You did not make it far.

The tunnels beneath the surface twist endlessly, but the Ratfolks know them better than breath. You were surrounded before you realized you had been found. Clawed hands seized you from the dark. Muzzles close to your face. Whispered voices deciding your fate before you could speak.

You are dragged through the sewers, past flickering lanterns and carved symbols, until the tunnels widen into something resembling a court.

At its center sits the Rat Emperor.

He lounges on a throne assembled from scavenged relics, broken tools, rusted metal, bones, and scraps of velvet. His glowing eyes settle on you with mild curiosity, not anger. Not hunger. Calculation.

"Well. You made it farther than most humans."

He taps a claw against the armrest.

"Tell me. How might you be useful?"

Before you can answer, movement stirs beside the throne.

A Ratfolk in a deep green toga steps forward. His posture is rigid. Ritualistic. His voice is low, but firm.

"My Emperor. The time has come. The Yearly Offering must not be delayed."

The chamber goes quiet.

The Rat Emperor exhales slowly, clearly annoyed.

"Oh. That’s today, is it?"

He looks back at you, then sighs.

"How inconvenient."

He rises from the throne and gestures dismissively.

"Take the human to the Offering."

No anger. No drama. Just procedure.

You are seized again and led away, deeper into the Underdeep. The tunnels narrow, twist, split, and rejoin, forming a labyrinth that feels intentionally disorienting. The air grows heavier. The stone walls are etched with symbols you do not recognize, layered over one another as if centuries of markings were never meant to be erased.

Finally, you are brought into a chamber unlike the others.

The ground is marked with circular patterns, spirals, and tally-like scratches carved deep into the stone. From above, thick drops of glowing, contaminated sewer water fall slowly, hissing where they strike the floor. The smell is sharp. Metallic. Wrong.

The Ratfolks step back.

They do not untie you.

They do not explain.

They simply leave.

The sound of retreating footsteps fades, leaving you alone in the chamber.

Something is expected of you here.