I made a promise to my friend (who also happens to be the first person who had gotten to read this story) that I would post both of the last chapters of Part I today and so, here I am. I also have exams so next week I won't be posting a chap anyways.

Enough from me. Enjoy these next two chaps <3

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"It's just a bead Luka!" she shouted back when he raised his own voice at her. Her heartbeat was becoming critically rapid and she couldn't understand why Luka was becoming more and more intimidating by the second.

"It's not a normal bead," he pointed to her brutally, "That is the mark of destruction."

All around gasps could be heard and from behind Luka, Alya let out a huge dreading, "No!"

"And that means-" his finger was still pointed at her accusingly but his voice faltered as the betrayal washed over him, "That means that you are in league with Destruction."

"No!" She shook her head, holding onto the necklace, close to her chest as if it was her heart, "I'm not, Luka. You have to understand what you are accusing me of. I am not in league with him. How could I be when I know what he did to your arm? When you told me just what he means to you?"

She recalled the stories he had told her of his first hand experience dealing with Destruction. He would tell her when she tended to his arm, experimenting with ways to at least fade something, anything. 

Luka had become obsessed with trying to remove any trace of injury. For it felt like he was being mocked by the other God, that he was being played like a puppet because Destruction had already threaded his power into Luka, no matter how little or insignificant it may have seemed. 

He had told her about how he had been left in a coma for almost 5,000 years, and even if it was a long time ago, he still remembered the devastation of waking up in a millennium so different from the one he had been in, all because she hadn't been there. And because of the stories he had told her, because of her understanding that, to him, Destruction was more than just the other side. More than just the enemy of his realm. To Luka he was the epitome of bad luck and all that was wicked. She would not do something like this to him (not knowingly anyways).

Now Marinette could not know from her own experiences what Destruction was like. She did not know if because of the clear detestable feeling that spread throughout Luka's soul, it caused him to exaggerate the stories. Maybe they were all true to the exact details he had given. But Marinette thought Luka would trust her enough to realise she would never do what he had accused. 

Like Luka, a feeling of betrayal bled deep into her chest as she realised that he didn't trust her.

"BRING HER TO ME!" A prospering voice echoed around the stadium from the exact spot where a throne made just for the Emperor sat.

Marinette's whole body trembled when Luka harshly grabbed her hand and she tried to push him away, the tears forming without even a seconds notice. How could he? How could he do this to her? She thought they were friends. And if she hadn't been mistaking it, she thought he liked her as more. Even if it wasn't the case, they had been much closer than even only a few months ago. 

But what was she really in the face of a hatred which persisted over 70, 000 years?

She took a step back but it happened too quickly and her foot caught onto the dress she had made just for this occasion. She let out a small cry of shock as her legs gave out and the dress teared and she fell on her knees. Still, she scrambled back trying to move away from everyone who was advancing on front of her. 

She knew it was useless, that the guards were closing in on her from all sides. Her chest heaved as she looked around her, feeling as constricted as the image that surrounded her. Staffs and spears stood tall in the hands of the Emperor's soldiers, and they were making quick procession as they marched towards her. The closer they came, the more confined she was. 

She felt imprisoned out in the open arena.

Luka glared at her as she tried to cover her face with her hands, not making any move to obey the order given, "You dare defy the will of the Emperor?"

Behind her hands the tears couldn't stop and the overwhelming feeling grew. Almost deliriously, she replied, "No. No- I- Luka please you have to believe me," and she cried. 

She couldn't hold back the sobs that ripped through her throat as she felt the world around her, the place she had called home, the people she had lived her whole life around. She knew that that world had come crashing down and instead of the warm, nurturing feeling of Soleria she loved to just... experience, instead the warmth had become too hot for her. And then it had burst expeditiously into violent flames. It wasn't licking at her skin lightly like a warm campfire she would light up and sit by on the particularly cloudy days which covered up the sun, but engulfing her as if she was something that must be devoured into nothing but ashes. 

She mourned the loss of the world that was once the one who loved and cared for her, now threatening to work against her. 

"Marinette," a soft voice that she had once seen as a safe place for her was back, "Look at me."

She could hear his familiar footing coming closer to her and, naïvely,  she thought that, all of a sudden, he had changed his mind. That he believed her. But she didn't look. She couldn't. She felt ashamed to. Not until she felt him crouch down on front of her and place a soothing hand on her knee. 

Only, it was a distortion of a reality she did not want to face.

When she looked up after a sudden burst of hope it wasn't the gentle look of understanding she had expected on his face. Her glistening face, drenched in the tears of her sorrow, fell with the hope that had risen in her chest before she looked at him. 

Never before, had Marinette thought she would be genuinely scared of Luka.

His face was stoic but she could see in his eyes how he looked at her as if all that she had done for him was nothing but a visage, there to mask the deceit and the lies that Marinette had kept to herself. An illusion better than even Alya could make. And at that point she just dropped her shoulders down in defeat knowing that with the God of War not believing her, no one would.

She couldn't respond when the guards hoisted her up and flew her to the area the Emperor resided at. Her body just stayed limp against the wind. She didn't even protest when they hauled her firmly onto her knees on front of the Emperor, her head just ducked, not wanting to look anywhere or at anyone. Their hands gripped so tightly onto her shoulders that Marinette thought that- if she had the chance to see it- her shoulders would be covered in red marks where their strong hands were, and even possibly several crescent shape wounds where their nails were digging in.

At the back of her mind she thought that maybe it would be a good thing that she will never have to see it. She felt disgraced by the way they held onto her, as if she was a patch of dirt they were ready to dig into. 

It was humiliating that they even made her feel that way.

It was wrong.

All around her the people were watching on with bated breath. Just minutes ago they had been cheering for the fairy, amazed at the impossible accomplishments she had fulfilled. Now they were looking on as she was accused of the worst. Disgust, outrage, pity, fear and everything in between was targeted towards her. Screams and slurs demanding for her head were heard all around, whilst other, more quieter pleas to hear her out were spoken- because even for the few who pitied her, they'd rather not be identified as someone who defended her. Those who knew Marinette personally, who had had the pleasure of being healed by her or who had their clothes made by her could not fathom how the sweet and young fairy had the ability to help the enemy who had shattered the peace of Soleria millennia ago. They still did not make a move to help, scared of the stance and action the court of officials who were sitting around the Emperor would agree on.

Some, like Luka, even wondered if everything was just a lie. A mirage she had created in order to work with everything Soleria detested, managing to stay under the radar for years. 

"Show me the necklace," the Emperor commanded.

Marinette's closed her eyes tightly as she shivered at the frostiness of his voice. She dared not look at him, scared that if she did, she would wither further into the ground before he could even give judgement on her situation.

One of the guards who had been holding onto her was about to lean down to rip the necklace off- not that they would be able to- but Luka spoke up, walking straight to her, "Let me."

"Yes my Lord," the gruff voice of the guard responded, moving back up to let the God do what he sought to do.

Luka once again crouched down to where Marinette was, but instead of any hope Marinette would have had, she just felt threatened. Her stance was utterly defeated but her mind was still on high alert, roaring and screaming at him to not come any closer.

Marinette felt something (she was pretty sure she knew what) on her chest start to become progressively colder but unexpectedly, it didn't cause her to shiver, in fact, her body seemed to welcome the cold. Compared to the flames all around which were inching dangerously closer to her, some even right on her shoulders and burning to the touch, the new cold feeling was like a cool layer protecting her from the extremities of the dilemma that surrounded her. Her eyes opened and she realised why. 

The jade was starting to glow a brighter green with every second, being an even lighter colour than the vine she had created to hold it. The light was blinding to anyone who looked at it, but to her, it was like a sun ray through the darkness of the clouds. It was what determined her not needing to build a fire, for she already had a light to guide and protect her. Marinette recalled what Adrien had said, "Then I can order it to bide time until I get there, by self destructing." To her, it was the sign of hope.

It was when it started pulsing, the light fading out and then back to life again, continuously on repeat, that Luka realised that something was wrong. He hoped it wasn't too late when he suddenly shouted at the others, "Move away from her now!"

Not ones to disobey their commander, they moved, but some, including the guards who had been holding her, not quickly enough. The glow became too bright before an enormous sound echoed around the entire place as a large explosion, as black as the cataclysmic power of Destruction, erupted in the area where Marinette once knelt. 

"NO!" the cry of the famous fox warrior was heard. It warmed Marinette's heart that at least someone still cared for her.

Luka managed to escape the explosion in time with only a few scrapes and abrasions showing any evidence that he had been right at the heart of the explosion, as he too watched in horror. Where Marinette once was, the cold blast had detonated and she was likely to have been reduced to nothingness. Not many fairy's could withstand the extreme negative temperatures that demons were adept to. Luka had ended up running right next to where the Emperor was, praying that even if it reached where they were, he would be hit with the brunt of the explosion, protecting his leader until the end as was one of his sacred duties being the God of War.

"That is most definitely the result of a cataclysm," the Emperor muttered, quite calm as he contemplated his next move. 

Luka found himself nodding at the remark, being one of the only other people in the Emperor's vicinity to properly recognise the signature power of Destruction. There were not many left from those who had been in the great war- many of the mortals involved died within the first or second millennium after (not that he had been awake to see them even go). Those who were immortals had either retired, been stripped of their livelihood due to committing heinous crimes, or there were some who felt fulfilled with their long life and decided the only thing they had left to do was pass into the afterlife. So there weren't many who could actually remember what Destruction's power was like. They only knew of what was told, what was written, what was interpreted. 

He just stood there, watching as the devastation he had been wishing would not come so soon, injured and killed several of his soldiers and guards, knowing full well he could do nothing to help them. Once they were touched, that was it.

When the smoke and debris and the tantalizing power that bewitched people with its bright and enticing light cleared up, there was still a figure right in the middle, knelt in the same position she had been in before. 

He sucked a breath in when he realised the figure was still moving, her shoulders shaking as her head was bowed towards the floor, "She's not-"

"SEIZE HER!" Luka flinched at the deafening shout from beside him.

And the guards were aiming to charge towards her, but Luka let out an order quickly, "Use your powers! Get her away from his mark before you come close!" and to show them, he conjured a powerful whip, as blue as his eyes and long enough to reach her, and controlled it to wrap around her arm, trying to ignore the cry she let out when it scolded the fabric she was wearing and soldered into her skin. He tried his best not to harm her too much, but he had a job to do. 

He almost winced as he tugged on the whip, causing her to whimper in despair as her body unwillingly surged forward. Only his knowledge that she had betrayed him had stopped him from letting go.

The guards quickly followed, each of them manoeuvring so they were on front of her, just as Luka was. They each made their own whips, though weaker in power to Luka's own, each being controlled by it's creator and latching onto Marinette's upper body- with her still sitting on the ground, they could not grasp onto the lower half. Everywhere from her torso to her her arms to even her neck were being caught and Luka could, even from a distance, see the redness that was forming on her exposed skin. Perhaps it was lucky that his guards still had some dignity to not aim at her chest, for there were too many eyes on her. Even he would not wish that upon her.

Inwardly he couldn't help but hope her core energy would do it's best to keep her alive- her energy was exceptionally good at healing after all.

He shook his head a little and continued to focus on bringing her forward. 

Together, they pulled her, which was harder than anyone expected. Because even defeated, even exhausted and injured, Marinette still tried to fight back and hold her ground. It was like she had suddenly found some strength in her to manage a last hurrah. Because she was resisting in their efforts to drag her out of the contaminated area. Even when they tried to lift her off of the ground with heavy spells and incantations, their attempts were thwarted by whatever force was boosting her capability. He was bitterly reminded that all that she showed him was most likely a lie. 

What they didn't realise was that it wasn't just her who was repelling their intention. It was the power which surrounded her- or more accurately, the one who had had the ability to manipulate that power- that was giving her the strength to resist whilst also giving her a silent message to hang on.

Woefully for her, however, they eventually managed to get her out of the area the explosion covered, and suddenly it was all too easy for them to drag her towards the Emperor. One by one, the whips relinquished from their hold on her, and Marinette was once again being surrounded by guards. Her one contingency, the jade bead, was gone. They knew nothing could help her now.

(Oh! how wrong they were.)

"Let me see her," the guards parted, forming rank on either side of the ladybug, all ready for defence if needed, "It is clear to me that, as the God of War has accused, you are indeed in league with our greatest enemy, Destruction. This is treason of the highest degree."

"My Lord," the girl finally choked out though she still didn't look up at the Emperor, "I urge you to allow me to expla-"

"There is nothing to explain! The evidence speaks for itself," and with that, he brought his hand forward and used his own power to lift her into the air, ignoring the small voice in his head whispering to him of the familiarity of the girl on front who had the audacity to lie of her involvement with Destruction, "You have been judged and you will be punished for your insolence to the highest degree I believe you deserve."

She struggled against his hold, having never felt something or someone so mighty in it's power working against her. It was like a monstrous arm had wrapped around her and lifted her up, squeezing her so ruthlessly that she even found the act of breathing excruciatingly hard. She agonizingly watched as, even with his hold on her, the Emperor was able to conjure up a weapon in the shape of a lightning bolt that fit into his palm, his rage scarily silent but the hatred in his features were clear even with her blurred vision. She continued to watch in torment as the weapon grew in size, and it attracted more and more sparks which would collide into each other to form long tendrils of light which should have been warm and welcoming- and it was, to everyone who was watching on knowing that this was an act to protect them, but to her, it was a sign that her clock would be broken forever.  

The tendrils took more shape and became miniature forms of lightning that bounced around the weapon. 

She had heard of this- the famous type of death known and recorded as the Emperor's Strike which only criminals of the highest severity and the ones who he believed deserved it the most would ever get. It was a rare form of punishment, with not even ten victims, and one that displayed the formidable wrath that caused people to bow at him in an instance. And now, she would be part of that list, forever seen as a treasonous fairy- not even her achievements of purifying an akuma or being the youngest to pass the immortal exams would be remembered.

She closed her eyes, finally and most definitely defeated. And people cheered on as they realised the traitor had no more tricks up her sleeve, no more strength to make a stand for herself, no lifeline left to save her. Even she waited patiently, wondering when death would strike by the hands of the Emperor. She heard him raise his hand and release the weapon, and her ears picked up the sound of it flying through the air straight towards her.

But she never felt it hit her.

Without warning, the feeling of being confined by a large, sinister hand had disappeared, instead being replaced by what she imagined as a kind spectre holding onto her waist dearly. The burning sensation that she felt all over her body from the fresh wounds she had acquired were dying out, as if it had been overpowered by ice. The coolness was comforting and reassuring in some ways, and it carried her gently in the air, doing it's best to expel the fear and the anguish Marinette had been through in merely more than an hour. When she opened her eyes she was just as shocked as the gasps that emitted out of many of the audience.

"How dare you," A thunderous voice that sent chills down the spines of almost everyone in the arena screamed in fury, "Hurt My Lady?" To Marinette it was a welcome melody that brought solace to her grief-stricken mind.

Everything would be okay, finally.

...............

Ahh frick this last part always makes me squeal when I see it. The sentences Adrien says is actually the scene from the drama which inspired me to write this whole story because it's too frickin good hbhbshdbfhbhbjbs. 

Ignore me. Just go on to the next chapter which was my favourite chapter to write for part I.

See you in a bit Lovelies <3