The soft hum of Paris at dawn was a symphony of its own. Light spilled into the marble-floored halls of Thorne's temporary villa as he buttoned up his dark-collared shirt and slipped on his jacket. His eyes drifted briefly toward the clock.
She would be landing any moment now.
Without hesitation, he left.
The terminal echoed with footsteps and rolling luggage. Thorne leaned against the black luxury sedan, parked just beyond security clearance, arms crossed. A dark pair of sunglasses shielded his sharp gaze.
And then she appeared.
Zoé Lee.
Golden hair brushed her shoulders, her hoodie slightly oversized from the journey, but her eyes—amber, thoughtful, unsure—brightened the moment she saw him.
"Thorne," she whispered, letting out a breath as she rushed forward.
He opened his arms, and she fell into them without hesitation.
"You really brought me here," she murmured against his shoulder.
"Of course," he said softly, "I always keep my promises."
They stayed like that a moment longer—two souls silently syncing again in a foreign city. Then he pulled back slightly, offering her a faint grin.
"We've got time to freshen up before the madness begins."
Zoé stood in awe at the minimal yet elegant design of Thorne's Paris villa. Tastefully furnished, it was neither gaudy nor cold—just... refined. Like him.
She emerged from the guest room in a fresh outfit he had arranged for her, hair tied into a neat ponytail.
"You didn't have to go all out," she said, running a finger over the soft silk of her blouse.
Thorne, now sipping coffee, smirked slightly. "You're starting a new chapter. Might as well begin in style."
Zoé smiled, then hesitated. "Are you sure about this school? About... Chloé?"
His expression hardened briefly.
"I told her father not to say a word. Let her be surprised. If she crosses a line..." Thorne's tone grew colder. "I don't care if she's mayoral royalty. I don't let anyone hurt you."
She nodded, her heart thudding at his protective intensity.
The arrival of a new student always caused a stir. But when said student stepped out of a sleek car beside a boy like Thorne—it was a tempest.
Heads turned. Whispers ignited.
Thorne held Zoé's bag as she straightened her posture and took a steadying breath.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Not really."
"You will be. Walk like you own the sidewalk."
She exhaled—and stepped forward with him by her side.
Then the shriek.
"WHAT is SHE doing here?!"
Chloé Bourgeois stood at the top of the front steps, arms crossed, face twisted in disbelief and rising panic.
"Zoé? You're kidding me. Daddy said you were in New York for good!"
Thorne stepped forward first, placing himself calmly between them.
"She's here. In your school. In your class."
Chloé blinked at him. "You knew?!"
"I arranged it," Thorne said, his voice dropping to a quiet but sharp edge. "And you'll show her the basic decency she deserves. Or I'll make your life here very... uncomfortable."
The courtyard fell dead silent.
Even Sabrina froze beside Chloé.
Thorne's words weren't shouted.
But they were final.
And even Chloé knew not to test a force she couldn't manipulate.
Zoé stepped up beside him, refusing to let fear return. "Hi, Chloé," she said, polite but distant.
Chloé turned sharply, stalking off with a frustrated toss of her hair.
Classes had started. Adrien waved at Thorne and Zoé as they passed. Marinette lingered for a moment, her eyes scanning Zoé curiously.
"She's cool," she whispered to Alya. "Totally different vibe."
But across the hallway, another storm was brewing.
Ivan sat alone at a table, eyes low, shoulders sagged.
Thorne spotted him immediately.
It was time.
A cold wind drifted in through the windows. The lights flickered ever so slightly.
And then—
CRACK.
A shudder echoed through the school.
The floor trembled. Screams rang out.
In the heart of the disturbance stood Stoneheart—towering, jagged, and monstrous.
Ivan was no longer in control.
The akuma had taken root.
Students fled to the stairs as Stoneheart stomped across the stone courtyard, roaring in agony and betrayal.
Zoé gasped, stepping back instinctively.
"W-What is that?!"
Thorne's expression darkened. He reached for his phone but didn't call anyone. Instead, he looked toward the rooftops.
"Showtime," he murmured under his breath, eyes searching for red or black streaks across the sky.
But even as Ladybug and Chat Noir might arrive soon...
Something was stirring inside him.
And Master Fu, watching from a shadowed distance, whispered with certainty:
"The time is closer than I feared. But he must not face his trial alone."
Later that evening, as calm returned, Thorne stood on the villa balcony, phone pressed to his ear.
"Yeah, it went smoothly," he said. "She's settled in. We had our first... disruption today."
His mother's voice was warm on the line. "We saw the news. A monster in Paris already?"
"Yeah," he said. "It's starting. Just like I remembered."
"And Zoé?"
"She's strong. But I need you to handle the legal arrangements for her permanent residence."
His father's voice joined the call. "We always liked her. We'll take care of it."
Thorne smiled faintly. "Thanks. She'll need every advantage she can get."
He turned to face the city as the moon rose.
Because this was just the first fracture.
And more were coming.