The moment my ears picked up the faint creak of the door opening downstairs, my senses snapped to attention. A jolt of adrenaline rushed through as I heard the first footstep cross the threshold. I sprang from the table, my eyes looking around the room for any place to hide or a way out. Ziggy stuck close, his eyes mirroring my panic, searching for the same hiding spot or escape route as he could feel the same impending threat crawling beneath his skin.

The rats ran frantically from their cages, racing up the wall toward the cracked hole in the window. Rusty was already there, ushering them through, while Flynn was still fumbling with the stubborn lock on the last cage in the bottom row. Inside, the rat squeaked in panic, urging him to hurry. The lock finally gave way with a click and the cage door swung open. She bolted out in a flash, darting up the wall to join the others, then disappearing through the hole.

“Alright, that's everyone,” Rusty said, glancing over the scurrying rats before signaling Flynn. “Come on, let's get out of here.”

But Flynn hesitated. He swept the room like he was trying to search for a missing piece of a puzzle.

“Wait a minute,” he said, voice rising in panic. His eyes locked onto Rusty, filled with worry. “I didn’t see Wynn. Where’s Wynn?”

Rusty's expression darkened. “He was taken to the Kill Room... It’s too late, Flynn. We can’t save him.”

Flynn’s head shook vigorously. “I won’t leave him behind! You take the others home. I’ll catch up.”

“Flynn!” Rusty’s voice trembled.

“I said go!”

As he took in a deep, resigned breath, Rusty’s shoulders slumped. He turned, crouching down to slip through the hole.

The footsteps were growing louder, now making their way up the stairs. In less than thirty seconds, someone—God help me if it was the masked stranger—would step through that door. My mind raced. Flynn darted to the far side of the table, hiding behind a leg, his small body shaking. I had seconds to decide, to act. There was only one plan that came to mind: someone had to go out there, create a distraction, buy the others enough time to hide or maybe even unlatch the window and slip through.

Ziggy had a family; he’d just become a father. The thought of Wanda and the kittens living without him was unbearable. It twisted my gut. I couldn’t live with myself, not with that kind of guilt beating down on me for however many long years I had left in this world.

And Flynn... well, Flynn was just a rat. He didn’t stand a chance out there.

It had to be me.

“Get that window open,” I ordered Ziggy, pointing to it with a paw.

Ziggy shot me a bewildered look, his eyes wide with confusion. “But what are you going to do?”

“I’ll distract the human,” I said, forcing the words through the lump in my throat. “You focus on getting the hell out of here.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Don't worry about me.”

“Page, you–”

“I said don't worry about me. Just do it!” I snapped, more forceful than I intended, knowing there was no time for debate.

I slipped through the door, my claws instinctively flexing, itching to unsheathe. My whole body shook, every muscle wound tight like a spring. The hairs along my spine stood rigid as fear and adrenaline coursed through me. I dropped into a hunting stance—low crouch, back arched, ready.

Then I saw it. Black hair. The top of a head coming into view, inch by inch. Dark brown eyes locked with mine as a face slowly emerged from the steps.

“Page!”

The voice sent a wave of warmth through me. I knew that voice—Alan! My heart surged. Alan! Without thinking, I leapt up, landing by her feet just as she stepped onto the top landing. It was her, after all this time.

I weaved between her legs, brushing my side against her calves, tail curling up in an arc. Standing on my hind legs, I reached up toward her, my paws suspended in the air. She scooped me up in one smooth motion, cradling me in her arms like I belonged there.

“What in the world are you doing here?” she asked, relieved but confused.

Alan, it's a long story—I wanted to say—You wouldn’t believe me! First, the dog. Lee! Bad dog he is! Gets high off of pufferfish. Then we got attacked by a rat with a blob thing in its mouth. It tried to kill us. But my brother, Ziggy, came to the rescue and then we went to Little Eden, that's where he lives. He's got a forever partner and kittens! Four kittens! And, oh, poor Tinker! And his family…

I know all she could hear was just me meowing away, but I wanted to show her how relieved and happy I was to see her.

“Gunther and I have been searching everywhere for you,” she continued, pulling me closer, her cheek pressing warmly against mine as her fingers found that perfect spot just behind my right ear. I felt a calmness spreading from my head to my toes.

She sighed. “You really scared me this time. I thought I lost you for good. You can’t keep doing this! Don’t go running off without telling me where you’re headed, okay?”

Oh, how I wished we could stay like this forever, wrapped in warmth and safety. But there were urgent matters to settle. I wriggled out of her embrace, already feeling the cold emptiness as I slipped to the floor and padded toward the door.

“Do you want to show me something?” she asked, curiously, as she followed me. Slowly, she pushed the door open, only to gasp at the sight before her.

“What in the world…” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

The blue light image of Floating City glowed in the middle of the room. She raised a hand tentatively and brushed her fingers on a spot—the seaport. The image zoomed in, focusing on a small boat bobbing on the water. One fisherman on the deck was untangling nets. Another sorted the fresh catch, sifting through a tub of clams and shrimp.

With both hands, she pinched the map, the translucent grid expanding and collapsing under her touch like a living thing. The city shrank away, reduced to a sprawl of glittering grids and tiny nodes—until she found it, the Council Hall. She zoomed back in, the map reconstructing itself in flickering layers of light. The Council Hall appeared in the air. Five stories of steel and stone, crowned by a glass dome that gleamed like a cold, unblinking eye. The tallest structure in the city.

The black metal device, glowing neon blue, softly hummed as it projected the map of Floating City, the sprawl of it flickering in and out of focus. She hesitated, then stepped forward, her hand cutting through the light as she approached the rocks on the workbench.

I vaulted onto the table, shielding my eyes from the bright light. Alan had already grabbed the glowing device. Her fingers grazed an unseen switch, causing the lights to stutter, the map glitching momentarily. Suddenly, Floating City vanished. In its place, an aerial view of the ocean appeared. Then, like a gannet plunging into the water’s depths, we were thrown under sea.

What I saw next defied everything I thought I knew. Mountain ranges rose from the ocean floor, their jagged peaks lost in shadow. In the valleys between them, the ruins of a forgotten civilization lay entombed—skeletal remains of buildings, vehicles, roads—all now claimed by swaying forests of sea plants. A world buried. A world waiting to be discovered.

The image blinked, then sharpened, centering on a shadowy hollow carved into the mountainside. A red dot pulsed steadily in the darkness, drawing my focus deeper into the void. What lay beyond that gaping entrance? I couldn’t tell. Before I could find out, Alan’s hand moved quickly, brushing the surface of the device.

The pulsating light vanished, and with it, the map; the image swallowed by the strange artifact until all that remained was the smooth metallic black rock. No more glowing lines, no more blue light, just its weird, etched patterns, silent once again.

“This is…” Alan faltered, words failing as she stared at the device. “Wow, I need to show these to Captain Francis and the City Council.”

Without hesitation, she slipped the first device into the pocket of her dark green coat. As she reached for the second one, it came alive in her hand. A soft hum, and then a green light snaked through the etched lines. In a flash, the face of an old man wavered above it, suspended in the glow.

Human… At least, I thought so. But something wasn’t right. His head was too large, the cheekbones misaligned, one jutted out awkwardly higher than the other. His thin lips stretched tight over a sagging, mottled face, speckled with odd patches. He looked tired, ancient, but there was a wrongness about him, a distortion that made my hackles rise.

“The Security Council received your message,” he said, his eyes were on Alan, or so I thought. Then I noticed the glazed, distant look. He wasn’t speaking to her at all, but to something unseen. “We are disappointed to learn that Phase One of the Resurface Mission is behind schedule. You must get back on track immediately. We need to advance to Phase Two—human subjects—within the month. No more delays. Submit a progress report to Central Command in three days.”

As quickly as it had appeared, the image dissolved. The green light blinked out. The device fell silent, the hum fading to a dead hush. It was just a cold, black object again, inert and lifeless, as though it had never been anything more than an ordinary stone with strange etchings.