When Marinette wakes, up, she doesn't notice anything different.

The sun is shining, birds are singing, and she feels more rested than she has in awhile. She sits up, stretching, before clambering out of bed to get ready for the day. School let out only a week ago, but the bakery's had a huge influx of customers celebrating the start of summer break, and her parents need all hands on deck. Later, if time allows, she's planning on going out, maybe with Alya, but she's not in any particular rush.

She hums happily, brushing her hair, before stilling momentarily. The feeling from last night that something's wrong returns, but she shrugs it off as guilt from her argument with Chat. Vowing to hunt him down and apologize, she resumes brushing, and by the time she's done, the feeling is gone.

Grabbing her purse, she's surprised by its lightness. Tikki's usually ready and waiting by the time she is. She scours the room, and finds the small red deity sitting on the windowsill.

"Tikki?" She calls questioningly.

Tikki turns to her and Marinette's taken aback by the distressed look on her face. But before she can ask, it's gone, replaced by the small beings usual cheeriness. "Oh, Marinette, I'm sorry. I was just lost in thought. We can go now."

Floating over to the purse, Tikki settles herself in, closing the snap behind her. Marinette isn't quite convinced, but she lets it slide. Walking to the trapdoor, Marinette quickly walks down to the bakery, where she finds her parents already swamped in orders, aprons coated in flour. Smiling, she shrugs on her own apron, joining the fray, Tikki's odd behaviour quickly fading from her mind.

When Adrien wakes up, he doesn't notice anything different either.

Jolted awake by Nathalie's harsh calls, he scrambles out of bed. Somehow, he's slept through his alarm. He's never slept through his alarm. Tossing Plagg a wedge of camembert, he dashes to the bathroom, furiously brushing his teeth and attempting to wrestle a comb through his hair. In his haste, he knocks over the glass brush container, shattering it. Cursing, he sweeps it to the side with a towel, offering a silent apology to the maid who'll end up cleaning it up. When he's done, he dashes into the closet, throwing on his standard outfit. Unfortunately, he trips numerous times, sending boxes and hangars crashing to the ground.

By the time he's ready, he's so frazzled he doesn't even notice that Plagg hasn't even touched his cheese. When he notices his charge emerge from the bathroom, Plagg flies up to his face. "Adrien, I need to tell-"

Grabbing Plagg out of the air, Adrien almost shoves him into the inside of his over shirt. "Sorry Plagg, it's going to have to wait. I'm in a rush"

He hears a muffled "But-"before it cuts itself off. "Fine" Plagg relents, settling in to try and figure out just how he's going to explain to his young charge that he's likely been replaced.

Adrien smiles, relieved. "Thanks, bud"

Grabbing his modelling outfit for today's shoot, his fencing bag for later, as well as another wheel of camembert for Plagg, he dashes out the door, sheepishly avoiding Nathalie's hard gaze as he passes.

His Father's already out, so only his bodyguard greets him at the limo, silently opening the door. Thanking him, Adrien drops into his seat, sighing. It's been one of the roughest mornings in awhile, and he can only hope the rest of the day will go smoother.

Marinette can't remember the last time a day's gone so smoothly.

It's been one of the busiest day's she can remember, but in spite of the frenzied atmosphere, they've served every customer flawlessly. She usually can't go a shift without burning herself, or dropping something, or stepping on/in something, but today she's been impeccable. In fact, the day's gone so smoothly that her parents wave her away at lunch, declaring that they can manage on their own for the rest of the day. Her protests waved off, she calls Alya, and, finding her free, they decide to meet at the park before deciding what to do with the afternoon.

As she's getting ready, she can't help but notice Tikki's distressing demeanor. The small creature hasn't spoken much, and as she's walking to the park, Marinette considers her friend's odd behaviour. Despite how smoothly the day has run, and how she's usually been her cheery self, there have been odd moments in the back of the bakery where Marinette's checked on the kwami only to find her miserable and silent. One time she was even crying. She hasn't gotten the chance to ask what's wrong, and while Tikki's told her that it might be nothing, she isn't convinced.

Arriving at the park, she sees Alya sitting on a bench, on her phone. Probably working on the Ladyblog. Marinette smiles, before yesterday's events come back to her. Eyebrows furrowing, she takes a deep breath, puffing out her chest and stomping over to the brunette. Sensing her approach, Alya looks up in time to see one of the pigtailed-girls slender fingers poke her in the chest.

"Mari?"

"Alya, what the hell was that?"

"What was what?"

"You know very well, what. What were you thinking?"

"I might be able to tell you if I knew what you were talking about."

"I'm talking about how you got a freaking overpass dropped on you yesterday!"

"Oh" Alya swallows, knowing she's in trouble. "Mari, I-"

Marinette cuts her off. She's been doing that a lot, recently. "Was it worth it? Was a stupid video worth getting your legs crushed?" She continues her onslaught, repeatedly poking the brunette in the chest. "Alya, I know how much you love Ladybug, but this is getting ridiculous! You could've died, and-"

It's Alya's turn to cut her off. "Marinette!" She yells, grabbing the raven-haired girls shoulders. "Girl, I'm fine." Reaching up, she grabs Marinette's wrists, halting her poking assault. Marinette wrenches her hands from Alya's grasp, but ceases poking, choosing to cross her arms over her chest. Alya raises her hands in surrender. "Ladybug's cure fixed everything, didn't it? Look, my legs are fine." She stretches them out in front of her to demonstrate, bending and straightening her knees; flexing her feet.

Marinette still seems unconvinced, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "But what if it didn't? What if your legs stayed broken and you had to get a cast and crutches, or what if your legs never healed and you had to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life, and you had to drop off the volleyball team, and you'll never get your dance with Nino, and-"

Alya bursts out laughing, and Marinette rambles to a stop and just stares at her because why is she laughing, that is the last thing I feel like doing. Seeing the confused look on Marinette's face, Alya just laughs harder, dragging the petite ravenette to her chest for a hug.

"Girl, you're going to drive yourself insane with that ridiculous imagination of yours. You need to stop worrying about what might've happened. I'm fine, you're fine, Paris is safe, and at the end of the day, that's all that matters." She clutches her friend tighter, stroking a hand through her hair.

Marinette slowly relaxes, uncrossing her arms to wrap them around Alya's waist. Squeezing, Alya releases Marinette, dragging her up to sit on the bench next to her. Rubbing her eyes, Marinette takes a deep breath to steady herself, before smiling weakly. "So, did you at least get any good footage after you gave me a heart attack?"

Alya's face breaks into a huge grin. "Girl, like you wouldn't believe!" Grabbing her phone, she's about to bring up the Ladyblog when something catches her eye. She scrolls down, bringing the news headline to the top of the screen.

Chat Noir: Help or Hindrance?

Frowning, Alya clicks through, Marinette looking over her shoulder. An image of the collapsed overpass appears on the screen, and Chat Noir can be seen desperately trying to wrench the debris clear of Alya's legs, while Ladybug takes on the akuma solo. The caption reads Yesterday's downtown akuma attack created a terrifying scene as a teenage girl was pinned from the waist down not by the akuma, but as collateral damage from Chat Noir's claws.

Alya frowns as she reads the caption. Scrolling down, her frown grows.

For a few years now, we've watched Ladybug and Chat Noir battle akumas, trusting them to stop the villains and keep us safe.

Perhaps that trust was misplaced.

Recently, akuma attacks have been far more dangerous, with many innocent people being injured in the chaos. However, the most disturbing fact is that many of these injuries are not a result of any akuma, but rather Chat Noir's incompetence. Whether it be a mistimed Cataclysm, or a wild swing of his claws, his carelessness has put many people in danger, and many do not appreciate it.

"I almost got crushed by a car when Chat Noir destroyed a car park." Said a fearful civilian who did not want to be identified "If it weren't for Ladybug's curing powers, I probably wouldn't be here today. At least, not in one piece"

This is only one of numerous stories that have sprung up recently. Others have fallen from unstable platforms, or been hit by debris, and one particularly scary incident resulted in a civilian being injured by being slashed by Chat Noir's own claws.

Marinette remembers that. The Blinder had been on a rampage, taking everyone's sight. Chat of course, had taken a hit meant for her, and while his powers prevented him from going fully blind, his vision had been limited to shadows and faint outlines, and he was forced to rely on his enhanced hearing. The man in question actually hadn't lost his sight, but had run up behind Chat as he was in the middle of fighting the Blinder. Unable to distinguish civilian from akuma, Chat had swung out blindly, catching the man across the shoulder. For once, luck was on Chat's side, and he only caught the man's clothes and a bit of skin, leaving a shallow gash. But from the way the man reacted, you'd have thought Chat had ripped his arm off. He had dropped to the floor, clutching his arm and screaming, which did not help matters, considering Chat was relying so heavily on his hearing. By the time they had taken The Blinder down, both of the heroes were sporting extra bruises and pounding headaches.

As the attacks grow more frequent, and casualties mount, we can only hope that Chat Noir will take his job seriously, or become more competent, and start acting like the hero he claims to be.

The author isn't listed.

By the time she's done reading, Marinette feels like the biggest jerk ever to walk the earth. This is what Chat woke up to? After she so rudely insulted him yesterday? She needs to find him and apologize, ASAP. Let him know that she's an idiot, that she didn't mean it, that it wasn't his fault. That she definitely won't be better off alone. That she needs him; she won't be able to work with anyone else. And the worst part is, she can't remember the last time she told him that. She imagines that paper written about her, and she feels sick.

Alya, on the other hand, is furious.

"Who do they think they are? What gives them the right to criticize? Do they save Paris on a regular basis?" She's gripping her phone like she's preparing to either crush it or whip it against the ground. "It's not his fault I followed him under that overpass. He had no way of knowing I was there!"

Marinette stares at the brunette, surprised by the ferocity of the girl's anger. "I didn't know you liked Chat Noir that much."

Alya looks offended. "Girl, I may run the Ladyblog, but Chat Noir is still one of Paris's heroes. He's responsible for saving and protecting the city just as much as she is, but I don't think anyone gives him the same amount of credit. I mean, more often than not, he gets the short end of the stick because of his powers. He's always distracting the akuma for Ladybug, taking hits for her and even for civilians. But people don't see that, they only see Ladybug cleanse the akumas. Don't get me wrong, I do love Ladybug as well, but Chat Noir deserves recognition as well!"

Marinette's guilt grows, because Alya, who doesn't even really know Chat, can still recognize and respect his efforts, while she, his partner, chewed him out and insulted him for something that wasn't really his fault. She forces a smile look on her face, because she has no reason to feel guilty, as far as Alya knows.

"Maybe you should make a blog for him."

Alya laughs. "I wish, but I can barely manage the Ladyblog. I wouldn't have the time or energy." Her laugh stops, as she looks at Marinette slyly.

Marinette is immediately on guard. "Alright, what are you thinking?" she asks warily.

"Well, a blog for Chat Noir is actually a brilliant idea. And just because I can't run it doesn't mean someone else can't. Someone who happens to know the best reporter in Paris, and who also got to speak to Chat Noir face to face numerous times"

Marinette balks. "Alya, I couldn't. I'm always late for school as it is, and I don't have your way with the internet."

Alya bumps her with her shoulder. "Yeah, but your grades haven't suffered any. They've only dipped recently because of the heavy workload, but that's over and done with, so you'll be fine. And really? My 'way with the internet'? Girl, nobody has a 'way' with the internet. You just get on and start posting, and eventually, people will follow."

The pigtailed girl is still hesitant. "I don't know, Alya."

The blogger smiles, patting her friend on the back. "Just think about it, okay?" Standing up, she turns to Marinette. "Hey, how about we take a walk? I heard Adrien-"

"-Is having a photo shoot at the edge of the Seine!" Marinette finishes excitedly, relieved at the change of subject, and delighted at the thought of catching Adrien's shoot. The opportunity to see her crush, as well as new designs? "Let's go!"

Grabbing her best friend's hand, she drags her from the park towards the river, the blogger laughing as she stumbles after her.

Adrien can't remember the last time a day's gone this rough.

They had left just in time to get caught in the worst traffic jam ever. By the time they arrived, they were almost an hour behind schedule. His feet had seemingly become magnetic overnight, catching ledges, cords, curbs, even other people's legs. He's tripped, stumbled, fallen over everything, and they had to redo almost every shot numerous times. He dropped his phone, cracking the screen, and halfway through the shoot, a pigeon had emptied it's bowels on the shoulder of his shirt, so they had had to wait for a replacement, putting them either further behind. He had seen Marinette and Alya, which was nice, but he had been whisked away for fencing before he had a chance to talk to them.

He sighs, closing his bag and leaning against the wall. Fencing had gone a little better, his skill compensating for his day's terrible luck, but he had still managed to trip over nothing as he lunged, twisting his ankle. Luckily (or more appropriately, less unluckily) it wasn't bad, but it was enough to force him to stop early, leaving him with a slight limp, his ankle tender.

Sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, he checks to confirm he's alone before drawing Plagg out of his bag. The small black kwami had been unusually reserved all day, void of any sarcastic remarks or teasing. Most concerning is that he had barely touched his cheese. It was camembert. His favourite. Nothing stopped Plagg from eating his cheese.

Cradling Plagg in one hand, he reaches into his bag, drawing out the wedge of cheese. Holding it in front of Plagg, he offers it to him silently. Plagg looks at it sadly, taking a small bite before pushing it away with a small paw.

Something is definitely wrong.

Putting down the cheese, he moves to cradle the kwami in both hands. "Hey, bud, what's going on? You alright?"

Plagg sits up in his hands, ears drooping. He's avoiding Adrien's eyes, fidgeting with his paws, and his tail is curled tensely. It's something he only does when he's scared, or nervous.

Adrien can't tell which it is. It might be both.

"Adrien, there's something I need to tell you."

Adrien's surprised. Plagg has never, ever been nervous to tell him something. Even if it's rude, or offensive, or ridiculous, or just plain weird, he's always spoken his mind without censor. He nods silently, unsure of what to say.

Plagg takes a deep breath, before beginning. "Last night, I was woken up by a feeling in my gut. I thought I might have imagined it at first, or it was just a weird ache, but when I tried to contact Tikki, I couldn't."

Adrien's brows furrow. "Tikki? Who's Tikki?"

"Ladybug's kwami. In all ways but physical, she's my other half."

"I take it you know each other well, then?"

Plagg laughs weakly. "Know each other? Kid, we were the original two miraculous. We were created together. We were created for each other. We've been working together for millennia." His demeanor drops again, ears drooping. "Or at least we used to"

"Used to? What do you mean, 'used to'?"

Plagg looked at him sadly. "Adrien, Chat Noir was decommissioned last night"

Adrien feels his stomach drop. "What?! What do you mean, decommissioned?"

"I mean, the bond between me and Tikki is gone. I'm sure you've noticed how your luck has so quickly deteriorated? Without the bond, there's nothing to counteract Chat's bad luck, so you're feeling the effects. I don't know why, but the only way that could happen is if the coffer that contains the Miraculous has been altered in some way. Which can only be done by the Miraculous council."

"The who?"

"The Miraculous council. They're responsible for the assigning of the miraculous wielders, as well as monitoring the wielders to make sure they haven't gone renegade or corrupt."

Adrien goes pale. "Do they think I've gone renegade? Do they think I'm trying to hurt civilians on purpose?"

Plagg shakes his head. "The council would understand that the collateral damage was unavoidable. Half the time it was the civilians own fault. So they wouldn't decommission you for that."

"Then why?"

Plagg fidgets, dropping his gaze. "Well, I have a possibility in mind. One that I don't think you'd like."

Adrien tenses. "Just tell me"

"Just don't flip out, okay?"

"Plagg"

Plagg jumps out of his hands "Alright, alright. Kid, I think you've been replaced"

The silence that follows is almost deafening.

Eventually, the teen finds his voice. "...Replaced? By who?"

Plagg shrugs sadly. "That, I don't know. But I can sense another being that I've never sensed before. A powerful one."

"More powerful than you? Is that why we've been replaced?"

"I don't think so. It's not more powerful than us, necessarily, but it is definitely different."

Adrien sighs, dropping his head to rest against the wall. "So what happens now?"

Plagg drops down to sit on his knee. "I don't know. You'll probably have to give up your ring to the council. And then go back to live your life as you would normally. And not tell anyone."

"Great. What about you?"

Plagg shrugs "Who knows? My powers will be removed, but I'll still be me. I'll end up sitting around eating cheese for the rest of my life."

"I thought you were immortal?"

"When I have my powers. Without them, I'm essentially a normal cat. And, like normal cats, I'll die eventually."

Adrien feels a lump form in his throat. "Plagg..."

The black kwami rolls his eyes, a good sign he's somewhat back to normal. "Don't get sappy on me, kid. I've had a good run. It would've happened eventually. Maybe the council will let me stay with you for my retirement."

Adrien laughs, imagining himself as an old man with an elderly Plagg still demanding cheese. There could be worse things. But that laugh drops quickly as a though occurs to him. "But what about Ladybug?"

Plagg considers the question. "I imagine she's already been bound to the new Miraculous. So their powers and abilities will start to influence each other. The wielder of the new miraculous will start to get luckier, and Ladybug will start to become influenced by whatever powers the new miraculous holds."

Adrien's about to respond when a sudden wind blows through the room. Which is odd, considering the windows are closed. He looks up, and almost jumps when he sees what appears to be a grey screen made of fog above him. It gets thicker, and suddenly a hooded person with grey eyes is peering down at him.

"Hello, Chat Noir"

Adrien scrambles to his feet. "Who are you? How do you know I'm Chat Noir?"

The man laughs. "You will refer to me as Victor. I am here to inform you that by order of the Miraculous council, you have been decommissioned."

Adrien narrows his eyes. The man, Victor, has an edge to his voice that isn't friendly. It's sly, and somewhat triumphant, as if he's gotten something he wanted and is just waiting for it to be delivered. "I am aware, Mr. Victor. My kwami has just informed me."

Victor doesn't seem fazed by Adrien's curt tone, or maybe he simply doesn't notice. "Excellent! That makes things much simpler, and saves me from having to explain. We will be sending a representative to collect your Miraculous within the next few days. Until then, please refrain from transforming into Chat Noir. It will make the transition process much easier."

Adrien already feels like punching the man, but he takes a deep breath. Considering the screen is made of mist, it likely wouldn't do anything anyway. He forces a neutral expression on his face. "Alright." He says shortly, not trusting himself to hold his tongue for anything else.

Victor clasps his hands together, looking pleased. "Well, it's nice to see that you're civil, at least. Do you have any questions for me before I go?"

Adrien's about to say No, I have no questions, please leave before a nagging in the back of his head stops him. Instead, he asks "Does Ladybug know about Chat being replaced?"

Victor looks at him questioningly. "Of course. She agreed to it."

Adrien feels his heart jolt. His Lady agreed to have him replaced? Was she really that upset with him? No, that had to be a lie. She needed him, didn't she?

As if sensing his doubt, Victor pipes up "I have a recording of the conversation, if you need proof."

Adrien doesn't say anything, but Victor proceeds anyways, waving his hand and bringing up another screen. This one shows a pink room with a young teenage girl clutching a towel to her chest. Her face is obscured, but he would recognize those pigtails anywhere. He hears a recording of Victor's voice ask 'So you, Ladybug, agree to instate the new miraculous as a new partner?'

Adrien stares at the girls concealed face, watching as she responds with a 'Yes, I agree'.

He wants to believe that it's a lie. That he's being tricked somehow. But that voice is too familiar, too distinct to be confused for anyone else.

He feels tears prick at his eyes, but her refuses to cry in front of Victor. Something tells him he'd almost enjoy that, and he won't give him that satisfaction. "Alright, Victor. No more questions." He swipes a hand through the mist before Victor can respond.

The room falls silent, the last wisps of the mist dissipating into thin air. Adrien leans his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling, before a gentle pressure on his shoulder catches his attention. He looks to see Plagg very timidly offering him a piece of his cheese. Smiling sadly, Adrien takes it, popping it in his mouth before rubbing his eyes tiredly. Opening his over shirt, he allows Plagg to fly in, just as he hears Nathalie call him. He reaches down, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and leave the room, closing the door behind him.

The night is dark.

Victor sweeps through the streets, sticking to back roads and alleys to avoid being seen. Or followed. He makes one turn, and then another, finding himself in front of a semi-detached house on the outskirts of the city. Checking that nobody is watching, he climbs over the fence, landing silently on the other side. Walking to the back door, he taps the lock with a finger.

The lock glows briefly, and the sound of a bolt moving can be heard. Quietly, he tests the door, and it swing into the house. Moving quickly, we walks through the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the furthest bedroom. A teenage boy lies in his bed, a tuft of long brown hair sticking up on end.

Victor examines the room. Plastered on the walls are posters for various American football teams, Denver, Texas, New York, as well as numerous muscle cars. A helmet and full suit of gear sit on a chair at the end of the bed. The desk is covered with assorted papers, as well as Football trophies and model cars. An American flag hangs proudly from the doorway of the closet. Quietly, he sets the box containing the golden brooch on the desk, before looking at the young teen and smiling. Quickly leaving the house, he taps the lock again, replacing the bolt, before clambering over the fence again and walking off.

Klaus. The name means victory. And who better to wield the Eagle miraculous than an American, who holds the eagle as it's national animal?

He smiles wickedly. Hawkmoth won't know what hit him.