#tw for zombies (kinda sorta) and general catacomb gloom

[rosie-b]

Centuries Overdue

Chapter 6

Thank you @acise and @nireu-art for creating such cool art for this chapter! You can find and reblog their pieces from here and here, respectively :D

Now, where did we leave off? Oh right, Marinette is trapped in the catacombs by Adrien's corpse. How quaint : )

Happy reading!

A skeleton was collapsed by the tunnel just to the right of the one she’d emerged from, and there was an old leather journal a half a meter from its outstretched hand.

Marinette trembled; she knew that this was definitely not part of the tunnel system on the tour. No, no one was supposed to come here at all, and the last person who did…

To keep her wobbly knees distracted from giving out, Marinette stepped over to the book and picked it up, brushing a layer of dust off its cover and squinting at the title in the low light.

There was nothing on the front cover, or on the spine. She cracked it open, gingerly, just like she always did at the library.

The Tenth Journal of Adrien Agreste, she read, and then she did collapse, falling to the floor and landing hard on her kneecaps. 

“Oh, come on,” she moaned, clutching the book’s pages tightly as her gaze darted towards, and then very quickly away from, the skeleton next to her.

This was possibly the worst-case scenario for this trip. Zombies would be the real worst case, but they were only attracted to Mages, and Marinette was not a Mage. So at least she would die in peace, surrounded by abandoned tunnels and right beside her favorite author, instead of running for her life from humanoid shapes made of darkness.

Her breath shuddered through her mouth as her entire body twitched erratically. Marinette closed her eyes and breathed in deep through her nose, trying to listen for the murmurs of her group, for anything, really, to keep herself calm and give her even just a fool’s hope.

There was nothing.

She opened her eyes as a tear escaped from them.

I’m so sorry, Alya. I should have listened to you.

Marinette wasn’t sure how long she sat there, listlessly thumbing the book’s fragile pages, not caring whether they chipped or crumbled into dust. Eventually, the feeling of her phone in her back pocket made her uncomfortable enough that she shifted her position. She pulled it out of her pocket and sat criss-crossed as she turned the screen on and stared at the time.

20:14. The tour was supposed to be over by now.

Marinette frowned. Couldn’t she get just one bar of service? Enough to send a call through to the surface and get help? It felt cruel that she was so awake and alive, capable of walking through the tunnels, if not navigating them, of walking up 112 stairs and going back to the surface like any other visitor today, yet even though she was perfectly healthy, in a few days she’d be dead.

Days. It would be a slow, painful death, all alone except for a skeleton and her thoughts, which were already turning against her.

She also had a book, one written by a dead man, but what else was new.

Marinette set her phone on her lap and opened the journal up again, giving the title page another glance. She hadn’t known that there was a tenth journal; Alya hadn’t talked about it, and while Adrien had mentioned a book of spells in his ninth journal, she’d thought he was talking about one of the other books he’d written, and that he’d forgotten to take it with him on his final journey.

Apparently not. The book she was holding was labeled “Book of Spells (III)” in Adrien’s handwriting, so he had taken it with him, after all. Now, it would serve as Marinette’s only entertainment while she figured out whether to venture out in the dark beyond the concourse and get even more lost or stay here, where not even the Mages had managed to venture before.

Marinette flipped to a random page in the middle of the book. It was blank, so she flipped backward to just a few pages after the beginning of the journal and started to read, silently at first, but the quiet began to make her nervous after a while, so she read aloud.

“A spell of Tikki’s Mages.” Marinette was glad Alya had taught her the Mages’ code, so that she could understand the journal. Without it, she had a feeling that she would just go insane. “Being a spell to conjure an illness, that once it has infected the individual, will spread until he or she dies… nope. Okay, A spell of Plagg’s Mages, being a spell to conquer spreading illnesses.” She paused for a moment and snorted.

Plagg and Tikki were two paired kwamis, she remembered. They were practically soulmates, and apparently, the spells of one’s Mages would cancel the spell’s of the other’s. Wasn’t that funny? Apart, they were so powerful, but together, they were practically useless!

Marinette laughed until she gave herself a case of the hiccups, because everything was funnier when you were trapped and doomed to die in the exact same way as the person you’d promised not to go looking for, in the exact same room that they’d died in, from which their dead body was never recovered.

Okay, Marinette thought as her giggles abruptly sputtered out, that’s not very funny after all.

She returned her wandering attention back to the book. “A spell of Plagg… to place a most powerful and eternal curse,” she read, skimming through the introduction. “Well, that’s not very cheery. Tikki, what’ve you got? A spell to undo the strongest curse. Nice.”

As she began to read, she stretched her legs out in front of her, trying to stop her left foot from falling asleep. She tapped it against the ground a few times while she slowly made her way through the long spell, but that didn’t work. Annoyed, she broke the spell off and stood up, pacing around the concourse as pins and needles jabbed themselves into her foot.

“Now this is a curse,” she muttered. “Can’t a girl die in peace without her own body attacking her?”

She sighed and came to a stop by the corner where the light was coming from and noticed for the first time that there wasn’t a lamp there. There had been one in every other corner of the tunnels, at least the ones in the actual tour, but here there was no sign of a standard light source, only a pale, greenish ray extending from the limestone.

Marinette marched back over towards Adrien’s skeleton and let out a huff. She was not going to give in to fear now! The light was maybe just a remnant of one of Adrien’s spells. Maybe he’d gone off the path on purpose and lit some magic lamps as he went, to see where he was going. Maybe he’d forgotten to put a time limit on those spells, and accidentally led her astray with them and trapped her in here with him to die!

Marinette scowled at the pale bones jutting out from Adrien’s decomposing 19th century attire but reminded herself that it wasn’t his fault. He’d gotten attacked by a zombie or something, and hadn’t been able to save himself, and lost the chance to turn off the magic lights himself. Now they were just a danger to whoever managed the weird combination of turns Marinette had taken to get stuck here.

She had no one to blame but herself.

“A spell to undo the strongest curse,” she began again. “Tikki, spirit of creation, guide my thoughts and grant me luck. From dawn to dusk, and dusk to dawn; from sea to land and land to sea, creation, hear my desperate plea. What’s good is bad, and bad is good; what’s right is wrong, and wrong is right, but let the curse now come to light. Reflect the evil that’s around, and let goodness within abound, this wretched evil lift. Embrace what mortal man can’t touch, for all the world can’t cover up the monstrous half-known Gift. Mistake or madness, be undone; the endless battle shall be won when mercy’s light is in me found. For but a wish can now surpass the long reach of this Mage’s grasp, so let my spell fulfill its task. Only this do I now ask, a lucky charm for this poor lass, a miracle to me.”

There was a sudden burst of light from beside Marinette, white and hot, spreading out from Adrien’s skeleton in a ball-shaped form. Marinette closed her eyes against it, but she could feel its power even through her eyelids, and she felt a spike of fear. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she wondered whether Adrien’s spirit had heard her and taken offense at her reading of the spell which he had written. She clutched the book to her chest as the light receded and stood rigidly as she waited for something else to happen.

What if just reading a spell attracts zombies, even when you’re not magic? she wondered. What if they got mad and decided to turn Adrien into a zombie and now they'll all be coming to kill me?

That option sounded more realistic than Adrien coming back from the dead to chide her for reading his journal and didn’t do any good for Marinette’s nerves.

Just as suddenly as it had come, the light vanished. Marinette peeked one eye open, and not even the green light was still glowing. But slowly, the paler light returned, this time from a different corner. It made her more afraid, and she squeezed her eyes shut again in anticipation of what was to come.

A whimper escaped her mouth just as a groan arose from the ground at her feet.

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped at what she saw.

Adrien Agreste’s skeleton was not just a skeleton anymore. He had flash, and bones, and skin, and hair even, and he was moving, oh fuck, he was moving! He was reaching out his hand, he was getting closer, he was almost touching her!

Marinette screamed.

Adrien looked up at her. Instead of darkness or a bloodshot, wrathful gaze like she was expecting, his eyes were green, and warm, and very confused.

He opened his mouth, but looked surprised, and turned away to cough into his elbow. Then he pushed himself up to a crouch, and very slowly stood up, swaying on his feet as he looked back at Marinette.

He was unfairly handsome for a guy centuries older than her. He was unreasonably handsome, actually; he was supposed to be just a skeleton! He had just been a skeleton only minutes ago! Seconds, even!

As she stared at the full-on suit Adrien now seemed to be wearing, Marinette decided that he didn’t really seem all that murderous. He didn’t seem like he was possessed by evil zombies. He didn’t even seem like he was going to lecture her for stealing a dead man’s book and reading it out loud beside his helpless, dusty body. 

Actually, maybe Adrien was just a near-death hallucination. She’d heard that those were common.

Maybe she should say something to him, because hallucination or not, this was getting awkward, and there was only so long she could keep staring into his gorgeous green eyes while keeping her cool.

“Good evening. You’re Adrien Agreste, right?”

Adrien blinked, and his brow furrowed adora— no. Not adorably. Not remotely cute at all!

Marinette cleared her throat and tried again in English. “Hello?”

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “What does that mean?” he asked in French. 

Marinette had been trying for a response of some kind, but when it came, she found that she was so startled all she could do was take a step backwards.

His voice sounds surprisingly good for someone who’s just been reanimated, she thought, and furiously scolded herself for thinking that.

Adrien blushed. “I recognized the first thing you said, mademoiselle, but I was unable to speak just then. I apologize. What language is ‘hello?’”

Marinette blinked several times in quick succession and decided to focus on the least crazy thing. “Hello? Like, bonjour , but in English? You don’t know that word?”

Adrien shook his head. “I’m afraid not, mademoiselle. I also fail to recognize the style of clothing that you’re wearing. Please, could you tell me how long it’s been since I entered the catacombs?”

Marinette coughed. “Too long for me to believe any of this is real, honestly.”

Adrien shrugged. “That’s fair enough; it’s only rarely that a Mage as powerful as you is born, so it wouldn’t surprise me if a few centuries have passed. I wasn’t expecting to be resurrected at all,” he admitted with the air of a man who had watched the sun set and was extremely (but pleasantly) surprised that it had risen again the next day.

Marinette felt the need to correct him. “I’m not a Mage,” she said. “I’m just a normal girl. I got trapped in here maybe half an hour to two hours ago; it’s been a while since I checked my phone. I think I dropped it when you woke up. You scared me, you know! It’s not every day you get a near-death hallucination, and I wasn’t expecting mine to come for a while— maybe the air quality is worse down here than I thought.”

Adrien let out a long sigh. “It seems that language has changed a lot since I was last alive,” he said. “You have a device on you that tells the time, but you dropped it? Is that right?”

Marinette nodded.

Adrien took a step back and bent down. When he straightened, he was holding her phone in his hand. 

“I’m very sorry; I stepped on it by accident. Will it still work like this?” he asked, offering it to her.

Marinette took it from him, and her stomach flipped. This hallucination had been going on for a while, and she was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t one, after all.

“It’s still good. And it’s only been an hour.”

Adrien nodded and smiled, looking rather confused by the phone and its screen, though he didn’t say anything about it.

“Only an hour, that’s good for you! As for me, could you tell me what year we are in, please?”

Marinette slid her phone back in her pocket, slowly, as her hand trembled. “2023, if I remember correctly. I could be wrong.”

Adrien closed his eyes, and the muscles in his face twitched. “It has been longer than I thought, then. I’m sure I will have trouble adjusting to the new millennium, but I must thank you that I even have the opportunity to do so. Now, let’s return to what you said earlier. If you are not a Mage, then how was I resurrected?”

Marinette frowned. “I don’t know. I really don’t know what’s going on, and I haven’t since I got lost and accidentally left the main tunnels. If this goes on for much longer I think that I’m going to either faint or scream or both.”

“Hmm. Pardon me for asking, mademoiselle, but how did you get lost?” 

Adrien had turned his gaze back to her; his sharp green eyes pinned her in place. She gulped as she began to tell her story, starting slow but talking faster and faster as she grew more nervous under Adrien’s gaze.

“I came on an official visit, but got distracted. I fell behind the tour group I came with and took a wrong turn, and then probably did it again, because I’ve never been down here before and I was totally lost. There were lanterns lighting up a path away from the dead end I’d found, but they just led me here, not back to the group. They also turned out not to be actual lanterns, which is embarrassing but kind of scary. I still don’t know where the light’s coming from,” she said, glancing towards the corner where the murky green light started. “It led me here, and then the tunnel fell dark behind me. I don’t even remember which one it was now. Then I saw you, uh, your skeleton, and I was panicking, so I picked up your journal and read it, and there was a flash of light, and you know the rest, I think.” She gestured helplessly. “I still think I might be hallucinating, or I wouldn’t be so calm. If this is what dying’s like, at least it’s not so bad; I mean, I get a hot guy to look at and everything!”

Adrien tilted his head, considering the long string of words she’d just vomited. “It might be for the best that I don’t know what that phrase means,” he said with a shy laugh. “I’m going to assume that it means my presence is calming to you since you haven’t seen another human in a while, yet it is unnerving at the same time because you think it means that you are dying. Good news; you are not dying— yet.”

Marinette swallowed hard and stared at him. Adrien offered her a tiny, not-so-reassuring smile and kept talking.

“More good news; the fact that you were able to resurrect me by reading the spells from my book is proof that you are, in fact, a Mage! One of Tikki’s Mages, and a very powerful one at that! So, with any luck, we might survive this. If you don’t believe me, mademoiselle, I have further proof to offer you: the lights you described are the same ones that led me astray over two hundred years ago. They are part of an elaborate and everlasting curse which was specifically meant to affect me alone, the one which led to my demise."

"However, Plagg and Tikki’s Mages share a bonded magic, with each group bearing one half of a whole Gift. Because you are a Mage of equal power to me, the curse affected you through that bond, which recognizes Plagg’s Gift to me and Tikki’s Gift to you as two parts of one whole and allowed the curse to affect you in just the same manner as it did me.” Adrien smiled sheepishly at Marinette as her mouth fell open and she stuttered out little aborted attempts at responding. Then he blinked, and his face sobered. “Ah, and if you can permit one more question, I have another one! You insisted you were not a Mage before, but then, you didn’t seem surprised at all to hear that I thought you were one. Do you know what they are, what magic is, or kwamis?”

Marinette was shocked. “I, uh, yes, that is, I do! I know a bit about kwamis, and a bit more about magic and Mages, but I was tested by quite a few of those, and I really don’t think that I am one! I failed all their tests,” she said with a nervous laugh.

Adrien frowned. “The only way that a curse as powerful as the one placed on me could have been lifted was if one of Tikki’s most powerful Mages read a specific spell from my book, the one that you’re still holding, mademoiselle, and the one you read from just before my sudden and unexpected revival. So, regardless of the tests you ‘failed,’ I am very certain that you are a Mage. Now; you reversed the curse which killed me, and you know about magic, and so you must know by now that this is all real. You are not hallucinating, you did not dream getting lost or finding my body or coaxing life into it again. But tell me, the light which you described— is this a new one, or is it the same as the one that led you astray before? It took a while for my eyes to adjust, or I would already know the answer, but I do not, sadly,” Adrien admitted.

Marinette pursed her lips and turned, considering the eerie light. “I think it’s a new one. The light used to come from a different corner before you woke up.”

“Before you resurrected me by undoing the curse which killed me,” Adrien corrected. “Which I am forever indebted to you for, mademoiselle. I know of no way to repay you, but I will do my best.”

Marinette turned as red as a tomato at the attention. “N-need you no,” she stammered. “Uh, I mean, thank you! You really don’t need to worry about it, though!”

Then she froze as a thought formed in her brain, which seemed to be lagging as it processed the fact that what she’d thought (almost hoped) was a hallucination was real life.

The spell she’d cast was supposed to undo curses… but who had cursed Adrien?

A vague memory entered Marinette’s mind from the very start of her internship at the library. Curse Adrien Agreste for choosing these books to write in…  

Oh, no. This was all her fault, wasn’t it?

Wringing her hands together, Marinette blurted out, “Oh, no, the curse! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to kill you! I really didn’t even know I could use magic until you got resurrected, I swear!”

“Oh, you aren’t the one who cursed me, though I would like to examine that fear of yours more closely in the future. It was my parents,” Adrien said nonchalantly, taking the book out of her arms and flipping forward a few pages. “Or rather, what’s left of them.”

In the distance, a loud noise like metal being torn sounded, and Marinette's stomach dropped.

“What was that?” she asked, taking a tiny step closer to Adrien.

“Excellent question. I was trying to figure it out before my untimely death but I didn’t make much progress. The best description I have is darkness, mockingly crafted into the form of a human being.”

Oh, so the magic zombies woke up after all. Great.  

“They can sense us,” Adrien was saying, snapping Marinette out of her panicked spiraling. “We’re both Mages, and if I’m right, our magic gives off a signal that they can follow. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this! They should know better than to go after young maidens.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, well they already tried to kill my friend, Alya, so they must not have gotten the memo.”

Adrien turned, looking at her with sorrow in his eyes. “I apologize. It is always a tragedy when evil grows bold enough to challenge us unchecked. I blame myself for not putting an end to the Darkness sooner. I should have seen it for what it was.”

Marinette felt something spark in her chest. “Hey, no, you don’t get to blame yourself for that! How were you supposed to know your parents could turn into weird, dark magic zombies? I know how hard you fought to destroy the Darkness, and I know how much you lost because of it, and how much you never had the chance to have at all. You’ve done more than anyone else to stop this Darkness. And if…” her voice trailed off as the sounds got louder, still not as loud as the thump-thump of her heart in her ears, though. 

If you couldn’t do it, then who can? She felt bad for thinking it, and guilty for the pain she was about to cause Alya. Marinette swallowed and clenched her fist at her side as her thoughts tugged her down a dark path. She hadn’t listened when she’d told her to stay home, she hadn’t listened to her suspicions that she was a Mage; she’d gone to the catacombs by herself instead, and now she was going to pay the steep price for her folly.

A light touch at her wrist stirred her mind out of its spiral. She startled, turning to look at Adrien, who pulled his hand back from hers and offered her a small smile.

“You’re right that I fought them before with all I had. But we’re going to have to give them one last fight,” he said calmly. “We’re going to give the effort everything we’ve got. And if it doesn’t work, if we don’t make it out of here, then allow me to say that I am honored to go down fighting beside someone as strong of heart as you are.”

Marinette stared up at him. “I— I’m not really what you think,” she whispered. “I’m not a true Mage. And I know that I’m not a fighter. I’ve never faced anyone the way we’re going to have to, when they find us here. I can’t do it,” she said bitterly, shaking her head.

Adrien looked down at her with something like guilt in his eyes. “I told you, your magic is equal to mine. You might not know how to fight, but you can read a spell, and this book has plenty of them. I swear, I will do everything I can to protect you, but you’re going to have to help me if you want to make it out of here alive,” he spoke in a rush. The footsteps were getting louder. He reached out, slowly enough to broadcast his movements, and took her hand in his, squeezing it as if by doing so he could pass his own strength on to her. “I understand if you want nothing to do with me, but won’t you stand with me this once? You’ve already proved your strength by resurrecting me, mademoiselle— uh. Actually, may I know your name?”

Marinette found it was hard to refuse Adrien when he was looking at her with such an earnest, soft expression. “Marinette,” she whispered. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Adrien raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “Nice to officially meet you, Marinette. My name is Adrien Agreste,” he said, and her lips twitched up into a smile.

“I know.”

A light blush spread over his cheeks. “Oh right, my name was in the journal. Which you’ll be needing again, so here, take it!” He handed it to her, and she gingerly accepted it. 

“Do you really think I can do this? What if the first time was a fluke?”

He raised an eyebrow. “No spell that powerful could ever be done by accident, if that’s what you mean. It will work, I promise.”

Marinette took a shaky breath. “Okay. Then I promise that I’ll try.” It was the least she could do, at this point.

Adrien nodded, satisfied. “It’s open to a spell that should offer us some protection, once you speak it. I’ll distract the first… beings, for as long as I can. And, Marinette?” Adrien turned that same earnest expression to her, and she couldn’t look away. “Believe in yourself. You’re more powerful than you know.”

The tunnels surrounding them lit with a pale green light, and Adrien stepped in front of Marinette, holding his hands out in a defensive stance.

“Plagg, claws out.” 

A richer green light flashed around him, and a staff appeared in his hand. 

The first zombie stepped into the room with them, and before Marinette had a chance to take in its mockingly human features, Adrien was already attacking it, lashing out with his staff and forcing it back before moving on to the next zombie. Now that the first one was down, the rest poured into the room quicker, and though Adrien did his best to hold them back, he couldn’t be everywhere at once, and there was no place for Marinette to hide in the midst of the fight.

Under the eerie light of the tunnels, she traced her finger over the words of the spell Adrien had left his book open to. She didn’t feel ready to try magic again, but Adrien was counting on her, and even if she wasn’t a powerful Mage like he’d thought, she owed it to him to try and help.

“Tikki, spots on.” A red flash briefly surrounded her, and suddenly, she was holding a yo-yo. It was red, with black spots, and as soon as the zombies saw that she was holding it, they began to attack more ferociously. A few of them made it past Adrien while he was fighting on the other side of the room, and Marinette’s heart pounded fearfully.

“Spin the yo-yo, it works like a shield!” Adrien called to her. A zombie grabbed hold of his arm while he was speaking, but he touched it with his right hand and called, “Cataclysm!” The zombie hissed and sparked with a black energy before seeming to dissolve. 

The other zombies wailed, a chilling, otherworldly sound that nearly paralyzed Marinette. But she did as Adrien told her to, and even though they rushed toward her in rage, none of the zombies made it past her shield. Turning this way and that, she held them off, occasionally whacking ones that got too close on the head. They never stayed down long, and as still more zombies poured into the room, Marinette felt despair well up in her heart.

“Cataclysm!” Adrien called out again, and this time he touched a group of zombies packed all together. All of them were affected by the spell’s power, and as they faded, a pocket of empty space briefly appeared around Adrien and Marinette.

“Is there another spell that can help us?” she asked him. Her right arm was beginning to feel the strain of constantly needing to spin the yo-yo for protection, and she had the journal tucked under her left arm so tightly that she could feel the imprint of its edges on her body. 

“There’s always another spell, but there’s always a consequence for it,” Adrien said, moving to stand back-to-back with her as the zombies closed in on them. “The most powerful ones in my arsenal would collapse the tunnels on us, and I’m not a master of Tikki’s own spells; I don’t know which ones would work in this situation.”

“But there must be something!” Marinette cried in panic. “Use Cataclysm on them again and buy us some time!”

Adrien obeyed, and another pocket of space opened up. Marinette took advantage of the short amount of time free from zombies to flip through the book and find an appropriate spell to use.

“Teapots, galette des rois, fork, stone, why are none of these spells helpful? What are they even for?”

Adrien shrugged and lunged forward to catch a zombie who was leading the third charge towards them. “Tikki’s Mages were never focused on war magic; they’re mostly pacifists. Otherwise, I think the last battle against the Darkness would have gone a bit differently,” he muttered. “No offense to them, of course! Creation is by its nature in conflict with that of war. And many of those Mages offered what help they could. But to use their spells effectively, they had to get creative .” He took the time to flash a smile at her before lashing out with another spell.

Marinette noticed that the zombies were getting closer to her again, and quickly resumed spinning her yo-yo shield. “Is now really the best time for puns?”

“Now is always the best time for puns,” Adrien retorted. “Cataclysm!”

Marinette rolled her eyes as her mind raced ahead, trying to come up with a solution. There was a short spell on the same page as the one Adrien’s ‘Cataclysm’ was on; like the others towards the front of the book, it seemed to be the opposite of Plagg’s spell, but it seemed like it might be useful to her. Unless, of course, it canceled out Cataclysm entirely.

“Adrien!” she called, still fighting off the endless surge of zombies attacking her.

Adrien turned to glance at her while keeping his own shield up. “What?”

“Do all my spells cancel out your spells? Like, if I use the one by Cataclysm, will the zombies you touched come back?”

Adrien wrinkled his nose. “Not necessarily. You would need to use the Miracle Cure for that, but even then, we’re fighting in tandem. Our powers should recognize that and work together, so—” he paused to fight off a particularly vicious pair of zombies, “—your magic should recognize the Darkness as what’s wrong. If you use the Cure, it would try to undo the Darkness, the ultimate cause of these beings, the zombies, as you called them. It is a fitting name for them,” he said. 

Marinette ducked as a zombie leapt towards her and turned to drive it back. “Really? How so?” She knew zombies didn’t always mean the brain-hungry monsters of television, but she was surprised that Adrien even knew what the word meant.

“Because they’re not just figures of Darkness! They were people, once, but they’ve been corrupted by magic, forced to serve the Darkness until they’re released from their bodies.”

“Until they’re killed,” Marinette gasped. The next zombie to attack her nearly succeeded in grabbing her, but Adrien rushed over just in time, cataclysming it and turning it into ash in front of her eyes. 

“They’re already dead,” he said mournfully. “In every way that really counts. And since it’s been so long, since they’ve been trapped in this hell for centuries, I think they would consider this a mercy, if they could think.”

A zombie wailed and hissed as he struck it with his baton and drove it back against the others. 

“What do you mean? They can’t think at all?”

“They’re possessed, Marinette. I still don’t know by whom, but they are. My own parents wielded the curse that killed me. If they were themselves, if they could think and resist, they would never have done that to their own son.”

Marinette gazed through the thin shield she’d created at the zombies on the other side. They truly seemed to be made of darkness, like they were humans that had become like black holes, impossible to look at for long except for when a flash of green light would trace around them and give them the illusion of features.

“Then how did you know they were your parents?” she asked.

Adrien didn’t respond. He called for another Cataclysm instead, clearing most of the room now that the zombies were so tightly packed together.

A fourth wave quickly appeared.

And this time, Marinette could see how Adrien had known it was them.

These zombies were not like the rest. They were not made of darkness, not entirely, at least. Their features were like that of regular humans, but their eyes were inky black, and they moved as if they were sleepwalking, as if this was just a dream, like she’d once thought. But many of them were coated in blood, brown and dry, that had once oozed from their heads, their chests, their necks.

The two leading the others looked like Adrien. The woman had light blonde hair, while the man’s was graying. Unlike the others, they didn’t seem to have any blood on them. If it weren’t for their eyes, she never would have known anything was wrong with them.

But the woman opened her mouth, and a gurgling sound came from her throat, like she was choking on water. They had drowned. They’d drowned, and their bodies were lost. They were here. 

They were possessed. They’d killed their own son.

Marinette felt sick. 

“A…drien,” Emilie Agreste said slowly, her jaw's movement like that of a gate long rusted shut, now being forced to open. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You should not be alive,” her husband agreed in the same unearthly voice.

Adrien’s spine stiffened. “Cataclysm,” he whispered, and held the glowing ball of destruction in his fist like a threat.

“Your magic will not save you,” Gabriel said, and his voice was growing stronger. “Nor will hers.”

“The Mages must die. You are a plague on the earth, and I have been far too kind,” Emilie hissed.

Marinette felt panic clawing at her throat. “Lucky Charm!” she called at last, remembering the words of the spell she’d found. 

Gabriel lunged forward and caught the object before it had time to finish forming. “Cataclysm,” he said.

The object turned into ash, and Marinette’s mouth went dry.

“I thought they weren’t Mages,” she whispered fearfully.

Adrien looked at her from the side of his eyes. “They weren’t,” he said. “Their curse gave them magic, somehow. They can use as many powers as they want. We can’t stop them.”

“We have to,” Marinette said desperately. Adrien stepped closer to her and took her free hand, squeezing it in his. 

“We will try,” he assured her.

The zombies still weren’t attacking, but Emilie gave them a beckoning wave, and they filed into the room, lining its walls and blocking off the other tunnels. 

Adrien and Marinette readied their shields. Emilie summoned a trompo and smirked at them in a way very unlike the gentle woman Marinette had pictured while reading her journals.

“Venom,” she called brightly.

Marinette was frozen before she knew what had happened. All she could do was gaze ahead in fearful awe, though her head seemed to be free to move, unlike the rest of her body.

Adrien groaned. Checking her periphery, Marinette could tell that he’d been frozen, too.

Well, there were worse things that could’ve happened, Marinette thought as she eyed Gabriel’s open fist.

“Your little game has gone on too long, Mages,” Emilie told them with a smile. “You should take some time to prepare for the end.”

The Agrestes turned to stand by the one open tunnel, like sentries guarding their post. The light in the tunnels turned from a sickly green to a brilliant white, and the darkness was gone.

Adrien murmured something hurriedly under his breath, and the stiffness keeping Marinette in place released. She staggered forward, and the zombies gave her a warning glare.

“Please don’t bother trying,” Gabriel sniffed from his place by the tunnel entrance.

Marinette turned back to Adrien, who was wincing and rubbing his arm.

“What did you do?”

“An adapted version of a spell,” he said. “I wasn’t sure it would work. I used a small curse to counteract Venom. It won’t be enough.” He eyed the tunnel warily as the room grew even brighter, until finally Marinette had to close her eyes against the scorching light.

Then it faded.

“There you are, little Mages,” the voice from before crooned. It filled the whole room; it shook the floor and the ceiling and seemed to echo on eternally. “Yield to me, and I will keep you alive.”

Adrien gasped, and Marinette cracked open her eyes. In front of them stood a huge being, bright white and pink, with six arms and five teal eyes. They had curved antennae and gauzy wings, and the brightness seemed to emanate from them. All around them, the tunnels dissolved, leaving a dark void like space, though the zombies remained, surrounding them in a large circle.

“It’s impossible!” Adrien cried. “From where are you drawing your power, that you can take this form? Only the kwamis may wield this much magic!”

The being offered them a grim smile.

“I am the eldest and wisest of the kwamis,” they said in a double-toned voice. “I am everything that was, and is, and will be. My power is infinite; to fight me is to bring about your own destruction. Yield, little Mages, that your lives may be spared.”

Written for @mlbigbang 2023