THERE WAS ONLY ONE THING people needed to hear to understand Alya's perspective on life: savoir, c'est pouvoir.

Knowledge is power.

Knowledge was what saved lives, converted bigots and protected the oppressed. As a journalist, Alya didn't know if she would like most to write fluff pieces—heartwarming accounts of old couples and their colourful lives—or cover hard-hitting stories like the Agreste scandal in real time. But she knew what her dream was: spreading awareness and using knowledge to change the world for the better.

It sounded fantastic on paper, but between Alya and her dream were years of studying and years of hustling.

She had to start early, learning the rhythms of the news cycle and how Paris' foremost journalists researched and wrote their pieces. So she found herself, along with Marinette, voraciously consuming the bulletins on Gabriel, Nathalie and Adrien. All day, every day.

Her classmates picked up on their routine soon enough. Now, Miss Bustier's class knew to gather around their usual table in the school cafeteria and watch the daily lunchtime livestream with Alya.

On the Monday of the second week of the investigation, Nathalie was found.

"Holy shit," Alix exclaimed, munching into her banana, "I thought Gabriel killed her."

"That's preposterous," Max said. "It's highly likely that Nathalie is Mayura, and she was—"

"Guys," Alya snapped, glancing over her shoulder to frown at the boys. "Shh. No talking during the livestream."

Marinette adjusted Alya's phone so it rested horizontally on the cafeteria table, resting against a napkin dispenser. Alix and Max settled down, the former chuckling to herself, leaning into the small crowd that gathered around Alya.

Their attention narrowed in on the video once more, featuring Nadja Chamack with a rolling series of videos and graphics.

"—Sancouer has been detained by police after evading authorities for a week. The personal assistant to Gabriel Agreste, Sancouer had attempted to procure a false passport and plane tickets to the Ukraine after her longtime employer was outed as the supervillain Hawk Moth."

Nathalie's mugshot appeared on the screen. Despite her pristine low bun and creaseless uniform, her pale skin was deathly, eyes hollow and devoid of life. The footage of Nathalie being escorted to the police station in handcuffs burned into her mind like a brand. Alya felt a tremor in her gut. She knew Nathalie was Mayura.

She absolutely knew it. She just had to prove it.

"After growing suspicious, the middleman hired by Sancouer phoned in an anonymous tip to Paris police about the woman's whereabouts. It is strongly suspected that Mayura is her secret identity, though no evidence has been found. Police are currently detaining Sancouer at—"

A large, tanned hand gripped the phone and turned it off.

Who dared interfere with the lunchtime livestream?

"What the fuck?" Alya cursed, whirling around in her seat to face her boyfriend. "Babe! We were watching that."

Nino greeted Ivan, Max and Kim with that claspy, loud bro-handshake he used for anyone of the same gender. He dropped a kiss on Alya's temple. "Hello, my beloved. It's good to see you, too. Yes, the radio update went swimmingly. Sorry, guys, can I be the party pooper for once and steal my girlfriend away?"

Half of the class threw an understanding smile in Nino's direction. Their friends drifted back to their own cafeteria tables, speculating subduedly between themselves about the newest development in the Agreste investigation.

Alya pouted, reaching for her phone. "There's time for chit chat after the lunchtime livestream."

"I know," Nino smiled, slipping into the empty seat Alya had saved for him. A plastic tray slid onto the table, carrying salad nicoise, an apple, two bread rolls and a muesli bar.

Even though Nathalie's detainment was technically good news, Alya noted the pinched lips and furrowed brows on her friends' faces. Adrien had yet to return to school. News reports assured the public that Adrien was safe and in cooperation with authorities, but he still hadn't contacted anyone.

Maybe that was why everyone invested so much time into the lunchtime reports. Maybe it wasn't just Alya that craved information. Maybe everyone else did, too. Her classmates just wanted to know that Adrien was okay.

"—you know what there's no time for after the lunchtime livestream?"

"What?"

"Lunch." Nino glanced around at the table, seeing no trays in front of the girls. "Have you two eaten?"

Alya made a desperate lunge for her phone, but Nino pulled his waistband out from his hips and dropped her phone down his jeans.

"Don't think I won't go there," she warned.

"I do not consent." Nino drew his spine straight, adopting a posture reminiscent of Carapace's laid-back confidence. "After school, though, be my guest." Then he winked.

Marinette noticed nothing, her eyes repeatedly sliding to the purse at her hip. Alya levelled a flat stare at Nino. He is so infuriating.

Yes, Alya loved this boy more than life itself. She loved him because he could never keep a secret if he tried. She loved him because he was a drama queen. Nino was sensitive, and emotions often swept him away like a kite in the wind—as evidenced by his Rocketeer meltdown and his reaction to Gabriel Agreste's unmasking. Alya would be his anchor to the ground, to all things solid.

She loved him because underneath his melodrama, there was something true and bright and unwavering. The core of Nino would do anything to protect his loved ones, even in a crisis, especially in a crisis. He sometimes doubted himself, but she never did. A week on, he was closer to his assured, protective self than ever.

He was the most perfect Carapace.

But, fuck, he infuriated her.

When Marinette attempted to draw her phone from her purse, Nino warned lightly, "Your phone will meet the same fate, Marinette. Seriously. Have either of you eaten?"

Marinette froze, eyes wide, and the round shape of them made Alya hone in on the dark bags underneath.

". . . Not yet," she chuckled weakly.

"Were you going to?"

Marinette coughed, and Alya averted her gaze. It was fine. They both had nutritious breakfasts and hearty dinners—who cared if, over a temporary period in their otherwise healthy lives, lunch suffered while they conducted reconnaissance? For Paris. For Adrien.

Nino huffed. He gave one bread roll and muesli bar to Marinette, and the other roll with the apple to Alya. "From now on, you are only allowed to speak if you're chewing."

They ate and did not speak. Nino dug into his food with a pleased grin, and Alya couldn't help herself from feeling that bit grateful he was looking out for them.

After the bell rang for fourth period, Nino slid his chair back and extended his tray in front of them. "Rubbish run."

As she placed her apple core on the tray, Alya made a suggestive glance at Nino's jeans, eyebrows jumping. He sighed and returned her phone.

"Thanks, babe," Alya chirped. She stopped Nino with a hand on his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. "For everything."

Nino flushed and tipped his head coyly, departing for the tray depository.

When he was out of earshot, Alya turned to Marinette. "I know Nathalie's Mayura. I just know it. She was Hawk Moth's closest ally, and in real life Nathalie is Gabriel's closest ally. The fact that the Peacock Miraculous was passing between their hands means Gabriel probably knew her identity—and we all know his social life wasn't exactly thriving." She clicked her phone on and navigated back to her web browser, diving back into the live article. "Therefore, Mayura has to be someone close to him. It's Nathalie. Totally. Right?"

Marinette was chewing on the inside of her cheeks. Alya had thought that she was mulling over this new information, but too many seconds of silence had passed and her bluebell eyes were too unfocused, staring at the chair Adrien sometimes sat in. She was drifting again.

"Right, Marinette?"

"Hmm?" her best friend murmured. "Oh. Yes. Sure."

Alya deflated a little in her seat. Marinette clearly hadn't slept much last night. It was becoming frighteningly common. Perhaps Nino was right. Perhaps they had been blinded by the internet and the investigation while everything else—the important things—had faded from view.

"Never mind. Do you want to stop by André's after school—"

A notification slid down from the top of her screen, her phone jumping once as it vibrated. Alya had set all her browsers and news apps to ping her if any breaking news about Ladybug, the Miraculous, or the Agreste investigation was updated.

"Oh, my God," she murmured, eyes trailing down the web page.

"What is it?"

"The judge's office." She faced the screen to Marinette and pointed at the most important line. "A public announcement. They want to see Ladybug."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

In red and black, stifling a yawn, Ladybug glanced around the office of Heloise Hessenpy.

The juge d'instruction sat in a plush chair behind a grand mahogany desk. As she reached for a laptop and powered it on, the rings on her middle and ring finger glinted in the sunlight from the bow window.

"Thanks for coming today."

Ladybug crossed one leg over the other, seated on an equally luxurious armchair, and thanked the heavens that her mask would hide her raging dark undereyes. "It's no problem. How can I be of service?"

Heloise was a direct type of woman. In twenty minutes, Ladybug was briefed on the procedure for prosecuting felonies, the current state of the Agreste investigation and the potholes that were starting to yawn open on the long road to justice.

Before they could put the bad guys in prison, they needed to be sentenced. Which meant they needed to be tried in the cour d'assises. Which meant they needed to be charged with a crime. Which meant Heloise's team needed to know the exact extent of all Hawk Moth's wrongdoing.

That last step was also colourfully known as the biggest damn pothole of Ms. Hessenpy's entire thirty-year career. Her words, not Ladybug's.

Heloise sighed and lowered her head, two fingers of each hand pressing into her temples. "Paris has never had to convict a supervillain before. It could take years to even build Gabriel's dossier, not to mention taking him to court. I'll be old and grey at the end if my office only relies on our usual resources."

Though Hawk Moth and their strongest suspect for Mayura were detained, they both exercised their right to silence. Searches of the Agreste mansion were slow to reveal leads because it was just so damn massive. They found a hidden safe, but nothing incriminating lay inside it, and several rooms had been upturned. The verdict was still out on who had done it—and authorities didn't seem to care when there were more pressing things to investigate.

"It's even more difficult because other countries want to prosecute Hawk Moth in their own legal systems. We're trying to bring a terrorism charge against Hawk Moth for what he did in New York and Shanghai," Heloise explained. "Chinese police also unearthed a money-laundering scheme among corrupt pawnbrokers that has been linked to Gabriel."

"I remember. I gave you testimony when I returned to Paris."

"You did. We have a lot of testimonies already." Heloise slid the laptop across her desk, rotating the screen to face Ladybug. "The judiciary police department has been anticipating the day we would finally be able to move on this investigation. After each akumatisation event, we've tried to get as much information as possible. Have a look."

With hesitant fingers, Ladybug touched the trackpad and scrolled through the dozens of files in this folder. They were systematically titled with a date and a name, and Ladybug realised she had the city's database of akumatisations in the palm of her hand.

2016_09_06_Lahiffe_Nino.zip

2018_04_24_Cesaire_Alya.zip

2019_07_29_Dupain_Tom.zip

2021_01_30_Cheng_Sabine.zip

Those files jumped out at her, and the rest blurred into white and light-blue foreboding. So many years. Out of curiosity, Ladybug clicked into a random ZIP file—Penny Rolling.

There were Penny's video interviews with the police department and transciptions in word documents. Clips from the news and PDFs of internet articles about her akumatisation. Damage reports from the city council, and forms from the Paris police about her time at the station. Every file, every person, had about as much information stored away.

Heloise handed over a thick ring binder—black with red spots—with Ladybug's name on it. "Here."

The first page was full of contact details for anyone working the Gabriel Agreste case—Heloise herself, various judicial police detectives, the head of the ballistics team analysing the security system of the Agreste mansion, the captain of the forensics team searching each room.

That much she glimpsed from a quick rifle through the pages. There were many, many more people and many, many more procedures and timelines inside. Different sections were neatly marked with coloured tabs, protruding from the ream in a wash of rainbow.

"When you defeated Hawk Moth, did you find the Peacock Miraculous on his person?"

Ladybug sighed and placed the binder back on the desk, to the left of the laptop. "No. I didn't."

One afternoon, after Nooroo had settled into his new home in Marinette's bedroom, Ladybug had asked the kwami about Gabriel. Even free of him, Nooroo couldn't muster anger for his captor. Just resentment and an overwhelming sympathy. Apparently, the man lived in constant anguish.

"Did you ever meet the wielder of the Peacock Miraculous?" Marinette had asked. "Do you know who Mayura is?"

"I couldn't travel freely in my Master's house. I was never allowed more than a few feet away from him," Nooroo had crooned softly, his gossamer wings trembling.

Even now, Ladybug was revolted that someone would demand a kwami call them Master.

The relationship between kwami and wielder was precious, something to be respected. If Gabriel had no qualms forcing a primordial being under his will, Ladybug knew he wouldn't think twice about asking the same of his personal assistant. That woman was Ladybug's strongest lead to finding the Peacock Miraculous and getting Duusu back home.

And Nathalie had just been taken into police custody.

"As the investigating judge, I have a lot of power," Heloise admitted, staring at the documents in front of her. "I can issue warrants, bring suspects to interrogation and call civilians as witnesses. Any place you'd like to visit, any person you'd like to question in your search for the Peacock Miraculous, I can make it accessible to you. Anything you need."

Of course, Ladybug wanted to say yes. She was going insane with worry about Adrien. The quicker this trial was over, the better off everyone would be. Ladybug would do just about anything to prevent Adrien's torment from dragging out in the public eye.

But Heloise wanted something in return.

Ladybug would not usurp the powers of the Miraculous if these motives weren't completely pure. If there was an inch of self-service, of professional ambition, of vengeful hunger in Heloise, she wasn't sure she should augment the judge's powers with her own.

"And what would you like in return?" Ladybug asked shrewdly.

The judge leaned her head back against the chair, her dark curls shifting under the pressure. "Savoir, c'est pouvoir. You have an incredibly gifted team, and I don't know if you realise how much of a treasure that is."

"I do know," Ladybug said instantly, voice soft but a touch too quick.

Heloise smiled, somehow pleased. "So imagine how much time we could save if Pegasus was there to help transport evidence or witnesses between countries."

In her periphery, Ladybug saw Heloise's eyes watching intently while she checked out more akumatisation files. Sometimes the interviews were as quick as a bodycam conversation with Officer Roger on the street, and other times they cared enough to come into the police station, reciting their emotional trauma with heartbreaking clarity.

"Imagine if Ryuko could search an entire building within seconds in her Wind Dragon form," she continued. "Imagine if Second Chance could be used to speed up our interrogations of Nathalie or Gabriel or Adrien. Imagine the strength of several superhero testimonies in the cour d'assises."

"My team would gladly provide testimonies. But their powers are not to be taken lightly. They can only be used once before the wielder has to transform back."

Ladybug gently shut the laptop and slid it across the polished wood. Heloise didn't even look at it.

"I know this. I do not want to offload the work of judiciary police to you, nor do I want to abuse the powers of the Miraculous. Your responsibility is to your wielders, and mine is to the law of this city. We would have a parallel partnership. If there comes a circumstance in which our abilities could best serve Paris jointly rather than separately, I would simply like us to be able to call on each other."

Ladybug herself would have willingly performed those duties—transporting and searching and interrogating—if that was within her skillset. As such, she couldn't open portals or become incorporeal or even pretend to the type of violence that would get Hawk Moth to 'fess up. He would never, ever speak to Ladybug.

If she couldn't do it, how could she ask for those efforts from her wielders, who were still just school students, who were her friends?

"It could take years to build our case because of the sheer volume of evidence to sort through. And for all the citizens who have been hurt by Hawk Moth, I would rather that this not be prolonged," Heloise said gently. "I'm sure you feel the same."

Ladybug did. She wanted this to be over, for Adrien. She wanted to close this wound and start his healing.

God knew where he was or what he was doing, but he was safe. The police, the judge's office, and the news all reported so. Except safe was not the same as okay. Ladybug could count on one hand the moments that Adrien had been anything less than radiant. He was always so kind and upbeat, cheering on his classmates and consoling Marinette when she made a fool of herself without letting on that he ever once thought her foolish.

Now he was hurting. She couldn't be there for him. He wouldn't let anyone get close. But maybe she could help in another way.

She leaned back and looked—really looked—at the judge.

For an older woman—old enough to have fully grown children in the fire brigade—Ladybug saw signs of youth and fire in Heloise. The vivid lipstick and tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of her blazer. The feminist metal pins and a badge with a monochrome closed fist on her Chanel handbag.

Ladybug decided she liked this woman. "How can I help?"

Heloise leaned back in her chair, a genuine smile of relief on her face. The wrinkles around her mouth deepened. "I have a special assignment in mind. Each time that you used your magical ladybugs to repair the aftermath of an akuma, everyone affected by Hawk Moth's magic forgot the event. But you never do. You are our largest wealth of information because you always remember."

I always remember. White claws and ice-blue eyes flashed across the back of her eyelids. Ladybug shook the memory away. She forced herself away from glaciers and carnage and a single frozen tear—back into the judge's stylish, well-lit office. Her breath leaked slowly out of her, chest slightly tight.

"Gabriel and Nathalie are not responding to any interrogation tactics, which is expected of people who could only self-incriminate. So aside from them and you, the next greatest pool of information about Hawk Moth's actions lies with our primary witness. I need your help questioning him and cross-referencing the things he says."

Heloise reached an arm across her desk. She located a yellow tab on the ring binder and flipped it open to a page Ladybug hadn't seen when she thumbed through it before. Their primary witness.

"Meet Adrien Agreste."