Spite and Sword

Another night, another target. Another late night stalking. Another person whom to corrupt.

Lurking in the shadows was a villain. This villain possessed a singular purpose - To corrupt the links that formed relationships with other people.

Links occur whenever a person meets another person, invisible, and intangible. These links can be of many things. The friendship link, the hatred link, the familial link, and the Soul Link, as well as hundreds of thousands of other links that the villain himself was unsure of. The specifics were unimportant. All he needed was a general idea of what to cause.

He wore a cape around his neck, dark black, to aid in camouflaging himself into the darkness of the night, as well as a white mask, wrapped around his face like bandages, with only two holes for his eyes to see, one for his nose, and another for his mouth. Otherwise, he was armed with all sorts of various knives and sharp weaponry on his body. His name was Spite.

Before he had been given this purpose, he had been a teenager known as Hugo Corrapulé, thrown into a deep depression after learning that the group of friends he had amassed over the previews few weeks, had been using him for little more than a joke, a dare by their other friend groups, to see how long the poor teenager would go until he figured out they didn't give a damn about him, leaving him all alone once again.

And now, he had the power to show them just how much feeling like he was feeling used to hurt. The anger, the sadness, the hatred and the nihilism it brings. He would corrupt the links of friendship they held so dear, tearing their group apart, making the closest of friends turn into the uttermost enemies. Turn people who hated one another into the closest friends, confusing and betraying other peoples trust and friendship in them. Tear everything held sacred and held dear to every other person in this nightmarish existence of absolute pointlessness into nothingness, leaving behind empty shells of people with no reasons to exist in the grand infinity of the cosmos.

Thus was the strength of the Soul Link.

He had started with his own ex-friend group... and now he was moving onto others. Behest of his master.

"Spite." The voice of the bestower rang inside the villains head, sending him an image of the person he had to thank for all of this. Hawkmoth. The man who had gifted Spite all of this power, and given him the name. He had always wondered, how had Hawkmoth known about the Links, when no one else had? But then again, did it matter? He was in control of them now, free to act as he willed, as long as he returned the favor. "Your actions are permitted as you see fit, as we agreed. However, you know that you must return the favor to me soon."

"You need only say the word, Hawkmoth. What do you want me to do?" Spite asked, brandishing a knife, and gripping hold of the blade, so his crimson blood ran down the sharp metal.

"To my understanding, the connection between Ladybug and Chat Noir is that of a Soul Link. I request that you sever that link, and turn it to a link of absolute hatred."

"Is that all? You don't want me to... Get my blades dirty?"

"It is unlikely your powers will be enough to win in a fight - Should you engage in combat with them, I shall not stop you... But you are required to sever their link."

"And I get to keep these powers, right?" Spite questioned again, with a toothy, evil grin.

"Naturally."

Brandishing two butcher's knives in his hands, Spite glared at his target. "Don't worry about a thing, Hawkmoth. Consider it done." He then leaped at his target, channeling the dark energy into his blades, causing them to glow a dark, disturbing color of blackish grey around the sharp, serrated, perfectly designed weapons for slashing opponents, and struck the yellow link of friendship.

Adrien's head was full of aches and pains. Yesterday, it had been Nino and Alya who had turned into arch-enemies within the space of twenty-four hours, and now, it was Kim and Alix who were at one another's throats. The two got along fine the previous day. Now Adrien was certain they wanted to kill each other, and given the way they normally acted, they might well try to.

He wouldn't let him distract him though. He couldn't let that distract him. Not with his modelling work he had after school today. His father had given him a chance to prove he could manage a relationship with a girl. More than Adrien could have ever really hoped for from his father. He couldn't screw this up. He .

Still, Alix, Kim, Alya, Nino, and Chloe, all affected so dramatically for little to no known reason or understanding, with no clear reason for it in mind. It was worrying Adrien. He was concerned about his best friend, who was currently glaring at Alya from across the room, clear hatred in his eyes, before he turned quickly and growled.

"I uh... Take it you're still angry with Alya?" Adrien asked.

"Oh yeah, dude. Oh yeah." Nino replied, making a fist with his right hand.

"What... What did she even do to make you this angry?"

Nino didn't answer. There was no answer, Adrien knew. This wasn't Nino. This wasn't the sort of person that he normally was. He wasn't spiteful, regardless of who or whatever the person in question was. He wouldn't hold grudges like this forever. The only exception was Chloe, but then, who didn't have a grudge against Chloe? But Nino always had a good reason for being angry at someone. Him not having a reason to be angry was just... Weird.

Adrien knew he wasn't going to get answers by asking Nino, Alya, or anyone who had been changed so dramatically. He needed to figure out the actual source of the issue, and take that down.

He was worried that whatever had done this to Nino and Alya, was going to do this to him and Marinette.

He refused to allow that to happen.

"Yes, that's good! Keep-a that pose... Now look angrier. Too angry, tone it back... Yes! Look directly at the camera... Don't move that face! That's-a perfect!"

Adrien was on with his work today. He had never hated modelling as a job. But at the same time, he had never particularly enjoyed it either. But today, he was absolutely rocking it. He was having more fun with this session than he had ever had in his entire life. He was taking it seriously, of course he was, but he was still presenting some of the best poses and images ever asked from him. He was like an artist, slaughtering painting after painting.

It was also one of the few times Gabriel had been present for one of Adrien's photoshoots, although this had little to do with the arrangements he and Adrien had made. This was because Adrien's photo's today were up for consideration of one of the top fashion magazine in Paris, and Gabriel wanted a personal say in what image he felt best captured Adrien, so he always intended to be there, as well as do some of his usual networking and negotiating with other people present.

Even the stoic, emotionless, cold and distant Gabriel Agreste would admit, his son was doing an excellent job. He knew his son would be doing his best to prove that he was capable and mature enough to continue seeing this Marinette girl, but the images didn't lie - He was excellent today.

"Less angry now! The most-a beautiful girl has just walked in front of you!" The photographer told Adrien. It was a way of explaining to Adrien what kind of face, emotion he was looking for. He would say something was happening, and Adrien was to respond accordingly.