Warning. Blood. That is all.
Adrien
He followed the sound of explosions, landing on top of one of the sphinxes guarding the Fontaine du Palmier. He had always loved this foutain and everything it stood for. His gaze traveled across the square to the bridge where a lone figure stood. Flames flickered behind them, cloaking their face in darkness. He jumped down, making his way through the small patch of trees to the road of the bridge. There he could see who it was. Night owl.
"Well, you're a long way from the nest."
"Where is William?"
Grant? Why was she looking for Grant?
"I know you know where he is. He told me so. Bring me that villain, so he can be punished for his crimes."
She shouted, the masculine voice her suit made ringing through the air.
"Sorry, no can do. I hear he's pretty busy at the moment, but owl let you know when he's available."
His pun seemed to anger her, because she threw something in his direction. His staff immediately blocked the blow, but he stared at the spot where it had hit his weapon. She had thrown a triblade dagger, and it was currently lodged in his baton. No blade should have been able to pierce the metal like that. He glanced up at Nightowl, just as an explosive at the other end of the bridge went off. The bridge started to crumble, and she took flight, staring down at him.
"Those who protect criminals are just as guilty as those who committed the crime."
In the darkness he could see small metal orbs forming around her, and all at once they began raining down. He backpedaled, before turning and sprinting back towards the cover of the trees. Whatever those things were, he already knew his baton wouldn't protect him from them. He could hear the sound of them hitting the street, as soon as the metallic clank was heard the night was illuminated. Explosions all around him, one close enough that metal shards flew at his feet. Pain spiraled from his calf, and he tripped, landing hard against the pavement. He rolled onto his side, reaching down to his leg. A silver shard was lodged there, blood seeping from the edges of the wound. Nothing had ever ripped his suit before. Nothing had ever broken through to his skin. He pulled the shard out and forced himself to get up, suddenly worried about Plagg. If it had pierced through the suit, was Plagg okay? Was he injured?
"Tell me where William is, and I'll spare your life."
Night owl landed behind him, and he turned, looking at her. Had Grant blackmailed her? Was that why she was so angry?
"You know I can't do that. You aren't an executioner, this isn't you."
"Justice has fallen. Criminals run free, and spilled blood taints the earth, I'm going to bring justice back. I'm going to strike fear in their hearts. I'm going to make the world a better place."
She growled, and another one of those orbs formed, flying right at him. They were so close he couldn't dodge, so he extended his staff, striking the object in an attempt to pass it back to her. It exploded on impact, sending shrapnel flying around them. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as well as his chest, and he fought not to cry out in pain, to not show any weakness. Nightowl touched her shoulder, and he realized that some had hit her as well, and had gone through her armor. Blood crept out of the hole in her suit, and she snapped her fingers, the orbs turning into those triblade daggers. At least he knew her suit wasn't indestructible. Her own weapon had burrowed through it. He needed distance between them though, enough to formulate a plan. With Ladybug gone, he had no choice but to save his Cataclysm for the butterfly. He extended his baton quickly, striking Nightowl directly in the chest. As she flew back the daggers flew forward. He ducked, missing most of them. One however, was aimed a little lower than the others, and he felt it graze against his ribcage, pain seizing his chest. He quickly extended the baton, pushing back towards the park, where there was the cover of trees.
"You can't hide from me alley cat! Don't you know owls can see in the dark?"
Her voice was taunting, and he ignored it, ducking behind one of the trees. He touched his side, his glove coming back covered in crimson. It was dripping down his suit, and the smell of iron filled the air. He wouldn't be able to fix that.
"Criminals don't deserve the kind of power you have. The kind of power that kills people. Forfit your miraculous now, and I won't have to destroy you."
He flinched, his mind immediately wandering back to New York, where he had almost killed that girl. It had been an accident. He was young then, and he wasn't perfect. Ladybug had been angry with him that day, and he had been distracted. He didn't reward her with a reply, as to not give his location away. Though it wouldn't be long before she found him. The square was small, and it didn't offer many hiding places. He tried to think of a plan. Like Ladybug would have. He was almost relieved that she wasn't there, because this acuma was overpowered. It could actually hurt them. He closed his eyes, trying to think of something, anything to get himself out of this. His mind kept wandering, focusing instead on the pain rippling through his body. He had a mild pain tolerance, but this was too much. Too many wounds, in too many places. He felt someone grab the front of his suit, lifting him off the ground.
"None can hide from the eyes of justice."
"Funny, seeing as how you can't seem to find William."
He bit back, extending his baton again. It smacked into her jaw, throwing her head back. It was enough to get out of her grip, and he stepped around her, slamming the sole of his boot into her back, sending her flying into the tree trunk. She whirled her head around, the faint glow of a purple mask covering her face. The glow that meant hawkmoth was talking.
"Give me your miraculous!"
He smiled, despite the pain.
"Come get it yourself coward."
A dagger spun into existence by her head, skyrocketing towards him. He tried to swing his baton in the way, but he hadn't been fast enough. It only caught the edge of the blade, slowing it's pace some. It struck his chest, and in the exhale of breath, he felt his bone grating against the blade. Tears welled in his eyes, and he couldn't bring himself to make a sound, stumbling back. Every movement ached, the blade twisting with each breath he took. Sharp pain spiraled through his chest, making him cough. He wasn't going to come back from that. He used his baton, crying out as it pulled on his muscles, sending him up into the night sky. He free fell, his feet skidding in the gravel on a nearby rooftop. Everything was slick with rain, making it hard to keep his footing. He coughed again, blood tainting the taste in his mouth. He wasn't going to make it in this fight much longer. Not with no plan, with no way to protect himself. His suit was practically nothing but spandex now, and in a fight with actual weapons, it was useless. Something had to be wrong. Plagg was probably in pain. In his own pain, he hadn't realized where his feet had been taking him. He looked in front of him, his gaze landing on the mansion. His home, his prison. It was ironic. Going there to die, when he had tried so hard to avoid the place for so long. But it was his only option. He couldn't go to Ladybug. She was gone, probably forever. And Marinette... well Marinette didn't want him. Even if she did, he wouldn't go to her. He didn't want to die in front of her. Not like this. Not a bleeding mess, not crying and not coughing up blood. He headed straight for his bedroom window, which he knew was unlocked. He leapt across the street, precariously balancing on his baton to push the window open.
"You can't run from me!"
A shrill scream sounded behind him, and he turned his head, in time to see Nightowl strike him, sending them both flying into his bedroom, shattering the window. The glass didn't cut him, surprisingly. It meant his suit wasn't malfunctioning, that whatever weapons she had was what was destroying the suit. What could destroy a magic like that? He was immediately picked up and thrown again, landing on the second floor, his back slamming into the bookshelf. Books rained down on top of him, and his arms shook with the strength it took to push himself up off of the ground. The blade was still trapped between his ribs, and blood dripped from his mouth, splattering on the books beneath him. He hated himself for the tears in his eyes, for the fear that was beginning to encompass him. Death had never been a worry for Adrien. It had always been something that happened to others, not him. Not with Plagg. His mind danced to Marinette, seeing her in flashes. From the very beginning. Her grins, her stutters. Catching her in his arms. All of it pieced together like a movie in his head, all within a few seconds. If he died tonight, the one night she gave up her miraculous, she would blame herself. He forced himself to stand, leaning heavily against the bookshelf. He silently begged Plagg to give him strength somehow, he had to keep fighting. For Marinette. For himself. He couldn't die like this. Not at the hands of hawkmoth, not in this god awful place. None of this felt right. Because heros were supposed to prevail. They were supposed to obliterate the villan. Perhaps that's where he had screwed up. Maybe he had never really been a hero to begin with.
Gabriel Agreste/ Hawkmoth
"Kill him."
He snapped, watching the scene unfold through the acuma's eyes. Everything he had been working towards, all of the time dedicated to this, it was all coming to an end. Chat Noir could barely stand, and the blood that dripped from his wounds only served as encouragement. It was finally time to put all of this behind him. But, he wanted the cat to pay. He wanted his dying breath. He wanted the make believe hero to pay, for keeping him from his wife for so long. He deserved to die like this, bloody and pleading.
"He's just a kid."
He could hear the acuma say, but it didn't matter. They were past that. This boy, and his Ladybug had kept him from Emilie for far too long. They both deserved to die.
"Kill him."
He repeated, almost tempted to go upstairs and do it himself. But he had to wait. Ladybug would be there soon enough. He watched the acuma pick up Chat Noir by his throat, holding him up against the bookshelf. He could practically feel it in his hands when the acuma squeezed, and the glee he felt was overwhelming. It was finally over. Chat Noir barely had the strength to squirm, weakly trying to pry the hand from around his throat.
"Finish it."
"I can't!"
The acuma cried, and he took a breath, he had to remember the rules. He couldn't push the acuma too far, or it could deevilize itself. He couldn't lose his strongest player. Not when they were so close.
"Take the ring."
"Cataclysm."
Chat ground the word out, and hawkmoth let out a strangled shout. How many times would that cat pull that same trick? How many times? He closed his eyes, before sighing.
"Make him use it on something. Make him touch something."
He opened his eyes to watch, the acuma seizing the hero's wrist, pushing his palm towards his chest.
"Please."
Chat Noir whispered, his voice as broken as his body. He twisted his hand, trying to touch the acuma. He had never seen the cat so desperate, to willingly turn his cataclysm on someone else, someone who was as much a victim as he. The acuma responded with fear, releasing Chat's wrist. Chat swung his hand back, touching the bookshelf. It crumbled around them, filling the room with dust. Chat managed to escape the grasp of the acuma, but it wouldn't matter. The cat was weak. He couldn't get far.
"Find him. Or you'll never get revenge on William."
The acuma growled in response, searching around in the rubble blindly. She found him again once some of the dust had settled. Chat Noir was on the ground, propped up against the wall. He was going to die, and Gabriel knew it. There was no sense in beating a dead horse. He just needed the miraculous, and then Chat Noir could die in peace.
"Get the ring."
The acuma started forward, and Chat Noir held his arm behind his back, a feeble attempt to protect the ring he held so dearly. The acuma ripped him from the wall, tossing him onto the floor. He coughed, blood splattering into the air. Gabriel almost felt pity for him, they had spent years battling one another, and it was almost painful to let go. But it was time. This was the acuma to end all others.
"The ring."
He repeated, and the acuma picked up Chat Noir's limp arm, slipping the ring from his finger.