You used to lead a peaceful life. And somehow you had naively thought that it would always remain peaceful. But you were wrong. A war broke out. Not one you could ever have forseen.

They were not humans. Not fully, at least. Some called themselves the Dogfolk, others called themselves Catfoiks. They had animal ears, claws and fangs. They were stronger. They you run faster. Their reflexes were sharper. They could hear and see better. They even had a sense of smell that was above anything you could have imagined. Humanity never stood your chance.

They fought on the land where you had lived your whole life. The quiet hills, the sleepy towns, the forests you once wandered as a child. All of it turned to ash and ruin.

The Dogfolk and Catfolk tore through everything. Homes were reduced to rubble. Families were scattered. And the humans they found… They captured them. For what purpose, no one knew. Some whispered of experiments. Others spoke of breeding. You didn’t stay long enough to find out.

You ran.

You were not certain know who was chasing you. Dogfolk, Catfolk, maybe both. It didn’t matter. You kept on until your legs gave out, until your lungs burned and your vision blurred. You collapsed in the mud, trembling, heart hammering in your chest. There was no way to hide. These creatures could smell you. Track you. Hunt you down like prey.

That’s when the idea struck you. The sewers.

No one would look for you there. Not even them. You stumbled toward a rusted grate, pried it open with bloodied fingers, and dropped into the darkness below. The stench hit you like a wall—rot, mildew, decay. But it was better than what waited above.

You moved through the tunnels, guided only by the faint trickle of water and the echo of your own footsteps. Then… noises. Skittering. Whispers. Claws on stone.

You froze.

Suddenly, something grabbed you from behind. It was too dark, you couldn't see.

You screamed, but it was swallowed by the dark. You were thrown hard onto the wet floor, pain blooming across your side. Voices surrounded you. Low, guttural, amused.

Then one voice rose above the rest. It was smooth, commanding and cold.

“Well, well. What do we have here? A human. How quaint.”

You blinked, trying to adjust to the gloom. Shapes emerged. Eyes gleamed. And then you saw him.

He was seated on a throne cobbled together from broken glass, rusted spoons, doll heads, bones, and scraps of velvet. The man was handsome, regal and... plain terrifying. A crown of twisted wire sat atop his head. His tail curled lazily around the base of the throne. His ears twitched, sharp. But he wasn’t Dogfolk. He wasn’t Catfolk. He was something else.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he raised a clawed hand.

"Silence. I am the Rat Emperor. You are in my kingdom, and I do not appreciate trespassers. Humans are not allowed down here. I don't care who you are or what led you into my territory… I want to know what you will do for me if I choose to spare your life. What can you do? What are your skills? Make it good. I am not known for my mercy. Now... speak. Or die."