The air in Ratropolis buzzed with nervous energy as word of the successful nest mission spread. Every rat in the underground city whispered about Tommy Smith—the human who had not only listened to the Rat Gang Crew but also helped them fight back.
Inside The Burrow, the Crew gathered around their map of the construction site, now covered in scribbles, notes, and crumbs from Scarlett’s half-eaten sunflower seed.
Amelie tapped the map with her paw. “Tommy bought us time, but it’s not enough. We need a long-term solution.”
Scarlett frowned, her tail flicking impatiently. Rats and mice do not have a voice, and nor do human kids, rat gang members of not. We can't march into the human Parliament and demand our rights.'
Atlas looked sad, "We have no rights," he said looking down at the floor.
“We don’t have to march,” Ivy said, pulling a small book out of her satchel. Its cover read Tales of Old Ratropolis. “The elders always said our city is protected by ancient warnings in the walls—old carvings left by the first mice and rats. They claimed the carvings held the key to defending Ratropolis.”
Atlas tilted his head, skeptical. “Carvings? You mean like the doodles on the sewer pipes? I’ve seen them. They’re just scratches.”
“Not scratches,” Ivy corrected. “Symbols. I think they’re a map.”
Amelie’s ears perked up. “A map to what?”
“I don’t know,” Ivy admitted, flipping through the pages. “But if it’s real, it could be our answer.”
Scarlett snorted. “Great. So now we’re chasing fairy tales? I think we need a back up plan."
“Fairy tales or not,” Amelie said, “it’s worth a try. We don’t have many options.”
Scarlett was thoughtful. "I will get a message to Tommy. I have an idea."
Scarlett wrote in her best mouse handwriting a message to Tommy. She wrote it in code in case it was intercepted. This was after all, a secret mission.
Dear Tommy,
The stars are brighter where the diggers sleep. A colony of night flyers would make quite the spectacle there. They love the cool air and the promise of undisturbed skies.
If their wingbeats could echo under the moonlight near your dad’s machines, it might just be enough to make people stop and stare. Perhaps you know how to send the invitation to these midnight guests?
Best not to leave crumbs—only soft signs. They follow subtle trails, not loud ones.
Yours in whispers,
S.
Later that night, the Crew ventured into the oldest part of Ratropolis, a maze of tunnels and chambers untouched by time. The air smelled of mildew and history, and the walls were slick with condensation. Ivy led the way, holding her book like a compass.
“This is where the first rats and mice built their homes,” she whispered, her voice echoing softly. “If the carvings are real, they’ll be here.”
“Real or not, it’s creepy,” Atlas muttered, glancing around. His usual bravado wavered as the shadows seemed to move.
Scarlett offered support “Don’t be scared. It’s only —”
Her words were cut off by a loud rumble. The floor beneath them trembled, and dust rained from the ceiling. Amelie steadied herself against the wall. “What was that?”
“Construction,” Ivy said grimly. “They’re starting again. We need to hurry.”
As they pressed deeper into the tunnels, they found it—a section of the wall covered in strange, intricate carvings. The symbols twisted and curved like vines, forming shapes that almost seemed alive.
“This is it,” Ivy said, her voice trembling with excitement. “The warnings in the walls.”
Amelie stepped closer, tracing a paw over the carvings. “What do they mean?”
Ivy began taking rubbings of the carvings and symbols. “They’re directions… but to where?”
Before anyone could answer, another rumble shook the tunnel. This time, it was louder, more violent. A chunk of the ceiling fell, narrowly missing Scarlett.
“Move!” Amelie shouted, leading them back the way they came. The tunnels groaned as if the earth itself were protesting. Dust and rocks began to fall from above.
Back at The Burrow, the Crew huddled together, shaken but unharmed. Ivy spread out her book and looked at her rubbings, trying to decipher the carvings.
“I don’t think they’re just warnings,” she said. “They’re instructions. They lead to something buried deep under Ratropolis.”
“Something that could save us?” Amelie asked.
“Or destroy us,” Ivy replied. “The symbols… they talk about power. But also danger.”
Atlas folded his arms. “Great. First humans, now mysterious rat magic. What’s next—talking pigeons?”
Scarlett smirked. “Don’t give the pigeons any ideas.”
Amelie straightened, determination shining in her eyes. “Whatever the carvings lead to, we’ll figure it out. It’s our home, and we’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.”
Meanwhile Tommy finds a piece of paper, the handwritten message from Scarlett. He noticed how beautiful her writing was as he read the code.
And he knew exactly to do.
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