Rat King

by VioletAnarchist

Summary:

Power is a game. And Rat is done playing by their rules.

Rat was the Admin. The Owner. The Modder. More powerful than watchers, more cunning than rule-breakers. But when the watchers came for him, even he couldn't stop them. Snatched from his world—Content SMP—and dragged into the City of Stolen Lives, a place where the silenced rot and death is currency, Rat is left with nothing.

But Rat is smart. And Rat has teeth.

To escape, he’ll need to do the impossible: unite the divided factions, outwit the city’s traps, and turn the death sentence into a throne. If he fails, he vanishes like the rest. If he wins? He becomes something new. Something terrifying.

Will the city devour him?

Chapter 1

Rat woke up uncomfortable. Now this is normal for him, well, at least as normal as anything is for him. His server, the Content SMP, was designed for insanity to unravel, and he and all his server mates loved it. There were fights, sure, but well, Rat didn’t mind.

He was a shared admin with his sister. He was top dog, a modder, all-powerful. His server, unlike some of the public ones, was made specifically for modders— incredibly powerful players who didn’t need to abide by anyone else.

Rat usually was quickly able to tell where he was and deduce who put him there by leftover code, context clues, or even because whoever had dumped him would be stood over him, gloating.

But no.

Rat was somewhere in a back alley, a street not his server of green hills and rustic houses. No, this back alley was somewhat modern, a city alleyway. He had been on some public servers and private servers like this—more modern, sleek, close-knit or spread out, industrial. Rat sighed and crawled up on the wall. He had been slumped in a gutter, of all things. It reeked. It all reeked. He looked down at his dress and sighed. It was tattered, annoyingly so.

Rat sighed. He didn’t know where he was, certainly not Content SMP. He didn’t know how he got here. Hopefully none of his server mates would dump him in his sleep. And most importantly, he looked down...

His communicator was buzzing strangely. He picked it up, and sure enough the screen was black apart from a low dark grain, like it was flickering but not quite, like it was void-touched but too fast. It was strange...

Rat stepped out and breathed in. His comm may not be working, but Rat was a modder. He was not made for the constraints of admin magic. He was bone, blood, and code. He was made of things bigger than most players. Anyone could learn to be a modder, but glitches and defrag were so dangerous, few took the risk. Those who did, though, became almost gods.

Rat looked at the fabric of the world—strange and thick and uncomfortably weaved, as if it was specifically made to keep people in. The void-touched comm system was explained. If this magic was so thickly woven, no signal would get out. He looked up at the sky.

It was grey and dreary and filled with ones and zeros as far as he could see. Rat was not great at server modding specifically—his speciality in weapons and graphics was useful but not encompassing. But he knew enough. He was not in Content SMP.

He was in the city, the dark city. This server, if you could even call it that, was considered a dumping ground for players too dangerous or knowledgeable or dangerous to be left to their own devices. Glitches, PVP gods, monsters of sparks and magic were dumped here when they needed help.

Rat hated the place, lobbied against it. He knew only rumour of what happened, and it was never good. They got no outside help, no seeds, no water. They had rubbish and scraps thrown their way. The server was more a wasteland for the admins of well-off public servers to send their castaways.

And Rat was here...

Rat was here and he had no idea why.

Well, he must have an idea, but it burned him.

Someone was trying to get rid of him.

It was not one of his server mates, something he needed to take some reassurance in. None of his server mates were that cruel. Sure, they played games of violence and war, but they never did this type of thing. He did not think about the Mason.

Someone, something, whatever had sent him here wanted him dead, wanted him gone. Rat knew the city of stolen lives was not a place people left. They either died here or lived a miserable existence of constant battle for survival.

People were getting up. The streets would be busy soon. Rat could not be caught out like this, dressed in a tattered dress, his rat nose and recognisable features. He was small-time, sure, but if anyone recognised him right now, he was doomed. Fucked. Utterly screwed.

They could take him. A modder. Whoever put him here sure as fuck didn’t know modding still worked, or at least he pushed a little on reality. Its give was slow, resistant, but there. He could try his best. It was all he had.

Rat was an admin, a modder, the brother to what most would consider a god. Rat was powerful, able, capable—really. Even if some of his server mates would argue with him on that.

Rat would not die here. He would not suffer. He would survive. He would fucking thrive if he had to.

This mystic place will not consume him.

o0O0o

Rat was swift and nimble. He ducked down side streets, he darted around corners and into the shadows. The city was waking up, but already fear-driven eyes were scanning every nook and cranny, ready to sink teeth or turn tail, and Rat didn’t want to be known yet.

He looked a state after all.

Rat wasn’t sure where he was heading. Not much was known about the city beyond the fact it was a dump for off-world and watchers alike, as well as the fact normal rules did not apply. It was hard-locked RL Craft. It was modded and yet not. It was bad, and Rat hated the way the air was heavy in his lungs as he moved around.

He walked deeper into the city and was quickly rewarded by more buildings. These ones more business than residence, and there were far less warehouses, but the people looked starved. Where once they looked beaten, these looked downtrodden.

Stalls and markets were avoided by expert manoeuvring, and eventually Rat gave up and ascended to the rooftops. New environment, new rules, same tactics. He pushed deeper into the city.

His efforts were rewarded as the houses thinned and became more run-down, the people less noticeable, and the trees. The city was known for having awful in-code food development, probably a purposeful block to stop people from growing strong. Better to starve the players than to let them be well-fed and ready to battle.

The trees therefore also suffered. The branches hung low, the leaves a drooping staple, and Rat frowned at the ground, which was more grey than brown.

He had nowhere to go and therefore could go anywhere. At first he pursued the idea and came upon a castle. He was inclined to investigate, but upon the sounds of explosions, stumbled back. Through a window he glimpsed a grinning void creature with dark skin and rainbow blur, followed by a far more serious avian hybrid.

Rat recognised the avian, not sure where he was from. He didn’t want to know any more about the explosion though, so he turned tail and bolted into the forest.

Luck had a tenuous relationship with Rat, as with most software developers. Often time it would fail him at critical moments—a misclick may take an entire world down, a poorly thought-out line could rip reality to shreds—but luck was often kind to the rat hybrid as well.

This moment was a good sign of this.

He walked deep into the forest, zigzagging and curious, looking for water, a brook, river, anything. What he found was fascinating. He came upon an old church, an old church of Prime, sat overgrown in the forest. Rat brushed the door off. It had not been opened in years. Fantastic. The perfect place for him to hide.

Rat pushed the door open and coughed as the dust flew out. The room was bright though, and looking up Rat could see a gaping hole in the ceiling. He glanced around, wondrous vines hung down from every surface, ivy and flowers crawled up the walls. It had been eaten by nature. The church, a place of holiness, dedicated itself to the land.

Rat breathed in the air and was captured by the soft earthy scent. He chittered low and soft in his chest before turning around and looking at the wall. There were old markings of a Church of Prime, long ago abandoned and turned over to time. It was a small spot of sunshine in this shit show of a server.

Easily he walked through the church along ivy branch floor and up to the wall. With curiosity he sat down, back to the wall, eyes on the door. It was nice, peaceful, at ease. He sighed heavily. He needed to look at the code of this place. He was a modder, an admin, and a player. He needed to know how he ended up in the City of Stolen Lives, and more importantly how he was going to get out.

Rat opened his code port with some caution. He wasn’t sure how this new server would make it react and was relieved to find he still accessed it. With a lot less caution than he should, he began to write. First he tried to see the admin list or any of the server owners, usually listed with IP or other information, but it was scrambled weirdly. He tried looking at it properly and with no warning the window shut itself down forcefully. Rat, not expecting this, was immediately blown backwards, and due to already being against the wall, simply bounced his head on cold stone.

"Rude," he said aloud after several seconds of silence. He looked at his comm with some apprehension. So the code here was a little... aggressive.

He sighed and picked up his comm. His head wasn’t ringing. It probably wasn’t a concussion, just some backdraft from the server, a little warning device. But he still had his code impacting abilities. He fiddled around some more. First, in his own file, he found himself, though his listing was odd. No one had specifically put him here from off-server. It was as if something without a game tag had moved him...

Rat pulled up his information and began to look at it critically. At the bottom he found he could possibly change his station here, get kicked and end up in the hub. But when he went to change it everything was locked. He growled in frustration.

Something not a player had put him here, and the server was fighting him, and the information eluded him. And Rat was trapped. For the first time he realised he may actually just be trapped here. Rat stared for several long seconds.

His heart was in his throat.

He needed a plan to survive till his sister or the admins in the hub or maybe Content SMP found him. Rat was trapped, but he hadn’t exhausted his avenues for survival. He just needed to work towards something.

He looked at the lush church around him. The soil outside seemed to bear dead trees and wilting flowers, not made to support life—an ecological dead zone. And Rat needed to be smart. He needed to fulfil his needs. He needed food.

He reopened his code window. He could affect reality with his powers, change states of being. He didn’t want to get caught, but he didn’t want to die either. So Rat did what he was best at—bending the rules. He needed fertile dirt, and he knew the coordinates of where he was, so he made the area a more nutrient-rich location. No problem.

His food problem mostly fixed for the time being, Rat needed to set up a real camp. He needed supplies, and he needed to either fix his dress or preferably get a new, better one.

He sighed but quickly righted himself. He was Rat, the Rat. He would become a god and take over the city. He would free this stupid server and whoever, whatever put him here would regret it.

o0O0o

Rat had been in the City of Stolen Lives for several weeks—or, well, he thought so. The first few days were mostly focused on survival. Rat found the city had a certain language, and that was violence. As it was, Rat was not a huge fan.

Sure, he liked a little throwdown, but he quickly realised there were some hardcore rules on living here. Respawn didn’t seem to happen as often as it should—or, well, it didn’t seem to happen ever.

He had therefore not interacted with most of the locals, or, well, none so far. That didn’t mean he didn’t steal. Nothing was free, and he learned quickly survival was hard if you didn’t at least put your life above people’s bottom lines.

Rat tried to stick to stealing from the better off. He tried not to fall into their game of good and bad and what not. He didn’t want to. He was good. He had even found a new dress, which was perfectly usable if a little less frilly than his last one. It paired well with a cloak he sewed from leftover scraps finely woven together.

Rat was not happy, but he was just about surviving.

He moved along the rooftops, learned the rickety edges were nowhere for sane people with life preservation skills to go. He, therefore—Rat—had a great time navigating them. No one ever thought to look up, so he wasn’t disturbing anyone. Or, well...

He looked down into an alleyway, ready to make the jump between rickety buildings held together by hope more than architecture, and was surprised when he saw a very rare player type down below—a Glitch, a race that was rumoured extinct but Rat knew were floating around undetected—was being cornered.

She was cornered, back against the wall, a dead end. Her glitching was flying off her body in all directions and Rat shuddered to think the levels of distress. It was as if she was falling apart. Two men were advancing on her, one wielding a baseball bat, the other with silver around his knuckles.

Rat was frozen. This was lifesteal. No one made it out alive. But she didn’t deserve this. Maybe she did. But Rat...

He couldn't let another of Talon's kind die.

Rat dropped down in a puff of fabric and violent intent. He landed on one assailant to gentle his fall and snapped his neck before he could say a word. Next, he lifted his fist in a clean jab, and while the second assailant was still turning in shock, he sent his fist through his face, breaking his nose and jamming it straight into his skull, killing him instantly.

Rat sighed a little at the minimal blood he had on his gloves. White was not a workable colour here. Maybe he should dye them. And then he looked up at the Glitch—the girl. She blinked for a few confused seconds.

"You shouldn't do that for someone you don't know," she said, a little shocked, and Rat frowned down at the bodies.

"Why?" he asked lazily. He dropped down to rifle through their pockets.

"People here get ten lives. You can have an upper limit of twenty. You just killed two people for me. They might never come back."

She sounded... sad? Stressed? Rat wasn't sure. He shrugged, not looking up.

"They were going to kill you. I see this as a fair trade."

"You still shouldn't do it for someone you don't know." She spoke with a certainty Rat knew was not her own, so he looked up.

She had wide orange glasses, a short brown bob and a warm brown jumper. She was small, malnourished probably, and her glitch was a strange unreal crack, as if her own colour was breaking the world’s pigment.

"Hello," he introduced himself. "I'm Rat, now we know each other."

He grinned, his blunt teeth unthreatening as they were. The glitch startled, but before she could answer Rat was already dashing off.

"I'm Squiddo!" she called in the distance, but Rat wasn’t 100% sure. She may have been saying "I'm Kiddo" or "antidisestablishmentarianism."

In any case, Rat was far away before he could really understand what was going on.

Rat, unsure why he saved the glitch—or well, cursing himself for being seen while doing so—was aimlessly wandering the city. He had found, in the few days he had been here so far, there was a wealth of knowledge just under the surface, a wealth he was struggling to access, skulking in the shadows and scuttling across rooftops.

There wasn’t much to learn from so far away. He needed to get closer to the city. He wanted a lay of the land, an understanding of the people, all in the pursuit of freedom, of his own ascension to elder of this shitty, deadly-ass server city.

He knew that gangs existed. He knew the whole place was cut up into districts. Rat knew that one district was just the abandoned castle, which few fought over. Another was mostly markets that overlapped with a small district run by a manic devil.

Rat thought there may be a district by the beach, where all the trash was shipped in on a semi-regular basis, but figuring out who ran it was like trying to catch smoke. Names and descriptions popped up—Yellow and Purple, Mane and Flame, a healer, a killer, and all manner of others—and he just didn’t know. Rat didn’t know, and it was annoying.

Of course, there was a final district, one of hedonism, where the richer seemed to congregate in this city of poverty. But all he knew about that was the streets were guarded by a rather zealous defence force, and he didn’t want a part in it.

But Rat was interested, and he needed answers. He was curious, and power-hungry, and a little mad from not talking to anyone in so long. He was a loner by choice, but he could admit he liked others’ company. He wasn’t an idiot.

Rat needed to learn more, but he wasn’t sure where to start. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe he should go back to the old church and get some more sleep. Maybe he should think on it longer.

Chapter 2

Rat was out once again. It was darker at night. He had been turning out later and later, trying to hear what was happening in the city, but mostly trying to avoid the glitch girl. She had been showing up more often and it could be a coincidence, but Rat hated calling anything a coincidence because what if this time...

In any case, Rat wouldn’t have been out this late most of his life. The city was dark and he wanted to go back to his bed and mess with the code, but no, he needed to know what was happening. His curiosity beat his apprehension.

He was slipping through an industrial building, one of the abandoned ones a few blocks out from the dock, when he heard a commotion. It was just across from him, probably unhearable if not for the echoing up and in, and in an instant his interest was caught. Most commotions were street brawls or the like, but not this time. An abandoned warehouse, hidden. His interest was caught.

Rat was blessed with a small jump and a safe set of barely rusted rafters to peer down from. In the warehouse there was a lot going on, like a lot a lot. First he saw the players—people, numbers in the mid-twenties—though they were moving around a lot, were engaged in a battle. Though it seemed the main conflict was at the centre.

A man. A man who was yellow. The yellow one, PrinceZam, was fighting. Of course it was PrinceZam, who else would it have been? Rat cursed himself quietly for not realising. He was flanked by a pangolin and a polar bear. Their stances were loose and tired, as if they had been fighting a while, but they were holding their own.

That was until Rat spotted the next adversary. A man flanked by two whirlwinds of fighters. One was wielding fists of fire, the other a lion with gnashing jaws. The man in the centre was Wemmbu, the purple one, the one Rat should also have realised was here, and a definite threat.

Rat was out of the loop when it came to servers, but he knew of Wemmbu and his sadistic, manic mentality. Someone must’ve gotten him sent here. Zam was through association. Rat was shocked he was stuck in the city as well. He had seemed like a nice guy, but maybe he was like Rat...

Rat watched on as the fight grew more desperate. The trio of Flame, Mane, and Wemmbu was encroaching on the fighting force of the Pangolin, Polar Bear, and PrinceZam.

Rat had to cover his mouth when, dramatically, Mane slashed a paw and in a quick movement dropped the Polar Bear. He was dead, assumably before he hit the floor.

The Pangolin yelled, an echo of grief, of fear.
"Woogie!" he yelled, his voice cracking. He went to do something Rat wasn’t sure what, but Zam grabbed him and pulled him back.

"Run," he ordered, voice fervent and strained. Rat watched as the entire group scattered into the wind. He was about to follow when a set of eyes locked with him. Zam was looking up. No one ever looked up.

He made eye contact with Rat and with almost wet eyes he looked around the room. Rat, unsure of what he was trying to say, followed his eyes and was shocked to see explosives carefully laid across the enclosed space. When he looked back to Zam though, he was gone.

Wemmbu and his two companions were gloating.

"Did you see his face, man?!" Flame asked, voice filled with a childlike, giddy joy. Wemmbu, however, dismissed them.

"Sure, but he got away!" His voice was harsh, filled with displeasure, and both of the fighters’ faces dropped as if his words were souring their moods.

Rat was just a little bit invested. He would later call it curiosity, just to see if they were real. It was all for furthering his game, all to win, after all.

Rat dropped down unnoticed, as quiet as his name and his species dictated. He slipped through shadows to the explosives and saw what must be a shit tonne of TNT all across the room. He grinned.

Rat was carrying a lighter and he was not afraid to use it. He lit the fuse to the closest bunch and bolted as quickly as he could, unheard, unseen, but not unknown anymore. As the room, as soon as he got maybe 20 metres from it, exploded—a reel of smoke, a hiss of joy. Rat felt three lives slot into his already weirdly misshapen life bar.

Rat was officially on the map. The two kills were nothing compared to this. He was truly a known entity, though only Zam knew his face. Rat smiled. Maybe he had a way of getting by. Maybe he had what he needed to truly live now.

o0O0o

Rat made his way back to the forest, the weight of lives heavy in his paws. It was strange. He had so many compared to most of the city folk and yet he felt powerless. He was aimless, set adrift, and it was... strange.

He went his way back to the church, his home away from home—or maybe not... his base camp in this hell hole. It wasn’t safe, and he knew it wasn’t safe.

Still, when he walked up and heard a shuffle of feet, he did not stutter in his stride. Either it was a rat or a fight, and he was ready for it.

He swung the door open into his tiny patch of paradise and was faced with a stranger's face. A woman stood around 5'7 with dirty blond hair. Her most striking feature was the bright purple hoodie, obviously patched from time spent in the damned city.

She looked at him, eyes narrowed, and Rat was not compelled to fight. She was unarmed, though that could change. She just looked... small. In the room covered in greenery, she was bright and tiny, a speck of dust on the shoe.

Rat wanted to check her code. She seemed healthy, but no one on Lifesteal really was. Whatever was wrong with her code, he couldn't see visually.

He couldn't check her code though because she began talking after several long seconds of silence.
"You have food?" It was a statement phrased as a question. Rat cocked his head, then remembered the healthy dirt he had planted seeds in across the room. He forgot most of, if not all, the dirt here was coarse or rooted and impossible to grow with. That he was the only member of the server who could grow their own food made her next question hit a little harshly. She sounded desperate, scared and hungry.
"How?"

Rat sighed and walked into the room, hitched up his skirt to step over roots that had grown thicker in his presence here. The stranger backed up a few paces as he approached, but Rat just brushed past her.

He went to the small spot he had his nest set up, a mix of dry leaves and moss raised off the ground for a semblance of dryness.

"I'm magic," he told her, his back to the stranger. But he could hear her scoff as he deposited a few of the things he had knocking around his pockets, mostly loose wire and a few good-looking hunks of metal, hopefully useful in some way.

"Really now?" the intruder prompted, her voice exasperated. And Rat shrugged. What was modding if not magic? Some players were literally unable to access the code. The few that were had to learn. By all means, it was a scientific type of magic—but still magic.

"Who are you?" Rat asked her, believing one question was worthy of a trade. And the strange girl perked up a little.

"Oh hi, I'm Mid, Midmysticx."

Rat inclined his head as she still was more focused on the nature around her than Rat himself. If she thought him too little of a threat, he wasn't sure how to take it—but he hoped that meant she thought he was safe. Rat liked being safe to others.

"Hello Mid," he said politely. "I'm Rat," he said it with as little emphasis as he could and thankfully she didn't recognise his shortened tag. doctor4t was a powerful player but Rat was just... Rat.

They stood in silence for a bit, Mid taking in the view and Rat—well, he was waiting on her really. Eventually she would break or something interesting would happen, and he didn't really have to wait long as Mid seemingly gathered her thoughts and, with an efficient flip of her dirty blond hair, faced Rat down with an almost hungry expression.

"What do I need to do to get in on the food?"

Her question, so direct and uncomplicated, threw Rat off for several seconds and he blinked at her before shrugging helplessly.
"I usually have my minions swear undying loyalty." He said it as casually as he could, a joke, a little jab because really that was crazy. She should leave, let Rat get back to living—or fight him and let Rat kill her. But no.

The stranger, the intruder Midmysticx, just blinked at him with big green eyes.
"Is that it?" she asked, casually as he had, with little inflection. Upon Rat's confused nod, she dropped to a knee and looked up at him, her face strangely void of any humour.

"I, Midmysticx, swear my services under your leadership to achieve all your goals as you see fit until a time where our values no longer align." Her little pledge shocked Rat, who was used to stubborn assholes who wouldn't follow anyone's lead. Now he was out of his depth.

"Oh," he paused and she smiled at him a little like she was making fun of him. Rat sighed.
"Okay cool, I have a minion." He looked around, unsure what else he needed to do.
"Set up your sleeping spot wherever?" He shrugged a little helplessly.

Mid stood and walked around, looking at the roots thick with nutrients, and smiled at him whenever their eyes met. Rat, not wanting to stare, began to cook. He was cooking for two now, and wasn't that strange? The first person he really talked to and he already had a minion.

Today had been a weird one overall, Rat decided. He made roasted potatoes and went to bed, still lost in thought.

o0O0o

Mid was being serious, or as close as Rat could ascertain. She was sure there the next day when he woke up, laid in a bed of moss tucked up away from any possible pools of water. She looked peaceful sleeping, her hair splayed out around her like a halo. Not for the first time Rat wondered what had brought her here. Who had she hurt, pissed off, inconvenienced enough to be sent to a deathworld.

Rat didn’t really know what else to do so he set about making food for the both of them. He moved with reasonable grace and was able to stay quiet and let his new follower? Roommate? Whatever—sleep.

It was only when he had finished cooking Mid decided to wake up. She rose like the dead and looked down at him from her perch.

"Morning," she intoned and Rat waved awkwardly. He pushed the plate of food he had made up her way and the squeal she unleashed was actually really funny as she more fell than climbed down to retrieve it.

The food was simple: a bit of flatbread made from slightly out-of-date flour Rat had found, cooked fish which was a skill he had rather happily reused, and sat down to chow. They were relatively peaceful for a while. Ten minutes drifted by and they didn’t bother each other, but Rat wanted a lot of things—mostly information—and Mid was a sitting well of knowledge. Hopefully she knew more than him in any case.

"Who is the purple guy down by the docks?" Rat asked and she looked at him, head tilted.

"Need you to be a little more specific," she told him and yeah that made sense. Rat shrugged.

"He had a lion hybrid and someone I think is a demon with him. I blew them up yesterday." At that, her eyes blew wide. She looked Rat over again and slowly nodded.

"Yeah, okay, you’re Rat?" Rat nodded. He had told her yesterday after all. But Mid nodded slowly.

"So the guy you killed..." she bit her lip and Rat twitched a brow. By the way this was going he didn’t like it. "Yeah so that’s Wemmbu," Rat recognised the name.
"He’s like a big deal," she continued and Rat nodded sagely. Wemmbu had been a big deal before he was banished. He had been a matter of much debate.

Wemmbu the server-raiser. A man who was best known for making the servers he was on famous for often the worst reasons. He had a skill with people, not a sword or a build. He was a puppet master.

"So what happened?" she asked after the silence had stretched too long and Rat started. He looked up at the woman, head tilted.

"Well they were talking to this yellow guy," he began and Mid interrupted.

"Probably Zam." Rat, not recognising the name, nodded.

"Then it all seemed to go south and he was trying to kill the guy and his crew."

Mid nodded along. "He was probably trying to make a takeover." Rat frowned so she elaborated. "Has been trying to take over the docks for a while. There are just so many stakes on the territory," she frowned. "Lucrative land, and it's where all the good fighting rings are. That’s why Wemmbu, Flame and Mane work together."

Rat nodded. She was a variable fountain of information and this was deeply appreciated as Rat sat back and stared at the ground for a few long moments.

"You stopped them..." she added again, obviously uncomfortable with silence. Rat nodded. With him she may just have to get used to it.
"You stopped him by yourself?" she asked and Rat shrugged.

"The yellow guy, Zam, he rigged explosives." Mid nodded.

"Always ready with an escape route. Well, he's the most paranoid next to Rekrap." Rat didn’t recognise the name so he moved along.
"You're crazy, you know?" she said matter-of-factly and Rat shrugged.

"Yeah, I've been told."

Mid shook her head. "Crazy," she repeated and Rat smiled a little.

"That’s a pretty normal first reaction people have to me, you know?"

This was going to be a fun partnership.

o0O0o

Rat decided he needed more materials. It had nothing to do with the growing tension in the streets as Wemmbu, or whoever he had pissed off in the shadows, searched for him. No, Rat just wanted, needed, a better weapon. All he had were knives, which while good wouldn’t do him any good against a skilled opponent.

Rat was not above cheating. Contrarily, he was in fact very amicable towards cheating. He was pro cheating all things considered.

Rat was off roof-hopping before he told Mid where he was off to. The strange woman didn’t seem to mind though. She was gardening and was very content with letting Rat do as he pleased.

Rat travelled towards the docks, probably the best place to find old rusted weapons, axes and swords. Though no magic or commands should work here, there was still a pulse of power in items given weight by their owners. That and the trash boats that were occasionally shipped in by other servers, city servers trying to get rid of their shit.

Rat was just inspecting the shoreline from the rooftops, guessing where the best spots were to avoid being spotted, when he heard the scrape of claws on stone. He spun around to see the silhouette of a shorter man with hybrid features and a pair of sunglasses.

Rat watched as one of the yellow guy's followers approached him on the roof with a rather awkward smile.

"Uh hi there," he greeted, and Rat, lost as to what he wanted, waved a brief hello. The stranger wobbled side to side and Rat recalled idly he was alone on the roof, the normal exit blocked by this stranger, and he was only armed with a knife. This could get interesting.

"Yeah uh. I'm Pangi..." he introduced himself awkwardly, and Rat pursed his lips. On second thought, there was not going to be any interesting business. This guy would never.

"Rat." he introduced himself, and Pangi smiled a little.

"Uh yeah, first I um..." he seemed a little lost, but Rat gave him time, and eventually Pangi managed to put his words in an order he seemed satisfied with. "I wanted to thank you for killing everyone," he looked at the ground awkwardly, "it was uh yeah..."

He trailed off and Rat waited again. He obviously wasn’t finished, and Rat didn’t particularly want to go to the beach. This was far more entertaining.
"Yeah I wanted to apologise before I..." he struggled for words, "yeah I'm sorry," he repeated.

Then Pangi pulled a knife on Rat. It was a simple stainless steel blade, all one piece of metal, a zombie knife, and Rat frowned at it idly. Who gave this sweet man a knife? He was obviously bad with it, seeing as he held it at such an awkward angle.

Rat could probably run, jump off the roof, use the ledge, run along and get away, but he was... curious, for lack of a better term.

"I'm going to have to ask you to come with me," Pangi said. His voice was in no way threatening. It was as if he didn’t even take himself seriously, which if true was funny. Rat eyed him for a few seconds longer.

"Okay sure," he said, and it was like Pangi deflated. He lowered his guard way too fast but Rat found it endearing.

"Really? I thought that would be way harder," he sounded tired and Rat smiled at him. After all, this was far more interesting than weapon acquisition. Pangi, someone Rat had put into the box of sweetest person here in his mind, had threatened him (badly) with a knife, immediately stopped, and was now giving Rat his back as he led him away.

Rat followed happily.

Notes:

Mid my beloved <3 i know like none of these creaters have intereacted buttt :D it's my silly fanfiction!

Chapter 3

Rat was rather amused by the walk he took to the warehouse, accompanied by Pangi — or, well, Pangi was trying to march him there, but between stumbling on his own feet and just generally being a little too nice, he was more or less led on an amicable stroll.

They stopped at a nondescript warehouse nestled between exact replicas somewhere near the heart of the district. Rat was led through a door that was set a little high in a step and found himself in a room that was obviously a cutting of the main space. The walls were installed plywood and the entire place seemed to depend on repurposed space.

They walked down a corridor, up a strange incline and into a cramped office near the back — corrugated walls on two sides and wood on the other two. The space was too small for the amount of people and the furniture. There was the yellow guy and the polar bear from the warehouse, the bear lounging on a sofa, the yellow guy behind the desk, as well as a man in soft blue who was sat precariously on a file cabinet.

They all turned to stare as Rat and Pangi entered.

Rat waved awkwardly as Pangi shut the door and smiled as the strange hybrid sat down on the sofa with the bear. The yellow guy smiled.

"Hi, I'm PrinceZam, Zam to friends." Rat nodded. "I am the leader of the Peace Keepers." Rat snorted and Zam paused in his explanation, compelled to explain. Rat elaborated:

"That's one hell of a supervillain name."

This seemed to be the right and wrong thing to say, as both the polar bear and the soft blue guy spoke up — both said at the same time, "That's what we said," then glanced at one another and laughed. The blue guy almost toppled off the cabinet he was sat on.

Zam looked disgruntled. "Peace is literally in the name." He waved his arms around for emphasis. The blue guy laughed some more, holding himself steady by gripping the cabinets around him.

Through little hiccups he introduced himself. "Yeah, well hello, I'm Poafa." He seemed a little out of it, so Rat turned back to, assumably, the main person here, who was sat with arms folded patiently.

Pangi was also laughing but far more subtly.

"Yeah, I had Pangi bring you here today," Zam continued, straightening and smiling wide and businesslike. Rat wasn't sure he trusted it. "I wanted to offer allyship."

Rat frowned, considering. "Yeah, uh, I'm really doing my own thing right now," he said with a shrug, and Zam's face didn't sour but more so grew confused.

"How?" It wasn't a malicious question but Rat wasn't sure what to answer. By doing stuff? Did people not do stuff here?

Rat shrugged, and then Zam asked a new question. "Why not? You literally saved us from all being killed off."

Rat smiled. He could answer that at least. "Seemed like the best thing to do." Zam frowned but eventually just shrugged.

"Can I ask, if not for your allyship, for your agreement?" Rat cocked his head. "Can you not kill me at spawn?"

Rat frowned and shrugged. "Okay sure, I’ll try."

Rat was leaving out the back after giving Pangi the slip to make his own way, but as he ducked out a side window he was suddenly and rather rudely knocked unconscious by a heavy weight.

o0O0o

Rat woke up tied to a chair. A fucking chair. How cliché does this bitch have to be? He didn't even know who kidnapped him, but whoever they were, they were sloppy as shit. Rat sighed and seemed to alert the person who had taken him, as a hulking figure came into his aspect of vision.

"Hello, Rat." The lion Manepare, a hulking mass of a hybrid, towered over him. Rat smiled at him nonetheless, a sly little thing he knew put others at ease.

"Hello, nice to finally meet you." Rat nodded awkwardly. Mane ignored him. Instead, another person joined him — the smaller figure of a man with molten skin, cracked from overuse of power. FlameFrags.

Well shit, guess Rat dies now.

Or, well—"Hello, Rat," Flame greeted as well. Rat's smile, still strained, grew.

"Yes, hi, what do you want?" Rat wanted this conversation over. Yesterday. What the hell was he supposed to do with this? What the hell was he supposed to do full stop? The two most dangerous fighting forces in the city were staring down at him as he was tied to a chair, stuck, weak and defenceless.

"We are not currently operating under Wemmbu's direction," Mane said before Flame pushed him. Rat watched with rapt attention. So this was a behind closed doors conversation. Did they know who Rat was?

"We know you work with Zam," Flame said, his eyes bright, staring Rat down. "We don't know who you are though."

Well shit, they didn’t know Rat was... the guy who blew them up. Fuck.

"Wouldn't say work with, but sure," Rat deflected and was dismissed by a blasé hand wave.

"You are an unknown and affiliated. We want your... opinion," Mane said after a beat. Flame still glared at him, but Rat noticed there was no real heat behind it. Mane smiled, his teeth on display, and Rat realised he needed to ignore them and focus on the question real quick.

"Okay sure, opinion, but on what?" he prompted, and at that, Flame and Mane perked up.

"We want to control the fighting district," Mane said.

"Without having to follow Wemmbu's lead," Flame added, and Rat frowned.

"Wemmbu leads?" he asked, and both of them went quiet.

"He tries to control us," Flame began, "make us do as he says and it's just..."

"Annoying," Mane supplied.

"You are stronger," Rat said slowly. "Why not just kill him?" he asked, and Flame looked shocked while Mane contemplated.

"We've always protected him," Flame said eventually. "We chose him, we work with him, we just don't want to work for him."

Rat shrugged. "You can do your own thing."

The look they gave him was strange, lost, a little scared, and Rat wasn’t sure how to take it. But then, as if summoned to save Rat's ass, someone came crashing through the window, above and behind Rat. A shattering of glass and then a streak of red lands heavily on Flame.

A demon with wild black hair and wild animalistic eyes throws himself at Flame with the ferocity of a pit bull. Rat then watches as more flood the room. People descend on Flame and Mane, who had collected themselves and were fighting back with just as much ferocity.

It was the perfect time to escape, so with a little bit of shimmying he managed to break the binds holding him.

Rat then managed to go under the radar of the battle raging around him, slipped into the shadows and away.

o0O0o

Rat made his way back to his church, tired, a little bloody and hungry.

He made his way over the old dead roots, through the strange half-petrified trees deep into the sun-blind forest. He eventually made it to his little spot hidden from the world, but upon getting to the door he was bombarded with voices,

One he recognised, knew as she was Mid, was at least supposed to be there. The other one, though, was a stranger. Rat pulled the door open, silent as his namesake, and observed the room.

Mid was in the centre facing Rat. A stranger stood across from her in a blue hoodie. He had a pair of ears poking out the top, drooped low over the back of his head. He was fighting with Mid, a verbal debacle, which was strange for a place like LifeSteal.

"He won’t even notice!"

"You're stealing from my boss, I'm not letting you get away, Derapchu."

Mid sounded exhausted, which was reasonable. It seemed he had been stealing from Rat.

"Anyway, he was last at Zam's. That guy can talk for hours, it's fine, he won’t notice," he continued confidently. Rat sighed internally. If this guy saw him, who else did? "I bet you anything he's allied with Zam. Won’t need this place anyway."

Mid cocked her head. She still hadn't noticed Rat, which was either really good stealth or shit observational skills. Rat was leaning towards observation, though, which was really bad on Mid.

"I don’t think Rat will ally with anyone, Derap, and I think you should leave before he kills you." In that moment she flashed a smile at Rat. Okay, not shit observational skills—good acting though. Rat took that as his cue to walk up.

"Get out of my church," Rat said, and Derapchu flung around fast as anything to give him one of the biggest smiles Rat had ever seen.

"I claim asylum! No wait, is that a church?" he fired back, smile immaculate as Rat felt a headache developing.

"Leave before I make you," Rat threatened, and Mid's eyes went wide. She shook her head and Rat saw, but didn’t want to give in to her whims. What the fuck was going on was now his business, and he dealt with his business how he liked.

"Make me?" Derapchu shot back, his smile wider and his eyes mischievous. He swung his hips. "Don’t mind if I—"

Rat had enough already and this guy was obviously not worth keeping alive. Rat had him pinned against a wall by his throat in seconds. Mid gasped but Rat was staring into the stranger's soul and could see fear, a primal animatic thing that was quickly smoothed over by a wicked smile.

Rat hated that smile. He could feel the mischief at his expense, and he was quickly proved correct.

Derapchu moaned loud and long with his head thrown back. Rat instinctively launched off his body, ceasing all contact, and looked at the stranger like he was deranged. "What the fuck?" he asked, and Derapchu shrugged.

All the tension was gone though. Mid doubled over laughing.

Rat stared at the two, lost for words.

"Okay, fine, whatever," Rat rattled off, confused but ultimately not inclined to indulge the insanity. "Mid, I need a debrief," he said, and her eyes lit up.

"Good gossip! We’re all fucked." She sounded so happy when spelling out their doom.

o0O0o

So he had a new roommate, though Rat kept trying to chase him out. He never had the heart to kill Derapchu and really he was kind of useful if you looked past the everything about him.

Mid seemed content with him despite the fact he was, well... himself.

Life settled back into this new normal. Rat got up, worked on mods and magic, tried not to get killed by the local population, stalked the entire city, and in between talked to his two main followers.

It was on a random afternoon trouble struck again. Rat was looking for some components to use in his modding, hopefully some gunpowder would do the trick and let him morph a more powerful crossbow, but he was coming up short.

Rat supposed deadly weapons would be hoarded and what was more dangerous than wanton explosions.

In any case he found himself in a painfully familiar place, over possibly the same alleyway he took his first life. A strange glitch so much like Talon was cornered, but she was not alone. With her, shoulder to shoulder, was a slime hybrid, blue dripping skin moving in a rapid anxious flow.

Rat knew they would not win the fight. They were outnumbered two to one. Rat was too late to stop the violence as he descended. The leader of the ragged gang teaming up on the two not-quite-strangers lashed out. He dragged his knife through skin and Rat was reminded of Eight in that moment—of solid flesh under dripping slime, of pained cries—and he was angry now.

Rat was not the best fighter by any stretch of the word, but he was sneaky, he was trained, he was well fed and he had the element of surprise. He beheaded the guy at the back, taking them out, the next guy with the carry-through of the action.

But the leader went for the blue slime again, slashing across his face and making him whimper some. He was looking rather unwell in that moment, dizzy and dangerous, and Rat forwent the third guy to cleave the clear threat in two, the dull thunk.

Rat was never particularly invested in axes. He was still waiting to build himself a good trident or possibly a scythe, but for quick deaths they were perfect.

The last guy was taken out by the glitch, who demonstrated some of her rather shocking prowess by literally dissolving his head with some shod code. Rat looked at her hands apprehensively but was distracted by a low whine.

He looked at the slime and saw he was not going to make it immediately, not with the meagre resources offered by the city, and if you lose a life from injury after the fact no one gets the heart, no one gets the life. Rat had a feeling from the way the fight had gone he did not have many lives to spare.

Rat knew he could save him though.

Without a word he picked up the slime. The coolness of his skin, weirdly unsticky as always, was unnoticed as he scaled the building. Rat had a short time, but he believed in himself.

He almost forgot about the glitch he was leaving behind, but as he leapt from one roof to the next he heard her cry out in the streets beneath him.

"Please!" her voice echoed, a strange warble to it telling him of her distress. "Please, he only has three lives, please—" Rat was gone before he could listen to the rest of it.

o0O0o

Rat had not originally thought out exactly what he was going to do with the slime, but upon dumping him in the church and beginning the healing process he had left that job up to Mid and in part Derapchu, but he didn’t think he was going to be of much help.

Mid had flitted around getting what herbs and magics Rat called for and for as long as he worked she talked a long personal dialogue weighing the pros and cons of specific plans.

In the end Rat had come over with a scrap of fabric and tied it on his face. Rat had let them bicker between one another on whether that was confrontational or overkill, he was still keeping the stranger alive after all.

"It's excessive," Mid told Rat when he was pretty sure the slime wouldn’t bleed out. He cocked his head, face not passing any expressions.

"Kinky," Derapchu commented, and Rat grabbed the nearest broom and began to chase him with it.

The shrieks of overdramatic laughter do not rouse the sleeping slime, as does the normal goings on around the church. In fact, he doesn’t rouse until the next morning when Rat was growing concerned about his hydration.

He woke with a start, full body jolt that made Mid yelp a little, but between the wounded sound and Derapchu's anxious chattering Rat pushed past his companions to stand beside the slime.

They made quick work of the blindfold, ripping it off their face with a desperate start, looking around as if searching for a threat.

He looked at Rat and shrank. Rat realised he may look a little intimidating—a rather plain dress with two axes hung off a belt, pockets haphazardly sewn into every part of his figure and a strange aura as the code literally bent around him. Most players, if they didn’t understand what he was, were off-put upon meeting him.

"You're..." the slime said, looking at Rat as if he ripped the sun out the sky. Rat waved, trying to lessen his intense first impression and wincing when the slime flinched. "You're the one who helped Squiddo," he said, and Rat supposed that must be the Glitch, or well, he hadn’t helped much of anyone apart from Zam and the two people in his church already.

"Probably," he answered with a shrug. The slime stared at him for a few long moments.

"Thank you," he said, and Rat was a little shocked he was being thanked. He had been expecting an interrogation or outright violence. He was ready to non-violently knock the poor sod out, maybe swaddle him so he couldn’t get up, but—

"Can I go back to my base?" he asked.

Rat winced a little. Honest open communication was not his specialty...

Thing was, nothing was done for free. Everything came with a price, and despite knowing this Rat hadn’t really ironed out what he should ask for. He stared at the slime. Would they even be able to get back to their base? And where was...

They came from the business district, or well, as close to a business district a place like Lifesteal could have. He must work for someone, he seemed well fed if a little battered. Rat knew most people had alliances or otherwise within their home district, and maybe Rat could ask after that.

"Alright," he said, and the slime's eyes narrowed. He knew what was about to happen. "I'm Rat, can I get your name?" It was good to cover rapport.

"I'm 4CVIT, everyone calls me 4C," he introduced, stilted as he eyed Rat cautiously. Rat nodded.

"Nice to meet you, 4C," Rat said, nodding. "I'd like to make a deal."

Rat would like a lot of things—good code, freedom, people to stop interrupting his sleep, Derapchu to stop talking sometimes—but currently what he wanted was the city of Stolen Lives to be stable, or well, as stable as a place like this could be. The way you do that was control. Rat wasn’t sure who else was reaching for this.

"May I accompany you back to your base?" he asked, and 4C tilted his head. "I would like to meet your manager." He tried to fix his confusion, but by the way 4C's eyes went wide, it was as reassuring as he thought.

But Rat could save the day with capitalism, and maybe socialism for himself. Who knew!

The mild surprise on 4C's face was interesting as the slime hybrid quickly nodded.

"We’ve been trying to find you, of course," he said, as if Rat should know. Rat cocked his head in pure confusion. "He wants to thank you."

Huh. Well shit.

Notes:

I haven’t written in a while, I have finished this story and am just editing but I had an exam yesterday and I have one Monday and it's just... big stress lmao.

I got super drunk last night, will probably get super drunk Monday night too after the exam <3 I'm so stressed and chill this is so weird.

Chapter 4

Rat was very confused, 4C was very earnest, looking at him like Rat should understand, and as Rat so often did, he looked to Mid when things in the city didn’t seem to make sense. The girl smiled at him encouragingly.

"He's new here," she told 4C, who frowned as if he didn’t understand any more than Rat did. Then she turned to Rat.

"The Boss's name's Red, Reddoons," 4C made a face of surprise, but Mid was talking before Rat could figure him out. "Ash and Squiddo came here together, they're inseparable." Rat frowned, not seeing the connection. "Red and Ash are dating," she said, and Rat started a little.

Huh, okay, fine.

Rat didn’t think anyone would want to date here, not when everyone was put here to die and getting stabbed in the back was to be expected.

But Rat looked at 4C, the soft face, the open expression. Maybe some people were not built for the city's harshness, maybe some people were trying to live here.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall told Rat Derapchu was back. Rat wasn’t sure when he left, but he should have known because that had been far too easy.

His voice was what proved it was him though. "Oh my god, he's awake!" Derapchu came bounding up, leaving a pile of sticks by the door—God knows why he was collecting them. "Oh my god, he's hot!" he said with a sly smile that failed and made him look like an idiot.

Rat, seeing no reasonable response, reached for his broom and began to wave it around wildly.

"No, no, wait, I'll be good!" Derapchu yelled out, and Mid laughed at the entire shitshow.

Rat got 4C cleaned up, gave him water and a little food. He stared in wonder at the vegetables. Rat remembered they were impossible to grow and was glad he glossed over that point. Finally, they went to leave, but Rat once again wrapped his eyes in a blindfold.

4C had been flighty but had consented. Rat had to send Mid off to scout ahead, but it was meant to be an easy walk. They headed past the old castle, and though Rat could feel eyes on him, it was either the bird or the goat, which in either case, Parrot and Subz meant no harm to him if he stayed out of their way.

Once in the city proper, Rat was quick to take 4C's blindfold off. He caught the eye of Mid, who slipped quickly and effectively into the crowd to run her own business during the day.

Rat smiled at the relative stranger and gestured him to lead the way. 4C smiled back, his shoulders a little more tense but willing and cooperative.

Rat led him up to the rooftops and across the residential areas. They were going to the business district, so no particular path was needed. Rat did not take his comfortable path, nor did he take a secret one. He didn’t want to give away any information that may be used against him.

Progress was slow; 4C was good but slow, and Rat didn’t want to usher him. It was midday, but still no one looked up when pickpockets roamed the streets.

He managed to dodge downtown entirely. Rat wasn’t sure what was going on with the turf war, but he didn’t want a part in it. The streets, though, were ever bustling with a manic energy, men gone mad within the city after all.

Once in the 'business' area of the city, Rat turned to 4C. "You lead?" he asked, and the slime snapped to attention. It was a little graceless, his descent from the building, but Rat was willing to look past that. He didn’t seem like the type to be much of a head-on fighter.

4C led Rat through the crowd, even as whispers followed them. The masses did not part in fear, but still, Rat felt every eye fall upon him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about his impression on the city—a killer, ruthless and cold—but 4C gave him no chance to slow his pace and listen closer.

They went down one route, then another, then doubled back. Rat was a little confused when 4C led him, while the street was unoccupied, into a completely nondescript building. It was grey and soulless and not what he thought would be a big businessman’s main address. But as he walked through, 4C was quickly tackled.

A bundle of limbs and shrieks as they tumbled across the floor. A glitching effect told him who it most probably was, but before Rat could go further, a knife was neatly pressed between his shoulder blades. He could outmanoeuvre the wielder, but one of them would get hurt in the tussle, and Rat didn’t want to leave his odds to fate.

Rat let it happen and, slowly, while choreographing his movements, glanced at the two figures flanking him.

Did the business district just hire a lot of weird entities? A red... thing was at his side. They lacked a mouth and had a body of weird slime-like material. It blinked at Rat and then his smile split with another smile.

Rat couldn’t tell if he hated or loved that smile.

Rat looked to his other side. A creature with a weird cube head and no expression stood there. They were the one wielding the knife. They reminded Rat so much of Eight it almost hurt. No slime in his blood, but still a distinct otherworldly feel. Out of everyone Rat had met so far, he may be the best candidate to become a modder, not that Rat expected anyone to follow the path.

Rat was led to Red's office, down a normal corridor with dirty white walls. It felt almost clinical. Rat didn’t fight as the knife bobbed along; the wielder may be skilled, but he was not the most skilled, and Rat could tell by his steady hands but unstable grip that he was made for fighting.

They reached a door in a nondescript turn off one of the random corridors, and both of his guards stopped. Rat followed. The red one knocked, and the door swung open almost immediately. A man with dark skin and glitches pouring out of his eye smiled at Rat.

Fuck, he was hot.

Rat smiled awkwardly, and he danced back. Now the room was easier to see, and Rat catalogued everything: a bookshelf, a big desk that was a different colour to the rest of the furniture, a dirty glass window, and a rather clean carpet.

The man behind the desk was red, like the same as the half-slime who had brought him, but somehow he was just... red.

Rat nodded to him, and he cocked his head.

"Rat, or well, Doctor4t," he said with a cordial smile. Rat pursed his lips. He killed a few guys—they probably knew who he was. "I don’t recognise your name." Or not... maybe he wasn’t that important outside of the modding community.

"Ah, that’s okay," Rat deflected. "I delivered cargo unharmed, just wanted to give a gesture of goodwill." Because that sounded big and important, right? Rat shimmied a little, moving around without being noticed. Ash, or at least he assumed they were Ash, seeing as they were literally glitching, watched him curiously.

"Okay..." Red said, watching him. "And what do you want in exchange?" He was being careful, he was being forceful. Rat wasn’t sure what to ask for or what his reaction would be.

Rat smirked. "Remember me," he told the gang leader, and his face grew more tense.

"We don’t like debts," Red told him, and Rat shifted away from the two people flanking him. They let him engross himself with the conversation. No one seemed to notice as Rat moved around the room like a dancer.

"Then consider it a kindness," Rat told him.

The faces in the room grew dark with worry. Red stared him down, tilted his head back. "We do not do kindness here."

Rat broke out in a grin, and he felt the gazes of everyone become more interested. Ash, who had stayed quiet, began to glitch excitedly.

"Well then..." Rat began and leant against the frame of the window, the cold glass pressed against his back. "My name is Rat." He waved. "I do things my own way."

Rat smashed the window with his axe head in a clean movement. He threw himself bodily out and caught his weight on the sill. He swung down, then onto the next rooftop and dashed across the unstable roofs. Behind him, he could hear cries as people below saw him dash away, and assumably Red’s men stared out the window.

Sorry, Squiddo and 4C. He wasn’t ready to be allies; he needed just a little more time.

o0O0o

It’s trash day, something Rat missed the first few weeks. See, he didn’t know that most people logged in on a trash day when the harbour would receive life-saving materials in the form of other servers' cast-offs.

Rat wanted in, though. Be damned with his axes; he wanted a more interesting weapon, and a heaping pile of trash... was just a heaping pile of trash, but he could mod something to his liking.

Rat dived into the trash with vigour, picking through the heaps with talents only accredited to his namesake but forged in the rubble of explosions gone wrong and test runs gone completely right.

Rat was elbow-deep in a pile of grass and other plant offsets he could maybe use for mulch later on, but then his hand hit a wooden handle.

Rat pulled out a scythe, solid handle broken in the middle, a curved blade that was tarnished to hell.

Rat yanked it out and bolted. Greedy eyes may follow him, but no one was as good as him at moving across the rooftops. He was going to have a weapon, a real one, a scythe that could take anyone out, that would inflict pain on everyone who dared get in his way.

Rat rushed off. He had the ingredients, he had the supplies, and now he had the weapon. He was so ready to make a scythe that could do the impossible.

Rat was travelling a barely familiar path, never wanting to get too predictable when he came upon a battle, or so he had to assume. A demon, red hoody whirling like a cape, was engaged in battle with the lion, the flame demon, and Wemmbu.

Rat watched with curiosity as the battle unfolded. Brutal hits were exchanged. No one seemed to be winning. When they could, people would retreat and flee, and it was an undulating bloody mess. Rat watched from far above.

With keen eyes, he spotted a flash of yellow and suddenly he was open to another layer of the battle. Zam was moving around beneath the surface. Zam’s crew was fighting another under it all, a silent battle of tripped demons and unstable flooring sewn by the people who could not fight alone.

Rat was invested, curious, impressed. He would never have guessed. Right then, he watched Pangi the Pangolin get stabbed.

Rat, after witnessing whatever that was, decided actually he had places to be and better things to be doing. He headed back to his church base and immediately entered to work on modding the scythe.

This took several hours of trial and error and fighting the walls, the floor, and a stick he had propped up in the ground. Mid and Derapchu wandered in and out as they pleased, outdoor cats till the day they inevitably died.

Rat worked later than normal, single-minded, till Mid broke his reverie.

"What are you doing?" Mid asked from her perch. She had picked to sleep in ages ago. The branch of a tree root was able to cradle her, and she could watch like a lazy cat. She watched Rat now.

Rat looked over to her and shrugged. "Magic. Duh," he said sarcastically before returning to his work. Derapchu gasped a little melodramatically, but it was okay.

Rat was busy, and as time slipped away from him, he barely noticed the days go by. The night slipped into sunrise, and Mid forced food upon him. Rat’s mind, preoccupied with work, tried to brush her off, but Mid was persistent, and Rat was easily swayed. He jumped back to work immediately.

However, in that moment of reprieve, Rat remembered the issue of the fight, and he glanced to Mid.

"Hey, could you go check out Prince Zam's crew?" he requested, and by the look of confusion on her face, Mid had not expected the request. "Check on the Pangolin if you could?"

Rat knew what he was and who he worked for. He made it his business to know these kinds of things now. Mid nodded because she was the best, and Rat sat back and smiled.

He was once again busy at work when she returned. He was so ecstatic he almost forgot what he had asked her to do, eager instead to show her his latest efforts. "Hey, see, it can make a bleeding effect," Rat excitedly rambled, standing up to show her, but Mid's expression was dour.

"Pangi's sick," she said, her voice low. "No one can help him." Rat blinked. Pangi was sweet, kind, a little on the outside, always drifting, but he was loyal to Zam and he was good. Rat felt most of the peacekeepers were good, at least.

Lives were both plentiful and sparse in the city. You got ten if you lost one in battle; it would enter the heart market. But if it was lost to sickness, either one of the peacekeepers would need to put him out, unable to give it back unless he got better, or he would die of illness and then poof, no heart.

Rat looked at Mid and he knew the peacekeepers didn't have many hearts to begin with. They were not going to kill one of their own, even to preserve a heart, because it would make him weaker and fighting the illness would take longer. Illness carried over.

But Rat was being too kind. Who would notice? What would they think?

It seemed Mid had noticed his dilemma.

"You know you can make a deal, right?" she looked at him the way she sometimes did, with a deep-seated concern. "You don't need to show your throat when you help others."

Rat stared at her, not sure what she was looking at, but he still felt... something, seen maybe...

Whatever.

Rat needed info anyway.

Rat headed out to find a member of the peacekeepers. Going from memory, Rat had a few familiar faces to look out for. He scurried across rooftops, headed down, eyes open to see what was happening in the streets below, and he was rewarded.

Woogie, the polar bear, one of the better-known members, was stood in the mouth of an alleyway. His eyes were haunted, his posture slumped, but he was secluded enough that Rat felt confident in approaching.

He dropped down behind the polar bear, just loud enough that the other turned around. He suppressed a flinch upon seeing Rat, though.

"I have a deal," Rat said, and Woogie's eyes blew wide.

"Rat," he said the name like a prayer, like an alien concept. Rat nodded in greeting.

"Hello, Woogie," he had forgotten his manners. "I have a deal for you."

Woogie stood up tall, his head tilted to one side, indicating he was listening.

"What would you be dealing with?" he asked, and Rat smiled.

"I can make Pangi better," he watched the polar bear once again repress a flinch, so he pressed a little more on the open wound. "Really better." He didn't know if he could, but if Rat couldn't, no one could.

Woogie frowned at him. "For what?" He was testing Rat; the idea of a deal was scary coming from an unknown entity.

Rat leant back, his head high, his expression impassive.

"I just need information." Woogie looked interested. "About Wemmbu and his movements." Woogie looked invested, and Rat smiled.

"I can't guarantee," Woogie said, and it was music to Rat's ears. He grinned wickedly with all his teeth. "I'll take you to Zam," Woogie conceded, and Rat nodded.

Rat insisted upon taking the rooftops and was impressed by how quickly the bear man adapted to the rickety frameworks. He followed a respectable distance, though he knew the way. Letting Woogie lead was only polite.

They did not use a front door; they used a window, and Rat was surprised as it was directly into Pangi's hospital room. Laid out on the bed was the pangolin himself, all glassy-eyed and too warm. Rat felt like he could feel it from across the room.

"He's been getting worse," Woogie said, and Rat strode over. He didn't think he could leave Pangi here, even if Zam said no to his offer. The idea of doing the labour for free crossed his mind once again.

He walked over to the bed and rested a hand on his head. It was warm. He looked to the wound; it was a nasty stab in the shoulder. That wound was slightly white and strained around the edge, the inside was red and irritated. Rat stared at it, his entire self filled with worry, coiling in his gut.

Just then, more people entered the room. Rat turned to look at them.

Prince Zam, with his sword out and pointed at Rat, flanked by the cloud demon, Poofy or something.

"What are you doing here?" Zam asked, his voice tight as he stared down Rat. Rat was reasonably sure he had more hearts than the yellow man at this point, but he also didn’t want to scare the poor guy. He had a feeling they were on the same team for more of this.

Luckily, Woogie piped up. "I invited him," his voice was steady but rushed, trying to catch Zam. The leader turned to Woogie.

"Why is he here?" he asked again, and Woogie looked a little lost but...

"I'll make Pangi better, take him and fix him and you will give me information on Wemmbu," Rat said, and Zam stared at him, eyes narrowed and sceptical.

"What stops you from killing him?" he asked. Rat shrugged.

"Nothing but my honour, but I put a lot on my honour."

He turned to look at the limp form and wanted to scoop him up and take him. Zam deliberated longer. He would simply die from their inaction.

"No one can protect him if you take him," and maybe he was right, but Rat wasn’t like that. He looked to Woogie, who was staring at Pangi, then to the blue demon person who was looking straight back at him. His eyes were calculating, but somewhere in the depths, Rat knew.

"Okay, I'll take him with as well," Rat gestured to the stranger, and Zam frowned.

"Poafa? Why?" Rat sighed.

"Because you don’t want him alone and defenceless," the guy’s name was Poafa. Neat. "On the condition he is blindfolded on the way to my base." Can’t have the church location leaked just yet.

Zam looked considering now. "Why me?" Poafa asked, his face open, and Rat shrugged.

"We haven’t really talked, you’re interesting." That seemed to be the right answer.

"Fine," Zam relented, and Rat nodded immediately, scooping Pangi up.

"What did you want for this?" Zam asked, and Rat, holding Pangi, smiled.

"Information on the infighting in Wemmbu's team."

Notes:

went to lego land yesterday, it was funny but quite
this time of year it usually is, i was kida chilly tho.

my partner is heading home soon, he's only 4 hours away I can drive, my friend is dateing someone local to him as well, we need to get our summer time tables together.

I'm a bit drunk if you couldnt tell, but I'm warm and my flatmate is accross from me in the kitchen. I have a friends birthday tommorow, I need to sleep.

this chapter was edited a while ago, i can't remember what it's about, why was monday so far away, i had an exam lmao, i'm a mess.

okay, I love you, good night <3

Chapter 5

Rat carried Pangi while guiding Poafa across the rooftops. They went in relative silence, only broken by his warnings or the creak of metal underfoot. Rat had to adjust the pangolin several times but he was out of it, and despite the occasional whimper of pain he stayed remarkably still and limp.

Rat was just walking through Demon downtown when the heavy footing of a stranger caught his attention. Someone else was on the roof, someone with far less grace than Rat and far less fear than Poafa. He turned to face them and met the clearly demonic face of a younger man.

He was dressed in an orange hoodie with a chequerboard sleeve. He had pierced ears and a scar above his right eye. He stared down both Rat and Poafa.

"Jepex," Poafa said, and it wasn’t a greeting, more like an empty sigh of acceptance. Rat frowned, glancing between them.

"Poafa," 'Jepex' answered, and Rat could hear the hollow hatred that reverberated through him. It was a hot type of rage, one that made a bitter taste in your mouth. "I’m not meant to let you through," he said, and Rat cocked his head.

In a move that could be badass he pulled his scythe out from where it rested on his hip, shifting Pangi around so he was draped on his back. Even with the added weight, Rat posed an intimidating figure.

"Do you know what will happen if you don’t let us through?" he asked, his voice low.

Jepex narrowed his eyes at him, inspecting him. His face twitched almost in challenge and Rat broke out in a grin.

"I won't kill you," he spoke softly. "I'll just liberate you from your legs." He swung the scythe threateningly close to the other, a show of power and control. He did not graze, yet he did push the other back.

For a few long moments, Jepex stared at him, re-evaluating or else calculating. Eventually he came to his own conclusion and stepped aside.

Rat moved forwards, not caring if he stabbed him in the back. Rat knew he'd hear the demon coming, and Poafa, ever obedient, followed. Rat wanted this one on his side, so perfectly capable of following instructions apart from...

"Sorry—" he said, his voice wispy as he passed Jepex, who simply scoffed.

"I don't want your apologies, traitor," he spat the words with vitriol at a normal volume, drowning out whatever Poafa had to say. "Mapicc won’t like this, Rat." He gestured at Rat, and the aforementioned man glanced over to see they were both focused on each other. "Comes and goes as he pleases."

Rat saw the way Poafa was shaking, saw what was going to happen if he didn’t step in.

"He can fight me too if he wants," Rat offered, diffusing the tension with a flick of his wrist. Both demons focused in on him. Rat showed his teeth, sharper than they should be. "Come along, Poafa," he ordered, and so they left the angry, scorned demon on the rooftop.

Mid was thankfully at the edge of the woods. Rat wasn’t looking forward to dragging a blind Poafa and carrying a barely lucid Pangi through the forest, but with her unexpected help he could do it easily. Mid took Poafa by the elbow and led as Rat took the rear, carrying the sickly pangolin.

It was a quiet journey, Mid warning about tree roots and Rat biting his tongue, trying not to hush Pangi in front of the other two too loudly.

They reached the church eventually and Rat was quick to settle Poafa into a decent moss crevice. He was allowed to take the blindfold off as Rat cleared a space in the centre of the room, and using a broken glitch he had built into the scythe, cleared the area by sterilising the top layer the same way he may hoe the ground.

Rat laid Pangi down and began to work on his player code. He couldn’t directly affect it, not having OP or being an admin, but he could affect the code flowing in and out. He could manipulate the air Pangi breathed but not Pangi’s function of breathing, as an example.

Rat had most of the code wrapped around him as he worked and knew the windows looked like random kaleidoscopes to most non-modders. He glanced up to see Mid mesmerised by his work and Poafa looking terrified.

"What are you?" Mid asked, and Rat smiled at her.

"I’m Rat," he answered, because that was a dumb question.

Mid shook her head and waved her arms, reiterating, "Yeah sure, that’s your name." She then looked directly into Rat’s soul. "What are you though?" Rat frowned, then smiled.

"Oh, you know," he waved a hand dismissively, "a god."

Then he went back to his work, hiding his smirk as they exchanged worried looks. Whether or not they believed him, he sure as shit had made them more confused, and in Rat’s books that was a good day's work.

Rat had just about done everything he could for Pangi. There was something strange about his code that Rat could only poke around the issue of. It was probably whatever made the stolen lives thing possible, but Rat's ability to tell what was wrong was hindered by the everything about his situation.

He sighed and sat back, looking at Mid and Poafa who had been quietly conversing. It was comforting having other people here, even if one was really looking out for Pangi. Derapchu had also made his way back at some point, but he was currently unconscious in his little root crevice where all his moss was piled. Rat shook his head.

Pangi was now unconscious in what Rat hoped was a healing coma.

Satisfied, he stood up and went about making a pot of food. He was using a pigeon he had caught early that morning when the sun was just rising, plucked by Mid earlier in the day. He smiled at the woman, who nodded.

Rat made good food. He even poked Derapchu awake to serve him before tuning him out and turning to the other two. Poafa ate his bowl of pigeon soup slowly, eyes fixated on Rat in a way he wasn’t sure the meaning of.

"Would you mind if I asked a question?" Rat cocked a brow.

"You already have," was his stock response.

Poafa scrunched his nose but continued. "Why haven’t you done anything with the casino district?" Rat cocked his head. The casino district, the other half of the city, the place he had been half subconsciously avoiding.

"I don’t really know anything about it," apart from the fact the man who ran it kept the ship running tight. "I’m new to the city." A tight ship in a place like this meant serious skill.

"Oh," Poafa said eloquently, looking down at his bowl. Like most people who passed through, he marvelled at the vegetables Rat had coaxed to grow in a place like this. "It’s not good there," he said finally. He glanced up at Rat. "Safe but not good."

After that the conversation turned to lighter topics, Poafa’s experiences with Zam, a few funny stories carefully doctored about the content SMP, many misadventures Mid had been on.

Rat and Mid flicked moss balls and bits of carrot at each other. Poafa watched in wonderment as they playfully ribbed.

Derapchu had to ruin it with a quick joke about food fights and food kinks, which had both Rat and Mid teaming up on him. The church was full of life, greenery and laughter, and Rat was glad for it. On occasion he would glance to Poafa, who observed quietly, guarding Pangi. A strange one he may be, he watched Rat back with no hostility.

o0O0o

Rat was going to work on a weapon for Mid, as his first follower and clearly the more skilled compared to Derapchu Rat thought it only appropriate. He was going to make her a sword. He wasn’t sure what type, but he knew it should be purple and should glow in the dark to light her way.

Rat grinned as he fiddled with the code. Cosmetics were not his specialty, but working on something practical while keeping it aesthetically appealing was a fun challenge and he was pulling the limits of the world magic and the code’s influence.

Rat knew Poafa was watching, entranced on the edge of his vision, the blue demonic figure’s eyes sparkling as he conducted a symphony of stars to create a sparkling trail of powerful micro explosions. He hoped it might cause a mild glow instead of an ever-flickering purple flame.

"What do you know about the current situation with Wemmbu?" Rat asked, manipulating galaxies as he spoke candidly. Poafa blinked a few times at him, obviously caught off guard but now scared.

"What exactly, which situation?" he tried to clarify. Rat shrugged. He had no idea, only rumours of infighting and possible weakness filtered down to Rat who skulked the city rooftops. Nothing concrete, nothing real. He wanted real.

"Uh well," Poafa said after the silence carried too long and Rat just continued working. Poafa gathered his thoughts and cocked his head. "Wemmbu might have noticed Mane and Flame’s..." he trailed off, looking thoughtful.

Rat glanced up, cocking his head and prompted Poafa to continue.

"They were getting... restless and Wemmbu," he considered, "he tried to crush it out by sending them on endless jobs."

He pursed his lips. Rat breathed in the galaxies he had created, considering the demon’s words.

"He sent them against Bacon," he said gravely, and Rat looked at him again. Poafa looked apprehensive and Rat was confused.

"Who?" he asked, and Poafa stared at him.

"You know? Bacon," he said the name with a little less emphasis and a little more... something. Rat shook his head.

"Curly hair? Netherborn?" Rat continued to shrug helplessly. Poafa stared down, consideringly.

"It’s not really important, what you should know is he is currently Mane’s new obsession."

"Oh," Rat intoned, interested. Obsession carried a lot of weight. What this was, what this could be, was very interesting for sure.

"Yeah, so..." Poafa shrugged. "Mane and Flame split off, they didn’t see eye to eye with Wemmbu anymore." Rat nodded, staring down at his work again, but Poafa seemed now to have grown somewhat talkative or else felt like the story wasn’t over.

"All the fighting rings are in disarray," he told Rat. "The demons are trying to move in, Wemmbu’s going off the deep end and Flame and Mane are doing their own thing." Rat ripped a star and embedded it in the handle.

"The demons?" Rat prompted, curious after Poafa’s personal relationship, but what he came back with was far more sensible.

"Yeah, Mapicc’s crew, with Reddoons though their weird allyship with business is really unstable." Rat perfected his galaxy sword, almost. Something was missing. "Through all this, Casino has captured two rings but I’m not sure if they really wanna lay claim." Rat sighed. This was complicated. He hated politics.

o0O0o

It had been two days. Rat knew after the first was over he would survive, and he was patient, waiting for him to decide he had had enough rest. Poafa, though, seemed restless, pacing, and Rat decided to throw him a bone.

"You know he’s stable now?" The question was light but Poafa snapped around to him. "You can take him back if it’s that stressful."

Poafa stuttered over apologies and thanks for hospitality, but Rat knew he wanted—needed—to get back to his team. He was courteous and polite as he guided Poafa out, blindfolding him and conscripting Mid’s help to guide. Rat carried Pangi, who was still far too light, as they walked through the dead forest.

Once they reached the edge where the castle loomed to their side, menacing and inactive, they unblinded him, and Rat made the decision to accompany the two through the business district. Something about their encounter before had rattled him.

"If you’re worried about Jepex, don’t be." Poafa had tried to dismiss Rat, but he had shrugged.

"Best to travel with numbers, someone has to defend him." Rat hoisted Pangi a little higher and walked towards the city settlements so he could once again take the high ground. Poafa followed a step behind, trying to keep in Rat's shadow while still being close.

They moved like shadows across the rooftops in the morning light. It should have been fine, it should have been, but Rat could feel eyes, people, footsteps. It was all around, but it was also not. Someone, something, was stalking them.

Keep moving was his motto, so Rat didn’t pause, didn’t stumble, even as he tracked the predator in his mind. They were almost out of the demon downtown when they decided enough recon had been done, that they wanted to meet.

A demon, clear as day. Red hoodie, black horns that ombréed red. Rat smiled at him but didn’t receive any reaction back. This must be the head of the demons, or possibly not. He looked to Poafa, who sported a similarly blank expression.

"Hello, Poafa," the red stranger drawled. "Abandoned another team?" he asked, and Rat's shoulders rose, hackles ready to fight, but Poafa sighed.

"Hi, Mapicc," he sighed. "We were never a team, but I'm not leaving the Peacekeepers." The demon, Mapicc, puffed up with anger, ready to fight. Rat was not dealing with this.

"Hey," he said and passed the unconscious Pangi to Poafa with little fanfare. The man, caught off guard, dipped slightly but handled the weight well, staring at Rat with narrowed eyes. "Head home." Rat turned to Mapicc, his expression hardening as he did. "If you have a problem with me we may as well fight about it."

The direct approach caught the demon off guard long enough. Poafa got the hint and fucked off out of the danger zone. Rat was not playing keepaway with an unconscious person on the sidelines, but now he had sent the two along their way he was ready. Really, Rat would prefer someone was with them, but he had enough faith in Poafa and his ability to run and hide.

Mapicc rushed Rat, his hand bearing claws of black that seemed to stretch as he swung. Rat, knowing he was outmatched skill-wise, decided to play to his strength. Pulling out his scyther, he pirouetted away, spinning them both as Mapicc made an animalistic dive for his weapon hand.

Diving in, Rat went to lay a blow, but the demon dodged. But in his haste, he teetered alarmingly close to the roof's edge. Emboldened, Rat moved in, but before he could lift his gangly weapon he was once again thrown off as Mapicc rushed him.

"What are you, a Clown Pierce wannabe?" he taunted, though Rat wasn’t sure why. Clownpierce sounded familiar. He dismissed him as Mapicc was trying to make an attack and Rat was not ready for close combat.

Rat rushed Mapicc and with a hook of his scythe and a strong leap was airborne. Quickly, Mapicc followed, launching himself off to the side to dodge out from under his glinting weapon. Rat cleaved it down and the clang reverberated across the rooftops.

Rat then realised he had accumulated an audience in the streets below. People were staring up as they battled on the rooftops, eyes wide as Mapicc danced death’s tango with Rat always a breath away from falling, from flying.

Rat spun wildly and for once Mapicc was not quick enough. Rat got a reasonably lucky hit in on him and Mapicc yelled. Rat had modded the weapon and it was clear Mapicc was not familiar with that. As he gripped his side, blood gushed from the injury. Even as natural healing tried to run its course, Rat's manipulations stopped the world itself from fixing Mapicc.

He smiled demonstrably at him and readied his scythe again.

Mapicc had a choice. He looked down at the crowd, at Rat, at the rooftops — all calculating, all careful, all balancing and bargaining and betting on a game of life and death no one would ever be able to really win.

Mapicc chose to live another day. He turned tail and fled. Even as the streets below gasped and whispered, Mapicc left because he was a good leader, one who knew death was worth more than image.

Rat stood on the roof for a few more moments watching the spot he disappeared from.

o0O0o

Rat didn’t really want to return yet to the church. He had no immediate business and really he had the information he demanded for healing Pangi out of Poafa. He had nothing to do. Which was why, when walking down a normal street — something he knew better than to do — he was somewhat pleased to feel a light hand slip into the pocket he had sewn onto his skirt. It gave him something to do, at least.

Rat spun, grabbing the perpetrator in his surprisingly strong grip and disappeared both of them into a small alleyway. It wasn’t really even that — it was just the side entrance to a nightclub of some description, with a small mound of trash that smelled rancid.

He had the red slime pinned to the wall — the same red slime from Redd’s strange discreet business meeting. "Sorry," he squeaked, trying to wriggle and shrink away, but Rat had him down firm.

Rat went to threaten him, then paused. This was one of Redd’s men, one of the most powerful men in the entire city. They should be able to get by without stealing. This was a strange coincidence, or otherwise something more.

Rat sighed. "This is not how we are kind to each other," he said, his voice level, and the red slime struggled more desperately. Rat could hear his barely suppressed whimpers. It took him a moment, but then Rat remembered he was literally gripping the poor man like a vice.

He eased up and flipped the poor guy. He was actually on eye level with Rat, which was sort of funny because honestly Rat was not that tall. "What's your name?" he asked, voice plain, and the slime stuttered.

"I— I'm Spep, Spepticle," he struggled out, but Rat plastered on a brilliant smile.

"Hello, Spepticle. Nice to meet you, Spepticle." The slime did not look reassured.

Rat decided he was going to have a little fun. With a swift drop and lift, he had lifted the slime hybrid off his feet, now draped over his shoulder. Spepticle squeaked, then began to thrash. Rat hissed, "Stop or I'll drop you."

Immediately he stopped thrashing, went uncomfortably limp and let out a rather pathetic sound. Glancing at his face, Rat noticed he looked rather petrified. Shame — he wasn't really in any danger, but making him squirm was a rather funny experience.

Rat scaled the building, not sure how to get to Red's office block apart from the most direct route. As he went, the man-slime person on his shoulder shuffled around. "Do you own the Peacekeepers now?" he asked, and his voice was muffled by wind and movement, but Rat was listening out and was caught a little off guard.

"No?" he answered, confused. "Why would I?" he trailed off, offering Spepticle the space to explain.

"You're just always worrying about them, or working with them," he sounded curious? No. Upset? No, something. "People want to talk with you, but you're just really elusive."

Rat jumped a gap and took care not to ram Spepticle in the stomach with his shoulder. He had a few seconds to think his words over before answering. "I try to be more unknown. Zam's crew is just—" he lacked the words. The Peacekeepers were not weak. They were special. Maybe he did want to own them, but politics were never his thing.

Spepticle stayed mostly quiet apart from the occasional oomph as air was driven from his lungs. Rat was down one rooftop, across another, jumped another gap, ducked under a vent system to take a shortcut. It was easy, and even with added weight, effortless from well-earned skill and maybe just a little bit of his hybrid nature.

Rat landed on the roof of Red's building, slipped the guards and ducked in, still carrying Spep. The slime began to fidget but Rat gave him an admonishing squeeze and he immediately settled again. Rat walked to Red's office again and without knocking opened the door. Red's back was facing the door — he stood between Ash's legs, who was sat on the desktop.

Ash yelped and Red spun. Rat dumped Spep on the carpet, not really wanting to engage with whatever this was. "Look after your toys better," he ordered, and then dodged across the room to once again throw himself out of the window beside the desk. He caught himself on the ledge and it was muscle memory to leave from there.

Notes:

My partner is leaving tomorrow, I went to an art show today and saw my ex's art, I hurt him so bad and I don't know how to help, I am so, so deep in my feelings right now, I think I just need to sleep for 5 days straight.

Chapter 6

Rat decided it was time to bite the bullet. It had been a few days and he had been laying low. He had also been making more weapons, a pair of brass knuckles for Derpachu blessed with swiftness, as well as starting on a flaming trident that could burn even without a fuel source.

Rat was ready to head out again. Mid watched him pack up and asked then, "Can I join?" She had a decent weapon now, he had given her the sword of Galexys, and she was good on rooftops. Rat knew she wasn't the best at fighting, but between him and their weapons, Mid was a good ally to have.

"Sure," he said with a shrug. They headed to the Casino district.

It was strange, the roofs were more stable, the people less abundant. Where Demon Downtown was constantly bustling but riddled with petty crime, the Casino district was empty, the streets occupied by one, maybe two people at a time.

Rat led Mid around the roofs, navigating the streets below them far quicker and getting a lay of the land. Rat had been putting this off for so long it felt a little surreal to be doing this now.

Rat noticed, as well as the lack of people, there was an abundance of signs, advertisements and posters all depicting one face. Eventually they reached a billboard, this massive monster of an apparatus that had the same face drawn on it with black tar-like paint and blood-red details. Over the top written in white was a warning, a message, a statement:

'Clown Pierce Is Watching'

Rat stared at it for a few long moments. That mask—it used to be someone he knew, a long, long time ago. Rat wasn't sure he knew the man behind it anymore.

Mid gave him time to stare, to silently mourn, but time was still moving even if Rat wished it didn't, and Mid grabbed him and gently pulled him down behind a pillar. Rat looked to her quizzically, and Mid pointed over the edge.

Down in the street below, two figures moved, one with blue hair, the other with void skin and wispy black hair. Rat watched as they walked in silence, shoulder to shoulder. On their hips were netherite black swords. Rat was astounded that type of material could even be found in a city like Lifesteal.

The strangers passed a corner and were once again gone, and Mid leaned into Rat, sagging with relief. "Oh thank god," she sighed, and Rat cocked his head. She looked up at him before elaborating, "Enforcers. They don't like 'strangers' in Clown's streets." Rat must have pulled a face, as Mid muffled a laugh with her hand.

Rat continued down the streets. Everything was grungy and dark, but he spotted a few moments of levity. It was strange, like Gotham if Joker ran the city—or, well, the architecture was not goth enough but eh...

Mid and Rat did some more wandering, getting a lay, and then Mid froze. "Rat, I'm gonna check in on an old friend," she said, her voice relaxed. Rat glanced to her. "Can I do that without your company?" It sounded like a request, but due to the tension Rat knew she would really rather he left her alone, and Rat didn't really mind.

"Sure. Be back by sundown, I think I'm going to make cod and salad." Mid smiled at him mildly.

"Thanks, Rat," she said before dropping off the roof. Rat didn't track her. He knew she could pass through the shadows alone, untraceable. He decided he still had a little exploring to do though.

Rat was looking more around the industrial buildings, looking for bases, empty spaces and grounds. He knew warehouses were the best place to set up, and there were a handful this side of the city—far less than Demon Downtown or the docks, but still a fair few. He spotted a house dedicated to a younger gang. It looked to mostly have younger captives of the city, hackers and glitches in too deep. Rat was shocked they didn't try to rehabilitate this lot, but well... As Rat watched, a young girl sat on the top bunk began to dissolve in a slow, painful process. She reappeared the other side of the room. No one reacted, which meant this was normal. Glitches like that were not very easy to fix.

Rat peered into a warehouse not too far from there and froze. Inside was mostly empty. It was dark, old industrial equipment stripped of metal and valuables sat rotting in the dark. The centre of the room, however, had a single light glowing down on a chair, and in the chair sat a man.

He was slumped, blood was dripping from his nose, but he was conscious. Over him stood the monster from the signs, the clown mask Rat recognised but did not know. The creature that haunted most of the community's nightmares, the man who had vanished one day without a trace.

Clown, Rat's old friend.

He spoke too quietly for Rat to hear, but Rat saw the way the guy tied to the chair sneered and spat in Clown's face. Rat watched as Clown stayed still, let the spittle hit his mask, and reared back. Rat watched as he pulled a fist back and began to wail on the man tied to the chair.

Blood and viscera flew from the exchange. The interrogation-turned-beating was bloody and brutal. Clown was dragging out the experience with expert cruelty.

Rat, compelled to look away, inspected the shadows and spotted a man with white curly hair half-huddled in the shadows. He watched the beating, eyes transfixed. They were almost purple as he stared. He looked terrified. He looked fascinated. This strange dichotomy of transfixion and fear—disgust was not on his face in any capacity, just adoration and panic.

Rat dared not move, dared not breathe as he watched Clown slam the guy a little too hard over the temple, and with that he was completely out, all the tension gone, just sagging in the binds. Rat continued to watch.

Clown straightened and stood frozen over the man in the chair. Rat had no idea what he had done to piss Clown off so much—maybe nothing. Rat didn’t know the man behind the mask anymore. Maybe he never did. He was frozen like a statue. Rat watched in horror as the smaller man walked out of the shadows. He walked up to Clown, and Rat could see the muscle definition on his arms, a builder or a redstoner, not a fighter. Why was he here?

He reached a hand out, and Clown did not move. Gently, like he was approaching a wild animal, he patted Clown on the arm. Once, twice. He looked so utterly terrified and yet his hands were steady, his touch gentle.

Clown, giving no warning, turned on his toe and grabbed the guy. Rat was so ready to watch another murder, tensed and prepared to flee or fight. But instead Clown pulled the man into him, clutched him close. Clown bear-hugged the stranger with white hair, body tense and unyielding.

Rat was shocked, and yet he became more shocked when he realised the man, the smaller redstoner, was cooing gentle, meaningless words of reassurance. They were wrapped up in each other—predator and prey, danger incarnate. Rat left.

o0O0o

Rat mulled over what happened in the Casino district for a few days. Mid had filled him in—based on his description, that had been Clown and possibly one of his lieutenants. Her best guess would be Branzy, but as Rat hadn’t been able to get a good look, he had no real concrete ideas.

Mid and Derpachu had filled Rat in best they could on all his questions, as they always did. There were approximately six or seven distinct districts and leaders. Obviously Demon Downtown, led by Mapicc—the guy Rat had defeated in battle. Then there was the Business District, which was almost merged with Demon Downtown. That group was led by Red.

Then it got more foggy—people and ideas Rat was less sure on. The Castle, as described by both Mid and Derpachu, was an almost taboo place to talk about. A cold monolith to a time no one really knew. No one went near it because there was a near-constant battle going on inside. Subz and Parrot, the raven and the goat, throwing down for a meaningless lump of rich. They and their merry band of idiots could have it, in Rat’s opinion—they had all lost it.

There was obviously the Casino District, led by Clown.

The Peacekeepers kept a hold on Spawn, but the fighting rings were also a deeply engrained part of Spawn, and by the sounds of recent battles no one really had control over the strip.

When Rat took his evaluation to Derapchu and Mid, they both sat and thought about it.
"There are other groups," Mid said, thinking, but Derapchu stretched.

"Most of the groups are affiliated with one of the big league though." He moved the pot of stew he was making off the fire and fed it some more cut wood. Derapchu was trying to take over housekeeping duties from Rat, which was sweet, but Rat still liked to cook and clean. Derapchu just won the argument that day, which was rather rare. "You did forget yourself though—well, us and the forest."

Rat watched the fire crawl higher. Yes, he forgot himself because really Rat saw himself as the next step. Currently he was just with Mid and Derapchu. The forest was their home, but soon, soon...

"I think he's taking over," Mid said casually, draped over her branch that she slept curled in the crook of. Derapchu looked at Rat—really looked.

Rat sat by the fire Derapchu had fed and was now crackling. Rat sat by the fire and he plotted, because yes. That had been his goal. He was going to run this fucking city.

o0O0o

Rat headed out into the city proper the next day. It was early in the morning, but often that was an excellent time to do surprise attacks. Rat had figured out weeks ago where the Peacekeepers slept, knew when they woke up. It wasn’t like he was stalking them—okay, maybe a little—but he liked them so that made it okay.

Rat dropped into their bedroom, looked them over, then went to shake Pangi awake. Predictably, he woke up swinging a knife, which was kind of impressive, but Rat was faster. He caught his hand and redirected the weapon, twisted his wrist and made him drop it.

Pangi's eyes were wild and scared, but as he adjusted, he realised who it was.

"Rat?" he asked, and Rat smiled awkwardly.

"Sorry, yes. Good morning." He shuffled a little. "Could you wake up Zam? I need to have a chat."

Pangi, still a little addled and lost, didn’t ask any questions, just did as he was told. Slid out of bed and stumbled over to Zam, who slept in a hammock. Carefully, he poked Zam.
"Zam..." he said his name. "Zam, wake up." Zam opened one eye.

"What, Pangi?" His voice was thick with sleep.

"Rat's here," Pangi said awkwardly.

"Tell him to go away," Zam slurred, already going to lay down again.

"No, I mean in here, in the room." Pangi pointed. Rat saw Zam's brain running slowly.

"How did you—?" he began, but before he could ask, Woogie was up. Woogie seemed inexplicably to be a morning person—or, well, better functioning in the morning than the other two—as he got up and immediately began interrogating Zam.

"How did you get here?" he asked, and Rat gestured to the door.

"From the front door." Woogie's eyes boggled.

"What do you want?" His voice was strained, and Rat smiled. Zam rolled out of his hammock and was also stood. Poafa was also rousing now, his messy black curls sticking up.

"Gentlemen," he said with a little grandiosity laced into his voice, "I come to you with a deal."

None of the assembled looked convinced—in fact, all of them looked a little worried. Rat just had to keep pushing. "I wouldn't expect any long-lasting sacrifice, just a simple transaction. I can get rid of a problem long-term for you."

Zam, now just awake enough, sighed and bit the bullet. "Sure, you're in our room to offer a totally fair deal. What's the pitch, man?"

Rat gasped in mock offence, but, well, fair. He had broken into their sleeping quarters that he should not know the secret location of, after all.

"I'm going to need hearts to pull this off." The looks of concern drove him. "I am going to make a move on our collective little demon problem." The expressions made told him they at least agreed on the issue. "Mapicc has been pulling a lot of shit recently," he said, making a face.

"I want to depose him."

Zam opened his mouth.

"Not fully. I will keep him alive."

Zam closed his mouth.

"I want to send a message," he said gravely, "and for that I'm going to need to take him down a peg."

Zam looked at the rest of his group. Pangi looked interested. Woogie looked worried.

"What's gonna stop you from keeping the hearts?"

Rat smiled at them. "I will have to break into his complex, I'm sure, to take lives in the way." Zam looked a little reassured. Woogie looked scared, and Rat really looked at Poafa—he looked invested...

"I'm helping," Poafa said, and the three others looked to him. He froze as if just registering he spoke but sat back up and backed himself. "If they give hearts, I'm going with you." Rat shrugged—the more the merrier.

"Okay," Zam said, and Rat turned to him.

"Okay?" he repeated redundantly.

But Zam smiled, thin lips. "Okay," he said again.

Woogie and Pangi began to withdraw lives—hearts. With each life they grew weaker. Rat could see their cheeks hollow and eyes sink—they looked ill. In their hands, they held stars. Like the little galaxies he tucked into Mid's sword, each star was a life.

"Don't fuck this up," Woogie warned, handing over three lives. He then passed another two to Poafa. "I'm on one," he warned, and Zam shook his head.

"See you soon," he told Rat, handing him five. Then he turned to Poafa. "You don't have to do this." Poafa smiled. "I want to." Zam sighed. He looked sickly as he gave Poafa a single heart.

Rat was on twenty, the limit, so when Pangi handed Poafa six lives he was unsurprised.

"You ready?" he asked the blue demon.

Poafa, still looking tired, shrugged. "Sure." Rat smiled.

"Grab breakfast and let's go."

On the way across the rooftops, still in the dark of early morning, Poafa spoke into the chilly air. "You could've taken them." Rat let the fact hang.

"Yeah, I could," he answered back honestly. Even with three of them, they had been asleep. He could have taken all of them in a fight. Spawn killed them a few times and then they would be easy as a single swing.

"You're going to kill Mapicc, aren't you?" he asked. His voice was void of emotion. He had looked Rat in the eyes, seen the light that glowed behind his beady glare and still wanted to follow him. If he was not sworn to Zam, Rat would've taken him.

"Only if he's more trouble than he's worth," a non-committal answer, but it was all he would get.

Rat had them in downtown fast. He had all the Watchers' schedules at least semi-memorised, and that was why he was waiting in the shadows of one particular residential building. See, Jepexx was on shift—the least observant of the Demon crew. Rat held Poafa back quickly, stopping him from drawing any attention, then gestured for him to follow.

Silently they followed Jepexx around the route and then down the fire escape of an old warehouse, where he ducked into an alleyway. Careful they didn't lose him, Rat and Poafa followed, seeing Jepexx disappear down a nearly hidden ladder in the pavement, barred over and leading to the basement of one of the buildings.

Again they followed.

The Demon base was a massive labyrinth of corridors, all hidden under the streets. Rat was impressed. It felt comforting to be deep underground after so long, like coming home. Poafa, though, was tense—they were in enemy territory, after all.

Rat was in. He was ready to wreak havoc, but he wanted to be at least a little subtle. At first, they just wandered quiet and unobtrusive through the corridors until they came upon their first target.

A woman. She was down within seconds of spotting them. Rat had her face pressed into the ground.

"How many lives are you on?" he demanded. She hissed and tried to yell, but Rat slashed her throat. He gave her the option to say one and be spared, but she didn't try to defend herself. Rat looked up at Poafa as the life he took tumbled out her bleeding throat. Rat handed it to Poafa, who tucked it into his sling, then they both began running.

They must know they were here now—not much time.

Luckily, Rat knew the general layout of a base like this. Housing would be near the heart, at the heart. So with little effort, he found it. Mapicc's room was one of the singles along one row, and Rat didn't really care for quiet anymore. He busted in.

Outside, he saw Jepexx rushing out, but Poafa came to his guard and stood at the door, battering him off with a baseball bat Rat wasn't sure he saw at first.

Rat had to trust Poafa to stay guard as he bore down on Mapicc, who was stood confused up from his bed. Thankfully he was dressed in a loose T-shirt, his hair was wild and unmanaged. Rat rushed him.

Mapicc, unarmed, had nothing to defend himself. He went down quick. Rat felt the life drop but he didn’t care. He rushed the bed and again killed Mapicc where he lay. The man screamed as the scythe dug into his throat, again and again. Rat killed him—reckless, monstrous, wild.

Rat spawn killed him 9 times. His blood stained the floors, stained the bedding, stained Rat’s weapon. If he was on ten, he would be on one life left, but Rat knew he had more.

Rat sat back, letting Mapicc breathe for the first time. He looked at the pathetic wreck he had boiled the headstrong demon down to. “Here’s the deal, I want power over your gang. I want in.” Mapicc stared at him, eyes wide, then his face scrunched up into that of hatred.

He spat at Rat.

Rat killed him again—dove for his face and killed him.

Behind Rat, Poafa just killed Jepexx. Rat could hear the yell of pain as the bat was crashed across the back of his head. Rat stared down at Mapicc as he respawned.

“I’m not giving up,” Mapicc said, his voice hollow and dry. Rat cocked his head and cleaved his head in two. He died again.

When Mapicc woke again, Rat actually sorta felt bad. He also didn’t know how many lives he was on, so he was in dangerous territory. The lives Mapicc had dropped were tucked safely in his sling. “Your group will get good food,” he told Mapicc, who was only half-conscious. “I look out for what is mine,” Rat said. “Good soil too. You could grow things, and all they have to do is do as I say.” Mapicc stared at him, and then inexplicably he began laughing. Even lying in a pool of his own blood, in a bed he had been killed in a thousand times, he was just laughing at Rat.

Rat watched as he heaved great lungfuls and laughed. Poafa walked in—he was covered in blood, but the corridor was silent.

“I know you don’t trust him,” he spoke, voice soft. Mapicc opened his eyes just a sliver—when had he closed them?—but he was still laughing. “He’s a good one. A strange one, but a good one.” Mapicc closed his eyes again and sighed heavily. He lay there silently.

“Don’t deny his magic, you’ve seen it,” Poafa told him, and Rat frowned.

Mapicc spoke. “Felt it,” he acquiesced.

“The scythe,” Poafa sighed.

Mapicc sat up slowly, gingerly. Rat let him, though alarm bells were telling him to put Mapicc back down. “My men cannot see me like this,” Mapicc said, and Rat shook his head.

“I will keep you like this until you have proven trustworthy,” he said, then glanced at his imaginary watch. “I’ll return in the morning. It will be a bloodbath or a discussion.”

With that he left. Behind him, the complex sighed gratefully.

Notes:

Posting from work most likely lmao, Its summer break now and idk what to do, I'm trying to pick up another gig cuz my current one is so flaky but i can only get zero hours cuz of my health lmao <3

Chapter 7

Notes:

This is going up early because i have a 10 hour shift tommorow and I cannot be fucked to post it then :)

Rat went back to Zam's place. The Peacekeepers' complex was pretty well protected, after all. Rat and Poafa went together up the pipes and across the fire escape into the building they slept in. It was separate from their home base, which was smart—smarter than Mapicc.

Rat climbed through their window, closely followed by Poafa. He immediately started to withdraw the lives he had borrowed and passed them back out. Poafa did the same.

"Did you do it?" Pangi asked, and Rat smiled at him, thin-lipped.

"We'll see tomorrow," he told them. Poafa then took over passing back the hearts he had borrowed, as well as passing out the lives he had liberated from the members of Mapicc's crew.

They shared the hearts out, and Rat slumped a little. "Can I stay here for the night?" he asked, a mix of wanting to make sure no one followed them back and the ache of desire to head back to the church drove him.

Zam smiled at him, warmer than he usually did, and the other three shrugged. "Sure!" he said, and Rat sighed and went to the corner, where he promptly collapsed and went into a half slumber.

Rat wasn’t quite asleep. He wasn’t quite awake. The four members of the Peacekeepers pottered around, went on patrol, played cards. Rat and Poafa slept. They were in good spirits by the time it came to early morning. Rat was awake again, as was Zam. Poafa was cleaning up in the bathroom and they were playing a silent game of Shithead.

Zam's rules were weird, but Rat got the gist quickly.

"Are we allies?" Zam asked softly. Rat stared down at his cards, put down the next one, then he looked up. Zam was staring directly at him.

They remained in that staring match for a long time—longer than Rat could really measure, longer than was comfortable. Zam's expressions were open, curious, hopeful and accepting. He was one of the kindest in the city. He had a heart of steel.

"If that is what you want to call it, it will be," Rat told him. What they had, what Rat was building, Zam could call it an alliance.

o0O0o

Rat woke to return to the Demon's headquarters. It was a quiet walk. The rooftops were empty, but in Demon Downtown, tension was high. Rat could swear, even as he went unnoticed, whispers of what happened followed him. No one knew what to think. Rat was such a non-player most of the time, it was groundbreaking. The mystery was gripping the populace.

Rat made his way to the entrance of their main base. The building was never unoccupied, never lacked armaments, but today it was quiet. Nowhere was quiet in the city unless something was wrong.

Outside was Mapicc. He stood tall. The fact he was missing so many lives was not on display, but Rat could tell he was still awfully close to death. He was unarmoured and in fact unarmed in front of his men. Rat had no idea what he was playing at or what he was trying to achieve.

"Hello, Rat," he greeted with a courteous head nod. He stood back straight and shoulders back. Rat waved, his weapon unsheathed on his back. He felt exposed here, like this was a trap, but he knew he could kill Mapicc before anyone could kill him, so realistically he should be fine.

"Hello, Mapicc," he greeted back, stood about 10 metres away from the Demon. "Have you made your decision?" he asked curiously. The Demon's jaw worked for a fraction of a second, but quickly he returned to normal.

"I think I have," he confessed, like it was as easy as a casual meeting between friends, not bending a knee to a stranger.

"Walk with me?" Rat asked—a test, to see if Mapicc was really going to do as he said. Mapicc froze for a second, considering Rat. The fact he was alone, the position, his eyes darted around for a few agonising seconds.

Then he nodded.

"Of course." He walked with Rat in silence, side by side through the streets of Downtown. The crowds parted as they went, and Rat wasn’t sure he liked it. He had gotten used to the rooftops, to the shadows, but he needed a bold statement and this may be it.

They walked in silence. Rat led, Mapicc followed, and though neither liked it, it was necessary.

They made it out the Downtown heart, and immediately Rat took to the shadows—not the roofs, it was far enough out not to matter, but the dark and the dreary were the perfect places to get lost in.

Rat guided Mapicc in his own footsteps, and clumsily the Demon head followed.

They made it to the forest edge and Rat began to walk. The trees were dense, the smell of scorched earth and rot strong even when nothing had grown there for years. Rat walked until he no longer felt eyes on him, until he knew it was deep enough in the wrong direction from the church.

He gave no warning, no opportunity to counterattack. Rat knew he would lose if it came to skill, so he had to use tactics.

Rat knocked Mapicc out with a single blow.

He crumpled like a bag of bricks and Rat sighed. He bent down to pick him up. Mid was going to be pissed. He carried him through the dead forest and breathed in the cold earth. Rat knew the night would come soon and he wanted to test out the artificial moon he had made. Rat had developed an artificial sun when he realised the sun was not giving the correct amount of vitamin D, and both Derapchu and Mid said they experienced improvements.

Rat walked into his church, the head of the demons slung across his back, and waved casually to Mid who was stood up gaping.

"No," she said, and Rat moved Mapicc off his back.

"Yes," he told Mid with a smile. The brunette shook her head.

It was then that Derapchu came butting in. "What are you—" he began before seeing Mapicc and cutting himself off. "What did you do?" he asked Rat, incredulous. Then he began laughing. "No seriously, what did you do?"

Rat shrugged. "New initiation process," he said convincingly.

Mid shook her head. "I'm glad you didn't do this to us." Rat smirked.

"Hey, it could happen any day now." Both of his followers shivered. "Okay, I'm going to need you two to hide as he wakes up."

Derapchu and Mid listened to Rat's plan, their eyes fixed on him, their heads tilted in attention. They went to hide in the lush vines as Rat lay Mapicc down to rest.

Rat had created a sanctuary out of the church, made a holy place out of a rotting husk, had created life on the island without growth or change. The artificial sun bore down on them, warmed skin and soothed aches. Mapicc shuffled in the light, pressed a cheek into a pillow of moss. Rat's artificial jungle of life filled him with hope.

And he was going to need to hold onto that hope.

Mapicc woke with a start. Rat had been waiting no more than ten minutes, sat on the altar of his home carving a branch into a staff—intricate designs that would soon glow with enchantments the city had never seen. He wasn’t sure of it, but he thought it would be a good weapon for Derapchu—long range but heavy, no finesse needed.

"What do you want?" Mapicc asked, sitting on a bed of moss. He didn’t have the usual reaction of total awe at the inside of Rat's church, but Rat knew he was running on adrenaline. This was not how things usually went in the city.

Rat smiled at him. "Was that really necessary?" he enquired further, and Rat shrugged.

"It was to see how thick your skull could be," he said with a chipper smile and a kick of his legs. Mapicc sighed and looked down, only to reel. He looked up and around, and there was the awe Rat expected. He smiled smug as ever at the excellent work he did taking the empty church and turning it into a sanctuary.

Artificial sunshine beat down on them and the leaves rustled with a light breeze. None of the biting cold could reach them here, the rain nor the trouble. A river ran through the church, dug by Derapchu to keep all the plants propagated. It weaved within tree roots.

Mapicc was cradled in a nest of moss and branches. He looked to Rat with a new expression, one far younger than anything self-respecting people would allow on the island, like he had met a fairytale being. "I haven't seen so much life in..." he trailed off.

"See, I said I can offer you food, medicine, safety," he gestured around to the beautiful room all around him, "if you would just succumb to my rule."

Mapicc frowned. "I already did." His eyes darkened, the bitter taste of those words clear to Rat on his tongue. Rat sighed and shook his head.

"No you didn't, not yet," Rat tells him, and then he leaves him a poetic picture—the red hoodie contrasting with the grey stone and soft green of plants. White lilies grow in the roots as the river runs by his side. He sits where the preacher once stood, staring up at Rat, his expression confused, his eyes thankful.

Rat wandered off to make breakfast, a quick affair with precut vegetables and quickly made tortillas. He sacrificed some pork to add some zing—it was only a day out, and Rat knew it wouldn't hurt them.

Once he'd made enough for four, he returned, passing the burrito to Mapicc who stared at the food, confused. "Mid, Derapchu!" he calls, and out of the shrubbery both of them come down. Mid was somewhere in the rafters, Derapchu had been in the arm of a branch of a tree that had split through a wall.

Mapicc jumped when they appeared, but when neither even looked at him, just zeroed in on Rat's cooking, he relaxed only a little.

Both took their food and sat down on the moss-coated floor. Mid was closer to the water and was touching the flow with some interest. Derapchu was sat beside Rat, running his hand along the staff. Rat knew he'd like it.

They ate in comfortable silence, occasionally broken by Mapicc's anxious shuffling.

The wrap was good. It had mushrooms and potatoes and pork, and they were cooked on the fire, and the little bit of cheese Rat had managed to make was just amazing. He wished he could get a cow, but churning old milk was actually pretty easy, and cheese was one of the only dairy products that could be made.

After he had eaten, Mapicc sat and stared at the ground, contemplating. Rat cleared up the pan he had used to cook the food and went back to carving the staff. Derapchu stayed by his side—he'd pulled out a sewing project from somewhere and was trying to work on his stitches. Rat had both Derapchu and Mid working on mending skills.

Mapicc eyed them, eyed the room, watched the water and breathed, and Rat knew the moment the tension left his shoulders for real this time that he was in—that he had him, really.

"Okay Rat, sure," Mapicc said. He looked at Rat, and he meant it.

Rat grinned. "Good," he answered. He stood up and was ready to perform the next steps. He walked over to Mapicc and grabbed him by the arm. "Let's head off," he said, and Mapicc stood as well and followed. Rat felt no need to blindfold him, even when Mid watched, eyes wide. He may have knocked him out on the way here, but Rat trusted Mapicc.

He was a dog, loyal and blind. He wasn’t going to use him, but he was going to utilise him. Rat knew the best way to get into Mapicc's head was by letting Mapicc into his. He wants to be a leader, to be in control, and what Rat offers to him now is that—control and trust back. He still hadn’t given back the lives, but for now, he was giving Mapicc something far more valuable.

They walked back to the city and took to the rooftops to travel. It was more comfortable for Rat, and Mapicc found his footing quickly. They leapt across rickety rooftops and back to Demon Downtown, but Rat wanted to go a little further, and Mapicc was still following him dutifully.

He headed to a warehouse on the border of business. No one used it anymore. Rat had cleared the place out and had carefully staked his claim, not wanting to seem like a threat to Red's reign but also needing a mostly neutral location.

He dropped Mapicc off with a brief smile. "Could you please wait here?" he asked politely, and the demon nodded, sitting down on an old wooden pallet stack and looking at the room idly. Rat, once descending he was situated, headed off to find Zam.

He had the vague idea of a plan and two people he needed to get along. He was pretty sure Zam and Mapicc at least were tentatively non-hostile, which would make working with them easier, but he would rather have all his factions in a row. Derapchu and Mid would never cause him trouble, so what he needed was the Peacekeepers and Demon Gang happy enough to coexist.

He grabbed Zam, who was walking the streets with a keen pair of eyes. The yellow man was a little surprised on being grabbed but quickly followed once he realised it was Rat dragging him up the wall onto the rooftop.

"Did you really need to?" he began to ask, but Rat cut him off with a chipper grin.

"Race you," he said, turning and beginning to run.

"Hey, no fair!" Zam called, already also rushing to keep up. "I don't even know where we're going!" he said, as he was just behind Rat, but the madman didn't really care. He rushed back to the warehouse where Mapicc had been sitting for tops twenty minutes. He was still on the pallet stack, but now his legs were crossed.

Rat came jumping down from the rafters, using them like the branches of a tree. He was a master of the art. Zam was following—a little clumsy, but good for his first try. When he landed, he made eye contact with Mapicc.

"Oh," he said, staring at the demon.

"Ah," the demon answered, also awkward.

Rat sighed. He didn’t care if they were in a relationship or exes or something—he needed them to get on so he could move on with his plan.

"Okay, party people," he said, catching both of their attention. "I don’t know what your beef may or may not be—"

Both opened their mouths, Zam to protest "It's not—", Mapicc to deflect "It won't get—", but Rat raised a hand and both fell silent.

"As I said, I don’t care." Both pulled particularly funny faces, but Rat carried on. "As I was saying, I'm currently Mapicc's new boss." He did little jazz hands, and Zam's eyes went a little incredulous. He glanced between Rat and Mapicc, growing more shocked when he didn’t deny it. "If you two don’t get along, I am totally capable of being your boss too." Was that a threat? Maybe, if you looked at it from certain perspectives—but Rat could make good on it, and Zam knew it.

Zam looked at Mapicc. They had a silent conversation between them with lots of eye contact and cocked heads, and eventually, Zam sighed.

"Fine," he said. "We got along alright but yeah, we'll play nice and all that." He gestured at Mapicc as if to describe him as 'all that'. Mapicc snorted.

"You love me," he singsonged, and Zam rolled his eyes.

"Nope."

Rat sighed. He was glad they would get along, but he had a feeling more than that would be occurring.

o0O0o

The rest of the week Rat started to set up greenhouses. He felt it was necessary, with the influx of people, and he was having fun building them in unusual places that people wouldn't find on accident. He had one in the side of a building, in the hidden attic space of an old library, scattered in warehouses and under the sidewalks. He had high nutrition dirt and artificial sunlight.

He didn’t have a manager though.

Rat was a busy man and he had Mid and Derapchu to look after the church. These greenhouses didn’t have a primary manager and he didn’t want to hand responsibility to his two already overworked subordinates.

Derapchu would probably make a comment about hard work, but Mid didn’t deserve that type of suffering.

Rat decided to ask her what she thought.

"You want a manager?" she asked as she idly washed her clothes in the small stream. Rat shrugged.

"Yeah, or like a gardener I guess." He had his clothes hanging up, cleaned with the homemade detergent he thought he had perfected the recipe of.

"Hannah," Mid said, and she turned to him with a smile. "Commission Hannah Rose." Rat cocked his head. "She's brilliant, a fighter and a talker, not affiliated with anyone right now." Rat nodded.

"Sure." And Rat found her, tucked away in a bar close to Casino District on the skirts of Spawn. She wasn’t drinking, just sat taking in the people and atmosphere with vague distaste. She took little convincing once she knew who he was and what he was capable of. She leapt at the opportunity.

"You can make things grow here?" Her voice was a harsh whisper once they were on the rooftops and away from eavesdropping strangers. Rat nodded. "Great. When can I start?" she asked, and Rat smiled.

"Let's head to one of the greenhouses and see," he told her, and together they made their way to the closest greenhouse, one that was actually put in a small loft space over the fighting pit itself. You could hear muffled voices below, but Rat ignored them, the artificial sun making the room comforting. Hannah gasped.

"I have onion bulbs if you know how to plant them," Rat offered, pulling some heads out of his satchel bag he had slung over his shoulder.

Hannah grabbed the precious plants and looked at them in awe. "I know how to grow onions," she told him with a wicked smile, and Rat nodded. She began going over the dirt, her hands running through the soil.

"And it's able to grow plants," she breathed, as if the earth itself was a miracle in a place like this. It was.

"I've missed this," she told Rat, or maybe she was telling the soil. "I miss the roses." Rat watched her curiously.

"How did you end up here?" he asked. The question really just slipped out. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to," he corrected quickly, but Hannah just smiled at him.

"It's not that interesting," she told him sadly. "I just pissed off some big wigs." She shrugged. "They didn't like how well I was doing in the fighting circuits, you know." She ran her fingers through the soil again.

"Well that's stupid," Rat said, and she laughed.

"I guess you're right," she told him, but Rat looked at this brilliant young woman and felt a beat of rage rear its head in his chest. She didn't deserve this. None of them did really. Rat hated the city and the fuckers who ran it. He hated the fact that the people here most often did nothing wrong and were still forced to suffer the horrors of it. He hated the fact it was designed to kill them slowly, like torture. He hated it.

Rat needed to get a handle on his rage. It served no one and just made him erratic, but fuck did he want to scream, to shout, to break things.

He looked at Hannah and realised the vines on her arms were not just tattoos. They were a trait of her heritage. Hannah Rose—a rather obvious name—and she missed the roses. Rat didn’t have a coding window up, but he could coax his creations along with a little concentration and quiet, measured breaths. He had been filled with so much anger, better put the emotional energy to good use.

Flowers bloomed from Hannah, rapidly expanding up her arms, and she gasped lightly.

"Wow," she sighed, looking at the blooming patterns. She looked at Rat, who sighed a little too heavily and gave the game away. Her smile grew ever larger.

"Thank you," she sighed, and Rat couldn’t help but smile.

Notes:

Hello internet, happy Pride Month :) Remember you are the driving force of your life, that you should stand up for yourself, that you should serve your neighbour.

I am not a religious person but I have followed Pagan and Jewish practice for most of my life in one way or another.

You are a cog in the machine but remember if you break any part of a system the whole thing grinds to a halt.

I'm proud of you.

Chapter 8

Rat held a meeting with Zam and Mapicc. He felt it was fair to make everyone feel like they were heard. It was also a little funny to have the clearly exes share dinner, awkwardly beating around each other without overt hostility.

They were having cauliflower cheese because the cauliflower crop had come in and Rat was excited to try and make something with it. Both Zam and Mapicc had been suspicious but ultimately welcoming towards the dish.

They were there to discuss the greenhouses and Rat's recruitment of Hannah Rose. Both men had actually heard of her, a formidable force who was known for never joining a crew. They were impressed at his recruitment and Rat boastfully told them Mid had in fact recommended her.

It was pretty normal. Zam was extremely chatty as always, Mapicc a little more standoffish, but he was fine enough. The awkward tension between the two of them was slowly melting away and they ate the food Rat gave them happily.

In fact, their little meal and deal was coming to an end when Mapicc pulled a face as if he were constipated.

"What?" Zam snorted, looking at him. Rat cocked his head curiously.

Mapicc grimaced. "Are you a god?" he asked, and Rat's expression filled with confusion even as Zam's cleared.

"What?" he asked, and Mapicc sat back.

"Are you a god?" he asked again, and Rat hadn't heard wrong the first time. He shrugged.

What was he supposed to say to that? "Yeah, sure, if that's what you want," he said awkwardly. Mapicc eyed him and he continued, "Some have seen me that way."

Zam frowned. "That means yes," he informed Mapicc, and Rat didn’t despair.

o0O0o

Rat was going through the preparations for winter. It was tedious work, but it needed to be done, especially with the influx of people. He had had more than enough for just three of them, but now they had the greenhouses to manage and armies of people to feed and medicate. He needed to be careful.

He was also trying to balance the books for any unexpected additions to the crew. He wasn't sure, but he felt like he might be needing more.

He was actually taking up space in the Peacekeepers complex. It was closer to the city and easy access to his men if he was needed to murder someone, so it wasn't unexpected when Woogie appeared.

He slunk out of the shadows, head down, obviously not trying to intrude. It wasn’t urgent. Rat continued working, letting him come to Rat.

Honestly, he didn’t know much about Woogie. He was part of Zam's crew, so Rat was obligated to protect him, but realistically Rat only knew he was a polar bear, wasn’t great at fighting, and was apparently an excellent builder. Poafa had said so once, and that was a curious bit of information at least.

"Hey boss," Woogie spoke up. For the first time, Rat looked up at him with a smile. "Is it true? What they’re saying about you and Ashswag?" Rat frowned and cocked his head in question. "You think he's hot," Woogie elaborated awkwardly.

Rat frowned. He didn’t really remember telling anyone exactly, but it may have come up in conversation casually with Derapch or Mid or even Zam. Maybe he hadn’t said anything, but it wasn’t harmful to... "Yeah?"

His answer sounded more like a question, but from Woogie, his nose scrunched up, it was obvious that was not the correct answer. "You—" he began, cutting himself off for a second. "You don’t think he’s better than boss, do you?" Rat’s frown deepened. Boss must be referring to Zam—no one else was really Woogie’s boss after all. And why did he care?

"Beauty is objective," he settled on. It was a safe answer, after all. But from the way that Woogie's expression did not ease, he decided to add, "Zam is pretty?" Realistically he was not Rat’s type, but then neither was Ash. Woogie’s expression didn’t ease up, but it seemed less panicked.

"But you don’t want anything with him you don’t have with us?" he asked, and Rat’s own tension eased. He smiled amicably.

"Woogie, he’s not the business leader," he dismissed easily. "I want less with him than I do with you guys." Woogie smiled. His shoulders relaxed.

"So Ash’s just hot?" he clarified. Rat smiled.

"Ash is just hot."

o0O0o

Rat received a letter, which was odd because he didn’t have an address. The letter was, in fact, delivered to Zam and made its way to him rather swiftly, if indirectly. The letter was from Red, the leader of the business district—the only member he actually cared about at this point.

But it was getting close to winter. Rat had a lot to do, a meeting would cut into his limited time, and if it failed he had no reason to lose sleep over a business venture. But if Red's people needed food and medicine over winter...

Rat was not a bleeding heart, he was practical. A happy army was a loyal army, and an unhappy enemy, a starving, sickly one, was a vengeful force.

Rat had an ultimatum, and he decided to take out his immediate issues.

So he went from Poafa, who had delivered the letter neatly folded, and looked for Mapicc. He didn’t want to interrogate the poor Peacekeepers, but Mapicc's demon crew were fair game, especially the devil himself.

Rat busted through his window—thankfully it had been left open after he smashed it a week or so ago. He still had scratches on his arms. Inside, he found Mapicc and a stranger in a rather compromising position.

At first Rat thought it was a fight and was preparing to come to his defence, but quickly he realised something else was happening. Mapicc was pinned against the door, partially hidden behind a taller creature, snowy white and hooded. He was taller than Mapicc but beyond that Rat couldn’t make much out—back turned and hood up.

"Am I interrupting something?" Rat interrupted shamelessly, and both parties separated so fast Rat may assume he had found them in an intimate moment.

"How did you get in here?" the stranger—and no, that wasn’t a stranger, that was Ro—Roshambo, the weird right hand not quite of Mapicc's army. And of course this made sense.

Rat hand-waved his question and turned to Mapicc. "We weren’t doing anything, I swear!" Mapicc tried to defend, as Ro began talking. "He was innocent, I started it, blame me," and Rat wrinkled his nose. These PEOPLE needed to get more interesting hobbies than killing each other for random meaningless slights.

"Chill, you two chill," he ordered, and both fell silent, glancing to each other. "I don’t care if you’re gay," he told them matter-of-fact. "Free love and all that," he continued. "I came to ask—" he turned to Mapicc, ignoring Ro, "can you tell me where Red is?"

Mapicc, red in the face, agreed and offered to show Rat. Roshambo, smiling subtly, tagged along. Rat was quite enjoying their little lovers’ spat as they meandered their way across rooftops. Rat knew Red was the type to not do all his business in that nondescript building, and his intuition was rewarded as instead of the stout building with dull lights and long hallways, he was brought to a large rickety thing that was balanced more on belief than real physics.

Rat rather pointedly descended down to the front door, letter in hand. He looked to Ro and Mapicc, "Alright, thank you two," he dismissed. Mapicc looked a little hesitant, so Rat laid it on thick. He looked Ro dead in the eye and ordered, "Be careful to use protection."

Both of them went scarlet this time—well, Ro was a little more purple—and Rat turned primly to knock on the front door and let himself in.

He was greeted with long winding empty corridors.

Rat walked around aimlessly. No one was in the building, but he had a feeling that was purposeful—or maybe Mapicc got it wrong... he didn’t really know what was more likely. Red seemed smart enough to manipulate Rat effectively. He was here, after all.

There was an open door at the end of the second-floor right corridor. Rat had checked the left one—most doors were locked and that which was not was filled with junk.

The building was a lot larger on the inside and he wondered if that was also part of the magic belief keeping the stupid building up.

The door at the end of the corridor was cleaner than the walls around it, as if it had been installed—a nice new door in a rotting corpse of a building. Rat found the analogy fit Red too as he walked up and through the door,

a shiny pearl on a rotting island filled with destruction.

Rat walked through the open door, seeing it as an invitation. Behind the desk at the back centre of the room sat Red, the man Rat had encountered a few times before. He was alone for the first time though, and Rat found that to be odd.

"Rat," he greeted, his sleazy businessman smile gracing his face, spreading his features wide. Rat nodded in greeting. "So kind for you to come so quickly," he continued, and Rat nodded again, skirting around the office as if it were filled with bombs—maybe it was. The people of the city were just about crazy enough to do that.

"Not one for small talk?" he asked, and Rat suppressed rolling his eyes.

"Cut to the business," he ordered Red curtly, and the businessman put his hands up in surrender.

"Yes sir," he responded cheerily, and it wasn’t bad but it wasn’t good. Rat wrinkled his nose. "I wanted to ask," he began, dramatically pausing. Rat waited. "Whether you are trying to take over?" Rat frowned. "See, I’ve seen a pattern where you infiltrate, exterminate, and then elevate." Rat’s frown deepened. "This is not a bad thing," Red told him, and for the first time he spoke.

"Control is a strong word," he began, and Red sat back now watching him. "Allyship or ownership, it doesn't matter." Red's face, smooth as it was, contorted slightly—he was processing Rat's words. "I'll do what’s easiest," he informed him lightly.

Red sat back, stared at Rat. Rat watched him back, curious of his next move, but he wasn’t expecting him to lean across the table, arm out.

"I, Reddoons, leader of the Business District, surrender as a collective to work under you, Rat."

Rat blinked at his outstretched hand and slowly, carefully, leant in and took it. Red's handshake was firm but easy enough to slip out of. He looked Rat in the eye—he was confident. Rat released him as he felt a curiosity seep into his bones.

"That's great," he said, voice light. "Why?" And then it was dark and flat.

Red, ever the composed businessman, sat back smiling. "I've heard what you can do," he said as if it were a conspiracy. Rat didn’t know what he was referring to, so maybe it was.

"You will give my people medicine over winter," he continued. "Protection from the dark," he said sadly, as if that was the biggest threat in the city.
Rat nodded again.

"I make this deal for my people," he tells Rat, and the modder just has to sigh and agree. Whatever makes him happy, he supposes. And whatever brings Rat closer to his goal.

o0O0o

Rat had now gained a very large, rather unpredictable area of territory in an unprecedentedly short space of time. He was trying to count heads that were ever-moving, managing relationships that were endlessly complicated, and balance books that were fit to bursting.

He needed workable greenhouses, a trained set of medically qualified individuals, and a spreadsheeting system so everyone affiliated with him could be registered. This would help when (if) when they get out—but he would never tell anyone.

This all took time, of course, and Rat spent a majority of his jumping around and prepping for any possibility. It was normal to find him hidden in the rafters of buildings, or casually draped over the Peacekeepers' private quarters, or even just laying flat out across Red’s unoccupied desk like some overgrown office cat.

It was actually one of the draped-on-the-desk days that Squiddow managed to catch him. He was stacking papers that people had begrudgingly handed in, confused on why they were suddenly having to document their birthdays in the city with literally no rules, when she came tumbling into the office.

All manic energy and big smile, her eyes were wide and bug-like behind her yellow and orange glasses.

She looked to Rat with hungry eyes and the leader immediately put down his pen and set aside the work he had set out. This was obviously going to take precedent if for no other reason than he was curious.

She sat down on one of Red’s rather dramatic sofa chairs. Rat hadn’t realised but Red had multiple offices—this was one of his better ones with comfortable seating and a bookcase. Squiddo bounced on the worn leather like it was her right, and by all accords it was. Rat was intruding in the office without Red there—at least Squiddo had been around for longer than six months.

"Are you like me?" she asked, comfortable with her legs thrown up against the back, her back on the cushion and looking at Rat backwards and upside down.

Rat frowned. "Any clarification on that?" Was she asking if he was gay?

Squiddo waved a hand. "Me and Ash, glitched ya know?" she raised an eyebrow at him and Rat had to make a regretful expression.

Slowly he shook his head. "Yeah, sorry no." Squiddo’s expression became a little forlorn before perking up.

"Okay fine, but what lets you make them enchanted items? I’ve never seen anything like that." She pointed at his scythe and Rat looked at it too. It glowed against the desk where he had rested it, easily in reach if he was attacked but more casual than keeping it slung across his back.

He had received questions before about it sure, but Rat usually threatened them. Squiddo was not looking for a fight. He could ask her to back down and she would, but he could also just have a little fun.

"Magic," he told her, and her brows furrowed. He hummed as if she was buying his story but her face said otherwise. Rat went back to his papers as Squiddo mulled it over. Eventually though, she sighed.

"You can code," the clever cookie commented—possibly the first person to figure it out... ever. So telling that it was a glitch. Had she tried before? Was she spawned by someone less skilled than him? Rat stared at her, his smile as neutral and kind as ever. He was always ready to lend an ear, after all.

"Is there really a difference?"

o0O0o

Rat was once again sat in an odd location—today it was in the crook of a lamp in the streets themselves. It was getting dark and Rat had decided to stay out for a while just enjoying the Peacekeeper territory. It was odd, the fighting rings had been at war for a while but he had stayed out of their way.

In turn they had been staying out of Rat's way. Or, well, they had been before the familiar red cap of one of Flame's most well-known lackeys came bobbing up to him.

Peentar was rather plain looking—his red hat was the most stand-out feature, the fluffy brown hair and blue eyes dulled by the city's soul-sucking suffering. Rat looked down to him and was surprised by the intensity of his gaze.

"Hello there," he greeted as the little puppet soldier walked closer. He had a determined expression steeled over, but Rat had a feeling there was an intensity of apprehension in his eyes.

"I have a message," he said, forgoing introductions and niceties. Rat frowned and jumped down from his perch, using his scythe to swing and land on his feet—the display both practical and acting as a threat.

Peentar just gritted his teeth a little tighter, pushed out a slip of paper, face set in stone. Rat sceptically took it from him, freezing him in place with a look before unfolding the paper.

No one could get totally clean paper here—scraps from half-finished notebooks and the backs of old files were most people's best bets. But this was obviously not wholly paper. It had a strange texture like leather and if Rat wasn't well-versed he would have assumed it was human skin.

It was not, but the effect was startling.

On the note there was a simple but surprisingly effective threat:

'You'll go down if you don't back down.'

He pondered the words before looking back up, but Peentar was gone. Maybe he wasn't as unsubtle as he first assumed—or maybe... Rat frowned. Peentar may not be the first eldritch he encountered, but the possibility was there. Something about him was just on the right side of odd.

Rat sighed on the street corner, not a soul in sight to judge him. He was a bit tired. He needed to eat soon—he hadn't all day, skipping breakfast and forgetting lunch—but that could wait. He could totally smooth this shit show over. Or else, he could always just kill someone about it.

Rat took to the rooftops, paws not making a sound as he scaled the wall with his scythe still in hand.

The only trouble of his new plan was that he had no idea where Flame was. He knew of a few of his safe houses, though he was not naïve enough to believe he’d found all of them. Rat found random hidey holes all the time, never could tell what was whose apart from the Peacekeepers because they always left stuff there.

Rat wandered the rooftops for a time. If he didn’t walk into him, possibly he would walk into a lackey—he could follow them back to their base and talk to Flame wherever he was. Maybe he was fighting tonight, maybe he was sleeping.

Rat hopped from a low-hanging metal roof to the side of a brick wall to hoist himself onto the significantly taller building that seemed to be a gutted apartment block, complete with no glass and random laundry lines.

Rat threw himself onto the roof only to come eye to boot with a stranger.

“Shit,” a higher voice said—or well, more like yelped—jumping back as Rat elongated on the roof, rapidly coming eye to eye with a stranger.

They were... interesting looking. They wore normal blue denim jeans and a galaxy print hoodie, an uncommon fashion sense for the island where you wanted to blend in. But with pearl white skin and strange clouds for hair and a fucking ring like a planet around their head, maybe that was a lost cause. Rat frowned, remembering Mid talking about an alien creature in the spawn area.

Planet Lord—or well, Planet—with a pair of cloud-like bug antennae and a galaxy print headband to match his hoodie, stared back at Rat with a curious blank expression.

“You must be Planet,” Rat said without thinking. The cloud-soft man's face distorted with confusion, his brows furrowed, their lips thinned. Rat wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he was saved from deciding when a rather abrasive voice piped up.

“And what’s it matter to you?” That must be Bacon Waffles, or just Bacon—the topic of a lot of gossip, the most well-known shit fighter to be recognised in the city. Rat smiled more teeth at him. The piglin did not back down; he rather purposefully stuck himself between Planet and Rat, which—fair.

Whatever Planet was, it was far rarer than a piglin, and with heightened protective instincts, Bacon sticking himself between Planet and an unknown was to be expected.

"I was just passing through looking for Flame or Mane," he said, and the piglin glowered at him, not buying it. Rat decided to up the ante. "I was sent this note," he held it up for the other two to see, "I needed to discuss the meaning of it with the possible senders."

There were a few moments of silence but Rat knew he had won. "Would either of you be able to help?" he prompted, and that was perfect.

Bacon immediately piped up, eyes shrewd but clearly wanting to complain to someone. Planet behind him went to stop him, but making brief eye contact with Rat made them immediately back down, head ducked.

"Mane's been stalking me, like full out," he said as if it was an annoyance and not, well, a full-blown crime. Rat cocked his head. "Yeah he's been stalking me so we decided to stalk them back because..." Bacon trailed off.

"Because that seemed fair," Planet said with a shrug.

"So we've been following them around and Mane doesn't really stick to a schedule," Bacon continued promptly, "like Mondays he might be in warehouse six, it's pretty common, he likes to follow me in the mornings most days apart from sometimes he won't." Bacon was tailing off now, too deep in thought. Planet watched him then locked eyes with Rat.

"I will tell you where Flame is right now if you give me a protein bar," he said, and Rat twitched a brow—odd request, but well, he had one on his person for emergencies.

"Sure." He handed over the bar and Planet gave a series of instructions. Meanwhile, Bacon was still talking.

"Last Thursday he asked me to go to dinner with him, he probably poisoned the food or something so I'm not gonna go but he looked really sad so I might offer an alternative plan."

"Alright, thanks for the info," Rat cut him off, and fuck he was worse than Zam or any of his many suitors. Bacon stared at him, furrowed brow, but Planet was happily crunching on a honey oat bar Rat had made from an oat shipment and some honey he was slowly trying to collect from the few bees he was trying so hard to cultivate in the church.

He jumped down and scuttled away, ready to go confront the king of the fighting rings himself.

Rat slipped in through an upstairs window and was mildly surprised to see Flame in his night clothes—or, well, comfortable clothes. He was wearing soft jogging bottoms and a white vest. He was mindlessly sharpening a sword, a book propped up in front of him. He looked a strange mix of deadly and comfortable.

Rat was almost sad to ruin his peace. Almost.

He didn’t draw attention to himself yet though because Rat needed to survey the room and was not shocked to find out Mane was also there, he was curled up in a small heap on the floor, his thin tail draped over his nose and his eyes closed. He looked peaceful and that was strange for such a vicious guy.

Rat needed to bite the bullet on this one soon or else they would notice him, element of surprise.

"Hello there, I received the letter," he said and Flame flipped the sword over and was pointing at Rat in a nanosecond.

Rat delicately pushed the weapon down but was refused as the demon glowered at him. "How did you find me?" His voice was deadly serious so Rat decided not to play around. He smiled awkwardly.

"Not important, why did you send me this note?" He held up the paper. Flame, ever serious, stared for a while but when Rat made no moves to attack he reached out and snatched it, unfolding it to read. Rat made eye contact with Mane.

He was sat in the corner watching. Rat wasn’t sure when he woke up but he knew Mane knew where he got their location. There was a certain sparkle in his eye and Rat wasn’t sure if it was good or bad.

"I didn’t write this. Wemmbu did," Flame declared, throwing the human skin-adjacent paper back at Rat. He caught it with a raised eyebrow. "But seriously, who told you I was here?" he was asking and his expression spelled nothing good.

Rat pursed his lips. "Confidential," he wagered as he was not going to snitch. Mane knew, but that was already too many people.

"It’s a lame threat, I would never say something so foul," Flame said with his full chest, "and I will find out who snitched," he threatened. Rat just pursed his lips and nodded. Of course, anything he wants...

He left swiftly after that.

Notes:

Sorry this is so late, my life is a storm right now. I worked 16 hours yesterday then an extra 2 to drive everyone home so i have been whiped today and in a lot of pain. I'm 19 my back pain should not be this bad >:(

anyway hope this is good enough, I didn't proof read as much as i'd like

Chapter 9

Rat, after the entire debacle with Wemmbu's threatening note, had a tenuous relationship at best with Flame and Mane, mostly held up by mutually assured destruction as well as a somewhat common enemy.

All it boiled down to was that Flame wouldn’t attack him and his people, that did not stop his entourage from having a good go of it though. Rat sighed heavily as once again the almost daily activity of cleaning up border disputes fell on his overworked shoulders.

Rat had signed up for this. He was going to clean up the city and get the people out but the day to day was still a drag. There was a disturbance on the west side near the peacekeepers complex. Rat wasn’t sure if the people involved were the peacekeepers but it was best to at least try to assist his men in the main goal.

He jumped to the roof only to see a disturbing sight.

Three much larger older men were leaning down at a smaller, more agile build—that was... Planet. Planet Lord, a member of the little trio that seemed to control the fighting rings at the moment.

Planet alone was a rare sight in itself and right now he was outnumbered and going to get killed. He was not a strong player, not to Rat’s knowledge at least. Rat could not let him die; it would piss off far too many people and might just start a turf war.

Why were Flame’s men killing Planet Lord?

He was preparing to drop down and kill the fuckers who thought it would be a good idea to start a turf war when out of the shadows the other two appeared. Bacon was first—a weak fighter but a perfectly tactical mind as so many said. He rushed from the darkness and cleanly removed the biggest one's head from his too thick neck. He had to reach up to loop the garrote over his sholders but he did it so cleanly it didn’t even register for a split second.

The other two were focused on Planet but with the sudden disruption by Bacon, Planet was able to dive to one side and punch the fucker in the balls. He doubled over and with an animalic grin born from years of the city streets and an innate crazy all survivors must have, Planet went for the throat.

Mouth wide and teeth too sharp to ever pass as human, he ripped at soft skin and drew blood like a wild dog. Bacon beside him moved to the last guy and engaged in a hand-to-hand fight. Here he was now unable to beat him in a fair fight but Bacon famously didn’t fight fair.

Rat was surprised when a small explosion went off and the lackey startled. Bacon got the upper hand, Planet left the mangled corpse behind already dissolving to respawn to watch as Bacon broke his adversary’s neck in a fair movement.

"Three more!" Planet cheered and Bacon huffed.

"That makes our overall total?" he asked, trying to brush blood off even as his face was covered in the splatter from the first attack.

Planet paused for a second thinking. "Eight for me and you, nine for J," he concluded with a grin.

They both got up to leave and in a split second Rat decided he would follow them, see where they were headed.

They returned to a discreet warehouse. Rat found it wholly unprotected for guarding some of the most pivotal players on the street, at the moment, it was drafty even. He hoisted his light body onto the roof and suppressed a wince when it began to tremble minutely. No sound was made thank God, but Rat treaded carefully up to a window looking down on the factory floor.

The city had a disproportionate amount of factories and warehouses compared to population. Rat could only assume it had been a factory town before expanding to city status. In any case, there were so many and most housed secrets. This one just so happened to be where the trio set up shop.

He peeked through the high window and just below him the three were talking. It was a divided factory floor, obviously false walls propped up to give the space some legitimacy, though Rat could still see down.

They were huddled in a lichen sleeping area with a fireplace for warmth.

It must be cold in winter after all.

Bacon and Planet were talking at normal volumes so Rat couldn’t quite make out their words but occasionally Planet would wave their arms excitedly and Bacon would nod along. They must be retelling the fight.

Jaron just stood back and nodded.

After several minutes when they had finished, Jaron stood up from where he had been slouched against the wall.

He looked up, not exactly where Rat was but close enough, and he smiled—an angry thing born from bitter realities. "Fucking hate rats," he said and his voice carried. Rat knew he had been found out so he made the decision to at least control his entrance.

Dramatically Rat hooked the blade of his scythe on the window sill and flung himself over the edge. He still hung down from above the three men below him with a wicked grin adorning his face.

“Well that’s not very nice!” he called and both Planet and Bacon started but Jaron just rolled his eyes.

“Come down here and talk face to face,” Jaron ordered Rat, not entirely trusting, dithered side to side. “We're not going to do anything, it just means I won’t have to shout,” he added and Rat sighed and came sailing down rather gracefully really.

Planet and Bacon backed up a little as he came rappidly down to land on the stone floor with light feet. Thankfully he didn’t collapse and make himself look like an idiot but Jaron stayed where he stood unimpressed and Rat found that kind of great too.

“So...” Rat began looking at the three of them. Planet was looking at Bacon who was looking at Jaron who was looking at Rat. It seemed the chain of command had broken down some and the three were lost or well the other two were, Jaron seemed done, tired and sick. “Why aren’t we attacking me?” Rat asked on Bacon’s behalf.

No one answered. They shared glances between them and eventually Rat decided they weren’t going to answer. “Okay sure, why are you getting into fights in alleyways?” Because really they were a linchpin in a cold war if any of them died but especially Bacon.

“We were getting attacked so we decided–” Planet began but Bacon cut him off by grabbing him quite harshly and covering his mouth, a wild look in his eyes. He glanced to Jaron who was halfway to his weapon which seemed to be a simple hand crossbow.

“Okay,” Rat said, “that’ll be a not telling I suppose?” He asked and all three looked at one another. Yet again no answer was given. Rat was getting annoyed. How were these the most influential people in the war for spawn? They seemed like a trio of suicidal idiots.

A plan began to form in Rat’s head, a little evil thing. “How about this...” he began, subtly reaching for his scythe. “If you don’t tell me–” he crossed the room, separated Bacon from Planet, spun the piglin hybrid out of the way and pushed his scythe to his throat. “I kidnap Bacon.” It was not a bluff, he wouldn’t kill the poor sod but that was for the betterment of the city. He sure as shit would tie him up so he would be safe.

“Whoa—whoa—” Jaron pushed his hands out. “He’s low on lives.” Not entirely untrue. What had Planet said earlier? Eight lives?

“And that’s why I’d be taking him,” Rat supplied primly and Planet flared up. Bacon, bless him, was struggling uselessly against Rat’s hold. He adjusted to force his shoulders down and his back to hunch far more uncomfortable. Rat could knock him out easily from this angle.

"Okay, okay," Jaron waved his hands, trying to deescalate. Planet wrinkled his nose.

"What do you even want to know? Why we're being targets?" he guessed and Rat jerked his head to indicate he was correct.

Planet frowned at the floor. "I guess it's because Wemmbu wants us dead," he supplied thoughtfully.

"Wemmbu wants to start a war," Jaron told Rat, his eyes on Bacon. "So he's going after us."

"It's not that bad though!" Planet cheered. "Free hearts," he said with a smile.

Bacon groaned. Rat sighed. Well, that was his answer. Really, he should have realised. "He paying Flame's men off?" he asked and Jaron shrugged.

"Maybe threatening them, who knows."

Rat let Bacon go. The Piglin stumbled away and took the side of his teammates. Rat smiled.

"Until next time!" he saluted and as quickly as he came, he started out the room and up the wall and out the open window.

o0O0o

Rat was roaming around. It was his break time and he was going to spend it on the rooftops of Demon Downtown. He had had a meeting with Hannah and Mid earlier. The greenhouses were doing great. They had employed more people to manage them but overall a great investment. The fruits were being rolled out, people were being fed, the army was happy.

Rat was happy.

He came across a duo on a rooftop through Mapicc who was off surveying the city with a wholly brooding, dark, gloomy expression and Chief, a strange angel hybrid whose wings were tattered and skin was grey, legs dangling over the edge, chowing down on a sandwich like it was the only and most important thing in the world. Rat approached curious.

Chief waved upon seeing him before gesturing at his brooding boss. "I think he could use a chat," he said casually and Rat nodded but he wanted to at least talk with Chief, give Mapicc time to prepare his rant.

"Good sandwich?" he asked easily. There was nothing to lean on the roof but Rat comfortably swayed in place. The pockets he had asked Mid to sew into his dress were ample for tucking his hands away and looking non-threatening.

"It's kinda mid," he sighed but continued to chow down like his life depended on it. "But the tomato isn't rotten which is nice," he grinned up at Rat.

The weak sunlight caught his eyes in a way that made them reflect the stars. Rat was mesmerised for a second, forgetting how magical some players could be naturally. He wanted to dig into his code. Chief was not unfamiliar with mods, his aura just had something about it...

"I'm glad you set up the greenhouses," he told Rat with that sunset smile. "We can have good sandwiches again."

Wordlessly, Rat nodded. He wasn't sure his mouth wouldn't betray him. Slowly he slunk away towards Mapicc who would at least do most of the talking.

"I had to save BACON!" Mapicc exclaimed, waving his arms around not even looking at Rat. "I had to stop some lunatic suicidal thug from killing him." Rat recalled a death message appearing from Mapicc that morning and stared at the man.

"I haven't had to save his ass in forever and now someone is trying to kill him in broad daylight," he gestured at the dull sky and finally turned to Rat, his face filled with anger and what Rat knew must be fear.

He was going to ask what happened but really Rat knew. Someone else Wemmbu sent had gotten closer than was comfortable. A war was breaking out under the surface. "What do you think of the fighting rings breakdown?" he asked and Mapicc's face soured further.

"Wemmbu can't beat the Blindfold Brothers," he dismissed but Rat stayed quiet. It was clear he had something else he wanted to say and just needed a moment to get to it. Eventually, he sighed heavily.

"Wemmbu can't win in a head-to-head fight with them," he refrained a moment. "But he could if he pits them against each other." Rat hummed. Mapicc stared at him long and hard. "He knows that too."

Rat nodded. A plan was forming in his mind, one no one would be a big fan of.

Rat decided he needed the stupid suicidal trio somewhere he could keep them safe.

o0O0o

Rat had a plan to kidnap the Three Heart Trio, he learned their name was colloquial, which was funny because they had more than three hearts. He had his crew, or well his coconspirators really, Zam and Jepex—not the most powerful duo but to just subdue the trio and not kill them it was necessary.

"What are we doing?" Jepex asked as he tried to keep up behind Zam on the rooftops. Rat was taking them around the safe route hidden in shadows as well as more stable rooftops. He would retrace his steps back.

"Kidnapping," Zam answered for him. The peacekeepers’ leader had been a hard sell at first but after hearing the brewing war and the danger these three posed he had been all for keeping the peace even if it included unlawful imprisonment.

They went to the trio's warehouse. Rat knew they were staying in half because the attacks were ramping up and half because he had left enough food to last them a while. Call it manipulation; Rat wanted them in a specific place and the best way was simple social engineering.

They did not go through the window. Rat had decided he would rather just go in and knock them out. Quick, clean, and with less opportunities to kill anyone, as it was his plan it went off, at first, rather smoothly.

Upon entering he immediately encountered Planet, the alien-like creature, startling upon seeing them and not being given time to recover, went down when Rat cleanly hit his temple. Jepex winced as he collapsed but Rat just moved on behind him. Zam and Jepex silently debated and eventually Jepex won or lost, Rat didn’t know. All he did was scoop the unconscious man and follow.

The next room was the kitchen space. Both Jaron and Bacon were inside. They turned around and Jaron went for his crossbow. Like a whippet, Rat darted out. The first blow didn’t do enough damage as he managed to swing his bow out and fire off a shot wildly. Rat went for his temple and with a steady hand rendered him unconscious on the floor.

Bacon backed up, his garrot in hand, eyes flicking between Zam and Rat.

"You overconfident bastard dog!" His eyes settled on Zam, his mouth filled with barbs. "You gonna betray me again, you heartless good-for-nothing monster?" Rat cocked a brow. How many exes could a man have?

"I owe you nothing," Zam spat vitriol back, his hackles on end, his eyes filled with fire. Bacon and Zam were gearing up for a god-tear screaming-match. Too bad Rat needed this to be quick.

He darted out and with a neat sweep and blow knocked the man unconscious on the floor. Zam stood there slack-jawed for a second and Rat sighed. "I’ll get Jaron," he decided, letting Zam deal with the emotional baggage and all that.

Jepex stood in the doorway carrying the unconscious Planet like a small child pressed against his chest. He looked at Rat and Zam with curiosity. "We out?" he asked and Rat nodded.

They headed across rooftops, Rat had Jaron slung over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes, Zam was carrying Bacon bridle style while decidedly not making eye contact with anyone, Rat studiously followed his lead.

They didn’t meet another soul. At one point Jepex whined about how annoying Planet was to carry and Zam offered rather desperately to sway. Immediately Jepex changed his tune, smiling wickedly and prolonging Zam’s suffering. Rat snorted under his breath.

They made their way across the city past the castle and into the woods. These days the castle was never quiet, no matter what time of day; the factions inside seemed to be at war. Rat had no idea why they so desperately wanted to control the old stone shit box but to them it seemed of fervent importance.

He had both Jepex and Zam drop their respective victims off, then Rat had them simply bound in rope cuffs and left in a small hollow of moss. Mid was with him at that point and Zam assured Rat he would at least lead Jepex back to the city. He was cruel but he wouldn’t snub Mapicc like that. How many exes can a man really have?

A few hours later Rat was whittling wood for no other reason than to kill time when a soft gasp came from across the room. He looked to see Planet staring straight at him. “You didn’t kill us!” he sounded happy and a little confused. Rat stood up, leaving his carving tools behind.

Curiously, Derapchu and Mid poked their heads out of their respective hidey-holes but neither made any move to approach, letting Rat have the full attention of their guests.

“Well, that would be stupid wouldn’t it?” Rat said and Planet smiled at him bemusedly.

“You’d gain three lives,” he said cheerfully and Rat shook his head.

“But it would start a war,” he told him and Planet’s smile bloomed.

“Even more hearts,” he said excitedly as if he was not talking about his own death. Rat glanced at Mid confused but she looked just as perplexed. He looked back only to find the calculating gaze of Jaron.

“Hello again,” Rat greeted waving slightly. Jaron looked decidedly unimpressed.

On his other side Bacon wriggled. “What the fuck,” he said, staring against the rope cuffs. They were well tied though and behind his back so he couldn’t gnaw on them. Similar cuffs were made up on each of their legs rendering them completely immobile.

Bacon glowered, eyes filled with spiteful rage, and Rat was glad he hadn’t dated him because hell only knows what looks he would receive in this circumstance.

"Yes, well," Rat said awkwardly, "apologies for kidnapping you," he added with not much else to say.

Bacon’s eyes narrowed and his pig nose wrinkled. "Not forgiven," he said bitterly. Rat smiled.

"I don’t care," he quipped easily.

Planet laughed at his wit and shrugged when Rat glanced to him. "This is par for the course really," he confessed, and Rat shook his head. Really? Was it really?

"Sorry," he said more sincerely than he first intended. Bacon’s expression grew somehow more angry.

"You literally kidnapped us!" he yelled but Rat ignored him. Jaron watched the exchange with tired eyes then looked Rat directly in his.

"Can you untie me?" he asked politely and Rat winced.

A little guiltily he shook his head. "Yeah, sorry, no." He gestured at the church. "This is gonna keep you safe." All three looked around the room in awe, the usual reaction to such a lush place, the artificial sunshine warming them as they sat on the stone floor.

"The fighting rings rely on you," he continued, and everyone but Planet returned to watching him.

Each man had a different reaction. Jaron was thoughtful and Bacon, Bacon was embarrassed? Okay, move over Zam, a new fighter has entered the ring. "Mane is already losing it, don’t worry," he said with a toothy smile. He had received word from Mid: Mane was going wild in the fighting rings looking for Bacon who seemingly had upped and vanished.

No one wanted to get in his way as he raged across the district.

Bacon predictably went bright red, his ears ducking down on the side of his head. Jaron didn’t react but Planet watched with a smug little smile.

"So," Rat clapped his hands together, the soft paws making a muffled thump. "You three are gonna be stuck here till it blows over or blows up," he smiled rather primly. "You can play nice or I chain you up." He unsubtly threatened. All three eyed him with apprehension upon that, but then he was rudely interrupted by a goading voice.

"Kinky!" Derapchu yelled from his spot in a branch and Bacon groaned loudly.

"Why the fuck is he here?" he exclaimed at the same time Rat yelled

"Fuck off Derapchu!"

Rat turned back to the three and Jaron carefully measuring all the possibilities sighed heavily, "I guess we're going to be staying here," he agreed reluctantly, agree may not be the correct term more like accepted.

Rat smiled, all his needle-sharp teeth on display. They didn’t really get a choice after all.

Notes:

Happy solstice! or well it's tommorow but close enough <3 hope you have a wonderful day!

I'm posting on time from my partners house, I'm getting up at 4 am to watch teh sunrise then spending the afternoon with 50 of his relatives, so wish me luck <3

Chapter 10

Rat was working in one of the many Demon downtown bases. This one was a wide open plaza space which traders were often seen taking up space. Rat had been watching them from high up, dreading the social call he needed to make to a small business that was run by a rather timid raccoon hybrid. He was not bad, Rat just felt bad enforcing anything on him because of his big sad eyes.

Rat had a feeling the other shop sellers could tell and were going to use that act against him if he wasn’t careful.

He was so lost in thought he almost missed the lithe form of a glitching figure slip through his ever-familiar shadows, but Ash, sometimes known as Ashswagg, was far more obvious with his ever-present purple glitches.

Rat swung down ready to address his subject under Redd’s orders. He had not forgotten the debacle where everyone was saying he thought Ash was hot but Rat was far too professional for anything.

"Hey," Ash waved casually, not even starting as Rat materialised out of the shadows. He grinned brightly.

"Hello Ash," he did not show any discomfort. "What has you this far from home?" His question was friendly in nature but the way Ash's eyes raked his body he suddenly knew exactly what was going on.

"Oh just looking at the scenery," he said, and his voice was darker than normal. Rat smiled at him, not reacting at all even as his insides curled. Professional was the name of this game and this was Redd's boyfriend.

"Can I do anything for you?" Ash asked, leaning into Rat's space, obviously insinuating, but Rat was crafty and he had a very attractive, very friendly person offering to do tasks for him. Even if he intended of a certain nature, Rat was perfectly able to twist people's words.

The hot one can do all the people things Rat didn’t want to!

"Oh sure, I needed to visit Kantje," he asked, and by the confused expression Ash pulled he had managed a fast one. "He needs to file shop merchant paperwork and I know he doesn’t want to disclose his status," Rat rolled his hand, "but I need this all to be fair."

Ash now looked bemused. He nodded along with Rat's spiel.

That afternoon Rat was once again free to manage some business. He had the paperwork and he had people filing everything like the hub Rat needed. IPs and tag names and unique IDs, everything needed to be perfectly integrated so when he liberated these people he could move on to regular server society with less damage than he already planned to bring.

Ash appeared by his side in the evening. Rat had relocated to a roof, he needed to have a meeting with Mapicc and Zam tomorrow where they would quite probably fight and definitely flirt. Rat sighed as Ash descended, his figure slightly less noticeable in the darkness but his missing eye emitted its own digital glow. It was like an old 3DS, dim and inviting.

He sat down beside Rat, they didn’t exchange words for a few long moments.

"Why didn't you ask to fuck me?" he asked bluntly, shattering the serenity. Rat looked to him, face filled with bemused confusion as he tried to figure Ash out, but the man was either an open book, carefree and uncaring, or he was a perfect poker face. Maybe it was a mix. Rat shook his head.

"What?" he asked with an exhale. Ash stayed quiet though, watched him, prompted him to continue, and Rat knew that trick and yet he was still going to fall for it. "I don't need sex, I need skilled people."

Ash hummed, his face unconvinced as he shuffled down so his legs could dangle over the edge of the building. "You called me hot," he told Rat, his voice void of any real emotion, and that was a poker face if Rat knew one. He sighed, also shuffling so his legs would dangle.

People flitted across the city streets down below, all wrapped up in their own lives, their own survival, even though the politics of the entire city were playing out just above their heads.

"And that's an objective fact," Rat told him casually. Ash went a little rigid, but Rat didn’t really care. He was blunt with most things.

They lapsed into silence for a bit. "It was Red’s idea," Ash broke it once more. Now Rat was interested. Sent his own boyfriend to get done by another man? Interesting...

"Why?" he asked, not sure he'd like the answer but feeling he might have to know. Ash snorted a light laugh.

"He's feeling neglected." Rat frowned.

"What?" he asked, confused as shit.

Ash laughed at him, or maybe his boyfriend. "Yeah, you know, 'cause you have that whole thing with Zam and Mapicc." He gestured at the city. "He wants to be one of your top allies and, like, he's not been invited to the table."

Rat frowned at him. "Special treatment?" he asked, and Ash continued to laugh.

"Yeah, he wanted to get invited to dinner because you were screwing his boyfriend." Rat sighed heavily. Yeah, dinner with Zam and Mapicc must look very important from an outside perspective, but he really didn’t need to...

"Does anyone here have healthy communication skills?" he asked, and Ash actually spat a real chest laugh at that one.

"No," he told Rat resolutely, and Rat sighed.

Rat vowed to have Red join their weekly leaders' meeting. It wouldn't be fun and he would probably regret it, but at least he would feel included. He should have done that to begin with, but babysitting Zam and Mapicc was enough work. Maybe he would have a co-babysitter now.

"You can invite him along to tomorrow's meeting, I guess," he tells Ash, not letting his internal dialogue go unnoticed. Ash smiled, sharp teeth white in his dim glow. "And tell him to go for more subtle methods next time."

Ash laughed before standing up and slipping away into the night.

o0O0o

Rat dropped in rather suddenly to Cube's workshop. He had heard through the grapevine the wonderful manufactures of the reclusive redstoner but he had never had the pleasure. He was one of Red's men and was fiercely guarded, because really, why wouldn't you?

He was relatively close friends with Spepticle though, and the red slime had told Rat that visiting him was always an interesting experience.

Rat had a few hours to kill and burning curiosity to satiate, so he slipped down one dark alleyway into a forgotten apartment building, down into a basement through a fake wall and behind a bookshelf. It was all rather elaborate, but he supposed that was what kept the weak alive in the city.

MrCube was building, head halfway into a strange mechanical monster of pistons and hoppers and too little redstone, that when Rat lightly called "hello there" he stumbled, pinwheeled his arms and came toppling down. It was a solid six foot drop and he was headed straight to an open toolbox filled with all manner of probably very dangerous tools.

Rat darted out with unmatched speed. He reached his arms out and caught the falling geometric fuckhead and pulled him up by the scruff of his shirt. As Rat did so, he pushed the box aside and rather gently lowered MrCube to the ground.

His strange blocky head reminded Rat so much of Eight he lost his ability to speak, just staring at the stranger that looked like his friend.

"Hi," Cube said after a prolonged silence. He sounded embarrassed and confused. Rat guessed he didn’t get many unannounced visitors or visitors in general.

"Hi," Rat said, struggling to find his voice. "I'm, uh... Rat," he introduced himself lamely. Cube blinked at him, face scrunched as if he thought Rat was stupid.

"Yeah, I know..." he gestured vaguely. "You're my boss man."

Rat pursed his lips. Yeah... that was a bit silly. But whatever. "Yeah I am," he decided to act confident. "And I needed to talk to you..." Cube sat up. He had been lying on the floor where Rat had dropped him, but at least now he was getting up.

"Yeah okay, we're talking business." He looked to Rat, his eyes—strange spots on his cuboid geometric face—were focused.

"So I know you're involved in the greenhouse production," Rat started, going on something he had heard from Hannah. He may have scouted locations but most of the people he had hired were taking over the greenhouse distribution. Rat just balanced the books and how many they needed.

Cube nodded. "Yeah, they're ready for the winter." He sighed, a little stressed, and added, "Well, as ready as we'll ever be." Rat sighed and offered a hand. Cube took it, and he lifted him back to his feet. No idea why he stayed down, but Rat was willing to give him a hand up. Cube smiled at him. His eyes reflected a world-weary soul, one that had seen far more suffering than its age should pass.

"You know, people say you're a god," Cube told him conversationally. He bent down and hoisted his toolbox up, then shifted back to his project. Rat followed to give the strange amalgamation a closer look.

"Oh really?" he asked as casually as it had been said. And the pistons were in some way attached to a wall mechanism—was the machine a trap or a trick? He stared at it, trying to figure it out. Rat had never been the best at redstone.

"Yeah, but I don’t really like going off rumours." Cube looked Rat over in his tactical dress and scythe slung over a shoulder. The weapon was intimidating, but Rat was already planning on a new one—a trident or a spire, something with more stabbing involved. "So Doctor4t," he said his full tag with some care, "are you some type of deity?"

Rat pondered for a second, chewed his lip with care, stared at the machine, and he knew it was supposed to attach to the shell of the room and turn it all the way around. Why he was building it was of no idea to Rat. "I guess..." he paused, thinking. "I guess I'm as close as this city will get."

And that was a sad thought. He was what this city got, not what it deserved, but the scraps these people were cast were all they had, and Rat was just another scrap—really an offcut from a war tossed to the wolves.

Cube looked at him, and his eyes, strange and alien and painfully familiar like the eyes of a man thousands of servers away, smiled. "'S nice he's around," his voice was so genuine it ripped something in Rat's bone heart raw. "Things have gotten a lot less scary."

Rat stayed quiet as Cube laid out his tools, picked them carefully from his stash and smiled. The sadness was melting from Rat's somber heart. "You know? I feel like we have a plan now," and he looked at Rat like he was a saviour.

Rat couldn’t decide if this was a good thing.

He left.

o0O0o

Rat was just doing his rounds. He was in Demon Downtown, so when Pangi came leaping across the roof, not even trying to move like a human, on all fours and tail streaming behind him, Rat knew shit was bad.

"Rat!" he yelled, voice full of fear. Rat rushed to get back to him.

"What's wrong?" Rat asked. Pangi was heaving.

"Follow!" he asked—more like begged—and Rat just nodded. As quickly as he arrived, Pangi turned and ran, and Rat, seeing the nature of his speed as desperation, didn’t hesitate to duck down as well. Running on all fours was not as familiar as it once may have been, but an innate skill was an innate skill, and they went from Demon Downtown to the border of the Business District and the Peacekeepers’ territory in unprecedented time.

There, a crowd of 10, maybe 15 people, were crowding one of their most ambitious projects—a warehouse converted into a greenhouse. The outside was not as subtle as it could be, but it was not their only food source. That being said, if it got destroyed, that would be a huge blow.

Rat surpassed Pangi immediately and dropped down to street level to face Mane, who was towering over Zam, who was in turn stood back, straight-faced and blank.

"Where is he!" Mane yelled, his chest out and his eyes flickering with rage.

"I told you to wait," Zam said calmly, even as one of the most dangerous people in the city menaced over him.

"What do we have here?" Rat called as casually as he could, trying to negate the exertion on his breath from moving so fast. Mane's head whipped around, his teeth were all on display, he was on a war path and Rat didn’t think he could de-escalate.

"I want Bacon. Give him back," he spat the words with vitriolic rage. Rat thought for a second how bad that could sound—this was like a crazy ex going after their partner—but then he remembered he may have in fact kidnapped Bacon and his team, so...

"I'm not going to do that," he told Mane easily, and Mane flared up somehow worse than before. He looked at Rat with anger that bore action to back it up. Rat was not scared.

"Give him back," he growled menacingly, "or I will burn every single one of your stupid little greenhouses to the ground." The gaggle around him cheered as he threatened and postured, and Rat was wholly unimpressed. He could not win a fight against this man, but he sure as hell could scare him.

Zam stood to the side, eyes frightened but posture relaxed. He was trying to look unimpressed. Pangi had taken a spot on the roof. Rat had asked a few months back if he could stay out of fights so he could grab backup when needed. Rat disliked putting his men in the line of fire.

"If your men do not leave," Rat stood tall and slowly unsheathed his scythe from its spot over his shoulder, "I am going to kill them."

Mane scoffed. "We'll see about that." He did not heed Rat's warning.

The fight was brutal and quick. Rat's weapon was good for crowd control attacks, taking out large groups of people with a quick hit. He swung across a small space and pulled one team into another, ruining their attacks. One man yelled as he embedded his knife into an ally’s eye.

Mane stood back and watched as Rat decimated his team.

Hearts scattered the floor as Rat stood over his carnage, slowly dissolving into that space between life and death, and stared Mane down.

Mane just stared at him, no fear in his eyes—or maybe there was, it was masked by this grieving concern, a worry born for someone else.

"Why did you take him?" His voice was less angry, more... something else. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, and Rat looked him over. A broken man seeking something he didn’t really have a right over—but he meant well...

Was that good enough? Normally no. But here?

"I am protecting Bacon," Rat told him, and anger and hurt filled his eyes.

"I was doing fine," he shot back, and Rat just shook his head.

"No you weren't," Rat told him, and Mane deflated. His shoulders slumped. He was alone in the street, the remnants of a fight scattered around him as he stared at Rat, lost. "If you want to see him again," Rat continued, and he perked up, "you need to act civil."

Mane began to prop himself back up, collecting the broken shards of himself and readying to start fighting again, but it was then Rat's traps went off.

It seemed Pangi had figured out the explosion mechanism. Debris went off in all directions and a death message appeared in chat even as Rat went out and collected the leftover lives. He had been on 20 for a while, being the sole enforcer—he had to kill a lot of people and modding obviously gave him an unfair advantage.

He palmed the hearts off on Zam, who took them with care. Rat pocketed Mane's life; he planned on giving it to Bacon.

This was going to come up again, he could feel it, but he had so much shit to do already. It could go on the back burner. Hopefully...

Mapicc would at least find this funny.

o0O0o

Rat had been doing his usual thing. Zam had needed a handful of goons cleared out of one of his properties. They had taken up shop to 'show him who's boss', so Rat was obliged to demonstrate the truth. He was just wiping the blood off his scyther, the trident he was working on currently on the back burner as he dealt with everything. Winter was just upon them when he heard a voice overhead.

"Huh," an unfamiliar girl's voice echoed down and Rat whipped around. Was that how everyone else felt when he just appeared? Not great... in any case, a stranger with long blue hair and white rabbit ears laid down on the back of her head was watching him with a cheery smile—one you shouldn't wear after watching a slaughter.

"You know, I didn't really get what the big deal was," she told him conversationally, gripping the bar and neatly looping her body so she fell like a shot. She rolled on impact and hopped up with no complications. She smiled at Rat as if they were old friends.

"Nice moves, Rat man," she told him, and Rat felt threatened. He reared back, his scythe already brandished and ready, but the stranger just brushed his aggression off, looked around the edge of the room.

In one corner sat a black-bladed knife, harmless but dangerous, and she scooped it up and handled it like it was an extension of her body. Rat realised she had been slightly lopsided until now. When she smiled at him gripping the blade—

"They took this, thanks for getting it back!" She twirled and held the knife out, making herself a miniature vortex before stopping and turning back to Rat. "Clown will hear about this."

Rat froze. Clown? Like the weirdo Casino District megalomaniac mental breakdown Clown? Shit. And why would she tell him?

"Who are you?" he asked, voice not portraying so much panic but quite clearly he didn’t do a perfect job of it, as the strange blue-haired girl giggled.

"I guess you won’t have heard of me," she started off and Rat pursed his lips. "Don’t worry, I'm Clown's sister." Once again she twirled and the way she held the knife made a lot more sense. "Kaboodle, not at your service!" She emphasised the 'not' with gusto and then leapt into the air. At the same time, she executed a smoke bomb. The room filled with fog and Rat backed up immediately, not wanting to get caught off guard in the cover.

By the time it had settled and Rat could see again, Kaboodle was gone.

Notes:

Still in a writing rut this took wayy to long to edit and i'm not gonna see my partner for ages now. I have so much paperwork to do and I am so tired :(

hope you enjoy the chapter <3 I might struggle to answer comments for a while :)

Chapter 11

Mane was once again at Zam's doorstep except this time Pangi didn’t need to come running to find Rat. In fact, Rat had stayed over the night before. He had had a meeting with Red, Mapicc and Zam and though they hadn’t necessarily gotten a lot done, they had bickered, eaten a decent meal provided by the greenhouses and decided on the next shipment of food to each faction.

Rat had elected to sleep at Zam's instead of tracking across the city to the church, and the other two had returned home.

Mane was unusually waiting outside. He appeared unarmed, but Rat knew what a sack of shit that was. No one in the city was ever unarmed. But he was appearing to be defenceless and that was a lot of trust.

Rat stepped out, ordering Pangi and Zam to stay inside. He needed someone to guard his spawn point if things got messy.

He walked out and greeted Mane. "Morning, wasn't expecting you!" His false cheer was like salted icing-nice to look at but awful to receive. Mane smiled, a thin-lipped awkward thing.

"Yeah, morning." Rat stared at him and recalled passing the life he took from him with the explosion off on Bacon. He had gotten back to the church and casually thrown it at him. The player had obviously been off-put, asking pesky questions like:

"Who did you kill? Whose was this? Why are you giving it to me? Is this a trap?" Just on and on, incessantly reasonable questions.

Rat had brushed it off and said it was Mane's, and he threw a fit over how much he wanted to see Bacon. He had waggled his eyebrows at him, but Bacon had just blinked. Then he shrank. Bacon did not shrink.

After his own round of annoyingly reasonable questions, Rat had gotten him to cave. He had admitted he found Mane unpredictable-scary was his exact word. He told Rat he didn’t really know if he wanted to see Mane, not because he didn’t like Mane, he’d love to talk to him, but the potential threat he posed, Bacon's inability to guarantee his teammates' safety-it was so much.

"I'd like to meet with Bacon," he asked, shockingly cutting to the chase. "I'll play nice, I’ll do everything you ask me to." He said it breathlessly, like he needed to get it out but the words were stuck in his throat.

Rat frowned at him. "Big talk," he dismissed, and Mane's expression grew frustrated. But he didn’t come at Rat with barbed words like he expected him to. Rat was suicidal for playing this game, but hey, he was suicidal for trying to take over a city of hardened criminals and madmen. He was getting headway so...

"Will you actually be playing nice, or pretending?" Rat asked, cocking his head and smiling his sweetest sinister grin, his teeth surprisingly sharp glittered. Mane was a lion hybrid but Rat's carried plague. Every animal knew to be cautious, and though Rat would never, he liked to lean into negative stereotypes if for nothing then to scare people.

Mane's expression just grew more determined. "I swear on my life," he vowed, and Rat didn’t believe him. He didn’t because that was an easy promise to make-one's own life was meaningless when you had others to swear on. But did Mane? Sure, he had Flame, but for siblings they acted much more like business partners.

"Okay..." Rat said after a long pause. Mane perked up. "I'll talk to Bacon about it." Mane deflated a little but he still looked hopeful. Rat noticed his tail was twitching, the tuft of hair at the end rippling in the air.

Talking to Bacon will give him time and give him the ability to decide for himself. Rat didn’t really want to be making more decisions on his kidnapping victim's behalf. They were allowed to roam without both their ankles cuffed together, but they were still tied to their little moss nest and were mostly just kept in the church with Mid and Derapchu.

o0O0o

They were sitting at the edge of the miniature artificial river Derapchu had worked his ass off to maintain, the trickle of water flowing peacefully through the church. Rat had Bacon sat beside him staring at the river. He had just finished explaining what had happened with Mane. Rat knew he was shivering but was trying very hard to conceal it.

"That's..." Bacon struggled to find the words. "Progress," he finally settled on, but the sour look on his face said otherwise. Rat smiled and shrugged.

"Yeah, it's totally up to you though. I can keep him away as long as you want." Even if that was forever, Rat could make it happen.

Bacon hummed. He was still cuffed, a rope knot around his ankle that kept him immobilised to a thick tree root that had been so deeply melded into the church floor it was an equivalent to metal. Mid's knot work had done its job. Planet and Jaron were off to the side playing tic-tac-toe in the dirt. It looked like Planet was winning, much to the annoyance of Jaron.

"I'm not against it," Bacon finally said, and Rat looked at him-examined him was a better term. Bacon was looking, unseeing, eyes fixed on the river. "But like this is such a fucking trap," he finally said, and Rat knew it was to ease the tension, to deflect from what he wanted to say. But Rat also knew sometimes we need space. He laughed a little more than natural, but it was fine.

He felt cold, but he knew his skin was hot to touch. Rat was coming down with something, and fast. It had started this morning. It was only getting worse. He needed to leave-half because really he didn’t want them to see, he wanted to go hide in a corner and ride out the sickness on his own, and half because he was far too fucking busy to be ill right now. It was winter, people needed food, needed medicine. He needed to clear out bastards who thought they could push Zam around. He needed to throw half-heartedly disguised breaks at Red because god knows he will overwork himself. He needs to fight Mapicc because he hasn’t in a while and it's just.

He's too busy to be getting sick right now, he left.

Which was probably a bad idea, seeing as a few hours later Rat was leaning against a wall on a roof trying to gain back most of his vision. Black spots had begun to encroach and he knew a fall from the height he was at would most definitely kill him. He could get the heart back but that would just be annoying.

He was just running through a couple breathing exercises when he realised another person was on the roof with him. In a flash Rat had his scythe out and the unidentified individual pinned against the wall by their throat.

Looking up though all he saw was Woogie.

The polar bear looked down at him with no concern for his own safety, only a genuine kind of worry that was born from care. Rat stumbled back and that was a mistake because the world tilted on its axis and he felt like he was going to faint for the second time in the last twenty minutes.

Woogie reached out and caught his shoulder. Holding Rat steady he delicately began to lower both Rat and himself to the ground.

"Careful, didn’t want you falling," he soothed as Rat felt like he was shaking out his skin. Rat conformed to his strong arms and soft fur, he probably shouldn’t have gone out today.

"Yeah you probably shouldn’t have," Woogie laughed and Rat startled at the fact he had spoken out loud.

"I can’t be sick," Rat protested and Woogie squeezed him a little. He continued, "I'm too busy," he whined and Woogie sighed.

"Bro listen I get it," he said and Rat tried to fight his way out but Woogie held on. "But we can take care of shit for a few days," he soothed and Rat went limp again in his arms. If he wasn't being let out might as well enjoy the warmth.

"Business literally redid the entire market for you without your oversight," he continued and Rat hummed. Redd had done a lovely job of it too, the market was unrecognisable. He had grumbled at Rat’s uplifting of his system but he had done it anyway. "We can run patrols and we can do stuff to make sure you don’t die," Woogie soothed and Rat was grouchy.

He was tired and too warm and too cold and just all round not having a good time of it. Irritably he asked, "Who are you and why are you trying to help me?" He shuffled his wet nose into soft fur and he knew it was gross but Woogie left him no choice.

Woogie just laughed through, "Hi, I’m Woogiex," cool full name, "I am the only healer of the Peacekeepers." Rat but relented.

"Okay sure."

Woogie cheered lightly, "Good, I'm going to have Pangi watch you if that's okay." Rat hummed. He was already blacking out. "No we need to stay away till you're back at the church," but he was out before Woogie could explain his plan proper.

o0O0o

Rat was ill and Pangi had done a phenomenal job getting him back to the church unseen. Mid was mad. Derapchu was... worried, he was sat off to the side watching Rat with wide eyes. The 'guests' were curious.

"You went out knowing you were ill?" Mid was in the throes of telling Rat off, which he thought was rather rude seeing as he wasn’t lucid enough to understand her verbal dressing down. Rat hummed. "You could have fainted, fallen off a roof!" she fretted earnestly and Rat could do nothing but give her apologetic puppy eyes.

Rat was drifting, that place between lucid and asleep. Pangi was off cooking a broth of some type, probably bone broth. Rat had shown Zam the recipe and now the Peacekeepers always cooked it.

He turned to Planet, who was the only one of the trio looking at Rat in earnest. The other two were sneaking glances but Planet was ever so blatant in their examination of him.

Rat could see his code, or well, see was the wrong word for it. Planet's code was almost invisible, as if it was hidden. Where he could usually glean basic information about a person, he was completely lost on Planet. Rat had a theory his code was actually suppressed by the city or something older. A block on the code could be bad for them though.

"Do you want me to take the block off?" he offered and Planet frowned. They glanced to Bacon and Jaron as if to check Rat wasn’t talking to them. "I get it if you have it for a reason," Rat clarified and Planet turned back to him, expression thoroughly confused.

"What block?" he asked and Rat's expression soured. So it was older than the city. Gross.

"The one on your player code, can't find the origin not in this state." The city made it so everything was so much more complicated. "But I can sure as shit get rid of some shoddy player code block." Rat puffed up slightly, priding himself on his ability to work anywhere on anything, he was multifaceted.

"Uhhh..." Planet dithered but Jaron spoke on his behalf.

"Will it hurt?" he asked and Rat shrugged.

"Maybe, probably not, you'll feel better when it's gone though." Player code blocks were always uncomfortable, it was noticeable when they were lifted because you always felt lighter. Or so Rat was told.

"Sure!" Planet said but Jaron looked worried. Rat lifted his arm and fuck he was heavy, he needed to lay down, but he needed to take the stupid block off first.

Planet stared, eyes wide, and Rat began to pull his player code out into thin air and pick at it. He didn't have any tools but shit like this was always heavy-handed, just hashing out a few lines and removing a few inconvenient functions and voilà, he had perfectly working player code.

Rat pulled back feeling fucking exhausted as Planet sat there, brows narrowed in concern.
"You okay?" Bacon asked and he sounded worried. Why was he worried? Rat would never do anything bad, not to Planet or any of the trio or really anyone in the city who didn’t pick a fight first. There would be no point.

"This is weird," and his voice was slightly distorted. Rat blinked at Planet, realising he must be a Voidlung, such a rare species hidden away in the city. Rat only knew of a few others, the most famous of them being Bedwars creator Xisumavoid.

"This is..." Planet struggled to find words but Jaron had relaxed, was studying his friend, partner, with curiosity.

"Are you a god?" Bacon asked, his voice filled with incredulity. "The way you pulled that code and the symbols, what the fuck was that?" He stumbled over his words. Rat slumped down and Mid went to catch him and delay his fall so that it was less a tumble and more a graceful descent. Sat on the floor, the moss cool and his skin on fire, Rat laughed.

Rat laughed in Bacon's face, in Derapchu's confusion, in Planet's joy. He laughed in grief for the people he couldn't save, in joy over the position he was in now. He laughed with bitter hatred for what he was, what he pretended to be. Rat laughed because there was nothing else to do.

Then he looked at Bacon dead in the eye, his black all-seeing void meeting the honey brown intelligence.

"If I were a god no one would be stuck here." He said it with the sadness that statement deserved, with the weight behind his words and fear in his lungs.

Pangi came back, he pressed a hand to Rat's head and winced. "We're putting you in a nest," he decided, and Rat sighed. He went willingly, but he was tired, and his body ached, and he was sad. Pangi hushed him with gentle words.

Behind him, Bacon asked the room at large, "What the hell was that?"

Pangi glanced over at Bacon and smiled apologetically. "He's sick. He might be talking nonsense."

At that, Rat took offence. He was perfectly logical, thank you very much. In protest, he declared he was in fact "very reasonable and smart"-apart from the words slurred and the world was tilting...

o0O0o

Rat was in and out of lucidity. The sickness he had came on hard and fast, and everyone was being extra careful with him-or well, he thought they were, because Pangi sure as hell was acting worried. Well, he was trying to hide it, but he wasn't very good.

Rat was awake, but he wasn't awake. Everyone was going about the day-or maybe they were sleeping-and his schedule was screwed. The artificial sunlight dimmed in the church at night, but his vision was failing him as it was.

He turned to Pangi, who was trying to check his temperature, but Rat was squirming too much. The poor sod had unending patience, it seemed, as he just readjusted Rat.

"How many exes does Zam have?" Rat asked, voice thick and not his. Nope, he was not that man.

Pangi's expression contorted in confusion. "What? Zam?" he tried to clarify, but Rat was floating. He knew he wasn't going to get much with prompting. "None?" he tried to answer, and Rat snorted.

"Nope! Stop lying," he supplied chipperly, and Pangi just looked more perplexed. Rat giggled. "I know you two have something weird going on," he wiggled his eyebrows then continued, "and he had a thing with Mapicc, definitely Bacon." He glanced at the small mound that was the trio. They slept in an undignified heap, and Rat loved it. He looked back to Pangi, who was inspecting him. "Even P-fucking hell-Poafa," he said, remembering the soft looks and the way Poafa was willing to follow Zam like a lost puppy.

Pangi chuckled. "I can see what you're getting at," he reassured Rat, who made a happy squeaking sound then settled down. "But maybe you should sleep a few more hours." It was a badly disguised trick, but Rat was sleepy enough it worked. He settled down.

"Okay, but not because you told me to,"

Rat was in and out of lucidity for another day or so. He only really regained full faculties late in the evening when everyone was out or asleep-everyone except Jaron, who for whatever reason had decided to come and sit alongside Rat. He radiated warmth, and Rat leant into him as he shook off the remnants of sickness.

Their silence was comfortable, sometimes broken by the snuffling of Bacon and Planet or the alien trills of Pangi. The silence stretched until Jaron broke it, his voice soft and inviting. "What are you doing?"

Rat looked down at himself. "Sitting?" he offered, and Jaron smirked but rolled his eyes.

"No, like in general." And wasn't that the golden question.

Rat hummed, giving himself time to think over an answer. Nothing was really grand enough, nothing was really honest enough. He sighed and looked at Jaron, who was wearing that soft hat and his long sleeve T-shirt. He had discarded his cat that Planet was snuggling up to while pressed against Bacon, who as a Nether-born was probably a furnace.

"I'm not..." He railed for a second, the honesty bitter on his tongue. "I'm not really sure." He looked at Derapchu's artificial river. His second follower was around and about these days, always helping in his own ways. From what Rat could remember, he actually was getting along well with Pangi. Good, that was good.

"I guess saving the world," he said, and it was half a joke, because all good things were hidden in a curtain of irony, in a veil of lies. Jaron looked at him, his face openly calculating, his features soft. He was not a good fighter, he was not a good killer. Rat didn’t know what ended him up here in the city of stolen lives, but...

Jaron sighed, his breath warm. The church was in no way cold-Rat made sure of it-but winter was in full swing. He could imagine breaths of icy air billowing up like dragon's breath. "When you do that," he was watching Planet and Bacon sleep curled together, "please don't leave us behind."

Rat also stared at the pile, then at Pangi who was rolled into a ball, Mid draped across her branch like a queen in her court. "This is the safest any of us have ever been, you know, since we got to the city," Jaron told him, and on the backdrop of gently rustling plants and warm air and trickling water, Rat believed him wholeheartedly.

"the thing you did for Planet," he continued, and Rat rolled over so he could look at Jaron’s head on. He jumped topics so quick it made his head spin. "He has a brother, maybe." Rat frowned but Jaron brushed him off. "Something like that."

Rat nodded. "Spoke-his name’s Spoke, he’s in the war, for the castle." He was hesitant sharing but Rat was enthralled in his words, staring at him with his full attention. The night rolled on around them.

"The castle," Rat filled in, and Jaron looked to him. Rat continued because he had already interrupted. "Why do they fight?"

He had asked Mid, and Derapchu, Zam and Mapicc. He hadn’t asked Redd-he needed to-but in any case no one knew why they fought. "No one knows," Jaron joined the chorus of dismissal. Rat slumped and he cocked his head quizzically. "They probably lost it," he told Rat but Rat just couldn’t believe it.

"Maybe they’re fighting over something," he theorised absently. Jaron just gave him a judgmental look.

"Something no one else understands?" he asked, and Rat sighed. Maybe?!

Rat was done with this line of the conversation. He looked over at Mid, who was still laying in the tree, to Bacon who Rat knew Mane’s life pulsed just beneath his skin.

Rat thought, "I could give you all lives," he offered it casually but Jaron looked at him like he had gone mad.

"After everything you’ve done for us," he asked incredulously. Rat tried to brush him off, tried to insist it was nothing, but Jaron shook his head. "This temple is safe enough really, and we are fine on eight and nine. It’s more than we used to have."

And Rat grumbled but he didn’t disrespect his wishes. The trio didn’t really have a leader but Jaron was level-headed where the other two were brash. He made most of their calls when it came to survival.

And wasn’t that what the city was about? Survival?

Rat looked at his trident, a project he had picked up and put down so many times. It just needed something, to carry it home-a mod embedded so deep it rippled through the city.

Rat stared at Jaron, who had gone back to peacefully watching the river. He thought about the fever that had ripped so mercilessly through his body. He thought of the stars that speckled the sky.

What he needed was fire, to burn, scorch the earth that had harmed the people. He needed to cleanse. Rat got up. Insomnia’s a bitch. He had shit to do.

Notes:

I can't let being late become a habit... Hi, I'm still off on holiday and stuff lmao I just realised I'm gonna either put off posting a few times in the coming months or get a friend to post from my account because I'm gonna be camping at music festivals and stuff... Ah decisions decisions.

Anyway hope y’all enjoyed the chapter even though it's late. I have a headache and am going to bed now <3

Chapter 12

Rat was mostly well, enough that Pangi couldn't cling to his arm and stop him from leaving. The rest of the church had grumbled, but eventually Derapchu had spoken up on his behalf. "Man, he's going to go anyway, just let him and keep an eye out."
Thank you, Derapchu. Rat made a face at him but continued on his way out.

"Just don't do anything stupid!" Pangi called after him, and rude Rat only did the most intelligent things while running patrol.

Rat made his way across the city rooftops, being sure to be seen in many public spaces. He needed to re-establish himself, show the city he was here and back and ready for a fight. Rat knew immediately upon entering spawn trouble was brewing.

The Peacekeepers' areas were relatively quiet, but the areas of debated ownership were in turmoil. Rat made his way to the border of the casino district and looked out. Yeah, trouble was brewing. The streets that were usually silent with fear were populated by quiet whispers of worry and fear.

Rat needs to be ready for this, whatever it is, he just...

Derapchu was sat on the roof looking over the districts, his once clumsy footing now self-assured. He looked at Rat, who waved and came over.

"I see you're still alive," he commented, and Rat sighed.

"Yes," he agreed automatically, and Derapchu smiled lightly.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Derapchu asked, looking at the city.

Rat huffed a laugh. "Absolutely not," he said with confidence, and Derapchu laughed.

"I should've guessed that." They lapsed into silence. Rat looked at the people he was going to save, his resolve hardening into stone.
"Mid is going to love the sword," Derapchu told him, and Rat smiled. He was glad these two found him. He didn't really know if he could've done it on his own. He didn't want to think about that.

o0O0o

Rat was sat relaxing with 4C. Well, he was relaxing—4C was trying to figure out how best to deal with a housing dispute with a building that had been condemned in accordance with Rat's new inspection plan.

They needed to put 12 people somewhere while they fixed the central beam of the building that was dangerously unstable.

Rat watched 4C work with tireless intensity, then after about ten minutes he huffed in frustration.

"You doing alright?" Rat asked as he draped across the furniture.
4C shook his head.

"I'm fine, just need a break." He stood up to stretch. His skin was translucent - Rat could see the wall behind him through him. Rat didn’t say a word and he yawned and looked out the window. The nights were still painfully long. Winter was in full swing. Most buildings were cold and damp. Rat rolled over off the cupboard he was sat on top of.

"Hey Rat, I got a theory," 4C said, and Rat looked to him in interest. His theories were always interesting - from guessing Rat was a god, to an eldritch being, to a literal watcher. Rat always liked to hear what his thought process was, no matter how wrong he may be.

"Well, you know how you're really good with people?" Rat didn’t pull a face but he wanted to. Lux would be laughing in 4C's face if they could hear him.
"Well, I was thinking, maybe you were an admin?" He looked at Rat eagerly, and Rat frowned.

In Content SMP he was an admin, but the admin powers were not in fact what gave him the modding ability. Everyone had been a modder really, so admin powers were just a formality, and he had been an anchor soul more than anything important.

But still, 4C was right technically. Rat shrugged.
"Yeah, I was an admin," he agreed after hesitating only a second.

4C grinned excitedly, waving his hands.
"Okay okay that’s!" He struggled to find his trail of thought. "Why can you still use your admin abilities?" he asked, and Rat smiled at him, slightly smug, mostly just ready to see the pure confusion.

"I can't," because his admin powers had nothing to do with his modding. Being an admin didn’t really lead to modding - modding was something you learned from a friend of a friend or fell into by pure accident.

4C's expression fell before growing more confused. A grin of utter disbelief and wonderment took over from his last rapidly changing expressions.
"There's no way," he struggled, and Rat smiled at him, tilting his head to the side with a smug sort of confidence.

"There is, 4C. I'm here, am I not?" he offered, and the confused, frustrated groan he received sent him into a peel of laughter.
Rat sat back and looked at 4C, who was shaking his head in bewilderment.
"Go back to the drawing board," he ordered, and then to soften it he added, "I know you'll get there eventually."

o0O0o

Rat was looking for a good place to nap. He was dropping into Demon Downtown for a quick overview of their operations and one thing led to another and he had stayed far too many hours and was fucking exhausted.

Mapicc was a manic who needed to be doing at least three things at all times to stay even slightly stimulated to the correct degree. He flitted around like a hummingbird and Rat had to run to keep up with him.

So he was tired and it was cold and Rat wanted a small broom closet or maybe a good desk to duck into and nap. He did not expect anyone to be in the office at half ten when everyone was supposed to be busy dealing with winter functioning but well, maybe they thought the same thing.

A tall man with black void skin and a ruffle of black hair - Rat did not immediately recognise him, but Jepex, who was sat on the table desk in front of him, who was wrapped around him like he would die if he ever let go.

Rat must’ve made too much noise though because they leapt apart and he recognised the stranger - well, sort of. He was MinuteTech, the feared second-in-command of the casino district, Clown's right-hand man and chief enforcer, and he had had fucking JEPEX PINNED IN ON A DESK IN THE DEMON DOWNTOWN AND—

Minute shoved Jepex behind him, stuck his chest out and tilted his head back. A proud, self-defensive man, he looked Rat dead in the eye and in a voice that barely concealed a quaver said, "No one will ever believe you."

Rat busted out laughing, because this was his life, this was what it all built up to. Here? Really? He looked at Minute, who was all serious, to Jepex, who looked one wrong move away from bolting, and he shook his head.

There were so many ways he could play this, so many games he could start, but Rat felt a good old dosage of denial was needed as a nice even foundation.
"No, they will," he said confidently, far better at lying than Minute. "It's so obvious."
It wasn’t, or at least he never knew, never would’ve guessed - MinuteTech and Jepex, really, a match made in an unethical testing facility.

Minute, who was all flamboyant and puffed up a second ago, deflated. His head dropped, his eyes lost the wilful lustre. He was still between Rat and Jepex, but now he resembled a kicked dog.

"What do you want?" he asked, and he sounded defeated, lost, and Rat remembered who he worked for - the danger he must be in just to be here in the office. If Jepex was in danger of Mapicc throwing an epic fit over him 'dating the enemy', Minute may actually be facing death right now. Rat felt bad, but well, business was business.

Rat was ruthless in a quiet way, a soft hidden way.
"I want directions to Clown's main warehouse," he ordered.
The look in Minute's eyes stayed the same, then Rat added,
"And you to stay as quiet as you want me to be about this whole ordeal."
There. Simple deal. The threat was on the table - give him the info and if he talks, Rat will talk louder. Who would bet Rat couldn’t get him killed before he could spill Rat's plan?

Jepex shuffled on the table so he was leant around Minute and was looking at Rat in interest.
"Why?" he asked, and he didn’t sound upset, more just interested.
Jepex liked to know what was happening, what was going on, and Rat was happy to indulge him as always, even if it was his life on the line.
"I was in this game to win this game," he told Jepex, then looked at Minute who was holding his breath.
"I'm going to win," he said simply, and Minute let it all out in a single puff.

"Okay, sure, but Clown doesn't have a main warehouse," Minute told him, and Rat hummed.

"Any specific collection?" he asked, and Minute frowned.

"A few, but he doesn't like sticking around anywhere specific."
Clown sounded smart - a man after Rat's own heart.

"Give me the names, I'll figure something out."

o0O0o

That something turned out to be trapping and interrogation.

Rekrap was rumoured to be the best escape artist in the city. He was also rumoured to be incredibly close to Clown - or was it Branzy? Theories varied, but seeing as most didn’t really know who Branzy was, Rek was seen as Clown's man.

Rat knew Rek was part of the casino district and was probably in charge in part of scheduling, seeing as he was best at avoiding suspicion. Rat decided that interrogating him was probably the best idea - or maybe the worst. That was where all the greatest results came from: bad ideas executed flawlessly.

Which was why, when his set-up - a floor trap that folded in on the victim - failed to capture the bastard, he despaired.
Rekrap somehow sensed the trap setting off and grabbed the edge of the platform, flipping it all the way over and jamming it in place, sitting on top of the mechanism and grinned at Rat, who was at the end of the corridor at the time.

"Who are you?" he asked, rocking dangerously side to side on the mechanism. "And why was that the best trap I've ever been in?" He grinned giddily and Rat was perplexed by this strange man.

He was plain-looking, with a yellow and blue jacket and pointy features. Upon him moving, Rek's eyes zeroed in on Rat, his expression opened, some less imp-like and more shocked. He almost toppled down the trap and that would’ve been amazing. It wasn’t lethal so really he had no reason to be so anxious apart from the fact most traps were lethal.

"Ohhh," he said, voice awed, and Rat, feeling the moment to be grandiose, introduced himself.

"Yes, hello, I am Rat."

"Clown's interested in you." His voice was stressed and foreboding, and Rat smiled at him.
"This is a bad thing," he clarified, as if he didn’t believe Rat understood the danger he was suggesting. Rat shrugged.

"I'm not that interested in him," he lied like a lying liar.

Rek judged him across the room and Rat didn’t want to give him a reaction.

They stood in the stalemate for a few seconds before Rek decided they had been quiet long enough.
"Sooo..." he began awkwardly, "why did you try to catch me?"

Rat rolled his eyes, but Rek seemed genuine. He pursed his lips - he might as well ask.
"I was going to ask about Clown's schedule."

Rek laughed a little. "And you're not that interested in him?" he teased, and Rat pulled a face.

"No, I'm just looking for a little chat," he told Rek, and Rek shrugged.

"Oh, then I'll answer anything I can," Rek told him, and Rat frowned.

"I tried to trap you," he said slowly. "And failed," he added, and Rek shrugged.

"You did a better job than most people," he shrugged. "And like, his schedule doesn’t really exist so my answers are going to be lacklustre no matter what."

Rat frowned. "Like is he never in the same place regularly?" he asked, and Rek shrugged.

"He's with Branzy a lot," he shrugged, "but he hides Branzy most of the time." Rat frowned. Rek continued, "He's annoyingly unpredictable." Rat had to agree. "Better he seeks you out than you him." And Rat sighed.

Rek smiled at him. "Glad I could help." He stood to leave. The function creaked ominously and Rek jumped. The entire thing closed in on itself with a bang and Rat was alone in the small corridor. That was such a chance encounter he was not expecting.

Rat decided he liked Rek. He wouldn’t mind hanging out with the guy...

Rat climbed up to see over the rooftops and he could just see in the distance Rek running like hell. Well that was funny.

o0O0o

Rat was looking for something to eat. It was two a.m. sure, but he was hungry and he needed a snack. He was not expecting anyone to be in the Peacekeepers' kitchen but well, it shouldn’t make him squeak and jump across the room when he saw Zam head down on the table.

"Hey," Rat said, shocked. He hadn’t sat up when he came in making so much noise, but when Zam looked up, his eyes red and puffy, Rat understood.

"Heyyy," he repeated, his voice softer and his shoulders lowered, trying to look welcoming. Zam looked at him long and hard.

"Wha-" he began to ask then he gasped, scrubbed at his reddened cheeks with desperation. "No no no no no—" Rat walked over to the pantry and pulled out a loaf of bread and just ripped into it.

"Tough day?" he asked, not looking at Zam.

"I'm sorry man, usually I'm better. This is not what I need people to see." Rat turned around and saw him pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. "I need to be perfect," he mumbled and kicked the linoleum floor. Rat frowned.

Rat frowned at his team lead. He knew Zam had issues—the copious exes was obvious enough—but well, this was something he might be able to help. "That's not healthy," he told Zam, and the yellow man looked at him, eyes sad. "It's going to get you killed."

Zam laughed humourlessly and put his head back down on the table. "Doesn’t everything?" he asked, and Rat walked over. He still had the bread in hand. "This city is a deathtrap, no, a death game. Slow and stupid." He looked up. Rat offered him a hunk of bread. It was fresh enough—Pangi had probably baked it that morning. He was good like that. Considerate and less likely to get fur in food than Woogie.

Zam took the bread and chewed on it slow and thoughtful. He stared at Rat across the table as Rat also ate. His eyes were red, the world seemed to be weighing him down even as he usually stood so tall and boastful. Now he was a wreck of a human.

"Do you want a hug?" Rat asked, and Zam slowly nodded. He stood up and so did Rat, who stepped out and slowly, ever so slowly, as if not to spook a wild animal, opened his arms. Zam, hesitant at first, wrapped himself up in Rat's embrace.

They stood like that for several seconds. When Zam began to sink, Rat followed. Down on the floor they rested, pressed into one another.

Rat with his back against a cupboard and Zam pressed desperately into his chest.

They sat like that for what could be hours, but eventually tiredness overtook them and life needed to roll on. Zam pried himself away from Rat first, shaking as he stood and scrubbed fresh tears off his face. With a shuddering breath, he drew himself tall.

Sat on the floor, Rat stared up at him, eyes soft, smile smooth. "I forgot about this," he told Zam or maybe himself. "I need this more often," he decided, and Zam smiled. The tears on his eyelashes blinked away slow and steady.

With a sniffle, he agreed, and they parted ways for the night.

o0O0o

The next time Rat encountered one of the circus—oh sorry, he meant the casino district—he was by the docks. It was not barge day so there was no reason for him to be here. In fact, the tension between the fighting rings was at an all-time high, but Rat liked the sound of the ocean on the shore.

He had just come here to think, but his peace was shattered by an unexpected visitor. Long blue hair and silken white rabbit ears came bobbing down the beach towards him. "Clown’s sister," he greeted Kaboodle, not quite coldly.

"Crazy man running around with a scythe claiming to be a god," she snapped back.

Rat frowned, confused. "Coming on a bit harsh there," he tried to chide, but Kaboodle looked unimpressed.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't boil people down to their relationships," she snapped back spitefully. Rat shrugged. She was correct.

"Yes, probably," he agreed, but he did not apologise. Kaboodle stayed standing even as Rat lounged back on the old decaying pillar of wood he was leaning on.

She folded her arms and looked at him expectantly. Rat still didn’t know what she was after.
"What game are you playing?" she asked, accusatory but also hysterical, like a part of her was genuinely worried. Rat frowned, stared out to sea and thought.

He mulled over his answer as the waves rolled in and Kab stood impatiently waiting for her answer. Eventually, he decided to say, "I need control." He settled on it. He needed to control the city, the people, the information. He needed to know what the resources are and who’s getting them, who is talking to who and how often and when and where.

Rat was a creature of control, bending universes to his will with a single tweak. He could rip reality to shreds, crash the whole thing and leave nothing. Then he could fix it and start over. But Rat never wanted to hurt anyone, and right now everyone was in a prime position to be hurt — by accident or otherwise.

"And what do you want from my brother?"

She asked, and Rat looked at her, his head cocked. What did he want from Clown? The same as everyone else. He had made it clear he wanted this — he wanted control over the city, and Clown was part of the city. What had she missed?

"I can’t get to Clown, so I will have Clown come to me," he said simply, concisely. Maybe that would get the message to him — his own sister carrying his word. He would have to seek Rat out now, right?

Kaboodle pulled a face at him, her brows knit, her eyes narrowed. "You’re playing a dangerous game," she evaluated shrewdly, and Rat laughed.

He gestured at the beach, at the city, at himself. Rat was playing a dangerous game every single fucking day — all he has already done, all that he plans to do. If Clown thinks he is the biggest, baddest, meanest player in this game, he is sorely mistaken. Rat hasn’t even started playing in earnest and he already has half the city wrapped around his finger.

Chapter 13

Notes:

*gently rolls fanfiction into the room*

*stands awkwardly in the corner*

i'm sorry... i keep missing the deadline... here's a fanfic :)

*runs*

Rat didn’t have to stop robberies as often as he used to, he used to spend half his patrols dropping into alleyways kicking bastards’ teeth out to teach them the hard lesson of not fucking with his people.

But nowadays no one fucked with Rat's team so he didn’t have to do it as much.

But today something different was in the air or was that the fumes coming off the chemical plant? Rat didn’t care. He was looking down in the alleyway and three men were teaming up on a shorter white-haired stranger

Or were they a stranger, voice shooting words a mile a minute - pleas to be left alone, attempts at camaraderie, outright warnings.

He stumbled over his words. "Look you guys don’t know what you’re playing with," and Rat recognised him - white hair and medium stature, plain looking apart from striking amethyst eyes. This was Clown’s pet right-hand man.

Branzy.

Branzy who, like Bacon, could probably have the entire city burned if he died. "I wouldn’t recommend this fight, like at all." He lifted his hand ready to shield his head - bet he could - but Rat was down in a flash. He tanked the blow on his back then reared up, snatched the weapon and dove for the stranger’s neck. He made quick work, then the next - this time he spun out his scythe, embedding it in his eye and sending him down to the ground, pinned to the stone by his skull. Rat turned around and without missing a beat shot out his trident.

It went through his flesh and his bone far too fast to be effective and Rat sighed as the prongs got embedded in the alley wall. That was going to be a bitch to remove.

Branzy stared at him, his jaw slack. "You’re welcome," he said, not sure what else to say as Branzy scrambled back, his eyes going from his scythe to his trident to him. Rat stood in the middle of the carnage he had created and grinned.

"Clown’s not gonna like that you saved me," he said, and his voice was barely above a whisper. Rat frowned at him, odd thing to say to the guy who saved you - but well, Rat could understand the poor fucker’s feelings. Maybe being Clown’s on-demand therapy animal did have its negative side effects, as Rat watched his fist curl and uncurl like he was readying for a fight.

Rat shrugged in answer to his question, statement, declaration. "Clown's not going to like that I’m here," because that was the truth and by Branzy’s short snort and shaking of his head he had to agree.

Rat watched on casually as Branzy gathered himself and went to leave.

He looked at Rat long and hard and sighed. "He could learn to get along with you." Rat noticed the lack of the term like or work together or anything that would indicate camaraderie. He looked sad. "As long as you..." he trailed off, because it was what Rat was told every day of his life.

If he just changed, wasn't as much, wasn't a threat. He couldn't be any of those things, he didn't want to try. "If I can just be something I'm not." He finished Rat's sentence for him before smiling at him wide and starlike.

"Thanks but no thanks," he told Rat. "I'm good." And he left the alleyway knowing whatever went down in Branzy's head is what would get passed to Clown himself. Better hope his impression was good enough.

o0O0o

Rat sighed heavily. He had been actively explaining what had gone down earlier to a confused Derapchu and Zam in the Peacekeeper kitchen area when he was rudely interrupted. Pangi was in the doorway and he was wringing his hands.

"Mane's outside," he said, voice awkward. Rat stared and asked,

"What does he want?"

And that was how he ended up outside the Peacekeepers' base facing down one of the deadliest combat experts in the city. By his side his brother loomed, opposing but quiet about it.

Rat was so done. He hadn’t even finished his coffee.

"Good morning," he greeted Mane with a flat, unimpressed voice. Mane opened his mouth and rows of teeth could be seen. He wrinkled his brows at Rat.

"How come I haven’t seen Bacon?" he asked menacingly, and Rat pulled an utterly disgusted, mildly unimpressed expression.

"Well you see, he didn’t want to see you because you play up this big bad wolf impression." Rat gestured at Mane’s whole deal and beside him Flame glared at Rat. He was playing with fire here and he was happily watching the world burn.

Mane, however, despite his brother’s rage, deflated a little. His eyes went wider and his vicious smile dropped into something less confident, more forced. "He doesn’t want to see me?" he asked, and for whatever reason Rat felt a little bad.

"Well, he doesn’t feel safe seeing you?" Rat answered, but it sounded more like a question to his own ears. Even as Mane’s defences dropped, his façade came back up and he puffed up once again.

"Alright I don't know how to feel about that, bro," he said, and his white teeth glinted in the weak sun. "But I've seen you fight with a new weapon and I wanna duel for it." Rat stared at him, his eyes rapidly checking on Flame, who was smiling maniacally.

Rat didn't want to fight, but Mane wasn't going to back down... he considered multiple ways he could get out of it, but every plan seemed more desperate and hair-brained than the last. He stared at Mane, who readied his sword before Rat had even agreed.

Mane would see fleeing as a weakness, but he will chase Rat if he thinks he can win...

Like a gun going off at the beginning of a race, Rat leapt into the sky, darting to the rooftops - best to minimise the destruction. He rushed across the rickety surfaces, feet light as he went. Behind him, Mane pursued. The most dramatic game of cat and mouse was starting to begin, and though Mane was a predator, Rats were a lot more resourceful than their rodent siblings.

Rat could not win a head-on fight. Even with mods on his side, he wasn't going to risk it. Mane was strong, crafty, with a skill for adapting to fighting styles quickly. His brother Flame stayed behind watching their fight but not pursuing. Rat assumed he was going to talk to Zam - he had to hope nothing nefarious was going down as he battered the rooftops with desperate movements.

He had Mane chasing him. Now he needed a plan to get out of this.

He was not handing a modded weapon to Mane of all people. He was a loose cannon and Rat did not control him. His part of the city was cagey and maniacal and he was a reflection of that attitude.

Rat could not win head-on, so he led Mane on a city-wide chase across Spawn, down the docks, narrowly avoiding capture by rushing through the docked ships and using a lookout as a springboard to catapult himself onto a roof. Through the business alleyways, where Rat pulled off a few excellent acts of trickery, dropping crates and pallets on Mane's head.

The man got angry and disoriented, and Rat decided to move on before he started to destroy property. Rat led him carefully around Deon downtown, away from the crowd, close to his traps. He couldn't trick him into a warehouse trap like he wanted to. Mane prowled around on the roof, looking for him, and Rat wasn't going to risk peaking his suspicion.

Rat was running out of traps. But then he remembered this was a game of cat and mouse - and in that game, Mane was playing the wild animal. Rat knew the exact trap that would work on him now.

He was closer to home than Rat liked to be. He could see the castle looming over the decaying treetops. He had Mane close on his tail, spotting him through the wilted woods as he walked. He had so many traps set up in the forest - crowd control and the like. He wanted something in particular.

Mane was closer than Rat would ever want him to be, but Rat had found the trap. Hidden in a tree was the lever disguised as a fallen branch. He just needed Mane to step - a crack of a branch was his cue. Rat pushed all his force down and the ground rumbled and the leaves rushed as Mane fell. He yelled as he went down. Rat turned around to see the beauty of his trap. Mane was trapped in a pit - he was tangled in a net that restricted his movements at the bottom of a pit where the walls were all made of weak sandy material.

He was tied up, stuck in a pit that was unclimbable and staring up at Rat with rage in his eyes.

Rat smiled at him and waved. The trap was in the forest - no one would find him for a long time. Rat could leave him for a bit and he wouldn't die. He crouched down. "I'll be back, or maybe I won't," he called, and then he stood up and promptly left, ignoring the sting of curses coming from Mane behind him. Mane can't get out and was forced to stay there.

Rat considered sending someone - let him go pick up his brother or maybe Zam. Pangi would be good, but he was also likely to get killed. Zam was good at running when things were stacked bad. But Rat then remembered the trio living in his church - the trio Mane so desperately wanted to see, or maybe just one.

Rat pivoted on his toe to collect Bacon. Mane was trussed up and perfectly docile - if anything went wrong he could just walk away. Bacon would have the power for once. Yes, this was the perfect situation to set them up for.

o0O0o

After sending Bacon, confused and stumbling, on his merry way, Rat waved to Mid, Planet and Jaron who were playing cards together. Rat noticed Jaron's cuff was missing. Planet still had his on though, so it probably had something to do with Mid letting him go.

Good for her. The church was mostly her domain at that point. Rat just slept there as infrequently as anywhere else.

Rat decided to head back to the Peacekeepers. No death messages appeared in chat, so unless Flame was holding them hostage, Rat should be clear to ask what the fuck happened. Apart from when he entered the little kitchen lit with lamps and warmth, he realised Flame may not be the one holding hostages - he may be a hostage.

Pangi was sat across from Flame. Each of them had a cup of tea. Music was playing crackly from the old record player Woogie had put back together.

"Ah Rat, I'm glad you didn't die!" Pangi said as he entered. Flame frowned.

"You didn't kill me though..." he said, sounding confused. Rat shrugged.

"Two birds one stone" - the only context he gave because Mane was no longer angry and Bacon could have that little chat. Flame frowned but Rat didn't elaborate.

"So what's going on here?" he asked instead, pulling up a chair and sitting down, looking at Flame and Pangi with interest. Pangi grinned and Flame smiled awkwardly, crooked.

"Oh, Flame was just telling me about his uh..." he trailed off, "his proposition for you!" He said it so happily Rat was taken aback.

Flame waved his arms. "No wait- yes- no." He struggled. "Proposal, proposal," he repeated, then winced. "Business proposal. Look, I don't usually do this." He gripped his teacup more solidly. The steam coming off it and the obvious heat did nothing to affect him, so Rat had to assume he was at least a little heat-proof.

"I uh, can I uh..." he struggled, and Pangi gave him an encouraging smile. Flame breathed in long and hard, then out, then settled himself. The nervous energy was almost dead, but he shifted too much for that to be true. "I would like to offer up some of my work."

He smiled — sharp teeth flickering, blazes in his eyes. "Me and my people would like to work with your whole new world." He opened his arms — lacklustre attempt at showmanship, but Rat knew this was not his part. "We'd rather work without being directly under your command," he frowned, "like a partnership."

Rat rolled the thought around in his head. "What about Wemmbu?" he asked, because Flame and Mane had worked for Wemmbu — what was he doing in all this? Flame pulled a face.

"We don't work for him no more," he smiled victoriously, and Rat nodded. Yeah, Wemmbu had been rumoured as a shit boss. It was good they were pursuing outside that field.

"Alright," Rat said. Flame's eyes lit up. "But-" and the fire dimmed some. Flame looked at him, narrowed eyes. "Really easy stuff," he clarified, "but to help you I'm going to need papers and info, a lot of it."

"How much we talking?" Flame asked, and Rat sighed.

"Names, birthdays, origins," he said, and Flame frowned. "Documentation of personhood. Require documentation if you want anything to come from working with me."

"No money though dawg?" Flame asked, and Rat smiled, tired. He had been asked by people from all walks of life that at one point or another.

"No money, I'll run and manage it all- just names, tags, stuff like that. I can give you a template if you want."

Flame sat back and stared at him, his expression unreadable. Pangi sat drinking his tea, quiet and peaceful, as Rat also sat watching the demon right back. "You are weirder than they said- and they called you fucking weird, bro," Flame told Rat, and he chuckled.

He was weird for the city's standards. What he was doing was complicated, and you needed to step back to see the bigger picture if you wanted to know what was going on. But Rat was going to get people out — this city, off this server — and if it took being weird and off and just crazy off, he would take it in a heartbeat.

"So it's a deal?" he asked, and Flame grinned.

"Yes, bro," he said and reached his hand out to shake on it.

o0O0o

Later on, when Rat was back at the church, he found Bacon almost catatonic on the floor and Planet and Derapchu poking fun at him.

"What happened?" Rat asked, bemused, as Jaron sidled up to him.

"So the little conversation went well," Jaron told Rat smugly, and Rat laughed.

"Well yeah, I could've guessed — but why's he shut down on the floor like that?"

Jaron shrugged. "From what I got, they had a good chat."

Mid walked up beside Rat on his other side. "Bacon felt safe because Mane couldn't hurt him," she told Rat, but he knew that as well.

"Yeah, but Bacon offered to give the heart back," and that Rat found funny. He looked at Jaron, who grinned back.

"The heart I stole from him last time?" Rat asked, incredulous, and Jaron grinned wider, nodded more energetically.

Rat stared at the pile of curly hair and whine. "What happened?" he asked, curious where it went from there. Mid picked up the story.

"Mane said he could keep it! It's in better hands with him." Planet skipped over.

"We telling about how Bacon has a huge embarrassing crush on Mane?" they asked, and Jaron laughed.

"We already knew that, I think we all could tell before."

Rat looked down at Bacon and decided he made the exact right choice.

Later the next day, Mane found Rat on a roof in business. He looked tired but prepared, and he approached with his head ducked. Rat frowned. Mane was kind of now working for him so not fighting was a plus, but what was he doing with the bowing and the big eyes?

"Rat, I wanted to join your side." Rat frowned.

"You already are, you and Flame are contractors," he said slowly, but Mane shook his head.

"Na bro, you've done too much for me." He drew in a deep breath. "I've wanted to for a while. Flame wants to have independence but I'm not..." he trailed off. "I wanna work for you, stay with Flame, but in everything I'm yours."

Rat nodded. This was more symbolic than anything, of course, but symbols in the city were as good as law. Rat frowned. "Wait, why did you want to fight me so bad yesterday?" he asked, and Mane grinned.

"Gotta fight you at least once, boss." Rat blinked. "Now I work for you — no more trying to hunt you to death." Rat sighed.

"Okay sure," he said. This was his life now.

o0O0o

Rat needed to stop being so easy to find — or maybe people needed to stop hunting him — because somehow, in the middle of fucking demon downtown, Clownpierce and a group of his most fearsome teammates came straight up to him. Clown flanked by Minute and a stranger who Rat had to assume was Leowook. Rat stared them down for a few long seconds. Clown stared back- or well, his mask stared back.

Rat backed up some and they stepped forwards. Rat moved more and they followed. The game had begun and he didn’t want a fight — not in demon downtown, not really anywhere at all, but not near his civilians.

Rat bolted and the chase was on.

Rat ducked round corners, down alleyways. The trio were dogged hunters with power and skill on their side — all Rat had was the fact they had to coordinate, a slim figure, and knowledge of the streets he was on.

But that didn’t seem to slow down Clown.

Rat rushed. He didn’t play games like he did with Mane — this was life and death, and he was going to die if he wasn’t painfully careful. Rat knew he needed a warehouse. He knew he would never win a head-on fight. He knew it had to be quick. He knew he needed to ask why.

All these things he undoubtedly knew needed to be executed perfectly, or he may not be getting up tomorrow. So Rat ran.

The warehouses stood strong and tall, some housed greenhouses, some housed people, some storage, some abandoned, some were for fights. They were getting closer to the docks though, so he knew exactly which one he needed to gun for. Rat let his tail get spotted by Minute so that his pursuers did not give up.

Rat dove down an alleyway into the side door and into the open area of Wemmbu's unused warehouse. He liked to have it in case of fights. Memories of the first time Rat saw Zam came to the front of his mind — of Zam, Pangi, Woogie and Poafa fighting for their lives. He hooked the scythe up onto a bar and was in the rafters without a sound.

The trio burst in and looked around. They did not see him. Rat shifted in the shadows.

"Hello, Rat," Clown drawled, looking up, but his head was tilted to the side. Was he? Could he even see Rat? Rat stayed quiet. "Playing the long game?" he asked and laughed menacingly. "Just so you know, you won't win."

Rat sighed. No, he wouldn’t, but he didn’t need to. He had his trident. He just needed to spot the barrel... he peered, and it was behind Leo. Would he hit it if he shot through him? Maybe. He sighed.

"Hi," he said as casually as he could, lungs aching from the long chase. Clown brightened.

"So nice of you to greet us!" he said a little too enthusiastically.

"Well, you see, it’s not nice to chase me as a first impression," he said casually, leaning around so he could get a clear shot at the barrel. Leo looked anxious, searching the shadows with narrowed eyes.

"But it wasn’t a first impression," Clown said with a drawl. "If we're speaking of bad first impressions, I'd say you have us beat." He turned his head and the mask went unnaturally fast- was that his face? No. Rat remembered the day with the white-haired Branzy. "I have something you want," he sing-songed.

Rat in the rafters looked down. There Leo was, shifting to the side, putting the majority of his back into the other two and giving Rat a clean shot.
"Clown, ClownPierce, my good sir," he said with a wide smile. "All I want is the heart of the casino district." He raised his weapon and spontaneously it combusted. "I can take it on my own."

He illuminated his position but it was too late. Rat fired as Clown yelled and Minute dove and the barrel exploded and the warehouse was gone. Barrel after barrel went up and gunpowder and coloured dye spewed out in all directions. The screams of pain as the three men went up in a colourful explosion was almost nice, but Rat had to remind himself it was all for the cause. He was not to cause meaningless suffering.

The explosives were supposed to be hidden for a dramatic showdown with Wemmbu — you know, hit him where he first met him. Wemmbu wouldn’t know, but Rat thought himself poetic in some parts. However, as he sat in the rafters and looked at the colourful destruction below, smouldering as it was, he decided his lightshow did not go to waste, still very dramatic.

Rat might need to stop solving his problems with bombs...

Nah.

Notes:

*runs back in*

yeah i was at a music festival, i just speed edited this so uhhh i beg of you to ignore all the fuck ups i’m just a little guy

anyway thanks for being patient with me :) i’m gonna nap, i am sick as a dog

Chapter 14

Notes:

Awkwarly throws you a chapter

"here boy, sorry for the wait" :(

Rat was worried. See, he understood Clown was chasing him because he didn’t like Rat sniffing around his territory, but he had no way to predict the fucker’s next move.

He was just going to annoy Zam about it, maybe pick his mind, but upon walking into the pease keeper’s base he found Zam and Poafa laid out on their tiny couch- or well, more accurately, them lying side by side wrapped around each other. They were talking softly and Rat could hear them discussing softer times.

Rat stayed quiet as he walked past into the kitchen to grab a cup of tea, maybe wait for whatever this was to stop, but while waiting he paused and watched.

Pangi came stumbling into the room and he looked at them and grinned. “Cuddle pile?” he asked hopefully, and Zam lifted an arm. Pangi bolted in and tucked up against them both. Poafa adjusted so Pangi could press his soft nose into the flesh of Zam’s stomach while still having his back pressed into his legs that folded around him. They were a bundle of limbs and warmth, and Rat stepped in so all three could see him.

“Oh, when did you get here?” Poafa asked, a little shocked but not upset. Rat shrugged.

“A little before Pangi,” he said, holding up his cup. Zam smiled at him, even as Pangi didn’t glance over.

Fine, Rat decided, Zam had a fucking harem going and all of them were happy and healthy and whatnot.

“You wanna join?” Zam asked, and for a split second Rat wondered if he was also being taken into the fold.

“Fuck yeah,” he said, and he burrowed into their warmth. Worrying could come later, right now he wanted comfort.

o0O0o

Rat didn’t need to seek Clown out- no, he never wanted to in the first place. Clown came to him in a dark alleyway with no witnesses. It was cliché as hell and was also incredibly scary in Rat’s humble opinion, a leering mask peeking out the darkness, tilted crooked with painted eyes beady, staring at him.

“Hello, Doctor4t,” he introduced, and Rat once again felt painfully scrutinised. “Long time no see,” and he stepped out of the shadows into the dim light. They were in spawn chunks at the moment; alleys were sparse here but Flame and Mane would probably have people prowling the shadows. Whether or not they would be too late... the odds looked stacked against them.

"Walk with me," he ordered, and though Rat had a modded weapon he hated the looks of his odds. Rat bit his tongue and followed the king of the casinos to a, god-damn, secondary location. Here he comes- sad trumpets sounded in Rat’s mind.

As they walked a particular path that cut across alleyways and utilised overhangs more than path, Clown tilted his masked head back, looking perfectly at ease. Rat knew it was a performance due to the tension in his spine.

Rat remembered Zam and Mapicc pointing out the elusive Clown as somewhere between a dictator and a performer, and Rat was starting to understand why.

"I know you want Branzy," he said, and Rat frowned. What the fuck? "I know you want to control me," he added, his voice hardening, and Rat didn’t freeze but it was an impulse. He trotted along two steps behind Clown, careful to stick to the shadows. "But the heart of the casino district is off the table," he said, and the finality to that was felt.

Rat went to open his mouth to ask what the fuck Clown was on, but the jester raised his hand. He didn’t even look at Rat, just anticipated him, and Rat felt both insulted and deeply confused.

"Now, I do understand there is a strategy to this all," he hummed. "A plan, as it was." Rat was impressed he had tricked even Clown into thinking he knew what the fuck was going on. "But you can’t have him- another hostage. I promise I will care as deeply for any of my men, but you can’t have him," and a hint of desperation was in Clown’s voice, a hint of something Rat was painfully used to in this hellish server, a city of desperation, of stolen lives. Clown was begging in a quiet, tucked away part of his mind.

They entered a warehouse Rat knew Clown owned, a territory dispute Flame had told him about at one of the team lead dinners they had. Flame had fit in quite well, Zam sat next to him to ease the tension, Red had talked with his sly persona, and Mapicc had been warned beforehand not to start shit. Flame had been happy to share in the food and the gossip, and by the end of it the tension had melted quite well.

Clown shut the door behind him as Rat thought about anything other than secondary location kill statistics. Inside was nothing. Just a wide open space. Or well, there was something occupying that space- just a small gaggle. He recognised Minuet and Leo and Rekrap. He also glanced around to spot Kaboodle, sat high in a rafter. There were others, but Rat didn’t know who they were or what they were after.

"Rek!" Clown called, and the paranoid man jumped. He looked at Clown with deer-in-headlights wide eyes, and after a split second of hesitation bounded over to his side.

"Yeah?" he asked, confused.

"You're going to play hostage," Clown said, sounding bored. Rek's eyes went somehow wider.

"What?" he asked, voice raising an octave.

"You will be going with Rat," Clown said, and Rek began to splutter protests.

"What? No! No, you can't-" he began to protest, but with a single look from Clown he withered, head ducked, shoulders down. He fell silent, as did every person in the room. "Okay, fine," he said, and he sounded defeated.

Rat had no idea what was going on, he had just followed along. Really, playing nice and engaging in whatever game Clown was playing seemed entirely insane now but...

Rat looked at it all, he wanted out. "Alright, you're coming with me." Rat wanted out of this situation actually, and Rek followed obediently behind, but not before Rat could hear the eruption of whispers and one very clear voice above the rest. "Rekrap will be fine," a woman said, and Rat wasn’t sure if he agreed or not.

They walked in silence. Rat had a clear eye on Rek, not wanting him to slip off. He had such a focus he had actually pulled out his weapon and was walking the streets for once. Back alleys could only do so much, so people saw. Inside, his mind was whirling- what did he even do with Rek? He wanted to unite the city, not hold a prisoner. Was Rek a prisoner of war? What the fuck?

Rat walked with purpose, he needed to go to the church. Mid and Derapchu made everything better, Bacon could laugh at him, Planet would say something airheaded but insightful, and Jaron would just let it all pass him by.

They walked through the woods as it was turning to dusk, the night soon to follow. Rat walked deeper into darkness, and for the first time Rek spoke up, his voice quavering just a little.

"You're not going to kill me..." he paused as Rat didn’t answer, "right?" he pressed a little harder, and Rat turned to him with a flat expression.

"Look, I have less of an idea what the fuck Clown was doing giving me a hostage." Rat gestured at the woods. "We’re just heading to my territory." He fixed Rek with a beady-eyed glare. "If I wanted you dead I would’ve done it for everyone to see you die. I have no reason to hide my violence."

Rek swallowed and ducked his head, and Rat felt a pang of guilt. He sighed.

"I don’t want to hold you captive, but until I can drag Clown to my side I guess you’ll make good leverage." He struggled for a second. "Just sit tight, it’ll be fine."

He didn’t know that, but Rek just sighed and nodded.

Walking through the woods, Rat got the distinct feeling he was being tracked, like eyes were peering at him from every angle. He didn’t want to cause a scene and didn’t want to leave Rek unattended. In the end, he expected whoever was stalking him to get caught by one of his many, many traps.

Rek stayed quiet until they got to the church- such an unassuming building, more overgrown now than when Rat first found it, but still looking dead and decrepit. "This is where your base is?" Rek asked, and Rat didn’t answer. He was too busy pushing the door open inside, and Rek followed curiously.

The artificial sun warmed Rat like the real one failed to outside. The plants were a good thermal regulator, and Rat breathed in the clean air. The trickle of water was a sweet song after the drudgery of the city. Rek froze.

Everyone froze up when coming in for the first time- it was really quite reasonable. It was beautiful, his church, the trees that supported the walls, the roots that guided the river, the moss and vines and flowers that grew. Nowhere in the city was quite like it.

"You’ve made them grow?" Rek asked, and he sounded shell-shocked. Rat looked at him- the stress of the city showed in Rek’s shoulders, in the tension, in the way he walked like he was tiptoeing around a bomb. Rek was a victim of the city, and Rat felt bad for having put him in a situation like this.

"Yeah, I made them all grow."

Out of their little cubby, Planet’s head poked up. "Oh, hey Rat!" he said, waving. Next to him, Jaron appeared.

"Didn’t think you would make it," he said casually, then his eyes slid to Rek and his brows shot up. "Oh, you have another one?"

Bacon’s voice came over the edge, but he didn’t bother looking up. "Did you kidnap him or is he here willingly?" he asked, and Rek tensed.

"You were the one who took the Three Heart Trio?" he asked incredulously, and Planet laughed.

"Yeah, he knocked us out and kidnapped us!" He sounded far too happy, and Rek stared at Rat, who shrugged and nodded. Yeah, he had, Planet was just weird and didn’t seem to mind.

Mid then appeared, and she had her hands on her hips and was dressed in casual wear. She looked at Rat and Rek and the trio with a sort of exasperated fondness. "Another one? This place is filling up."

Rat snorted. "Yeah, maybe another forty and it might even feel cramped." Rek just stood there, lost.

"I feel we’re going to have him trussed for a while, like that lot?" She glanced at the trio, and Rat confirmed. She walked off to get the cuffs and rope ready for Rekrap’s extended stay.

Rek slowly turned to Rat, his deer-in-headlights gaze fixed upon him with an intensity Rat was not used to. He asked slowly, clearly fighting many, many inner dilemmas, "Are you some kind of cult leader?"

Rat snorted. Derapchu appeared from behind them, out of a bush Rat knew he liked to sleep in sometimes. "He prefers god," he told Rek sagely, who startled at his sudden appearance and then looked alarmed by the declaration.

Rat tried to bat off Derap. "I prefer nothing of the sort," he tried to defend, but every resident of the church snorted at that.

Protests from every inhabitant, calling him anything from a tyrant to a spirit sent from above, drowned Rat out effectively, and he sighed. He had no idea what game was being played, but he had this, and this was enough.

o0O0o

It had barely turned into night. Rek was correctly cuffed and was sharing food with the trio of 'prisoners'. Derapchu was watching from his tree branch, and Mid had gone off somewhere to do whatever Mid does.

Rat was enjoying rice and curry -something he hadn’t had in a while but was excellent- when the church door busted open. In a second he was up, in another he was across the room, weapon out, ready for a fight. In a third, he froze.

A stranger, one of Clown’s many lackeys, stared around the church wide-eyed. She was brandishing a bo staff decorated with pink bands, and she was also wearing a pink sweater and white glasses.

Rat knew he was being stalked. Had a trap gotten her as she was on her way here? Was she staking them out? What did she want? Rat stared at the stranger and contemplated just turning around and not dealing with her, but...

This was trespassing.

She was staring at the church in awe though, and Rat was willing to give her a second. Rek, however, was not going to. "Jumper!" he yelled, voice filled with excitement and relief. "You came!"

She started and looked to Rek, but Rat wasn’t letting any chances go. In a clearly unexpected move, he darted forwards, knocked her over, flipped, and pinned her to the earthy ground.

"Nice, I have a second hostage!" he said with a grin. In the dirt, her words were muffled. "What was that?" he asked, lifting her up some.

"No point in holding me hostage, I betrayed Clown coming to get Rek." Rat sighed dramatically and let up. She stayed prone on the ground, her face rapidly changing in confusion. Slowly, she rolled over and looked up.

"What?" she asked eloquently, and Rat smiled.

"If I can’t have a hostage you might as well stick around." He loved causing whiplash, what did he want? Nothing! And it continued to confuse and terrify everyone around him. Mid, who had come away from sharpening her sword, sighed.

"Really?" she asked, exasperated, and Jumper sat up, staring at the room still.

Planet decided he hadn’t done anything weird in too long a time and came skipping up. He still had his ankle cuff, though Bacon’s had mysteriously disappeared, and Jaron had quite literally won a game of chess against Derapchu to get his off.

"Hi!" he said, skipping up. Jumper stared at him.

"You’re Planet," she said dazedly, and he nodded.

"You’re Jumper." Jumper stared down at the ground. When he guessed she wasn’t going to say anything, Planet continued, "You were here to save Rek? That’s nice!" Was he trying to interrogate her? Maybe, but this was Planet so there was equal chance he was just here to talk...

"Why do you have a cuff on your leg?" she asked, then she looked at Rat, her expression dark. "Are you holding the Three Heart Trio captive as well? Is this your fucked up plan?" she demanded, and Rat raised his hands, ready to defend himself, but Planet beat him to the punch.

"Oh, I have the cuff because I’m bad at chess and Bacon won’t play on my behalf."

Bacon, still in the moss nest, spoke up. "You’ve gotta at least try first, I’ll do it when you learn the basic rules."

Planet turned around, now starting a well-worn argument between the two. "I’ll learn chess when they stop promoting a harmful male-centred patriarchal system of oppressive royalism!" he declared.

"You can’t play chess like checkers!" Bacon shot back, exasperated.

"I’ll do what I want!" Planet answered, petulant and dedicated to his cause.

Jumper turned back to Rat, her brows knit. Rek came over, the cuff on his ankle nearly hindering his movement. It was odd, in a place of nature and grass and flowing rivers, for his silver chain to drag through the moss. He smiled at Jumper.

"I’m glad you came," he told her sincerely, but she just stared at his ankle cuff.

"What the fuck?" she asked, and Rek laughed.

"I’m going to be honest, I don’t think anyone in this room knows." He looked at Rat, who was letting the moment play out. "Not even the guy in charge." Jumper turned to Rat, who shrugged.

"The cuff is more of a formality," he told her, and Jumper just looked around.

She breathed in and closed her eyes. When they opened, they sparkled behind her sunglasses. "I think you have something," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Rat cocked his head.

"What?" he asked, and Jumper smiled. She turned to him and really spoke her mind.

"I think you’ve found something I almost forgot," she said, but Rat still had no idea what she was on about. Rek, however, smiled.

"Yeah, he does, or at least in some way he does." Rek looked at Rat. "Were you an admin?" he asked, and Rat shrugged.

"Yeah, but none of the commands work here," he told Rek, confused. Rek nodded.

"Figures," he said, and Rat asked why. Rek hummed for a moment. "You like bringing people together, you like making people part of something bigger." He looked Rat dead in the eye, his soft blue eyes sparkling like no eye could in the city proper, filled with hope and determination and mischief. "You’re trying to conquer a city," his voice filled with mirth, "only an admin would do that," he told Rat, who shrugged.

Jumper jumped in. "You’re an admin, but you don’t have op..." She looked around at the room. "But you’ve still got..." She trailed off, looking lost… So very lost. Rat frowned at her confusion.

"I’ve still got what?" he prompted, and Jumper turned to him fully, head on, her shoulders set, her brows furrowed.

"Magic. You’ve still got magic." She bit her lip. "How the fuck did you get all that without op?" she asked, incredulous. Rat smiled.

"I’ve been told some people are calling me a god," he told her, and she snorted.

"Oh, some people have," she mocked, and Rat shrugged.

"I’m not, but well, I’m not telling just yet how I pulled all this off."

Jumper sighed and looked at Rek, who smiled at her encouragingly. He would back her no matter what. Rat had a feeling he would struggle to stop them from leaving if she decided she wanted to - Rek was the renowned escape artist, after all.

"I want in," Jumper said, and Rat started to smile.

"Deal."

He answered without question, without test or trial, straight off the back of a betrayal, because really...

Why not?

Notes:

Yeah, I was at another music festival... sorry for the wait, I should have the next one up in a short while. I speed edited this one and should be done soon, it is currently 2am though so...

Chapter 15

Notes:

*drags fic into the room*

eat up losers, I am EXASTED and have finished my CV. Shit is looking up :D

Rat now held a somewhat regular schedule - or, well, he was at Spawn every day for at least ten minutes, same place, same time. It was easy to ambush him there, but he was also easier to find for smaller, petty reasons. Today he had stood at Spawn and quelled a dispute over a sword, managed to give directions to a wide-eyed new arrival, a small cat hybrid who called himself Pili.

Rat was about to head out, all duties upheld, but he stopped himself. A feeling inexplicable as it was expected crept down his spine - he was being watched, and the eyes were unsure what they wanted yet.

Rat, deciding not drawing attention was the best move, only froze for a second, going about his routine as quickly as he could. The feeling of being tracked followed him across rooftops and down alleys. He didn’t go to any of his hidden bases, instead choosing to interact with Zam on a roof, send Pangi to run checks with Hannah, and eventually he had had enough.

Mapicc came rushing past, looked at him funny, then gasped. “That’s your annoyed face!” he cheered like it was a place for celebration. Rat glowered at him.

“What do you want?” he asked, not wanting to deal with the pyromaniac. Mapicc scrunched his nose and glanced around. “I’ll tell you-” His eyes locked onto a specific shadow and his smile soured some. “Later, I’ll tell you later.”

He then gave Rat a significant look and booked it off the roof.

Rat sighed. So he had to get rid of his stalker to be able to move on with his life. Perfect. He sighed heavily.

“You can come out,” he said, and he felt more than heard the stranger tense up. “I know you’re there, I’ve known since the docks.”

Seconds passed in silence, then a slow applause. “Okay, so you got me,” an unfamiliar voice intoned. Rat turned - not quickly, just casually - to see who had spoken. It was Leowook, one of Clown’s loyal little attack dogs, an enforcer.

“What do you want?” Rat asked. He was in a bad mood, okay. Mapicc had picked up on it, and this fucker was at least half to blame. The other half was just Rat being a bit grouchy, but still.

“Oh?” Leo asked, as if he weren’t the one stalking Rat. “Do I get my three wishes?” he quipped, and Rat groaned.

“Despite some theories I am not a genie,” he brushed off, baring his teeth at Leo. “No, I ask because you’ve been stalking me, and I’d like to know why.” Rat spoke far more casually than he honestly was.

"Well because you asked nicely," Leo began, pausing dramatically in his sentence. Rat cocked his head. "I wanted to see if I could join up with you." Rat internally soured and plummeted because what. "I was interested in seeing if I could settle a score while being in your service."

And now Rat's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?" he asked, and Leo shrugged.

"I think everyone's guessed you took the three-heart trio," he told Rat, who begrudgingly nodded. Leo grinned like he was winning at cards. "Well, I know the game you're playing with Clown" - good because Rat had no clue - "and I wanted in. I wanna help take down Flame."

Rat stared at him. He blinked long and slow. What?

"He almost perma killed me in my early days," Leo explained, but Rat was still so lost. "And I know he won't go down without insurmountable odds." Rat was putting the pieces together and he still wasn’t sure. "I wanted to help rig the game - also turn away from the jester, of course."

He smiled at Rat, who shuffled awkwardly. "Don't you work for Clown?" he asked, confused. Leo shrugged, his smile just a little too wide, manic energy dancing just behind.

"I think I know the tides of war," he told Rat matter-of-factly. "I would rather keep my life by the end of it." He gestured to the city at large. "When you live in a city like this, you choose the biggest, scariest guy to hide behind." He sighed a little. "But you offered something..." He trailed off. Rat was offering a home, not a bunk, but a team, and Leo wanted in - and who was he to refuse - but really...

"Flame is on my side," Rat told Leo, who was taken aback.

"What?" he gasped. "But the three-heart trio?" he asked, so blatantly confused, and Rat shrugged, lifting his hands in a universal gesture of 'what you gonna do?'

"Do you still want to join?" he asked, then smiled. "If you leave, I will use your proposed betrayal as blackmail." But sadly Leo did not look scared.

He just sighed. "No revenge for me, I guess." He then looked at Rat, slouched a little, and smiled. "I'm not taking it back though. Clown's losing people faster than he can kill deserters off." Rat's brows rose, so Leo could see the way the wind was blowing. His voice then went a lot softer. "I also heard you'd recruited Hannah."

Rat frowned at him. Leo was known for being unashamed and bold. He was one of a few in the city that Rat struggled to pull blackmail on - possible whispers of him knowing Cube, talk of his work in the fighting rings - but apart from that...

Rat eyed him and saw the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers twitched for his sword. Regret was a thing etched into his bones.

"I regret leaving her the way I did," he said, like this was an expected confession, as if Rat should know this history - and maybe he should, maybe he had missed it, or else Leo thought Rat talked to Hannah about this.

He pursed his lips. He didn’t want to ask, he didn’t want to not know, but maybe mysteries could go untold.

"If you want to talk to her," he sighed, "you should try work with the greenhouses." Simple, easy, quick. "Come on, I need you to fill out so much paperwork."

Either Leo was a plant or he was a deserter. In any case, he wasn’t getting to know all Rat's secrets - certainly not have any sway in the army - but he would get work, get fed, and most of all he would be documented so Rat could get him out as well.

There was time. Rat had nothing but time to figure his escape out, after all.

o0O0o

Rat knew this would happen, but so soon... maybe it was to be expected. The fighting rings were a volatile district already. Wemmbu must feel threatened - Rat controlled his old puppets, and he was upset about it. It would’ve been nice if Flame let him know, or Mane, or even sent one of their men.

Poor Pangi - all he seemed to do these days was run around so he could bring Rat news of one fight or another. Of course, when he found out the fighting rings were having an all-out turf war down at the docks, he dropped everything to rush to Mane and Flame's help. See, teammates and teamwork went both ways, and even if they didn’t invite him, he would go to at least help.

Rat rushes up, but he doesn’t immediately engage. Pangi is on the roof beside him, crouched, surveying. Rat has a hand on his neck, stopping him. "You will not join," he orders, and the look he receives from the pangolin is half glad and half annoyed. "I can fight, you know?" he said, and Rat gave him a semi-judgemental look.

"I know, but if I go down you’re going to have to mobilise the rest of our force." Pangi scrunched his nose but eventually nodded. "Alright," Rat said, glad it was settled, and then he looked back down on the scene.

The fight seemed to be going well. Pangi had claimed they were jumped, which Rat wasn’t going to immediately discredit. Flame's force looked disorganised and disjointed. Mane's entire group was off to the side like they were late arrivals, and they often operated as a unit, so it was just as obvious this was not well put together.

Still, they were winning. Rat looked for the leaders of the war. Rat dropped to street level, still skirting the outsides, slipping through shadows. The sounds of battle drowned him out better than any stealth tool.

Rat could see Flame, a one-man army taking people out, avoiding being overwhelmed by the skin of his teeth. Rat pursed his lips - he could probably go on for some time. Mane was also fighting - he had dropped from two to four feet and was brandishing a sword like it was an extension of himself.

When he walked around normally, he seemed so offside, like he was missing a limb - and now he was fighting, Rat could see in all his glory. Mane was at war with every person that thought they could beat a lion.

Rat watched on, because the real man of the hour, Wemmbu, was not getting on as well as he must’ve wanted. He was near the back, near the water. He was watching more than fighting - no one was focused in on him. In the heat of battle Rat supposed you would fight the person in front, not the leader - or, well, the leaders were supposed to duel, but both Mane and Flame were preoccupied.

Wemmbu was losing, and he knew it. His men were falling fast, and they were going to be outnumbered fast. He was flicking his eyes about as if searching, or as if checking it was clear. He missed Rat hidden in shadows behind the warring masses.

He slipped sideways along, skirting the outside, moving away... was he running? It wouldn’t be unprecedented - from all Rat knew, Wemmbu was a cowardly soul at heart. He would rather live than admit defeat. But Rat watched on as instead of rushing away, tail tucked between his legs, he approached a peculiar box.

He dropped to his knees and rearranged a wire system so vastly disorganised it must be homemade. Rat watched as he drew away and grinned. Rat knew what was going on.

Fuck you, Wemmbu - explosives were Rat's thing.

Like a bullet, he dove into the crowd, weaving under weapons, deflecting aimless blows. Rat just needed to get to the box. Wemmbu, the overconfident fool, had already backed off - he was going to make some grand entrance... or was it exit? At that point Rat didn’t care. He was going to blow up the dock, the only access to outside stuff. He was not letting Wemmbu do that.

Rat dunked his hands in recklessly. He had built many bombs - he just had to hope his method of jury-rigging these fucks was similar enough to Wemmbu’s, and really there were only so many ways to build a bomb, right? Rat hissed as his nails bit into the soft wires and he felt the way the redstone buzzed under his hand. If he were human, this would hurt - but because of everything he had lived through...

Bombs are not universal, but being bomb-proof to a point was useful in dismantling them. Rat grit his teeth as he pulled a handful of wires out and pressed down on the mechanisms within. It shouldn’t work, it shouldn’t - but he only had so much time to find out. He looked up.

There was a little raised platform for crying or whatever old-timey English shit had been set up for the city before they all moved in. Rat watched in interest.

Wemmbu called attention like he was made for the stage - like this was his point of power, and it probably was. Rat watched in horror and wonder as he commanded the entire crowd to turn as one. "Listen up, you back-stabbing assholes!" His smile was wide and manic. Rat watched from his spot tucked away on the floor.

"Who are you talking about?" Flame asked, incredulous, and was ignored.

"You all left me - no note, no explanation, just abandoned." Grumbles and protests arose, but they also went ignored. "I was left alone to run the rings. Abandoned." He spat the words like they were pure emotion - he had vitriol on his tongue.

"And now you choose to fight me, against me, the one you once teamed with. For what?" A cry of freedom was quickly quelled by his next words. "You are weak in your strength. You are blinded by your power." Wemmbu lifted up the detonator, a stick with a red button.

"Mane, Flame." He said their names like they were scum. "Your childish need to hold onto family ties will be your undoing."

Then he tried to dramatically click the detonator. Silence rang out. Everyone held their breaths. Wemmbu was not one to make an explosives threat empty - if he was going to all this effort, why weren’t they all sky-high right now? He froze and looked around, looked down - but by now Rat was hidden by bodies. He had no idea.

"What?" he asked, and his voice was confused, filled with panic. Rat stood up.

The crowd parted, suddenly aware of his arrival. He held the knot of wires up over his head for them all to see. "Here, Wemmbu," he called, and his eyes locked down onto the modder, narrowed and enraged. "This is my call. Do you heed?" Rat asked - but he knew Wemmbu had no other options. He should back down, he could play clean-up, and this all could be sorted out.

But Wemmbu lived to defy expectation, and with bitter determination filling his lungs, he declared, "I am going down with this fight." The words were spat and seared into the minds of those around him. His men raised their weapons, emboldened, ready to die.

Rat sighed, and once again he flew across the crowd, now guided by his trident’s fire. He landed squarely on Wemmbu, knocking him down and placing the prongs so they pinned his neck either side. Rat was stood over him now as Wemmbu was prone on the floor - he could kill him and show him what going down with a fight really meant.

"You know, it would be a shame," he told Wemmbu, and his brows knit. Rat smiled. "I had Mapicc set up a trap on your bed." He was lying, but Rat was a brilliant liar at the worst of times. "If I kill you now, he won’t stop," he told Wemmbu, his smile condescending. "Then what do you think will happen?"

Flame trudged up behind Rat. He lifted his hand as if to catch his shoulder, then dropped it, thinking better of himself. Everyone believed Rat - of course they would. Rat was known for his madness, he was known for his brutality, he was known for kidnapping and capture and ruthless ‘I get what I want’ mentality.

Flame spoke up, his voice tense, his shoulders held square. "Rat, this is our fight." He said it like it meant something. Rat blinked at him, the trident still squarely pinning Wemmbu to the floor.

"Flame," he said, and Flame winced. He was weary after the throes of battle - of course he was - and Rat never used such a cold voice on him before. It must be unnerving, confusing. "I’m not scared of a little blood." He said it with a confidence he knew was fake but also knew he could hold out on. He saw the way Flame flinched away from him, and for once Rat felt like a god.

Flame, the immortal demon, the monster of the underground, the soldier, the killer, the wild frenzied beast, backed down. Rat bared his teeth in victory. He should not be as threatening as he appeared, but that was the power of pure, unadulterated fear and a willpower to learn how to harness it and use it to better oneself. Rat was scary because he made himself scary - there was nothing intrinsically powerful, after all, he made it all.

And maybe it was Flame backing down, or the mad look in Rat's eyes, maybe it was the way his men were glancing at one another, shifty-eyed. If Flame heeled for the Rat King, what the fuck could they do? If the scariest guy cowered away from the guy you were meant to fight, what threat did you pose?

Wemmbu’s jaw set in a line, his eyes narrowed, filled with hatred and defeat and a million other feelings Rat couldn’t quite decide. "I heed," he sighed, and Rat smiled.

Mapicc was not spawn camping him, but Rat would have hunted and killed him as many times as necessary if he continued being such an inconvenience. He nodded in thanks. The entire fighting ring looked on. Rat was the leader now - they just had to accept it. Rat was the new boss, and they all had to learn how to deal with that. They could fight, sure, but what threat did Rat pose? Clearly a lot, from the way Mane stepped up and sheathed his weapon. He leant in but didn’t clap Rat on the back like he normally would - maybe it was fear, maybe it was respect.

They had to all heed to the new boss now, what that meant they must learn in time.

o0O0o

Rat came into the church expecting the tranquillity and peace it usually harboured and instead walked in on a row. How Prince Zam knew about the church in the first place was anyone's guess - Rat supposed Derapchu may have shown him.

Inside the church, the three heart trio had stayed residents half for its peaceful nature and half because they wanted to prolong the stress felt by the general populous on their whereabouts. Rumours abounded of what they were doing and if Rat had somehow banned them without a death message.

Rat, for his part, didn’t care - but the racket going on in the church might change that.

He walked in on what he could only describe as a disaster unfolding.

Zam was up on the fork in the river around the dais, Bacon was across from him, the trickling water running between them, and they were yelling at each other. On the sidelines, Planet watched with an expression of mild disgust. Beside him, Jaron sat, his back to the drama, knitting...

Rat marched in as Bacon yelled, "Well I’m not the coward who betrayed us all!" His words filled with vitriol - a common theme on Zam's past lovers... "I should have listened to what they said! You’re a runner who never stays." And Rat sighed - another one of Zam's ex-lovers, what the hell.

"Is that what Mapicc said?" Zam spat with glee, his eyes sparking manic. "You’re a bastard!" he yelled. "A bastard, you know that?" He pinwheeled his arms, an expression of his upset, a flourish to his sweeping statements. "You can never see the world from other people’s perspectives!"

He may be about to go on to dissect Bacon for all he’s worth - maybe if they laid their glaring flaws out they would reconcile, maybe they would start a new war. Rat wasn’t interested in that though. He stepped into the river, breaking the flow of water. He was barefoot, the cold water running past his paws.

Both sets of eyes snapped to him. "Can you two shut the fuck up?" he asked, voice dangerously soft and sweet. Both their backs went rigid, watching Rat like he was the biggest threat in the room. Maybe he was, maybe they were paranoid, but he didn’t care.

"Fix your problems quieter," he rolled his hand, "stay out the public spaces, fix your problems yourselves," he ordered condescendingly.

Both Bacon and Zam locked eyes, a silent conversation passing between them. Rat didn’t care. Their eyes flicked back to Rat who stared at them, unimpressed. The water running past his paws was cold and he should probably step out of the river but he didn’t care.

Finally, in unison, voices softer and just a little scared, they conceded. "Yes boss," they intoned in unison. Silence carried on after that. Rat just stared from his spot in the river until Zam cleared his throat. Awkwardly, he extracted himself from the church, walked out spine straight - he didn’t look back, though he twitched like he wanted to.

Bacon stayed still for a few more moments before he unfroze and robotically walked over to the three heart trio's cubbyhole.

Planet hopped up to Rat. He no longer had the cuff, though he had never won a game of chess and still thought protecting the horse was the top priority. Though Rat hadn’t been there for it, the story went he had challenged Derapchu when he had gone 30 hours without sleep. Rat had no idea how he had managed to do that, but he had passed out halfway through the match and Planet won by sheer wakefulness.

From nowhere Derapchu grinned. Rat glanced all around and only just spotted him draped over a beam in the ceiling before he fell down rather gracefully to land with a light splash in his river. Maybe that’s why he built it - for stealth - or maybe Derapchu just liked rivers.

"What?" Rat asked as Derapchu eyed him with a dramatic pout.

"You have made such a bad move there," he griped, spinning on the spot to step out of the river onto dry moss. "You’ve really fucking done it now," he wailed, and Rat looked to Planet who smiled that sweet, slightly air-headed smirk.

"They’re gonna fuck," Derapchu said after Rat's silence was dragged out. Rat frowned and stared at him, brows knit. Derapchu shrugged. "The next three days tops." He laid down the bet like he knew the future, like he was certain of his gamble. Rat blinked some more - from what he saw they were on the end of a relationship filled with turmoil. Three days tops?

But from the small cubby Jaron was tucked into, he groaned loudly, his head tilted back and rested on the moss. He closed his eyes and dropped his project. He must at least agree with Derapchu - or was he pissed he was talking? That was always an option with Derapchu, after all.

But Planet giggled, kicking his feet in the river as he watched them talk. "We might have more time!" he told Derapchu, but he didn’t sound wholly confident, just offering an option. But more time said he still thought it was a given.

Rat shook his head dismissively. "You’re all delusional," he told them with confidence. "Overreacting, I tell you," he mocked, shaking his head. The expressions he received were all over the shot from sceptical to downright judgemental, but Rat just shrugged. He didn’t see shit coming from this apart from a quieter church.

Mid then appeared, stepping out from a rundown hanging bush. Rat was startled so much he almost showed it, looking to Mid who was stretching like she had just gotten up from a nap, but the alertness in her eyes told a different story. "Do you remember what you asked Pangi?" she asked, and Rat frowned. What had he asked Pangi? When had he asked Pangi? What was she on about?

"Yeah, you asked him how many exes Zam has." She bit her lip like she was holding in a laugh. "Thing is, Zam technically has none, he's just in the off part of the on-and-off relationship with most."

Rat blinked at her, the cogs of his mind turning. "Bacon's a stubborn bitch, but-" she gestured at Rat as if he was the answer to an unspoken question. "Telling them to shut up was a bit like their boss going 'I prefer it when you’re together'." She shrugged. "You were telling them to get back together."

Rat blinked, a little shocked, mostly confused. He looked to Planet who shrugged, but before he could ask further questions he heard Bacon pipe up. "Stop talking about me where I can still hear you!" He sounded sulky, and Rat was hit by the inexplicable drive to ruffle his hair and make fun of him.

He restrained himself, but Planet, as always, stepped up, grinning wildly and calling to him a little too loud for the distance. "We’re not wrong!" He sounded giddy, and for once Rat felt the emotion infect him. Planet just had a way of sucking negativity out of the room.

Notes:

I am eepy now but need to go to sleep at a reasonable time my sibling is getting their restults tommorow for a-levels lmao <3 wish them luck <3 (don't they dont care about what ppl on AO3 say (/j))

Chapter 16

Rat found Wemmbu, he never really sought Rat out himself if it was self-preservation or a stubborn dislike Rat didn’t know but he was looking for Wemmbu now, he didn’t even know why. He was complying with Rat’s orders, Rat knew if Wemmbu stepped a toe out of line Flame was ready to kill him, Zam too he had learned.

Wemmbu was holed up in his shitty little converted bungalow, Rat knew of the home after Mane had let it slip. Rat, fascinated, had staked the place out. He didn’t even know why he was bothering Wemmbu, as said he was doing what Rat wanted but he didn’t come to the leaders’ dinners. Some may not want him there, Flame and Zam were just two, Mapicc clearly disliked him and Redd had never said a word on his existence but that was just who Redd was.

But Rat had the time and he was curious? Bored? He had a million and one better jobs to be doing but to leave a citizen, even a reluctant one, without a support network, it was just a bit shitty in Rat’s opinion.

So he only did what a reasonable person would in his situation and picked the lock on Wemmbu’s kitchen window. He didn’t even smash through the glass - see, he can be nice, better than Mapicc who loved to smash through walls like they were papier-mâché.

But alone in a stranger’s kitchen, a stranger he had partial control over, Rat had no idea what he was supposed to do, or why he was here. This felt like all those nights of mindless wandering blindly reaching for a way to help, for a way to make change, and now he was in the kitchen of a man who had once seemed so far up the social ladder.

Rat sighed, he wanted a cup of coffee, fuck it, he was the guest now!

Rat located a pan and with a sigh set up water to boil. He then went and found a stash of coffee and tea packed into a side cupboard. He rather disconcertedly poured the coffee into a mug he lifted from the counter and washed out with a huff.

He had just poured the cup and was leant against the side taking a sip of the slightly strange tasting liquid when Wemmbu came into his own kitchen and froze. He looked at Rat, who was casually leant up, his scythe at his side, hands wrapped around the mug, and he blinked long and slow.

Rat watched back, curious how he would react to the situation.

"You must feel," he said slowly, stepping a little closer then backing off unsure how to act in his own home, his voice though was filled with contempt, "like such a big shot." He spat the words, nose scrunched up.

Rat blinked at him slowly, saw the anger and the hidden fear beneath. He was the king of the city - if Rat so decided he could have Wemmbu killed for that. He stood in the little kitchen in the dim light and watched Wemmbu stand his ground, defiant and strong. This was his space Rat had invaded and for what? His eyes slid over the space again.

It was so empty, everyone in the city had to go on little to no resources but it was starkly noticeable in Wemmbu's kitchen with blank grey walls and dusty kitchen appliances. Why did everyone hate Wemmbu so much? He was a maniac but so were most people - to end up here, to survive, you had to lose a lot of what made you sane.

Was it who he was? Digging under skin to find insecurities to pick apart at the seams of who other people were, from what he had heard Wemmbu was a manipulator, a powerful entity with much skill in the art of command.

But that was it, all Rat had heard about was that he was a lying backstabber who was better off on your side than against you. He was a burden and a commodity, not a person, never a person. Not a single other soul knew who Wemmbu was.

"How long have you been stuck in the city?" Rat asked, the quiet kitchen echoing his words a thousand times. Wemmbu froze, staring at him and his misplaced empathy, his eyes narrowed then expanded, his jaw worked in awkward circles. When he didn’t answer, Rat dug a little deeper because he had never heard anyone outside the city waiting for Wemmbu's return, though he knew he was not known by anyone. "Do you have anyone to go home to?"

His words dug deep, cut like a blade to flesh as Wemmbu tensed up, eyebrows knitting, eyes narrowing, nose scrunching up.

Wemmbu had nothing to return to, nothing on the outside.

The city was his home, the power systems he had twisted himself to work within were comforting - a velvet lining to a tattered cage. Rat watched as Wemmbu struggled to figure out what to say or how to act, he just was, for a few long moments frozen to the spot.

Wemmbu said nothing, but really that was all he needed to say as Rat stared him down, his face soft and open while Wemmbu flashed a million thoughts flitting past his eyes a second. He tensed and untensed in a rhythm unknown to Rat.

"I'll find you something," Rat said finally, "something on the outside." Wemmbu's brows knit at his short words - a declaration Rat wasn’t sure he could keep but would 100% try. "You just need to trust me," because that was everything in the city of stolen lives - trust was a game, a threat, a promise and a peril. Trust was not easily given, never taken, and always earned. Trust should not be abused, but it was broken so easily.

Wemmbu stood frozen by the door.

Rat put the cup down, he had barely taken a sip after all, just enjoyed the warmth. He suddenly didn’t feel the need to drink caffeine, he felt the need to find out a new way to bend or stretch the code. Maybe this time he would have a breakthrough, maybe this time he could save them all.

Rat brushed past the ex-leader of the combat district and wasn’t even given resistance. He left through the front door, not scared of traps. Wemmbu didn’t watch him leave but still Rat felt followed. He hoped the coffee would be seen as a peace offering - he made it exactly how Wemmbu liked his coffee, far less sweet than Rat's own preferred beverage. He had asked Flame before he arrived.

He would make the city right, he would make the server and then stupid rules and everything that got in his way right. He just had to survive.

o0O0o

Derapchu sat next to Rat in the church. People were off doing their own thing. Mid was in the vines cutting back the unexpected growth. Planet was playing what Rat had to assume was Uno with Jaron. Bacon was out as far as Rat could tell. He didn’t really know where Rek was - he was still cuffed up somewhere in the jungle of tree roots and soft leaves - but it wasn’t important to him in that moment.

Derapchu seemed bored of the silence or maybe he had been preparing to talk to Rat all along. He was plucking something up as he sat up straighter and turned with a set jaw to Rat.

"It's almost the end of winter," he told Rat with a confidence Rat could see was faked. He leaned forwards, eyes ablaze with curiosity. "What are you going to do now?" And of course Derapchu asked, because he was always so curious about what Rat was planning and where he was going from the beginning, when Rat chased him out of the church with a broom. Derapchu was eager to help, to guide Rat through the city. All he wanted in return was a scrap of what was going on - he always just wanted to help.

Rat leaned back on his palms and looked at the roof, past his artificial greenhouse, the fake sun and the soft branches, up to the cold stone now entwined by hanging roots. He contemplated what he had done so far - united so many, conquered far more - and he thought on what was yet to be done: escape, find freedom, find revenge and more.

He looked at Derapchu with bright eyes and a curious smile. He didn’t know what he was thinking on right now. "I'm going to take over," he told Derapchu, because that was what needed to happen next in his grand plan. He needed the city united under his army. They could have petty squabbles, but he needed all the players to do as he dictated.

Derapchu gave him a look halfway reproachful, halfway curious.

"All you have to do is beat Clown's circus," he said, and he almost sounded mirthful, but Rat knew Derapchu was shit scared of the infamous jester. "What are you going to do after this all gets sorted?" he asked. He pressed, dug his nails in, wanting to know, wanting to understand.

Rat considered, thoughts so big, so impossible to explain. He stared at the church once more, when he decided he had been quiet too long, when he decided to move the conversation to something he could talk about, Rekrap came trotting up, his chain trailing over roots and cracked stone. By his side, Jumper skipped, her smile wide and carefree.

"Hey, you two!" Rek greeted, chipper as ever even in captivity - or well, it wasn’t really captivity, but Rat let it be. "What you talking about?" he asked and promptly shifted so he half fell, half laid himself to the floor, his legs tucked under him criss-cross.

Rek and Jumper had a little spot of the church all to themselves for privacy, and also because Rat felt bad enough having kidnapped the poor man. But they were never isolated, often hanging out with the other occupants easily. Derapchu smiled at Rek.

"Oh, you know, Rat's city domination plans." He smiled at Rat with a knowing look. Rat just crunched up his nose - he didn’t need to be smug about it, he should fear Rat!

Rek moved slightly and Rat noticed his cuff once more. Realistically, he shouldn’t have to wear it. He was perfectly behaved and willing to play hostage - keeping the untrappable man prisoner would be a fool’s game, and Rat was not a fool.

However, from what Rat understood, Rek hadn’t taken his off due to principle. Rek could play chess, but apparently he couldn’t beat Derapchu, who wasn’t really all that good. Rat found it endlessly funny personally. Planet had won by manipulation, though Bacon would’ve played for him if he really asked. Rek had no such chance - Bacon didn’t like him nearly enough to win for him, especially because he was out right now.

So, cuff he kept on, even if it was symbolic at this point.

"He wants to commit a little world domination," Rek agreed with a ready smile. Rat frowned at him. Okay, are they all messing with him or are they taking him seriously? Because he just needs to know.

Derapchu answered the question quick with a wicked grin. "Problem is, he doesn’t know what to do after beating up Clown. World domination is kinda hard when you’ve beaten everyone."

Rek’s brows shot up, but Rat just casually bonked Derapchu over the back of the head. "Shut up, I said nothing of the sort." Well, maybe not said, but eh. Derapchu just pouted and didn’t rebuke him, so that was at least convenient.

Rat turned to Rek with a dismissive huff. Derapchu acted all offended in the background as he spoke to Rekrap directly. "So your boss Clown" - because while they were on the topic, he may as well pick their brains - "any idea why he wanted to take you and not Branzy?"

It had been something he was curious about for a while, the thing he saw in the warehouse and the fact Branzy had no position of power in Clown's system - the way he clung to the most deadly man in the city, the way Clown clung back.

He had questions and no way to bring them up.

"Oh yeah, it's an open secret," Rek said all casual and nonchalant. Rat scrunched up his face in confusion and Rek shrugged. He gestured vaguely at what Rat had to assume was an approximation of what Clown and Branzy had going on. "It's hard to explain," he elaborated with an expression of thoughtfulness. "Clown only really runs the casino to keep Branzy safe." He said it like it meant something big, and for people who had been here a while it must. Clown could live in the woods, run the city, but no - he had the casino, but for Branzy? Why was that?

Jumper thankfully stepped in, making it so Rat didn’t have to ask. She smiled, too many teeth on display, as she leant against Rek in her dramatics. "Oh, the love story of the deranged killer and the masochist fool." She wiggled her eyebrows. "It would be romantic if you ignored all the red flags."

Rat watched, bemused, as the two playfully shoved one another. "Yeah, their relationship is a bit... odd," Rek said easily once the push fight - that was so short-lived - ended with Jumper victorious and Rek bent slightly with her draped on his back. He looked up at Rat. "You know they both remind me of dogs." He said it so matter-of-fact, like this was a normal observation. Rat frowned, confused, but Jumper nodded along.

"Branzy and Clown," Jumper mulled. "Clown and Branzy." She looked to Rek, her eyes sparked. Obviously now she was performing, telling a story - Rat had learned Jumper loved to weave a good tale and with this she was just as ready as ever. "Branzycraft has been forced to work for the killer Clown," her voice dropped to a whisper, "but rumour has it Clown works for Branzy just as much."

Rek laughed and shook his head, giving a more direct explanation. "Branzy has to be in touch with his emotions. Clown rejects his." He shrugged, nonchalant. "It's how they work - keeping up with everything, Clown needs to lean on someone."

Jumper’s eyes lit up like she saw an opportunity for more storytelling. "There's leaning on someone and then there's what Clown and Branzy have." She leant in conspiratorially, her smile growing as Derapchu leant in as well. He looked invested and like he was going to laugh as Jumper performed the story for them.

"Branzy sees Clown as a deity of protection," she breathed out. "Wherever he goes, Clown will not be far off - always ready to fight to the death on Branzy's behalf." Her smile grew sad. "But he had to pay a price for this never-ending guarding." Rat thought about the fear in the warehouse, the way he stood in the ocean of blood and was clutched like a teddy bear. "Clown clings to Branzy," her words echoed his thoughts. "Clown sees Branzy as the only person to ever stay."

Rek's smile grew somber like he was thinking. "You know I introduced them to each other," he said sadly. "I didn't want to, I don't think it's good for either of them."

Jumper waved her hand, brushing Rek off. "What are you talking about?" she asked incredulously. "Branzy is Clown's therapy dog, Clown is Branzy’s guard dog." She rolled her eyes. "They’re both insane, they were practically made for each other."

Rek smiled sadly. "That's why they probably should be kept apart."

And Rat guessed that was why Clown had wanted to hold onto Branzy so hard it clouded his judgements.

Branzy clouded Clown's judgement...

Interesting.

o0O0o

Rat had an idea, a worm that wouldn’t stop tickling his mind. After Rek and Jumper had lit the fire and Deraochu had happily poured gasoline on the flames, none of them knew what they had woken up.

Rat had an army and though Clown was good - better even - Rat knew exactly where to strike to make him hurt.

Rat just needed a few more details. It took only a little hunting to find Leo. He was in Mapicc's office sat on his desk, and Mapicc paced circles around him. Rat slipped in, grabbed Leo by the scruff, and dragged him out before Mapicc even noticed he was there at all.

Leo did not go quietly, kicking and fighting, a paw pinned over his mouth. "Stay fucking silent," Rat ordered, his voice threatening, and Leo thankfully went limp. Moving him was far easier and he was in an empty, barren area in no time. Leo stood across from Rat, dragging in greedy mouthfuls of air as he stared at Rat with apprehension.

"Hi, what the fuck?" he asked, voice hoarse, and Rat flashed a predatory grin.

"Hi Leo, just wanted to ask-" Leo's face scrunched up in distaste at Rat's lack of explanation or, well, anything. "Yeah, where would I find Clown's bed?" he asked, and Leo went a little straighter. He looked at Rat now like he was a threat and breathed in a short breath.

"I don't know." Like a whip, Rat was at his throat again, pinning him to the wall. Leo went limp this time, taking the abuse like he was used to it, his head dropped, his eyes averted. He was displaying hybrid submissive traits and Rat didn't know why, but he quickly released and Leo stayed slumped against the wall where Rat had pinned him.

"Any information that could help my hunt?" Rat asked, and Leo kept his eyes dropped. "Maybe try following Branzy?" he offered. "He and Clown, I think they share a bed."

Rat frowned, eyes narrowed. It could well be a bluff, but he had nothing else, and a reputable source - or well, whatever Rek and Jumper were - had already told him how weird they were.

Them sharing a bed and that banality sounded alright enough.

"Okay Leo," Rat said, and Leo ducked minutely lower as if ready to be struck. "Thank you for your cooperation." Rat then spun and left. Leo stayed alone in the room. He was the boss and Rat was scary - a dictator, a warmonger - maybe it was all for fun, but Rat could mould the people of the city. Respected him. He needed to be feared to conduct real power.

Mapicc passed him in the hall, his brows knit. "You, Rat!" he said, jogging up. Rat stopped, smiling warmly. "You seen Leo? He dipped in the middle of a conversation."

Rat shrugged. "Maybe try the barracks?" he offered, and Mapicc frowned. "Sure, why would he be there though?" Rat left before he could finish the question. It would be interesting to find out if Leo told Mapicc or if he would keep this to himself.

Was this a test? No. Was this a theory? Close enough.

Rat hunted Clown, the thing Minute and Rek had claimed couldn’t be done, the thing Leo quaked at the thought of, the thing that would be a death wish for anyone else.

Rat just had to dose up invisibility and slowly slip around the edge of the city. He hunted Branzy like a bloodhound and found him in a workshop, nondescript, close to the heart of the casino district. For hours he watched, and maybe one day Branzy would be an amazing modder. Maybe one day, when they left, Rat could ask how he got the spring light in the tiny watch to work with multiple colours without any real equipment. Maybe one day.

But first he needed to catch Clown.

And Clown appeared in his glory four hours after Rat had hunkered down on a rooftop.

He leant into Branzy's space, stole his breath and his invention with a pantomime laugh from behind his mask.

They danced around each other for a while, they played with Branzy's inventions. Clown carelessly tossed blood-encrusted knives on the bench - from the way Branzy restrained from recoiling and then desperately crowded in to look, Rat knew this match was made in crazy and both were perfect for one another, no matter what Rek thought.

He watched them leave the workshop, walk a complicated path. Rat almost lost them but... But- but, he didn’t and he was so glad. A manhole cover hidden beneath the city streets - Rat followed them down as quiet as his namesake, eyes keen in the dark. He followed the echo of footsteps on the walls of the corridor, Clown's little bells were making more noise than they had before.

Then they were going up a ladder and inside a house they entered. Rat waited for a half hour before following, and he was shocked to find a totally normal apartment decorated red and black and purple. A vase of lavender flowers half-wilted sat on the windowsill and this was just a house.

Rat sighed. Of course Clown had a complicated entrance to his totally nondescript house.

Rat had an army to organise, a war to win, and now he had all the tools.

He slipped away from them then - he knew Clown's spawn and he had direct line of sight to the docks. It was perfect, he could watch it all unfold and he could, in a few well-placed moves, control the narrative of the night.

Rat ordered his army. He called upon Flame and Mane and Zam and Mapicc. He put together a force of elite soldiers. He secured Mapicc, sent Jepex to call off Minute, he sent Leo a withering warning.

Everyone folded, no one stood in his way. Rat was a leader on a warpath and no one wanted to receive his wrath in the meantime.

That night he slept in the church, the curious eyes of Derapchu following him. All he told Rat when he gave him an evaluative glance and Derapchu shrivelled back was a wry, "You're planning again, I think I know what."

Rek and Jumper never questioned him, never left their spots. Rek played Jaron at chess and won, Derapchu then beat him and Rat knew he was stealing the pieces but Rek seemed oblivious.

Rat was ready to win a war, kill a god - really, he wasn’t scared of it anymore. He had a fight set for Clown on the shoreline come the dawn, he had his armies facing the casino, his men ready, and Rat was not present.

Mapicc stepped up to the plate, he looked at the building Rat claimed was Clown's headquarters, the building that was his bed, and he had Mapicc call.

"Come out coward and fight for your district."

The army cheered and the voices echoed. Flame and Mane, ever the monoliths, stayed silent as tension bubbled. Rat watched from a rooftop far off, behind Clown's house, away from the fight.

Clown did not take the threat - the call to arms - lying down.

He came down from rooftops, no one expected him to be tucked away. He appeared in the city street like a shadow grown humanity and his mask was bright in the morning light. He raised to look at Mapicc, slow and steady.

The sharp teeth and the piercing eyes of the pained monstrosity struck fear like nothing could compare.

"Hello Mapicc," he greeted, and Mapicc stood tall. "I see you chose the losing side," he spoke with a sad detachment. Mapicc didn’t speak to him, he just stared him down. "Or maybe I will be the one to lose."

"How are we going to do this?" Mapicc asked, and the army held its breath. Bloodshed was so close, victory so hard to achieve. A warrior, a thing of myth, a creature of legend was stood at their knife’s point - to be gutted, to be shown the light.

Maybe that was the punishment of being the best, of being the strongest - you were hunted and tormented, forced to defend a crown of pointless power. All just conjecture and half-truths.

Here in the city of stolen lives, Clown drew his sword. An army seemed like a worthy opponent.

Rat watched from his rooftop as his army converged on the killer. He knew not a single man fighting was on their last life - he was going to have them all get out of the city, for every one fallen Clown would be waiting, his strength.

A war was not won by skill or intensity - this at least was won by sheer force.

Flame and Mane hung back. Zam's men buffeted Clown as fighting pits soldiers cracked knuckles, all converging on a single target. Rat had rigged the fight, he had won the war, and maybe Clown always knew it. He didn’t seem to care - he fought like a weapon and lifted his body above it all.

Rat hated the fact that without mods, even with all his men, he may not have won - but here the doom of Clown was called upon.

He didn’t like giving modded weapons out, but to his army he would pour every trick he had up his sleeve - and how dangerous the entourage he led could be with his carefully distributed weapons.

Mapicc drew his sword, spilling fire from its blade in an arc. He drew knives like kisses on soft skin to send a barrage of flicking hatred and burning fury at the unsuspecting Clown. He danced like a master away from the tool, dodged blades and ducked arrows from the crowd around. He scaled a pole to catch his breath, only to be confronted by Flame.

He stood on top of the pole looking down at Clown. How he had gotten up there was a mystery, but as he towered poised, Clown knew he was in for death and nothing he did could stop it. Nonetheless, he never went down without a fight.

The weapon Flame drew was far more subtle. He did not bear a sword but knuckle dusters imbued with searing iron that would not cut his flesh to ribbons but could and would destroy anything laid before them. He dropped down and set his knuckles in the centre of Clown's mask.

The porcelain cracked, the flesh beneath exposed, but the two parts stayed on his face. Clown collapsed down to the thronging masses. He brawled and busted, thrown off by the loss of his mask but ready to kill again.

Still the war rolled on. Mane was the one to lay the killing blow when Clown was knocked by one soldier and another caught his landing and was put out for it. Mane cleared a path so they were insular again - just them, one on one.

"You will be better off for this, bro," he told Clown, who spat blood on the pavements at his feet. His hair, longer than anyone expected, masked his expression. Mane squared up. He hadn’t wanted a weapon - he claimed Rat didn’t have to - but Rat had made him something, a simple crown of gold that hid perfectly under his lion head hood. This crown gave him the ability to see all the way around him. He used it now, giving Clown blind spots only to dance around and around in a dizzying display of power over all. Clown was doomed.

o0O0o

Mid stood on the roof to the side, her galaxy sword pulsed as she pulled it down to look at Rat, reflected in the blade. "That all, Rat?" she asked, and Rat fingered his own dagger, twinkled the galaxy starry pattern.

"That's all, Mid. He should be waking up soon."

He put the dagger away. His men were perfect, his army was good. Those who fell would wake up warm and safe - and hopefully in a fully united city.

Rat peered through the window.

Inside was a bed. Rat watched as a body formed, slow and steady, and then his vision was blocked as Branzy rushed in. He didn’t even pause upon seeing Clown - he fell on the bed and curled close. Clown formed, clutching Branzy, both melded so close Rat couldn’t tell who began and who ended. Rat watched in awe.

Words were exchanged as Branzy rocked the frozen body beside him. Clown's face, fully exposed, Rat could tell he looked shocked... maybe scared. He looked unlike the fearsome warrior Rat had been told about - and wasn’t that what he had been banking on?

Clown was not all bark, no bite, but he was still a man after all. Not a god or a chosen one, not a modder or even an admin. Rat reminded himself of the great Technoblade but quickly brushed it off - he had been chosen by a god in the end after all.

Clown was alone.

Not a slight against him - in fact he was not alone, he had a loyal dog in Branzy - but he was still human. A human can be tricked, a human can be killed.

Rat smashed in the window, and Clown was up. He had Branzy tucked behind him, a dagger out, ready to fight. Rat stared him down. He looked so powerful, he looked so weak. He looked like a man who had lost it all, a man who had only one thing left to lose. He looked...

Rat couldn’t live his whole life in his head. He crooked his lips up into a smile. "Hello again, Clown," he said, and Clown looked enraged.

"What do you want?" he spat the question, and Rat's eyes drifted to Branzy, who was trying hard to minimise his presence. "You can’t have Branzy," he growled.

Rat shook his head placatingly, as always being as gentle as he could. "No, I don’t want Branzy," he said, and Clown's brows furrowed.

"Then what?" he asked, and now he was confused. Rat smiled gently - less sly, more genuine. Or, well, as genuine as he could. Rat was never made for comfort after all.

"I wanted to make you an offer." Clown's distrust grew. "Aren’t you tired?" Rat asked, and Branzy twitched, but Clown moved to cover him more. A low growl grew in his throat, ruminating in his chest as he glared at Rat.

"I can give you peace. True peace," he offered, and Clown snapped.

He raised his sword, ready for a fight. "I don’t want it," he answered, angry and loud. Branzy flinched back, but Clown didn’t seem to know - how would he? Branzy was behind him after all.

Rat had this under control though he leant forwards, looked at Clown, his brows furrowed. "I have you cornered," he told Clown matter of fact. "I took down your army, your inner circle" - he gestured at Clown and Branzy - "you stand alone now. I have Minute and Leo, I have Jumper and Rek and now..." he trailed off, looking at Clown and then Branzy, then the window. "This is the way that it is now."

He told Clown, who was still so scared, so shocked. He had been losing for a while. "I don’t want to kill you," he said simply, the threat went unsaid. Clown deflated and Rat sighed.

He leant against the windowsill, brushed the glass away so he didn’t cut himself, then perched and watched the couple.

"So you’ve taken everything?" he asked, and Rat shrugged.

"I didn’t want to," he lied, and Clown laughed, obviously seeing through him but Rat didn’t care. "I never really wanted to be the one to hurt everyone," Rat said, and that rang true, "but someone had to."

Clown looked to Branzy - looked to him truly. He turned his back on Rat and gave his heart to Branzy, who smiled at him, eyes fixed on him instead of the awful situation around them.

"You’re a killer," Branzy said, and he smiled, his eyes scrunched at the sides beautifully. "I’m a killer," he said, soft as you can be. "Maybe give him a chance to prove he can be worthy of this all."

Rat was interested in what Clown would do. Clown, it seemed, was thinking for a few long seconds, then he sighed. "Can I have a weapon?" he asked, and Rat was a little surprised, but for a system built on violence and trust that seemed fair enough.

Rat hummed. "What like?" he asked, curious what Clown would ask for.

"Your scythe," he said simply, and Rat stopped. He thought about the trusty weight on his back that had gone less used as he fell back into his comfortable weapon of a trident. He looked at Clown and realised the way he held a sword was wrong, off balance.

He reached up and lifted his weapon. Clown turned to stare at him and readied his sword, but Rat just held it out, blade facing himself. "You can have it," he said simply, and Clown stared.

"Just like that?" he asked, confused. Rat shrugged.

Clown stared him down just a moment more. "Clown," Branzy said his name, and he turned to Branzy. "I think it’s time to see what this strange new system has in store." He looked over at Rat, and his eyes sparkled, and Rat realised all of a sudden - Branzy was the one he needed to convince in that alleyway at the beginning. All he had had to do was convince the loyal dog because really, Clown was the dog.

"I don’t believe in your true peace," Clown said, looking Rat dead in the eye, his hair no longer covering most of his face, no mask to hide behind now. He was a strange individual to look at. "I can’t change, I don’t see there being such a thing in the end." He sighed and reached for his bare hand, skin exposed. "But I’ll give it all a go," he said, and he took the weapon from Rat.

Branzy smiled at Rat, the one he should’ve been convincing the entire time. But he’s here now, so what? He knew for the future.

Notes:

Me updateing in time o.o never happend before impossibe <3 welp here's yr grub :D

Chapter 17

Leo was scared, and for what? Seeing Hannah again? After what he did... maybe he was right to be scared. He had been putting it off, Clown had been defeated, he had signed up to work with the greenhouses but still he avoided her, he was... stupid really.

He sat on the roof, far off Rat watched, he watched a recruit he didn’t know well break down on the edge and he was already ready to rush up and help him, he knew Leo was on at least seven hearts - he had made a dedicated effort to get everyone to at least seven after all - but still you could take them so quick.

But thankfully while he was slow to move someone else was by his side, her hands caked in dirt, her smile a little strained, she stood behind him over his shoulder, Leo still leaking tears, so lost, looked up.

His eyes zeroed in on Hannah and he shrunk back closer to the edge. That was when Hannah did something Rat hadn’t expected - she grabbed Leo by the scruff of the neck and hauled him back one-handed, she yelled something about 'idiot fools' her words lost to the wind.

Rat watched and Leo cried more and the whispered words he hiccupped out were impossible to hear but from the rigid line of Hannah's spine he knew that the words wrung true.

Hannah stayed strong for several moments as he poured his heart out into the whistling wind and then she also cracked, careless of the edge she crumpled down and hung her legs over the edge, she fell backwards and sprawled on the ground beside Leo, she sighed.

Rat couldn’t hear a word they said. But for once he didn’t mind. Let them keep their little moment of contact that can’t be explained.

A bond of love like a ship’s anchor was exactly what they needed, he was glad they had had it all along. He didn’t know Leo and he didn’t know Hannah but he knew love and it was good to hold on.

o0O0o

Rat held his weekly meeting, this was the first time Clown was invited and he approached it like he was walking into a trap, of course he did - everything so far had seemed like a trap from someone who didn’t know kindness like Rat could give.

Rat was beginning to wonder how many shit admins these people had had if their treatment of leadership was abject fear, or maybe it was the city itself that had done this.

He had them meet in the fighting district, a trek for Red and Mapicc but it put Clown close to home and meant Rat could ask Wmmbu, of course he refused, still reluctant to be in a room with Flame, and Rat let him.

He had enough disastrous duos after all.

Rat came into the room Zam had found, it was at an old restaurant, one that had somehow lasted through the past two wars and regimes. It was run by a pleasant jackal hybrid who, upon Zam's request, put them up in the backroom without question.

Zam and Mapicc were already there, they were chatting animatedly. Zam was sitting just a little too close to Mapicc, Red was also there but he was observing the duo with a level of distaste. Flame came in after Rat and, bringing up the end, Clown traipsed in, head ducked, mask fully strapped on. Rat was pleased to see he wore Rat's scythe across his back, a reaper - he looked right with the weapon.

They all wore his weapons now, Mapicc and his fire sword, Flame and his knuckle busters, Mane and his golden sight, and then Red and Zam who each got a little more subtle tools.

Red had a feature in his sunglasses that told him a player's game tag, what data Rat could glean from their locked accounts and their heart level. Zam had a rather basic upgrade however, embedding throwing stars in his crown he could remove, and each acted like a potion - it was too cool for Rat to pass up.

Now all his council men had upgrades and Clown, after dithering at the door, sat down next to Flame. Rat took the head of the table, Red faced him at the other end and the two pairs sat either side.

They talked business at first, easy updates, how the greenhouses in their dedicated area were doing. It was just leaving winter so obviously they flourished, and then they talked medicine - who was ill, who needed help, were there any disputes, was Rat needed to keep the peace?

The conversation lapsed after a while when the important stuff was covered, and them skipping pleasantries overall. Red talked about Ash and was promptly catcalled by Zam and Mapicc. Mapicc was then put under scrutiny for his shit with Roshambo, there was a distinct moment where Flame mentioned Mane and Bacon and Zam went still.

It was all relaxed, a little silly, Rat could watch and just learn. His people were here, his second in command, all of them running an aspect of his city, and really that was what the stupid server had become - Rat's domain. The power of mods and food and medicine and kindness really won in the end - that and gratuitous violence, but who was counting.

Eventually the conversation sombered, as it almost always did with people like these foolish few who had survived in the city far too long. Flame was the least experienced, excluding Rat, and he had been in the city for over a year.

He looked tired, they all did. They talked of lost fallies who had fallen, cut down to their last life and then lost. They talked of sickness that ripped through the streets and killed over and over, leaving players weak and sickly.

They talked and they talked and Rat sat there and stewed. He needed out, he needed out of this city, this system of broken lives and stupid rules. Most of the people here didn’t deserve it, most of the people here were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, victims of a system that deemed them wrong. People like Ash and Squiddo who were simply glitched, whose makeup was not made for the hub and therefore needed to be purged.

People like Clown who was a trained killer and was used and abused till he was no longer useful and then thrown.

Rat thought of his server of content, with Luxintrus and Sillvia, two chaotic fools with a propensity for watching it all burn, with Eight and Moriya who just smiled when shit got bad because really what else could they do? He thought of Winsweep and Talon and all the people he would end the world for and really he thought -

Maybe the people of this stupid city could join the ranks of being his. These five certainly did and so did Mid and Derapchu and this stupid church cult and the peacekeepers and the circus and Rat had so many people now to look after and he wasn’t scared.

Flame looked at him then, his eyes were heavy and dark, more world weary than any person his age ever should be. His shoulders weighed down with holding an army up and his hands were calloused from far too much clutching on for dear fucking life.

He asked Rat then something he had always known was true. "You’re gonna get us out of here? Are you gonna take us all?" He sounded young, lost and angry and Rat knew this was just who he was - an angry desperate fool, but he was also Rat’s.

He looked Flame straight on like he had before, he locked him into the game of intense gazes and silent clenched jaws. The room had gone oddly silent at the exchange, Clown was frozen, tensed as if to jump in to defend Flame or fight Rat - he didn’t know.

Rat answered simply, to the point. "I am going to kill myself trying," he told Flame under no uncertain terms. "I will blow a hole in the barrier if that’s what’s needed," and he meant it. "I will traverse the void," he added, and the room stayed quiet as the exchange played out.

But eventually Mapicc needed his answers too. He stared at Rat and Rat, knowing he needed to give his attention to him now, turned bodily, facing Mapicc. He asked simply, the word holding history Rat didn’t really know, "Why?"

Rat stared him down but Mapicc held to himself a sort of weary certainty. He didn’t deserve it, he seemed to project an air of hatred Rat could barely see through. He seemed to think Rat agreed with him and Rat hated that fact. He tilted his head like the question was curious instead of heartbreaking and answered with the truth. "Because you're worth it."

Mapicc stared and then stared some more and then Red interrupted them, his voice pitched up like he was trying to crack a joke. "This is gay," he informed the table at large and like a spell had been broken the room devolved.

"I'll call your boyfriend if you’re feeling left out?" Rat cut through the giggles and protest and Red smiled smug as ever. Zam laughed, his chest constricting then peeling out with a chuckle.

Mapicc elbowed him and looked over at Red. "Careful with Ash," he warned playfully. "Zam's around, he might steal him too." Rat remembered the harem and was beginning to think everyone knew.

Red's face dropped and he performatively turned big wide scared eyes on Zam who only laughed more. Through hiccups he informed Red rather brazenly, "Don’t worry Doons," he giggled, bearing his teeth so all could see. "He’s not my type at all."

Mapicc scoffed and Red shook his head. Rat decided to jump in. "Isn’t your type weird and has a pulse?" he asked and Mapicc turned to Rat, betrayed, hand over his chest and mouthing 'weird' as if he had called him some mortally insulting form.

Zam shook his head still smiling, then he zeroed in, his face getting it under control with a fake serious portrayal. "I’d never date Derapchu."

Mapicc barked a laugh and Flame hummed judgmentally. "I don’t know man, sometimes the way he looks at you..."

Red laughed. "And you look at him," he added jovially.

Zam spluttered and waved his arms wildly. Mapicc dodged a wide-berthed attack. Clown watched on in silence, he seemed to not know with the rapidly changing tone of the group, but at least it hadn’t come to blows.

Fuck, Rat thought as Flame offered to give Zam dating advice while Mapicc yelled over him. He had been single since before he came to the city. Rat smiled happily, thinking over the group he had collected. Loved these people, the crazy ass fools, the reckless heartfelt idiots and all.

Clown observed him across the table, a monolith, a test. He was curious from the tilt of his mask and the angle of his body. Let him learn, Rat knew, letting them learn let him in after all.

o0O0o

Rat found Poafa on a roof. He was sat rather casually, his back against a chimney stack Rat knew was bricked up at the other end. He sat with his eyes closed, breathing in deep and slow. He would look asleep if his legs weren’t swinging back and forth in a slow rhythmic beat. Rat decided he wanted to approach.

Poafa is a guy on the edge of the group, a stranger in his own team, an outlier in the system of the city. Poafa was someone Rat wanted to protect but had proven his worth over and over by just being there, by surviving in his own way.

Rat sat down beside him and without opening his eyes Poafa greeted him. "Hi Rat." His voice was soft and friendly and Rat had to smile.

Even though he had no idea how Poafa knew it was him he greeted nonetheless. "Hi Poafa." They shared a beat of silence before Rat asked, "How did you know it was me?" Poafa shrugged.

"No one else can sneak up on me like you. Valid, also a little nice." Rat smiled. "Happy to know you think so highly of me." Poafa laughed.

They lapsed into silence. It was evening and from here you could see the sun set over the ocean. The rubbish barges should be coming in in a few days - the cast off of other servers, the trash no one wanted.

Poafa sighed.

Rat turned to him. He was troubled but didn’t look discontent, just lost in his own head. Rat could relate. He wondered then how someone like Poafa could end up in a city like this. He turned to Poafa with a half smile, half frown.

"Hey dude?" he began, not sure Poafa was up for talking. In response Poafa hummed a confirmation he was at least listening. Rat pulled a face, not sure how to ask before just settling on ripping the band-aid off and hoping it worked. "If you don’t mind me asking..." He waited a second. Poafa didn’t move. "How did you end up here?"

A moment of silence, then another. Rat didn’t know if he was going to answer. Maybe he had killed someone or been an admin gone rogue, maybe he was a glitch and Rat just couldn’t see his code - all valid things he may want to keep hidden. But eventually Poafa answered.

"I... I guess I knew too much." He said it hesitantly, like he wasn’t really sure. Rat’s brows furrowed and when he finally opened his eyes he looked at Rat and looked rueful. "You know, I listen..." he frowned. "I learned... things." He wrinkled his nose. "Things about the admins at the hub."

Rat's eyes flew open wide. Hub admins were their own microculture of god complexes - they ran the servers. No one could exit without them, or well, they liked to say things like that. Rat wasn’t keen on any of them, didn’t have an up-to-date hub ID for his troubles. But Poafa was smiling sadly now, eyes downcast and lips only twitching in a vague attempt at humour.

"Things that could get them all fired," he continued, and Rat watched him list his hands into his lap and twiddle his thumbs. "Things about life steal..." Rat stared.

"Like what?" he asked, and it almost sounded like a threat of wind, his lungs were so empty and his curiosity so intense. Poafa smiled a little more real this time, looking back up and knitting his brows.

"Falsifying records for people sent here with bogus reasons," he counted on his fingers. "Erasing hub IDs and locking players into hardcore worlds," he counted again. "Facilitating watcher death games in exchange for blind eyes on..." He trailed off, watching Rat closely.

Rat likes Poafa and his listening ears and his silly personality. He likes his dedication, his fear, his awkward smiles and chapped lips. He likes everything about Poafa. "Dude, we're gonna get you out of here," he said, and Poafa’s smile dropped a lot. He looked like he was going to cry but Rat ploughed on. "We’re going to get you out of here and we are going to take them down."

Poafa turned away back to the sunset coastline, his eyes open now. He watched the sun dip ever lower. An hour from now it would be gone for the night to take hold, but for now it sunk lower and lower.

"We’re gonna get out," Rat repeated like a mantra, and Poafa just smiled, his eyes soft, his vision blurry like he wasn’t really seeing the world around him anymore.

"That’s a nice idea, Rat." He said it like he didn’t really believe him and Rat had to bite his tongue, because it wasn’t for certain he could get them out. He still had no plan. Poking at code and ripping holes in reality were risky and he couldn’t risk his people. If he tried too hard the watchers would take notice and then his whole plan would be blown up.

"You should talk to Mapicc," Rat tells him instead, because what Poafa really needs is to belong. And from what Rat understands he does - to Mapicc and Jepexx and some strange demon trio. Whatever happened, it tore the softest of them from the group and left him floating unsure as to what to do.

Poafa chuckles then, looking at Rat with some type of adoration - true and uncut and kind. He was so fucking kind, Poafa. "I’m trying but it’s all pretty slow," he admits. He points at the sunset. "This reminds me of them," he told Rat, and Rat turned to the beauty of it, surrendered to the soft breeze, though the air was polluted.

"I miss them," he tells Rat as he watches a bait bob in the water looking for a catch for a break from vegetables. "Mapicc and Jepexx," he says as if to clarify, then sighs. "They’re stubborn," he tells Rat like he should already know.

But maybe he doesn’t. From the feel of it Poafa was their brother after all.

"They’ll come around," Rat says resolute, and Poafa smiles sad and wistful.

"And you’ll free the city?" he asks like he’s asking an adult to tell him a bedtime story. Rat cannot bring himself to smile.

"Yeah," he says instead, and Poafa closes his eyes back to the quiet rooftop, watching.

"Yeah," he echoed back - sad, lost and hopeful.

o0O0o

Rat always assumed Zam was the one with a harem, but as he walked into the leader of the devils’ personal private office he was reminded Mapicc had his own shit going on. Inside was what he could only describe as an emotional power struggle.

Mapicc sat at his desk working, thankfully, on the papers Rat had oh so easily passed off to him. They were about the marital status of several citizens and made the whole giving your property away far easier.

Rat watched from the doorway.

Everyone was distracted and therefore he had time to observe. Zam was draped over the desk in the space Mapicc wasn’t using to shuffle bureaucracy, while Roahambo was draped out across the couch.

They orbited one another the same way they orbited Mapicc - with quick glances and furrowed brows. Zam moves around Ro like he is unfamiliar but curious. Ro moves around him like he can’t see him.

Mapicc was talking to them, head only half in the conversation as he read and stamped and named and signed the paperwork. Rat watched as Zam jumped in from time to time with playful quips, and Ro chatted softly, not acknowledging his ribbing. This only seemed to drive Zam onwards though.

It was strange, how they orbited the same man. It was strange Mapicc was letting them go.

Rat decided he had watched for too long, he stepped out of the doorway and into the room drawing all their attention. Zam gracelessly yelped and fell off the desk, Ro sat up back tight and ready, Mapicc looked up and smiled.

"Hey," he said casually, putting his pen and paper aside, assumably glad not to be trapped in the work he had been doing.

Rat smiled at him, friendly as ever. Ro looked unnerved but Zam just stayed on the floor. With Rat's eyes on him he smiled in greeting. Rat looked back to Mapicc who asked, "How can I help you?" It was the most polite he would ever be and that was because Rat had mastered the monster and now he reaped the rewards.

"Do any of you know of the castle?" he asked the room. Really he was here to ask Mapicc but he may as well know. Ro shrugged and shook his head. "Something too close to the woods, not my business," he said casually.

Zam looked more uncomfortable, his eyes scanned Mapicc then drifting to Rat then finally landing on Ro. He took a breath then shrugged. Rat didn’t know what he knew but at this point it wasn’t all that much because Mapicc sat back with a curious frown.

"I know bits," he began, "like there are groups out in the castle or something." A knife appeared from nowhere and he toyed with it as he thought. "Really, why don’t you just ask Reddoons?" He was inspecting Rat with a furrowed brow as if he was waiting for a shoe to drop, like he was studying a strange breed of bird on the edge of a branch.

Rat returned the look of confusion. "You’re the ones who border castle?" he said, but it sounded like more of a question. Mapicc’s nose wrinkled.

"Yeah but we never really bothered with them?" he answered. "Worked with Spoke as much as anyone can work with the crazy ass fool." He shook his head. "I think he and Planet came to the city together."

Rat soaked up the names and little connections. Spoke, a crazy ass fool, got it. "Yeah but Red worked with them, supplied them from the rumour mill." Mapicc shrugged.

"They just blow each other up over a castle no one else wants." He wrinkled his nose. "They are just as mad as everyone says they are really."

Rat frowned, he needed to at least try to understand them. Mad people, though unpredictable, usually have a method, a goal, and all that. He had seen of them they were no fools.

Notes:

sorry about crap editing I didnt have the time i wanted hope you have an amazing day/night

Chapter 18

Rat decided to check out the castle, it was raining and cold but it wasn’t winter anymore and that’s all he really needed, this was the first real visit to the site that was arguably the closest to his base. See the castle was big but uninteresting, the occasional explosion that came from the property were just that - a few explosions, not something Rat really cared about.

But he felt he needed to at least try make an effort. He was going to get the people out, he was, he just needed a way out and in the meantime there was a war he could at least try to understand going on just by his doorstep.

Rat stood on the stoop of the castle, a low door with cracked stone that could not be structurally sound. It was a miracle the building hadn’t crumbled by now, but whatever. Rat knocked and no one answered, for several minutes he waited but eventually he grew impatient.

Rat opened the door and ducked - a gunshot went off as the door was swung open. He stared in confusion as the gun smoked. Cautiously Rat moved forwards, the halls were filled with a low rumble like heavy machinery was at work and as he crept he felt the distinct sensation of eyes flicking over him.

Voices far off echoed down the halls - two men were yelling, one about the end of the world, the other about a catalyst. A hissed “freedom” came from both and Rat started as a knight that had once been inanimate suddenly swung its axe down exactly where he had once been stood. He clutched his dress, what the fuck was wrong with these people?

An explosion off above him and another getting closer. Rat started and ducked around another corner and was he really that deep into the building? He had not been walking long, or well…

It felt like the walls were closing in on him, a shadowed figure rushed past him then another, both were dressed in long purple robes. Rat stood frozen as a man in an all black outfit with eyes as wide and star-filled as planets rushed after them. He had a rainbow bandanna and cuffs and he had a rocket launcher mounted on his shoulder.

Rat stared as again another explosion sounded off, then feathers fell from the ceiling - green and blue and yellow and carefully groomed - and Rat looked up and a parrot hybrid stood in the rafters. The Parrot, the famous one no one knew the location of. He was fucking here of all places, why was Rat surprised? He was beginning to think this entire city was a ploy to hide the admins of the hub’s dirty laundry, the amount of people Rat saw no reason for being kept here beyond they were worrisome in some way.

“Leave,” Parrot ordered and Rat may not be a coward but he sure as fuck was a smart bastard. He turned and left as quick as he could.

o0O0o

Rat knew Zam knew something, something he didn’t wanna say in front of Mapicc. If this was another one of his exes Rat shuddered at the thought but it was the best lead he had. Rat went to the Peacekeepers base for answers and maybe hot chocolate, since he united the city he found there was a way to share treasures around and make it all fair. Rat loved it really, he did.

Pangi loved hot chocolate and so when Rat trotted up and found him in the kitchen he asked for some, he then went and found Zam.

Who was lying down in his hammock - or well, he must be uncomfortable, no one bends like that.

Rat watched Zam bend in an inhuman way and sighed. He looked peaceful, pity he was Rat's only chance at answers to whatever the fuck that was. He rocked the hammock and rather unceremoniously dumped Zam out.

"Ow!" he yelped, suddenly awake and confused. He looked at Rat and jumped up. "What the hell?" he asked and then without missing a beat, "Who’re we fighting?"

See that's what Rat liked - ready to follow his orders, ready to fight - but right now that was irrelevant. Rat wanted information, something infinitely easier and harder to give than manpower and the opportunity of a dead body on the floor.

"I need you to answer a few questions," Rat told him and Zam frowned.

"I haven’t been doing anything with Derapchu," he said and now it was Rat's turn to frown.

"What the fuck?" he asked and Zam opened his mouth, brows furrowed.

"Or 4C or Poafa, I’ve been safe-" Rat cut him off.

"No I don’t care about your love life, we’re gonna talk about the castle."

Zam's brows shot up. "Huh," he said, voice a little hoarse. Rat stared down at him.

"Yeah and we’re gonna do it in the kitchen."

"I’d rather not-" Zam began to protest but Rat didn’t care, he dragged him up by the scruff and dragged Zam along. They were both not very tall but they managed. Rat hauled the fucker into the kitchen where Pangi was sat, a cup ready for Rat on his return.

Pangi took one look at them and stood up. "I think I need to go water my rock," he said matter of factly and promptly left. Rat sighed and sat down at the table. Zam stared after him with huge wide eyes.

"Don’t leave me here," he called and Pangi pretended not to hear. Zam flipped him off and Pangi, somehow knowing that’s what was happening, flipped him off back from behind before the door closed, leaving them alone in the kitchen.

Zam turned and sat up like the entire exchange hadn’t happened and smiled at Rat, all business.

"So whatcha wanna know?" he asked, too happily. "Because I’m going to be real, I don’t know very much."

Rat cocked a brow. "Do you know who fights in the castle?" he asked and Zam continued that fake ass smile.

"Parrot, Spoke..." he paused. "Someone named Subz and..." he trailed off.

"And?" Rat prompted, unimpressed.

"His name’s Vitalasy." Zam’s smile grew smaller and more genuine. "He and Subz - I used to work with them."

Rat cocked his head, curious. "But not anymore?" he asked and Zam’s smile dropped. Okay, cool, bad breakup. Moving on. Rat hummed. "What is the catalyst they were yammering on about?" he asked instead and Zam froze up, looked at Rat with concern.

Slowly he answered, picking his words as if he was diffusing a bomb.

"Oh you know." He twisted his features before continuing. "It’s this rift in the world," he frowned, "or apparently." Rat’s eyes grew wide. "They think they can get out of here if they just open it up." He gestured his hands before dropping them.

"Complete and utter bullshit," he said matter of fact and Rat frowned. It didn’t sound it, but well. "Crackpot theory," he added. "The lot of them lost it pursuing hot bullshit like that." He laughed but it trailed off as he watched Rat slowly, because what he hoped wouldn’t happen did, Rat’s mind had fired up and he was invested.

"Please don’t," Zam pleaded, eyes wide and a little too wet.

o0O0o

Rat was out doing some more recon. He knew now not to knock, to duck the shotgun blast, to skirt around all statues and bits of armour, to watch the rafters and keep to the shadows. He was no longer wanting to be seen but instead ready to investigate alone.

It was laughably easy really, to bypass all their defences he only needed to sidestep some exploding glass traps and deadly drops. It was like being back home apart from no one had a nuclear bomb. Rat smiled thinking about Content before refocusing.

He made it down one corridor, dodged a battle in an atrium between the two he had to assume were Subz and Vitalasy, who must be Zam's exes, and Parrot and Spoke who were the other team ready to fight.

Rat watched for a second as they threw fire at one another with a wild gusto he didn’t really understand but could feel in his bones.

He went onwards following a path of destruction to a staircase going lower. He found the code was warped - the walls were too short or long for the space they inhabited, the world seemed to glitch and patterns repeat before catching up and inverting - and Rat was a little dizzy over it all.

He walked down and down and down until he reached the bottom where he found an empty room. Unlike the rest of the castle it was empty but untouched - no burn marks on the ceilings or traps hidden in the floor, in fact hiding something here would be hard. It was so empty, the floors, wall and ceiling made of stone.

The thing warping all the code, breaking the world at its heart, was a rip so big Rat was shocked it didn’t have its own gravity, a hole into the void. Anything could get in or out.

This must be the heart of admin magic, the magic the world was sorely lacking. No wonder Parrot was drawn to it - he was an admin after all, a true born one, not trained but made purposefully to lead worlds.

Rat stared at it long and hard, this was the answer, but it needed something to harness it. His code could do nothing, no one had admin powers. The only option was...

"Who are you?" a voice came from the doorway. Rat whipped around - a man dressed in purple with a green streak of hair and goat horns stood tall and proud, staring at him, head tilted back, expression haughty. Beside him Parrot stood too. He glared at Rat.

"I told you to leave," he said, an echo of his past words. Rat stared at them both.

"I'm Rat," he answered the question. He then tilted his head at the two.

Parrot spoke first. "I'm Parrot, I told you to leave." He said it with force, like he could drive Rat out with his words alone.

The goat-horned man narrowed his eyes at Rat. "You can call me Subz," he said as if it was a privilege to get a name. "What do you want with it?" he asked and Rat knew he was talking about the tear in reality behind him. Rat smiled.

"I hope you know of me."

Parrot snorted, Subz shrugged and nodded. Rat continued. "Then you must know of my powers." Narrowed eyes and readied weapons. "I can get you freedom," he offered and the way both men shut themselves off, Rat knew he had fucked up. Maybe it was unfair really - both had been through so much, of course they didn’t trust him. Rat sighed, ready to argue his case but suddenly he no longer could.

He wasn’t sure who moved first but en masse both went to attack him. Rat was faster though, he ducked under arms and flew out the door, up the stairs. He moved with light speed, the tips of his toes touching the stone before he was off again.

He was chased out the building into the forest, both men shrieking curses and accusations of traitor and idiot and Rat knew he had fucked up. But what the fuck?

He went to the church and collapsed, no one bothered him. He needed to sleep after all and this had been a confusing fucking day.

o0O0o

Rat decided the next morning he wanted to talk to his church, his people, the ones he kept mostly tucked away - maybe even his advisory table, though he would never tell them. Derapchu would definitely use it for evil.

Rat got up and made breakfast, a simple wrap with potato and onion and whatever meat scraps he could get together. Everyone woke to the smells and came out of the woodwork. They in fact had eggs now, Rat had learned Clown had been harbouring a few and Rat had begun a program to get eggs out to most other communities in the city.

It was good food to wake to, and Rat revelled as his little team crawled out of the branches and ditches and vines to huddle around him. It was warm and clean inside and so unlike the city at large.

Planet sat with his legs crossed staring at the bowl with a pot. Jaron blinked sleepily at Rat who glanced around. "Where’s Bacon?" he asked, curious, and Planet sighed oh so dramatically.

"Bacon and Zam are fucking again," he said petulantly and Rat blinked, a little taken aback. Then he glanced to Jaron who was shaking his head and sighing and Rat was shocked. He really should have expected that...

Telling them to get along was not meant to go this far, he was literally just trying to stop himself from having a headache.

"Ah," Rat said eloquently, "I hope they’re being..." he struggled for a word, "safe."

Planet and Jaron looked at him with mock expressions of betrayal. Mid walked in yawning.

"Are they still upset about Bacon?" she asked and Rat smiled sheepishly. Both Jaron and Planet fell over themselves whining about the whole ordeal. Rat watched them thoughtfully. Rek slipped out of the shadows and accepted food easily. Jumper fell out of her vine nest and grabbed one, eyes still closed.

It was a quiet morning, perfect for thinking. Rat was good at thinking, he prided himself on thinking a lot really.

He looked at his food. The Spoke guy was somehow connected to Planet, they looked alike and they came in together. Rat watched as Rek stole some of Jumper’s food and Jumper retaliated by throwing water at him.

Rat thought about Bacon who was probably sleeping with Zam, skipping a good breakfast. It was funny, and then Rat remembered Mane. "Hey," he said, brows furrowed. He caught Jaron’s attention quick. "What about Mane, with Bacon and Zam and all." He didn’t wanna imply Mane was going to do anything but...

Jaron blinked at him a few times, his face totally and utterly blank. Then he threw a blindside Rat had never fucking expected. "Mane’s with them," he said matter-of-fact before returning to his food.

Rat stared for a few seconds. What the fuck?

In that moment of mind-cleared reality Rat realised what he needed to do with the rift and the war and his people and it all. In that moment of blindsided clarity Rat realised all his problems were solved.

He stood up suddenly. Rek jolted backwards - the chain on his ankle was finally gone, no clattering followed the move. Mid sat up, the sleepy expression gone. Jaron frowned and Planet blinked at him. "What?" the strange void hybrid asked.

"I have a plan," he said with a smile. "I think I know how to get us out." He looked to Mid and jerked his head. He had a team he needed to put together and he would always drag along his first follower.

"Okay..." Jaron said slow as Rat left. "And he got that because Bacon’s fucking Mane and Zam?"

Planet laughed. "No silly, Mane’s fucking Bacon and Zam."

Rat dragged Mid across rooftops faster than she normally would choose to go but he had an idea and he wanted to do it now god damn it!

First they needed Zam, he was by far the easiest to track down. On the way Rat managed to spot Ash though, he called out to the glitched player. "I need you and Quiddo by the docks come midday!" Ash frowned but nodded.

"Alright... we’ll be there," he answered before scurrying off out of Rat’s war path as he crashed through the connective tissue of their network city. Mid jumped on her sword and descended the side of the building, Rat leapt from rooftop to rooftop, any two-legged motion completely forgotten as he moved at his natural speed.

They ended up at the Peacekeepers complex. Rat scaled the staircase, only going through the front door because it might upset Pangi who was casually in the kitchen upon him entering. Rat didn’t even have to ask, Pangi just sighed and pointed at one of the spare rooms, one with an actual bed, and Rat crashed in there, Mid came after apologising to Pangi who shrugged sleepily.

Rat was busy though, inside he found all three - Zam, Bacon and Mane. Zam was half dressed, trousers on but shirt off, Bacon was under the covers and Mane had nothing but boxers on and a sword at the ready. Rat ignored all of them but Zam.

"Hurry up, I need you," Rat ordered the bewildered Peacekeeper leader, then he looked at Mane. "Oh and tell your brother to meet me at midday at the docks."

Rat stood and waited for Zam to button up his shirt then turned and left. Mid and Zam followed behind him, Bacon’s voice echoed. "What just happened?"

They were off again, Rat running through his checklist of people he needed to pick up when he came across Derapchu, who was unexpectedly out and about. He looked tired and stressed and he blinked when Rat rushed past.

"Rat!" he called and Rat paused. He needed to have time and patience for his team after all. "Rat, what’s going on?" he looked confused and Zam piped up then.

"Yeah, I’d really like to know too," he sounded annoyed and Rat cocked a brow at him and he shrank in on himself some. Rat glanced back to Derapchu who looked a little stricken. Maybe he should redirect these silly emotions, more specifically maybe he should make Derapchu more happy at least.

"Business," he told Derapchu who looked put out but Rat tacked on, "Pangi just got up and Mane and Bacon are gonna be a while, you could hang out with him." Rat glanced to the next jump - he could make that without looking. "Alone," he tacked on the end and they headed off again. Derapchu looked certainly more happy.

"Yo Rat," Zam chased after him as Rat rushed off again. "What the fuck?" he heaved as he moved. Mid had the smarts to stay quiet, roll with the punches.

"Don’t get jealous Zam," Rat shot off. "Now come the fuck on."

They continued to run.

Notes:

I moved into my Uni house and forgot to post i then proceeded to forget on saterday and now it's sunday and i'm sowwy <3 plesase eat so i can go to sleep <3 :p

have a lovely day or night get good rest I'm gonna have to fight my landlord so much this year...

Chapter 19

Rat had with him Zam and Mid, Derapchu was off looking for Pangi and Zam was looking at Rat disgruntled. Rat shrugged him off, setting the breakneck pace across the rooftops once more, it was maybe a few hours till noon but the sooner everyone was together the better for him.

Rat and crew made their way into the casino district. Really not much had changed since Rat had taken full control - the district was as quiet as always but Rat felt they were a little less burdened. Greenhouses were cropping up all over - a good way to feed the hungry and house the sick after all.

He also knew Red had moved some business in, not enough to upset Clown but more than originally permitted by the paranoid man. Maybe he worked better with a little reassurance, a safety net as it was. Rat was happy to be there, but right now he needed Clown.

He was up in one of his main bases - it seemed he still stuck to the no two places back to back. Rat supposed it was smart but he also found it annoying. Thankfully it was a main house so Rat only searched for an hour, a confused Zam and exasperated Mid chasing after him.

When he crashed into the middle of the apartment block, interrupting what must be a late breakfast or early lunch, he wasn’t even responded to with a weapon as Mane had. Clown just cocked a brow as Rat came barrelling through an open window, behind him Mid and Zam struggled to get through as well but Rat was already at the table, on the side not occupied by Clown, Branzy or the wall. He stared down at Clown then glanced to Branzy then back.

"You're coming with me," Rat ordered. He didn’t like ordering but he knew he could throw his weight around just a little.

Clown's brows furrowed and his mask that only covered the lower half of his face twitched. "Rat, what are you doing?" he asked, ignoring the order, but Rat didn’t have time nor patience for this, he still had to grab Cube and meet with Flame and the glitch duo.

"Clown," Rat said his name seriously and Clown's eyes narrowed. Rat was rarely serious when it was just casual day-to-day shit. "I think I've got a breakthrough," Rat said and Clown's eyes went a little wide.

Clown looked to Branzy who smiled weakly at him, his eyes confused as he glanced from Rat to his companions who had finally gotten in. To Clown, "I'm sorry dear but can we take a rain check?" he requested and Branzy smiled a little more genuine as he looked at his guard dog, his guiding light.

"Of course darling," he said without hesitation and it was all disgustingly sweet and Rat needed to get out already. Rat turned to leave exactly how he entered but Branzy was up and in front of the window. Huh, he could move pretty fast. "Use the front door," he ordered, a sweet smile gracing his face and Rat felt a little threatened. Weird because Branzy was, well, Branzy - an unintimidating wreck.

"I'll pack you all lunch," he said and Rat was forced to stop and calm down for 10 odd minutes as Branzy made up sandwiches for everyone. Zam looked thankful, Clown a little put out and Mid was bemused, standing guarding the door as if anyone would dare attack them - attack Clown of all people at least.

They got to leave with Branzy telling them it was all part of the plan and Rat not really understanding, but Clown smiling and waving and Zam trotting off, the chosen carrier of the sandwiches. It meant he could go a little slower and Rat didn’t begrudge him that, they only needed to pick up Cube after all. Cube who Rat had only seen a few times and had never really seen above ground.

Cube, Rat wasn’t sure really went above ground that much.

But Rat needed the redstone engineer, a possible sighted one with the skill set needed for modding without any of the skills, yet.

So he dragged poor Mid, Clown and Zam to the hatch hidden behind the bookshelf in the basement of the once forgotten apparent building that was now used to house a massive greenhouse. He waved to Hannah who was on the roof as he rushed past but didn’t stop for a chat, she seemed happier nowadays now that Leo was actually working to help her.

All three of his companions seemed astounded by the secrecy and security Cube had around his workshop, Clown especially, though wearing a mask, glanced around the passages with a level of impress.

"Who are we going to meet?" Zam asked and if Rat didn’t know any better he sounded worried. Rat laughed.

"Oh, Cube," he said cheerily and Mid hummed.

"Who?" she asked politely and Rat shrugged as he opened the bookshelf.

"He's part of business, good friend of Speptcial." Zam and Mid exchanged glances.

"Like Spectacle, the red guy who’s friends with everyone?" Mid asked again, and the sounds of an electrical saw could now be heard. Clown's guard went up immediately.

Rat went down the hatch and the rest followed. Inside they found Cube knee deep in a contraption with wheels and strange moving parts, knives all over and a welding iron in hand. Rat called up to him.

"Cube, you are required!" he was almost drowned out by the machine but Cube lifted his visor and looked down, face sweaty, brows furrowed.

"Hey Rat!" he called, smile small but fiery, then his eyes drifted to Rat's group and his expression grew guarded.

Rat didn’t really care why.

"I'm in need of your specific skill set!" Rat yelled and Cube looked down at the machine.

"Is it..." he paused, "urgent?" Rat frowned.

"Is that gonna blow up if you leave it?" he thought it was a valid question. Cube smiled and jumped down, leaning most of his equipment up but keeping gloves and visor on.

"It's a tiller, automatic installation, you can grow about 150 root vegetables, no need for water or anything!" he said it happily before dropping his demeanour, remembering again he had an audience. "It won’t explode."

Rat smiled. "Sounds awesome" - because fuck yeah, Cube did cool shit without mods and that was fucking amazing. His strange technical face shifted some.

Clown was looking around curiously, Zam was rooted to the spot by the door and Mid was watching them interact with her usual passive observing expression, like they were artworks she was trying to figure out the meaning of.

Rat cleared his throat. "Yeah, it’s urgent then," he instructed Cube who nodded. Rat grinned - great because it was almost noon and he needed to be by the docks to catch the rest of the group.

o0O0o

By the water he gathered his group, passers-by drifted down the path glancing at the strange assortment. People liked to steer clear of Rat most of the time but such a gathering usually gathered a crowd. Information was power and though he controlled the street and no one went hungry, he couldn’t stop the gossip train, didn’t want to either. They could wander all day what he was up to as long as they didn’t get in his way.

But he didn’t anticipate this. In his little hodgepodge group Cube was hiding behind Glitch duo Ash and Squiddo, glancing to him, faces worried and fond as he tried to avoid interacting with anyone else.

His strange appearance gave away his mixed feelings as the sides of his face kept changing red to green and blue and white, ever-shifting rapid style.

Zam on the other hand stayed beside Mid with an awkward air between them. They didn’t know each other well however they had both been with Rat from the start really. Mid busted into his life a whirlwind of energy and good vibes as well as a guiding light, Zam a stranger turned ally turned friend Rat was glad to call his, proud to lay claim to the peaceful force of chaos.

Rat looked to his friend who had hickeys developing on his throat and a still somehow misbuttoned shirt. Mid must’ve noticed and not said anything, she caught his eye, he was sure of it. The hickeys were normal seeing as Zam's harem kept fucking growing week after week.

Did Mane make them or Bacon? It didn’t matter but it was funny to wonder, were Mane's teeth too sharp for hickeys?

Clown and Flame were also ready, stood shoulder to shoulder. Though unfamiliar, the begrudging respect was funny to Rat, they were painfully similar while still being so different. He called them in and they huddled ready for his command.

"I think I have the key to the way out," Rat began and all eyes were locked on him, brows furrowed or rose, backs straightened, shoulders tensed. "I chose you as a particular set of skills are required for this expedition."

"Where are we going?" Zam asked, eyes narrowed and Rat grinned.

"The castle." Zam groaned, Mid frowned, Flame laughed.

"Why are we going there?" Ash asked, incredulous.

Rat smiled. "Because none of them are mad." Looks of disbelief greeted him and Rat smiled more. "They have the key to the way out, they just haven’t figured it yet."

"And we're gonna take it from them?" Cube asked, his frown deep, his voice worried, and Rat smiled soft and reassuring.

"We are going to help free them," he said simply, and it wasn’t enough, it never was really, but it was all he had.

They all looked to him to lead and Rat had learned a long time ago he had nothing left to lose from all this.

"What are we waiting for," Flame said, clapping his hands. Squiddo jumped a little before grinning like a madman. "Let’s go!" he cheered and to the rooftops they sped.

o0O0o

Rat brought his new crew down to the forest and to the castle, he warned them about the trap on the door which had somehow been reset again. He was starting to think it was meant for an alarm more than a trap after all.

Rat led them down corridors made from stone covered in scorch marks. The group stayed tight knit, Rat leading and Clown bringing up the back, the rest of the group tucked away with them.

They slipped down corridors that were eerily silent. No one was fighting in the halls of dead men. Rat knew no one was fighting but they sure as shit were watching them.

Rat knew but he didn’t care. Let them bring the fight - Rat had the numbers and even without that he had Clown and Flame on his side. He could probably send them in alone and no one would be able to beat them.

Rat led them down the halls and down the stairs as the destruction grew more dire. "This is how they live?" Zam asked and his voice was soft and filled with... sadness? Worry? Something like love.

Rat didn’t say anything.

They went down the stairs and they were ready. At the end Rat stepped out. A fumble of feathers and a streak of black and rainbow fell down, hitting Rat on the back, but he was already moving, pulling out from the grapple before it began. He hissed as he pushed the fucker off - Parrot was not heavy, he did not eat well.

Spoke, or who he assumed was Spoke, was subdued by Flame - a flurry of blades and fire and fists - and Rat darted out of Parrot's attack. He pulled him in only to flip him over his back and slam his head on the ground.

Clown came up with zip ties and Spoke was downed as well. Zam had stepped in and pulled Spoke back as Flame moved forwards and quickly his weapon was hit out his hand.

Rat was happy to see them both trussed up but then Mid squeaked, her sword was out, galaxies floating between her and the two new strangers - a tall man, the fox, and a shorter man with a blue hoodie and sunglasses.

"Hey." the blue hoodie said with an awkward wave.

"Who are you?" Ash asked and Parrot snorted on the floor.

"Good question," he muttered but Rat drove his knee into his back and he went quiet.

"I'm Vortex," he explained awkwardly. "I work with them." He pointed to Spoke and Parrot and Rat had a feeling he didn’t want to fight.

"And you?" Ash asked, looking at the fox hybrid.

Zam spoke up instead of the man himself. "That's Vitalasy," he said, his voice a little flat. "He works with Subz." Vitalasy smiled, flashing strangely white teeth.

"Hey Zammy," he said with a wink. "Long time no see." Rat blinked, he’d forgotten Zam had even more exes. Now whether it was Vitalasy or Subz was the question.

"Are you gonna attack?" Rat asked, cutting across the banter, and Vitalasy turned to him with a soft smile.

"Na," he said cheerily.

"And where's Subz?" Zam asked, and was that wistful? Was that annoyed? What was he feeling?

"Oh he’ll be here soon," Vitalasy said with a brilliant smile. So he was planning an attack, but unless he could take out Rat, Mid, Ash, Clown and Flame he was really not prepared.

Rat chewed on his lip. "Okay sure, whatever." Let him be cryptic.

Rat turned to the rift, he had better things to be taking in. Cube slipped forwards as he did and took up his side, stepping out when Rat showed it was safe enough to approach. He looked curious, confused, interested. Cube recklessly or maybe calculated reached his hands out and stuck his whole fucking fist in it.

Rat watched as he ran his fingers, strangers to code, through the magical liquid - the stuff that destroyed and made reality around it. Rat watched his eyes widen as he tried to see and maybe he caught glimpses. Rat smiled and leant over him.

In his ear Rat whispered the secrets of the code, of the universe. He let Cube see it, see it all, like he had learned to do years ago. He pointed out the master thread, the functions that made the world run, and he pricked at reality - it rippled out. No one noticed but Cube and Rat, and he gasped for it.

Behind them maybe someone, probably Zam, asked if they were okay. Rat ignored them, letting Cube become lost in the magic of the universe and what was hidden behind and beyond it.

But it was... broken.

His voice stuttered and the beauty was shattered, the silence they had created was ruined and Rat stared. No player code should be able to persist within the world - it ate magic, it ate life, it chewed up and spit out nothing but void and death.

How had the city survived, how had the people managed? Rat stared at the code, so painfully utterly fucked. As he stared at the code Cube was staring at him, eyes wide, mouth held half open.

Suddenly he yelped and stumbled back, everyone followed suit looking at Cube in confusion, Rat with fear. He stumbled over his words. "You- you're what?" he began and Rat glanced to him and his men, the victims he had invaded, the people he was here to save.

"How did you get here?" Cube asked in shock, fear, maybe awe. His eyes were wide, he was shaking. Rat frowned.

"Got dumped in the woods," he shrugged - it was the truth.

"Not the docks?" Zam asked and Rat smiled.

"They couldn’t get me that far." The looks of confusion were passed around. Parrot on the floor stared up at him, eyes narrowed, beak sharp as shit.

"He's a modder," Cube breathed like a threat, like a prayer. The looks of horror, confusion, fascination were drawn around him.

Ash and Squiddo froze and stared at Rat. They were scared of Rat. He didn’t have time for them to be scared of him, he knew glitches were annoying but they were not the end all of modding. He could work around them perfectly fine, he was not going to kill them where they stood.

"What's a modder?" Zam asked, his brows furrowed. Surely he knew but maybe he didn’t, he seemed like the type to befriend modders and eldritch and the divine without realising it. Mid sighed, looking at Rat with a sad confused gaze.

"Modders are the most volatile dangerous entities of all." She looked him up and down. "Stronger than gods, maybe even the eldritch."

Rat winced. "Maybe we're being harsh on gods, guys." He tried and failed to deflect.

The room turned to him ready to yell, ready to fight back, but before then a body came crashing down from the ceiling. Guess that’s where Subz went. Rat lunged and caught him but was paid back for his kindness with a foot to the face.

A scuffle broke down and Rat wasn’t sure whether he was pushing or pulling. Subz must be a good fighter but Rat was a natural at dodging. As Flame stepped in and separated the two he could hear Subz release a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.

Zam was blushing, so was Vitalasy...

Really? This?

Subz was just threatening half above the ground, weaponless and still trying to kick. Vitalasy, seemingly getting his wits about him, finally piped up. "Subz dear," he said. Subz continued to struggle. "Calm down, just relax please," he pleaded and Subz went stubbornly on. He looked at Vitalasy through and words were exchanged in the look they shared. Rat noticed the longing in Zam's eyes as he watched them interact.

Flame had him perfectly subdued and despite his struggling nothing could be done. Flame seemed to realise this slowly, an evil little grin splitting his face as he began to swing Subz. Subz struggled but Flame just swayed him side to side like a cat.

Rat suppressed a reaction, wanting to laugh but not sure he should. Zam had no such qualms as he began to laugh, head knocked forwards. Subz turned on him, his sailor mouth running as fast as he kicked and struggled the pointless battle.

Vitalasy was also beginning to lose it. Subz redoubled his insults and Rat leaned into Ash's space. He hadn’t realised Rat had moved and jumped when Rat decided to remind him of the prior conversation.

"To answer the unsaid, yes Ash," Rat looked at the glitch. "I am a modder." Ash shivered, fear and tension running through him.

"What do you want with me and Squiddo?" he asked, not a tremble in his voice. He was a good business man after all. Squiddo watched on, eyes wide behind her glasses. Rat smiled.

"Same as I always have, you to go and live happy lives."

Ash shook his head.

"There's always a catch," he said matter of fact. Rat shrugged.

"Help get everyone out this server shit show, the code’s not gonna know what to do with you after all."

Ash blinked. "Deal," he said and Rat smiled. Vitalasy, Zam and Subz had quieted down some.

"We're in agreement then?" Rat asked the room at large.

Notes:

i was at a wedding, i should have posted :( L my life <3