Skyfall - Adele
November 13th 2024
GOTHAM CITY
AFTER
MARINETTE
Flames everywhere.
Distant cries ring out.
Blood pools around her.
Red and black mixing in a private dance.
An insurmountable amount of smoke drifts through the air. Marinette's blood-stained hand tightens on the ripped material locked in her grasp, soiled with blood and debris the fabric only blends in with Marinette's mottled fingers.
An agonised scream rips itself from her mouth. The noise is promptly smothered by the overwhelming smog. Her shaking causes her vision to blur and Chloé's slumped form flickers in her line of sight.
Chloé groans, a glutaral sound that shakes Marinette to her core. Briefly it rips Marinette from the buzzing nose rendering her still. Using every last bit of strength Marinette crawls to Chloé a whimper leaving her mouth as her eyes trace the deep gash on her cheek.
"I...I'm sorry...I-I...I am so sorry," her apologies fall upon death ears as she pleads and whines over Chloé's still form. A trembling finger ghosts over the wound.
A strangled choke leaves the blond showcasing her bloodied teeth and causes the gash to stretch. Chloé's face contorts into an expression of abject horror as the pain and confusion hit her at the same time.
"Mari?" Chloé whispers her throat rippling in agony as her body punishes her for the words. Both woman taste metal and let out a staggering cry.
"...You were right...I am so sorry...I didn't listen...you-you were always right..."
BEFORE
LUKA
Panic brews in the place of elation.
Max hadn't met him.
Why hadn't Max met him?
Max always met him.
They had a plan, a solid plan with painstakingly woven steps and a library of backups.
Max had helped make the plan.
Max always made more behind the scenes.
Max always delivered.
But Max wasn't here and their plan had failed.
A misstep, a dire miscalculation has placed them all in jeopardy.
Victory had been so close Luka could have cradled her in his arms for but a moment. But victory had escaped his grasp and her gilded cage, likely laughing about arrogance and a foiled plan.
But Luka couldn't understand perhaps didn't want to. Max was always prepared, even Marinette was always one step ahead. Yet watching the colour drain from Marinette's face Luka feels as though the rug had been pulled from under them, crippling them from the inside.
An uncomfortable fear settles itself in his gut.
He only caught a glimpse of Chloé's ashen face before she turned and faced the large window her hands clenching and unclenching by her side. With her blonde locks tumbling in ringlets down her back and blue eyes filled with an undercurrent of terror, Luka momentarily feels guilty for ruining her previously celebratory demeanour.
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The Guild of the Forsaken
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