(Mood Music: "Mother of Evil" - Abel Korzeniowski)

Darkness. Oppressive and absolute. Small, faint lights illuminated the metallic floor of a narrow corridor ahead. Stiff boots clanged as they made their journey along the alien, yet disturbingly familiar walkway.

A lone white butterfly led the way, glowing brightly, fluttering gracefully, displaying a calmness that seemed contradictory to its eerie surroundings.

Despite its height, the scaffolding was sturdy, and the individual finally reached the platform at the end, like a train inescapably moving down its tracks, unable to choose its own destination.

The quiet hum of machinery was the only sound that filled the silence in this new location. There was grass and greenery, and even more white butterflies that inhabited the area. A few more paces and there it was: a glass coffin. Or... some sort of medical pod? Despite being crystal, the surface was fogged up, obscuring the casket's contents.

One press of a button on the side panel and with a sharp click, hydraulic locks released the top, its hinges opening in perfect synchronization. Cold mist escaped from the edges, slowly dissipating to reveal what was inside of this mysterious capsule.

A motionless woman, with hair like moonlight, lay upon pure white velvet bedding as if in a deep sleep. The visitor reached in to hold the lady's hand, stroking the back of it with their thumb. A song echoed through the large chamber: a lullaby, gentle and sweet, as if sung by an angel.

With a sudden wheezing gasp, the woman's opposite hand flew across the way, snatching up her visitor's wrist. The individual tried to jerk backwards and break free, but the woman squeezed tighter, fingernails digging into flesh to keep the person in place. Her eyes popped open and she glared, then lifted her head at an unnatural angle, twisting her neck in a way that shouldn't be possible, like an owl honing in on its prey. The lullaby played over and over, notes overlapping each other like a broken record, reverberating loudly, incessantly, clamorous and mocking.

The visitor yelped in terror and reached up to push her away with their free hand. But upon touching the woman, a sickly blackness began to spread from their fingertips and onto the woman, engulfing her like cracks of crumbling earth.

"MOM!! NO!!!" a male voice shrieked in horror.

Dark, purple tears flowed down the woman's face as she gave him one last hollow smile before finally crumbling into dust. The visitor grabbed fistfuls of the coarse, almost soot-like powder, disbelief in their voice as they called for her and sobbed in dismay.

"MOM!!! I'm sorry!! I'm so sorry!!!" the young man screamed, dropping down to his knees. "MAMAN!!!"

Moments later, the ashes melted in his hands and turned into a blood-red liquid, which dripped down onto the floor and spread out, then began to rise up all around him like prison bars. Upwards it flowed, solidifying into barriers, and the visitor was surrounded. He banged on the walls of this newly formed room, but they closed in on him the more he thrashed, until it shrank so much that it encased him completely.

Desperation settled in, and the only sound was the ragged breathing of the trapped individual.

He cried for help.

No one replied.

Hours seemed to pass. His voice was raw. His body was stiff and aching. The space was too small to sit in. Beyond the cage was only emptiness.

And then a voice broke the silence, offering him a deal.

"A small favor, for your freedom. Agreed?"

The individual nodded, exhausted and helpless.

In an instant, the walls vanished from around him. Now clothed in a familiar black ensemble, he stepped forward to fulfill their end of the bargain.

Light footsteps approached from behind. The person turned.

It was a young woman. Someone he knew. Someone he loved.

Ladybug.

She smiled sweetly as she approached, then took his hands in greeting. She held them for a moment, then lifted them slowly.

Placing them around her throat.

She gave an encouraging squeeze around his fingers, directing him on what was to happen next. "Go ahead, Kitty. It's the only way," she instructed him, still smiling.

The young man shook his head. "N-no. I won't," he whispered.

"But don't you want to be free?" she tilted her head curiously.

"I won't do it," he insisted.

But he couldn't pull his hands away, and to his horror, his fingers began to squeeze on their own. She shut her eyes in discomfort, and he realized she could no longer breathe.

"STOP!!!" he yelled, trying to resist and pull away; but it was like his body was no longer his own. Ladybug's face became paler and paler and her lips gained a bluish tint.

He grunted and struggled, and with one last shout, he managed to let go. He stumbled backwards, catching himself at the last moment before falling. He breathed hard, trying to catch his breath, then looked up to see if Ladybug was alright.

She let out a small wheeze when she was released, but made no other sound or movements. She stood there, limp, emotionless. The young man waited for her to respond, to move, to do anything.

But instead, she became surrounded by dark, indigo smoke. It billowed and swelled around her, until it materialized into thick, thorny vines that wrapped around her body. Out of thin air, Hawkmoth, or someone who looked like Hawkmoth, appeared beside her.

No, not Hawkmoth. He wore the peacock miraculous too. He was now Shadow Moth.

Chat Noir tried to stand up, but realized he was being held down with vines as well. He fought against them, but they constricted and dug into his body painfully.

Shadow Moth placed a gloved hand under Ladybug's chin, yanking it up to face him.

"Since you denied her the mercy of a gentle death, I shall take care of it however I see fit." Then he unsheathed his sword. "How should we do it tonight, Adrien? Disembowelment? A slit throat?" He lifted his sword up to her neck to demonstrate, grazing the skin deep enough to leave a shallow cut, then tsk'ed in disapproval. "No no, too messy. I've been running out of ideas lately. How about getting crushed to death like the insect she is?"

He snapped his fingers and the vines pulled tight, squeezing Ladybug's body, and Chat swore he could hear a couple of bones snap. She cried out in pain, struggling to breathe, but put up no resistance. Chat Noir thrashed and pulled at his restraints, trying to summon Cataclysm, Black Hole, anything. He looked down at himself in confusion, only to realize that he was no longer transformed. He looked around for anything he could use, a weapon, anything; but there was nothing. As a last resort, he tried to beg Shadow Moth to spare her; but his voice was gone.

"Hmm, not quite. How about a clean stab through the heart? Simple, yet efficient. That seems appropriate for today."

The young man tried to shout in protest, but no noise escaped his mouth. He could only watch helplessly as Shadow Moth walked to stand behind Ladybug and readied his weapon.

"And now, for my favorite part—" the man said, pulling his arm back into a striking stance.

Then Ladybug let out a choked gasp, rivulets of red dripping from her lips as her gaze became empty and lifeless.

Adrien screamed.

(Continued in part 3)