Chapter Text
July 2016 ~ One month before the new school year
The mood in Paris was eerie and dark as a storm made its way in. Bells chimed, newspapers flew, and cars honked, desperately attempting to get inside to avoid the worsening weather. Adrien Agreste, on the other hand, was searching for peace and tranquility.
His newfound freedom, caused by his father's passing, had been completely devastating. How could a man he thought was cruel and didn’t love him save the world? He felt guilty for even questioning his father. He should be admiring him. But there was a feeling, deep inside his chest, that something was missing. A part of the story he hadn’t heard. Ladybug had been brief, and he hadn’t wanted to pry for answers—afraid of what he might find. Now, though, it had him wondering: should he have asked more questions? Did he really want to know what happened that day?
His feet scattered across the alleyway as his phone chimed from his pocket. He already knew who it was—Marinette, the one girl who had always been there for him. The bakery was only half a mile away, so he decided he’d just go see her there.
The rain scattered across the pavement, sliding into the sewers as he navigated through a narrow alleyway. Just then, he heard a ripping sound, something coming from the walls he was passing. In the corner of the alley stood a small, weather-worn door. Curiosity got the best of him. He slipped through it, determined to find the source of the noise.
On the other side was a hollow room—dusty, dirty, and long forgotten. Adrien grimaced.
“Adrien,” Plagg hissed from his coat pocket. “I would seriously like to get home. It smells like rotten cheese in here—and not the good kind! I would know.”
“Seriously, Plagg, just give me a second. I heard something,” Adrien replied, distracted. That’s when he noticed the tearing wallpaper. Rain dripped from the ceiling, adding to the sogginess, and the wind had begun to rattle the walls.
Normally, he wouldn’t care about something like this. But behind the peeling paper, something red caught his eye.
“Plagg… am I going crazy, or is there writing behind this?” Adrien asked, furrowing his brows.
“Well, since we’re here, might as well find out what it says!” Plagg shrugged.
Adrien stepped closer, reaching out to grip the loose wallpaper. He gave it a sharp tug, and it came away surprisingly easily. Within seconds, he could recognize one of the words beneath it. His face paled instantly.
“Agreste.”
It was marked in red—bold, capital letters sprayed plainly across the wall.
“What the…” he muttered, continuing to tear the wallpaper back with growing urgency.
Plagg floated beside him nervously. “Wait, Adrien. This whole idea is really starting to smell—I think we should get out—”
But it was too late.
Adrien had ripped off the entire strip of wallpaper.
And there it was, staring back at him.
“Gabriel Agreste was Monarch.”
“Hah…” Adrien laughed breathlessly, his voice full of disbelief. “This has to be some sick prank, right, Plagg?”
But even as he said it, his stomach twisted. Because deep down, he already knew.
“Who would even write something like this? Ladybug told me… my father was a hero. And I know Ladybug—she would never lie. She couldn’t!” Adrien said, his voice cracking with confusion.
Plagg hovered beside him, clearly trying to figure out what to say.
“I think you should ask Ladybug about this,” he said quietly.
“What!?” Adrien snapped, spinning around. “This person is obviously making up stories for clout! Why… why would I have to talk to Ladybug about this?”
Plagg’s eyes widened with a sad, almost guilty expression.
He wasn’t saying anything, but Adrien could feel the weight behind his silence.
The words on the wall echoed through Adrien’s mind again and again:
Gabriel Agreste was Monarch.
And before he could stop himself, he asked the question—even though he didn’t want the answer.
“Are the words on this wall true?” Adrien demanded loudly.
Plagg didn’t respond.
Adrien stepped closer, his breath hitching. “Are the words on this wall true!?” he yelled, this time nearly begging—just wanting Plagg to say no, so he could walk away and pretend it meant nothing.
Plagg hesitated. A few painful seconds passed before he finally spoke.
“It’s… I wanted to tell you sooner, Adrien, but—”
The sentence was cut off by the sound of Adrien’s heart shattering.
Betrayal crashed into him like a wave.
He felt the air leave his lungs as he stared at Plagg in disbelief.
How could he have been so gullible?
“Plagg,” Adrien said, his voice low and sharp. “I renounce you.”
He ripped the ring off his finger and shoved it into his pocket, not daring to look back.
He needed answers.
But he was too upset—too angry—to ask for them now.
He didn’t know where to go, only that he had to get away. Everything felt wrong. His chest ached. The world felt colder.
And yet, deep down, he knew.
He knew the words were true.
It hurt, knowing his father had been a villain.
But that he could live with. Gabriel Agreste had controlled every aspect of his life. The pain came with the territory.
What truly hurt… was knowing he’d been lied to—directly, and without hesitation—by the people he trusted most.
Ladybug.
Plagg.
Who else?
He couldn’t understand it. Why had Ladybug lied? What was she protecting? It wasn’t her reputation—if the truth came out, it would only destroy it.
He could think of no good reason. And that’s what stung the most.
Tears overflowed and blurred his vision as he collapsed against the wall. His legs gave out beneath him, and he fell to the pavement. He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face.
The rain poured harder. The wind howled.
His hair was soaked, his clothes clinging to him, but he didn’t move.
He felt empty.
What would he do now?
****
“Remember, girl—just because the Butterfly Miraculous is missing—” came the voice from her computer screen.
“Yeah, Al, I know,” Marinette smiled at her friend before ending the call.
As her screen went dark, so did her expression. The events of the last month weighed heavily on her, filling her chest with quiet grief. Only a few people knew the truth—and Alya wasn’t one of them.
Marinette wanted so desperately to tell her, but fear kept the words trapped in her throat.
Terrified Alya would hate her.
Terrified she’d lose her trust.
She hated lying. But even as guilt clawed at her, some part of her still believed she’d made the right decision.
“Tikki,” Marinette called softly.
Tikki, mid-bite into a macaroon, glanced up from her perch.
“I texted Adrien like thirty minutes ago! And he still hasn’t replied. What do you think he’s up to? He never usually takes this long.”
“Well, it is storming,” Tikki said simply.
“Yeah… wait, no! This is getting boring.” Marinette shot up from her chair. “What if something happened to him? Maybe I should go look for him.”
“I’m sure that’s the right decision, Marinette!” Tikki encouraged her with a bright nod.
Of course she was like that.
Marinette grabbed her raincoat and the umbrella—his umbrella, the one Adrien had given her all those months ago—and rushed out of her room.
“Mom, Dad! Be back in less than fifteen minutes!” she called, planting quick kisses on both of their cheeks before darting outside.
The bakery door slammed behind her.
The rain was pouring, cold and merciless. She opened her umbrella, trying to shield herself, though her shoes were already soaked. Pulling out her phone, she tapped on Adrien’s location.
“Huh… that’s weird,” she muttered. “Says he’s in some random alleyway. Not far though.”
She sighed and almost slipped—not once, not twice, but three times.
Of course she did.
Still, she navigated the slick sidewalks, crossed past shuttered shops, and climbed a few steps that led her to a quiet, shadowy alley.
“What the heck would Adrien be doing here?” she groaned. “He’s not the type to hang around in sketchy places.”
“Maybe he dropped his phone?” Tikki chirped from inside her purse.
“Guess we’ll find out…” Marinette replied, inching forward.
That’s when she saw it: a small, old door nestled into the bricks like a secret.
“Uhh…”
Before she could even finish the thought, the door flew open—and Adrien stumbled out.
His eyes were red, his hair wild, and his face was twisted in a way she’d never seen before.
“Marinette?!” he shouted, voice harsh. “What are you doing here?!”
She froze. Her jaw dropped.
He looked terrible—soaked to the bone, clothes wrinkled and ruined, panic written across every feature.
“Adrien…” she whispered, eyes drifting to the door behind him. “What were you doing in there?”
“Nothing!” he snapped—far too quickly.
Marinette stepped back, startled.
He moved in front of the door, shoulders rigid, voice low and clipped.
“You… you can’t come in here.”
“Adrien,” she started gently, “it’s obvious something’s wrong, and I’m not going to leave until you tell me what. I care about you.”
Then she saw it—the streaks of dried tears on his face—and her heart sank.
Adrien Agreste, the boy who always wore a smile like armor, looked shattered.
Pure determination surged through Marinette. Without a second thought, she closed her umbrella, marched forward, and pushed past him toward the door he’d come through.
“Marinette, wait—” Adrien tried to block her path, hand outstretched—but he knew that look in her eyes. She wasn’t backing down.
She stepped inside. Her breath caught.
Harsh red letters glared back at her from the wall, spray-painted and bold, like a wound on the room itself:
"Gabriel Agreste was Monarch."
“Adrien…” she whispered, staring. “What is this?”
“Please,” Adrien said quickly, his voice trembling. “You can’t tell anyone. I need to talk to Ladybug. I need to know why she lied… Why—how could she lie so easily?” His voice cracked. “She made me believe my father was a hero. It’s cruel!”
Tears spilled down his cheeks again, and Marinette felt frozen.
This was her worst fear playing out in front of her eyes.
Someone knew.
Someone knew the truth and wanted it out—wanted to destroy her, destroy them.
She had tried so hard to protect him, to carry the burden on her own.
And yet, here he was—crushed, devastated, unraveling.
Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. She couldn’t stand to see him like this.
And in that moment, looking at Adrien’s broken expression, she knew she’d made the right decision.
This was why she had lied.
For him.
To protect Adrien.
“Adrien…” Marinette whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. I’m so sorry you had to go through this alone.”
She stepped toward him and wrapped her arms tightly around his trembling frame.
Adrien leaned into her, clinging to her warmth like a lifeline.
“Thank you, Marinette… You’re always here,” he said, barely audible over the storm outside.
“Yeah… I…”
Marinette hesitated.
Then her heart made the decision for her.
Adrien wanted to speak to Ladybug.
He deserved to know the truth.
And she was Ladybug.
She could explain.
She had to explain.
He wasn’t Chat Noir—so everything would be fine.
Right?
Just before Marinette could reveal the truth to Adrien, an explosion echoed in the distance. Startled, she jumped back—and Adrien did the same. Her heart leapt into her throat. She hesitated, torn between staying with him and investigating the sound.
“What... what was that?” Adrien asked, his voice hoarse and dazed.
A surge of resolve overtook Marinette. She would protect Adrien. She would tell him the truth. But first, she had to make sure he was safe.
“Adrien, we have to go. That didn’t sound good,” she said firmly.
“But what if someone finds this?” he gestured toward the spray-painted message on the wall. “They’ll... they’ll know the truth. And they’ll tell—”
“Don’t worry,” she interrupted. “We’ll come back after the chaos is over. But we need to get to safety first. Whoever spray-painted this—it’s clear they’re after you in some way. And now it’s becoming dangerous.”
Another explosion rang out, louder this time. Marinette's mind raced. Could this be it? Was the new holder of the butterfly miraculous finally making a move?
How ironic, she thought bitterly. Right when Adrien had finally uncovered the truth.
Her brows knitted as she grabbed Adrien’s trembling hand and pulled him from the room. He hesitated but followed.
“Let’s go to my house. You can clean up there, and we’ll come back here tomorrow,” she said.
Adrien nodded, albeit reluctantly. They hurried through the storm, the rain pouring relentlessly from the sky. Adrien clutched Marinette’s right hand while she held the umbrella with her left. In the distance, they could see where the explosions originated.
A figure loomed through the haze, glowing lines etched into her outfit, surrounded by a purple mist. Her hair was split into two high ponytails, both tinted violet. She wielded an umbrella—only hers was a weapon—and appeared to be attacking random civilians.
“An... akumatized villain?” Adrien asked, his face pale and voice barely audible.
Marinette glanced sideways at him as they approached the bakery. “It might be,” she said softly, “but your father isn’t behind it this time.”
“Then who is?” he snapped, pain and anger twisting in his voice. “What was the point of him dying if someone else is just going to take his place?”
Marinette looked away, guilt rising in her chest like a tidal wave. He deserved better than this.
They entered the bakery and rushed upstairs to her room. She rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a spare change of clothes that looked like they’d fit him.
“Here,” she said, handing them over. “Go clean up in the bathroom. Take your time, okay? Afterward, we’ll figure out our next move.”
Adrien accepted the clothes and glanced down, guilt shadowing his expression. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’m just... so angry. At... Ladybug.”
The last word was whispered, but Marinette heard it clear as day. She looked away, ashamed.
“It’s okay, Adrien,” she replied quietly. “Your feelings are valid.”
He gave her a brief, sad smile and kissed her cheek before heading to the bathroom.
Once Marinette was sure he was gone, she turned to Tikki. The kwami didn’t say anything—but she didn’t need to. They understood each other.
“Tikki,” she said with quiet resolve, “spots on.”
In a flash of red light, Marinette transformed into Ladybug. She hoped this wouldn’t take long. She needed to fix things with Adrien—and fast.
Slipping through the trapdoor in her ceiling, she raced off toward the chaos, hoping Adrien wouldn’t notice she was gone.
***
Ladybug swung across the rooftops, her yoyo slicing through the rain-soaked air. The streets of Paris below were beginning to flood, gutters overflowing as the storm raged on. Fierce winds howled between the buildings, and by now, most civilians had taken shelter indoors.
She landed gracefully atop a small yellow building, eyes locked on the akumatized villain standing at the center of the chaos. Lightning cracked across the sky, briefly illuminating the figure’s glowing outfit and ominous purple aura.
“Mind if I have a chat with the one who gave you your powers?” Ladybug called out, her voice sharp with determination.
A purple butterfly mask flickered across the villain’s face. Ladybug squinted, trying to make out any hints she could get about the new wielder, but her vision was too distorted by the storm and energy.
“They have no intention of speaking with you!” the villain cackled in reply, her voice laced with wicked glee.
“Alright then,” Ladybug said, reaching for her yoyo and snapping it free from her hip. She twirled it with expert precision, confidence swelling in her chest. “I’ll put an end to this myself.”
“I’d like to see you try,” the villain taunted.
Ladybug launched her yoyo forward, aiming for the villain’s wrist, but she dodged with ease. The villain leapt into the air and landed lightly on a rooftop ledge, her umbrella glowing with pulsating energy.
“You can call me Climatiqueen!” she declared proudly, lightning flashing behind her as if on cue.
Without wasting another second, Ladybug charged forward, attempting a swift side swipe. Climatiqueen blocked it with her umbrella and countered with a sharp kick to Ladybug’s shin. The impact made Ladybug stumble backward, pain shooting up her leg as she lost her guard.
“You fight like your city—soaked and crumbling!” Climatiqueen sneered.
Ladybug gritted her teeth and regained her footing. She dodged a burst of wind energy launched from the villain’s umbrella, then vaulted over a rooftop chimney. As she soared through the air, she flung her yoyo once more, wrapping it around a streetlamp and using it to slingshot herself toward her opponent.
They clashed mid-air—Ladybug striking with a spinning kick, Climatiqueen blocking with a forcefield emitted from her umbrella.
Rain pelted them both as they fought under the stormy sky, their silhouettes illuminated by flashes of lightning. Ladybug ducked a blast of freezing wind, then retaliated by tossing her yoyo into a metal pipe. It bounced back with force, knocking Climatiqueen’s umbrella from her grip.
“Gotcha!” Ladybug shouted, landing in a crouch.
But Climatiqueen wasn’t done yet. She extended her hand, and the storm above intensified. Hail began to fall, pelting Ladybug’s arms and back. The villain smirked and summoned her umbrella back into her hand with a magnetic pull.
Ladybug narrowed her eyes. She needed to end this fast—not just for the city, but for Adrien. She didn’t have time to play games.
By now, she would’ve expected Chat Noir to show up. It wasn’t unusual for him to be a little late, but they were nearly ten minutes into the fight, and he was still nowhere in sight. A flicker of concern crossed her mind. Maybe he got caught up? It wouldn’t be too strange—this new villain had appeared out of nowhere after a month of peace. Still, she was going to have to talk to him afterward… assuming she made it through this fight without him.
Shaking the thought away, she refocused. No time for distractions. She leapt onto a nearby rooftop and called out the words she had used countless times before.
“Lucky Charm!”
A glowing red-and-black light swirled above her head, and an object fell into her hands—a wind-up fan.
“A fan?” she muttered, raising an eyebrow.
Ladybug ducked to avoid a blast of hail as she analyzed the battlefield. Climatiqueen was still controlling the weather with her umbrella, alternating between gusts of wind and bursts of sleet. The umbrella was clearly the source of her power… but it was surrounded by a wind shield that pushed anything away before it could get close.
Ladybug’s eyes darted around the rooftops, taking in the layout, then down to the fan in her hand. Her mind raced.
Wind can’t push what’s already moving with it… but it can be redirected. If I can use this fan to create a countercurrent—
She gasped softly. “I can use it to destabilize the air pressure around her shield!”
She grabbed a rooftop tarp that had flown loose in the storm and tied the fan to it using the string from her yo-yo. Then, sprinting across the tiles with the make-shift contraption in tow, she positioned herself on the opposite side of the villain.
“Hey, Climatiqueen!” Ladybug shouted, drawing her attention.
The villain turned, snarling. “Back for more?”
Ladybug smirked. “Just wanted to blow off some steam.”
With a twist of her wrist, she yanked the yoyo string tight. The tarp flapped upward, catching the wind—and with the fan spinning furiously at its center, it created a counter-force that disrupted the villain’s swirling shield. For a brief second, the wind wall faltered.
That was all Ladybug needed.
She flung her yoyo straight through the air. It sliced past the unstable winds and wrapped around Climatiqueen’s umbrella. With a powerful tug, she yanked it free from the villain’s grasp and smashed it to the ground.
“No!” Climatiqueen cried out as the purple energy around her faded. The akuma flittered into the air, and Ladybug was ready.
“Gotcha!” she shouted, capturing it in her yoyo. “Time to de-evilize! Bye bye, little butterfly.”
The skies began to clear as the corrupted energy faded away. Of course, it was still raining and storming in Paris, just a bit less extreme.
“Miraculous Ladybug!” she called, throwing the Lucky Charm into the sky. A warm, pink light swept through the streets, reversing all the damage done by the villain’s storm.
Breathing heavily, Ladybug looked up at the sky. It was calm now, but her heart wasn’t. Adrien. Chat Noir. Too many questions. And now… no more time to wait.
She had to find out the truth.
She hopped down to the ground where the akumatized villain—now just a dazed civilian—was sitting on the pavement.
“Aurore, right?” Ladybug asked gently, approaching her. “How are you feeling?”
Aurore clutched her head, still visibly shaken. “I… I can’t believe I got akumatized,” she said in disbelief, her voice small and filled with regret.
“Same here,” Ladybug replied softly. “I’m just as confused as you are.”
She extended a hand, and Aurore took it. Ladybug helped her back onto her feet with a reassuring grip.
“Thank you for saving me,” Aurore said kindly, her voice steadier now.
“Of course,” Ladybug replied, offering a small, warm smile. Then her tone shifted—more serious, but still gentle. “Do you remember anything from during the akumatization? Anything at all about this new butterfly holder?”
Aurore frowned, her brows knitting together as she tried to remember. “I’m not sure…” she said slowly, rubbing her temples. “It’s all kind of a haze. Like a dream I can’t hold onto.”
“That’s all right,” Ladybug said, her voice calm and patient. “If you remember anything—even the smallest detail—please let me know.”
“I will, Ladybug. I promise,” Aurore nodded. “I think I can walk myself home. It’s not far.”
Ladybug smiled softly and reached into her pocket, handing Aurore a small, glowing purple charm. “Here—just a little something to help keep you safe. It’s a lucky charm.”
Aurore took it carefully, her eyes full of gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Stay safe, Aurore,” Ladybug said, taking a step back.
Then, with a flick of her yoyo, she soared back into the sky, her figure disappearing into the clearing clouds—on her way to face something far more complicated than an akuma: the broken heart of Adrien Agreste.
***
After taking a quick shower and cleaning himself up in Marinette’s bathroom, Adrien gladly slipped on the oversized hoodie she had given him. He slid into the baggy sweatpants and ran his fingers through his damp hair in the mirror, trying to make himself look at least somewhat presentable.
But inside, he was stuck.
He felt torn—guilty that citizens in Paris were in danger while he was here, moping in someone else’s bathroom. Yet the pain was so raw, so sharp, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Why should he help Ladybug after everything? After that?
She had kept a devastating secret from him.
His eyes flicked to the sink where the ring sat—silent and still. He couldn’t bring himself to put it back on. Seeing Plagg… it would be too much. Too soon. The hurt would just come rushing back, and he wasn’t sure he could handle that again.
But as he stared at himself in the mirror, a quiet determination began to rise in him. He couldn’t hide forever. He wouldn’t.
The next time a villain was akumatized, he would seek the truth—on his own terms.
He had questions. So many that they echoed and ricocheted inside his mind, unanswered and relentless. Why? How could his father have done something so awful? For fame? For power? For money?
None of it made sense. No matter how many times the truth rang in his ears, it refused to settle. It was like trying to solve a puzzle where none of the pieces fit.
Adrien took a breath, clutched the edges of the sink, and stared himself down. He didn’t have all the answers yet, but he was going to find them.
Adrien stepped out of the bathroom, towel slung around his neck, only to stop short at the sight before him. Marinette stood in the middle of the room, soaked to the bone. Her clothes clung to her, rain dripping from the tips of her hair.
“Uh… Marinette, you're soaked,” he said, blinking.
“Oh! Yeah… yeah, I accidentally opened the trapdoor,” she stammered, laughing nervously. “You know me—classic clutz move!”
Adrien raised an eyebrow but let it go, offering her a small, genuine smile. Despite everything, she still made him feel like he could breathe.
“So,” she began gently, “let’s talk about you.”
Adrien sighed and sat on the edge of her chair, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “What’s there to talk about?” he muttered. “Turns out my father was the biggest monster in Paris, and somehow everyone was fooled. Everyone except Ladybug.”
His voice cracked.
“I just don’t get it, Marinette… why would she lie? Why would she keep something like this from me?” His hands curled into fists, jaw clenched.
Marinette’s heart sank. She took a slow breath, trying to will herself to speak. “I…”
She was going to tell him. She had to.
But then Adrien cut her off—his voice sharp, raw. “I will never forgive Ladybug. Ever. What she did… it’s unforgivable. Either she doesn’t trust me, or she thinks I’m too weak to handle the truth.”
Marinette flinched. Her eyes dropped to the floor.
Adrien continued, venom creeping into his words. “I looked up to her. Trusted her. And now? I can’t even say her name without feeling sick. She’s not a hero—she’s.. she’s a hypocrite who plays with people’s lives like they’re pieces on a board.”
Marinette’s breath hitched. She felt like she’d been slapped.
“Adrien…” she whispered, barely able to look at him. “If you could talk to Ladybug right now… what would you say?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“I’d tell her she broke me,” he said coldly. “And I hope it was worth it.”
Devastated was an understatement. Hearing her boyfriend so easily admit that he hated her alter ego—her—felt like someone had reached into her chest and ripped her heart out. But deep down, she knew she deserved it. He was right. She didn’t believe he could handle the truth. She’d made that decision for him, and now… now he was broken because of it.
But he didn’t understand the full picture. He didn’t know that she loved him. That everything she’d done was to protect him.
“Do… you,” Marinette began quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, “want to stay here while you process all of this? It’s still raining, and… it might be hard to get home.”
Adrien glanced at her with a flicker of gratitude in his tired eyes. “Thank you, Marinette,” he said softly. “Of course I’ll stay.”
“Yeah… cool. Great,” she replied with a forced smile, already walking toward her computer. “Here, let me set up a movie or something. Let’s just… try to take your mind off things, yeah?”
She clicked through her streaming account, barely seeing the screen. “I’m gonna go grab some snacks from downstairs. Don’t wait for me!” she added hastily, before darting to the trapdoor.
The moment it shut behind her, Marinette rushed down the ladder and fled to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Her composure crumbled the second she was alone.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
She collapsed onto the closed toilet seat, sobs shaking her shoulders as the pain broke through. Her purse shifted, and a soft pink glow peeked out. Tikki floated gently toward her.
“What… what was I supposed to do?” Marinette choked, her voice breaking. “I thought I made the right decision. I thought I was protecting Adrien. But look at him! He’s angry. And he hates me.”
Tikki placed herself on Marinette’s shoulder. “He doesn’t hate you, Marinette,” she said softly. “He’s hurt. He’s overwhelmed. But he doesn’t know you’re Ladybug. He’s angry at the mask, not the girl.”
“But if he ever finds out…” Marinette whispered, wiping at her face. “If he ever figures it out… he will hate me. I changed my mind, Tikki. Under no circumstances can Adrien find out who I am.”
“Marinette,” Tikki said gently but firmly, “I’m warning you. Based on what we just heard—Adrien hates secrets. If he finds out on his own… it could be worse than if you told him.”
“Then he won’t find out,” Marinette said, straightening her back. Her voice was sharper now. “I’ll make sure of it.”
With that, she blew her nose, splashed cold water on her face, and forced a smile back onto her lips. She made her way downstairs and headed to the bakery counter, scanning the shelves until she spotted a small box of passionfruit macarons—Adrien’s favorite.
She was going to get through this. She had to.
***
Once the weather cleared up a little the next morning—still cloudy, with the air thick and damp from the night’s storm—Adrien decided it was time to head home. The streets of Paris were quiet, as if the city itself was still recovering from the chaos. Marinette stood at the bakery door, wrapped in a hoodie, watching him with a soft, unreadable expression. He turned to her before stepping out into the gray morning.
“Thanks for everything, Marinette. Really.” His voice was tired but sincere.
She offered a small nod and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Anytime.”
Adrien didn’t have the strength to dig deeper—not yet—so he slipped his hands into his pockets and started the slow walk home, the sky above still indicating the storm wasn’t over.
Once Adrien had time to process everything, the weight of it all hit him. It was twisted. Unbelievable. But undeniable.
Who had his father confided in the most? There was only one obvious answer—and as much as Adrien didn’t want it to be true, deep down, he knew it was.
Nathalie.
She had always been by Gabriel’s side, loyal beyond reason. She would have done anything for him. Which meant… it had to be her. Nathalie was most likely Mayura.
The realization chilled him.
Adrien’s heart pounded as his thoughts raced. If Nathalie really had been working with his father, then she was dangerous—especially to Chat Noir. To him. He couldn’t let her find out his identity. He needed to be careful. Pretend nothing had changed. Keep his emotions hidden and stay on the down-low. Any sudden shift in behavior would raise alarms. Adrien Agreste, suddenly distant and cold? Nathalie would notice that in an instant.
But that meant playing a role, even in his own home.
He was alone. Truly alone. His mother was gone. His father… was the villain he once fought beside Ladybug to defeat. Ladybug had lied to him. His entire world had crumbled in one day. The only person he had left—the only one who had stood by him—was Marinette.
As he approached the front gates of the Agreste estate, a wave of anxiety swept over him. What if Nathalie did know the truth? What if she tried to take his ring? No… that was impossible. She couldn’t know. But the fear remained like a weight in his chest.
He called his bodyguard to open the gates. The metal doors creaked open, and Adrien walked too and stepped inside the mansion. The air inside was colder than he remembered. Had it always felt this dark? So empty?
"Adrien," a familiar voice called from his father’s office.
He flinched.
Nathalie stepped into view, her expression neutral, a forced smile on her lips. “How was Marinette’s?” she asked politely, as if everything was normal.
“Fine,” Adrien replied stiffly, trying to control his tone—but some of the harshness slipped out.
She paused, clearly noticing the shift in him. But true to form, Nathalie didn’t pry. She never did.
“That’s… nice. Well, let me know if you need anything.” And with that, she turned and walked back into Gabriel’s office, the door closing behind her like a silent warning.
Adrien's eyes narrowed as he climbed the stairs to his room. He wanted out—out of this house, out of this lie. The world felt heavy on his shoulders.
He reached his room, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him. Then he locked it.
He sighed heavily, but his eyes drifted to the left side of the room—and froze. A figure stood there, and Adrien recognized him instantly: Félix. His blonde hair was neatly styled, and he wore black jeans with a matching black shirt, as composed and unreadable as ever.
Adrien’s mood plummeted.
"Hello, cousin," Félix said simply.
Adrien clenched his jaw, anger bubbling in his chest. Of course. Of course today would get worse.
"What are you doing here?" Adrien snapped, his voice sharp and low. Memories from months ago surged forward—Félix trading with Shadow Moth, giving up every Miraculous in exchange for the Peacock. Adrien didn’t know why he’d done it. He didn’t care. All he knew was that Félix had betrayed them, and now he was standing here like nothing had happened.
"Whoa... didn’t expect that kind of welcome," Félix replied with a sly smirk. "I just wanted to check up on my favorite cousin."
"I’m your only cousin," Adrien said flatly.
God, Félix was such a pain.
Adrien let the silence stretch, heavy and awkward. Thirty seconds passed before he spoke again.
"No seriously—why are you here?"
Félix’s expression shifted just a bit. "Look, Adrien... ever since your father—"
"Don’t," Adrien growled, cutting him off. "I don’t want to hear about him."
Félix blinked. His lips parted in slight surprise as realization dawned in his eyes.
"You don’t mean..." he started.
"Yes," Adrien said bitterly. "I know all about Ladybug’s little charity project to paint my father as a hero. I know everyone’s been lying to me."
Félix stared, lips tightening. "I never thought you’d actually give into anger," he said. "You were always the golden one."
"Well, there’s no one left to control me anymore," Adrien said, voice cold.
For a moment—just a moment—Félix’s eyes glimmered with something like concern. But it vanished as quickly as it came.
"How could you, Félix?" Adrien demanded. "Lie so easily? And for what? Why was it so important to keep me in the dark?" His voice cracked with hurt. "The only person who hasn’t lied to me is Marinette."
At that, Félix’s jaw dropped. Then he sat on Adrien’s bed, leaned back—and started laughing. Not just a chuckle. A strange, breathless, borderline hysterical laugh.
"What the hell is so funny?" Adrien asked, annoyed and confused.
"You’re serious..." Félix said through gasps. "You really don’t know..."
Adrien scowled. "Know what?"
Félix stood slowly, his amusement fading to something unreadable. "I’m not going to ruin the surprise for you," he said, shaking his head. "But Adrien, I’m done with your accusations. I know you don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I get it. Just... when all of this is over, promise me something."
Adrien crossed his arms, tense. "What?"
"Make sure you get the full story," Félix said quietly. "Because if you don’t... someone’s going to get hurt. And believe it or not, I don’t like seeing you like this."
There was something oddly sincere in his voice.
Then, without another word, Félix turned on his heel. A flicker of light surrounded him as he called on his Miraculous, transforming into Argos. With a swift movement, he vanished out Adrien’s window, the faint sound of wind following in his wake.
Adrien stood there, stunned and fuming. What was that even supposed to mean?
As usual, Félix was speaking in riddles—and Adrien was sick of being left in the dark.
***
Two days.
It had been two days since the last akuma attack, and the citizens of Paris were growing restless. Ladybug swung through the city, scanning for any signs of trouble—but everything seemed… too quiet.
What worried her more than the silence was the absence of Chat Noir. She hadn’t heard from him since the last battle. Not even a check-in.
What if something had happened?
She tried to brush the thoughts away. This was Chat. He could take care of himself. Still, her heart nagged her, especially with the way people were beginning to ask questions.
As she rounded a corner, she ran right into the last person she wanted to see—Nadia Chamack.
“Ladybug, I thought you defeated Monarch?” Nadia asked, shoving a microphone far too close to her face.
“Yes... I did. Monarch is gone,” Ladybug replied, trying to keep her voice steady. “But as I’ve said before, the Butterfly Miraculous was never recovered. It’s clear there’s a new holder.”
Guilt twisted in her chest. If only she had found it sooner, none of this would be happening.
“And where is your partner, Chat Noir?” another reporter—Clara—pressed, joining in as she extended her own mic.
Ladybug blinked, then forced a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Chat Noir’s just... a little busy at the moment.”
The reporters closed in with more questions, but Ladybug had had enough. She launched her yoyo and zipped away, heading straight for the Eiffel Tower.
She needed to talk to the other Miraculous holders. That was her next step. She knew some of them—especially Pegasus—were starting to doubt her explanation, and she couldn’t blame them. Still, she had to try. She’d asked them all to meet her on the tower so she could clarify things in person.
As she approached, she saw them gathered near the top. But one face stood out in its absence.
Chat Noir.
Her heart dropped. He still wasn’t here.
Neither was Argos or Viperion, but that made sense—they were far from Paris. Chat, though? His absence screamed louder than words.
The sky was still gloomy from the storm days ago, gray clouds hovering like a warning. She landed softly on the iron beam, and all eyes turned toward her.
“Ladybug!” Rena Rouge called out, flashing a warm smile.
Ladybug gave a nervous one in return, hoping she looked more confident than she felt.
“Hey, guys,” she said, her voice calm and strong. “The reason I called you all here today was—”
Wham!
Something struck her hard in the back. She stumbled forward with a gasp, pain jolting down her spine—only to be caught by Minotaurox before she could hit the ground.
“What the—?!” she breathed, spinning around in disbelief.
Standing behind her was Chat Noir.
Her heart lurched at the sight of him—but instead of relief, there was dread. This wasn’t the Chat she knew. His posture was stiff, his eyes cold, fury radiating from every part of him.
“Ladybug,” he said flatly, “we need to talk. Now.”
“Chat...” she said, confused. “You—You came back, but—”
“Chat Noir, you can’t just hit Ladybug with your staff!” Pigella cut in, shocked.
“Yeah, seriously!” Caprikid added. “That was totally uncalled for.”
“Zip it, redhead,” Chat snapped without even looking at him. “This doesn’t concern any of you. I’m here for Ladybug.”
The other holders looked at each other, clearly uncomfortable, but they all took a step back, unsure whether to interfere. The tension was suffocating, and nobody wanted to be the one to push Chat Noir any further.
Ladybug’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t him. He would never hit her—never lash out like this.
“Okay, Chat…” she said gently, trying to steady her voice. “Our rooftop?”
He didn’t answer, just turned and launched his baton, disappearing into the sky. Ladybug followed, her heart pounding, not with excitement—but with fear.
It didn’t take them long to reach the rooftop.
Ladybug landed with a soft thud, the cool wind tugging at her pigtails. The moment her feet hit the ground, the silence wrapped around them like a vice.
“So…” she began awkwardly, voice tight, “what did you want to talk about?”
“Gabriel Agreste.”
That name hit her like a punch to the stomach. Her heart lurched. No. No, he couldn’t know. There was no way he could know.
“What… what about Gabriel Agreste?” Ladybug tried to force a smile, keep her voice light—as if it was just another name. As if it wasn’t the root of everything.
But Chat Noir’s eyes darkened even further. Cold. Unyielding. If looks could kill, he would have turned to stone.
“Cut the crap, Ladybug,” he growled.
Her heart froze.
There was no escaping this anymore.
A sudden flash of memory struck her. Two days ago. The red words on the wall—GABRIEL AGRESTE IS MONARCH. She had promised Adrien she could cover the words.
But she hadn’t.
And now, the worst possible outcome had come true. The one person who wasn’t supposed to see them… did.
Of course he did. Just her luck.
The chances had been slim. But fate clearly didn’t care about odds.
There was only one other explanation: Adrien told someone. But that didn’t make sense either. Adrien didn’t want anyone to know—not Luka, not Kagami, not even Nino.
And certainly not Chat Noir.
“Chat Noir… what are you saying?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer. Her voice was small, tentative.
“You’re really going to make me say it, huh?” he snapped. “I know. Gabriel Agreste was Monarch.”
Ladybug’s stomach dropped.
So that was it.
One more person who would now have to carry the burden. One more person broken by the truth.
“Chat Noir…” she said softly, “I need you to understand why I did what I did. I know you’re angry—hurt—and I’m sorry. I lied, yes, but I—”
“Just what?” Chat Noir roared.
Ladybug flinched. She had never seen him like this. Never heard this much venom in his voice.
“I trusted you,” he said, voice cracking beneath the weight of rage. “I fought by your side for months. And you couldn’t even tell me that?”
She opened her mouth, but he kept going.
“You knew who he was. You knew he was the one terrorizing Paris. You knew he used me. That he hurt me. Lied to me. Lied to everyone. And you still tried to protect him.”
Ladybug felt her throat tighten. Chat noir seemed oddly hurt by this. She had no defense. Every excuse sounded pathetic even in her own head.
“I wasn’t trying to protect him,” she whispered.
“Then what were you trying to do?” he snapped.
“I was trying to protect Adrien.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Chat Noir stared at her, eyes glossy but hard. His jaw clenched, his hands trembling.
“Too late for that,” he muttered bitterly. “You don’t even know Adrien. Why protect him?”
“Adrien’s a good person,” Ladybug began, her voice fierce and unwavering. “He shouldn’t have to pay for his father’s mistakes! I won’t let him suffer for something he had no part in. I don’t care if I have to lie to everyone—if that’s what it takes to keep Adrien safe and happy, I’ll do it.”
Chat Noir’s eyes widened at her words, shock flickering in his expression before it hardened again.
“That explanation doesn’t get you out of this, Ladybug,” he said sharply. “You’ve never been a liar. Not to me. So why start now? There’s something you’re not telling me—and don’t use Adrien as your pathetic excuse. If Gabriel Agreste was Monarch, then maybe Adrien should pay for his father’s crimes.”
Ladybug gasped. “What? No! Adrien is one of the kindest people I know—he’d never hurt anyone on purpose. And for your clarification, yes. I am doing this for Adrien. I care about him.”
Chat Noir scoffed, crossing his arms. “You barely know him, Ladybug. How do you know he wasn’t helping Gabriel Agreste? Ever think of that?”
Ladybug froze, the accusation hitting her like a slap. How could he even suggest that? Adrien would never. But she couldn’t say what she wanted to—not without risking everything. If she admitted how much she really knew, Chat Noir would start putting the pieces together.
Before she could reply, Carapace burst onto the rooftop, panting and out of breath, the other heroes trailing close behind him.
“Super… villain… back…” he gasped, “some girl…!”
Ladybug didn’t need him to say more. Another akumatized victim. Another crisis.
Her heart clenched—this conversation wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. But the city needed her now.
She straightened, turning to the group. “Thank you, Carapace. Let’s all get ready. We don’t know what we’re up against yet.”
She cast one last glance at Chat Noir.
His expression was still stormy, jaw tight, eyes burning.
He hadn’t forgiven her. Not yet.
But that would have to wait.
***.