He calmed himself down.
The scorching flame of "humiliation" that was enough to burn away all reason did not burn for too long in his heart, which had already been frozen by sorrow and obsession. The rage eventually turned into a wisp of smoke, dissipating into the cold and dead air of the lair. In its place was a more terrifying calmness, like ten-thousand-year-old profound ice.
He slowly sat back down on the throne-like chair. The shattered tablet screen still reflected his masked face, its expression unreadable.
Lost?
Yes, he lost. Lost ridiculously, lost completely.
But what of it?
He, Gabriel, or rather Hawk Moth, thought quietly. The absolute control over structure and logic, characteristic of a top designer, was now being used by him to analyze this absurd failure.
He understood.
What did the Hawk Moth others spoke of have to do with him, Gabriel? It was merely a mask, a symbol to bear the world's fear and hatred. People were mocking the "Clown of the Year" who was played for a fool by a bunch of kids in the video, not him, not the sole lonely martyr who bore the sins of the entire world for his beloved.
Furthermore, the rules of this "game" were unequal from the very beginning.
He could make countless mistakes in the shadows. Today, he could trigger a Akumatization because of a broken pen; tomorrow, he could send out another one because of a soup that wasn't salty enough. He had endless time and almost infinite "pawns." As long as there was even a trace of negative emotion in this city, his source of power would never dry up.
But what about those children? What about the people in that class?
They only needed to make one mistake.
Just once, if their companion failed to tear up that paper in time; just once, if their will was crushed by their own desires; just once, if they were overwhelmed by sadness or anger when they were alone... they would become his most loyal accomplices, his most powerful warriors.
The outcome of the game was not about the gains and losses of a single city or stronghold, but about who could have the last laugh. As long as he hadn't revived Emilie, the Akumatization would never stop. And people would always be alone. People would always have negative emotions. Time was on his side.
Having understood this, Gabriel's last trace of humiliation vanished into thin air. He even felt a hint of morbid pleasure, as if he were a god standing outside the chessboard, coldly watching the pawns bustling, laughing, and being self-important within the grid, waiting for them to make that irreversible wrong move.
Just then, his private phone in his pocket vibrated slightly.
It was Nathalie.
He answered the phone, his voice having returned to its usual calmness and authority, without any emotional fluctuation.
"Sir." Nathalie's always calm, always precise voice came from the other end of the line, "Are you alright? I… saw the video circulating online." Her tone carried a hint of cautious concern.
"I'm fine," Gabriel replied faintly.
"That's good." Nathalie seemed to sigh with relief, but her next words stirred up Gabriel's recently calmed heart again. "Sir, it's about Adrien. This morning, he tried to go to school again. Although Bodyguard managed to dissuade him in time, his emotions are very unstable. He's been locked in his room for a long time, and I can feel that his desire to leave here is stronger than ever before. Sir, I think… he's about to lose control."
Gabriel listened quietly to Nathalie's report, his brows furrowing unconsciously. Adrien… His finger instinctively, gently caressed the simple silver ring on his left ring finger. This was his and Emilie's wedding ring.
"He will stay in this house, very well," Gabriel's voice grew cold, carrying an undeniable tone of command, "Whether he likes it or not, he must stay here."
Nathalie on the other end of the phone was uncharacteristically silent for a moment. Then, in a tone that could almost be described as "admonishing," a tone he had never heard before, she slowly said, "Sir… you can't keep him confined his entire life. Just like… the wedding ring on your hand can't trap him forever."
These words, like a key, instantly opened the deepest, most painful, and most secret door in Gabriel's memory.
He touched the cold wedding ring, and everything before his eyes seemed to blur. Time flowed backward, returning to a Parisian night more than a decade ago, the air still filled with the scent of happiness and champagne.
At that time, Emilie was still by his side. Her smile was more dazzling than any exhibit in the Louvre, her golden hair more radiant than the lights of the Palace of Versailles. They had everything — wealth, fame, and an impeccable love that the entire city of Paris envied.
Their happiness was as complete as a perfect circle, but Emilie always felt that something was missing from this circle.
"Gabriel," she whispered, leaning into his arms one beautiful evening, "It would be even better if we had a child. A child as handsome as you, and as passionate about art as I am."
That was their only regret. Due to health reasons, Emilie was unable to conceive.
It was also at that time that Gabriel made a decision he would regret to this day. He gave the mysterious and beautiful peacock-shaped brooch, the damaged miraculous, which he had accidentally obtained during an expedition to Tibet, as a gift to his beloved wife.
"Perhaps, my dear," he had said with a smile, "magic can bring us a true miracle."
He had originally thought it was just a joke, a romantic gesture to please his wife. But he underestimated Emilie's longing for a child. Emilie studied the equally ancient spellbook and learned the method of creating "emotion monsters" from the peacock Kwami named Duusu.
On a night enveloped by starlight and hope, she made a bold, almost insane decision. She plucked a beautiful blue feather and used it for Akumatization. Instead of choosing an ordinary item, she chose the wedding ring he had given her, the one symbolizing their eternal love, as the vessel for the "emotion."
Then, she placed the emotion monster named "child," composed of the purest "love" and "desire," into her own body.
Ten months of pregnancy, everything was like a real gestation process. Finally, Adrien was born. A flawless boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. They raised him as their true child, loved him, educated him, and rejoiced at every moment of his growth. Nathalie, as their most trusted partner, also knew this secret. She watched Adrien grow up, and had long since regarded this magically created child as her own son.
Adrien was their miracle, and the last piece of their puzzle of happiness.
But miracles come with a price.
In the first few years, the damaged miraculous seemed to have no effect on Emilie. But the "curse," like the most insidious chronic poison, slowly and relentlessly spread through her body. She began to grow weak, began to cough, and began to feel a bone-chilling cold even on the sunniest days.
Gabriel frantically searched for a cure. He had asked Duusu, and he had asked Nooroo, whom he had imprisoned, but the Kwamis were powerless. He had scoured the ancient spellbook, which contained countless magical spells, but not a single one was about how to repair a damaged miraculous.
Over those ten-plus years, he had exhausted all means, visited the world's top doctors, and sought the most hidden ancient powers, but all to no avail. He could only watch as the light of his beloved slowly, bit by bit, extinguished in his arms.
Until last year, Emilie completely fell into that "slumber" from which she would never awaken, leaving him forever.
Now, Nathalie's words pulled him back from his painful memories.
"Sir, Adrien is an emotion monster, but he is also your child," Nathalie's voice carried a hint of imperceptible pleading, "Emilie has already left you. Do you… want to let go again? Adrien doesn't know the secret of the wedding ring; he only believes his inability to resist you is out of reverence for his father. But this influence… this magic-based control… is pushing him to the brink of collapse. Sir, it's time. It's time to let him soar a little, in a limited, safe place."
Gabriel hung up the phone, and the room returned to a deathly silence.
Every word of Nathalie's hammered at his heart like a heavy blow.
Yes, he had already lost Emilie. He could not lose Adrien again. Adrien was not only his son, but also Emilie's last living "creation" left in this world, the crystallization of their love.
But freedom… freedom also meant danger. It meant unpredictability. It meant he might come into contact with people he shouldn't, discover secrets he shouldn't.
Gabriel was in an unprecedented dilemma.
Meanwhile, in Adrien's room.
He was lying bored on the huge sofa, refreshing web pages on his phone. Soon, Alya's newly posted, already viral video on her "Ladyblog" caught his eye.
The video's title was highly impactful — "Exclusive! Full Record of Paris's Number One Villain Hawk Moth's Epic Fail!"
Adrien clicked on it curiously.
When he saw his (if he went to school) classmates Kim, Rose, Chloé… one by one, like a revolving lantern, using all sorts of trivial reasons to make the arrogant supervillain run around in circles, he was first stunned, then burst into laughter.
"Hahahahaha! This… this is too funny!" He laughed so hard he rolled on the sofa, tears almost coming out.
"What's so funny? Did your old-fashioned dad finally agree to let you eat three camembert cheese?" Plagg flew out from behind a pile of cushions, lazily holding a small piece of cheese in His mouth.
"A hundred times funnier than that! Plagg, come look!" Adrien held up his phone to it.
Plagg leaned over to look, and its green cat eyes were also filled with surprise and schadenfreude.
"Wow…" It whistled, "That big villain called Hawk Moth really made a fool of himself this time. I bet he's probably stomping his feet in anger in some dark corner right now."
"More than just stomping his feet." Adrien watched Chloé, with her queen-like demeanor, making Sabrina tear up the poster in the video, and laughed even harder, "I bet he's questioning his life right now. By the way, Plagg, listen to this voiceover…" He dragged the progress bar to the part where Jaden did the voiceover.
When that deep, magnetic voice, full of villainous charm, came from the phone, Plagg was stunned for a moment. "Hey, this Jaden really has some talent. His voice sounds much more imposing than that guy who only hides behind the scenes and releases butterflies."
Adrien's smile gradually faded as he saw the familiar, lively faces of his classmates in the video, replaced by an indescribable envy and loss.
"You see, Plagg," he said softly, pointing at the screen, "They can go to class together, play together, and even… tease a supervillain together at school. They are a collective. But what about me?"
He looked around his large, impractical, luxurious cage.
"I can only sit here, watching their lives through a cold screen. Yesterday I became Cat Noir, and I thought I was free. But in the end, I still have to come back here. Cat Noir's freedom is temporary, it's stolen. But Adrien's imprisonment is eternal."
Plagg looked at his dejected expression and, uncharacteristically, didn't complain. It flew to his shoulder and rubbed its small head against his cheek.
"Don't be discouraged, kid," it said in a rare gentle tone, "Didn't you do very well yesterday? You and your 'lady' saved everyone together. You are already a hero. One day, you will walk out of this door with dignity."
"One day…" Adrien murmured, the fire of longing for freedom in his emerald eyes burning even brighter after a brief moment of loss.
What he didn't know was that the day he longed for was about to arrive.
Gabriel paced back and forth in the empty room for a long time.
Nathalie's words echoed in his ears like a spell. In his mind, Emilie's gentle smiling face and Adrien's emerald eyes, full of longing and defiance, and so similar to hers, constantly alternated.
Finally, he stopped, standing before his wife's large portrait.
He made a decision.
Nathalie was right. Blind confinement would only lead to stronger resistance. He was a strategist; he couldn't handle his most precious treasure in the most foolish way.
He needed a different approach. A more advanced "imprisonment" that could both satisfy Adrien's desire for freedom and keep him firmly within his sight.
He picked up the phone and dialed Nathalie's number again.
"Sir?"
"Nathalie," Gabriel's voice returned to absolute calm and authority, "Starting tomorrow, arrange a car to take Adrien to school."
Nathalie on the other end of the phone was silent for several seconds, in extreme shock.
"…Yes, Sir," she finally replied, her voice carrying a hint of relieved joy that even she hadn't noticed.
Gabriel hung up the phone.
He looked out at the Parisian night sky, which had been washed even clearer by the rain, then turned his head to look at his wife's portrait, a thought, whether right or wrong, flashing through his mind.