Meanwhile, at Agreste Mansion, silence was a tangible presence.
It resided in the cavernous, towering ceilings, flowed over the cold, smooth marble floors, and lurked in every blank-eyed portrait of an ancestor hanging on the walls.
It wasn't a home, but rather a colossal, opulent mausoleum built to commemorate some long-lost glory.
Adrien's footsteps were the only discordant sound in this dead silence.
"Oh no, oh no, I'm going to be late!"
He muttered, rushing out of his bedroom, which was larger than a typical living room, his satchel strap bouncing on his shoulder.
He took the wide, spiral staircase, wide enough for a car to drive up, two steps at a time, moving lightly and swiftly.
Just as he was about to reach the bottom of the stairs, a voice made him freeze in place.
It was his father's voice.
He rarely heard his father's voice at this time, in this place.
Gabriel usually stayed in his forbidden studio like a ghost.
Adrien instinctively retracted the foot he had already stepped out with, then hid behind a massive, intricately carved pillar at the turn of the staircase, only peeking out half his head.
He saw his father standing at the door of his studio, his back to the stairs, talking on the phone.
"...This thing has always been with me,"
Gabriel's voice was calm and unruffled, as if stating the weather.
"Don't worry, there won't be any accidents."
Adrien held his breath. A thing? What thing?
Gabriel hung up the phone and walked to the portrait of his deceased wife, Emilie, on the studio wall.
His mother in the painting smiled gently, her golden hair like a waterfall, her green eyes filled with all the tenderness in the world.
Adrien had grown up seeing it, but had never felt the painting was so mysterious and distant.
Gabriel reached out and lightly pressed an inconspicuous corner of the ornate frame.
"Click."
A faint mechanical sound, almost swallowed by the silence of the vast hall, rang out.
The portrait, like a door, silently swung open, revealing a safe with a metallic sheen.
Adrien's heart skipped a beat.
He had lived in this house for over a decade, but had never known that such a secret was hidden behind his mother's painting.
He saw his father skillfully turn the dial, open the safe, and place something that looked like a rectangular box, whose exact appearance he couldn't make out, inside.
With a dull, heavy thud as the door closed, all secrets were once again locked behind that steel.
His father reset the painting, and everything returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.
Just as Adrien thought he was about to leave, another phone in his pocket rang.
Gabriel answered the phone, and this time, His tone switched back to that of the ruthless fashion mogul.
"...No,"
There was a hint of impatience in his voice.
"The theme colors for that collection must be absolute black and white; any superfluous color is a desecration of the design.
As for the person to wear it... are you questioning my judgment?"
The other end of the phone seemed to be explaining something.
"Nathalie will call you,"
Gabriel interrupted the other party, leaving no room for argument.
"She will tell you the specific requirements. Also, I do not allow anyone to refute any of my opinions."
He hung up the phone, without even saying goodbye. Then, he turned and walked towards the main door.
Adrien's heart was in his throat, and he quickly pulled his entire body back behind the pillar.
He listened to the regular, steady footsteps of leather shoes passing his hiding place, fading into the distance, until the door was opened and closed by the Bodyguard, and the entire hall returned to that suffocating silence.
He slowly let out a breath and emerged from behind the pillar.
"Woah,"
Plagg, peeking her little head out from his collar, said, "Your father is quite the secret enthusiast.
What do you think he's hidden behind your mother's portrait, a treasure?"
"Don't talk nonsense, Plagg,"
Adrien whispered, but his gaze couldn't leave the portrait, "That… that's his father's secret."
"Secrets are meant to be discovered!"
Plagg flew out from him, circled in the air, Her tone full of instigation.
"Go look! Open it! Open it!"
Adrien's heart began to pound violently. Half curiosity, half fear.
He took a few steps forward and stood before his mother's portrait.
He reached out his hand, almost touching the cold frame, but at the last moment, he abruptly pulled it back.
"No…"
He shook his head, taking a step back.
"I can't do this. If his father found out, he would be disappointed in me... He never wants me to mess with his things, and besides, I don't know the password, do I?"
"Ugh, how disappointing!" Plagg complained, completely unable to understand such human indecisiveness.
It circled the safe, sniffing with its nose, and then a mischievous gleam flashed in the eyes of the little sprite who disregarded all rules.
"But who said you had to open it with a password?"
With that, its tiny body transformed into a black phantom, directly penetrating the safe door, made of special alloy, and disappeared inside.
"Plagg!"
Adrien exclaimed in alarm, lowering his voice in a gasp. "Come out! Don't mess with my father's things!"
A muffled rummaging sound came from inside the safe, along with Plagg's indistinct complaint:
"What the… it's pitch black… not even a hint of cheese…"
Adrien was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan.
He no longer cared about the password, nor his father's prohibition; now he just wanted to pull out that lawless little sprite.
He rushed forward, placing both hands directly on the cold, round dial handle, trying to twist it open with force.
At the moment his palm touched the safe, he didn't notice a faint blue halo silently lighting up in the center of the dial.
An almost invisible beam of light scanned his palm from top to bottom.
"Identifying identity…"
"Biometric match: Adrien Agreste"
"Permission confirmed: Level 2 access (owner's direct relative)"
"Command: Disable all protective measures"
"Click."
Adrien felt the handle in his hand loosen, and the safe door, which he thought was impregnable, was easily pulled open by him.
He was completely stunned.
Before he could figure out what was happening, Plagg's displeased shout came from inside the safe: "There's nothing! Only an old, tattered book! Not even a crumb of cheese!"
With that shout, a heavy, dark-brown leather-bound book, which looked very old, was thrown out of the safe.
"Careful!"
Adrien scrambled to catch it, finally managing to cradle it in his arms before the book hit the ground.
"There's nothing else but this book!"
Plagg complained, also flying out of the safe, looking disappointed.
Adrien held the heavy book, His heart still pounding.
On the cover of the book, a strange symbol was branded, using a type of ancient hieroglyphic writing he couldn't understand at all.
The pages, yellowed with age, emitted an odor of old paper mixed with dust.
With a nervous heart, he slowly opened the book.
The pages opened, revealing countless exquisite, hand-drawn illustrations.
The art style was ancient and mysterious, every stroke filled with a sense of power.
It depicted all sorts of unheard-of superheroes. There was a ladybug hero dressed in ancient Egyptian attire, a Black Cat warrior in medieval armor, and a fox messenger from the distant East wielding a flute… "Hmm,"
Plagg leaned over for a look, tilting her head. "This book… I think I've seen it somewhere…"
But then, its attention was drawn to its own stomach.
"Never mind, Adrien, where's my cheese? I need to recharge!"
Adrien completely ignored it.
His trembling hand turned to the next page.
It was Black Cat and miraculous.
The images in the painting were slightly different from their current forms, but the iconic Black Cat and ladybug elements were consistent.
"Why… would his father have this book?" he murmured to himself.
His fingers continued to flip back, and then, he saw an image that almost froze the blood in his veins.
It was Hawk Moth.
The Hawk Moth in the painting wore the same purple suit as now, a silver mask, and held a scepter, with countless fluttering butterflies in the background.
The style of this painting was clearly several centuries old.
Why would his father's book… have a painting of Hawk Moth?
His breathing began to quicken, and an ominous premonition began to entwine itself around His heart .
He continued flipping, seeing more images of miraculous holders and their corresponding small creatures, called "kwamis."
Then, in his mind, like lightning, several seemingly unrelated clues connected.
He remembered that Master Fu had lost three crucial items.
The first was Jaden's "heirloom"—the broken peacock brooch, which was now in Hawk Moth's hands.
The second was the butterfly mirok fantique, also in Hawk Moth's hands, becoming the source of his evil deeds.
So… the remaining third item was a spellbook containing all the secrets of the miraculous.
Adrien's gaze was fixed on the book in his hands.
"This… this can't be…"
His lips began to turn white.
"This book… is the spellbook that Master Fu lost… which means… my father…"
"My father possesses the spellbook."
This conclusion, like a thunderclap, exploded in his mind.
Just then, clear footsteps approached from the entrance of the hall, gradually getting closer.
Adrien, like a startled rabbit, suddenly snapped back to reality. He didn't have time to think, and with the fastest speed, he stuffed the book, which could overturn his entire world, into his large satchel.
Then he closed the safe door and put his mother's painting back in place, all completed just a second before the footsteps reached the studio door.
"Adrien."
Nathalie's voice came from the doorway; she pushed up her glasses and looked at him expressionlessly. "You're going to be late for school."
Behind her, the Bodyguard, silent as a mountain, stood still.
Adrien turned his back to them, took a deep breath, and tried to calm his pounding heart and trembling hands.
Then, he turned around, forcing a smile that was as natural as possible.
"Okay, Nathalie. I'll be right there."
He grabbed the strap of his satchel; the weight of the book now felt as heavy as all the world's secrets on his shoulder.