The palace dungeon cells were dimly lit, shadows pressing heavy against the stone walls. Moisture dripped from somewhere unseen, each drop echoing with maddening regularity. Garret stood with his massive arms crossed over his broad chest, watching impassively as Lorne paced before Rixis's cell. The imprisoned rat sat chained to the wall, his defiance visibly fraying as exhaustion and dread settled into his furrowed brow.
"You know, Rixis," Lorne started casually, a dangerous edge in his voice, "the sooner you talk, the sooner we can all go home. Well not you, you can rot here for all I care."
Rixis sneered, ears pinned back defiantly despite the visible tremble in his paws. "You really think threats'll loosen my tongue? I've dealt with far worse than you."
Garret shifted his weight slowly, eyeing Rixis with an almost bored indifference. "Is that right? Then you won't mind when we leave you here alone, chained up and forgotten. After all, Nikodemus surely wouldn't bother coming to rescue a rat like you."
Rixis flinched, eyes darting quickly to Garret, a flicker of panic betraying his bravado. "Nikodemus doesn't care about any of us," he spat bitterly, eyes dropping to the cell floor. "We were just tools, means to an end. Roe always knew it too, the damned fool."
"Then stop protecting him," Lorne growled impatiently, pacing closer to the bars. "Roe's dead, the gang is shattered, and Nikodemus is already moving on. Tell us where he's hiding."
Rixis hesitated, his jaw tightening in silence. Garret moved toward the cell door, calmly producing a heavy iron key from his pocket. The lock clicked ominously, echoing in the cramped stone corridor.
"What are you doing?" Rixis stammered, fear finally cracking his resolve as Garret stepped into the cell, his towering form filling the cramped space.
"Reminding you of your situation," Garret rumbled darkly, crouching slowly beside him. "I don't care how tough you pretend to be. Roe's gone, and no one is coming to save you. You're alone, Rixis, and the only thing standing between you and oblivion is your willingness to help."
Rixis stared at the floor, his breathing quickening as Garret's heavy presence loomed closer. "If I tell you, he'll find me, he'll kill me, or worse. You don't know what he's capable of."
"We have an idea, it's not like we haven't seen the ruined quarter." Lorne replied coldly, "anyway, consciousness-transfer, wasn't it? Sounds dangerous. Tell us about it."
Rixis visibly shuddered, his ears drooping as he relented. "Nikodemus believes he can cheat death itself, move his mind into another body. At first, Roe thought he was just insane. Then, we saw it for ourselves. Rats, humans, it didn't matter. Bodies left empty, minds swapped around. None survived intact."
Garret's expression darkened further. "And where exactly is he doing these experiments?"
Rixis hesitated again, swallowing nervously before speaking. "He has a compound. You take the old sewer channels until you reach the southern outflow. From there, a boat can get you through the flooded tunnels, far enough away to avoid suspicion but close enough for his smugglers to reach on foot."
Lorne exchanged a knowing glance with Garret before pressing further. "How well-guarded is it?"
Rixis shook his head weakly, exhaustion heavy in his voice. "Enough to be a problem, some kinda tech from topside too. Humans, outsiders loyal to Nikodemus. Roe always feared him more than he feared losing the gang. Called him 'Nikodemon,' said he'd use us all until we were dry husks."
Garret straightened slowly, his expression hardening into contempt. "And yet, you still followed Roe blindly, knowing what kind of monster he answered to."
Rixis slumped back against the wall, eyes hollow. "He promised power, wealth. Something more than scraping by in the Rusted Fang's pits. I never knew it would end like this."
Lorne regarded Rixis coldly. "I've seen the circus you ran at The Rusted Fang. You're not exactly a shining example of innocence yourself. Frankly, prison is the best outcome you could hope for."
Rixis's eyes flared briefly with anger, then faded back into weary resignation. "I can give you more, names, routes, whatever you want. Just keep me away from Nikodemus."
Garret looked down at the broken rat, voice low and unyielding. "You're in no position to bargain, but keep talking. If your information pans out, maybe we can keep you alive long enough to see trial."
Lorne stepped toward the cell door, signaling for Garret to follow. "And if you're lying, Rixis, we won't bother saving you from Nikodemus. You'll be on your own."
Rixis sank deeper into the wall, shoulders trembling slightly, realizing the harsh truth of their words. As the cell door slammed shut, leaving him isolated in suffocating silence, Garret turned toward Lorne, voice low and grimly satisfied.
"I think we've got enough. Time to tell the king what we know."
Lorne nodded slowly, casting a final cold glance at Rixis's defeated form. "Let's hope it's enough to finally put an end to all this madness."
Their footsteps echoed away down the corridor, leaving only darkness, silence, and the heavy weight of uncertainty lingering behind them.
Lorne thought back to his time with the UNSC. If Nikodemus has military tech down here who knows just how dangerous this could get. He felt a chill run down his spine as he tried his best to put the memory behind him.
The palace war room buzzed with activity, its atmosphere charged with the energy of urgency and anticipation. Lanterns hung strategically from stone columns, illuminating maps and blueprints strewn across the broad central table. Soldiers and technicians bustled about, preparing equipment and conferring quietly about potential hazards. The Rat King stood near the head of the table, his presence commanding yet quietly reassuring as he conversed with Garret, Lorne, and Castin.
As the door opened, heads turned briefly toward the entryway. Matias appeared, carefully maneuvering Talia into the room in a sturdy wooden wheelchair. She scowled slightly at the chair beneath her, clearly frustrated at needing assistance, but there was a quiet gratitude visible in the softness of her eyes each time Matias glanced down at her.
Castin grinned slightly at the sight, leaning casually against the table as they approached. "Glad you two could make it. Talia, wheels suit you."
"Watch it, smooth skin," Talia retorted playfully, her expression easing into a warm smirk. "You're lucky I'm stuck down here, or I'd kick your butt myself."
Matias chuckled gently, positioning Talia comfortably beside him. He exchanged a brief glance with the King, who nodded approvingly before addressing the assembled group.
"All right, everyone," the King began, his voice strong and resonant, instantly commanding attention. "Thanks to Rixis's cooperation, we finally have actionable intel regarding Nikodemus's location. According to him, Nikodemus has established a compound accessible via the old sewer tunnels south of Rat City. It's isolated enough to evade casual discovery, but still accessible to Roe's traffickers."
Castin shifted slightly, studying the detailed maps carefully spread before them. "What kind of resistance are we expecting?"
Garret stepped forward, paws planted firmly on the table's edge. "From what we gathered, we can count on it. Nikodemus isn't relying on rat muscle; he's got human loyalists, outsiders from the surface armed with weapons we haven't fully identified."
Castin's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Military gear," he muttered darkly. "Nikodemus must've found some friends willing to trade serious hardware."
"It's likely," Red agreed gravely. "Rixis described experiments Nikodemus has been running as consciousness-transfer. He's not just dangerous; he's desperate, driven by an ambition that threatens more than just Rat City."
A heavy silence fell across the table as the implication settled over them. Matias broke it first, his voice steady but edged with quiet tension. "How soon do we move?"
The King's gaze shifted carefully around the table, meeting each of their eyes individually. "As soon as possible, hopefully within the week. We can't risk Nikodemus realizing we know his location and relocating."
Castin nodded sharply, resolve etched deeply into his features. "Then I'd like to lead the mission and I'd like Lorne to join. I'm going to need anyone familiar with Military tech."
Lorne stepped forward quickly, voice firm. "I know someone who might be able to help us, when I was digging for information on Matias I ran into an information broker who had mil-tech security."
Castin nodded "Perfect, fill me in after the briefing."
Vance, fully recovered and standing confidently, crossed his arms with a determined smirk. "After everything Castin put us through last time, I'd feel cheated if I didn't tag along."
Garret chuckled softly "You're just jumpy because you got shot in the arm," he went on, his eyes remained steely and focused. "Tagging along sounds great, long as we bring snacks."
The tension broke slightly, allowing a brief ripple of chuckles around the table. The King's gaze softened, a faint smile tugging at his lips before seriousness reclaimed his expression. "You'll have full resources, whatever weapons, supplies, and personnel you require. This mission is dangerous, and we must treat it accordingly."
From near the back of the room, Kiernan stepped forward, clearing his throat gently. All eyes turned to him as he spoke clearly. "I'll go as well. You guys will need a medic, and frankly, I think Edgar would haunt me forever if I didn't do everything I could to help stop this."
Castin smiled faintly, warmth and respect in his expression. "Glad to have you aboard."
The King's voice regained quiet authority as he stepped toward the table, eyes sweeping the assembled group once more. "Remember what's at stake. This isn't just about Nikodemus. It's about protecting everything we've built here, every life that resides in this city, our city."
A heavy silence lingered briefly before Castin's voice cut through it firmly. "We'll stop him, Red. Whatever it takes."
Red's ear twitched slightly at the nickname, but this time he didn't protest, merely nodded quietly with deep appreciation. "I trust you, all of you. And Rat City will owe you a debt it may never be able to repay."
"We're not doing this for debts," Matias interjected quietly but firmly, glancing down briefly at Talia. "We're doing this because it's right. Because it needs to be done."
A chorus of determined agreement echoed softly around the table. The Rat King straightened, signaling the meeting's conclusion. "Very well. Prepare yourselves and be swift. We leave nothing to chance."
The group began dispersing quickly, each moving with focused determination. Lorne's hands shook imperceptibly as he tightened the straps of his combat harness, the familiar rough texture of woven canvas grounding him slightly. Around him, Castin, Garret, and Matias quietly discussed plans for the coming mission against Nikodemus, voices a muffled drone in his ears. His chest felt tight, anxiety uncoiling slowly inside him, a serpent he'd thought long dormant.
It was Castin's voice that suddenly brought the anxiety sharply into focus. "Whatever tech Nikodemus got from the surface," Castin said, inspecting his rifle carefully, "we've got to assume it'll be military-grade stuff. Anything less and we'll just be fooling ourselves."
Military-grade. Those words echoed ominously in Lorne's mind, pulling him back to a place he'd desperately hoped never to revisit.
His vision swam, memories flooding in like rising water. The confines of the palace faded away, replaced instead by blinding sunlight, the acrid stench of burning steel and fuel, and the deafening roar of warfare.
Smoke billowed black and heavy across the shattered landscape, obscuring everything beyond a few yards. Lorne lay pinned beneath a collapsed barricade, his ears ringing from an explosion moments earlier. Blood trickled down the side of his face, sticky and hot, blurring his vision. He struggled uselessly beneath the twisted metal and concrete, feeling a sharp pain lance through his ribs.
He could barely breathe, each gasp tasting of smoke and dust.
"Commander!" a voice called urgently from somewhere nearby, distorted by gunfire and distant explosions. "We've got to fall back! They're deploying a Titan! It's gonna tear right through us!"
Lorne's heart seized in his chest, ice cascading down his spine at the words. He strained his neck painfully to see beyond the rubble, dread pooling like liquid metal in his gut.
Through the smoke and haze, he saw it—a hulking, monstrous silhouette outlined against the ruined skyline. The mech loomed impossibly tall, thirty feet of armor-plated terror, its chassis humming with an eerie mechanical pulse. It advanced steadily, methodically, utterly unstoppable.
It raised a colossal arm, hydraulics hissing menacingly as it reached out and effortlessly tore through a reinforced barricade as though it were cardboard, sending debris and soldiers alike scattering into the air.
"Fall back!" came another desperate shout, voices quickly drowned by the terrible cacophony of gunfire and hydraulic fury.
Bullets sparked harmlessly against the Titans armor, merely irritating the pilot of the metal beast as it continued its inexorable advance. Its heavy footsteps shook the earth itself, vibrating through Lorne's broken body. He watched helplessly the mech plucking a heavily-armored vehicle like a child's toy and hurling it into the air, where it landed in a heap of fire and shrieking steel.
He had never seen such overwhelming force. It was inhuman, unstoppable, a nightmare made manifest. All their training, their weapons, their strategies—it was nothing against this machine of war.
Desperation clawed at Lorne's throat, tears stinging his eyes as he saw his soldiers—friends—being reduced to nothing beneath the mechanical monstrosity's terrible might. A bitter, helpless rage welled within him, tasting like ash on his tongue.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, the vision flickered, fading back into the present with a shuddering gasp.
Lorne snapped back, eyes wide, heart hammering wildly in his chest. The walls of the palace war room closed in around him again, a reassuring reminder of the here and now.
"You alright, Lorne?" Garret asked quietly, noticing the sudden tension in his friend's posture. "You went somewhere else for a second."
Lorne swallowed thickly, forcing his voice steady. "Yeah," he rasped quietly, glancing sharply at Castin. "I was just thinking, you're right about the tech. If Nikodemus has even a fraction of that firepower, powered armor, exoskeletons, whatever. We'd better pray we're ready. Because once you've seen what that kind of stuff can do, you never forget it."
Castin exchanged a glance with Garret, silent understanding passing between them.
"We'll be ready," Castin reassured firmly, placing a hand on Lorne's shoulder. "Whatever comes at us, we'll face it together."
Lorne nodded stiffly, clinging to Castin's resolve even as the echoes of his past nightmare lingered in the back of his mind.
He silently prayed they'd never witness destruction of that magnitude.