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Chapter Text

Paris, in the summer, always had a strange flavor. It wasn't really the heat, nor the calm of the streets emptied of tourists. It was more the feeling that something was changing, slowly, like a whisper in the air, a secret that the city itself hesitated to speak aloud.

Lila Rossi watched the Seine from the Agreste's balcony.

She was wearing an ivory dress given to her by Gabriel himself, a discreet piece of jewelry on her wrist, and that smile she had learned to master—not the one you show to please, but the one that hides what you really think.

Adrien was downstairs, in the gardens. He was laughing with Nathalie and stroking Plagg's head, now more docile than before. He looked good. Not necessarily in love, but... serene. And Lila clung to that.

She had won. Finally. There was no longer any rival. No more confrontation.

Marinette was gone.

It had happened without a fuss. Without shouting. A simple announcement, made in the locker room one Friday after school:

> "I'm leaving for New York. I've been accepted into a design program supervised by Audrey Bourgeois. I'm leaving next week."

No one knew what to say. Even Chloé had frozen. Part of her seemed proud—the other, jealous.

Adrien? He had remained silent.

Lila, however, hadn't reacted. Not in front of the others. But in her heart, it was like hearing a lock snap.

Marinette was no longer there.

No last stand, no heroine's speech. She was just... gone. As if she had understood that Paris no longer belonged to her. As if she had finally accepted to live for herself and not for others.

But this departure left a strange void.

A silence.

Even for Lila.

The sound of footsteps behind her made her jump.

"Are you coming?"

Adrien asked as he stepped onto the balcony, a soft smile on his lips.

He had let his hair fall freely today.

He was wearing a simple white shirt, but everything on him seemed tailor-made.

"Of course," she replied, taking his hand.

They went down together, arm in arm, like a perfect couple.

But in Adrien's eyes, there was sometimes a shadow.

A trace of memories he no longer dared to evoke. And Lila knew it.

She could erase the present, manipulate the future.

But the past?

The past had another mistress.

And her name was Marinette.

In New York, Marinette put her suitcase down in a modest studio, bathed in natural light.

Audrey was waiting for him in his office, already sending him a series of appointments and instructions to follow to the letter.

This world was anything but gentle—but at least here, she only had herself to save.

No masks. No red suit.

Just her talent, her sketches, and a dream she refused to bury.

And meanwhile, in Paris, the invisible threads continued to tighten.

For one day, paths would cross again.

And that day...

It would be neither a victory nor a defeat.

It would be an awakening.

Chapter Text

Paris was slowly falling asleep.

The streetlamps cast their warm light on the empty streets, and in the Agreste mansion, a silky silence enveloped the walls like a velvet scent.

Lila Rossi sat next to Adrien on a wide, understated sofa in the icy living room where everything seemed controlled, frozen in lifeless elegance.

And yet, there was warmth between them that evening.

Adrien, calm, relaxed, wore a black shirt fastened to the collar, perfectly cut, without a crease.

She, on the other hand, let herself go.

Flowing midnight blue dress, bare shoulders, hair down.

She felt on conquered ground.

She had fought, lied, doge, survived. And now she was finally breathing.

Adrien turned his eyes toward her.

"Do you think we're there yet?" he asked softly.

"Where?"

"In that famous 'perfect moment.'" She smiled.

"It didn't have to be perfect. Just real." He nodded. It wasn't passionate love, no.

It was something else. A silent alliance between two worn-out souls.

And tonight, that bond was enough for them.

Then...

The air changed.

Subtly.

As if someone had removed an invisible piece from the world, and the whole balance had begun to tilt.

And there he appeared.

Elaris Thurel.

No one had heard you come in.

No one had seen you walk through a door.

You were just there, standing in the frame of the glass roof.

You wore neither armor nor weapons.

A long black coat fell over your shoulders, and your eyes, shining like drowned stars, seemed to look through them, through time, skin, and thought.

An ancient, foreign gaze.

Lila froze.

Adrien too. You don't say anything.

And this silence was unbearable.

Finally, Lila took a step forward.

—Who are you?

A beat.

Then your voice, deep and peaceful.

—Elaris Thurel.

I expect nothing. I demand nothing.

I observe.

Adrien frowned.

—Observe what?

You slowly raised your eyes to him. And you said simply:

—What must fail.

The silence fell again, even heavier.

Lila murmured:

—You... Are you threatening us?

You smiled softly. But there was no warmth in that smile.

—No. I'm too far away for that.

This world makes its choices.

I contemplate them.

And sometimes, I witness their end.

He approached the large bay window.

The reflections of the city danced in his eyes, as if he carried within him a thousand simultaneous visions.

—This moment... this frame... the two of you here... it's so well composed.

But perfection... is a fragile illusion.

And I'm here to watch the first crack.

Then, silently, it disappeared.

Not with an explosion, nor by teleporting you.

It simply ceased to be there, as if you had never walked this world.

The glass roof was intact. Silence returned.

But the perfect moment was gone.

And Lila, for the first time in a long time... felt cold.

Chapter Text

Night had finally fallen.

Atop the Agreste manor, the lights of Paris twinkled like an upside-down sea of stars.

The air was warm, almost too still, and the suspended pool seemed to float in the void, between sky and city. Adrien swam slowly, alone.

Her outfit, a midnight blue one-piece, hugged her figure with an classical modesty.

She didn't speak. She was waiting for him.

He came back to her, barely emerging, his wet hair plastered to his forehead.

"You're very quiet tonight," he murmured.

She shrugged slightly.

"I'm observing. I

'm taking the time to experience what I have."

He smiled. Not mockingly. Sincerely.

"So, what's the verdict?"

"Not perfect. But... almost peaceful."

Adrien settled down next to her, in the shallow water. Their arms brushed.

No excess. No unnecessary gestures. Two young adults suspended in a moment that could have lasted a lifetime.

But something wouldn't leave them alone.

Lila felt it first.

A shiver. Not on her back.

In the world.

As if the water had frozen.

As if the sky itself were holding its breath.

She turned her head, and her heart sank.

He was there.

Hattrius.

Standing, a few meters from the pool, in the shadow of the glass wall. Still. Calm. You weren't moving.

You weren't doing anything.

You were watching.

Adrien sat up immediately, instinct on alert.

"You again."

He hadn't changed.

Same coat.

Same look.

Same lack of intention. The mere presence was enough to distort the moment.

Lila didn't scream. She stood up slowly, the water running down her legs. — Do you see us? Why?

Your voice, posed like an inverted question:

— I am nothing. I am here when I need to be.

You two, here, in this calm... it's beautiful. Really.

But I observe what cannot last.

Adrien stepped forward, standing waist-deep in water.

— Are you here to break this?

He tilted his head slightly.

— No. I don't need to break it.

The world will do it for me.

I'm just here to see it. At the right time.

A long silence.

He took a step back, into the shadows.

Hatrious weren't leaving.

He was retreating, like a dream that recedes upon waking.

Like an echo that lets itself be forgotten... just a little.

But before disappearing, he whispered, almost to himself:

— She's coming back.

And nothing you believe is solid... will survive her return.

Then he disappeared, as if he'd never been there.

Lila, her eyes fixed on where you were, felt her heart beat faster.

"Is he talking about Marinette?" she whispered, not daring to believe what she was saying.

Adrien didn't answer.

Because deep down, he knew.

Chapter Text

The warm wind of the New York summer played through Marinette's hair as she left her modest apartment in Queens. The city buzzed around her—horns, sirens, laughter, whispers—a frenetic but familiar rhythm.

Since her arrival a few months earlier, she had immersed herself in this world of art and shadows, learning every day to become something other than a masked heroine. Here, no red costume, no supernatural responsibilities. Just her, her sketchbook, and her dreams. Yet, in the last few days, something had changed.

A dull sensation, a heaviness in the air, an invisible presence that made her feel as if she were being watched. Sometimes, in a reflection, she thought she saw a silhouette, fleeting, barely there, like a breath of displaced air. But when she turned around, there was nothing.

She shook her head, refusing to believe it.

She was here to build her life. Not to dive back into the past.

But tonight, as she walked through Central Park, that feeling intensified. A silhouette stood out against the streetlight: a tall man, wearing a long, dark coat, his face hidden in shadow.

She stopped, her heart beating faster.

The man didn't move, didn't speak. He simply stood there.

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he disappeared into the night.

Marinette continued on her way, her hands trembling, her mind whirling.

She didn't know it yet, but something—or someone—had found her.

And her return would change everything.

Chapter Text

The lobby of the Galliera Museum shone with a thousand reflections, bathed in gold and polished marble.

That evening, a young talent gala had been organized—a prestigious showcase for the most prominent students, the most promising faces of tomorrow.

Adrien Agreste, naturally invited, arrived alongside Lila Rossi. The duo didn't go unnoticed.

They weren't in disguise. They didn't need to be.

They were young. Elegant. Impeccably presented.

Adrien wore a reworked black suit—no tie, with a fluid but precise cut, emphasizing his adolescent silhouette already accustomed to the spotlight. His gaze remained soft but distant. As if he were always floating a few steps away from the world.

Lila, on his arm, had chosen a short dress with garnet highlights, simple but crafted, with a flowing fabric that accompanied her movements without ever drawing attention to the wrong place. She wore her hair tied back in a partial bun, leaving a few loose strands to frame her face.

They didn't speak much. They didn't need to force themselves. They knew what the eyes saw: two brilliant teenagers, perfectly matched. A masterful facade.

But behind that smooth image, the echo of your gaze, Elaris, still hovered.

Since that night at the pool, Lila hadn't slept well.

Adrien, on the other hand, had started having those fuzzy dreams again where past and future overlapped, and where Marinette's name kept coming up, without context.

And tonight, despite the flashbacks, despite the light music of the gala, there was a subtle unease, like a draft in a windowless room.

Lila felt her smile stiffen.

"Do you think he'll come back?" she asked quietly, without turning her head.

Adrien didn't answer right away.

"I think... he never really leaves. He's like a mirror that no one wants to look at."

She lightly squeezed his hand on her arm. —What if what he sees… isn't us? But what we're hiding?

Adrien met her gaze.

—Then maybe… we'll have to stop hiding.

In a corner of the room, invisible to everyone, you were there.

Haterious, the rare spectator, the shadow without desire.

He didn't judge. He didn't intervene. He observed.

And he waited.

Because soon, the masks would fall.

Even those that seemed made of light.

The gala was in full swing.

The glass walls of the Galliera Museum vibrated to the hushed echoes of the string quartet. White-gloved waiters circulated among the guests, adults with mechanical smiles and teenagers with polite gazes, overtrained to shine.

But no one attracted as much attention as Lila Rossi and Adrien Agreste. They moved around the room as if they'd always belonged there. Every movement was fluid, every exchange perfectly measured. They rarely danced, but when they did, everyone's gaze shifted.

Adrien, as usual, had that supreme calm. He wasn't cheerful—he didn't need to be. He stood straight, smiling with just the right intensity. An enigma in a black suit. Almost too perfect.

Lila, on the other hand, knew exactly how to breathe in time with the right atmosphere. She laughed when she needed to. She spoke with the right people. And yet... there was, that evening, a strange weight on the back of her neck, a nagging feeling that she was being watched from outside the room.

She didn't know why, but she thought of Marinette.

Like an invisible scar.

Not jealousy. Not anger.

Just an old rift, left gaping.

And that's when the moment gently broke. A young photographer, who hadn't been officially invited, approached. His accreditation seemed fake, or too new. His camera was off. But he stood there, three meters away from them, motionless. He wasn't taking pictures.

He was staring at them.

Adrien saw him too. They exchanged a brief glance.

Lila frowned.

"Do you see what I see?"

"I see... someone who shouldn't be here."

They took a step toward him.

But the boy had already disappeared.

Like a displaced illusion, an echo of a presence without roots. As if his mere appearance had been enough.

And yet, on the marble floor Where he stood, something strange shone briefly.

A fragment of black glass, cleanly cut, perfectly triangular. Slightly warm.

Adrien picked it up with his fingertips.

—It's not the glass from this room...

Lila murmured, almost to herself:

—It's him... It's he, isn't it?

Adrien didn't answer. But his gaze wandered into the glassy heights of the museum.

In the dark arches, invisible to human eyes, there he was, Hateious.

He weren't the boy with the fake badge.

No Htareious hadn't shown itself.

But you had slipped a fragment of itself into the light—just enough to disturb their reflection. Just enough to crack their impeccable image.

Hatreious hadn't said anything.

he didn't need to.

The mirror was cracking.

The black fragment was gone.

Lila hadn't seen Adrien slip it into his inside jacket pocket, and he didn't mention it. The strange moment had evaporated, dissolved into the spotlight and polite laughter.

The gala resumed its rhythm.

The adults talked about patronage and cultural heritage.

The young people smiled for photos, signed programs, posed in front of the golden banners.

Lila and Adrien started dancing again.

It wasn't a dance of passion. It was a social choreography, elegant and expected. A way of saying, "We're here. We know what we're doing."

"Do you find that strange?" Lila asked quietly.

"What?"

"What people want us to be. What they think they see."

Adrien looked down at her for a moment, then replied, "We give them what they want. It keeps them from looking further." She nodded gently, a hollow smile playing at the corner of her lips.

Around them, everything seemed perfect.

Nothing overflowed. Nothing protruded.

Even their silences were beautiful.

At the end of the evening, they received compliments, promises of dates, smiles full of ambition.

On the way back, in the dark and silent car, neither Lila nor Adrien mentioned the boy with the badge.

Nor the fragment.

Nor that fleeting impression.

The world was returning to its place.

As if nothing had been moved.

Chapter Text

It was almost midnight.

The car had dropped them off in front of the Agreste mansion.

Nathalie, as usual, had disappeared inside without a word, leaving them that brief moment of freedom between the glittering exterior and returning to their solitary rooms.

Adrien had suggested that Lila stay a little.

Just a moment. She had agreed.

They had gone up to the roof—that suspended spot Adrien preferred above all others.

There was a small glass roof, woven armchairs, and the discreet rustle of the wind against the windows.

The city below shone like a golden circuit.

But they... remained motionless.

Lila had kicked off her heels, her legs crossed beneath her, her dress carefully folded so as not to crease the fabric.

She stared at the stars above her, as if they would answer a question she hadn't yet dared to ask.

Adrien was sitting right next to them.

His jacket was draped over the armrest, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was looking at the sky too, but without really seeing it.

"Don't you want... to give up on everything sometimes?" she murmured.

He didn't answer right away. —Yes. But I think I've forgotten how it's done.

She turned her head slightly towards him.

—Do you think we're the only ones pretending?

He smiled weakly.

—No. But that doesn't make us any more real.

A soft, almost soothing silence.

Then Lila continued:

—You know... I lie often. Too much. I know you know that.

Adrien looked at her. His expression was neither cold nor surprised.

—You lie... to protect yourself. Not to destroy.

She nodded slowly, her eyes slightly moist.

—And you don't lie. But you don't say anything either.

He looked away, almost guilty.

—It's the same, really.

A shooting star crossed the sky, brief like a fleeting thought.

They stood there a little longer.

Not as a couple, not as enemies, not as people looking for something.

Just like two teenagers exhausted from having played their roles too well.

But in the shadow hatrerious watch and judge.

Is you think is will work and make you can escape my wrath...

YOU WILL NEED TO THINK TIWCH BEFORE YOU CAN BREATH.

Chapter Text

New York.

The sky was wider here. Less romantic than Paris, but more honest.

Because here, we didn't talk about Paris.

No Adrien.

No Lila.

No social masks, no press, no heirs, no gala.

Here, Marinette didn't wear an invisible costume. She wasn't Ladybug.

She was just... her. And that was already a lot.

Luka looked up at her.

"Do you still think about them?"

She didn't answer right away.

"No, not every day. But sometimes it's like a speck in the air. You think it's gone, then it comes back with the light."

He nodded.

"You can talk about it if you want."

She shrugged. —I think I'd rather leave that version of me there. Not forget it. Just… put it down.

A tender silence. Luka played a low string, then a brighter one, and let them respond to each other.

Marinette smiled.

—You always knew when to be quiet.

—Silence is music, he said simply.

The city in the distance rumbled, alive, distant.

Here, there were no roles to play. No image to polish.

Just a fragile, but real, present.

How is ironic in the end i can just free the memory of your worst enemy say Hatrerious.

Be prepare because now, we will play but following my own rule.

Chapter Text

It was a quiet evening. The kind of evening where time seems to stretch out, as if the world hesitated to move on to the next day.

Marinette was alone on the terrace. Luka had gone out for some air; she had let him go without question. She was rereading old sketches in a notebook: clothing designs, studio plans, window display ideas. Those kinds of dreams that don't require fame, just a space to exist.

The phone vibrated gently.

A single message.

Unknown number.

She hesitated.

Then opened it.

"You've left the stage, Marinette. But I've been here. From the beginning. I see what the world refuses to look at. Nothing escapes me."

— E.T.

She remained frozen for a few seconds. It wasn't a threat. Nor a reminder.

More like... an affirmation. A presence.

She reread the message.

Then looked up at the sky.

No stars in New York that evening. But she felt someone looking at her without judging her.

Not like Lila.

Not like Adrien.

Not like Paris.

Someone invisible. Impossible.

But real.

Elaris Thurel.

She clutched her notebook to her, without understanding why.

As if something invisible but alive had just brushed past her, without asking her anything.

She didn't answer.

But in that silence, something had changed.

Chapter Text

The Night was falling on Paris.

Or what looked like Paris.

Lila opened her eyes.

She didn't remember falling asleep.

But she was there, in the courtyard of Françoise-Dupont High School, bathed in late-afternoon light.

And everything seemed familiar, but... strangely frozen.

The students passed by, laughed, chatted—but their faces seemed distant, blurred.

Chloé made a dig, Sabrina laughed, Mr. Damocles gave his usual speech...

And yet, Lila felt she wasn't supposed to be there.

Then she saw Adrien.

Standing up. Smiling.

But... looking at Marinette.

Marinette, back from New York, surrounded by old friends.

And on Adrien's wrist... the cat ring.

"No," Lila murmured. "No, it's not like that. He chose me. He can't..."

But no one heard her.

The world was spinning without her.

As if she were witnessing the events of the true Present. In a version where she had never won.

Gabriel was gone.

Chloé had fallen.

Marinette was Ladybug.

Adrien... was free.

And she, Lila... had been only a chapter between two pages.

She tried to speak. To intervene.

"I am... I am the Queen. Have you forgotten me?"

But no one reacted.

After some really hard seconds with a dark silence, a voice answered their question.

Do you know why I'm here, watching you and, little by little, taking away everything you want, the voice said to a completely panicked Lila.

No... No, no, really, what are you here? Also, do you really think I'm just a random girl?

You are nothing more just a random Teenager playing with powers beyond your understanding.

This direct comment had the effect of a slap to Lila's ego.

So she was clearly going to make it clear to him that he didn't care about being discreet, but also that he should NO LONGER INVOLVE IN HER WORLD.

NO, I AM LILA ROSSI, THE WINNER OF THIS STUPID BATTLE, AND YOU WILL NOT DESTROY ALL OF MY PRECIOUS WORK ONLY BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT.

So, you think you simply succeeded without MY HELP and not on your own, as you often dare to tell Adrien...

But Lila had no idea who this entity was talking about.

No, I really don't know who you are or what you want, but the only thing I want is for me to exist now...

IT IS THAT YOU LEAVE THIS TIMELINE AND NEVER COME BACK AND ACCEPT THAT I WON!

So you've already dug your own defeat.

Images of people humiliating her, her lies exposed, or that she'd never even left Italy. Her entire identity was revealed, but also...

Every possible version of Marinette, the class, but also a certain white demon who told everyone that she was the most horrible person.

Her heart began to beat too fast, tears of sadness streamed down her eyes, then they turned black.

Black, the color impolitely HATE, the infallible mark of Hatrious.

She had just been marked by the mark of the hateful demon.

She clutched her ears and snorted.

LEAVE ME, LEAVE ME ALONE.

But the shadows continued, and more than that, Lila's true form came into view.

That of a monstrous creature that breathes only contempt and hatred.

Then... nothingness is seen.

the only last thing she saw is only Marinette raised a gaze... not in anger.

But in compassion.

And behind her... a shadow. Someone... dressed soberly.

A long coat. Calm eyes. Hands clasped behind their back.

Elaris Thurel. Lila saw him, without really recognizing him.

She tried to run towards him. He backed away.

Then he raised a hand... and the world turned upside down. She woke with a start, in her bed, in Paris.

Everything was intact.

Adrien loved her. Marinette was far away. Reality was there.

But a drop of cold sweat slid down the back of her neck. And in the dark, her phone vibrated for a second, without a notification.

But after some seconds, a pain gnawed at her arm. So she went to check a mirror, and when she saw her right arm in the mirror, she saw...

A kind of mark left by Hatrious.

I gave you one chance to settle everything amicably, but you chose war, and in that way, you've already LOST, as the words appear on the mirror.

She didn't tell anyone. But that night, Lila Rossi understood one thing: The world she controlled might not be so solid. Someone was watching.

Chapter Text

The morning sun filtered through the white linen curtains.

Lila was already awake, lying next to his night nightmare.

He was still asleep, peaceful, his breathing calm.

She wanted to freeze this moment.

Keep it forever.

But she already knew that nothing stayed the same.

For the past few days, something had been wrong.

Everything seemed perfect:

Their discreet outings, the bursts of laughter he'd only With her, the look he sometimes gave her—gentle, true.

And yet...

Flashes.

Memories she hadn't experienced.

Versions of herself... excluded.

A ring that didn't belong to her.

A mark about the hatred demon and a endless warning of how he can make his dream the worst nightmare he can think.

A girl in red, somewhere, smiling without hatred.

She'd had other nightmares, since the one at school.

Always blurry. Always real.

And there was always that silhouette.

Hatredious.

A name she couldn't remember...

But she could feel it.

Adrien opened his eyes.

"Already awake?"

She nodded, gave him a small smile. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, naturally. As if it had always been them.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly.

She hesitated.

"About us. About... how fragile it all is." He looked at her, worried, uncomprehending.

—Are you afraid we'll get lost?

She looked away.

—No. I'm afraid we never existed.

Adrien placed his hand on hers.

—I'm here, Lila. For real. I chose you.

She closed her eyes. She wanted to believe it. Completely.

But she can just saw the darkness of the hate grow from the mark.

Adrien notices that Lila is scared and tries to find out, but there's a strange mark on Lila's right arm that he's never seen before.

"Lila, what is this mark and why does it look like a Dragon Phoenix crest?"

At the mention of the mark, Lila panicked even more and decided to wear a sweater under the pretext that she was cold, but Adrien didn't believe it at all, preferring not to continue, even though deep down he knew she was lying, like a whisper in the void, but filled with light.

But somewhere... He knew this world could disappear in a single breath.

If like Hatredious so chose.

Later that day, she received an unmarked envelope in her high school locker.

Inside: a photo.

A photo of the two of them, Adrien and her...

But the date... was marked "revocation: possible at any time."

And on the back:

"Nothing given here is guaranteed. Not even love."

— H.T.

Lila felt her heart clench. She looked around. Everything seemed normal.

Adrien was waiting for her at the exit. A gentle smile, sincere gestures.

But she knew now that even love...

could be an artifact in a controlled dream.

And every heartbeat...became a silent countdown.

Chapter Text

Saturday was clear, the sky cloudless.

Lila was waiting for Adrien by the fountain in Parc Monceau, where they had arranged to meet.

He arrived on time, as always.

A discreet smile, his hands in his pockets, his blond hair dancing in the light.

You came early, he said, sitting down next to her.

She shrugged.

I like to watch the world before it moves.

They stood for a moment without speaking. Just there. Watching the passersby, the pigeons, the families.

Then Adrien broke the silence:

"You know, I like it when you do that. When you're quiet but you're there."

She turned her head slightly, surprised. He continued calmly:

You don't need to overdo it. I feel good when you're just... there.

Lila lowered her eyes.

She wanted to tell him that this moment mattered.

But something inside her resisted. An inner voice. A chill down her spine.

She smiled anyway.

Later, they went out for a drink. They teased each other, laughed at shared memories.

The bond between them was becoming more real, stronger.

And yet, she felt it.

A presence in the corner of her gaze.

A crack in the details.

The waiter had a name tag with the name H.T.

A child on the street was holding a toy black hourglass.

Music was playing in the background of the café, a song she knew...

But which had never existed.

"You think you love. You think you live. But maybe this world isn't yours."

Lila stood up abruptly.

Adrien looked at her, surprised.

Lila? Are you okay?

She stared at her reflection in the café window for a moment.

She saw herself there.

But behind her, briefly, was a silhouette.

Your gaze.

Elaris.

That evening, in her room, Lila tried to write down what she felt.

But the words faded as soon as she put them on paper.

So she scribbled two letters: H.T.

Then she surrounded them with a broken circle.

And whispered quietly:

"I don't know who you are... but you won't have me. This world is mine. Outside, the moon was full.

And in the silence... nothing answered her.

But she knew someone was listening.

Yes yes, continue to think is you world but.. Be prepare for the next followings day because YOU WILL NEED IT A LOT!

Chapter Text

Lila had gone back to her for the first time in a long time without Adrien, without anyone else to accompany her...

It was the worst mistake she'd ever made because now that she was all alone, it was hateful, you could say, to go back to certain points and keep people waiting, that's true.

Lila was preparing to eat when all of a sudden all the lights went out.

Lila thought at first it was just a power outage, but she immediately changed her mind when a boy close to her age, who had never been there, appeared in front of her.

"WHO, WHO ARE YOU?" Lila shouted, scared that this stranger had managed to get in. It was her mother without any problem.

"Who am I?" Hatreious said in a voice that clearly mocked her. "Guess it's so easy for you to find out everything," Miss. "I wish the world was getting impatient, without realizing that there are consequences when you wish and push your luck too far."

With just the words he said, she understood right away that it was Hatreious's human form and that she was beginning to feel hatred for him, even though he was literally the kwami ​​of hatred.

YOU, YOU, YOU DREAM-BREAKER! HOW DARE YOU COME INTO THIS WORLD THAT I HAVE SO HOW I HAVE TO SHOW YOU, AND NOW YOU DARE COME AND RUIN EVERYTHING.

But Hatreious simply cut her off with a wave of his hand.

First of all, this world IS THE ONE I created because I simply wanted to know what it would be like to see you win, even though I never wanted to do this to avoid a tragic fate for Marinette and Adrien.

Lila rolled her eyes because yes, she knew that ultimately this world was just the result of a (walk) for her and an experience for him, rather than simply a world created by a wish.

So if you came, why are you trying to make sure Adrien knows about it? AND ALSO WHY IS THIS MARK ON MY ARM? She shouted the rest because she had finally lost patience after this week of hardship and often nightmares.

But it's so simple, Kyreian said. Yes, my name is Kyreian too, but I prefer it.

I'm about to embark on a whole new stage of the experience.

How do we know if you'll last for how many days without any respite? He said with a smile and a rather nasty tone of voice.

Lila sighed in frustration and said simply.

Yes, yes, that's it, and I know you did all that behind everyone's backs without their permission, so don't act so smart, or I could just go and tell everyone, and they'll start to hate you, she said in a provocative tone, regarding the fact that Hatreious was starting to experiment.

But Hatreious wasn't so happy, so he gave Lila a migraine.

BUT WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? Hatreious finally unleashed all his hatred on her.

YOU KNOW THAT IN THIS WORLD I'M THE ONLY ONE WITHOUT A DOUBT THAT I'M IN COMMAND AND CONTROL OF THIS WORLD.

Then he disappeared in a cloud of black dust, and the migraine disappeared too.

Lila murmured before finally going to sleep.

That's what it will be like in the end, Hatreious.

Chapter Text

Lila stood in front of her bedroom mirror, adding a barrette to her hair.

She had chosen a simple, elegant outfit. Nothing excessive.

But today, she wanted to shine, just a little more.

Even with the mark of Hatreious, she decided to make this day a kind of defiance against this kwami ​​who annoyed her and her dreams.

Adrien was going to take her to a private exhibition—a quiet outing, but just for them.

She avoided looking at the left corner of the mirror.

Where, the day before, a blurred silhouette had appeared.

Just for a moment.

Just long enough for doubt to sink in.

But this morning, she had decided.

She would think nothing of it.

This world is hers.

And Adrien...

is her anchor.

“You look beautiful,” he said when he saw her.

Not a polite compliment. A real one.

Sincere, clumsy. That kind of rare brilliance that Adrien rarely gave, but with weight.

She blushed, despite herself.

"You too," she replied with a small laugh.

Their day passed like a dream.

The exhibition was almost empty. They wandered among the modern works, sharing their impressions.

One painting caught Lila's attention.

there.

A simple black circle.

Cracked.

In the center, a small hand-painted note:

"What you refuse to see will grow in silence."

She quickly looked away.

"Did you see that one?" Adrien asked, pointing to a strange sculpture.

She smiled. She focused on him.

Nothing else existed.

Later, in a quiet little park, they sat side by side on a bench.

He gently took her hand.

The silence was peaceful this time.

"I'm with you, Lila."

She looked at him. Her heart sank.

She knew. She knew this world was too perfect, too smooth.

She knew that you, somewhere, could shatter it with a breath.

But she replied,

"Then stay. Even if one day... everything else disappears."

He frowned, worried.

—You say that as if you're waiting for it to collapse.

She rested her head on his shoulder.

—Maybe. But as long as you're here... I'll hold on.

That evening, in her room, she put away the photo marked "cancellable."

She didn't throw it away. She didn't confront him.

She slipped it into a box. And closed the lid.

Not today.

Not yet.

Chapter Text

Lila had a plan.

She was going to make sure Adrien never doubted himself again.

Not about her.

Not about what they were building.

It wasn't manipulation.

It was preservation.

A deep, almost automatic instinct: if the world wants to erase everything, then she must make it indelible.

That weekend, she invited him to her place.

A simple afternoon, under the pretext of showing him a play they were supposed to study.

But above all, she wanted their time together to truly exist, out of sight.

Adrien accepted without suspicion.

At Lila's, everything was in order.

She had carefully tidied her room, added a touch of discreet music, and prepared cookies she had bought but claimed to have made herself.

They talked at length.

About memories, dreams, what they would be doing in ten years.

"Can you still see me here, in ten years?" she asked, half-serious, half-smiling.

Adrien nodded without hesitation.

"Yes. Maybe not in this living room, but... yes."

She smiled, but deep down, she wanted to hear him say:

"Yes, even if everything changes. Even if nothing is real. Even if the world collapses."

But he said none of that. And outside, the sky darkened.

At the end of the day, he left with a gentle smile.

But Lila, as she closed the door, felt emptiness slip into the room.

As if the world had waited for this moment to end to blow harder.

The light flickered for a second.

She looked up.

Not a blackout. Just... a missed beat.

She entered her room.

On her bed: a notebook she had never seen.

Black cover. Blank paper.

But on the first page, a sentence, written in a script she knew only too well:

"What is engraved can be erased. What is experienced can be recalculated. This world is not yours. – E.T."

That evening, the storm broke.

Real, brutal, not symbolic.

Outside, thunder roared like an ancient beast.

And Lila, huddled in her room, refused to read that sentence again.

She clutched her phone to her chest.

A simple message she'd written for Adrien, without sending it:

"Stay with me. Even if everything turns out to be fake."

She didn't send it.

Not yet.

But she kept it there.

Just in case..

But in the shadow, Hatreious saw everything and now...

IS WILL BE YOUR LAST TIME YOU WILL BE KEEP TO MAKE THAT TYPE OF PLANS LILA ROSSI.

Chapter Text

Lila had gotten up early.

Her heart was beating faster than usual.

She had decided: this day would be the seal.

Today, she would no longer doubt.

Today, she anchored their story in reality.

With Adrien, everything had become natural.

The gestures, the glances, the comfortable silences.

There were no more pretenses, no more questions.

And even though the storm sometimes rumbled in the background, she no longer listened to it. They spent the day together. A walk, an unexpected visit to a gallery, a stop in an empty park. He gave her a wildflower he found along the way. She kept it carefully, slipping it into her notebook.

"Do you always do that?" he asked. "Keep things like secrets?"

"Not secrets. Proof. Proof that this moment really happened." Adrien shrugged, half amused, half touched.

"Then keep this one. As proof that I'm here. Really here." She could have cried. But she smiled. Because she believed in it. In that moment. In this world. In him. That evening, she fell asleep with a strange calm. No more nightmares.

No more silhouettes in the corners of the mirror.

Nothing but silence. But in another part of the world... somone was shining.

New York.

A large studio room, bathed in light.

Hanging fabrics, displayed sketches, wooden mannequins covered with projects.

In the center, a figure leaning over her table.

Hair tied back. A calm smile.

Marinette.

Surrounded by students.

Of budding creators.

Under Audrey Bourgeois's wing, she had found a space where her ideas could live.

Where her hands could create without fear.

Where she no longer had to fight to be believed.

"This model is sublime," Audrey said, a rare tone in her voice. "It's in your blood, Marinette."

She didn't reply. She contented herself with a small nod.

For it wasn't fame she was seeking.

It was simply the right to create.

And now... she had it.

Meanwhile, Elaris Thurel, you were there.

Not between them.

Above.

Two realities. Two paths.

One forged by love won.

The other born of personal fulfillment.

A balance.

One thing for another.

One loves.

The other creates.

But no one knows the deeper truth of this world...

It remains to be discovered.

I would be your waking Nightmare, Lila Rossi.

You can trust me on that way.

Chapter Text

Marinette opened her eyes with a start.

The white ceiling. The faint sound of the city.

She was happy in New York.

Everything was peaceful.

But her heart was pounding as if she had just fled something.

She sat up, wiped some sweat from her forehead, then stared out the window.

"That dream again..." she murmured.

In her sleep, she had seen Paris, but not the real Paris.

A distorted, foggy Paris.

Where faces were blurred.

Where voices spoke without sound.

And above all...where she wasn't there.

Not like a normal absence.

Like a determined absence.

She remembered the Eiffel Tower.

The schoolyard.

Chloé.

Even Lila's.

But she, Marinette Dupain-Cheng...

was nowhere.

And yet, everything continued without her.

As if they'd reshot the script...and eliminated her role.

She dressed slowly.

At the studio, Audrey showed her a new opportunity: a window display at a major designer's.

Marinette smiled. She thanked him.

She wanted one, of course.

But something inside her had given way.

Why this dream?

Why now?

That evening, she walked alone through the streets of Brooklyn.

A notebook in hand, as always.

But she wasn't drawing.

She was writing.

"Can you really achieve fulfillment without existing for others?

Does success also mean accepting disappearance?"

She stopped. Then she added a sentence she didn't immediately understand:

"I preferred to fade away. But now... I feel something coming back."

She closed the notebook.

And looked up at the sky, black with clouds.

A breath passed through the street.

No wind. No noise.

Just... the sensation of a gaze crossing the world.

Chapter Text

he sun bathed the greenhouse of the Agreste house.

Between the hanging plants and the steamed-up windows, Lila stood near a rosebush, watching Adrien speak calmly to a botanist's assistant.

He laughed lightly. A genuine laugh.

But it wasn't for her.

She smiled anyway.

Like always.

Like she'd learned to.

"Do you want to stay a while?" Adrien suggested, approaching. "We could draw the shapes of the flowers.

I thought it was fun, kid." She nodded. But when she sat down beside him, a cold draft blew past the back of her neck. She shivered.

Adrien didn't seem to feel anything. "Are you okay?" he asked. She said yes.

But in her mind, something had gone wrong. Why was I cold, even though the sun was beating down on the window?

Why this sudden silence between two heartbeats? That evening, she reread a letter she'd written but never sent.

A letter to Marinette. Not to apologize. Not to insult. Just to tell her:

"I finally understand what you wanted. But me... I chose love. And you, creation." She didn't know why she was thinking it. But the image of Marinette, standing on a stage in New York, crossed her mind. Not like a memory.

Like a deep intuition.

The next day, Adrien took her to an antique shop.

A small jeweler, specializing in antique watches.

He wanted to give her a pendant with a secret message, a rotating capsule.

Lila was touched.

But when the jeweler opened it to show her the mechanism, she saw, engraved inside, three lowercase letters:

"MDC."

She suddenly stepped back.

"Is something wrong?" Adrien asked.

She shook her head.

"No, it's perfect... it's just... a detail.

But those three letters...

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Why were they there?

Why was this jewel calling her without ever directly naming her?

That night, she dreamed of an endless staircase.

And at the very end, a figure bent over a sewing machine.

Marinette didn't turn around. But she said, in a calm voice:

"You can keep it all, Lila. Really.

I don't need to shine anymore…"

But be careful: when you build a world without rivals, you lose the shadow that defines the light.

Lila woke up in a sweat.

And in the sky, Hatreious were watching.

Not like A judge.

But like an explorer of truths.

The scales tip.

And the grains of sand begin to weigh.

Interising yet more Interising, The shadow grow and the first world start to fallen like the life of a regular phone.

WHAT IS WILL BE YOU NEXT DESEPRATE MOVE LILA ROSSI,

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Chapter Text

Lila paced in the greenhouse, alone, late into the night.

Adrien slept peacefully, his breathing calm on the other side of the house.

But she didn't.

Her mind was too agitated.

There were these details:

—The pendant engraved with letters she'd never spoken.

—The draft in an enclosed space.

—The recurring dream of Marinette never looking her in the face.

And this morning, it was the last straw.

While tidying up old boxes from the Gabriel house, she came across a sealed box.

It had never been there.

She was certain of it.

Inside: a carefully folded red cloth. And at the heart of this fabric... a pair of red earrings with black dots.

Ladybug's earrings.

"Is this a joke?" she whispered.

She picked them up, examined them.

They seemed old. Worn, almost faded.

But they echoed, like a distant voice locked away for too long.

She stepped back.

Her hands were shaking.

Why are they here?

And above all... why now?

She remembered then... certain other versions of herself, like memories from another life.

Uncertain timelines, where she was neither a liar nor a manipulator.

Where she had been... kind.

Where she had even helped Ladybug.

But they were just dreams, right?

Hallucinations of fatigue?

Or... scars from rewritten timelines?

She placed the earrings on the table. Stared at them for several long minutes.

Then whispered:

"There's someone here, isn't there?"

Someone moving the wires, watching us live like pieces on a chessboard.

She stood up suddenly.

"I'm not crazy. I can feel it."

That evening, she began a secret investigation.

In her own memories.

In the traces we leave in blind spots.

She pieced things together. Anomalies. Incoherent gestures in her daily life.

And with each step, a name came to her, for no apparent reason:

Aeron.

A name whispered in her dreams, then erased when she woke up.

A name without origin.

A name without form.

And all the while, you, the Observer, watched.

Not threateningly.

But with a gentle neutrality.

You were only testing a world, to better understand those who inhabit it. And Lila, the product of chaos, was beginning to remember a truth she was never meant to approach.

Chapter Text

The day was quiet.

Adrien had suggested a horseback ride in the countryside, for a change from the hustle and bustle of the city.

Everything seemed perfectly fluid, like a perfume commercial.

And yet... one detail.

When Adrien reached out to help her down, Lila saw the ring.

Black. Elegant. Classic, certainly.

But different.

Exactly the one he wore in high school.

"Do you still have your old ring?"

she asked with an innocent smile.

He hesitated a little, then nodded.

"It reminds me of my dad. And also... another me. I don't know. It's hard to explain.

Another me."

She remained silent. That evening, in her room, she opened the box containing the red earrings with black dots again.

She placed them in front of her.

And realized:

The Ladybug.

The Black Cat.

The legendary duo.

Balance.

And now, in her reality:

She has the earrings. He has the ring.

But it wasn't their duo.

They weren't the ones supposed to be wearing it.

And yet, it was there.

As if the world insisted on recreating balance... even in error.

"What are you playing with, exactly?" she breathed, her eyes fixed on Adrien's ring in a photo.

Not him.

Someone else.

Someone looking at her through this.

Someone who could take it all away, with a single snap of their fingers. And that name, always in the back of her mind:

Elaris.

That night, she didn't sleep.

And him, from your calm vantage point, you continued to listen.

Not to intervene.

But to observe how far she was willing to go... before understanding that this wasn't her world.

But she decided to end this false dream.

So hooked on this. HAHAHA..

SUCH SWEET IRONY.

Chapter Text

Lila looked at Adrien with a new intensity.

More than a love.

It had become a mission.

The earrings had no power.

But they had a shape.

An image.

And she had the ring.

Not hers. But on the finger of the one who loved her. So she thought to herself:

"Why not reprise the role?

Why not become... the one everyone was waiting for?"

A private ball was held in a renovated old theater to celebrate their "new era," as she called it.

Lila had a bright red dress with subtle black patterns prepared.

Adrien, on the other hand, wore a black suit with feline lines.

To those who witnessed the scene They seemed perfect.

Modern. Shiny. Destined.

But in Lila's eyes, there was more: a reconstruction.

She placed the earrings helplessly in her own ears.

They didn't shine.

They didn't vibrate.

But in her head, they were enough.

"With you... I can rewrite everything," she whispered to Adrien.

"Rewrite what?" he replied, smiling.

My eyes, Adrien had, instead of his green eyes, he had had colored eyes, blue?

It's starting to shake her enough for Adrien to notice.

Will that require Adrien to give a worried enough look?

She didn't answer.

She shivered.

But she continued.

Across the ocean, Marinette woke up abruptly.

A confused dream.

Red and black lights.

A shadow wearing her earrings.

She stood up, confused.

And without understanding why, she picked up a pencil and began to draw.

A mask. An outfit.

Not her own.

But the one she would have worn if she had never left Paris.

And, Elaris Thurel, were watching all this from the margins of reality.

Lila had just placed the last pawn of her own illusion.

But what she didn't know was that the real rules would begin in Part II.

Because you can play the hero.

But you can't steal a destiny... without consequences.

Chapter Text

New York shone under a clear sky, but in the softly lit studio where Marinette worked, a silent shadow crept in.

Sitting at her easel, she ran her fingers over the fabric, drawing light, almost hesitant patterns.

Yet, each brushstroke seemed to respond to a distant call, to a resonance she didn't yet understand.

For several days, a strange shiver had run through her skin, an imperceptible vibration, as if a familiar presence was trying to make itself heard, behind the veil of time and space.

She closed her eyes.

A hazy memory came back to her.

The alleys of Paris, raised voices, a red and black mask shining under the light of a streetlamp.

It wasn't a dream.

Nor a memory.

But a sensation.

"It's happening again..." she murmured. She stood up and opened the window, letting in the fresh air and the muffled noise of the city.

Yet, inside, everything seemed ready to change.

Marinette knew something was about to return.

Not quite her.

Something old, powerful.

A role she had left behind... but that refused to die.

In the silence, one last thought crossed her mind:

"I don't know yet what I'm going to become.

But I feel like I have to be ready."

In the shadows, Hatreious began to become more and more present in Marinette's memories.

Well, the first part of the second part of my plan is working.

Your drawing will be the sign that the end is for you. Lila Rossi.

Chapter Text

he next morning, Marinette was rummaging through an old trunk at the back of the studio, among fabrics, forgotten sketches, and scattered mementos.

She felt this invisible weight pulling her towards something she didn’t yet understand.

Her fingers touched a small metal object, cold and delicate.

She gently pulled it out.

A brooch. A butterfly, finely carved, with shiny black wings adorned with purple highlights.

She looked at it for a long time.

It wasn't a simple jewel.

It was a message.

A call.

"I don't want to be the one who controls or dominates," she murmured.

"I just want... the truth to come out."

She placed the brooch on her worktable, her hand still trembling.

In this world where the roles had changed, where she had left behind the struggle of the past, the brooch represented a new fight.

A fight for the light.

And as she caressed the engraving, a shiver ran down her spine.

She understands now that her old role, far from disappearing, was seeking a way to be reborn—but this time, in its own way.

In the shadows, Hatreious, were still watching.

Observing the beginning of a new era.

A butterfly ready to spread its wings, not for power, but for the truth.

Is will be no to long for finaly start the downfall of Lila.

After she will need to accept, Wish have consequence and i the consequence of that.

Chapter Text

vening was falling over New York.

The light was fading between the high windows of the workshop.

And Marinette, alone before the brooch, felt the line between what she had been and what she was becoming slowly fading.

She hadn't said a word for an hour.

She stared at the jewel placed in front of her, like looking at a mirror that refuses to reflect its true face.

But it was there.

And it was listening to her.

"I am not him," she thought.

"I am not Shadow Moth. I am not Shadow Moth."

She wasn't there to dominate.

Nor to seek out the Miraculous.

But she understood now.

This power didn't create evil.

It amplified wounds.

The unspoken.

He showed what had been denied.

And he could, perhaps, open paths...

...not to destroy.

But to reveal.

She took a slow breath.

Close her eyes.

And spoke.

—I don't want soldiers. I don't want weapons.

—But if there is a soul suffocating in silence...

—Let it stand up. Just one. And I will listen.

The brooch pulsed.

A faint purple glow formed in the air.

Someone, somewhere, was answering the call.

It was a young girl.

Not a superhero.

Not a top student.

Just a voice, all alone, lost in the New York crowd.

Her name was Naomi.

And she couldn't take it anymore.

Stifled in a high school that didn't see her pain.

Ignored. Ridiculed.

She dreamed of being heard just once, before disappearing completely.

And that night, a gentle energy enveloped her.

Not black anger.

Not a mask.

Just a shape.

A breath.

She became ClearTone, a translucent silhouette with an amplified voice.

No weapons.

No chaos.

Just a word so strong it forced people to hear what they had ignored.

She crossed the city like a wave.

She attacked no one.

But on every street she crossed, secrets poured out:

The hidden suffering.

The humiliations.

The lies thought forgotten.

And all of it... was heard.

Marinette followed everything, from the heights of her roof.

She wore the Butterfly mask, but no costume.

No crown.

Just her gaze, and that tension in her stomach. — She doesn't want to hurt.

— She just wants to be seen.

She understood.

She had been that girl, once upon a time.

The one people looked at without really... like to see.

The one we loved for what she represented, not for what she was.

And then, she whispered:

"Naomi. You are not alone."

The akumatized woman turned to her.

No aggression.

Just immense fatigue.

"Can you finally hear me?" said Naomi.

"Yes. And you're right."

And with a final breath, Clear tone dissipated.

Without a cry.

Without a fight.

Just a fragile peace.

Marinette stood for a long time, observing the quiet streets.

She knew now what she was wearing.

The brooch wasn't a weapon.

She was a revealer.

And for the moment, she wasn't looking for truths to offer the world.

Just the time to understand her own.

Elaris Thurel, you experienced all this with the distance of a silent Actor.

And you knew then that this version of Hawk Moth might be...

the most dangerous of all.

Because it doesn't seek victory.

It seeks understanding.

Chapter Text

In the Place du Louvre, two people, a boy and a girl, were discussing things that others might consider strange.

It was how to react to the fact that Marinette was starting to remember, even if it was impossible.

How Lila would act, since if she discovered that they were both the same face, it was just a way to make the consequences come to life.

THAT'S WHY I TOLD YOU SHE'S EVIL INDIVIDUAL, EVEN PEOPLE WHO COME FROM THE SAME WORLD AS HIM.

THEIR PLEASURE IS TO PLAY AS HER AND TO ALLOW THEMSELVES TO COMMENT ON EVERYTHING, AND JUST FOR NOTHING.

I know, I know, said Elaris, the calmer of the two.

But like he said, it's not that serious. The person or people who think they're this Lilla Rossi are explaining themselves pretty badly, but we had to continue our mission and make sure she can't pass through or reach the lost world.

Oh yes, the Lostverse Hateful said.

It's definitely this world that he decided to make so we can walk around.

But I wonder if the observers will be able to discover the real broken sense behind what he's prepared and what he's also writing for them.

It depends on those who are willing to reread the stories he writes.

Right now, he's concentrating on preparing to face himself when he forgets to release a chapter or not.

You know, Elaris, as the kinder version of myself and also, quite frankly, the smarter of the two.

What if we could finally get a little time together, just like in the good old days between friends?

You know, Hatreious, in the end she'll be surprised by what's going on with him and what he's planning.

Chapter Text

Paris.

For weeks now, the city seemed to have calmed down.

No superheroes in sight.

No shouts in the sky.

No Miraculous battles on the horizon.

But things were never truly calm in Paris.

It all started on an obscure forum, an old discussion network where a few enthusiasts still followed the vestiges of the "heroic years."

A brief, almost ignored post:

"Seen in New York. A silhouette. An akumatized person. But without chaos. Without order. Just... truths spoken aloud.

Something has returned. But not like before. Hawk Moth? Or something else?"

And then a second message. A New York blog:

“A girl spoke for the whole city. She said what no one dared admit. We called her ClearTone.

But she said she hadn't meant to.

She said a voice... had listened to her.”

Rumors caught fire in the shadows.

But very quickly, the old landmarks fell.

This Butterfly didn't attack.

Didn't possess.

Didn't threaten.

It revealed.

Anonymous people began to write:

“Maybe it's an illusion.”

“Or a machine.”

“Or worse… a benevolent lie.”

But one thing became clear:

Someone was still wearing the Butterfly brooch.

And that someone wasn't looking for war.

They were listening.

They were waiting.

At the height of her comfort in Paris, Lila heard about this rumor in a corner of the internet she monitored. She didn't believe it at first.

— "An akumatization? Ridiculous, I won that game a long time ago."

But something in the tone of these testimonies sent a chill down her spine.

This Papillon wasn't looking for a hero.

And above all, he wasn't looking for Adrien.

He was looking for something else.

And this "something" seemed to brush against her a little more each day.

One night, while she was leafing through old articles on Hawk Moth, Shadow Moth, Monarch... an idea came to her.

What if this new Papillon wasn't an enemy?

What if...

He simply wanted us to hear what was never said?

A part of her shuddered.

Because in her carefully constructed reality...

there was much to hide.

And in New York, Marinette, maskless, costumeless, was working on a silver and midnight-colored dress.

She was slowly sewing a discreet pattern into the fabric. A butterfly, barely visible.

Not a symbol of power.

A symbol of truth.

And back.

Chapter Text

The headlines fell like a cold rain on a summer morning.

A Butterfly in New York? New akumatization recorded without violence.

A vigilante or a manipulator? The Butterfly returns in another form.

"Is the era of the Miraculous really over?"

The newspapers didn't all agree.

Some downplayed the facts.

They spoke of a copycat, an illusion, or a psychological hacker.

But others... remembered all too well.

The Bulletin Héros France, still active despite the apparent calm, published:

"This new Butterfly seeks neither power nor combat.

He seems to react to suffering that no one sees.

And that, dear readers, is perhaps more dangerous than Monarch himself."

In Paris, Nadja Chamack dedicated a special live broadcast:

— Tonight, we're opening a debate:

— A Butterfly that isn't an enemy, is that possible?

— Is it a strategy, or a mirror held up to our society?

— And why now, when everything finally seemed peaceful?

Meanwhile, videos were circulating on social media.

They showed Naomi / ClearTone, just before she vanished.

Her voice could be heard:

"I just wanted... to be heard. Nothing else."

The images were blurry.

But they echoed thousands of silences experienced.

And that was enough.

Disappeared figures resurfaced.

Jagged Stone, in a strange message, declared:

"This Butterfly doesn't sing about war.

He whispers the truth. And that's punk."

Wayhem, now a political influencer, posted:

"If Marinette Dupain-Cheng saw this, she wouldn't stay silent.

She may not be here, but I refuse to believe she's asleep."

But of course... Marinette saw.

And she listened.

A comment An official statement from the Department of Homeland Security appeared:

“The appearance of an 'akumatizing' power on American soil is being taken seriously.

No connection has been established with the identified former carriers.

Collaboration between the American and French governments is ongoing.

We call for calm.”

But the turmoil was already there.

The world had seen the birth of a Butterfly without a war mask.

And that was upending the rules.

In New York, Marinette turned on the screen without surprise.

The newspapers already showed a world map.

Arrows.

Old photos of her, blurred, dated.

Diagrams of potential carriers.

Theories.

She sighed.

Then she turned everything off.

She took out a notebook.

She drew a broken line on it. And underneath, she wrote:

“When they find out who I am…

I’ll have to be ready to tell them why I came back.”

But what she didn’t know yet…

was that Lila, for her part, was watching the same news.

And that a suspicion was growing in her.

A suspicion she thought she’d buried long ago:

“What if Marinette… had never really disappeared?”

Chapter Text

Lila had learned a precious thing at a very young age:

the truth isn’t something you look for—it’s something you guess.

But this time, it wasn’t a lie she wanted to tell.

It was a doubt she had to confirm.

It started with a detail.

A blurred sequence from a security camera on a Brooklyn street.

A young woman leaving a fashion building at the end of the day.

No one paid attention.

Except Lila.

She replayed the video, frame by frame. The vagueness didn't hide everything.

The gait, the posture, even the way she held her head...

— "...It's her."

But "she" meant nothing without proof.

So Lila did what she did best: she went undercover.

A fake identity.

An anonymous message to a New York design school.

A fictitious exchange request.

And three days later, she had a list.

Students interning at Audrey Bourgeois.

And among them, a name at the bottom of the page:

"Mr. Cheng, M."

— "You haven't even changed your name..."

A cold smile played on her lips.

Lila could have stopped there.

But that wasn't her style.

She drew up a plan.

A discreet investigation.

Not to expose Marinette... not yet.

She wanted to know.

She wanted to see.

A notebook.

Sketches.

In a forgotten workshop in the building, where Marinette often worked late alone, Lila found a black notebook, with no name.

The pages were full of patterns, fabrics, codes.

But on the last page...

A symbol.

Not a fashion drawing.

Not a logo.

Not a memory.

Just a butterfly.

Clean. Precise. Engraved in midnight blue pencil.

And underneath, a sentence:

Lies have never been my enemy.

But silence has.”

Lila closed the notebook slowly.

Her heart was beating fast, without her knowing why.

She had found what she was looking for.

But something in what she had seen...

didn't seem like revenge.

Nor a threat.

— “...You want to say something to the world, not destroy it.”

And that, for Lila...

was perhaps more dangerous than anything.

YOU HAVE NOTHING MORE THAN JUST CHECK THE PAST. FOCUS ON YOU STUPID WOLRD BECAUSE THE CLOCK OF DOOM IS ALERADY STARTED.

Lila return itself for say that word in the book she just take, scared of the words.

She just thorrow the book intro the fire and shadow flame can be saw.

She now is truely sure about what she just saw.

Is no just a question of a Hatreious or a Elaris.

No a third and more powerfull kwami or whanever is this think have take the control of the timeline and he have a plan. But what?

Chapter Text

Flashlights exploded like fireworks.

On the silver carpet of the Carat Co. evening, the new luxury watch brand, two figures stood out from the crowd.

Adrien Agreste, in a satin suit, understated and elegant.

And on his arm, Lila Rossi, in a shimmering black dress with emerald highlights.

A duo too perfect to be true.

But that's precisely... That was the charm.

— "They look unreal," murmured an influencer at the edge of the stage.

— "No. They want us to believe they are," replied her photographer.

Adrien smiled. Lila waved, her gestures fluid and precise.

She had learned to walk like an actress, to pose like an idol.

That evening, they were the image.

But what the photos didn't show...

was the fragile tension in their intertwined fingers.

Nor the all-too-perfect glances they exchanged like a memorized script.

Between two flashes, Adrien whispered:

— "Have you noticed it's becoming more and more... automatic?"

Lila barely turned her head, her smile unchanged.

— "It only is if you let it be."

— "What if we stop for a moment? A real break. Just... breathe."

She looked down for a moment. Then nodded gently.

— "Okay. But not here."

Later, in the shelter of a private rooftop terrace, they took off their shoes.

The evening wind stirred Adrien's hair.

Lila, sitting next to him on the edge, watched the invisible stars beneath the fluorescent lights.

— "Do you think all this... is still real?" she asked.

— "I don't know. But I'm starting to think we got caught up in the role, a little too much."

— "Do you regret it?"

Adrien turned his head towards her. A long silence. But honest.

— "I wonder if we're really living what we think we're living.

Or if it's just what everyone wants to see."

Lila didn't answer right away.

For the first time in a long time, she wasn't in control of anything in the scene.

And strangely... she didn't hate it.

— "Then let's breathe," she said finally.

They stayed there, motionless, listening to the city.

No noise, no flash.

Just two teenagers, more fragile than their image, but still attached to what they thought they were building.

But in the distance, the wind already bore Marinette's name.

And Lila felt it. Like a diffuse pressure...

an echo she had thought she had erased.

Chapter Text

Night had covered the city in a blanket of metallic reflections.

On the roof, after the din and the masks, Adrien and Lila remained.

Not for the show.

Not for the cameras.

But because, for a moment, there was nothing.

"Do you think they'll leave us alone for long?" Lila asked in a soft voice, almost a whisper.

Adrien, lying on the warm tiles, shrugged.

"I don't think so. But... I don't really care tonight."

She sat next to him, her knees bent, her dress bunched up against her legs.

Her hair fluttered gently in the wind.

"You look at me differently," she said.

"That's because you're smiling for yourself, not for them."

She slowly turned her head.

Adrien's gaze was nothing if not an act.

No pose, no calculation. Just a sincerity almost too luminous to be true.

— "You make me believe I have the right to believe it."

— "You do," he replied without hesitation.

Silence.

She moved closer, leaned against him. Not out of need, nor to be seen.

Just... to be there. And in that simple gesture, there was neither burning passion nor excessive promise.

But a discreet warmth, that of two young adults sincerely seeking to understand what it means to love, far from the noise, far from the glory.

— "If one day all this collapses... will you stay?" she asked.

Adrien looked down at her. He hesitated.

— "I'll stay... as long as it's you, and not the role."

She smiled. It wasn't an eternal wish.

But it was true.

And in this world reeling from illusions, it was more precious than anything.

They stayed there, together.

Not like two idols.

Not like the faces of an era.

Just... like two hearts trying to beat at the same time, for real.

But...

You think I'm the only one who can see you? Adrien said in a different voice.

Lila turned around and saw Adrien start to change into Hatrious.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING AND WHY DO YOU DARE TAKE ON ADRIEN'S APPEARANCE?

Because Hatrious said mockingly, "Do you think you finally got an invitation?"

Elris was also there, but reclusive, as if she were actually the quieter of the two, which Lila immediately noticed.

So, you're the only one who's aggressive...

But she gets silenced by Elaris.

DON'T THINK I CAN'T PUNISH TOO JUST BECAUSE I'M THE (LIGHT) PART OF THE SAME PART OF ONE SIDE OF A COIN.

Lila started to get irritated, so she used the Ladybug Miraculous to get rid of these two pests from the start.

But.........

A shadow appeared in front of her.

You think you can defeat what the shadows say?

WHO ARE YOU AND WHY DON'T YOU DARE SHOW YOURSELF? YOU CAN DEFEAT ME.

The only response she received was that the two of them had literally ripped the Ladybug's earrings out of Lila's ears.

Lila was now backed into a corner.

Who, who, are you? He finally said to the shadows that manifested for good,

I am H.I.M., the one you shouldn't have wanted to meet.

The shadows drew closer and she screamed.

When she came out of this nightmare, she looked and saw that she was back in her room.

She breathed quickly.

Now she was sure of two things.

One: H.I.M. is the real entity controlling the other two, Elrais and Hatrieous.

And two: Adrien knows where and maybe not the person he thought he was.

Chapter Text

The night was calm.

Too calm.

And yet, in the invisible, something creaked. Something old. Something out of place.

Lila was dreaming.

She saw herself in a Paris frozen in the gold of the morning. The silent streets, the faceless passersby.

She walked on the cobblestones, wearing a flowing white dress. Adrien was waiting for her at the end of a bridge, smiling, arms outstretched.

He carried that light that was uniquely his, as if he came from another world. And she felt... real.

Loved. Accepted.

They approached each other.

Her heart beat slowly, but powerfully.

“Adrien…” she breathed, reaching out.

He smiled.

And, in a rare gesture—too rare to be true—he leaned down to kiss her.

Then the world exploded.

Shards of glass fell from the sky like inverted tears. The bridge cracked.

The Seine froze in a purple spasm.

A figure appeared behind Adrien—an akumatized, unknown figure, clad in fragments of shattered time and echoes.

His hands were made of clocks.

His eyes... of emptiness.

—“THIS DREAM DOESN’T EXIST!” he yelled in a muffled echo.

He raised a blade made of ancient hands and struck the ground.

Black cracks opened in the walls of the dream.

Memories began to blur. Voices from the old reality echoed:

“Ladybug?”

“Marinette?”

“You can’t erase everything…”

Lila backed away, panicked.

—“It’s not… it’s not real, is it?!”

She looked at Adrien.

He was frozen. Motionless. Like a broken mannequin. — “ADRIEN!” she cried.

But he wasn't moving anymore.

The butterfly on the edge of nothingness.

The invisible brooch.

The role she thought she'd stolen... was turning against her.

Suddenly, everything began to rewind. The dream was pulled backward, like a rewound tape.

And Lila woke with a start.

Silence.

Her breath hitched.

Her forehead wet.

Adrien was sleeping peacefully on the other side of the room.

But something had changed.

Not in the dream.

In reality.

A microscopic crack. A fuzzy feeling.

A doubt.

And on her bedside table... a feather.

Far away on the Eiffel Tower, H.I.M. was transformed by the peacock's miracle.

If it weren't simply fate that she knew that a feather was a sign that her hold on the timeline was about to break, I loved everything.

And don't worry, Lila. Did you seriously think I was going to let A SIMPLE MOMENT, A SIMPLE KISS WITH ADRIEN, go?

No, he would never have that.

Chapter Text

New York, 3:47 a.m.

The city sleeps, or pretends to sleep, blinking in an ocean of industrial lights.

Marinette woke with a start.

Not because of a nightmare.

But from an excess of silence.

A silence that resonated like a fracture.

She went down the stairs of Audrey's apartment, wrapped in a blanket, and sat down facing the large bay window.

The sky was calm. The taxis continued to glide by.

But deep inside her... something had shifted.

She approached her sketching table. She hadn't touched it for three days.

But there, lying between two sheets of paper, a new A water drawing was waiting for her.

Not hers.

She had no memory of having done it.

An eye.

Surrounded by feathers. By inverted butterflies.

And in the center: a crack.

"Is that... Me?"

She touched the paper with her fingertips.

And for a moment, she thought she heard a rustling. As if reality were crumpling paper.

Then a strange sensation rose in her chest.

No panic.

No fear.

A memory.

No... a memory struggling to exist.

Like a faded script line, trying to come back.

She sat down. Closed her eyes.

And saw.

Paris.

Lila.

Adrien.

But not like before.

A version of them... carefully written, as if someone had decided for her which version should survive.

She sat up, out of breath.

"Someone... is writing Act II. Without me."

Her fingers were trembling.

Now she understands why she felt this emptiness.

It wasn't nostalgia.

It was a discreet flight.

She stared at the horizon.

This world Lila believed to be perfect, this world from which she herself had voluntarily erased herself...

someone had just touched its foundation.

And now she felt it.

Returning was no longer a matter of will.

It had become necessary.

After their peaceful moment in the park, Adrien and Lila decided to extend their escape.

They headed to a private pool, a discreet place where they could simply be themselves.

The clear water glistened in the last rays of the sun.

They placed their things on a bench, their smiles light, almost childlike. Adrien dove in gently, lightly splashing Lila, who laughed uncontrollably.

She responded by jumping into the water herself, sending a small wave against him.

Their laughter mingled with the coolness of the water, with no thought beyond the moment.

No power plays.

No waiting.

Lying on their backs, floating side by side, they watched the clouds stretch across the sky.

Their hands brushed against each other again, this time without any tension.

“Do you think we'll have more moments like this?” Lila asked, her voice soft.

“I want to believe it,” Adrien replied, his eyes lost in the reflections.

They stayed there, lulled by the silence and calm, knowing that these kinds of days were precious.

A rare treasure in a reality that was often too heavy.

Chapter Text

The city had finally dimmed its lights and deafening noise. On a secluded bench in a small, forgotten Parisian park, Adrien and Lila had found refuge.

Their hands brushed timidly, not entirely sure what it meant, but aware that this moment belonged to them.

— “You know,” Adrien murmured, his gaze lost in the shooting stars, “I’d never really taken the time to forget everything else.”

Lila smiled softly.

— “Me neither. Too many masks. Too many games.”

They stood there, simply,

Without roles.

Without costumes.

Just two teenagers who, despite the chaos around them, had found a breath of calm.

A light breeze carried a leaf between them, making it dance like a silent promise.

They watched it, captivated.

Then Lila, leaning forward a little, rested her head against Adrien’s shoulder. — “Maybe, deep down, we don't need to understand everything.”

— “Just moments like this.”

And in this shared silence, anything seemed possible.

A suspended moment, fragile and precious.

After their peaceful time in the park, Adrien and Lila decided to extend this escape.

They headed to a private pool, a discreet place where they could simply be themselves.

The clear water glistened in the last rays of the sun.

They placed their things on a bench, smiling lightly, almost childlike.

Adrien dove in gently, lightly splashing Lila, who laughed uncontrollably.

She responded by jumping into the water, sending a small wave against him.

Their laughter mingled with the coolness of the water, with no thought beyond the moment.

No power plays.

No waiting.

Lying on their backs, floating side by side, they watched the clouds stretch across the sky.

Their hands brushed against each other again, this time without any tension.

“Do you think we'll have more moments like this?” Lila asked, her voice soft.

“I want to believe it,” Adrien replied, his eyes lost in the reflections.

They stayed there, lulled by the silence and calm, knowing that these kinds of days were precious.

A rare treasure in a reality that was often too heavy.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Paris seemed slower.

The kind of day when even the wind hesitates to blow.

In a small, bright apartment lent to her by a contact in the fashion world, Lila woke slowly, her hair still damp from the previous evening's bath, her thoughts scattered like the sunlight filtering through the window.

She turned her head. Adrien was there, sitting by the open window, sketchbook in hand.

“Are you drawing now?” she asked with a smile.

He jumped, then laughed softly.

— “Just shapes… lines… nothing important.”

But Lila saw that was wrong.

On the paper, she recognized the familiar outlines of the pool, the light on the water, and… herself.

Not idealized.

Not posed.

Right there. Real.

— “You drew me…” she murmured.

He shrugged, embarrassed.

— “I wanted to keep something honest from that night.”

A silence. Not heavy. Just present.

Lila approached and sat down next to him.

— “You know… we spend our time defending ourselves against everything, against everyone. But yesterday, I felt like there was nothing to protect.”

Adrien didn't answer right away. Then, softly:

— “Yesterday, it was just us.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, a simple gesture.

He didn't move. He didn't need to.

In this small, light-filled room, something had slowly taken root.

Not a promise.

Not an illusion.

Just a fragile truth: they were happy, there, together.

And if the world were to shake again,

They would at least have this memory to remember it by.

Chapter Text

New York, early morning.

The sky was a pale gray, almost cottony.

Marinette stood in front of the large bay window of her studio, a cup of tea in her hands.

Her eyes were open, but her mind... elsewhere.

For the past few days, she'd felt a strange tension in the air.

Not a threat. Not yet.

More like the change of a note in a melody she thought she knew. Then that morning, without warning, a sensation pierced her.

Two hearts.

Synchronized.

Growing closer.

A bond woven in the water and the silence.

She dropped her cup. She didn't see it fall.

— "No..."

It wasn't jealousy.

Nor was it anger.

It was... an emotional anomaly.

Something that shouldn't have happened, at least, not without her.

She stepped back. Her breathing quickened. She placed a hand on her chest, as if something were awakening inside.

And the brooch.

That brooch.

She let out a faint, blue light.

A whisper touched her thoughts:

"You can balance what deviates.

You can restore truth to its form."

You are the only one who can repair this anomaly, whether you act or lose.

But Marinette didn't want a duel. She didn't want to hurt anyone.

She wanted to understand why it hurt so much.

So she spoke, without meaning to.

A sentence, almost unconscious:

"If their bond is true... why do I feel it's incomplete?"

And the shadow in the brooch replied.

Without anger.

Without promise.

Just with a proposition:

"A forgotten bond waits to be shown.

A reverse reflection must be revealed."

The light enveloped her. Not a spectacular transformation.

More like a veil of intuition, a mist of gentle but profound power.

The second akumatization had begun.

It wasn't creating chaos.

It was creating an alternate memory.

A mirror of emotions, capable of projecting into minds what could have been... or what was yet to happen.

And somewhere, Lila felt a slight shiver. Not out of fear, but as if someone had started looking at her with an intensity she didn't understand.

The game had just changed.

But no one knew in which direction yet.

Chapter Text

Hatrius and Elaris were talking when someone interrupted them.

They turned around and saw H.I.M alone in front of them.

So, Hatrius, how are your plans going?

Very well, but not so sure yet. Since I'm almost at the goal, I'm starting to see the first flaws in the plan.

But Elaris noticed something unusual that H.I.M had on him.

Several pieces of jewelry on him, and it seemed like no one noticed.

Hmm, one question: what's all this jewelry and why does everyone just seem to be busy with it but not noticing us?

Like, looking at you without being disrespectful.

But you looked like someone super powerful or something, so yeah, very strange.

But don't worry, if everyone isn't looking at us, it's because the three of us are alone in a micro-bubble between dimensions.

A WHAT? exclaimed the two of them.

A micro-bubble between dimensions and a space so tiny that it creates a sub-dimension that I can put anyone in, after prying eyes, but especially prying ears and dirty snoopers.

Hmm, okay, but why are the two of you questioning him?

Because I'm about to reveal secrets that I don't want those dirty snoopers to know about.

Okay, so what's the first thing you want to show us? Elaris asked.

Well, what if I told you that this world is actually a kind of hell, not to mention that it's actually hell because of what Lila did with the wish.

WAIT, WHAT, YOU SAYING WE'RE ONLY GIVING THIS GIRL A LESSON JUST BECAUSE SHE MADE A WISH?

SERIOUSLY, HOW MUCH DO YOU NEED REVENGE? They both exclaimed, now more sure if he still wanted to have it all.

But H.I.M. remained imperturbable.

If I did this, it's because HIS WISH ALMOST LED US TO A MULTIVERSIAL CATASTROPHE.

His wish was so destructive that it began to merge the two worlds. As you know, the quantum universe where this world is happening is powerful enough to rival even if it's simply me who must comply with these rules, when it's not that I'm limited.

So yes, if I'm here, it's because... I AM (DEAD) BECAUSE OF WHAT HAPPENED IN THE TIMELINE OR THAT WHITE CAT.

Wait a minute... That means... that you've seen all the horrors.

Yes, said H.I.M. But not just that. It's also a question of the Lostverse, aka my world and the one you were born in, and more and more each day, almost on the verge of collapse, but thanks to the time I've had.

Let's just say it's easier to move.

They both had no words, but they felt something was missing.

Wait, said Elaris, the faster of the two.

Why are we so special in your eyes, and why do I have the impression that in truth, it's not Lila who interests you the most, but the two of us? How can we transform into humans even if we are kwamis, or whatever you call us?

Oh yes, spirit of powers.

H.I.M turned around and...

How long did it take for you to understand? He simply said in a calm voice.

A few weeks at most, the two replied... So maybe it's time to explain to us who we really are.

You two, H.I.M began.

You're not just simple entities or humans. No, you're spirit powers like the others who waited for you before telling the truth.

The others? That means we're not the only ones with spirit powers (kwami).

And no, there are only a dozen of you created from my emotions.

That's why I can appear cold and emotionless; it's because I've suppressed my emotions. It was useless for my first period.

Get the most neutral possible.

Wait, so that means all his spirits and the two of us...

Yes, you're part of me. More like my emotions.

Both of them are silent. How was that possible? They were just entities he'd created. Not part of him.

You still don't believe me, and there's no point in lying to me.

SO PROVE IT TO US, said Hareerious, now angry, because now his whole life would be forever changed if it turned out to be true.

Why? You can remember everything and pretend to be me even if you don't want to or without meaning to.

Hareerious froze. He knew he could have just as easily pretended to be him because when he came to see what was happening in the main timeline.

Marinette was almost immediately able to tell 100% that it was H.I.M., despite the fact that it wasn't H.I.M.

Okay, but what if I'm you? Why let me do everything for you and instead of you?

But it's very simple, it's because I'm very busy with all this work, and don't you finally want to have peace with the whole Chat Blanc drama?

As soon as H.I.M. mentioned Chat Blanc, he got angry.

WHAT DO YOU KNOW? YOU WASN'T THE ONE WHO WAS IMPRISONED BETWEEN THE DIMENSIONS OF HIS AND HIS ME, ALONE, BECAUSE YOU COULD IMMEDIATELY GET OUT OF US WITHOUT ANY PROBLEM.

Calm down, H.I.M. ordered him.

But Hatrious replied with one thing that was one too many.

Pff, at least you can bask in your peaceful world, while you write the events of destiny without anyone telling you what to do.

But that comment just really pisses H.I.M off.

You... YOU THINK IT'S PEACEFUL TO JUST WRITE SCREENPLAYS TO PLEASE EVERYONE.

And she's the one who relayed the biggest news.

THIS ADRIEN LILA LOVES ISN'T EVEN A REAL ONE.

HE'S A CLONE BORN FROM HER TWISTED MIND. THE REAL ADRIEN IS IN JAPAN WITH KAGAMI. IF YOU THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO LEAVE HIM IN THE HANDS OF THAT CRAZY WOMAN...

Y̵O̸U̶'̸R̶E̸ ̸S̸U̶R̴E̶L̴Y̶ ̵V̶E̵R̵Y̶ ̶C̸R̷A̴Z̶Y̵ ̶T̸H̴A̷N̴ ̷S̸H̸E̶ ̶I̸T̴S̶E̴L̵F̵.̷
Wait, wait. So if I understood correctly from the beginning, this Adrien is just a fake, but Lila thinks he's real.

H.I.M. turned around, calmed down, and began to answer.

Yes, if you thought I was going to leave her alone...

You can certainly lie about the fact that I'm someone who always prepares in advance.

But little creatures resembling kwamis started appearing next to H.I.M.

Master Kaedran, are you all right? Vurali asked.

Yes, yes, Kaedran said.

Wait, Vurali, exclaimed Elaris, and why do I have the impression that Vurali and the others are children... NO, IT'S IMPOSIBLE.

Yes, it's possible, my dear, Kaedran said.

So these are my brothers and sisters, she said, before she and Hatreious reverted to their kwami ​​forms.

So, what do we do now?

We'll stick to the simple plans I created.

So, all the kwamis and Kaedrans teleported away.

Chapter Text

She no longer needed a name.

Not for this role.

Marinette, as we had known her, was momentarily fading away.

Now she was eclipsed—not a threat, but a presence.

A living memory of forgotten possibilities.

Neither anger nor revenge: a reminder.

Her steps left no traces.

Her body moved like a silhouette cast by the light of dawn.

And yet, she existed in the space between thoughts, in what others only saw when they looked away.

In Paris, Adrien and Lila were spending a quiet moment in an art gallery. The kind of place Gabriel would have loved—and that Lila was learning to love, especially when she could see Adrien relaxing there.

But that day... something was wrong.

Standing in front of an abstract painting, Adrien frowned.

— “Don’t you think… this painting changes a little when you look away?”

Lila nodded, uncertain.

Then she saw it too.

Not the painting, no.

His reflection in the window next to it.

He was too alone.

Adrien wasn’t standing there.

In the reflection, he was standing… but next to someone else.

Someone she didn’t recognize.

Or rather… someone she didn’t want to recognize.

— “Adrien… do you see that?”

But when she turned around, the illusion was gone.

Later, in a small alley, Lila saw a flash of shadow pass behind them. Adrien stopped.

"Are we being followed?"

She squeezed his hand. "No. It's nothing. It's just... a feeling."

But the feeling persisted.

A look they couldn't identify.

A discreet weight, like a hand on the shoulder of their reality.

During the night, in his room, Adrien dreamed.

A soft voice—familiar, but lost in time—whispered to him:

"Is this really you?

Or have you simply become what was expected of you?"

He woke up in a sweat.

Lila, for her part, saw in a corner of the mirror, for a brief moment, a young woman with clear eyes, looking at her...

Not with hatred.

Not with jealousy.

But with a strange compassion, as if she knew what would soon be taken.

Eclipsed didn't want to break them.

She wanted to wake them up.

And this was only the beginning.

But what neither of them knew was that this mask of pity was simply a temporary charade.

Soon she would be forced to withdraw from this false world.

Chapter Text

The night was calm.

Too calm.

In Paris, the sky remained clear, and even the sounds of the city seemed filtered by an invisible distance.

Lila fell asleep early, easily.

Her face turned toward her window, she thought of Adrien, of their stroll through the gallery, of what they had shared without saying it.

But as soon as her eyes closed...

...the world changed.

A garden.

Floating in a pastel mist.

Tall, almost unreal white roses.

And there, Adrien.

But not as she knew him.

He wore a long coat, with antique accents, and in his eyes shone a deep gentleness, mixed with silent concern.

No embarrassment. No facade.

Just him.

And her... dressed in a deep red she had never worn.

They stood face to face, without a word.

But that said it all.

"Were we here before?" asked Adrien. Lila answered without thinking:

“No. But I remember.”

A sound echoed behind them.

A beating of wings. Slow, deep.

And in the sky, a dark silhouette appeared, wearing a light mask.

A young woman.

Neither angel, nor threat.

Just… there.

She was watching them.

And in her hand, a familiar brooch shone faintly.

Lila wanted to speak.

Adrien wanted to move forward.

But the silhouette raised its hand, slowly.

The scenery cracked… like glass crunching under pressure.

And everything collapsed.

They woke up at the same time, a few streets apart.

Gasping.

Eyes wet.

A single word on their lips:

“She…”

But neither of them really remembered her face.

Only her gaze.

And the bitter taste of a truth they weren't supposed to dream of together.

Chapter Text

Everything seemed peaceful, still.

But Paris, beneath its elegant veneer, was beginning to vibrate with an invisible tension.

Adrien and Lila had noticed a subtle change.

No more shadows. No more silences.

And above all... different akumatized people.

The first arrived at the exit of a museum.

A calm man, wearing a long white coat, was waiting for them on the steps.

His eyes shone with an almost sad glow.

He didn't shout.

He didn't attack.

He simply held up a polished silver mirror, offering it to Adrien.

— "Do you want to see what you're hiding behind your smile, Adrien Agreste?"

Adrien, surprised, stepped back.

Lila instinctively stepped in front of him.

But the man smiled.

— "I mean you no harm." I'm simply... awake. Thanks to her."

Tension mounted.

A shiver ran through her.

The mirror vibrated and briefly projected distorted images:

A Butterfly without hate.

A broken duo.

A Paris without heroes... but filled with silent witnesses.

Adrien approached, daring a glance in the mirror.

For a moment, he saw another himself.

Younger.

Lonelier.

Holding the hand of someone he didn't recognize... but whom he felt he knew.

—"Who sent you?" he finally asked.

—"She didn't ask me anything. She showed me."

Then the man disappeared into a soft light.

No fight.

No violence.

Just a message: "Look carefully."

The second akumatized man appeared in a bookstore Lila often frequented. A woman, dressed in purple veils, walked slowly between the shelves, leaving behind a trail of open books.

Each book displayed a different page...

...scenes from their own lives.

But with altered details.

Too real to be illusions.

—"You've read your chapters, but have you read the ones we tore out?" she said without looking at them.

She walked past them like a wind of memory.

She didn't even stop to fight.

This time, it was Lila who shuddered.

Not from fear.

Misalignment.

Something, somewhere, had shifted.

And it wasn't a threat yet... but a question come to life.

Later, alone on a bench, Adrien murmured:

"These people... they're not like the others. They're not looking for us. They're showing us."

—"But why now? Why us?"

— “Because we may be at the center… of a truth we never chose.

And in the invisible heights of the city,

Eclipsed watched, motionless.

“Look closer.

Who say that? It’s not you I’m judging.

It’s your world.

Your stupid wish make everything worst i finally judging.

And that's how she reached her breaking point.

The mark of hatred had completely corrupted her judgment.

Black and red eyes began to replace Lila's usual ones.

If it's war you want, she whispers, so that the rest will come out as a liberation for her.

IT'S WHAT YOU GET.

Chapter Text

Everything seemed to be working out on the surface.

Adrien adored her.

The media adored her.

Her school projects were progressing wonderfully.

And yet... something was wrong.

Not around her.

Inside her.

It all started with abnormal silences.

Moments when conversations seemed to go in circles.

A teacher repeating the same sentence word for word two days apart.

Friends who didn't react when she mentioned a shared memory.

But above all... the looks.

Those of passersby on the street, who sometimes... lingered too long on her.

As if they recognized her without knowing her.

And in their eyes, there was neither hatred nor admiration.

Just... pity.

One evening, she tried to scroll through old messages on her phone.

She wanted to connect with Marinette again.

But nothing.

Not a word.

Not a trace.

As if this girl... had never existed in this world. The next day, Lila withdrew.

She watched Adrien from afar, at school.

He laughed. He smiled.

But something in that smile seemed patently false, for the first time.

—Or maybe I'm the one who's changed... she thought.

Then she dreamed again.

She was alone in a white room, without walls.

A black piano played by itself in the distance.

And a figure stepped forward.

A young girl, brunette, with deep blue eyes.

Her voice was soft. Too soft.

Almost painful.

—You replaced me. You took away everything I was.

But look what's left when you try to erase everything too hard.

Then the silhouette retreated and disappeared.

Lila woke with a start.

Her heart pounding.

Breathless.

She got up...

...and decided to open a box she'd never noticed in her room.

Inside, a simple photo.

Her, Adrien...

...and Marinette, blurred, between them.

Like a poorly erased shadow.

But then the photo changed to a version with only Marinette and Adrien, with a large crossed-out line highlighted in red, as if to say, "Who wanted you to exist?" she whispered.

And for the first time in a long time,

she's afraid.

Not of an enemy.

Not of losing Adrien.

But of discovering what she had agreed to believe without ever questioning it.

She turned around and saw it for the first time, the entity, but it was only for a microsecond.

It was him. H.I.M.

Then she understood who was responsible.

Not her, not Adrien, not Marinette.

But H.I.M.

Him, that damned dream troublemaker, the one who saw through more than just lies and who amused himself by running endless tests to decipher her 404 questions and answers.

She finally gave in and blew everything up, let it all out. After years of downward spirals, it was really hard on her morale.

I HATE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THE WORLD. YOU WHO THINK YOU'RE SUPERIOR TO ME. I'VE WORKED SO HARD TO GET MYSELF BACK, AND YOU DARE TO ACT AS IF IT'S JUST A MODIFICATION GAME.

I LOVED THAT YOU NEVER FOUND THIS WORLD, THAT YOU NEVER TAKEN AN INTEREST IN IT.

BECAUSE OF YOU, ALL MY DREAMS, AND THEREFORE THOSE OF MY VERSIONS, ARE DIED BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOUR STUPID WILL TO JUSTIFY EVERYTHING WITH JUSTICE, THE SECURITY OF YOUR SO-CALLED PRECIOUS IDEA.

Ẏ̵͕̯̔̆O̷̝̝̻̽Ù̵͉͚̫ ̸̢̲̠͂Ä̸̟̖́R̶͕͙̽̈Ę̵͈̰͆̽ ̶̞̫͑̇̀Ț̷͎̘̑͠H̶̠͔̋͝E̵͍͎̿ ̵̡̭͇̋̈́̽O̸̮̅̋N̷͉̞̥̏̆L̸͍̥͕̃̃Y̶͔̻͎͒̊ ̷̝̙͗̕O̴̮̲͔͘Ņ̵͈͑͜E̵̗͛́͝ ̴̬͊͌͠Ḭ̶̐͛ ̴̛͓͂͜W̷̛̳̌̿Į̶͕̃͘S̵̺͎̀H̷̪̰̾́͠ ̵̣̕Ḯ̵̲͉͂̽ ̶͖͚̦̈́M̷͖̌͜Ä̶̩K̸̠̬̯̊͠͝E̷̪̦͒͝ ̸̪̙͌͠Y̵̡͗͋͘Ŏ̵̮͗̇Ủ̴̦ ̸̜͕͇̌̏D̷͎͈̃͒̕I̸̤̞̤͝͝S̷̭̪̈A̶̦̋P̵̖̯͌͘P̵̧͖̰̔̿È̷̠Á̸͈̂R̸̞̜͖̋ ̶̫̀́F̶̱͕̲̆O̸̧͓̺̚R̶̨͇̕E̸͇̾͝V̶̗̖̈́͝Ě̶͕Ŕ̵̹̆ ̷̫͍͍̇̔F̴̧͙́̑͝R̵̰͙̫̚Ó̵͚̏̄M̸͍̣̹̂ ̴͎̓́T̸̬̍͘ͅȞ̶̲̣͐́ͅI̶̖̓̈S̶̺͂͋ ̴̡̝͔̽R̸͇͘͝Ė̶̳͉͌̇͜À̴͍̯̃͝L̴̪͇̉Ị̶̗͋̓T̴̛͖Y̷̦̺͆͜.̴̧̄̍̉.

It was then that Hatrious's mark took complete possession of her, and only hatred guided her thoughts and desires.

I'M SO GOING TO LOVE SEEING YOU SO POWERLESS WHEN I'M FINISHED MAKING YOU FEEL EVERYTHING YOU'VE MADE ME DO, AND ESPECIALLY SUFFER.

Adrien arrived and recoiled in horror at the sight of his lover half-surrounded by a hateful aura of corruption.

And you're okay, asked Adrien? Lila turned around, the biggest, most terrible smile on her face.

Of course, my love, Lila said in a calm voice.

I finally understood what was the only thing left to depress me before we could finally be happy.

TO DELETE AND GET RID OF HIM FOREVER.

Chapter Text

he Face Behind the Glass

It was hot that morning.

Not because of the sun.

Not because of the summer.

But because something in the air had become heavy, almost electric.

Adrien walked leisurely through the hanging garden where he had promised to meet Lila.

But as he approached, a shiver slowly crept up his spine.

And there—he saw her.

She was frozen.

Her back turned, her gaze lost in space.

But around her... floated a purple veil, almost black.

A living, icy mist, as if made of anger frozen in time.

And it wasn't an akumatization.

No.

It was something else.

Something older. More... personal.

"Lila?" Adrien breathed, his voice trembling.

She turned slowly.

And he took a step back.

For on her face...there was neither pain nor madness.

But a cold lucidity.

A flash of truth, as if she had just torn off a mask she had unknowingly worn for a long time.

"I saw it," she said.

Adrien frowned.

"Seen... what?"

She took a step forward.

Her eyes shone with a burning intensity.

— “Him.”

— “The one who watches everything.

The one who writes… like a cruel child.

The one who decides.”

Adrien felt the ground give way beneath him.

It wasn't Lila's voice.

It was the voice of someone who had just broken through an invisible wall.

— “Are you… are you talking about a dream?” he tried.

— “No,” she replied, unsmiling.

“I'm talking about a ghost.

I'm talking about him… Elaris Thurel.

I saw him, for a second.

Just one.”

She closed her eyes, her fists trembling.

— “And in that second… I understood.

This whole world is fake.

I am a room.

You are a room.

And Marinette… never disappeared.

We (moved) her.”

The mist around her pulsed.

Not like an attack, but like an immense pain overflowing.

— “I'm tired of playing a game whose rules I didn't write…”

Adrien doesn't know what to say.

Everything inside him was screaming to take her in his arms.

But a deeper part… more instinctive… was screaming at him to run away.

So he backed away, gently.

And she let him go.

Later, alone in the garden, Lila looked up at the sky.

A bitter smile on her lips.

— “You want to play with the truth?

Very well.

But me too… I learned to write.”

And for the first time, the air of the world seemed to crack.

Chapter Text

Lila stood alone in a white room.

Not a cell.
Not a dream.
A neutral field.
Too neutral.

Before her, a table.
A notebook.

She sat down.
Her fingers were already trembling, but she forced a smile.
The Mark burned, tattooed deep within her flesh.

She opened the notebook. And poured her illusions into it.

A world without anomalies.
A world without lies.
A world without H.I.M.

Adrien, prisoner of her affection.
She, crowned with an invincible heart.
Marinette, reduced to an erased name.

Every word was a challenge thrown at you.
Every stroke of ink, a weapon raised.

She believed it.
Enough to utter a word.
Ancient. Invented.
Defying logic itself.

The world cracked.
Lines of light burst forth, writhing like raw nerves.
A new reality began to scream its birth.

Lila laughed.
A dry, nervous laugh.
"I won."

But the Mark... pulsed.

A black vein spread across her hand, across her neck, up to her eyes.
Her breath hitched.
Hate gnawed at her insides.

And H.I.M appeared.

Not grandly.
Not with a crashout humor.
Simply there.
Omnipresent.
Inevitable.

"You call that wanting to rewrite?"

I CALL THIS SIMPLE CHILDREN'S DRAWING!

Lila stepped back, the notebook stuck to her fingers like a wound.
But the ink was already liquefying, dripping like black blood.

"No, Lila... you didn't write.
You only spewed your resentment into a book you don't understand."

AT LEAST I DON'T SPIT IT OUT, I EXPERIENCE IT, TRANSFORM IT ON A NEW BASIS.

She gritted her teeth, screamed, clawed at the pages, wanted to tear reality out and impose it by force.

But the more she struggled, the more the Mark burned, tearing at her mind.

"Shut up!" she screamed.
"THIS IS MY WORLD!"

His words began to burst like poison bubbles, dissolving into thin air.

And his laughter—low, patient, sickening—made her tremble more than any violence.

You think you're fighting a war?
But look at you... Lila.

You haven't even made it through your first battle.

The notebook exploded into dust.

Lila fell to her knees, her hands clenched, her gaze wild.

Her illusions were crumbling, and the Mark was consuming her like an invisible flame.

Kneeling, panting, Lila raised her head.

Her eyes, now veined with black, shone with animal anger.

"End of the first battle?" she repeated, her voice breaking.

A dry laugh escaped her throat.

No. You think you can crush me? Then look at me.

The Mark pulsed in her skin, beating like a second heart.

Her hands were shaking, but it was no longer from weakness.

It was fever, a sick, burning strength.

She jumped to her feet.
Not to write.
Not to invent.
To attack.

"YOU!" she screamed.

And she struck.

The air cracked beneath her gesture, as if her poisoned veins had pierced space itself.

Black shards erupted from her fingers, like liquid claws.
They lunged toward H.I.M, tearing at the light, trying to tear you away.

Each blow echoed like a scream.

Each impact tore new scars into the void.

Hate guided her actions, unleashing a violence greater than herself.

But H.I.M… remained motionless.

The claws pierced your shadow without ever reaching her.

They twisted, turned, and came back to strike her.
Each attack scarred her more and more, making her skin darker, her screams higher-pitched.

Why… DON'T YOU DIE?! " she bellowed, foaming at the mouth, her veins bulging, her eyes wild.

Because you're not attacking me, Lila. You're attacking your own reflection.

YOU HAVE ALREADY KILL THE NORTHERN STAR.

She stepped back, but her hands were already covered in blood—her blood.
The Mark of Hate was beating so hard it sounded like war drums.

She faltered, but refused to give in.

Once again, she raised her arms, ready to break completely to reach you.

STOP. Then she saw the black, total nothingness.

When she woke up, she couldn't remember anything except one thing.

H.I.M. was her weakness, but also that he was the one responsible for HATE.

Chapter Text

The rain was falling backwards.

The drops rose toward the sky,
as if even gravity had lost faith in this world.

Paris slept under a veil of gray mist,
a dull, starless evening,
where the streetlights seemed to sigh more than they shone.

Lila observed the city from the glass terrace.

Below, the cars were still moving.

People were laughing, walking, knowing.

But she could already see the cracks.

Beneath every laugh—a tremor.

Beneath every step—the trace of a coming collapse.

She placed her hand against the railing.
The metal vibrated slightly, as if breathing.

"Tomorrow, everything will change," she murmured.

A voice answered, almost inaudible, slipping through the leaves in the wind.

"You said that yesterday too." So you think a simple friend inside you can save you?

Lila didn't move.
She simply closed her eyes,
and in the silence of her mind, images appeared:

Adrien, smiling.
Marinette, hesitant.
Paris, frozen under a burning sky.

She clutched her head.
No. It was just a dream.
A dream that clung too tightly.

Behind her, the door opened.

Adrien, still half asleep, poked his head in.

— "Aren't you asleep?"

— "Not yet."

He came closer, placed a hand on her shoulder.
The touch was gentle. Too gentle.

She shuddered, almost with rejection.

— "Are you still thinking about... all that?" he demanded softly.

— "All that?" »

She laughed, but her laughter rang false.

— "No. I'm watching. I'm waiting."

Adrien looked at her, worried, but said nothing.

I knew it.

Or rather, he felt—without understanding.

When he went back to bed,

Lila was alone again.

She looked up at the sky.

A thin crack crossed the clouds.

A strange filament of light, neither white nor silver—
something in between.

And in that light, a reflection:

her own face, distorted, crowned with a crown of nothingness.

She placed a hand on her chest.
Beneath the skin, the mark burned—the Mark of Hatred.

Its rhythm beat against her heart, stronger, faster.

— You want to go out, don't you?

A smile played on her lips.

— "Me too." »

The wind began to swirl, lifting her hair,

sweeping away the papers, the flowers, the memories.

She took a step forward, on the edge of the void.

Regarding the city.
She dropped a piece of jewelry

— a small pendant in the shape of a ladybug.

It fell slowly.
Very slowly.
Then it stopped, suspended in the air, as if frozen by an invisible hand.

Lila closed her eyes.
A tear fell, then evaporated before reaching the ground.

— "Tomorrow, everything will be perfect again."
Her voice trembled, but her conviction was cold.

— "And if perfection doesn't come by itself... I'll force it."

Behind her, the curtains stirred gently.
In the room, the Miraculouses glowed faintly on the table.
All except one.

The butterfly was already missing.

And in a corner of the mirror,
something moved.
A thin shadow, the outline of a face.

A voice, familiar, ironic:

"So, Lila... ready for your turn?"

She smiled, a little mad, a little divine.

"I'm not playing anymore. Tomorrow, I'll create."

The sky cracked.
A purple flash ripped through the night.

And somewhere, far away,
the world began to scream—

but no one heard it yet.

Because...

NO MORE CHANCE.

Chapter Text

The world was screaming.

No war.

No screams.

Just... a silent howl.

A cold wind blew between the cracked buildings,

the distorted reflections,

the broken mirrors.

Paris was no longer Paris.

Its streets floated in the air like misplaced memories.

The sky was red, then blue, then black, without order.

Faceless statues replaced the people.

Smiles frozen on bodies of glass.

At the top of a tower—

Her.

Lila.

Crowned with light.

Dressed in a silk cloak, embroidered with shadows.

The eyes of the world were fixed on her.

All the spotlights.

All the screens.

All the hearts.

But...

...silence.

No one spoke.

No one celebrated.

For this world...did not exist. Not really.

She opened her eyes.

And everything disappeared.

A breath.

A blink.

She was in her room again.

In the large villa, calm and golden.

The curtains danced gently.

Adrien was asleep, in the next room.

She got up.

Walked barefoot to the mirror.

And looked at herself.

Everything was back to normal.

Her perfect world, repaired.

Except for one thing.

On her nightstand: all the Miraculous.

The Cat's ring.

The Snake's bracelet.

The Bee's comb.

The Turtle's bracelet.

The Monkey's headband.

The Fox's necklace.

The Peacock's brooch.

The Rabbit's pocket watch.

The Mouse's necklace.

The Horse's glasses.

The Dragon's necklace.

And even the Ladybug's earrings.

But not the brooch.

Not the butterfly's.

And in the mirror...

A trace.

A name scrawled in the fog.

K.Y

She stepped back.

Then clenched her fists.

— "You left me everything.

But not the essentials."

— "So I'll find it."

In the shadows of this restored world,

The last piece was still missing.

And somewhere, Marinette held it—without knowing it.

And, Elaris Thurel,

She watched.

Calm.

Patient.

Almost amused.

Finally, a finale worthy of my interest.

Chapter Text

New York.

The city had always been a dream,

a horizon wider than Paris,

where Marinette could finally breathe.

Where she stopped looking over her shoulder.

In the morning, she drew.

In the afternoon, she sewed, in silence, in the studio Audrey Bourgeois had given her.

In the evening, she ate with people who didn't know her.

Not like Ladybug.

Not like the girl who had lost everything.

Just… Marinette.

But there you go.

For three nights, a dream had been recurring.

The same one.

She stood in an endless corridor.

Walls of glass.

And behind the glass, versions of herself—young, old, angry, tearful.

All staring at her, without speaking.

And at the other end of the corridor...

A figure.

Dressed in gold, black, and cold light.

Green eyes, fixed.

And a question hanging in the air:

"Why did you hide from me?"

She always woke up with shortness of breath.

And a name on the lips:

Lila…

That day, Marinette was returning to the workshop after a simple coffee.

But the door vibrated.

A tiny frequency.

Almost imperceptible.

She recognized it immediately.

A miraculous detection field.

Someone had scanned the building.

"It's here…"

She slowly opened an antique sewing box.

Removed a brooch.

Discreet.

Strangely simple.

The Butterfly Brooch, which she had never used…

but which she always kept close to her.

Not to control.

But to listen.

She placed it on her collar.

And all around her, the emotions of the world became audible.

An invisible symphony.

Fears.

Hopes.

But in the distance…

Something abnormal.

A dissonance.

Like a cry muffled in the fabric of reality.

—You really came…

She wasn't Ladybug anymore.

She wasn't Hawk Moth either.

She was the one who looks and understands.

And soon, Lila would discover that the one she was hunting…

was no longer the prey.

Chapter Text

The Hawk Moth brooch resonated in Marinette's hand.

It hadn't called forth emotion.

She hadn't guided an akuma.

But she felt.

Across the ocean, in Paris,

another hand had closed around a black ring.

The Cat ring.

One of the many Miraculouses now worn by Lila.

In a hushed room, surrounded by symbols, memories, and dim lighting,

Lila blinked.

She had just seen a flash.

A shape.

A moment.

A reflection of Marinette, right there, in a mirror that didn't belong to her.

— "You're here..." she whispered.

And without her knowing it, at that precise moment,

Marinette straightened up.

Her gaze fixed on the horizon.

She felt the mental pressure, gentle but insistent.

An attempt at connection.

A look cast across reality.

"You're searching in a world you don't understand."

The thought wasn't sent in words.

But Lila heard it like a chill in the air.

She stepped back. Just a little.

— "So you know..."

But Marinette didn't answer.

She offered her neither provocation nor challenge.

Only a presence.

Steady. Silent.

But this silence wasn't empty.

On that day, without knowing it, they had just created a rift.

An invisible line had been drawn between New York and Paris. A battle beyond the visible,

between the one who observes...

...and the one who accumulates power without knowing its cost.

Around Lila, a few Miraculouses vibrated in response to this counterproductive use.

The dragon's necklace became covered in condensation.

The rabbit's watch moved forward a minute, without intervention.

Even Adrien's ring, which she often kept close to her, darkened with a discreet glow.

The universe was responding.

The balance...was wavering.

And in New York, Marinette closed her eyes.

"You haven't understood anything yet, Lila. And yet, you're getting closer."

Chapter Text

Lila, lying on a velvet sofa, flipped through a magazine without reading a single line.

Her mind was elsewhere, restless, suspended.

Adrien hadn't been quite the same these last few days.

Always gentle, always present... but distracted.

And, worse still, silent when he laughed.

— "He's thinking about her."

The thought sprang up of its own accord, violent.

She pushed it away. No.

Marinette was no longer a problem.

She had left the place, vanished into oblivion.

But then... why did that name still float through Adrien's silences?

The day before, in a moment stolen from the tumult, he had scribbled on a piece of napkin, thinking she couldn't see.

She had seen.

And she had read.

"Why do I feel like I've already experienced this? Marinette." »

A bitter taste of roses rose in her throat.

It wasn't jealousy.

It was a declaration of war that Marinette dared to make against her.

It was older.

Deeper.

Something in the very fabric of her reality seemed to... change.

Then, suddenly, like an icy current, she felt it.

A look.

Distant but familiar.

She straightened up.

"You're here..." she murmured, not really knowing who she was talking to.

But deep down, she already knew.

He was watching her.

The one who was written.

Marinette abruptly closed a sketchbook.

Her fingers were shaking.

Something... or someone... had called her.

Not by voice.

By connection.

A connection so deeply rooted in the history of their city that she couldn't ignore it.

"Adrien..." she whispered.

Yes, Adrien said, turning around, so that his eyes were completely black.

Lila stopped for two seconds and asked.

Why... Why are your eyes so black?

Because, my dear liar, Adrien said in a calm but rather bizarre voice...

YOU'RE JUST AN ANNOMY IN THIS WORLD. YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE EXISTED.

IF YOU HAD NOT MADE THAT WISH, I WOULD BE WITH MY DEAR MARINETTE.

BUT NO, YOU TOOK HER FROM ME. NOW I'M HERE TO RUST YOUR LIFE, YOUR WISH, AND YOUR HAPPINESS, JUST AS MUCH AS YOU AGREE TO LET ME GO.

As for Mainette, even though it wasn't typical of her, she had one of her kinky smiles.

It wasn't nostalgia.

It was a signal.

Something was happening.

And she knew, deep down,

that he was beginning to remember.

The butterfly on her wrist vibrated gently.

Not in response to a cry of pain...

But in reaction to an imminent truth.

Chapter Text

Lila was really scared, what did Adrien say?

Adrien, for his part, remained standing, hands in his pockets, a few steps from the railing. His eyes still as black as the void.

He looked at the horizon.

But it wasn't Paris he saw.

It was something broken.

"You're quiet," Lila said with a soft smile, trying to hide her nervousness.

"And you're such a liar," Adrien replied without humor.

A long, tense silence.

Then:

"Lila. Is... everything we're experiencing right now... is it true?"

She slowly turned her head towards him.

The shock wasn't visible. But she felt her heart race.

"Why are you asking me that?" she asked almost softly.

— "Because I have memories... fragments. And above all, contradictions."

He took a breath and moved closer.

"You, me, this perfect world. People who smile too much. The past too smooth. The missing scars."

Lila stood up slowly and put down her glass. She tried to keep her tone neutral, but it was getting harder and harder.

"You're talking nonsense. You're just stressed. You need to rest."

Adrien moved closer again, and this time, his gaze met hers.

"It's not stress. It's... déjà vu. Too smooth. And above all, I saw you. You were staring into space as if you sensed a presence. And so did I."

She didn't answer.

He whispered,

"You know we're being watched."

Lila took a step back, suddenly a little pale.

But suddenly, the mark of hatred began to pulse even more violently than the first time.

Now Lila's eyes were just purple and black.

A long silence.

Then she spoke softly but filled with venom:

— "Maybe. Maybe everything needs... it needs to be rebuilt.

But what does that change? We're together. I (error). I've always (error) hated you.

It's like my words are starting to get corrupted."

Adrien looked away.

— "I think... I pretended to love you." Because that's how it was written.

And then everything crashed for Lila. Five years of pure planning just so she could have that final situation at the end.

— "LISTEN TO ME,"

She slapped him.

— I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS WHAT'S GOING ON, AND YOU THINK YOU'RE SO ALIVE BECAUSE THE TRUTH IS YOU JUST A COPY OF MY IMAGINATION SIMPLY BECAUSE HIM CAN'T BEAR THE REAL ADRIEN BEING WITH ME.

— "You think I'm not fighting that voice too?! That... shadow?!"

She screamed, broken,

— "You think I haven't seen his eyes?! The eyes of someone who writes and has fun?!"

NO, HE HAS FUN TORMENTING ME BECAUSE HE HATES ME AND ALL MY OTHER VARIANTS."

Adrien backed away.

— You knew that? But what does that have to do with him having fun tormenting you simply because he hates seeing you when you win?

She turned around with a creppy smile. It was now memories from the other timelines that were particularly flooding her head.

How stupid you can be, Adrien Agreste, whether you're real or not.

If he hates me in every way, it's because he's afraid I'll outsmart him, and I've already almost succeeded.

She shows him a window into the burrow, a timeline where she became a goddess known as Vindica Vindico, and she beat the entire Miraculous team known by that name in this timeline, Team Second Chances.

She nodded.

"Not everything. But enough. And now... I can't wait to see him protest in front of me..."

He looked at her. And for the first time, he didn't see Lila, the mistress of the game...

But Lila, the victim of a game bigger than her.

No, she was the bad guy. That was exactly what he'd planned, to bring her down just to get more satisfaction from breaking her even more.

But the distance was already established.

The looks, colder.

The bond, damaged.

Because a truth told is a machine that can no longer be stopped.

Chapter Text

he calm was illusory.

The terrace was silent, but full of tension.

Adrien looked at Lila, his gaze hardened by weeks of repressed doubts.

Lila, for her part, felt that gaze like a vice.

— "Lila... You lied to me. Again."

She looked away. No response.

— "Why? Why did you hide from me what you knew about the akumas? And about... her? ABOUT EVERYTHING."

She clenched her fists. The anxiety, the fear of losing everything, the rage at being watched...

It all came back.

She replied curtly:

— "Because you refuse to see what I'm doing for us! You always look the other way!"

YOU SEE ME AS IF I'M ALWAYS THE MAIN VERSION, BUT THERE ARE VERSION WHERE I'M NICE OR EVEN IT'S MARINETTE AND ME.

BUT YOU DON'T SEE I LOVE ALL THAT.

The sky began to rain, thunder began to rumble.

Lilla's madness was reflected in the weather.

But strangely, Adrien remained calm, as if all her provocations were futile to him.

— "No, Lila. I'm finally seeing things as they are."

He took a step back.

She took a step forward.

— "You're nothing but a coward, Adrien!"

And the gesture was made.

Not a slap.

AN ATTACK.

Seeing Adrien thrown against the wall, Lila had now succumbed to sadness.

Her body transformed into a black, empty, and hideous version of herself.

But the shock resonated louder than any scream.

The silence was absolute.

Adrien didn't scream. Didn't react.

He stood there, his cheek red, his heart broken.

He took a step back. Then another.

His eyes no longer expressed any love, any desire to understand.

— "No, Lila. That's it... you've crossed the line."

At his words, Lila became normal and human again, but it was already too late.

The damage was already done.

She tried to approach, panicked, her hands outstretched:

— "Adrien, I... I'm sorry!" I didn't mean to..."

He cut her off with a look. "You didn't lose me because you slapped me, Lila.

You lost me because you wanted to. For a long time."

He turned on his heel and slammed the door.

She stood there, alone, frozen by the reality she had just created.

And far above them... a silent presence watched them.

A stroke of the pen abruptly stopped.

"It wasn't written like that. But whatever."

Then she spoke to H.I.M., oddly enough, in a super-calm but ultra-corrupted voice.

f̷̬̈́ ̴̦́y̸̝͐o̵̘͒ü̴͕ ̷̠̿ț̴̉h̴̝̆ĭ̶̥n̷̞̔ḱ̵̹ ̷̧͋y̵͉̓ő̸͈ȕ̶̝ ̴̤̈́c̴̞̈́a̵̳̚n̶̞̎ ̵̡̈́d̷̟̆e̷͚̓f̵̻̑e̶̦̚a̶̹͋t̴̺̏ ̵͓̈́m̸̢̛e̴̤̾,̷͂͜ ̸̝̿b̶̯̑e̷͍͆ ̴̦̎t̶̫̔h̶̳̀a̶̝͋t̵̟̃ ̸̹̓y̴̡̽ŏ̴͚ǘ̵̻,̴̘͝ ̶͉͌a̵̘̐n̸͈̍d̸̩́ ̶̝̂i̴̼̇f̵̗̄ ̸̲͒y̶̹͠ō̴͓u̸̻̐ ̷̭̆d̶̫̑ĕ̶͜s̵̲͝p̴̹̐a̴̞͌ȋ̷̻ŕ̸͜,̶̧͒ ̶͈̿b̶̠́e̶̙̊ ̴̩̐t̷͆͜h̷̡͝a̸͚͑t̸̯̒ ̵̠̚I̶̡͠'̸͔̐ṿ̸̅ḛ̵͝ ̸̺̒a̸͔͝ľ̵̥r̴͎͂e̶̡͗ä̵͓́d̴̩́y̷̟͛ ̵͈́w̵͈͌ŏ̴̢n̷̼͌.̵̖̈́

̸̝̉I̶̧͌ ̴̪̂n̸̘̐o̷͓͊ ̷̦͐ľ̷͙ő̴̦n̴͈̉g̸̖̅e̵̬̽r̶͚̉ ̶̗̉n̴̦̈́ê̶̗e̸͕͘d̴̞̾ ̶̖̃A̷̙̚d̴͙́ř̶̙ỉ̵̙é̵͓n̴̼͠,̵͓̈́ ̸̟̚t̸̡̽h̴̯̏é̶͎ ̴̻̌k̷͍̂w̶̥̕ạ̷̑ḿ̴̪i̶͉̋s̴̟̀,̸͚͂ ̴̼́o̴̼̎r̷̳̈́ ̶̳͆y̸̳͂ơ̶̩ủ̵̝.̴̲̉ ̴͎̐Ó̸̘n̶͆͜l̴̯̓y̶̱͝ ̶̹̂Ĭ̴̩ ̵̜̋c̵̱̀a̵̗͊n̴̯̍ ̶̤͝ḅ̶̈́ë̸̩a̷̫̔t̶̡̆ ̵̣͘y̷̛̫o̵͉͝u̷͉͗.̶̙͠

̵͈̽I̴̦͌f̶̗̊ ̵͎̋ṃ̷̈́ỳ̷̜ ̷̖̂ć̴͕ḁ̴̓n̵̩͋o̷͙̓ņ̴̾ ̴̞̋ṿ̵̏é̷̗r̵̘̿š̸͔ị̶̇ȍ̶̻n̶̝̿ ̵̛͈h̴͓͑ả̵̦s̷̖͑ ̷̰̽ä̴͎́l̸̥̀r̷̘̍é̷̝a̴̳̓d̸͕͊y̷͇̑ ̷̻̌m̸̻̊a̶͍͝n̴̘͆ã̸̩g̶̩̕ȇ̷̟d̶͙͗ ̶̣̕ť̴͔o̶̳̽ ̶͚͊r̶̖̎e̴̮̎å̷͚c̴̭͘h̵̨̅ ̵̛͈t̷͚̕h̷̙̓e̴̡̛ ̴̻́ǫ̷͌n̸̝͋l̵̯̃y̷͌͜ ̸̞́t̵̹͝h̴̘̎i̸̟͛n̸͔̆g̴̻̅ ̴̯̎y̵̳̾ȍ̴͚ȕ̵̻ ̶͇̇ḧ̶̤́o̶̝̎l̵̦͝d̴̪̆ ̶͉͑o̶̦̅n̴̩͂ ̶̱̋t̷̢̒ȏ̵̺,̴̤͐ ̸̠͐ṣ̵͝u̷̯̒p̵͖̈́p̶͔͝o̵͔̍s̸̢͂e̴͓͗d̸̝̿l̷͖͐y̸̞̕ ̷̖̋y̶͝ͅo̶̟̅u̷̹͒r̸̻͑ ̶͉͆ǫ̴͌w̶͚̔n̸͉͗ ̴͚͘w̴̥̕o̸͇͂r̷̬̔l̶̡̃d̸̎ͅ,̶̮͊ ̷̘̈́t̴͎͌h̷̝̔e̶̪̊n̷̗͐ ̵̼͐I̵̦̍ ̸͎̿c̸̺͌å̶̼n̷͜͠ ̶̜͒d̶̝̀ő̶̲ ̵̟̎ǐ̷̝t̶͙͐ ̶̜̿t̸̯̓ö̴̜o̸̬͆,̸̭͒ ̴͉̔a̸̖̿n̴̙̓d̷̜́ ̸͈̈́I̶̼͑'̷̼̈m̸͈͛ ̶̖̅s̴̱̀u̶͉̓r̵͚̓e̵̜̋ ̴͙̐Ĭ̸̪'̵̛̳l̷̜̎l̷͎̆ ̸͎̽s̶͖̑ȅ̶͚e̸̚͜ ̷̪͒i̶̝̽t̸̛͈.̵̹̃

Let them learn the whole ending she was savoring... before she deserves a possible return.

Chapter Text

Night fell. Paris was asleep, but Lila's mind still burned.

She relived the scene. Again. And again.

The snap.

Adrien's gauze.

His silence.

And that return, repeating itself over and over again.

She was alone in her room, the curtains drawn, her hands trembling.

But... she wasn't quite there.

A whisper escaped the silence.

"It wasn't the world that betrayed you. It was you."

She jumped and sat up.

"Who's there?!"

A cold shudder ran through the room.

The shadows moved... or seemed to move.

Then a half-invisible figure, like a reflection in a dream, appeared in a corner of the room.

Not scary. Just... unstoppable.

"I'm just a spectator, Lila. An attentive reader. A disillusioned author."

"You... you don't exist!"

"Oh, maybe I don't exist for you. But I've been there from the beginning.

AND EVEN MORE THAN ANYTHING YOU'VE DONE.

In every lie you've told.

In every scene you've tried to control.

In every time you thought loving meant possessing."

She fell to her knees, unable to meet that ghostly gaze.

—"What do you want from me?! For me to apologize?! For me to repent?!"

"What I want doesn't matter. What I want is for you to suffer.

What you deserve, however... is to look yourself in the eye."

You took a step toward her, and the scenery seemed to crack around her.

The room, the walls, her reality—everything vibrated.

Not because you were attacking… but because she, finally, saw.

It wasn't Adrien who abandoned you. It's your own story that's crumbling.

You wanted it all, Lila. Love. Glory. Control.

And now? You have nothing left… except the pain you sowed.

Finally, silence. Then you walked away, without a word.

And Lila stood there, in the darkness.

Not destroyed. Not yet.

But broken. Finally.

Chapter Text

The rain was falling on the rooftops of Paris.

Lila stood under a cornice, alone.

Her eyes still burned, but no tears came.

She never cried for long. It wasn't in her nature.

You appear silently.

Not with a flash, nor with a crash.

Just... there. As if you were still there.

She didn't even look at you.

— "Have you come back to judge me?"

"No. To talk to you. One last time, maybe."

She gave a bitter laugh.

— "I've lost everything. I don't even need your judgment anymore."

He approaches slowly. Then you sat down next to her, as if you were simply human.

"I'm going to tell you a secret. Something no one has ever told you."

She finally turned her head.

"And it's supposed to help me?"

"It's not supposed to do anything. But you should hear it."

You paused, then said to her, with icy neutrality:

"There is no official reality in any stable version of the world where you and Adrien are truly a happy couple.

There is not a single timeline—not a single one—where you survive your own illusion."

She remained frozen.

"That's not true... you're lying. You just want to crush me."

"You think I need to lie to crush you? Look at you.

You fought for a dream that never existed. You shaped it, sculpted it, imposed it.

" But you never looked to see if he truly shared it."

"He followed you. Maybe. Out of fatigue, emptiness, hurt.

But love? It can't exist when one of you is trapped."

She lowered her eyes, but you continued.

"You can hate me. You can scream. You can accuse me of manipulating everything.

But the truth, Lila, is that you told yourself your own lie...

...and no one else ever really believed it."

Silence.

A long silence.

And then she breathed:

"Then why are you telling me all this? Why now?"

You look at her. For a long time.

"Because despite everything... you still have a chance to choose something else.

But you're going to have to look at this ruin you've built... and decide if you want to live in it or get out of it." »

And with that, you walked away.

Not like an executioner.

But like the echo of a truth impossible to erase.

Lila remained motionless. Then, slowly, she stood up.

— "Nonsense..."

Her voice trembled, but she spoke louder—to cover what she felt breaking inside.

— "This world is real. Adrien is mine. I fought for this.

It's not a lie."

She began to walk down the street, her fists clenched. Every raindrop on her face was a splinter.

She saw images again—memories, Adrien's gestures.

But now, certain details seemed more... blurred.

His gaze, sometimes absent.

His smiles, too polite.

The silences.

— "You're the one who messed everything up... You want to steal what I've earned." »

She stopped in front of a window, saw her reflection: soaked, exhausted, but still standing.

The reflection... moved a little too late.

She blinked. The reflection settled back into place.

— "You want me to doubt, huh? To collapse?"

A broken laugh escaped her throat.

— "Too late. I built this world. And if something's wrong... it's because someone wants to steal it from me."

She took a notebook out of her pocket.

An old notebook she kept hidden even from Adrien.

Inside, plans. Names. Alliance diagrams.

She wrote in capital letters in the center of a blank page:

OBSERVER

ELARIS THUREL

Then, underneath:

You showed me your game.

Now watch me turn the board over.

She tore out the page and held it in her hand.

And for the first time in a long time, Lila Rossi smiled.

Not a joyful smile.

A warlike smile.

Chapter Text

Lila opened her eyes.

The silence was perfect.

Not the silence of emptiness, but the silence of memory.

Around her, the water of a swimming pool stretched out like a mirror.

The sky was unrealistically blue, the sun suspended in a strange stillness, like paint incapable of melting.

And there, a few meters away: Adrien.

Smiling. Calm.

Her wet hair, her eyes shining with softness.

He swam towards her, without any tension, as if they had always been there. Together.

"You look lost," he said softly, leaning against the edge.

"I was just thinking about... us," she replied, without knowing why.

He reached out his hand. She caught it.

The water between them was warm, peaceful.

A moment so simple it was becoming suspicious.

Lila turned her head. A shadow, on the tiles.

A reflection... but not hers. Not Adrien's either.

Someone was watching.

Someone who wasn't there.

She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again.

Adrien had disappeared.

She was alone in the pool.

The sky had grown darker.

The water was cold now.

And on the edge... a silhouette.

Not Elaris. Not Marinette. Herself. A paler, emptier version of herself. With a cold smile.

— "It wasn't real, Lila. Nothing ever was."

She sat up suddenly.

In her bed.

Drenched in sweat.

The dream had faded like a mirage.

But the emotion remained.

Adrien.

The pool.

The touch of his hand.

And that voice.

That certainty that someone was still watching her. Judging her.

She stood up, her legs flexing.

— "You want to erase me with my own memories? Do you think I don't know what you're doing?" she whispered, her fists shaking.

She wasn't just afraid anymore.

She was determined.

Chapter Text

There were nights when Marinette didn't really sleep. Nights when the New York sky seemed too full of stars. Too messy.

Lying in the darkness, her eyes open, she suddenly felt a cold creep down the back of her neck, like an ancient shiver.

Something vibrated at the edge of her consciousness.

And then...

An image.

A mirror of water.

A boy in a pool.

The touch of hands.

And... a voice. A voice that wasn't hers, nor Lila's, nor Elaris's.

"Adrien...?"

The name escaped her lips without her meaning to.

She sat up abruptly in bed.

What she had seen wasn't a dream. It was an echo.

A kind of emotional reverberation, as if a thread had briefly reconnected between her and... him. But what troubled her most wasn't Lila's image.

It was Adrien's gaze in that dream.

She had seen it before.

A loving gaze, sincere, fragile.

It wasn't a lie.

And that was what hurt her the most.

Because that gaze...

...was the same one she had seen once, in another reality.

When Adrien had been Chat Blanc.

When love had destroyed everything.

She placed a hand against her chest.

"This bond should never have survived..."

But it was still there.

It pulsed, faintly.

And it was calling to her.

Marinette stood up, putting on a jacket.

She went out onto the roof of the building, letting the wind gently slap her face.

Below, New York stretched out like a luminous labyrinth.

And, somewhere, Lila was still dreaming.

And, somewhere, Adrien... perhaps wasn't dreaming at all anymore.

She looked at the sky.

— "I let you go for your happiness... but it's not up to her to decide what the truth is."

Her gaze hardened.

Her hand brushed against the Butterfly brooch.

Not to create. Not to control.

Just to understand.

Chapter Text

he night had been long.

Adrien had gone to bed without speaking. Lila, increasingly nervous by nature, had filled the space with words, smiles, gentle gestures.

But there was no more room.

No longer in his head.

No longer in his heart.

He fell asleep with a strange weight on his chest—a feeling that something, somewhere, was wrong.

And in his sleep...

He dreamed.

They were on a rooftop, somewhere in Paris.

She was laughing.

She was running.

Her eyes shone as if they contained the entire night.

—Marinette?

He had never seen this place.

He had never experienced this scene.

But he knew…

…that he loved her.

And so did she.

They were holding hands.

He was wearing his old Cat Noir costume.

She was wearing Ladybug's red.

But it wasn't a fight.

It was a moment of peace.

A stolen moment.

A moment that had never existed,

and yet seemed more real than a thousand other memories.

—"Adrien… you have the right to be free."

Marinette's voice resonated, soft and deep.

As if she wanted to wake him.

And suddenly, a vibration. A tear.

Something in the dream broke.

Lila.

She appeared like a shadow on the roof, without a costume, without a mask.

But her eyes were staring at him. No anger. No fear.

Panic.

—He's dreaming of her.

—He's starting to remember.

Adrien woke with a start.

Breathless.

Heart pounding.

He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Not even the one he truly loved.

He whispered,

"Marinette..."

And for the first time, he felt that this name wasn't a memory,

but a part of him that had been torn away.