Of the Eleventh

"Adrien Agreste! Oh my god, that's Adrien Agreste!" He rolled painfully onto his back and stared up at the smoked-over sky, the excitable flash of television cameras burning into his periphery. So the transformation had worn off, then. With his luck, he really should have seen it coming. A "Chat Noir detransforms mid-battle on national television" fic :3