With Hawkmoth defeated and Emilie returned to them, one might think that our heroes' lives might return to normal. But six years later they find themselves facing a far darker foe.
The knock at the front door woke the entire household. It was in the early hours of the morning that all five members of the Kurtzberg family trundled out of their rooms to the entrance of their home. Nathanael’s father threw open the door just as Nino’s hand raised to knock again.
“What?!” the older man screamed. “Do you know what fucking time it is?”
“S-sorry, sir,” Nino managed to utter, glancing behind the man. His eyes landed on his ginger friend, short and obvious towards the back of the group. “I need to talk to Nath. Like, now. Seriously.”
His expression was grave, despite the aggressive man looming over him and reeking of stale alcohol. He only realised then that he should have been more careful about getting Nathanael’s attention. Shit.
As the man opened his mouth to scream at Nino again, Nathanael spoke up, diverting his attention.
“Sorry, Dad. I…” he started. “We’re going. I… I’ll stay at Nino’s tonight, don’t worry about me,” then he sprinted to his room for a coat and his phone. Seconds later he was squeezing his way through his family and outside to Nino, when the door was promptly slammed behind him. Nathanael cringed at the noise.
“Sorry, dude,” Nino said, dejected and looking at the ground. He scuffed his shoe against the concrete step.
“It’s okay,” Nathanael replied softly and tugged his friend away from the house, away from the slightly warm hearth and only the bitterly cold streets. “He would’ve found something else to yell about soon anyway.”
The two walked aimlessly, dawdling along the street in silence. Each breath was visible in the freezing air and the cold bit into Nathanael’s pyjamas. Some nights were like these. One would turn up at the other’s and with no explanation needed, they’d wander for hours. Eventually the problem arose and they spoke, but before then the quietness of night and the company of a close friend was all that was needed.
Tonight seemed a little different though. After roughly an hour or more of aimlessness, the city clock chiming to let them know, Nino’s steps gained a purpose. He lead Nathanael wordlessly through the city, mostly through oddly placed back streets and around endless corners, as if he didn’t want anyone following them. They circled a block of shops before Nino slipped down one last alley and let them inside.
What was strange to Nathanael was that Nino had a key. It wasn’t just a normal key; it was old brass that slid into the keyhole noisily before the door creaked open.
“Where are we, Nino?” Nathanael asked curiously, letting his eyes adjust to the dark before peering around. The room they were in seemed to be filled with bottles and bottles, Asian lettered labels marked the shelves in an order that Nathanael couldn’t understand. Nino lead him out and into a room, a springy floor beneath his feet and mostly bare.
Nino finally flicked on a light, though Nathanael didn’t know how as he was standing right next to the brunet. The room was flooded with light and it took several moments to blink the blindness from his eyes.
The room was home to Chinese paper screens, cutting the room in half, and a small table that sat only inches from the bamboo floor.
“My pa’s place,” Nino answered. He left Nathanael where he stood and went to a tiny stove which he lit and started heating water. “Well, he was my God father. Not my actual pa.”
“I didn’t know you had one,” Nathanael replied, frowning ever so slightly at this new information. It wasn’t like Nino to keep secrets.
“Sorry, dude. There’s a lot you don’t know actually,” Nino revealed. Moments later he was moving to sit cross-legged on a cushion at the table.
Nathanael stayed quiet as he joined his friend. Nino would talk in his own time, Nath knew that.
The water boiled before Nino resumed talking. He brought a large teapot to the table and sat back down as it brewed. Nathanael watched the steam rise.
“Hawkmoth’s dead,” Nino stated flatly several minutes later. His voice snapped Nathanael out of his own mind and confusing marred his features.
“Hawkmoth. He’s dead. Kinda,” Nino explained. “Dead usually means there’s a body, eh? Nah, he’s just… nothing. He’s nothing now. I watched him turn into nothing.”
Nathanael couldn’t answer. His lips hung open in a sort of numb acknowledgment.
“And my pa. Fu, his name was Fu. He’s dead too,” Nino continued, starting to ramble because everything in his mind was still jumbled up, despite the event happening days ago. Nino still hadn’t come to terms with it all.
“Hold up,” Nathanael cut in. “Your God father was Hawkmoth?”
“No, no, dude,” Nino quickly stopped him. “Adrien’s pa was Hawkmoth. Which is honestly the biggest twist of the century!”
“So, two people are dead?” Nathanael asked, piecing small things together very haphazardly. “Adrien’s dad and your God father? Were they working together or…? Maybe you should start at the start, Ni.”
Nino sucked in a breath between his teeth as he tried to mentally retrace all the way back to the beginning of the entire mess. He lifted the teapot, now brewed, with shaky hands and Nathanael had to take over before Nino spilt the tea all over the table.
“Okay,” Nino uttered as he watched the tea stream from pot to his Hello Kitty mug which seemed oddly out of place in the Chinese styled room.
“So, Chat Noir got abducted, remember that?” Nino started slowly. “Yeah, anyway, turns out he was living with Hawkmoth all this time, and Hawkmoth found out who he was…”
~Alya was the first to find out. It was an email that she nearly overlooked, disregarding it as spam until she noticed the attachments. There was an array of images shakily taken, as well as a video that Alya was wary to click on. But she did, and she was greeted with something worse than she dared to have imagined.
Adrien Agreste lay slumped against a handrail in a room lit only by afternoon sun, handcuffed by one wrist to a metal rung. Behind him was a glass chamber, over grown with moss and ivy. But what Alya focused on was that the video was being shot in selfie mode, curtesy of one incredibly evil butterfly.
“Greetings, Miss Césaire,” the villain crooned, a smirk covering what little of his face the mask didn’t hide.
“As you can see, I have your young friend here. Now, I don’t want anything bad to happen to him, but you must understand, Miss Césaire. I need his miraculous and he refuses to renounce it. He’s left me with little choice.”
The video shook as Hawkmoth reangled the camera. Adrien filled the screen. He weakly looked up at his captor, then straight into the lens. His lips moved wordlessly before he slumped again with a painful gasp.
“I need you to show this to Ladybug. You’ll do that for me, won’t you? If you don’t I’m afraid Chat Noir won’t last the night. When Ladybug makes her plans, reply to this email. Don’t bother trying to trace it, you’ll only waste the cat’s time,” Hawkmoth added with a scoff.
“The police will be useless, by the way. I have magic they could never fathom. And be sure Ladybug hands over her miraculous, or the world can say ‘bye bye, pretty kitty.’”~
Read the ongoing fanfic on AO3
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