A/N: Alrighty, so this takes place during the first chapter of Prophe-Cass' After the Plague. You'll need to have read it for this to make sense!

Karen is my OC. She lives with her mom and Miles on the outskirts of Paris.

"Come home."

Two texted words. Two simple words conveying only a shred of the sender's urgency. She can't help but wonder. What if?

"Now."

What if she'd been faster.

"Where are you?"

What if she'd responded.

"Come home."

What if she'd known.

"..."

When the messages silence, Karen runs.

Runs across the silent fields.

Runs toward the screams.

Runs toward a city of smoke.

No, not smoke… She stops and raises a hand.

Ash?

"Whats on fire" Karen texts, eyes on the sky. She presses send and runs.

The closer she gets, the worse it looks. The sky over Paris is lost in a fog of black. It looks dark as night, and even the outskirts are dim.

Karen's heart clenches. She coughs on the thick ash.

Where's the fire? There's no orange glow

She presses call and runs, uncaring that her mom's phone speaker is broken. "Mom, just pick up! I need to know you're okay!"

Karen chokes and spits. Her saliva is black with ash. Still, she runs.

"Come on, Mom!"

Her eyes find her small house, breathing out a sigh when she sees movement. She lowers her phone.

"Mom!"

The figure steps outside and she stops.

It's not her mom.

"Chat Noir…?"

It's Chat Noir, but… wrong. His suit is as white as bleached bones, he's as pale as a ghost. His blank eyes are chips of ice.

"What's going on?"

Black specks trickle between his claws. What did he…?

Karen's phone remains silent, and that's when she realizes.

"What have you done?!" Karen screams.

Chat throws his head back, fangs bared in a dark, chilling laugh. He turns and vanishes into the ashy air, that terrifying cackle echoing back.

Karen's eyes dart back to her silent house.

"Mom! Miles!"

Karen's scream covers the vestiges of Chat's laughter. She tears to the house, battered door slamming against the wall hard enough to shudder the house.

Or maybe she's the only thing shaking.

Dish shards cover the floor, broken glass winks in the dim sunlight. The kitchen table is across the room.

Her mom's phone is on the counter. Karen picks it up and stares at the half-finished message.

"Are you"

"Mom?" Her voice, a whisper, is too loud. "Miles?"

A trail of ash leads her out of the kitchen, down the hall where picture frames lay broken on the floor. Claw marks -too big to be from anything but Chat Noir- mark the walls.

The ash goes on, to Miles' room.

The door is splintered in half and tossed down the hall. Inside, Legos and action figures are scattered on the floor. Blankets are piled in the corner with his little art table and books, like a fort?

The ash leads to the fort, so Karen follows it. Steps over the discarded socks Miles never picks up. Sidesteps the tipped chair. Peeks into the fort.

Karen's knees hit ash-dusted carpet, tears flooding her eyes and bile in her throat.

Miles isn't there. Neither is their mom.

Nothing but ash.

Nothing but ash and a Chat plushie grinning at the ceiling with its one button eye.