The Parisian sky was, as always, a hazy, morning-light-washed grey-blue.
The air was a mix of freshly baked croissants and the faint, damp scent of the Seine River, an experience that was both novel and dull for Jaden.
He rested his chin on one hand, sitting in the very last corner of the classroom at Françoise Dupont High School. This spot was perfect; he could take in the entire classroom's dynamics while maximizing isolation from unnecessary social disturbances.
His deep, dark eyes seemingly casually swept over the vibrant characters before him, but a subtle, inexpressible anxiety stirred within him.
"Why hasn't the plot started yet..." he silently grumbled. It had been almost a week since school started, and life was as bland as plain water.
It had been several weeks since he transmigrated to this colorful, yet secretly turbulent, Paris.
The process was so cliché that he couldn't be bothered to recall it—just a standard truck-delivery service, bringing him and his body here perfectly intact.
Fortunately, this world automatically arranged a reasonable identity for him—a transfer student from the East, complete with an arranged residence, and he was naturally enrolled in this high school.
When he first stepped into this trapezoidal classroom, he was slightly surprised. This design was practically tailor-made for an observer in the back row.
The antics of the first day of school now replayed in his mind like slow-motion frames.
Marinette, the blue-haired girl with cute pigtails, sat down in her usual second-row seat like a docile little rabbit.
However, a golden storm instantly swept in.
"Move, this is my seat."
Chloé, the mayor's daughter, stood like an arrogant peacock, chin held high, followed closely by her eternal sidekick, Sabrina.
"But... but I always sit here..." Marinette's voice carried a hint of bewildered grievance.
"Listen," Sabrina immediately stepped forward, acting as Chloé's most loyal mouthpiece. She pushed up her glasses and announced in a matter-of-fact tone, "New semester, new seats, new rules.
This is Chloé's seat. You, go sit with the new girl."
Sabrina's finger pointed to the first row on the right, to a girl with long, reddish-brown wavy hair and black-rimmed glasses—Alya.
Alya heard her name and clearly saw the bullying unfolding before her.
Without hesitation, she decisively stood up from her seat, walked a few steps to the middle of the aisle, and confronted Chloé.
"Hey, what's your problem? She was here first. Besides, is your name carved on it?" Alya's voice was clear and strong, filled with an undeniable sense of justice.
Chloé apparently didn't expect such an interruption, she paused, then scoffed disdainfully: "And who are you? If you want to go against me, you'd better think twice."
"My name is Alya. All I know is that bullying is wrong."
Alya didn't back down, her gaze sharp as an eagle. She didn't continue arguing with Chloé but turned, grabbing Marinette's wrist, who was still frozen in place. "Come on, ignore her. We'll sit over there."
Marinette's hand was held by Alya's warm and firm grip, and a warmth instantly spread through her body. She was half-pulled, half-dragged by Alya to the window seat in the first row.
After sitting down, Alya looked at Marinette seriously and said, "You can't always let her bully you like this."
"But... but it's hard," Marinette's voice still held a trace of lingering fear, "Chloé... she's always been like this."
"That's because no one dared to stand up! From today on, you have me." Alya patted her chest, her smile as bright as the midday sun. "My name is Alya, what's yours?"
"Marinette..."
The two girls' hands clasped, and a strong friendship was thus forged.
Jaden watched this standard opening animation from the back row, his heart unmoved, even a little amused. Everything was exactly as he remembered, not a single detail amiss.
He was like a spectator with a god's-eye view, watching a super high-budget immersive reality show.
His thoughts returned. Today's class was still the same. Miss Caline gently lectured on history from the podium, her voice like a lullaby.
The first-row seat in front of Chloé was empty; it belonged to Adrien.
"Seriously, why hasn't Adrien come to school yet?" Chloé complained softly to Sabrina, her voice filled with unconcealed disappointment and petulance. "It's been days!"
Marinette heard the name and curiously leaned into Alya's ear, whispering, "Alya, who is Adrien? He sounds important, for Chloé to be thinking about him for so long."
Alya lowered her voice, like a professional journalist with firsthand information: "Adrien, you don't mean you don't even know him? The famous fashion mogul, Gabriel Agreste's son! A super male model, the one who's always on magazine covers!"
"Gabriel Agreste?" Marinette's eyes instantly lit up, filled with admiration. "He's my most admired designer!"
"His son... to be involved with Chloé, he must not be some..." She didn't finish her sentence, but the expression on her face said it all.
Alya nodded in deep agreement, and the two exchanged a knowing look before turning their attention back to their textbooks, though their minds had long since wandered.
Jaden took all of this in, a faint curve playing on his lips.
These girls' thoughts were simple and direct, like colorful soda in a clear glass, easy to see through. He twirled the pen in his hand, his gaze once again drifting out the window, pondering how he could live more "comfortably" in this world.
Meanwhile, at the other end of Paris, in the Agreste Mansion, a modern fortress, the atmosphere was as cold as a displayed artwork.
Adrien sat expressionlessly at a large white desk, facing a tablet.
Nathalie, his father Gabriel Agreste's most capable assistant, stood nearby, conducting a "tutoring session" in her usual calm, unruffled tone.
"...According to the second law of thermodynamics, entropy always increases in an isolated system. What does this mean on a macroscopic scale?"
"It means chaos is the ultimate destiny of the universe." Adrien's voice was as flat as if he were reciting an instruction manual.
"Very correct, Adrien." Nathalie's lips moved almost imperceptibly, which was the highest degree of praise she could offer.
Just as she was about to continue with the next question, a tall figure silently appeared at the doorway.
Gabriel Agreste wore a perfectly tailored white suit, his silver-grey hair meticulously combed. He was like a walking marble statue, handsome yet utterly devoid of warmth.
"Take a break." His voice was low and authoritative. Nathalie immediately stopped, respectfully stepping aside.
Adrien looked up, and a flicker of emotion finally appeared in his emerald green eyes—a longing for freedom. "Father, I still want to go to school.
I want to be like... like normal people, and make some friends."
"The outside world is dangerous, Adrien." Gabriel Agreste's voice was devoid of emotion, as if stating an objective fact.
"But I don't feel it's dangerous!" Adrien's voice involuntarily rose. "Why can't I be like everyone else?"
"Why?" Gabriel Agreste slowly walked in front of him, his shadow completely enveloping Adrien. He couldn't tell his son the truth—because, soon, I will make the outside world truly dangerous.
He could only use another explanation, one he himself deeply believed.
"Because you are not like them," he looked down at his son, his tone unequivocal, "You are my son. You have everything here. You don't need those friends. Nathalie will teach you everything you need to know."
Adrien looked at Nathalie pleadingly, hoping she could say something on his behalf.
However, Nathalie merely lowered her gaze slightly and gently shook her head. She was powerless.
"Enough." Gabriel Agreste seemed to lose interest in the conversation. He turned and added, "Nathalie, ensure he completes his piano practice this afternoon."
With that, he walked out of the room with steady steps, leaving behind a suffocating silence.
Just as Nathalie was about to say something, Adrien suddenly sprang from his chair like a long-caged cheetah, rushing back to his room without looking back, slamming the door shut with a loud "bang."
The huge room was filled with everything a boy could dream of—a climbing wall, game consoles, a giant curved screen, a basketball hoop... But for Adrien, all of it was just decoration for this luxurious cage. He leaned his back against the cold door panel and slowly slid to the floor.
"Ugh, it's like this again." A small, complaining and lazy voice came from his jacket.
A tiny, pitch-black cat kwami flew out. It had large green eyes and was holding a small, pungent piece of camembert cheese in its mouth.
"Plagg." Adrien weakly called its name. "Can't you eat less cheese? The whole room smells like it."
"Please! Without camembert cheese, how can I have the energy to sigh with you here?" Plagg rolled its eyes, swallowed the last bite of cheese, and burped contentedly. "Seriously, kid, are you just going to let your control-freak dad keep you locked up here your whole life? This is even more boring than being sealed in a ring for a thousand years!"
"He's my father, Plagg." Adrien's voice dropped. "Ever since... ever since Mom left, he only has me left. I can't... disobey him."
He looked down at the silver ring on his right hand, his thoughts drifting back to a few days ago. That day, he was also playing the piano in the echoing living room, the notes flowing from his fingertips as lonely and sorrowful as his current mood.
Just then, a small black wooden box, carved with peculiar red patterns, appeared out of nowhere on the piano stool.
He curiously opened the box, and a simply designed silver ring lay quietly on the velvet cushion.
The next second, a dazzling green light flashed, and this destructive kwami, who called itself "Plagg," appeared before him, its first words being a demand for the best camembert cheese in all of Paris.
From Plagg, he learned about the miraculous, learned that he had a partner, and learned that he had been chosen to be the Black Cat, possessing the power of "destruction."
These past few days, he had tried. He secretly snuck out of the house, excitedly rushing to school, but each time, he was "escorted" back home at the school gate by the expressionless Bodyguard and the omnipresent Nathalie.
"Freedom..." Adrien murmured, the word sounding as distant as a fairy tale to him.
Plagg looked at his dejected expression and, for once, didn't complain, but simply floated over and rubbed its small head against his cheek.
Although it didn't say it aloud, it could feel the deep loneliness in the boy's heart.
On the other side, deep beneath the Agreste Mansion, was another entirely different world.
Gabriel Agreste walked down a cold metal corridor, passed an iris scan, and opened a heavy alloy door. Beyond the door was a futuristic underground garden.
Soft lighting simulated daylight, and meticulously cultivated green plants surrounded the transparent hibernation capsule in the center.
His wife, Emilie, lay quietly inside, her long golden hair spread out, her face serene as if merely sleeping.
Gabriel Agreste walked to the hibernation capsule, gently caressing the cold glass cover with his gloved hand. The icy aloofness in his eyes, which usually kept others at bay, now melted into an unyielding obsession and sorrow.
"Emilie..." His voice grew hoarse. "Do you see? Adrien has grown up, he's more and more like you. Don't worry, I'll soon... soon be able to wake you.
I will stop at nothing to obtain the miraculous of creation and destruction. By then, our family can be reunited."
Countless white chrysalises hung on the surrounding plants, trembling slightly, as if responding to his vow.
He took a deep look at his wife, then turned and walked towards a secret elevator in a corner of the garden, leading directly to the top floor of the mansion.
"Master, are you truly going to do this?" A faint voice came from his collar; it was Plagg, the butterfly miraculous kwami.
Gabriel Agreste did not answer, his gaze only growing firmer.
The elevator doors opened, revealing the familiar, huge circular room. Outside the glass dome, the entire city of Paris stretched out. Hundreds of thousands of pure white butterflies quietly rested throughout the room.
"Plagg, Akumatization!"
Purple light instantly enveloped him. When the light dissipated, he had transformed into the figure who would later strike fear into all of Paris—Hawk Moth.
He walked to the center of the circular window, closed his eyes, and began to sense the emotions of the city.
Anger, jealousy, sadness, disappointment... countless negative emotions flooded his mind like noise.
Suddenly, he caught an exceptionally strong emotion, mixed with suppression and an extreme longing for freedom. This emotion was so familiar... His gaze seemed to pierce through layers of walls, seeing the golden figure sitting on his room floor, his face full of disappointment.
It was Adrien.
Hawk Moth's movements suddenly froze. His hand, reaching for a white butterfly, stopped mid-air.
In a corner of his heart, the part named "father" struggled fiercely. He could Akumatization anyone, but he couldn't... couldn't lay a hand on his own son.
He abruptly pulled his hand back, the purple light in his eyes flickering erratically. A moment later, he deactivated his transformation, returning to the appearance of Gabriel Agreste.
"Today... that's enough."