Flashback Cutscene: Missing in Action

9 years and 5 months...

The sky was suddenly filled with an eerie grey as lightning struck down and thunder roared loudly overhead, yet no rain was to be seen.

"Another akuma," Ladybug said, picking up a small stone and bouncing it across the rooftop.

"Do you need to go?"

"Don't want to." Her response was childish. Almost like a child denying their parents at bedtime.

She picked up another stone and repeated the action, bouncing the tiny rock over the rooftops. They both sat in silence. She didn't know why she'd suggested this, why she thought this was a good idea, but she just needed to see him one more time, to tell him goodbye before she couldn't tell him hello anymore.

"There's this thing that happens if I decide to give up guardianship of the Miraculous." She felt his eyes on her as she continued talking. "If I transfer Guardianship to someone else I would lose my memories. We're unsure yet whether it'll be just my Miraculous memories, or all memories from the day I became Ladybug."

"What makes you think that?"

Ladybug looked up to the sky, not an ounce of care about being MIA from the battle, she trusted her partner, he could do this alone – without her. He needed someone more deserving. She was done.

"There's this thing called 'The Miracle Box', and when it was passed onto me, my hero name was used, not my civilian. I've spoken to the other celestial guardians and they're unsure too, apparently it's never happened before when it's been passed to a hero instead of to someone by true name."

This had been a constant thought of hers, one that had played over and over again since she'd made this her decision. She'd spoken to Su-Han, yet he couldn't give her any information, which took her to her next point of contact which was Luka. He had just completed his first year of training at the Temple, and she was hoping he would have good news for her, but just like everyone else, he had nothing.

"What about your partner? What about Chat Noir?"

A boom sounded in the distance and she knew she should end this now, not just for her own heart, but for the sake of Paris too. She'd go, defeat this akuma and then find Luka and relinquish the box – and if they could pull it off, Adrien's memories of Marinette too. They deserved a chance to be happy, even if it wasn't with each other.

"You can't tell me you'd go through with this without talking to your partner? That's really low, LB!"

She felt the tell tale tingle in her nose and she couldn't help but wonder where this next bout of tears were coming from. She must have been dehydrated from the amount of crying she'd expelled over the past couple of days. Looking over to Adrien, she didn't know what had gone through her mind to think this was a good idea, because it wasn't. It really, really wasn't. But she had to see him again.

Ladybug shook her head in response, "I can't tell him."

Adrien let out a laugh. "You do realise he'd be crushed if he wasn't informed about something this... this... big!"

"It's not that simple. You don't understand!"

"Don't understand? My girlfriend just dumped me for no reason! If anyone understands how Chat Noir would feel, I do! You can't treat him that way Ladybug, it's not fair and it's not right! You can't give up something that includes him. Shit! It's like you don't even care."

Anger boiled inside her and before she knew it, she was on her feet looking down at him. His blond hair blurring into the treeline as her eyes began to drown in tears.

"You think my life is that easy! You think I can be as careless as to just up and leave him because I don't care about him? That's where you're wrong, Adrien. The reason I won't tell him isn't because I don't want to, but because I know for a fact if he told me not to then I damn well wouldn't! But I can't live like this anymore! I can't! You have no idea what it's like to be holding all of these secrets and hiding them. I'm going insane, Adrien." She dropped down onto her knees and hung her head. "If Chat Noir begged me not to do it, I wouldn't. But it's not that simple. I hate my life, Adrien, and I don't know if I can do this anymore. I had one good thing, but I had to let it go. I had to let him go."

She felt drained. Her energy zapped and stolen in a world full of spiralling emotions and every word she just said being the absolute truth. She loved Adrien, but she had to let him go. She didn't want Chat Noir to persuade her to carry on when she was crawling her way through each and every day. She had to stop. Ladybug had to be someone else, she needed to get rid of the memories and then maybe, just maybe, a second chance could come along.

"I found this spell in the grimoire. I can transfer the memory of me from those I love. I'm thinking of using it on my ex-boyfriend."

The floor shook around them, the akuma picking up power and, from the smoke embellishing the sky, they were destroying Paris too.

Without a word, she grabbed Adrien, sending the yo-yo out over the rooftops and lowering them gently onto the ground. Moving to get away, Ladybug was stopped by Adrien's hand on her arm.

"There are always other options, Ladybug, even if it seems impossible."

She stared into the green eyes she adored so much feeling the pain of each droplet rolling down his face. But Ladybug came first... whilst Paris was in danger, Ladybug always came first. She turned back towards the sounds of screaming and made her way to the akuma. She was stubborn, and for once she knew her choice was the right one.

*****

Level 13: Who is the Hero Here?

Present Day...

Ivan scurried along the street, clutching onto his folders with a croissant half hanging from his mouth, muttering profanities behind the crusty, flakes of the pastry. Why was Paris so big, and so popular? Did they not know he had places to go and people to see?

With Bastille Day quickly approaching, the throngs of tourists were beginning to hit their maximum and the streets were becoming cluttered with people who didn't know where they were going — heads down looking at smartphones and the power of Google Maps.

After almost trampling over a dog and kicking a cat, Ivan found himself falling through the revolving doors and almost onto the ground in the foyer. The accident saw folder upon folder, skate along the marble floor in a bid to escape.

"Shit!" he huffed, hurrying forward on his hands and knees to try and gather everything together.

"Here," a voice said beside him. It sounded like the occupant had a cold, and from the way their hood was pulled over their head, he was almost certain that was the case. It was 26 degrees outside, not exactly hoodie weather.

"Thank you," he replied, but it was too late. Whoever had helped hand him back the folders was already out on the street, absorbing themselves alongside the sea of people and bobbing along with the throngs.

Ivan turned his attention back to the job at hand. He needed to get to the right floor before the search party was sent out for him. He wasn't too late — only about 15 minutes, but with Nino's 'accident' everyone had suddenly become even more cautious than in the Monarch days, checking in with each other and making sure all were alive and accounted for. The notifications from their WhatsApp group constantly sending his smartwatch into a frenzy.

Finally making it to the correct floor, Ivan threw himself out the elevator and towards where his designer was waiting... or should have been waiting? Standing in the middle of the newly plastered room, Ivan's next appointment was nowhere to be seen. Moving around the room, he looked through what would be the kitchen, to the bedroom and walk-in wardrobe. The room was empty. The floor was empty. He continued moving, perhaps they'd gone for a look at another apartment to get an idea about what they wanted to design, or maybe they just weren't here yet. It wouldn't be the first time they were late.

As he exited the apartment, the sudden movement of the elevator had his head turning swiftly in that direction – the numbers flickering on the control panel as the elevator continued its climb to his floor. He watched as it slowed and stilled, before the single chime signalled its opening.

The metal doors moved from their tight hug, revealing... nothing. Not a soul in sight. The doors remained open, allowing Ivan to move forward and check to see if anyone was in there. With a tentative step, he jammed his foot against the door stopping it from closing and leaving the level. He scoured the metal cage, looking up and down.

Empty.

Completely and utterly empty.

Without warning a loud bang echoed through the corridor, Ivan almost certain his heart had stopped and he'd entered a new chapter in a Stephen King novel.

"Good afternoon, Ivan. Sorry I'm late, I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."

Ivan let out a deep breath and smiled as he took in her appearance. Her hair was less than perfect and her complexion was slightly flushed, clearly she had rushed to get here as soon as possible.

Removing his foot from where it was holding back the door, Ivan stepped forward to greet the new arrival in a big bear hug.

He made a show of checking his watch, "Five minutes. That has to be a record for you, Mrs. Agreste." It was his first chance to call her that in person, and he chuckled at her simultaneous blush and shocked expression.

"I'm just teasing," he continued. "I know what it's like with you artistic types, you're not the only one I deal with who has trouble making appointments on time." He watched her visibly relax, and when she went to apologise again he interjected again. "You don't have to worry, I wasn't exactly on time myself. We have a lot to go over today, so I cleared my schedule for it. Let's get started, shall we?"

Ivan led them through the rooms, detailing where the building was currently at. It seemed most of the labourers' work was complete and now it was just onto the fine finishing touches, hence why this meeting was taking place.

They had been lucky with only a few minor issues and hold ups, the surveyors signing off pretty swiftly on their inspection saying it was one of the best modern buildings they'd checked out recently. Much to his relief as he had to give constant rundowns to Félix.

After Ivan felt like he'd bored her half to death, they took the opportunity to catch up on each other's personal lives, after all, she'd kept Adrien hostage for three weeks after the celebration of the year and he missed his friend dearly. Their bond over the years had solidified, Adrien being a big support along with Félix getting his company up and running.

"How's Adrien handled coming back to real life? Have you been keeping him busy?"

"Of course," she giggled. "He's all mine now. I've finally managed to get him to myself."

"You've had him to yourself since the day you met," Ivan laughed. Both moving back through the apartment and into the hallway. The whirring sound of the elevator stole his attention again, he'd need to get that checked out.

"How's Madeline?"

Ivan smiled widely at hearing his daughter's name, she was his pride and joy. Everything about her made his life worth living, her and Myléne that was. The small girl was surrounded by people who loved her; adoring parents and grandparents, along with many honorary aunts and uncles.

"She's as amazing as always, we think her first steps might be coming soon as she's coasting the furniture a lot."

"That's amazing! I can't wait to have kids. One or two tiny little Adrien's running around the apartment."

Ivan laughed, guiding her to the stairwell and up to the next floor. "Believe me when I say you'll want a house for a family. A nice garden. Space for yourselves."

"Are you trying to get another sale here? I know Félix has considered buying a row of townhouses?"

The easy and friendly atmosphere carried them up through the building, passing a number of partially plastered rooms, equipment laying against walls and on the floor. Ivan led the way up the last flight of stairs and opened the door to the penthouse suite.

"And now, for the pièce de résistance." As the door swung open, pride swarmed in his veins. He'd worked his ass off under other people's orders, however, this one was all his. This was his second baby.

The dark wood floors were accented with cream walls and chrome fittings. The wide open plan kitchen/lounge offered huge floor to ceiling windows and bifold doors. He watched as she walked over to the windows, sounds of awe as she opened the door and stepped out onto the patio. The building had been an old abandoned structure on the edge of the Seine. The views over the river were phenomenal and a part of him wanted to keep it for himself.

"I've set a table up over here with the latest drafts. If you want to get started, I'll quickly go and get some water from my fridge, and we'll get to work on those changes," Ivan said. "Hopefully we won't be distracted too much. No one else is due to start work for at least –" The sudden, rattling sound of a jackhammer started down on a lower level, his face apologetically looking towards her as he turned and walked away.

"It's fine, thank you," she said and walked over to the table. Taking her things from her bag, she rolled out the draft sheets and pulled folders from her briefcase.

As Ivan watched her pouring over the latest drawings, he stepped back and started making his way out of the room to fetch those promised drinks from his office. Suddenly remembering the folders under his arm, Ivan pulled them out and prepared to put them on the table beside him when he noticed something a little different, something he hadn't noticed before. Grabbing the red folder which had been passed back to him by the stranger, Ivan could see there were things in there he definitely didn't add in himself.

Pictures.

Pictures of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Pictures of...

He stopped and turned around, studying the woman currently placing paper after paper on the table, covering it in vibrant designs and other items. No!

Ivan looked down again, the picture of Nino in normal clothing... battered, blistered... dying. He began to make his way back, but as he hit halfway he heard the first sound. Confusion struck as it repeated again. What he was hearing made no sense. It sounded like a series of twangs, like a guitar string snapping after being over tightened.

"Call Adrien!" Ivan said, moving towards her at an intense speed only to freeze when a new sound filled the silence, and this one made his blood run cold.

He recognised this sound, and it terrified him. It was the sound of stones grinding against each other, and plaster cracking. The sound of a job failing and crumbling before them. Every builder's worst nightmare. Somehow, somewhere in the building, a wall was collapsing and Ivan knew that if he could hear it, the wall in question was very close to him.

That's when he saw the first crack appear.

Like watching lightning in slow motion, he watched the intricate lines snake their way along the outer wall of the room, quickly making their way to —

"LOOK OUT!" He was instantly in motion once again, running straight towards what he was sure was imminent death. But he had no choice. He had to save her.

Startled by his yelling, her blue eyes lifted to meet his; a look of confusion at first, unable to comprehend what was happening; but, he saw the instant she realised what was happening, as her eyes blew wide open in shock and fear.

"GET UNDER THE TABLE!!" he screamed at her, but she was slow to react, and he was only halfway there when the far end of the wall started to fall into the room.

There was no time.

He wasn't going to make it, and she wasn't moving.

But he had to try. For her, for Adrien, for Myléne... he had to try.

Ivan reached her just as the wall in front of her began to fall, dust circulating the room and filling his lungs making it progressively harder to breathe. He grabbed her shoulders, and in one fluid motion, he spun around and threw her under the table just as the wall hit it. And him.

Pain exploded across his back and shoulders, as he was slammed to the floor by the sheer weight of the decaying wall. As the table collapsed next to him, some bricks hit his head and black spots blurred his vision, and his thoughts. He had no idea if he had succeeded, and in that instant he no longer cared. He only cared about Myléne and Madeline. How much they meant to him, of how much he loved them, of how sorry he was for leaving them.

As the photograph of Ladybug and Chat Noir slipped from his hands — the photo showing their shared dreams of love, life and victory — his head was hit again, and this time the darkness claimed him.