Chapter Text
The room was swallowed in darkness except for the pale glow of the computer screen. On it, the acceptance letter to Gotham Academy gleamed like a crack in reality—an elite school, a full scholarship, housing covered, flights paid for, and a guaranteed internship at Wayne Enterprises. A dream. A miracle. A future handed to her on a silver platter.
So why did her chest feel tight?
Marinette dragged a hand through her tangled hair, exhaling shakily. This should have been the easiest “yes” of her life. Instead, doubt clung to her like damp air. With a tired pivot, she spun her chair and crawled back onto her bed, limbs heavy and aching from patrol. She barely managed to pull the blankets over herself before sleep began tugging her down.
Her mind, however, refused to rest.
Gabriel’s sacrifice was supposed to have been the end—an ending she had clung to, desperately, like a promise. No more villains, no more akumas, no more near-death experiences. Just normalcy. Peace.
But peace had never lingered long in her life. Not after Chrysallis emerged.
This enemy was faceless, maddeningly unpredictable. No clues. No signature. No humanity to reason with. One person? Many? Marinette didn’t know. What she did know was the exhaustion—hers, and Chat Noir’s. The attacks had become crueler with age. Fatalities were now routine, reversed only by her cure. People died in her arms. Her own skin split beneath the magic, leaving faint scars along her arms where her suit had failed.
School wasn’t any kinder.
Lila had slithered back into her life, wearing a new face and a new name, Elodee; yet Marinette recognised her instantly. No one else did. Or rather, no one else bothered to believe her. Alya dismissed her concerns with the same blind eagerness that had once made their friendship shine. The lies grew roots. Whispers followed her down hallways. She wasn’t overtly tormented, but the quiet cruelty was somehow worse—the laughter behind hands, the rumours, the isolation.
Adrien recognised Lila too. He simply chose not to act. “For peace,” he’d said, as though her suffering was a fair price for keeping the class calm.
As sleep finally dragged her under, Marinette allowed herself one last, fragile wish: Let things be different.
“MARINETTE, WAKE UP!”
She shot upright, heart hammering, blue hair sticking up in every direction. Adrenaline surged through her as she stumbled out of bed, nearly slipping down the ladder but catching herself at the last second. Four hours of sleep—luxury, compared to the thirty minutes she’d scraped by on the night before.
Her morning routine had become ritual. First, she checked each Miraculous, ensuring none had been stolen or wandered off with their corresponding kwami. Then her diary—secured, hidden, guarded fiercely after the Chloe incident. Finally, she counted her scars. A strange habit, perhaps, but grounding. Proof she’d survived. Proof she would continue to.
Getting ready was an exercise in controlled chaos. She slammed her shin into a chair at least twice, muttered curses under her breath, and nearly walked into her wardrobe door. Some things never changed.
Maybe that was why the idea of Gotham tugged at her.
Maybe a different city—different people—could give her room to breathe. Dangerous, yes. The Miraculous could fall into the wrong hands. But the opportunities… Wayne Enterprises alone made the offer worth considering.
She paused before her mirror.
Her reflection had changed. Her hair was long now, usually tied back into ponytails or messy buns. Her style had evolved too—skirts, trousers, dresses, whatever she could throw on quickly. Thin scars traced her arms and legs, some hidden beneath fabric, others visible reminders of how vulnerable even a magical suit could be.
Her eyes were the biggest difference. Still warm, still kind—but hardened. Like tempered steel.
With a steadying inhale, Marinette sat at her desk and powered on the computer. The soft hum filled the room. She clicked open her email.
Then clicked accept.
Just like that, her life shifted. She would be leaving François Dupont. She would start over.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she slipped downstairs to her parents. She may have been slightly hesitant in telling them, not because they had changed or hated her, but more so because of when they refused to believe her. Lila and her lies had landed her once more within the principal’s office with an accusation so unbelievably ridiculous and against her character, it made everyone seem like clowns, but her parents listened to her principal, to the apparent ‘incident’, and without hesitation took the side of another. Her own parents did not hesitate to give up her side when she needed them in that moment. Whilst she didn’t hold resentment, the relationship was still slightly strained. Regardless of this, when she gathered them in the living room and showed them the letter, both erupted with joy.
“OH MY GOODNESS, THAT IS WONDERFUL!” Tom engulfed her in a hug, Sabine rushing to join.
“Marinette, that’s incredible! What do you need?” Sabine asked breathlessly.
“Nothing, Maman. I already planned everything,” she replied with a proud grin.
Sabine pinched her cheek. “We’ll help anyway.”
“I know. I love you,” Marinette laughed.
After one more round of hugs, she sat for breakfast, shovelling cereal into her mouth while texting Adrien. Despite his cowardice, he had good intentions—and he was still someone she trusted. He hesitated at her decision, but ultimately supported her. Kagami and Félix responded next, immediately offering to be her emergency contacts and promising to act as her base of operations. Their fierce loyalty made her giggle.
Loyalty. A fairly common concept, yet it remains quite rare. How she desperately wished to contact Alya and seek her out for advice, but their friendship is incredibly strained. The reappearance of Lila, or in this particular case: ‘Elodee’, drifted them further, the journalist wanting to believe the sweet lie, and live in the world of delusion. She had tried to warn Alya, help her, she really did try, but alas what was never meant to be was never meant to be.
After deep retrospection, she had decided she would retrieve all the miraculi. Despite the brilliancy of all her chosen companions, they had proven themselves to be naive, and easily fooled. It was a vulnerability she could not ignore. Their arrogance and their pride would be their downfall, and she would not be part of the narrative nor the audience to such destruction.
Marinette busied herself for the next few hours, from working on her designs to organising the details of her departure. While she would still be protecting Paris, through the assistance of Kalki, she needed to make sure there was no lapse, no opening for Chrysalis to find her or her identity.
Eventually it had reached the evening, it was time. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and then transformed, her suit now much like her alternative self’s now. Without a second thought, she swung out her yoyo, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, collecting the miraculi one by one. A tedious and long task it was for it was pitch black by the time she returned to her humble abode.
Exhausted, she quickly detransformed, throwing a piece of pastry towards a very excited Tikki. Not a thought left in her head, Marinette instinctually placed each miraculous to its respective place in the box, before sealing it away.
Sleep called her name, and she would follow its orders. She would get as much as possible, knowing the next akuma attack was around the corner. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, but that was not her problem because tonight and tomorrow were Chat’s round of patrol. Knowing this she fell asleep quickly.