighed and carefully stretched. First her neck, then her back – and she groaned in pain again. For the fifth time that day.

Tikki immediately flew closer and began showering her with questions:

"Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot? Don't you want to rest today?"

The truth was, sleeping on the floor wasn't exactly comfortable – not even when you woke up with a pillow under your head and a blanket over you. Marinette wondered where the alien companion had found the strength to support her head while she slept. But as usual, she chose to stay silent. She had a feeling that whatever the explanation was, she wouldn't like it – and maybe, sometimes, not knowing is more practical. And more beautiful.

"Tikki, would you like to properly look around my room and see everything I have? Of course, under my supervision," the girl smiled. "I think you didn't really have the time yesterday... though I'm not even sure why."

She stumbled over her words. This morning had felt completely automatic. She had gone to the bathroom to freshen up, thought about what to have for breakfast, and what her parents might need help with. She hadn't thought about why she had slept on the floor. She hadn't questioned why her head hurt every time she tried to remember last night – what exactly had happened.

Her stream of thoughts was interrupted when Tikki suddenly appeared beside her – just as she was brushing her teeth. Nearly choking on her toothpaste and toothbrush was just the cherry on top of everything that had already happened.

"Of course, Mari! Oh, can I call you Mari? You know, we don't know each other very well yet, but I like your name! I wanted to give you a nickname because I love nicknames. Do you like nicknames? Every one of my owners was different – which, of course, makes sense, haha – but a lot of them didn't like nicknames. They always got mad at me when I called them like that. Actually, some of them were already upset just because I asked... You don't mind, do you? I think it's not just about personality – one of my owners once said it also depends on culture. What's your culture like? Do you give each other nicknames?"

Marinette had already experienced several moments in her sixteen years of life when she felt the urge to rip her ears off—or shoot herself in the head, anything, just so she wouldn't have to listen anymore. And this was definitely one of those moments.
Her tired eyes slid over to Tikki, who kept chattering like a broken alarm clock. The girl wondered if showing Tikki her room and having to explain all the things inside was really as good of an idea as it had seemed a few moments ago.
Without hesitation, she decided to act. She tossed her toothbrush into the cup, rinsed her mouth and face, and quietly—on tiptoe—started sneaking away as fast and unnoticed as possible.
As her hand reached behind her, carefully feeling for the doorknob, her mother's voice rang out:
"Marinette, can you help me for a moment?"

With a heavy sigh, the girl got dressed in three steps and ran toward the source of the call.

It turned out her mother needed a bit of help in the kitchen. Marinette jumped in immediately—and in less than a minute, everything was cleaned and breakfast was ready.

"I'm going out today. To explore new things," she announced, watching her parents' reactions carefully. "Maybe... I'll find something."

"Maybe some friends," her mother suggested with a smile. "It really wouldn't hurt to make some here. You've got a new chance—now that you're starting at a different school."

Memories surfaced instantly in Marinette's mind. Her old school—the one now more than 8,000 kilometers away, in her home country.
Even though she tried to hold it together, she couldn't help it—she felt a twinge of sadness. Her current life had been one move after another. And even though this was only the third, it already felt like three were far too many.

They promised adventure, she thought bitterly. Said it would be amazing—moving from China to France.
They just forgot to mention how draining the paperwork and settling in would be, even with her grandmother's help. And then came the cultural shock, which the black-haired girl still couldn't get over.
Her entire life felt like a tightrope, swinging back and forth—one moment closer to her father and France, the next to her mother and China.

She wondered how the rest of the family was holding up—still living in the place she grew up.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a single, quiet tear. It slid down her cheek so subtly that her parents didn't even notice. Thank God.

She wished for a calmer life—one carved in stone, steady and predictable. Maybe that would be better.

The memories returned like a tidal wave.
She remembered the stress that overwhelmed her mind—and eventually, her body. The nights she cried herself to sleep, curled up on the cold bathroom floor, clutching the toilet as she emptied the food she had forced herself to eat.
She felt that pain, that loss, that sorrow and panic. The emptiness in her stomach. The doubts. The fear. Her parents' ignorance. The distrust from her family. Her own body turning against her.
That feeling was unforgettable. Her mind on one side, her body on the other—and her stuck in between. In a web that slowly tore her apart. All she could do was watch. Sick, helpless.
Unable to change anything. Unable to save herself.

Her gaze focused on something within reach—a dusty old TV set. A model from her grandparents. Dust always settled on it, no matter how often they cleaned it.
Her father used it for the news—and sometimes for cartoons.
Next to the TV stood a little cabinet filled with all the CDs the family owned. Most of them were animated films. One of them had always been her favorite. Even though she'd watched it countless times, she still loved it.

She was jolted from her thoughts again—this time by a sound coming from the old TV box.

"One of the biggest fashion designers has just spoken! From his words, we can tell that a new spring collection is approaching, which will be presented this fall..."

Marinette didn't catch the rest—the TV was turned off by her father. She knew there was no point in arguing over something as trivial as changing the channel, especially today, when her father had taken a day off so they could finish what they hadn't gotten to yesterday.

Which reminds me—I should get out of here before they changes their minds and keep me inside.

With that decision, she quickly shoved the rest of her food into her mouth, ran to the bathroom to check her appearance, made a few final tweaks, and decided to head out. Not that it helped.

"You look nice today, Mari," came a voice behind her.

She stopped so suddenly in her tracks that she bumped into the entrance door. "Since when do we go by nicknames? And what are you even saying...?" she mumbled, rubbing her sore nose. Hopefully, it's not too red.

"What do you mean?" She adds, confusion in her voice was more than obvious.

"Exactly what I'm saying," Tikki replied with a smile full of mystery, but her attention didn't stay in one place for too long. "Hey, what's this?"

In the air, bathed in morning sunlight, a small glowing red light was flying. It was quick and tiny like a fairy, darting from one point to another. Right behind it, a smaller girl was running, trying with great effort to catch the light.

Marinette's house quickly disappeared from view, but she barely noticed – her gaze was fixed on the red little creature that was leading her somewhere.

"No, Tikki!" she suddenly shouted. "Come here! No one must see you!"

Tikki immediately stopped and disappeared into Marinette's small handmade purse. It was one of the first things she had created – though it was a bit torn here and there, it still brought her joy. She couldn't bring herself to part with it, as it held too many beautiful memories. Every time she thought about saying goodbye to it for good, she would change her mind and adjust it, so it could last longer and continue to serve her.

"Sorry, Marinette... I don't know why I did that. I just had this feeling – and suddenly I knew where we needed to go."

"What are you talking about?? And where did you take us? You know I'm new here, I don't know this place at all!"

Tikki just looked at her apologetically and continued in her usual style: "Forgive me... but something told me we had to be here."

Marinette huffed in annoyance and turned away from her purse.
"That 'someone' can kiss my..."

"I heard that..." Tikki replied with a frown – she probably didn't like swear words.

Marinette grabbed her phone and immediately opened the map app, but it wasn't showing anything

This can't be happening! I have a terrible signal. I knew I should have downloaded the offline map ahead of time!" She'd been thinking about it yesterday and this morning, but in the end, she hadn't gotten around to it. Was it irresponsibility or laziness? From the look Tikki gave her, it could have been either.

Marinette sighed and turned back to her little companion.
"Alright," she said, continuing with a stern look, "you're not getting any treats for this! I don't care how much you whine. You'll be living on bread and water!"

"We kwamis can only gain power from certain types of food. I can get it from bread too, but I prefer cookies."

"No cookies, then."

As soon as another, much stronger voice was heard, Marinette turned – and almost collided with another girl. She was a bit taller than her, curvy, and had dark brown skin. Her bright eyes stood out beautifully behind large glasses, and her face was adorned with a dazzling, almost blinding smile. She was wearing a simple white T-shirt with an unbuttoned shirt over it, paired with loose, understated green pants.

Marinette's eyes moved from her expression to her hairstyle – tightly braided, tightly tied braids gathered into a large bun immediately caught her attention.

"Hi, you look a bit lost. Do you need help with something? I'm Alya, and these are my friends," said the girl smiling and pointing behind her.

Behind her stood another group of girls – each different and unique in their own way.

The first one was shorter and muscular – her well-toned arms were impossible to miss. A dark pink ponytail peeked out from under her baseball cap. She wore a sporty tank top, shorts, and brightly colored running shoes. Her posture and body language indicated she was used to running, jumping, and training – she was a girl who never stopped. Marinette felt a strange sense of respect from her, as if every instinct told her that this girl was fast, strong, and ready for anything.

Next to her stood another girl, who seemed like her complete opposite. A small short-haired blonde, dressed in pink – a ripped gray jacket, pink skirt, and pink bows in her hair. Everything about her screamed "cute," but at the same time, she radiated liveliness and a touch of rebellion. She had pins of her favorite rock bands on her backpack, and a few studded bracelets on her wrists. She wore fishnet tights on her arms and legs. Under her skirt, she wore torn jeans up to her knees.

The girl holding her hand was tall and slender, dressed entirely in black. She wore long, mesh sleeves, a dark purple tank top, and a black skirt adorned with chains. Her long hair was purple-black, messy with a straight fringe across her eyes. Her eyes were outlined with bold black eyeliner, and her lips were dark purple.

The last girl looked like she took her style directly from nature. A long brown skirt sprinkled with flowers immediately caught attention. She wore old, torn white sneakers and various bracelets made from different materials, from rubber to woven to metal with fruit or floral patterns. Her T-shirt was a casual green crocheted one, tucked neatly into her skirt, held up by an old black belt. Her hairstyle was wrapped in a scarf, but even so, everyone could see how chaotic her hair was. Some of her hair was braided in various European styles, while others were left loose, but altogether, it created a rainbow of colors.

"U-uhh, I mean..." Marinette suddenly felt her throat dry as she realized she hadn't said anything for a while. Her hands started to shake as she glanced from one girl to the next. "...well... actually... I'm new here and so... I don't really know where I am... and what I'm doing." She sighed. There would probably be laughter soon, maybe even mockery – she'd read this story before, and it didn't end well. These girls would definitely be just like...

"Really? That's awesome! Can I ask where you're from and what you think of Paris?" asked the rainbow-haired girl with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Your outfit is really cool," added the athlete with a look of admiration.

"What are you into? What do you enjoy? It's great we met like this – we usually have picnics and girls' time in this park," said the sweetly enthusiastic voice from the blonde girl.

"What they mean is that they're happy to meet you, and their names are Mylene, Alix, Rose, and Juleka," Alya added, smiling encouragingly at Marinette. She pointed to each girl as she introduced them. "Girls, give her some space, yeah? Don't scare her off."
Marinette, despite her best efforts to hide it, sighed in relief. When the group of girls stepped back a little, giving her back her personal space, she finally managed to say something coherent.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 16 years old. It's really beautiful here. We moved a little further from here, well... where we lived before wasn't far from the center. And... I made this myself," she pointed to her bag and clothes. "I'm into fashion, painting, sewing, making... creating different things, jewelry, accessories, um..."

She wondered what Tikki would say—about how she was actually lying to these kind girls right from the start. Or... is it really a lie if she just didn't tell them the whole truth? Would they even notice? It's not that big of a deal, is it? They don't have to know the black-haired girl isn't from France.

It seemed Marinette was worrying for nothing, as the girls just laughed—this time with pleasure and without any malice towards the new girl—and started talking to her about the city, their lives, where everything was, asking her questions and answering all the ones Marinette threw into the conversation. She absorbed one piece of information after another, feeling like she was in a race. There was no time to think about the small stuff, all her attention and focus were on the five girls whose world spun around her like a steering wheel.

She felt like she was on a ship, rocking back and forth, the sea playing with her excitedly. There was no time for seasickness, nausea, fear, doubts, or bad thoughts. As the girls started walking, she did too—following them and trying to keep up, responding to everything they threw her way.

She was so busy that she didn't notice the small, faint, red glowing dot peeking out from her little handbag. It was exactly the red dot, the strange alien thing named Tikki, who was watching her owner and smiling mysteriously. She felt that both of them were about to embark on an adventure like they'd never experienced before, something they could only dream about.

And during the time Tikki had been alive, through all the time she'd served everyone who came before Marinette—and who had also served her, saving and protecting together—Tikki thought this adventure would be different. A little different from the previous ones—and she couldn't wait. Enthusiasm and impatience danced through her little body. She wanted to see how the world had changed since she'd last been here.

"Hmmm... I think Plagg is definitely having a blast and enjoying the new guardian of destruction. I think we'll like it here," she whispered to herself, glancing at the black-haired girl one last time.

How lucky that she met her new friends.

"Marinette, we can show you the best shops, and oh! How about we all go to a café?"

Marinette smiled cautiously. Yes, what a wonderful idea that would be.

"Um... girls... I mean... can we exchange contacts?"

There was a wave of agreement and excitement. The girls quickly exchanged their contacts and started heading toward their dream destination.

"By the way, we all go to the same school. Where do you go?"

"I'll go to a different school, actually... I decided with my parents, we're working on it now."

"You can join us, it would be awesome to have us all together, right?"

Marinette couldn't say that the idea didn't tempt her, but... what would the others be like?

Maybe she'd never see the same old, mean, vengeful faces that had haunted her throughout her life. Maybe this time, it would be different. Maybe it would be beautiful and kind, finally warm—just like she had wished for so many times, the thing she had dreamed of during the cold that surrounded her. Besides, in any school, there's always at least that one person who gets on everybody's nerves. If she went to the same school as these girls here, at least she'd already have friends.

Maybe Paris isn't as bad as she thought. She'd seen strange things here and even stranger people, found herself in awkward situations she clumsily fell into, and it was hard to get out of them. But now... Marinette looked ahead and saw, for the first time, the beauty she had missed every time she kept her head down, her eyes glued to her feet. Now, it would be different. With her newfound strength, she told herself—promised herself—that no one would knock her off course again. She would make sure to start anew.

Her attention fell on a little café where they stopped. It was picturesque, cozy, and when the girls entered, the interior seemed much larger than the outside. It was overwhelming. For the first time in her life, Marinette was surrounded by so many positive thoughts next to her new friends. Maybe it was they who gave her this new, fast hope. Maybe this was how it was supposed to be.

She would make sure it stayed that way.

"By the way, Marinette, I have to ask..." The girl leaned in a little closer, her voice lowering to a quiet whisper. "I hope the villains in our city didn't scare you off... you know what I mean."

The girl quieted, subtly introducing a new topic into the conversation. The others immediately followed her lead, also lowering their voices.

"Yes, yes, we can't talk about it too much. It's like an unwritten rule—mention it, and everyone will stare at you and immediately get grumpy!"

Marinette swallowed hard, her gaze slowly shifting to her small handbag. The reality of everything she had been told finally struck her. It was like she had been lying to herself, but now, everything felt real, and nothing could stop it. She started to feel cold sweat on her body, the kind that comes from fear. She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away, to force them from her mind. But somewhere deep inside, she knew exactly what she had gotten herself into, and she had a terrible sense that she couldn't escape it. She reached up and touched one of her earrings, the ones she had worn since yesterday. It was so comfortable that sometimes she forgot she was even wearing it. In fact, she couldn't even remember putting it on.

She just hoped she wouldn't be alone for the wild ride.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What happens now?"

The shadow stretched across the room, enveloping her in its darkness. Two figures stood there silently. One struggled to make eye contact with the other. The second figure was deep in thought, staring at the painting – her painting, which had been displayed after her death. He chuckled to himself. She would never have wanted such grand admiration. She never desired fame. And if she could see what was happening now... She wouldn't forgive him. No, not when he had to destroy himself – and in doing so, drag their son down with him.

His gaze lifted. He looked into her eyes, those beautiful emerald eyes. In them, he saw memories of older times when everything was simpler and more beautiful – times he could never return to.

"Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to him. I promise," he muttered stubbornly. He had everything perfectly planned – and now that he knew the Miraculouses had found new foreign guardians, he could begin to act. But this time, differently. A different path.

"You're useless. You can't even get your hands on a few jewels," the person spat at him. Then, without warning, he turned away. "Now, you're of no use to me at all."

"W-wait, I... but... I can fix this! You don't think... those two could ever be caught," he finished, gathering all the courage he had left. But one look at him – and his knees gave out. He fell to the cold, hard floor. His gaze rested on the checkered, perfectly clean floor. Not a speck of dust in sight.

The man still had his hands behind his back and, with slow, cautious steps, approached his guest. His eyes, usually so cold and venomous, softened in the presence of this man. They showed reluctance, but also a hint of understanding.

"Forgive me. Since her death, everything feels bleak and worthless. My whole life..." Suddenly, his words fell silent. He paused and sighed heavily. He turned away, but despite his efforts, a small, unnoticed tear slipped down his cheek, visible even behind his glasses.

The man immediately understood. Of course, it made sense. He had been moody and reclusive for days, locked in his villa – because of her. Once, they were the darlings of all Paris. Her death had affected everyone – but him most of all... even after all these years.

"Excuse me, I... I didn't mean to—"

"Don't apologize. Truth be told, I should apologize. It's hard to cope with this. It's hard to start over. But if we join forces again, we'll both get what we want." The man extended his hand to his guest to help him up. In his eyes, he saw surprise – but then understanding. The foreign hand accepted the help immediately.

"Are those new gloves... your new collection?"

"Something like that," he replied, tightening his grip. With his other hand, he friendly placed a hand on the man's neck.

For a moment, they separated – one with speed and certainty, the other with clumsiness and hesitation.

The room was filled with uneasy order. And silence. Especially the silence. The man, who had known the butler of this villa so well and trusted him so much, suddenly began to notice... isn't it a bit hot here? The cold floor now felt like a comfortable embrace. The world around him began spinning upside down, like a carousel. His body was sweating – it was pouring out of him like a waterfall. All those intricate patterns on the floor, on the walls... on the ceiling?

Suddenly, he felt dizzy. His old body could no longer hold up. He collapsed again – this time onto the floor, which was now warm. Wasn't it cold before? Now, there was warmth everywhere. The windows were closed...

He gently rubbed his eyes with his fingers – but that only made things worse. His vision immediately darkened. He couldn't see anything. He felt trapped. Everything was spinning... What was spinning? Where was he? What was happening?

His throat tightened. He started gasping for breath. His muscles rebelled, his body didn't listen. Everything seemed so loud. Why was everything, damn it, so loud?! He could hear his own breathing. He could hear the frantic beating of his heart.

His body collapsed onto the floor. It trembled. A thought flashed through his mind: did he look like the animals they used to hunt? The animals that trembled – and then died. But that couldn't be...

He couldn't be...

It must be a mistake. He wouldn't do this. This had to be a dream.

With that thought, the man fell unconscious.

The second man – now his venomous gaze returned – scoffed and cautiously removed his gloves. He tossed them aside – onto the floor, beside the now-dead man.

The floor, once spotless and without a speck of dust, now hosted the body of an old, naive fool.

At the press of a button, another person entered the room.

"Natalie, clean this up. And please – no unnecessary questions. From anyone. We have the spring premiere coming up soon."

"Yes, sir."