The Widow's Spiders

Chapter 1

Marinette POV

Paris, France

I've always known I was different, but I didn't know why, specifically, until today. You see, I knew I was adopted, having different colored eyes than anyone in my family tends to do that, but I didn't know my biological mother, who has no clue I exist, is an assassin. AN ASSASSIN! Well, technically a spy, but I'm still not sure how I feel about that. Who kills for a living? But at the very least I suppose it would make my obsession with weapons of all types, my surprising physical prowess, my weird ability to sink into the shadows, and pretty much everything else about me. Huh, I thought. Why am I not as surprised as I probably should be? Maybe because I always knew, in a way. I shook my head and opened the secret compartment hidden behind my bed before I pulled out my suit.

It was a black bodysuit with four red, yellow, and orange panels falling from a belt around my waist. The panels looked like a traditional Asian warrior skirt, while the colors made it look like a phoenix tail. There were hidden pockets on the underside of the panels that held a grappling hook, four daggers, a pair of dual batons, and a can of pepper spray. This isn't normal, I thought. Normal people wouldn't carry pepper spray as a vigilante. Scratch that! Normal people wouldn't even BE vigilantes! I put my two guns into their holsters on my thighs. Normal people aren't me. I tied my hood up around my head, making sure that the edge covered my face, so only my eyes were visible. The upper section of the suit had orange, yellow, and red lining on the arms and chest, while ash-colored armor covered my back, forearms, upper arms, and chest/stomach. My back held a pair of katanas with a green jewel on the top of the handle and a blue gem on the bottom.

I opened the trapdoor to my balcony before jumping off. I heard the screams of civilians as I fell. Mid-fall I whipped out my grappling hook and swung up to a nearby roof. I met up with my partner on top of the Eiffel Tower, observing his guest, a girl with reddish-orange hair with silver streaking it, tied into a high ponytail. Her costume was entirely black, and she was barely visible at night. As she spread her arms, you could see the twin silver daggers at her side, as well as the silver stars under her cloth wings that flew.

"Hey, Silverstar!" I called out to her. When she saw me, she smiled and waved, her goldish auburn eyes twinkling. I've always thought it was bold of her not to wear a mask.

"Hello, Phoenix!" She called back, jumping to the ledge I was on. "What's new?"

"Did you just ask me what was new?" I asked, surprised. "Well, since you've asked, I'm the daughter of a famous spy."

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked, nearly slipping on the building she was balancing on. Prophet, our other partner, loses his grip on his grappling hook midswing before flipping onto a railing.

"You mean to tell me that you are the child of Black Widow!?" Prophet exclaimed, despite me not having said who it was.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" I asked, concerned at how obvious it must be.

"There aren't many, if any, other famous spies, plus your hair is naturally reddish, and your eyes are kinda green," Prophet said. I nodded. It was a fair assumption, especially since he's known me since before I dyed my hair black.

"How'd you find out?" Silverstar asked, regaining her balance on the beam, and looking mildly concerned. She was always looking out for us and treating us like her little siblings despite the fact both of us were older than her. I wasn't quite ready to share so I deflected the question. 

"I-wait, Silverstar, where's your other dagger?" She looked down, but I could tell she looked guilty. "Silvie..." I said, subtly guilting her into telling me.