Our hero stepped into the light, carefully skirting the shriveled blob. His sleek, muscular body was covered in short, blue fur. It was a hue of deep cerulean blue that shimmered like the ocean waves.

Without wasting another second, we rushed toward each other. His tail shot up in excitement, and a joyful meow escaped his throat.

We had started the same—pulled from the same litter discarded in the trash. But from there, our lives took paths neither of us could have foreseen. He remained behind in the Floating City, while I found my way aboard NOAH 1. And now, here he was—my blood, my brother. Ziggy.

He greeted me with a delighted headbutt, and I responded with a playful swat at his ear. We circled one another, pausing to rub our sides together, savoring the warmth of our shared bond.

Ziggy winced and staggered back, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. But then he straightened, forcing himself to stand tall.

“You're hurt!” I exclaimed, noticing the slow seep of blood where the rat's nails had sliced through fur and flesh on his shoulder.

“Oh, it’s merely a scratch,” he replied with forced nonchalance. But I wasn’t fooled; I could sense the discomfort pulsing through him, masked by a thin veneer of indifference.

“So, how did you find out I was here?” I asked.

He glanced between me and Lee, a chuckle escaping his lips. “You two stirred up quite a commotion on the Old Rig.”

“That’s because I was trying to catch Lee for stealing and destroying property!”

Lee rolled his eyes. “Nobody got hurt, at least. Well, I mean…” His voice trailed off, his eyes shifting to the dead pufferfish and the blob. “But that's not my fault!”

“Anyway, I happened to be up there myself,” Ziggy continued, “just picking up a fresh mackerel for my missus, when I heard a loud crash from one of the tents. The next thing I knew, a dog came barreling out with a fish in his mouth, and a very pissed off cat screeching right on his tail. So, I thought it had to be you, brother.”

“Thank God you found us!” Lee exclaimed, his tail wagging. “We’d have been dead meat, I swear! Cooked!”

I crouched closer to the blob, its sickly sweet odor of decay growing stronger. My attention drifted toward the rat next. It wasn’t just big. It was unusually large, almost my size! The largest rat I had ever laid eyes on.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” I muttered in awe and disbelief.

Ziggy, standing beside me, seemed unfazed. “I have,” he replied calmly, his face growing serious. “I've been seeing more of these... things cropping up lately. The humans dismiss them as odd sea urchins or strange anemones. They think they're harmless—at least, harmless to them. But to us..."

He pointed at the rat, its headless and mangled corpse sprawled before us. “Well, you can see the result for yourself.”

“Where do you think they’re coming from?” I asked, a knot of dread tightening in my chest. "Could this have something to do with the masked stranger?”

Ziggy looked toward the alley’s entrance, where a few pedestrians had gathered, drawn by some perverse curiosity. As soon as they registered the scene—the headless rat, the deflated blob, the bloated fish—horror twisted their faces, and they recoiled, retreating back into the safety of their mundane lives. I envied them in that moment, their ignorance, their ability to look away and keep walking.

“Let’s not talk here,” Ziggy said, his tone clipped, as he agilely vaulted onto a pile of boxes. Without hesitation, he sprang toward the ledge of the half-wall at the alley’s end. “Follow me,” he added.

We followed him down yet another narrow alley, which soon opened into a market alive with activity. Faces flickered in and out of focus, lost in the rituals of daily survival. We moved on, crossing a bridge, leading us to the next borough – Little Eden, where the humans had built sprawling greenhouses. Within these glass domes, constructed from soda bottles, mugs, and shards of colorful glass resembling a kaleidoscope, their fragile crops struggled to thrive—a desperate attempt to control what little of nature remained.

Jimmy had told the younger stewards about this once. It was before the Great Wrath—before everything had gone sideways. He’d been on his farm, watching the slow decay of the world. The world, he had said, seemed to be teetering on the edge of disaster, and he knew that he ought to preserve a fragment of it—not just for his own survival, but for the future of humanity.

Seeds—he had to save the seeds. He boxed them up, hundreds, maybe thousands, with the quiet certainty of a man who knows that the future no longer belongs to him. But when the storm of destruction came, fast and without warning, there wasn’t time to think, only to move. He couldn’t take them all, not by a long shot. But he saved what he could, clutching those boxes, the last pieces of the old world, as he held on tight for his dear life.

Although the seeds had been saved and humans could grow food once more, Little Eden was not immune to the threat of rats—cunning little creatures that would slip in under the veil of night, intent on pilfering a carrot or radish from the garden’s bounty. That’s where we came in, the cats. The gardeners relied on cats to patrol the grounds, to hunt down the vermin. Whether the rats lived to be sold to a vendor or died, it mattered little to them, so long as the greenhouses remained untouched, the fruits of their labor unspoiled by the gnawing teeth of marauders.

A multitude of cats roamed Little Eden, guarding and loitering outside the domes. And if they weren't on duty, they rested in makeshift shelters that could snugly accommodate four cats. The gardeners routinely tidied these homes and replenished the bowls of food and fresh water.

Ziggy and his forever partner, Wanda, resided within a large plastic bin draped with a translucent tarp, propped above like a tent supported by slender metal rods. Their humble abode lay nestled near the entrance of a dome.

“What's taken you so long?” A cat slipped gracefully through an opening cut out of the bin. Her fur was a map of delicate swirls and stripes in tawny browns, burnt oranges, and soft grays. Her emerald eyes, flaring with both worry and annoyance, softened the moment they met mine.

“Page! Is it truly you?” She cried with a bright expression. “It's been months—so many months!”

She rushed toward me, her forehead brushing mine in a gesture of affection.

“Sorry I haven’t been by as much as I should,” I replied, feeling a twinge of guilt in my chest.

“That’s because he’s been off living the high life, playing shipmate,” Lee interjected with a hearty laugh, a crooked grin twisting across his face.

Wanda turned toward him, offering only a brief nod. “Lee,” she said, her tone sharp as a blade, “nice to see you out of the Shelter for once.”

“I never belonged there. That place isn’t for me.”

“But have you been staying out of trouble?”

“Oh, well, you know, I don’t go looking for trouble,” Lee smirked, “trouble always finds me.”

“I’m sure.” Her words dripped with skepticism.

Ziggy cleared his throat, interrupting their exchange. “I hate to say it, my love, but I need to go out again.”

“Again?” Wanda’s voice was edged with frustration. “Did you even get the food for—” She stopped abruptly, her eyes locking onto the dark stain on his shoulder. “Blood! Ziggy, what happened?” Concern flashed across her face.

“We had a brief encounter with a vermin,” Ziggy replied, casually.

“A rat? Oh god… was it—was it possessed?”

“Yes, but don't worry, it’s gone now.”

Wanda shuddered as a tremor ran through her body. “I hate it when you're out there too long. It’s too dangerous with those things crawling around. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, like what happened to Tinker.”

“That’s exactly why I have to show Page what became of Tinker,” Ziggy said, his tone firm but gentle. “He needs to see what’s been happening in Floating City since his last visit.” In a gesture of comfort, he nuzzled his head against her cheek, a soft purr escaping him. “But I won’t be long. I promise.”

At that moment, a chorus of small voices echoed from the house. One by one, four little furry heads peeked out from the open doorway, their eyes wide and curious. They stared at me and Lee for a moment, but the second they caught sight of Ziggy, their dark gray eyes lit up. In unison, they cried out with uncontainable joy, “Papa! Papa!”