“Page… is it safe?” Ziggy’s voice came in a half-whisper, the kind that made you doubt whether he was more afraid of being heard or of the answer. His head emerged slowly from under the table.

I glanced at Alan, who stood dumbfounded, staring at the devices. Her expression was hard to read, the kind you see on someone who’s starting to question what reality actually means. I wasn't even sure if I believed what I knew about the world was true anymore.

“You can come out now,” I said, keeping my voice low. “It’s safe… for now.”

But Ziggy lingered, as his eyes darted between me and Alan.

“She’s with us,” I reassured him. “She's an officer from NOAH 1. We're partners in this investigation.”

Alan finally shook out of her reverie and swiped the rock off the table, putting it in her pocket with the other device. “This is definitely something we need to tell the captain about,” she muttered to herself, “What is the Resurface Mission? And… human subjects? Maybe the city is in danger.”

As she took a step back, a startled cry slipped from her lips. She nearly lost her balance, her foot skimming over Ziggy’s tail as he darted out of the way. Regaining her footing, she glanced down. Her tense expression softened, and she knelt, extending a hand toward him, an unspoken invitation.

“Oh, hey there, little guy,” she said, gently. “You must be one of Page's friends.”

Ziggy edged forward, hesitant, each step a wary calculation. His nose twitched as he sniffed her outstretched hand, testing the air around it. Then, he gave in, his body melting under her touch. Her fingers brushed lightly over the top of his head, and he leaned into the gentle scratch.

The moment didn't last long. Something gray streaked from the corner, slipping past the door in a blur. Instinct took over. I leaped from the table and raced after it. I didn’t need to guess. Flynn. It had to be Flynn. Ahead, the door at the end of the hallway stood slightly ajar. I moved fast, pushing it open with my shoulder.

I skidded to a halt. Flynn was climbing up the leg of a table. My breath hitched. Atop the table stood a large box with transparent sides, and inside, a dark brown rat. But this one…something was off. He was larger than the average rat. His black eyes had begun to cloud over, turning milky as if diseased or twisted by some unnatural mutation. He circled the cage restlessly, and every few seconds slamming his body against the walls with a dull thud, like he was fighting something inside of him.

I glanced to the side—a water tank, murky, with a blob suspended in the liquid. I blinked, trying to make sense of it. Then I saw more around the room. Tanks lined up, each one holding blobs with hundreds of tendrils drifting aimlessly within the stagnant water. This was the Kill Room. The place where the masked stranger performed his experiments, warping the rats into something else. Something that shouldn't exist.

Realization hit me about what Flynn was about to do. I lunged, swatting him off the table, and he hit the floor with a dull thud.

“Don’t you dare get in my way!” he snarled, scrambling back to his feet, eyes blazing with fury. “That’s my brother up there!”

He set his bag aside as its weight would slow his climb. Calling out, he said, “Wynn! It's me Flynn. Hold on tight. I'm coming to get you. We're going home.”

He made another run toward the table leg, but before he could climb it, I pinned his tail with my paw. He jerked back and tumbled onto his bottom.

“That's not your brother anymore,” I said.

“I can't just leave him here!” he choked, struggling to hold back a sob. But the look on his face told me he knew I was right. Whatever was in that cage was no longer the brother he once knew.

In that instant, Ziggy burst into the room, with Alan close behind.

“What the hell is this?” they both gasped, their eyes wide with bewilderment as they stared at the tanks.

Alan moved to the table, leaning in to peer into the box with a mix of curiosity and disgust. I stepped back, readying myself to leap onto the table, but paused when I felt a paw on my shoulder.

“Careful,” Ziggy warned. “We don't know what's up there. This place…” he glanced nervously at the blobs in the tanks and then up at the box where Flynn's brother was slamming himself against the walls. “You know what? Maybe we should just get out of here.”

“I can't abandon my duties, Ziggy,” I said. “Don't you want to know what happened to Tinker? To the rats? It can happen to any of us.”

Before he could argue, I made the jump and landed on the table, my paws hitting something flat, smooth, and cold. Stepping back, I realized it was a white stone slab with lines and odd geometrical shapes. I must’ve pressed on something, because a green light came on and danced across the surface. Then I heard a faint ringing. It was quiet, but it was unmistakably there. Ziggy’s ears also perked up at the sound.

“Where's that sound coming from?” I wondered, looking around. Alan didn't seem to be alarmed by it, maybe she couldn't hear it the way we could.

“It's everywhere,” said Ziggy.

“The sound is doing something to Wynn,” Flynn said, now peering into the box after climbing the table leg. His sudden appearance startled Alan, who staggered back with a cry of surprise and disgust.

Flynn was right. Something was happening to Wynn. He had stopped slamming against the walls and stood perfectly still, his nose twitching as he looked in my direction, like a soldier awaiting orders. I touched the slab again, and the ringing shifted into a low hum. Wynn visibly relaxed, the cloudiness in his eyes fading. Now, he seemed to finally recognize Flynn.

“Flynn, is that you?” He asked, a sigh of relief escaping him. “Are you here to take me home?”

Flynn pressed his palms against the window. “Yes, you're coming home today,” he answered, “and we'll have a nice dinner with Mother, Rusty, Suzy, Yarn, and others in the village. I'll ask Yarn to whip up your favorite– corn porridge. I made a deal with the cats; we can get whatever we want from Little Eden now.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” Wynn said, though he sounded as if the dinner was more a distant dream than a real possibility. “I'm kind of sick and tired of having that gloop the man kept feeding us,” he added, gesturing toward a small bowl in the corner of his cage, filled with a thick, clear liquid. “It's deliciously sweet, gives you a calming effect but I could really go for a bowl of corn porridge.”

"What’s that humming?” Alan asked, glancing around the room, trying to pinpoint the source of the low hum. Her eyes fell on the white stone slab, and she added, “Page, you probably shouldn’t be sitting on that!”

She waved her hand in front of me, gesturing for me to move aside. I hopped off and settled beside Wynn’s cage as she carefully lifted the slab, avoiding the green light tracing lines across its surface.

“I’m going to get you out,” said Flynn, inspecting the corners of the cage for a latch or a small opening where he could wedge his wire tool to pry it open.

“Flynn,” Wynn began, his voice heavy with resignation, "you and your friends need to leave this place.”

“What are you talking about? I told you, we're going home.”

“No, don't. I can’t be helped. If I’m set free, I’ll be a danger to everyone. There's something inside of me. I don't know what it is but it's controlling me.”

“Don’t say that, Wynn…”

“Leave now!”

Wynn slammed his fists against the window. Flynn flinched, stepping back, his face filled with devastation.

“Page! There’s another door over here,” Ziggy called, moving toward a door in the corner of the room, partially concealed behind a row of tanks.

Curious, I padded across the table, then leaped down to stand beside Ziggy, both of us staring up at the door.

Alan! Come take a look at this, I called out.

Alan set down the slab and walked over, frowning. “What’s going on, guys? Did you find something? Oh, another door..”

“That’s the Kill Room,” Wynn said.

“I thought this was the Kill Room,” I replied, glancing around the room we were in.

“No,” Wynn shook his head. “This is the Operating Room. This is where the madman injected that blob thing into us. I remember… he lifted the top of the cage, stuck me with something, and suddenly… I couldn’t move. My arms, legs, even my head. It was like my body was frozen. Then he just left the blob thing here with me. I couldn’t escape… I couldn’t stop it. It came at me so fast. Everything went black after that. When I woke up, I was filled with rage… but the madman controlled us, using sound.”

“No…” Ziggy whispered, “maybe we shouldn’t…”

But Alan's fingers were already gripping the knob. As she slowly twisted it open, Lee’s barking erupted outside. Louder, more frantic than before. The sound cut through the silence like a warning. Something was wrong. Lee never barked like that unless there was real danger.

I tore out of the room and came to a stop at the top of the stairs. Below, the masked stranger was halfway through the door, thrashing as Lee’s teeth sank deep into his leg. The dog snarled and growled.

With a vicious jerk, the stranger finally shook Lee loose, kicking him brutally in the maw. Lee let out a pained yelp as he was hurled off the steps, and he crashed onto the pavement outside.

The man stepped fully into the shop and slammed the door behind him with a heavy thud. My breath caught as his head snapped up. I ducked, backing away and pressing myself into the shadows, praying he hadn’t seen me.