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Ladybug was down, bound, and almost out. Almost. But Ladybug wouldn't give up, not when Paris needed her. Not when her Chaton needed her. She looked around, vision dramatically turning gray-scale as she combed the environment for anything she could use. Aha, there was only one thing left, wasn't there? Her arms were useless, trapped in magic cement that defied physical laws and adhered her to the tower. But there was another thing that defied physical laws on her person, one she could leverage against the columnal power of The Cementalist.
He was fat, there was no nice way to say it; but it wasn't really his fault, as he was Akumatized while in contact with his cement truck. All 12 meters long and however many tons of steel and cement were his Akumatized object, but now he was perilously high in the sky as he built the world's largest spire, even taller than the Eiffel Tower. Not even he could get down safely now, the force of falling would be enough to shatter his Akumatized object. But he didn't care, the victims never did, did they? Judgment clouded by negative emotions and foreign control, they single-mindedly lock onto a single task and perform it endlessly and ruthlessly, almost mindlessly.
Still, it was convenient for Ladybug. She was trapped near the ground, and The Cementalist was thankfully disobeying Hawkmoth's demands to fetch the Miraculous as he built his tower up and up. Chat Noir was... somewhere? He got hit by a payload of cement while she was strategizing, so he's probably stuck to a wall somewhere. Maybe he'll get out, he would be able to end this battle instantly with a single cataclysm now, but since Ladybug was now part of The Cementalist's tower, she couldn't really go out and find him. Like an upside down maidenhead, she adorned the walls of the mighty spire, but she had some freedom. Just one. Her legs. And she was about to give The Cementalist a lesson in architecture and magic, as she stretched, flexed, and wrapped her one trump card about the cement spire, her invulnerable thighs.
The suits give them super strength. No, it's more than a suit, it's a full-body transformation. It overlaps reality entirely, covering up their frail physical form with a 3-dimensional magical vehicle they can embody with all the senses. And now her super strength is going to be put to the test in the ultimate isometric exercise, the immobile crushing thigh grip.
Ladybug can't lift up a spire this big, of course. That'd be crazy. She can lift cars just fine, and semi's and trucks are pushing it a bit, but that's mostly her arms with some bracing from the legs. The legs themselves can press so much more, but rarely does the score on some leg machine ever matter compared to actual mobile maneuvers and parkour on the battlefield. But she can exert force, and she's invulnerable, and she doesn't tire easily, and she doesn't really have anything else to do, so she might as well. The cracks start small.
They stretch out slowly, bits and pieces of concrete flaking and snapping off as her muscles press into the structure. But concrete doesn't recover easily, and the wounds don't heal, especially as more force continues to be applied. As concrete dust and chips are lost, air rushes in, and there is space for friction. Opposing planes of cement meet, and the weight of the structure and force flowing through Ladybug's legs pushes friction to it's limit. The structure ever so subtly starts to raise a degree or two.
The spire itself is rising, as The Cementalist is still gleefully piling more cement up on top, dreaming of building a bridge between the earth and the Moon, much to the chagrin of every astronomer on earth. The added weight makes Ladybug's job easier.
She pulls back her toes, flexing her feet and pulling her calves taut. She hasn't moved in minutes before this, and the entirety of her body is generating tremendous quantities of force. At first it was only her legs, thighs crushing the cement curves. But her calves too press inward, her abs quaking in place, her bound arms bracing her torso as every muscle, every atom, every iota of her being is focused into a single destructive contraction through her mighty legs.
Cement should be given credit, it's a good building material. Strong. Heavy. Rigid. Resistant to lots of bad things that can happen to buildings, holding a lot of weight. But even it can deform under strain, and it's brittle nature and inability to heal itself doom it to the inevitable pitfall of entropy. As Ladybug's thighs rage, silent waves of thunder course through the mineral lattice. The tiny stress fractures from before become long chasms, they split and spider along, extending up and down the spire as if to mimic some desert diorama. The chasms go deep, too, and even more space is displaced with air as dust falls. Gravity keeps weighing down as the pillar becomes weaker, and the stone almost seeps downward microscopically, with glacial movement as the sheet weight of stone begs to creep closer to the earth. The gaps in the stone give it room too, and pockets of air are trapped. Compressed. Pressurized.
What does happen when an unstoppable force meets and immovable object, Ladybug wonders? Her thunderous thighs haven't moved in minutes. Tens of minutes. Has it been half an hour? An hour? She hasn't seen anyone, in her silent vigil. She's already gotten over the blood rushing to her head, already forced it back down her body towards her leg with her facial muscles. Can't afford any inefficiency here, all the power and blood must be focused and transmitted through her thunderous thighs. She begins to hear things, crackles, snaps, pops. Is that metal? Rushing water? Is she going crazy, are her eardrums suffering from the intense force? Is her blood pressure rising from her incredible exertion? Or is it working, is the building starting to crumble?
Her eyes have been closed, she was focused and there was nothing to see, but now as the sounds get louder her eyes spring open when she hears an explosion. It's a fire hydrant! Below her, at street level, a fire hydrant has exploded. The gentle shuddering of the strained cement beneath her is quaking deeply now, and her hearing can catch rattling from beneath a manhole that just popped off it's cover. The sewers are deforming in the street, the spire is growing too tall, too heavy, and she's squeezing too strongly. She gasps for air, and the tower vibrates with her lungs, and another fire hydrant in the distance explodes. The quakes are ripping the infrastructure apart, but yet The Cementalist's spire has yet to fall. She inhales deeply, rotates her ankles a few times to stretch, and prepares for another set. The idea that this could be the end, or this could be her last squeeze, she's already squeezed such thoughts out minutes ago. She is Ladybug, invulnerable, invincible, and nothing will stand in her way. She pulls her legs back, feeling tension flowing out of her joints as she stretches the knees as well, and let's her glutes and hamstrings rest for a second. This will be the leg press of the ages. The one that will fell the greatest tower in the world, or would be if The Cementalist had earned that by breaking into the exosphere.
Like the mandibles of a ladybug closing in on a juicy aphid, her legs strike once again! The tower immediately shudders. It had grown lax, relaxed, with only gravity to stress it, yet the assault immediately sends quakes all the way along the column. Even The Cementalist feels it, and he grows confused and looks down to see what's going on down there. Loud BANGS begin to echo, and large blasts of dust and cement shoot off from the tower! The force of Ladybug's miraculous thighs have ripped cavernous ravines all along the circumference of the spire, and the air pockets that have been building up and pressurized beneath the surface begin to explode. This expedites the crumbling, and the cracks begin to shoot up and down the tower at triple, quadruple, quintuple the speed! More explosions, more dust, entire clouds forming along the tower as it loses more mass and less structural integrity. And still, Ladybug's thighs grind.
'My feet must touch. My feet must touch. My feet must touch. Nothing else matters, but my feet touching. Every muscle, every vein, must bend to the end of touching one foot to the other, no matter the mountain in my way' Ladybug repeats in her head, like a mantra. Such a simple exercise, like touching one's toes or doing one's bed in the morning. And it's the only thing she must do to win, she reasons. He's too high up, he'll fall and crack. But simple things are never easy, and all the cement in the world is beneath her feet, as she wills them to be united like lost lovers. Her face is purple, a compromise between red and blue, in exertion; and she summons all her remaining willpower and thought to will Creation into her legs. She cannot destroy, not directly, with the Yang power of Tikki, but if she can create power she can close her legs like mighty fangs, the most powerful pliers in existence closing upon its prey.
KA-BOOM! In one final devastating contraction, she wrenches her legs together into one closed circle, and the deed is done. The cement loses all solidity, becoming dust under the sheer pressure, erupting forth in great billows. Explosions shake her body as the entire spire convulses, quakes ripping the entire shaft apart along its entire length. She freefalls to the earth for a second, before realizing she was actually pretty close to the ground and should probably flip around to land on her feet. Only after she lands does she notice her arms are free now, both are numb and limp. She spends some moments trying to shake them out and revive them before the akuma shows up. Eyes to the sky, she sees the tower tilting northeastward and clouds of dust trailing from it as it arcs slowly down through every single layer of Earth's atmosphere. The thing easily had to be over 800km tall, it was already in space. Maybe if Ladybug hadn't stopped him, he would have reached halfway to the moon, eventually.
Ladybug was a bit worried at first, The Cementalist was at the top of the tower at all points of its construction. If it was too tall, and the tower fell, he'd be really far away and she may not be able to capture the Akuma, at least not without the help of the Horse Miraculous. Fetching Max right now would be really inconvenient and tiresome, and still probably too slow. However, it seems that luck was in her favor today (thanks Tikki) as The Cementalist was falling straight towards Paris, not... Berlin? Oooh, ouch. Yeah, this tower is REALLY tall, and there's no way that a tower falling northeast at that angle isn't going to destroy the entirety of Berlin, and everything between Paris and there. Better get this dealt with before it finishes falling.
The road is destroyed, utterly, where he falls. It's a bit gruesome, but luckily he was more cement-mixer-like than human-like, as he introduced the ground to terminal velocity. Magic resilience wasn't enough to save him, but the Akuma was released without any apparent trauma. Ladybug had just enough time to regain feeling in her arms to pull out her yo-yo and capture it, and prepared to return everything to normal.
While this was going on, just a few rooftops away, Chat Noir fell to his knees. His miraculous beeped it's final warning, and a green flash wiped away all traces of his power, but a single black Kwami.
Adrien was staring up, mouth agape, eyes overwhelmed and dead. His kwami, usually noisy and demanding for cheese, was completely silent, tail hanging straight down, somber. Contemplative.
Before their vision; the tallest, thickest, hardest, greatest, most phallic structure ever known to grace the surface of the earth fell, temporarily slaughtering millions of French and German people alike as it defaced the surface of the earth.
Reduced to dust and ruins by Ladybug's thighs.
Every emotion left Adrien's face slack and drained. Hope. Dread. Excitement. Grief. Warmth. Worry. Ecstasy. Terror. A single tear fell down his cheek as he turned towards his partner in abject horror and arousal.
Plagg's eyes were slanted, his mind guarded. He was a timeless being, having seen countless mortals born and perish before him. He knew destruction and death like no other, and had wished many a valiant warrior off to their demise. He turned now, and offered Adrien the only thing a god could; his solemn condolences.