Chapter 5: Ratking 1518
Uncertainty clung to David like a second skin as he walked beside Lucy and Rebecca, heading toward the abandoned factory. It wasn't just the job that had him on edge—though the thought of facing the Scavs was bad enough—it was the strange dynamic that had formed between the three of them.
David glanced over at Rebecca. The name rested on the tip of his tongue, swirling with confusion. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her. The first time they met, he almost mistook her for a little girl, with her small stature and high-energy personality. But as the days passed, he quickly learned she was anything but. She was fierce, deadly, and every bit a woman who lived by her own rules.
"Come on, Davey, you gotta spill the deets!" Rebecca's voice cut through his thoughts. "How the hell did you bag the ice queen here?" Her loud laughter echoed through the alley, drawing a few curious glances. Her teasing had a rough edge, but it wasn't malicious—just Rebecca being Rebecca.
David blinked, feeling heat creep up his neck. He didn't know how to respond, caught somewhere between embarrassment and amusement. It wasn't like he had figured out the answer to that question himself. Hell, sometimes he didn't even know if he and Lucy were a proper thing. They hadn't exactly put labels on it.
To his surprise, Lucy was smiling. A small, amused grin tugged at the corner of her lips, making her seem a little less like the enigmatic netrunner she was and more... human. For a moment, David felt like he could relax, maybe even let the tension slip away. Lucy had that effect on him. But he still had no idea what was going on in her head half the time.
"It's more like I bagged him," Lucy said, her voice light, teasing in a way David wasn't used to. She shot him a sideways glance, and for a second, the coldness she usually wore like armor melted away.
"Lucy..." David muttered, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. They had been egging him on the whole walk, and while he enjoyed the banter, it was getting harder to keep up. He wasn't in the mood for jokes, not with what was about to go down.
Rebecca cackled, clearly entertained by his discomfort. "Don't worry, choom. This is nothing compared to the afterparty we're gonna have after this job. You're gonna wish we only teased you this much."
David chuckled weakly. It was hard to tell if she was joking or being serious, but with Rebecca, it was probably a mix of both. He couldn't quite figure her out, but then again, did anyone really know what was going on in her head?
As they neared the factory, the tone of the conversation naturally began to shift. The structure loomed ahead, its crumbling walls and broken windows giving the place a forgotten, almost haunted feeling. Though it was abandoned, there were signs of life—a makeshift bed here, empty cans scattered across the floor, and the faint scent of stale food and sweat. Someone had been living here, even if it wasn't home.
The factory, or was it a warehouse? David couldn't really tell—either way, it didn't matter. What mattered was that it was Scav territory, and Scavs weren't known for their hospitality. The closer they got, the heavier the air felt, thick with tension. David could almost feel the factory watching them, like a predator waiting to pounce.
His gaze fell to his hands, and he noticed them trembling slightly. Not from fear exactly—it was something else, something far more complicated. He felt a strange mix of excitement and dread bubbling in his chest. The uncertainty that had been gnawing at him since the mission began was still there, but now it was accompanied by something else—anticipation.
This was his life now. There was no running from it, no pretending he could go back to being a normal kid. His hands, the ones that had once held textbooks and holo-pads, were now shaking with the thrill of what was to come. It scared him, how much he was beginning to crave the rush. Was this what it felt like to truly be an Edgerunner?
He glanced at Lucy again, searching her face for reassurance, for some sign that everything would be alright. But Lucy was unreadable, as always, her gaze fixed ahead, her mind already on the job.
David took a deep breath, steeling himself. Whatever was about to happen inside that factory, he wasn't going in alone.
Screams. Screams of pain.
Love. Hatred.
The minds of a thousand screamed in one mind. A thousand voices shrieked, howled, and whispered, all clawing for dominance, each desperate for its own desire. Hunger. Food. Warmth. Freedom. Revenge. The desires collided, overlapping, merging, one mind drowning inside the cacophony of many. It was too much. It was beautiful. The rage and longing became one melody, each note sharper than a claw.
And then, the memories.
Scraps of memories from a thousand lives played in flashes: the sudden, cold snap of a trap; the sharp sting of poison-laced bait; the gleam of a human's boot, descending like a promise of death. Tiny bodies broken, crushed beneath the indifference of giants. The ghosts of those dead lingered, snarling inside him, each a silent demand for vengeance. Each of their lives had been short, nasty, and brutish—but he remembered every one of them.
And now, the source of their pain had entered his domain. The air tasted of human fear, a sour tang that drifted through the dusty darkness of the Factory, and yet there was also the steady, arrogant thrum of their heartbeats, beating together like a war drum. His brothers sensed it too—theirs was a world of sensation beyond sight, a universe built from smells and the skittering vibrations of movement in darkness. A thousand noses twitched, a thousand ears pricked. They were near. They were close.
The scurrying of his kin echoed through his mind. He saw through their eyes—a thousand fragmented glimpses, swirling together into a broken kaleidoscope of his approaching enemies. Shapes and shadows. Bits of movement, flashes of skin and cloth, the gleam of a child's eyes wide with horror as she watched the swarm closing in. He felt the slick, soft press of their fur, the tremor of tiny bones in their bodies as they swarmed together, feeding his strength, feeding his rage.
The little girl, the one who dared to stomp. The gall of her small feet against his kin. Stomp. Stomp.
Anger surged, and he lashed out through the minds of those closest to her. They attacked, snarling, hissing, but she danced back, her small face twisted in revulsion. Another flash—this one of the man, his stance wide, eyes narrowed, looking for him. A weapon gleamed in his hand, something sharp and silver, moving with a grim determination.
And the woman. He caught her gaze, piercing, fearless. There was something unsettling about her stillness. She didn't flinch when his kin swarmed near her, didn't even raise her arms to bat them away. Her eyes glinted in the darkness, and he felt a flicker of... was it doubt? Or fear? It slipped away before he could grasp it. But her image lingered in his mind, like a stubborn scent that wouldn't fade.
They were coming for him—for us.
He let his mind reach out, brushing against the thoughts of his followers. He could hear their collective cries rising in a bloodthirsty crescendo. This wasn't just his battle; it was theirs. It was the fury of generations crushed, of nests destroyed and brothers poisoned. Their instincts merged with his own. He was no longer just a king; he was a god of a thousand tiny, wrathful souls.
His body—a shifting, writhing mass of muscles and bones, still vaguely humanoid but bloated with the strength of his augmented senses—twitched and spasmed with each rat that poured into his mind. He saw through them, smelled through them, felt the vibrations of the humans' footsteps as they ventured deeper into the bowels of his domain. Their breaths, rapid and shallow, were signals to him, beacons drawing him closer.
There was a taste in the air, a metallic tinge he relished. Blood, fresh and tempting. One of his kin had already managed to sink teeth into the little girl's ankle. He saw the smear of crimson on her pale skin, heard her hiss of pain, felt her panic seep through the walls of his perception. Her blood was warm, sweet. He wanted more. They all wanted more.
"Ours," he murmured, though the word came out as a mangled, garbled growl. He was forgetting human language, syllables slipping from him, dissolving into the primal sounds of his followers. Language was unnecessary. His kin understood. The signal had been sent—take them, devour them, leave nothing behind.
He surged forward in the darkness, every step echoed by the thousand-legged symphony around him. The Factory was his throne room, a labyrinth of shadows and rust, and he knew every inch of it. He could feel the vibrations of dripping pipes, the whirring machines long dormant, the creak of metal that remembered being alive. It was all part of his kingdom, a vast, decaying empire where he reigned unchallenged.
And yet, a part of him feared. The man with the silver blade, the woman with the unsettling eyes—they were not like the others who had dared to step foot in his world. They moved with purpose, unflinching, undeterred by the horrors that scuttled around them. He could sense something else in them, a resolve he didn't fully understand.
He tried to peer deeper, to push his mind through the maze of his own fractured thoughts. For a brief moment, he felt something... unexpected. Was it recognition? As though he had seen their faces before, in another life, another memory.
It didn't matter. He crushed the thought as he would a struggling rat beneath his heel. They were intruders, nothing more. Their fate was sealed.
The swarm gathered, coiling around his enemies like a tightening noose. Rats poured from every crevice, claws scraping against concrete, teeth bared, eyes glowing like embers in the dimness. He felt their hunger, their anticipation, and he basked in it, feeling his own strength swell as theirs did. This was power. This was vengeance.
He reached out, directing his kin, whispering commands in the secret language of scent and sound. The little girl would fall first. Her soft flesh, her delicate bones—she would scream, and her cries would feed the fear of the others. They would break them down, piece by piece, until nothing was left but echoes.
A shiver of ecstasy rippled through him as he imagined it.
And then, in a blink, the vision shifted. One of his rats had been crushed under the man's boot. A small, insignificant life snuffed out in an instant. But the pain of it—the pain burned through his mind, a thousand times sharper than if it had been his own flesh. He stumbled, his body shuddering as if it, too, had been broken.
Weak, a voice hissed from within him, a voice that was not his own. Pathetic. The voices in his head twisted, some rebelling, a few turning on him, questioning, doubting.
The Rat King snarled, his eyes blazing. No, he was not weak. He was vengeance. He was a god. He would have their blood. They would not leave his domain alive.
He pressed forward, rallying the swarm again, driving them onward in a relentless tide. Whatever tricks these humans had brought, they would not be enough. He was legion. He was wrath.
And tonight, the Factory would be their tomb. And he would ascend with the martyr's blood.
The factory groaned around them, a vast labyrinth of rusted metal and shadows. Pipes dripped from somewhere high above, and every creak and hiss echoed off concrete walls, making it hard to tell where the sounds were coming from. The stink of oil and decay filled their nostrils, and the scuttling of tiny claws scratched against the floor, growing louder with every step they took.
"What the hell is up with these rats?" Rebecca snarled, stamping her boot down hard on another squirming body. There was a sickening crunch, and a tiny squeal cut off abruptly. "I was expecting more... human targets." She glanced over her shoulder, scowling, her eyes glinting with irritation.
David, a few paces behind her, tried to keep up, dodging the occasional rat that darted toward his feet. "Yeah... and maybe more of a stealth approach, too," he muttered, casting a wary glance at Rebecca, who was anything but subtle. Her idea of "quiet" was just hitting something so hard it wouldn't make noise anymore.
Rebecca threw back her head and laughed, a harsh, unapologetic sound that echoed through the empty factory. "Stealth? David, if you wanted stealth, you should've asked Pilar to come along instead." She gave him a smirk, as if the thought amused her more than it should.
David raised an eyebrow. "Pilar?" he asked, not quite keeping up with her cavalier tone. Rebecca didn't talk much about her connections, and it always threw him off when she did.
Lucy, who had been silent up until now, piped up from behind him. "Pilar's another one of the crew," she explained, stepping over a broken pipe with practiced ease. Her voice was calm, her gaze sharp as she surveyed their surroundings. "Rebecca's brother, actually."
Rebecca snorted, rolling her eyes. "My shitty brother. Let's not forget that part." Her voice dripped with scorn, and David caught the edge of something darker in her tone. There was history there, clearly. He'd picked up bits and pieces over the months they'd worked together, but Rebecca had always been cagey about it.
David shrugged, choosing not to press further. He brought his boot down on another rat that had scurried too close, feeling the unsettling squish of fur and bone under his heel. But this time, there was a strange sensation, something harder than flesh beneath his foot. When he lifted his boot, he saw the glint of metal in the rat's remains.
"Uh…" he began, nudging the carcass with the toe of his boot. "I don't think rats are supposed to have metal in them?" His voice was tinged with a mix of curiosity and unease.
Lucy moved forward, crouching down beside him. She examined the mangled creature closely, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the tiny metal implant embedded in its body. "Good find, D," she said, reaching down and prying the fragment loose with gloved fingers. The corner of her mouth quirked up in a small smile.
David felt his face heat up a little at her praise, grateful for the shadows to hide the blush. He cleared his throat. "So… someone's been messing around with these things?"
"Looks that way," Lucy replied, holding the piece of metal up to the dim light. "It's some kind of implant. Looks like it's wired directly into the nervous system." She frowned, inspecting it more closely. "Whoever did this wasn't just augmenting them for strength or agility. They're… enhancing them to respond as one, almost like they're part of a hive mind."
Rebecca crossed her arms, smirking. "Great. Just what I always wanted. Killer robot rats with a grudge."
David shot her a look. "And you thought this was going to be easy?"
"I thought this was going to be fun," she corrected, grinning as she casually swatted away another rat with the back of her hand. "A little stomping, a little shooting. Didn't realize we were up against the Rat Terminator over here."
Lucy's eyes darkened, her gaze sweeping over the shadows. "This isn't just a bunch of rats running wild," she murmured, almost to herself. "This is controlled. Coordinated. He's... guiding them."
David shivered involuntarily. "The Rat King…" he muttered, glancing around. "We called him that as a joke, but... it's starting to feel less funny."
Rebecca cracked her knuckles, looking more intrigued than afraid. "So what if he's got an army? Let him send every last rat in this place. I'll take them all out one by one if I have to."
Lucy's gaze shifted to Rebecca, her expression unreadable. "You always think you can muscle your way through everything, don't you?"
Rebecca shrugged. "If it works, it works." She stomped on another rat, then turned to David with a smirk. "What, you getting scared, D?"
David scowled, though there was a flicker of unease in his eyes. "I just don't like things crawling all over me. Especially when they're... unnatural." He gestured to the augmented rat Lucy was holding. "Something about this whole setup feels... wrong."
"Wrong how?" Lucy asked, tilting her head.
"Like we're walking into some kind of ritual," David replied slowly, struggling to find the right words. "This place doesn't feel like just a hideout for some creep with a rat fetish. It feels… bigger. Like he's turned this whole factory into something twisted. Like we're in his territory, and he knows it."
Lucy nodded, her eyes scanning the darkness. "I've been feeling that too. This place... it's not just a building. It's almost like he's sanctified it somehow." She glanced down at the metal fragment in her hand. "He's twisted these creatures into extensions of himself. Like each rat is a limb, and he's the brain controlling it all."
Rebecca scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "You're both overthinking this. It's a factory full of rats. Big deal. We go in, we take him out, and we go home. End of story."
Lucy raised an eyebrow. "You think it's going to be that simple?"
Rebecca's smirk grew, a spark of defiance in her eyes. "No. But that's what makes it fun."
David let out a sigh, adjusting his grip on his weapon. "Fun for you, maybe. Some of us like to avoid being swarmed by mutant rats if we can help it."
"Aw, D, don't tell me you're going soft on us," Rebecca teased, nudging his shoulder as she strode past with a cocky grin. "Where's that bravery you showed when you were stomping rats like a madman? Don't tell me you're just trying to impress your queen."
David felt his face go red, and he quickly looked away, mumbling, "I just... wanted to make sure she didn't get hurt." His voice was defensive, but he couldn't quite hide the flicker of pride in his eyes as he glanced at Lucy.
Lucy's lips quirked up in a soft, amused smile, though her focus remained sharp. "Keep that spirit up, D," she said, not missing a beat. There was a warmth in her voice that softened the tension in his shoulders. "We'll need every ounce of it if we're going to make it through this."
With a practiced flick, she extended the thin, razor-sharp monowire from her wrist. It hummed faintly, the only sound in the oppressive silence of the factory besides the rustling and scratching of rats. A split second later, a rat launched itself at her from the shadows. Lucy's arm moved like a whisper—graceful, effortless—and the rat's body split cleanly in two, falling to the ground in a wet thud.
Rebecca let out a low whistle, her grin widening. "Now that's what I call precision. D, you'd better step up your game if you want to impress our fearless leader."
David rolled his eyes, fighting back another blush. "I think I'm doing just fine, thanks," he muttered, crushing another rat under his heel with a satisfying crunch. "Maybe you're just jealous you're not getting the attention."
Rebecca laughed, unfazed. "Oh, please. I'd rather have a good fight than a fan club." She glanced back at Lucy, an almost mischievous glint in her eyes. "But hey, if you want to knight him, be my guest. Sir David, Defender of Queens and Slayer of Rats."
Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. "All right, cut it out, you two," she said, a note of authority in her voice, though her expression was still amused. "I'd rather we all get through this in one piece. Let's keep the flirting to a minimum until we're out of the Rat King's lair, yeah?"
David's blush deepened, and he coughed, glancing away. "Wasn't... wasn't flirting," he mumbled, but even he didn't sound convinced. Still, he squared his shoulders, gripping his weapon a little tighter. "Anyway, less talking, more clearing out this rat infestation."
Rebecca's smirk softened into something almost approving. "Look at you, taking charge," she said, giving him a playful punch on the arm. "Maybe you do have what it takes, D. Let's see if you can keep it up."
Lucy just smiled, slipping past them both, her monowire humming softly as she dispatched another rat with a flick of her wrist. "Eyes forward, everyone. We're just getting started."
The sound of scuttling grew louder, as if the swarm could sense their resistance and had decided to retaliate. The rats began to pour in from every direction, a shifting, writhing mass of fur, teeth, and glowing eyes. They moved like a single, pulsating organism, surging forward as one.
"Looks like he's getting impatient," Lucy muttered, stepping back to form a triangle with David and Rebecca. "He knows we're here."
Rebecca cracked her knuckles, her eyes gleaming. "Good. I was getting bored."
David adjusted his stance, bracing himself. "Just... stay close, all right? We're not taking any unnecessary risks."
Rebecca snorted. "Speak for yourself, D." She lunged forward, driving her boot into another rat, her laughter echoing through the factory. "Let him send everything he's got. We'll show him what real hunters look like."
Lucy and David exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them. They knew Rebecca would charge in without hesitation, but for all her bravado, there was a method to her madness. She was the spearhead, the shockwave. And they were her support, making sure she didn't fall.
They pressed deeper into the factory, navigating through the twisted corridors of corroded metal and broken machinery, their backs to one another, weapons raised. The rats had stopped swarming in relentless waves, but their presence was still felt—skittering sounds in the shadows, glinting eyes peering at them from cracks in the walls, as if the entire factory were watching them with a thousand tiny, bloodthirsty eyes.
The silence was almost worse than the attack.
David tightened his grip on his pistol, trying to steady his breathing. His nerves were frayed, a knot of tension coiled deep in his stomach. He glanced around, but Lucy and Rebecca moved forward with calm, practiced determination, unfazed by the eerie stillness that had settled over the factory.
Then he heard it—a low, familiar voice, murmuring just loud enough for him to catch.
"David… I don't like this," V whispered, his tone filled with an unease David hadn't heard before. "Something's wrong here. This whole place feels… alive, like it's breathing."
David hesitated, pretending to adjust the strap on his shoulder to avoid drawing attention to the invisible presence beside him. He kept his voice low, his eyes darting around to make sure neither Lucy nor Rebecca could hear. "Yeah, I feel it too," he muttered. "It's like the walls are closing in, like... I don't know, like we're not supposed to be here."
V's voice was soft, but it carried an edge of urgency. "The Rat King… he's more than just some guy with a rat obsession. There's something unnatural about him." A pause, and then, quieter, "Be careful. Don't trust this place. And… watch Rebecca and Lucy. They know what they're doing, but this kind of evil… it doesn't fight fair."
David swallowed hard, nodding, even though he knew V couldn't see it. He cast a glance over at Lucy and Rebecca, who were scanning their surroundings with practiced eyes, oblivious to the weight of dread that had settled over him. For a second, he considered telling them about V's warning, but he dismissed the thought. They wouldn't understand. V was his secret, his edge, even if he wasn't sure exactly how V fit into all this. Not yet, anyway.
"Let's keep moving," Lucy said, her voice a steady anchor amidst the quiet tension. She nodded toward a set of rusted double doors at the end of the corridor. The doors were covered in scratches and stains—some fresh, some old—marking the entryway to something dark, hidden just out of sight.
"Yeah," David replied, forcing himself to match her determined stride. "Let's finish this."
The doors groaned as they pushed through, opening into a vast chamber filled with rusted conveyor belts, broken machinery, and towering piles of scrap metal. The stench of decay was stronger here, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of blood. Overhead, thin beams of light seeped through cracks in the ceiling, casting eerie shadows across the room.
And at the center of it all stood the Rat King.
He was hunched, his form barely human, his skin pale and stretched too tightly over a twisted frame. His eyes glowed with a sickly, feral light, and his face was twisted in a grotesque expression somewhere between a sneer and a snarl. Around him, rats crawled and skittered, climbing up his legs, nesting in his shoulders, their red eyes glinting with a malevolent intelligence.
The Rat King's gaze snapped to them as they entered, and he let out a rasping laugh, a sound that grated against the silence like nails on metal.
"So you've come…" he hissed, his voice layered, as if a thousand voices were speaking through him. "To trespass in my holy kingdom. To desecrate my sacred church." His eyes burned with madness, darting from one of them to the other, lingering a little longer on Rebecca. "You think you can just walk in here and… destroy what I have built?"
Rebecca rolled her eyes, raising her gun with casual defiance. "Yeah, actually. That's exactly what we're here to do." She didn't wait for a response—she just squeezed the trigger.
The gunshot echoed through the chamber, a sharp crack that split the silence. The Rat King's head snapped back, and his body crumpled to the floor. For a moment, everything went still. Lucy and David both held their breath, staring at the unmoving form of the Rat King.
"Is that it?" David asked, disbelief flickering in his eyes. "Did we… actually get him?"
But before anyone could answer, a slow, rasping laugh began to rise from the fallen figure. The Rat King's body twitched, his fingers clawing at the concrete as he dragged himself upright. Blood trickled down his face, but he seemed unfazed, his eyes wilder than ever.
"Oh, poor fools…" he whispered, his voice a manic, chittering whisper. "Do you think a god can be killed so easily?" He spread his arms wide, and the rats surged forward as if called by some invisible force, their eyes glowing in the darkness, a writhing tide of fur and teeth.
"Brace yourselves!" Lucy shouted, stepping back, her monowire ready.
The swarm hit them like a wave. David barely had time to raise his gun before a rat launched itself at his face, claws scratching for his eyes. He stumbled back, yanking the creature away and throwing it to the ground, but another rat was already scrambling up his leg, its teeth sinking into his calf.
"Damn it!" he shouted, firing into the swarm, but his bullets were swallowed up by the mass of bodies. The rats moved as one, a living tide that surged and pulsed, clawing and biting, forcing them back.
Rebecca held her ground, a grim smile on her face as she moved with brutal efficiency. Her gun fired in controlled bursts, each shot precise, dropping rats left and right. When they got too close, she kicked and stomped, her boots caked with blood and fur. "Come on!" she yelled, practically taunting the swarm. "Is that all you've got?"
Lucy, meanwhile, moved like a blade, every motion smooth and calculated. Her monowire sliced through the air in lethal arcs, cutting down rats in waves. She twisted and pivoted, her expression focused, her movements graceful. But even she was struggling to keep up with the sheer volume of attackers.
David, by contrast, was flailing. He managed to shoot a few of the rats, but his aim was wild, his movements frantic. One of the creatures lunged at his shoulder, its teeth finding purchase, and he cried out, slamming his hand down on it to dislodge it. Blood smeared across his arm as he threw it aside, but more were coming, their claws scratching at his skin, their teeth snapping inches from his face.
"David!" Lucy called out, slicing through a cluster of rats that were swarming toward him. "Stay close! Don't let them separate you!"
He nodded, breathless, struggling to keep up. But the rats kept coming, relentless, pouring from every crevice in the walls, the floor, even dropping from above. They were surrounded, a sea of vermin that seemed endless.
Through the chaos, the Rat King's voice rang out, a high, mad cackle that echoed off the factory walls. "You cannot win! This is my kingdom, my temple! Here, I am god!"
Rebecca gritted her teeth, firing shot after shot into the horde. "Lucy, any bright ideas?" she yelled, stamping down on another rat that tried to scramble up her leg.
"We need to take him out!" Lucy shouted, her monowire slicing through another wave of rats. "As long as he's standing, they'll keep coming!"
Rebecca nodded, narrowing her eyes at the Rat King, who stood watching them with an expression of wild glee. "Fine. I'll make him stay down this time."
She took aim, her gun lined up with the Rat King's head. But before she could fire, a swarm of rats launched themselves at her, forcing her to stagger back, her shot going wide. She cursed, firing into the mass, but they were overwhelming her, their claws tearing at her jacket, their teeth biting into her arms.
"Rebecca!" David shouted, instinctively reaching out. But he was too far, and before he could help her, he felt something hit him hard from behind.
He stumbled forward, losing his balance as rats clawed at his legs, his arms, his face. His vision blurred, and he barely managed to throw them off before another wave crashed into him, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"David!" Lucy's voice was distant, muffled, as if she were speaking from underwater. He tried to push himself up, but his body felt heavy, weighed down by the relentless, biting swarm. Claws raked across his skin, and he felt teeth sink into his arm. His vision was starting to darken, the edges of the world blurring into shadows.
Somewhere above him, he heard the Rat King's laughter, mingling with Rebecca's curses and the steady hum of Lucy's monowire. But it all felt far away, fading into a dull, distant roar as the darkness crept in.
The last thing he saw before his vision went black was a blur of movement, Lucy's figure cutting through the rats like a dancer, and Rebecca's voice shouting his name, her tone laced with an urgency he'd never heard before.
Then, silence.
Word Count: 5408
Song: Ratking 1518 by Grim Salvo
I am not gonna lie to you, there is not much action here but, what can you do? I like how it turned out either way. This gives me another thought as we, I might start explaining how the song weaves together with the chapter at the end here (of course no spoilers) if people wanted.
With this chapter, we are cross posted to ao3. You can find me under, Ironictw1st.
I've also been thinking about starting another story up, for another anime/novel/game, but it wouldn't interfere with this, as I would be uploading every Saturday still. I am still deciding on it.
But let me get into the chapter properly here, the Rat King, how possible is it for cyberware to hold that much power in Cyberpunk, probably not that possible but there is a little fantastical element (after all how do you explain time travel?) Well, more of his abilities will be revealed in the next chapter! (Amazing segway from me).
Next Chapter: Heat Stroke
Next Update: 11/2
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