"It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor that most intelligent. But the one most responsive to change."  

- Charles Darwin (1809-1882) 

How could it have gone so wrong? How could they have lost?
The heroes had tried to stand against him, but they had lost. Their strength was failing. Their resolve weakening.
And Paris, was burning.
All Hell had been unleashed upon the City of Love, all forms of ruin and chaos prevailing upon the once proud city, engulfing the city in walls of flame so high that they breached the very smoke clouds they created and glowed with clashing yellow and orange lights far brighter than any Parisian dawn.
And in the middle of this chaos, on the lowest platform of the Eiffel Tower, stood a black silhouette, growling like a wild dog as it choked the life from a blonde girl bound in a black and yellow striped suit, her powers helpless against the vice-like grip of the shadow's clawed hand. 

The girl, one of five fallen heroes below her, whimpered and groaned, scraping and pawing at the shadow in an effort to free herself. Unfortunately, her struggle was in vain, her scarred body going limp and breathless in her attacker's grasp . Soon her body stopped kicking and flailing, much to the shadow's disappointment. Without so much as another word, he tossed her unconscious body across the platform, apathetic as the gleaming comb in her hair flashed with a golden light.
Rolling his neck, the shadow approached the platform's edge, front-flipping off and landing below the Tower on one knee, falling onto the burning floor like a vengeful angel from on high.
As he crossed the courtyard before him, the shadow over his body lifted, revealing a far more sinister form.
Like his silhouetted form, he was lean and toned, only now he was wrapped in a white and smoke-grey tight-suit, with fur trims around his shoulders - like some kind of primal armour.
As he walked, the sound of crackling gravel and embers being snuffed out resounded beneath his slate leather boots, coupled with the even louder sound of his metacarpal bones cracking as he closed his white fists. The smell of blood and gore hung over him like a dark cloud, a rank stench from the bloodied dussack sword at his waist and the bloodstained sash wrapped around his twin leather belts.
But his most macabre feature was the ivory wolf-skull around his head, a mask of bone that shone like moonlight amidst the flames, and hid a pair of cold, lapis eyes that surveyed the destruction before him with callous disinterest.
Once upon a time, the sight of this wolven figure had induced a fathomless despair among countless peoples, and driven others to the brink of madness. The rest, a very brave few, had taken up arms with or against him in battles that had shaped the known world and spawned legends that haunted those who heard it, even to this very day.
And now, within the forsaken, burning city of Paris, many more would be born.
The Wolf licked his lips as he drew further away from the Eiffel Tower and closer to the heroes before him.
Rena Rouge was barely a few feet away, her orange and white suit smeared with blood and soot as she stirred on the courtyard floor. Carapace was just across from her, still very much awake, though kneeling on the ground and panting hoarsely like an animal.
Then there was Cat Noir, lying face-down at the edge of the Eiffel Tower's shadow, his leather-clad body stained with blood and fresh bruises. His breaths were shallow (if they even drew any) and his body still, if it even carried life. Was the Cat dead? Was he alive? The Wolf did not care, for his attention was not upon the feline, but rather the girl that lay beside him.
Ladybug.
Out of all her comrades, Ladybug had certainly sustained the most injuries - or at least the worst ones. The fair skin on her face was all but completely masked by blood and dried tears. Her polka-dot suit was dotted in claw marks and covered in so many different blood-stains, it resembled some kind of gruesome red colour chart.
And yet, she wore it proudly.
Her left arm dangled at her side as she pulled herself across the ground to Cat Noir's side, a clear sign the limb was dislocated or even broken.
And yet she kept going.
Even the glow of her beautiful sapphire eyes was gone, one swollen over in a fleshy maroon bruise and the other a dull silver, wide as it beheld the fiery horror engulfing her beloved city.
And yet, her gaze didn't waver. Everything had been turned against her, and she still refused to give up.
"You are truly remarkable, girl." the Wolf praised her half-heartedly. His voice was low and composed, almost like a growl, but with the malicious refinement of a demon. "So opposed to my ideals and yet you are everything they represent."
But Ladybug ignored him, groaning and whimpering under her breath as she finally reached Cat Noir's side. She let herself drop onto the ground, the heat of the concrete and the sight of Cat's unconscious form bringing tears to her eyes.
As the tears started to spill, she laid her head against the ground, her fingers trembling as she ran them through his tousled blonde hair.
"...I'm sorry, Kitty..." she sobbed. "I'm so, so...sorry..."
Cat Noir's eyelids fluttered, just enough that Ladybug could see his emerald green eyes wavering behind his lashes.
He tried to say something to her, some words of love or comfort, but all he could muster was a hoarse groan. He lifted one of his injured arms and placed his hand atop of Ladybug's, holding it to his face as if it were the last comfort in the world.

And Ladybug returned the gesture, pressing her forehead to his.
The Wolf watched the gesture with a wrinkled nose, the cold lapis eyes behind his mask narrowing.
"If only you would cast these meaningless bonds aside. Forget these pathetic heroes and surrender yourself to the natural course of the world - to Nature's will!"
Ladybug scowled at him, keeping her hand on Cat Noir's head.
"...This isn't Nature's doing." she spat. "This is a massacre! Your doing!"
The Wolf chuckled at her retort, a low and evil laugh that chipped away at Ladybug's heart.
"Call it what you will, Marinette." he chided. "This is the nature of the world in it's purest form. Peace. Destruction. Ruin. Survival. Repair. Prosperity. Rinse and Repeat! An intermittent, but glorious cycle!"
He stepped closer towards her, ignoring the strained groans of the recovering Rena Rouge and Carapace.
"The Order of the Guardians refused this, denied the world it's natural state. And their legacy of ignorance carried onto Fu, who with his dying breath, passed it onto you."
"Shut up!" Rena Rouge yelled. "Don't you dare talk about him like that!"
But the Wolf ignored her.
"Fu blinded you! He might have given you power, but he kept you from your destiny!"
Ladybug sobbed again, pressing her forehead deeper against Cat Noir's.
"Don't deny yourself this, Ladybug!" the Wolf encouraged her. "Help the Trinity build a new world from this trash heap! A new and better world where the strong reign supreme!"
"Don't listen to him!" Carapace yelled. The boy roared with anger as he lunged at the Wolf, grunting with effort as he swung his shield wildly about him. Each swing was as blind and desperate as the last, all of them missing the Wolf by whole feet, but the moment Carapace got closer, the Wolf stepped into the strike and stopped the shield with his palms - pushing it back into the hero's face.
"Ngh!"
Carapace recoiled as his nose broke against the shield, losing his balance and giving the Wolf the opportunity to pull the turtle hero into a swift knee-strike and a downward elbow to the back of his head.
A blunt pain shot down Carapace's neck as black spots filled his eyes, all before he finally realized what was happening. Before he could respond however, the Wolf ducked under Carapace's arm and twisted it behind his back, wrenching the shield out of the boy's hand and striking him across the upper back with it.
"AGH!"
Carapace fell onto his face, the sharp pain in his back burning and numbing all at once. As he struggled to stay conscious, the Wolf stood over him and raised the shield above his head, it's sharp and metallic edge glistening in the firelight as he brought it down.
"No!"
But Rena Rouge threw herself at the Wolf, jumping onto his back with such speed, the lupine warrior was forced to drop Carapace's shield to fight back. As he recoiled from the attack, Rena latched onto his back even tighter, wrapping legs and arms around him like a panicked monkey as she wedged her flute under his chin and reared back, choking the Wolf with all the strength she had left.
"You'll pay for this!" she snarled. "You'll-!"
The Wolf roared and reached back with his free hand, seizing Rena by her hair and throwing her over his shoulders onto the courtyard floor, punching her square in the face as she landed.
"You know," the Wolf scoffed. "I would have expected the 'Fox' wielder to be more cunning than that."
Rena sneered at him, her upper lip and front teeth red with blood. She rolled onto her side and snatched her flute from the ground, brandishing it to strike the Wolf in the face-
-But the Wolf caught the flute and tore it from Rena's grasp, breaking the tool over his knee and driving one of the halves through Rena's shoulder.
"AAAGGGGHHHH!!!"
Rena Rouge screamed in agony as the splintered flute drove through the flesh and muscle of her left shoulder, her howls so loud that they almost drowned out the flames around them. Ignoring her cries, the Wolf simply leaned over her, dangling the last half of the flute over her chest.
"Relish the pain." he whispered, eyeing the area just above her heart. "Existence is validated through suffering, a proof of life."
Rena's screams turned into sobs as he raised the flute half, his sky-blue eyes fiery with hate.
"...Meditate on this with your last breath!"
And without so much as blinking, he brought the flute piece down over Rena's chest, as swift and merciless as a guillotine blade. But before the sharp end could even graze Rena's tight-suit, there was a whistling of metal wire - a black cord coiling around the Wolf's arm and pulling him back.
The surprise on the Wolf's face unfurled as he beheld the red and polka-dotted disk twined around his arm, his lips curling into a sadistic grin as he followed the cord to it's point of origin - a few feet behind him and to his right.
Ladybug.
"My, my." the Wolf licked his lips hungrily. "And here I thought you were too weak to fight back."
Ladybug said nothing, wincing as she wound the cord around her arm. The cord groaned as she weaved it around her, the metallic cable biting into her sleeve as she fought to pull the Wolf away from Rena.
Scoffing at her attempt to subdue him, the Wolf rolled his eyes and pulled his arm sharply, taking Ladybug off balance and straight into the Wolf's range, the latter striking her across the face with his elbow.
A loud crack rang out as Ladybug's jaw met the edge of his arm, the strike sending her skidding along the ground back to where she stood before.
As the heroine came to her senses, the Wolf sneered and tore the yo-yo cord from his arm and started towards her, leaving the now unconscious Rena to her devices.
"For what it's worth," the Wolf sighed as he tossed the broken flute piece aside, "It didn't have to be this way. We could have been allies. The Trinity could have used someone with your resolve and skill."
Ladybug groaned as she pulled herself up from the ground, holding her side as she met the Wolf's gaze.
"I'd never help you." she spat. "Never."
The Wolf didn't seem fazed by her answer. He simply stopped walking, a little more than ten feet away from her, and stood at ease.
"You could have been a leader of a new world. A beacon to all the oppressed and powerless people the world over. And yet you'd rather die alone? Bloodied, broken and wailing in the dirt like some flogged mutt?"
"...She's...not alone."
The Wolf turned his head to Ladybug's right, his eyes narrowing into slits behind his mask as he watched Cat Noir stir awake. The feline hero groaned on the floor, a sound dangerously close to a death rattle as he reached for his bo staff, dragging himself up it's metallic surface until he was up on his feet.
The Cat looked even worse than Ladybug, his scarred lips trembling as he drew each breath and his legs, wounded and bloodied, knocked together fearfully as he leaned against his staff, perhaps the only thing keeping him upright. He seemed so ragged, that it seemed like even a gentle breeze could kill him.
And yet, here he stood, with nought but his will and a battered metal stick to hold himself up.
"...I won't...let you...hurt...her..." he wheezed, his grip tightening on his baton. "I'll...kill you...before I let that...happen..."
Ladybug felt new tears welling in her eyes. "Cat Noir..."
But Cat Noir brushed away her concern and smiled at her weakly.
"...You and me against the world, milady." he beamed. "Remember?"
The Wolf cackled at Cat Noir's words as he drew the sword on his waist, the Celtic blade glowing white-hot as he raised it in alignment with Ladybug's throat.
"The world?" he dismissed. "If only you stood such a chance against me."
It was Ladybug's turn to dismiss his words, the comfort of Cat's words superseding the pain of her injuries.
"Chance or not. You're going down, Wolf!"
The Wolf's eyes widened as her words shook the air. For a moment (barely a moment), their resolve struck a chord within the Wolf's icy heart, fostering a newfound feeling of admiration within him.
Ladybug and Cat Noir. The Bug and the Cat. Creation and Ruin. Yin and Yang.
How many time had he seen this? These two powers standing together like Titans in the face of adversity? Together side-by-side, facing the Wolf and his allies at every turn?
Too many to count. So many fleeting, unappreciated moments.
And yet, their presence brought every single one of those memories back, as if the sight of them together were some kind of key to the deepest recesses of his mind. Memories of war, carnage, slaughter and ruin; each of them crashing and battering against his brain like raindrops in the winds of a typhoon.
But out of all those memories, one stood out among the rest. A brief memory, barely a single moment in time and yet the recollection of it seemed to taunt him, like a single star in a night of abyssal blackness.
A sunlit classroom. A clear teal sky, with six white clouds. Crisp and cool autumn air. Fifteen pairs of eyes upon him. Watching with fascination, curiosity and anxiety - like frightened little animals.
That one memory. How much has changed since then?
How much had changed in these last few months...?