The damage was hard to quantify in the slanting light, the stark shadows. He bled more as she took him in her arms, fever-warm against her suit, quickly cooling as it left his body.

Chat was breathing, but barely. Shallow, frantic as his body attempted to keep him alive. His eyes were rolled back, empty, his lips parted as his muscles spasmed, flutters beneath the suit. Mixed electrical signals. Misfires. Plagg was the best protection he could have, but even he had failed. There was only so much luck a black cat could have.

The transformation remained in place, but a soft green light began to flicker at the edges of his mask, a surreal whisper of fading light.

Hawkmoth knelt in front of them, Chat's blood staining the knees of his expensive suit.

"Do you understand me now, Ladybug?" he asked quietly, his voice a cold, coaxing rumble. "What wouldn't you give? What lows wouldn't you stoop to? What wouldn't you wish for?"

In Ladybug's arms, Chat Noir gave a ragged, bubbling gasp, lungs working on reflex alone. The transformation began to peel away at his hands. The edges of his bell.

"... we can save him," Hawkmoth whispered, lifting his hand in front of her. He opened his fingers, showing his empty palm.

"If you give me your Miraculous."