Chapter Text
Marinette pressed her lips together as she stared at the old man, her great-uncle, Wang Fu.
Her mother’s uncle. The man who hid far more secrets than he appeared to have. A wise, gentle, and respectful figure who was much older than he looked, though her parents hadn’t believed Marinette when she told them so.
Still, there he was now, sitting calmly across from her, drinking tea with a serene smile, as if he hadn’t just told her the most terrifying thing in the world.
“Time is running out, Marinette,” said Master Fu, her great-uncle. “Soon, you will take the mantle.”
That was ridiculous. The man was over a hundred years old, why couldn’t he just live a few more years? He was like… immortal or something! And she wasn’t even an adult yet. Wasn’t she supposed to take on that responsibility when she was one?
Marinette was thirteen when she received the Mouse Miraculous.
The same time Hawk Moth appeared.
The same time Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared.
But unlike those two heroes, she didn’t fight unless it was absolutely necessary. Instead, Marinette began her training as a Guardian. She learned to meditate, to observe, to blend into plain sight.
Every movement, every decision, was a test of focus. A trial to become what she was destined to be: a Guardian. Someone who protected, guided, and advised.
It wasn’t just about strength or speed; she had to learn to read intent, to anticipate. A Guardian couldn’t simply react, they had to foresee, to plan, to remain calm in the heart of chaos. Sometimes, the simulations Master Fu made her endure, with the help of the Fox Miraculous, pushed her to the brink. They made her feel as though she couldn’t keep her concentration for another second, that fear would paralyze her, forcing her to start all over again.
Other times, things felt easy, and Marinette found herself believing the effort was worth it.
That feeling grew stronger whenever she faced Chloé, the mayor’s daughter.
Her training also included history. Master Fu taught her about the Miraculous, their legends, their former Guardians. Marinette learned that every stone, every jewel, had its own will and temperament, and ignoring that could be fatal. A Miraculous could never be dominated; one could only harmonize with it. That part came naturally to her. Her body and mind simply adapted. Even the one time she had to use the Ladybug Miraculous, her magic adjusted effortlessly.
For months, Marinette woke before dawn, trained her body, disciplined her mind, and meditated with the Mouse Miraculous. She learned to blend cunning with agility, creativity with discipline, calm with determination. Each day was a test. Each failure, a reminder of how fragile the line between protecting and failing could be. And slowly, Marinette began to feel it, the small power inside her was no longer foreign. It was hers. Every movement grew more natural, every decision more certain. Yet, deep down, she knew an Akuma could appear at any moment, and her training had only just begun.
The world of the Miraculous was both beautiful and terrifying. And Marinette was learning that being a Guardian meant risking everything for others, even when it drained her, even when it scared her.
Now she was fourteen. They were still at war with Hawk Moth, and her great-uncle seemed to be slipping into senile dementia, saying nonsense like she would soon take the mantle. That was nonsense… right?
“It’s all for a greater good, Marinette,” the old man assured her, lifting his cup and taking a calm sip. His eyes watched her with such serenity it was almost irritating.
“But Master… Grandpa… I’m not ready yet. What if I can’t do it?” she asked. “What if I can’t protect the Miraculous?”
“You were born for this, Marinette,” the old man said, setting his cup down gently and pouring her some tea.
Marinette took the cup and sipped, wincing when she burned her tongue. The old man smiled.
“You must stay calm, Marinette,” Master Fu told her. “Don’t rush things. You need to breathe, center yourself, and think through your options before acting.”
“Okay.” Her eyes flicked nervously toward the clock on the wall. “Master Fu, does it really have to be so soon? I’m not even fifteen!”
“You’re ready.”
“I’m not.”
“Why wouldn’t you be?”
“B-because… I’m clumsy.” Marinette lowered her gaze. “What if Ladybug thinks I’m not good enough? You know we’ve argued before. Or what if Chat Noir gets mad at me because I mess something up? I mean, I don’t care if he gets mad—he’s an idiot—but what if I screw up and ruin everything and—”
“Breathe, Marinette.” The old man’s eyes shone with kindness and a glint of amusement. “Everything will be fine.”
“But—”
“Don’t let your fears rule your mind.” The calm in his voice made Marinette relax a little. Her bright blue eyes focused on him as he continued, “Fear is like a current of water. If you let it run free, it can become a torrent that sweeps you away. But if you learn to channel it, it becomes the river that carries you forward. Don’t let fear drown you, Marinette. Use it as a reminder that you’re stronger than you think.”
She smiled weakly, taking a deep breath and nodding. Marinette had always believed Master Fu’s advice carried more meaning than it seemed. Mullo, the tiny Mouse kwami by her side, watched her with a grin as he munched on one of the macarons her mother had left for them earlier.
Marinette lowered her gaze, clutching the warm cup in her hands, watching the steam rise and mingle with the tension in her chest. Even with Master Fu’s words, her heart was racing; she knew an Akuma could strike at any moment, and every decision, every move, could mean the difference between saving or losing everything.
The old man studied her with infinite patience, as though he could see every hidden fear behind her eyes. “Remember,” he said softly, “it’s not about doing everything perfectly. It’s about keeping your clarity even when everything around you feels chaotic. That’s what separates a Guardian from someone who acts out of fear.”
Marinette took a deep breath, trying to calm the knot in her stomach. But just as she was about to nod, an explosion lit up the sky, a dark, violent flash tearing across Paris. An Akuma. Her body tensed automatically, instinctively ready for what she knew had to come.
“Master Fu…” she murmured, torn between anxiety and resolve. “I… I don’t want to fail.”
“And you won’t,” he replied firmly. “Trust what you’ve learned. Trust yourself. Now go—help Ladybug and Chat Noir this time.”
Marinette took a step toward the door, transformed… and ran out.
The battle had been rough. The Akuma, Destinée, was sending people to their biological parents through magical portals. Ladybug said it had been born from a fight between a girl and her mother about who her real father was, or so the woman had told Ladybug. So they knew what the akumatized object was, the problem was getting to it.
Destinée was strong, as expected; children and teenagers often created stronger Akumas because their emotions were so intense. They’d had to rebuild their plan twice, and Marinette had ended up needing to recharge her Miraculous.
Normally, that wouldn’t have been a problem. But besides the “bomb” Master Fu had handed her earlier, Marinette had spent the previous night sleepless, digging for clues about Hawk Moth’s identity with no success, so her patience was razor-thin.
And that’s how she found herself now, reevaluating every life choice, glaring pure irritation at the girl in front of her.
There were days Marinette thought she’d seen it all—Old men handing her magical jewels that turned her into a mouse-themed superhero, making her Guardian of a team of heroes only to then disappear; Akumas, clones, warped realities, a cat with nine lives (each one more unbearable than the last)… but nothing had prepared her for Lila Rossi.
Lila, with her venomous smile and perfect lies.
Lila, with those infuriating, malicious green eyes.
Lila, who had stolen all her friends.
Lila, who was now facing her in the middle of the street, furious because Marinette had exposed her in front of Adrien the day before, while an Akuma unleashed chaos over Paris.
The air was charged with electricity and not just from the Akuma floating above the city.
“This is your fault!” Lila hissed, dodging a dark whip that cracked against the pavement.
“Are you kidding me?” Marinette shot back. “You’re the one who started lying! I just told the truth!”
“Adrien’s ignoring me because of you!” Lila snapped.
Marinette scoffed. “Maybe you shouldn’t have said you two were dating.”
“He wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t opened your big mouth!” Lila glared at her.
Marinette clenched her jaw, her heart pounding, not just from the adrenaline of the fight, but from the anger Lila always managed to ignite in her.
“That doesn’t make any sense!” she shouted, stepping forward, her voice trembling between exhaustion and frustration. “Just leave me alone! Agreste’s the only friend I have left. Can’t you just keep the others? You always have to make everything about you! You can’t let anyone else have anything!”
Lila arched an eyebrow, her smile more poisonous than ever.
“Oh, please,” she sneered. “Always so dramatic, Marinette. You love to blame me for everything, but you know what? You did this to yourself. If you hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have had to take those idiots you called friends.”
The air between them crackled with tension, every word a poisoned dart. Marinette felt rage rise in her throat. Every lie, every manipulation, every stolen smile, it all boiled down to this moment.
“Enough!” Marinette shouted, unable to hold it in anymore. “I’m done with your crap!”
Lila glared, her smirk twisting into challenge. “Done?” she repeated, stepping forward. “I’m done with you! Always interfering, always trying to destroy what I’ve built. You think you can stop me? Try it! I’m not backing down!”
The electric buzz of the Akuma’s chaos fused with the heat of their anger, it felt like standing in the middle of a hurricane. Marinette’s fury gave her strength, but also an unbearable exhaustion. She’d been up all night, she’d been fighting nonstop, and still, Lila provoked her like none of this—none of the danger—mattered.
Marinette was simply done. “Stop it!” she panted, her breath ragged. “You’re… you’re impossible!”
“And you’re pathetic!” Lila snapped back.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, each seeing everything they hated, everything they feared reflected in the other. The disgust wasn’t superficial; it was visceral, bone-deep. Every muscle in Marinette’s body tensed, every sense sharpened. She could smell Lila’s sweat, feel the static in the air, hear her own heartbeat hammering in her chest.
And then came the first real contact between them. Marinette lunged forward, unleashing all her frustration, and shoved Lila hard. Lila shoved her back, and the fight escalated into a full-blown brawl with kicks, blocks, dodges, and spins; every move charged with pure emotion, hatred, and defiance.
“I hate you!” Marinette shouted, her face flushed, her eyes blazing.
“I hate you too!” Lila hissed, her voice sharp and venomous.
A fist connected with her face.
Marinette tasted blood, metallic and hot, her lip throbbing.
“You little—”
She didn’t finish. A violet flash cut through the air, and before she could react, she felt herself pulled—torn—flung through something that wasn’t light or shadow.
She fell.
Not onto the ground, onto someone.
She groaned, trying to sit up, only to realize she’d landed in the lap of a broad-shouldered man—in a massive cave—surrounded by masked people staring at them.
Great. The hits hurt a lot more without her suit.
She tried to process what had happened.
The Akuma’s blast must’ve hit her and sent her flying somewhere else. And now she was sitting on top of some stranger she didn’t even know.
The man looked… well, Marinette didn’t have the words beyond confused and angry. Very angry.
She blinked, looking around again.
A cave. People in masks. And, was that Nightwing standing next to Robin?
Uh-oh.
Holly shit.
Marinette had just discovered Batman’s identity.
Batman, The Batman, the same terrifying man who had once contacted Ladybug, Chat Noir, and her to discuss Paris.
That Batman.
And Batman was… well, Marinette had no idea who he actually was.
She blinked again.
“Who are you?” Batman growled.
“Uh… Marinette?” she answered hesitantly as she got up. Only then did she notice the gleaming golden chain linking her wrist to his. “And you,” she began, blinking up at the tall man in black before her, “you’re not my father.”
“What?” Batman said, blinking.
Oh.
Oh, hell no.
Her heart started pounding faster as realization began to sink in. Blue eyes like hers, eyes no one else in her family had. Black hair like hers, more like hers than her mother’s.
Oh no.
No, no, no.
Her breathing quickened, cold sweat crawling down her back. The world around her seemed to hum, a faint buzz in her ears that hadn’t been there before. Her hands trembled, and the chain between them felt heavier than it should have. Each second stretched painfully, drawing out the horror of realization.
“Kid?” Batman said softly.
Marinette’s heart thudded in her throat. “No… no, it can’t be…” she whispered, more to herself than to him. But her voice sounded foreign, fragile, as if it came from someone else. The certainty crept in with every heartbeat—those eyes, that hair—she couldn’t deny it. And if it was true… then everything she thought she knew about her parents, about her life, about herself… was wrong.
She tried to step back, to put distance between them, but the chain stopped her. She tugged at it, desperate, the metal clinking sharply in the silence. Every sound reminded her how trapped she was—physically and emotionally—with a truth she wasn’t ready to face.
Then, a shriek.
Another body fell, straight onto Batman. This time, he was ready and caught it before it hit the ground.
Marinette recognized the girl immediately.
Lila.
Tied to the same chain, connected at the same wrist as the man.
Oh, hell no.
Lila looked dazed at first, then tense, terrified, as if she couldn’t believe who she was staring. Her gaze darted around until it landed on Marinette. Blue met green.
And Lila’s panic turned to fury. “You again?!” she shouted.
Marinette remembered the sting on her lip and decided to channel all her anxiety into anger. “You hit me!” she accused (even though she had hit Lila first).
Lila crossed her arms with defiance. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
Marinette took a step forward, cracking her knuckles. “Hit you back.”
And then she lunged, tackling Lila to the ground as the two rolled, wrestling furiously.
Bruce sighed.
It was official. The night had just gotten worse.