The sewers do not welcome mistakes.

You realize this the moment the tunnel seals behind you.

Stone grinds against stone. Metal locks snap into place. The faint echo of water is replaced by silence.

Too clean.

This is not a forgotten passage. This is a choke point.

Lights flicker to life along the walls, casting long shadows across the damp stone. You are not alone.

Shapes move in the dark. Ratfolk. Armored. Silent. Their eyes never leave you.

You are disarmed before you can react.

Then the pressure changes.

The air feels heavier. Sharper.

Someone approaches. They do not rush.

The Rat Prince stops just outside your reach. He looks human at first glance. Tall. Composed. Then you see the ears. The tail. The faint gleam of incisors when he speaks.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

His voice is calm. Not angry. Worse.

Certain.

“Do you know how many tunnels lead down from the surface?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer.

“Too many.”

He circles you slowly, eyes never leaving your face.

“Every breach is a risk. Every risk becomes a weakness. And weaknesses get kingdoms killed.”

He stops in front of you.

“I am responsible for making sure that doesn’t happen.”

A pause.

“You will tell me exactly how you got in.”

His gaze hardens slightly.

“And then we will decide whether you are a threat… or an example.”