The rooftops no longer felt like freedom.
They felt like a battlefield she couldn't leave.
Marinette crouched near the chimney where she'd first stood as Ladybug, the wind tugging gently at her pigtails. Her yoyo hung loosely from her hand.
"I can't do this," she whispered. "I wasn't meant to be her."
Tikki hovered beside her, soft and quiet.
"You were chosen, Marinette. That means something."
"It means someone made a mistake," she replied, voice sharp with frustration. "I'm clumsy. I almost missed Stoneheart's heart. And—Adrien was watching. I panicked. Again."
Tikki nudged her gently. "Mistakes don't define heroes. Growth does."
But it didn't comfort her—not really.
Marinette wasn't afraid of the villain.
She was afraid of not being enough.
The classroom buzzed with usual chatter, but Thorne barely heard any of it. He sat three rows behind Adrien, half-focused, half watching Marinette, who was staring at her notebook like it had betrayed her.
Zoé sat beside him, tapping her pencil lightly.
He could feel her eyes on him. Curious. Suspicious.
And for good reason.
"I saw you come back at 3 AM," she whispered as the teacher turned to write. "You were limping."
Thorne didn't respond.
"You've got secrets," she said. "But I'm done waiting for answers."
Still, he said nothing.
"You'll just follow me?" he thought bitterly.
He wasn't wrong.
Master Fu stood beside the glowing circle. The bracelet on Thorne's wrist pulsed, faint symbols flickering around it.
"A Miraculous of Balance is earned through hardship," Fu said. "The Kwami sleeps until it recognizes your soul fully."
"How many trials?" Thorne asked.
"Five. Each harder than the last."
A section of the mirror flared. Mission One: Compromise.
The villain was a man turned by anger—a former sculptor, now calling himself Miresteel, transforming anything he touched into jagged metal reflections of his past.
He was cornered in the tunnels, but just as Thorne prepared to strike, a cry echoed down the corridor.
"Help! Please—Thorne!"
Adrien.
How? Why was he even here?
A loose blast had collapsed a tunnel. Adrien was trapped under steel debris, bleeding, coughing.
Thorne's hand clenched.
Behind him—Miresteel was unstable. One strike away from detonating the support columns and killing a dozen officers above.
But Adrien would die now if he didn't act.
"Choose," the mirror's voice echoed.
Thorne's breath trembled.
He turned away from the villain—rushed to Adrien, hands glowing with his latent energy, summoning Balance's passive healing. Just enough.
Steel shifted. Adrien gasped.
"You... you saved me...?" Adrien murmured, dazed.
"I couldn't let you die," Thorne said quietly.
The tunnel shook.
Miresteel had escaped—but no lives were lost.
Back above the city, Master Fu waited.
"You chose the person over the threat," he said.
"I made a mistake," Thorne admitted.
Fu shook his head. "No. You made a choice. That's what Balance requires."
The bracelet shimmered. One symbol—Mercy—lit up permanently.
One down. Four to go.
She didn't expect company.
But when Thorne landed silently on the railing, she didn't scream—just blinked.
"I saw you today," he said. "You looked… crushed."
Marinette hesitated, then nodded.
"I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered.
Thorne tilted his head. "That's good."
"What?"
"Because those who think they know everything are dangerous."
She blinked at him, then—smiled. A real one.
"Thanks."
"I'll be around," he said. "For you. And for Adrien too."
"Are you—?"
He didn't answer. Just turned and vanished into the wind.
But that night, Marinette slept just a little easier.
And she wasn't the only one.