The classroom door slowly closed behind them, completely cutting off the clamor filled with worry, admiration, and various complex emotions.
The corridor was empty, only the echoing footsteps of Jaden and Chloé.
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting bright patches of light on the floor, and in the patches, countless motes of dust danced quietly.
Compared to the apocalyptic scene outside, shrouded by a gray flock of pigeons, this place was like another world.
Chloé followed closely behind Jaden, trying her best to imitate her usual arrogant queen-like posture, straightening her back and raising her chin.
But her tightly clasped hands, knuckles slightly white from the effort, and her heart, beating half a beat faster than usual, ruthlessly betrayed her inner tension.
She could even smell the unique blend of fish and dust from the pigeons, drifting in through the window and into the air.
When they reached the main hall of the teaching building, the sight before them made Chloé gasp, almost deflating all the courage she had just mustered.
Countless pigeons, thousands upon thousands of pigeons, like a thick, constantly writhing gray carpet, covered the entire school grounds.
They made no sound, just stared at them motionless at the entrance, with countless, round, emotionless little eyes like black beans.
The scene, rather than a flock of birds, was more like a disciplined army of the undead, waiting for their supreme leader's inspection.
And in mid-air, Mr. Pigeon, dressed in his comical attire, stood triumphantly on a floating platform formed by tightly circling pigeons, like a third-rate circus ringmaster, looking down at them with an extremely satisfied expression.
"Coo-coo—! Welcome! Welcome! My two most distinguished guests!" Mr. Pigeon let out an excited and sharp cry, dramatically waving his arms like a conductor leading his orchestra.
With his movement, the gray "carpet" on the ground immediately parted, and two small clouds, each formed by hundreds of pigeons tightly pressed together, separated from the pigeon army.
They flapped their wings, making a "whooshing" sound, and slowly flew to the stairs in front of them, like two strange, airborne steps made of feathers and flesh.
"Please! My beautiful Chloé, and my brilliant voice actor, Mr. Jaden!" Mr. Pigeon invited them with a dramatic, almost Shakespearean aria, "Please step onto the soft backs of my children, they will, like the most loyal servants, carry you to my side!"
Seeing this bizarre scene, Chloé's face turned green. For her to step on these slimy, dirty-looking pigeons, possibly carrying all sorts of bacteria? This was even more unbearable than making her wear a season's worth of discounted clothes!
"Are you insane?!" She could no longer maintain her queenly composure, lowering her voice and shrieking at Jaden, "We'll definitely fall if we step on them! Their wings are so soft! I don't want to! Absolutely not!"
Jaden, however, seemed unusually calm. His gaze first swept over the two pigeon clouds, still gently bobbing up and down, their balance maintained by countless wings, then he looked up at the expectant Mr. Pigeon in mid-air.
Only then did he speak to Chloé beside him in a flat, unwavering tone: "Have you forgotten? The physical properties of these magically enhanced things can no longer be judged by common sense."
His voice was light, yet carried a strange, soothing logic. He turned his head, looking at Chloé's blue eyes, wide with fear, and continued, "Since he dares to let us step on them, it means this thing is safe.
Moreover, even if his purpose was just to make us fall in public, then this city-wide disaster Hawk Moth granted him would be a bit of an overkill."
After speaking, under Chloé's complex gaze, filled with horror, doubt, and a hint of "you actually make some sense," Jaden took a step forward and, cleanly and decisively, placed his right foot firmly onto one of the pigeon clouds.
The feeling was strange. His foot did not, as expected, step into empty space, nor did it land on soft feathers. Instead, it was like stepping on an extremely elastic, yet uncommonly solid entity. He could feel that the hundreds of pigeons beneath his foot had formed an incredibly stable platform, perfectly conforming to principles of mechanics, using their bodies, wings, and even bones.
He shifted his full weight onto it; the platform only sank half an inch before stabilizing again.
He stood firmly on it, then turned around, and, meeting Chloé's astonished gaze, extended his hand to her once more.
"Come," His eyes were calm and deep, like a bottomless ancient well, capable of drawing in all of one's fear and unease, "The Mayor's daughter's glorious moment cannot end before a few mere steps. All of Paris is watching."
Chloé looked at his distinctly jointed, long, and strong hand; it seemed to possess an irresistible magic. She then looked at his eyes, confident to the point of arrogance, as if telling her: Trust me, everything is under my control.
Ultimately, the fear of "making a fool of herself" triumphed over the fear of "stepping on pigeons."
She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and, as if heading to the execution ground, tremblingly placed her gloved hand into his palm.
When her hand was grasped by his warm and strong one, an unexpected sense of security instantly spread through her palm and throughout her body.
She opened her eyes, and, under Jaden's steady guidance, took a deep breath and placed her foot onto the other pigeon platform.
"Take off—! To our glorious throne!" Mr. Pigeon, seeing them both standing, let out a joyous, high-pitched command.
The two pigeon platforms, carrying them both, ascended steadily and slowly into the air like a silent elevator.
Finally, they arrived beside Mr. Pigeon, standing together on the larger flying platform made of thousands of pigeons, and flew majestically towards the Eiffel Tower, Paris's iconic landmark, gleaming with metallic luster in the distance.
Behind them was the vast pigeon army, covering the sky and sun, like a moving, gray, breathing storm cloud.
"Coo-coo-coo! We will wait at the top of the Eiffel Tower for my dear Mayor, to fulfill my humble and righteous condition of securing a home for my children!" Mr. Pigeon's smug voice, amplified by magic, spread throughout the city.
Inside the Mayor's office, Mayor Bourgeois Bourgeois stared intently at the live broadcast screen, at the constantly zooming-in image of his daughter.
When he saw his daughter and the unfamiliar black-haired youth being carried away by pigeons, flying into the sky, the calculating politician's mask on his face instantly shattered, struck down by a father's most primal fear.
"No—! Chloé!"
He sprang from his expensive leather chair, and the bone china coffee cup in his hand crashed onto the valuable carpet with a "snap," shattering into pieces. The brown liquid spread rapidly, like an ugly scar.
It didn't matter who was captured! Capture those passersby, capture those police officers, he could watch from the sidelines, even coldly calculate how much benefit this could bring to his political career.
But, absolutely not his precious daughter! She was the apple of his eye! She was his everything!
"Quick! Quick!" He roared frantically at the assistants and secretaries in the office, who were already terrified and helpless, spittle flying, completely devoid of his usual elegant demeanor, "Connect me to the Ministry of Interior! Connect me to the Police Headquarters! Turn up the TV live broadcast signal to maximum! Twenty-four hours non-stop!
I want all of Paris to see that my daughter, the daughter of the Mayor of Paris, has been kidnapped by a madman!"
His eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse with anger and fear.
"Use all surveillance! All drones! Find out where that damned pigeon madman is going! Immediately! Now!"
The entire Mayor's office instantly descended into chaos, telephone rings, roars, and the sound of scattered documents rising and falling, like a sinking command center.
In the classroom, after watching Jaden and Chloé's figures disappear into the sky, everyone fell into a complex silence.
The crisis hanging over their heads was temporarily lifted, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but immediately, a deeper worry surged up.
"They... will they really be okay?" Mylène asked Juleka beside her in a tearful whisper, her voice full of fear.
"They definitely will," Alya clenched her fists, her gaze fixed on the window with unusual determination, "Jaden... he always has such confidence.
And…" Her gaze sharpened, as if searching for something, "Our heroes will definitely appear too."
"Jaden's courage... is truly beyond imagination."
Nathan looked down at his drawing board, realizing that he had unconsciously sketched a blurry, outstretched hand and a firm back with charcoal. He sighed with genuine admiration.
"His decision-making logic completely exceeds my calculation range." Max pushed up his glasses on his nose; the Marc robot beside him displayed a rapid stream of complex data on its screen, "Facing an A-level threat, actively exposing oneself to danger, and through rhetoric, turning another core hostage... The success rate of this behavior pattern in my system database is below 0.1%.
However, he succeeded. I need to update the Marc 'Human Irrational Behavior Decision Model.'"
Nino, Kim, and the other boys also looked on with admiration and shock. All they had thought of before was how to defend, how to hide.
But Jaden chose the most direct, boldest, and most legendary approach—active offense.
This audacity filled them with genuine admiration.
At this moment, in the hearts of all the classmates, Jaden's image had transcended the scope of "smart" and "reliable," rising to a near "heroic" height. Especially the girls, watching his disappearing figure, the existing goodwill in their hearts, fueled by the catalysts of "worry" and "admiration," fermented wildly, becoming more intense and more complex.
Marinette stared blankly out the window, feeling as if a part of her heart had been hollowed out, flying away with that figure.
She felt something in her satchel moving restlessly and eagerly.
It was Tikki.
"Marinette! Quick! Now is the best chance! They've created the perfect excuse for you!" Tikki urged in a full-strength whisper from inside her bag.
"But... but how do I get out?" Marinette replied in an equally quiet, anxious whisper.
"Pretend to cry! Say you're too worried about them, and your heart hurts from fear!
Tikki immediately offered her a suggestion, then said: You need to go to the bathroom to calm down! No one will suspect a kind girl worried about her friends! Quick!"
Marinette's eyes instantly lit up; she thought this plan was flawless. She immediately began to gather her emotions; as soon as she thought of Jaden protecting Chloé by facing danger himself, that worry transformed into real tears.
Her eyes reddened, and large, glistening tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Waaah waaah waaah... Jaden... and Chloé... will they be in danger...?" She buried her face on her desk, her shoulders shaking, crying sadly.
"Marinette, don't be like this... they'll be fine." Seeing this, Alya immediately came over and gently patted her back to comfort her.
"I...I'm fine," Marinette said, looking up at Alya with teary, red eyes, and sobbing as she stood up. "I just...feel a bit unwell, like I can't breathe. I want to go to the restroom, wash my face with cold water, and calm down..."
"Go, go, I'll go with you," Alya said, still worried.
"No, Alya, thank you," Marinette shook her head. "I want to be alone...to calm down."
With that, she covered her face, feigning heartbreak, and quickly ran out of the classroom.
Watching Marinette's retreating back, Alya thought she was truly frightened and sighed worriedly.
Just then, Adrien, who had been silent, suddenly stood up from his seat.
"Um...Caline Teacher," he said to the teacher on the podium, a difficult and apologetic expression on his face.
"I'm sorry, my father just sent me an urgent message."
"He...temporarily arranged some very important work for me, and I must leave now."
His action and excuse immediately solidified his image as "unsociable" and a "rich young master whose family controls him tightly and is devoid of emotion" in the ears of the other classmates.
At a time when the entire class was concerned about the safety of the hostages, he was leaving because of "work"?
Adrien could feel the even colder gazes from around him, and a bitter feeling welled up in his heart, but he could only maintain that polite yet distant apology on his face.
Although Caline Teacher also felt it was a bit inappropriate, during such a special period, she couldn't force a student who claimed to have "urgent work" to stay.
She could only nod: "Alright, Adrien. Please be careful on your way."
"Thank you, Teacher." Adrien finished speaking, picked up his backpack, and quickly and silently left the classroom under the gazes of everyone, which almost seemed to freeze him.
The two left one after another, one rushing to the empty women's restroom, and the other walking to the equally quiet men's restroom on the other side.
"Tikki! Your idea just now was brilliant! It didn't arouse anyone's suspicion at all!" Marinette closed the stall door and excitedly whispered to Tikki in her satchel.
"Stop chattering! Paris needs you! Transform now!" Tikki urged seriously.
"Okay!"
"Tikki, spots on!"
A red light flashed in the small stall, and the brave and determined Ladybug silently swung out from the high window of the restroom the next second, her red figure swiftly moving through the shadows of the buildings.
On the other side, Adrien also complained to Plagg in his pocket: "Now it's done. My impression among everyone was already bad, and now leaving midway at a time like this, they must hate me even more."
"I feel like our relationship is already so stiff it could make a sound."
"Relationships and all that, you'll have plenty of time to slowly make up for it while wearing your designer clothes later!"
Plagg said impatiently, muttering indistinctly as it chewed on a small piece of secretly hidden cheese. "Now, it's time for the much-anticipated superstar—Cat Noir—to make his appearance!"
"Stop sighing like a prom prince with no date, hurry up!"
"You're right...Plagg, claws out!"
A lithe black figure followed closely behind. He swung his metal staff, nimbly leaping across the rooftops of Paris, closely following the massive pigeon cloud, and rapidly heading towards the Eiffel Tower.
The top observation deck of the Eiffel Tower had now become Mr. Pigeon's personal, temporary throne, filled with the smell of bird droppings and feathers.
He and his pigeon army completely occupied the place. Jaden and Chloé were "invited" to the center of the platform.
Chloé was too scared to say a word, only able to tightly, with all her might, grip the corner of Jaden's shirt.
"How about it? The view here is pretty good, isn't it?"
Mr. Pigeon stood at the edge of the platform, spreading his arms like a clumsy tour guide, proudly showing off the view of Paris he had "conquered," which overlooked the entire city.
Chloé was too scared to say a word, only clinging desperately to Jaden's shirt corner, treating him as her only lifeline.
And Mr. Pigeon, after admiring the scenery for a moment and satisfying his little vanity, seemed to recall his unfinished, grand "artistic dream."
He pulled out a silver voice recorder from his pocket, "borrowed" from some unfortunate tourist, and walked up to Jaden.
"Come on! My distinguished, unique voice actor, sir!"
He reverently and expectantly handed over the voice recorder, his expression as if he were handing a paintbrush and chisel to Michelangelo.
"It's time! Unleash your unparalleled talent and provide a powerful, glorious, and sorrowful narration for me and my children, for our righteous and great endeavor."
Jaden looked at the small voice recorder in his hand, then at the pigeons around him, whose black beady eyes were vigilantly fixed on him, and an expression mixed with "Are you kidding me?" and "Why should I go crazy with you here?" appeared on his face.
"Voice acting?"
He raised an eyebrow, and asked in a flat tone, "Now? Here?"
"Yes! Right now! Right here!" Mr. Pigeon insisted, his eyes gleaming with a fanatical artistic light. "Only at the pinnacle of Paris, accompanied by the victorious wings of my children, can the greatest work be born!"
Jaden sighed long and helplessly. He took the cold voice recorder, pressed the record button, then cleared his throat and, in a dispassionate tone, as if reading an instruction manual, casually recited a few lines: "Under the blue sky of Paris, a group of free souls are flying. They are messengers of peace, and friends of the city..."
"No! No! Stop!" Mr. Pigeon immediately jumped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, rudely interrupting him, his face filled with the immense disappointment and dissatisfaction of an artist whose dream had been desecrated.
"That's not the feeling! Not at all! Your voice lacks that...that majesty from yesterday's video!"
"That loneliness!"
"That damned tragic grandeur, as if betrayed by the whole world, yet still standing tall!"
"An epic entrance narration, right!"
He almost gesticulated wildly, using his meager vocabulary, trying to describe to Jaden the ideal "villain BGM" in his mind.
Jaden was utterly speechless by his deranged appearance.
He began to seriously consider whether Hawk Moth had also siphoned off their intelligence when he performed the Akumatization on these people.
To give a flock of pigeons an epic tragic feel? How was this person's brain even wired?
"Troublesome..." he muttered softly in Chinese.
But to buy time, and to appease this madman who could go berserk at any moment, he decided to fulfill this eccentric villain's wish.
He closed his eyes, shutting out the surrounding noise and the pigeons' unique scent.
In his mind, he began to replay everything he had experienced yesterday and this morning: being verbally pierced to the core by Hawk Moth, and the terrifyingly real nightmare.
That eternal loneliness of being ostracized by the whole world.
That profound pain of knowing everything, yet being unable to share it with anyone.
That false feeling of wanting to fit in, but being cruelly proven by reality to be merely an "anomaly."
And that...crazy obsession to break free from it all, to create his own perfect world, free from sorrow...He extracted these complex, dark, yet incredibly real emotions, little by little, from the depths of his soul, and then, slowly, infused them into his voice.
When he opened his eyes again, his gaze had changed.
It was no longer the usual calm and languidness, but a bottomless vortex, as if burning with a ghostly blue flame.
He spoke again, his voice completely transformed.
It was a deep, hoarse, metallic, magnetic voice. Every word seemed to have been tempered from the endless dark abyss, carrying cold despair and a hint of burning hope, suppressed to its extreme, yet madly burning.
"I...was born in a forgotten corner..." His voice was not loud, yet it seemed to possess a mysterious magic, instantly quieting the entire noisy tower top.
Chloé stopped trembling, Mr. Pigeon stopped gesticulating, and even the circling pigeons seemed to slow their flight.
"The world calls me an 'anomaly,' and dismisses my loved ones and kin as a flying 'plague'..."
"They stole my sunshine, plundered my home, and trampled my humble yet noble dignity..."
"But today! I will no longer be silent!"
His voice suddenly rose, filled with a long-suppressed, about-to-erupt, majestic power!
"Listen! These myriad wings are the roar of my unyielding will over Paris! Look! This grey torrent is the burning fire of my revenge in the steel jungle!"
"I am not some ridiculous 'Mr. Pigeon'..."
He was about to improvise a cooler, more fitting name for the atmosphere, like "King of the Sky Wings" or "Grey Calamity."
But his words were mercilessly interrupted by two figures descending from the sky like meteors.
"I think you're just a hopeless madman who likes to play with birds!"
It was Cat Noir! He swung his infinitely extendable metal staff, landing steadily on the platform's railing with an extremely dashing posture. He looked down, his emerald eyes filled with a flippant, feline mockery.
Immediately after, a dazzling red figure, using her incredibly flexible yo-yo, landed deftly on the other side of the platform, like the most elegant gymnast.
"Your game is over, Mr. Pigeon! Release the hostages immediately!" Ladybug's voice was clear and filled with an undeniable sense of justice. She struck a battle pose, her red combat suit gleaming in the sunlight.
The two heroes had finally arrived!
Jaden's voice abruptly stopped. The dark and tragic atmosphere, so painstakingly cultivated, was instantly shattered, vanishing without a trace.
But Mr. Pigeon, standing in front of him, and Chloé, clinging tightly to his shirt corner, were both stunned into silence.
Mr. Pigeon was because he felt this voice...these lines...were simply a stroke of genius! It was what he had dreamed of! This was no longer just a simple narration; this was a hymn that could give "soul" to his actions! His gaze at Jaden had changed from "expectation" to "fanatical adoration."
And Chloé, it was because she had never heard Jaden speak in such a voice. The bottomless loneliness and tangible sorrow contained within that voice made her feel as if her heart was being fiercely squeezed by an invisible hand.
She looked at Jaden's profile, which had returned to calm after speaking, and for a moment, she was lost in thought.
So...beneath his perpetually calm and indifferent expression, was such a thing hidden?
"Excellent! Excellent! Unparalleled!" Mr. Pigeon clapped his hands excitedly (or rather, clapped them like a seal). "That's the feeling! My dear voice actor! Once I deal with these two annoying guys in tights..."