When something is named, it can no longer be denied. This thought resonated with Adrien as he practiced Darkness magic. He came to cherish its name. He could now call for that which had always been with him: it had been his curiosity and his fear, his anxiety and his respite, the chaos that he held and that held him. The more he sat with this old companion, the more he felt like he owed it an apology: he had so often blamed it when he felt himself as too much, and as not enough. It was always something about him that he chose to hate, something about him that was at fault for all that he couldn't be. But it was himself, after all, and he'd already decided to see himself with different, unclouded, truthful eyes - with Val's eyes, always so infallibly kind, never wishing for him to be anything but himself, no matter what.