The Rat Gang Crew and the Overgrounders, Chapter 13: The Power of Dreams

Chapter 13: The Power of Dreams

The Crew emerged from the tunnels, their paws aching and their fur matted with dust, only to find chaos above ground. The scene was worse than they’d imagined.

The once-bustling area around Ratropolis was in shambles. Protesters had been forced back by water cannons, their makeshift signs scattered across the muddy ground. A hulking digger loomed over the entrance to the eastern tunnels, its engine rumbling ominously. Workers in hard hats barked orders, the clinking of machinery a grim symphony of destruction.

Scarlett’s tail flicked with fury as she surveyed the scene. “We were too late,” she muttered, her voice tight.

“They started without us,” Ivy said, her claws tightening around her book. Her voice wavered as she added, “And they’ve scared everyone away.”

Atlas groaned, his shoulders slumping. “We were down there too long. All that work and it’s all for nothing.”

“No,” Scarlett said sharply, her eyes blazing. “It’s not for nothing. We’ve got the Nexus’s power now. We can still fight this.”

“But how?” Amelie asked, her small voice filled with despair. “We don’t have lawyers or machines. The humans won’t listen to us.”

Scarlett paused, her tail swishing as she thought. Then she turned to Ivy. “The visions. What the Nexus showed us. That future Ratropolis. We need to focus on that.”

Ivy blinked, confused. “You mean… imagine it?”

“Exactly,” Scarlett said, her voice steady. “We saw what could be. If the Nexus can help us, maybe it can show them too. But we have to believe in it. All of us.”

The Crew exchanged uncertain glances, but Scarlett’s determination was contagious. Slowly, they closed their eyes and joined paws, forming a circle.

“Think of it,” Scarlett said, her voice soft but firm. “The tunnels restored. The bats flying free. The graffiti standing tall as a monument. A home where everyone belongs.”

Ivy focused on the intricate carvings and the glow of the Nexus. Amelie imagined the laughter of young mice and the vibrant energy of a united Ratropolis. Atlas thought of bustling workshops and tunnels filled with life, his bravado replaced by quiet hope.

The rumble of the diggers seemed to fade, replaced by a strange, almost electric hum.

Then, the sound of tires screeching broke through their concentration.

Scarlett’s eyes snapped open just as a sleek, black car rolled into the construction site. It gleamed under the cloudy sky, its tinted windows obscuring the driver. The vehicle stopped abruptly, and the door swung open.

A sharply dressed woman stepped out, her heels clicking on the concrete. She held a stack of documents in one hand and wore a no-nonsense expression. Behind her, several workers in suits and cameras followed, their presence silencing the chaos of the site.

“Stop everything!” she announced, her voice cutting through the noise.

The diggers rumbled to a halt. Workers exchanged confused glances, and the few remaining protesters began to creep closer, their curiosity piqued.

“Who are you?” demanded one of the foremen, his hard hat tilted precariously.

“I represent the legal team for the National Trust and the Society for Endangered Creatures,” the woman said, unfazed. “This land, including its tunnels and surrounding structures, has just been declared a protected national monument.”

“What?” Scarlett gasped, her paws clutching Ivy’s arm.

The woman turned, scanning the area with a cool gaze. “After a thorough investigation, it was discovered that the graffiti here is the work of a collective of historically significant artists. Their work cannot be removed or destroyed under any circumstances.”

“But it’s more than that,” she continued. “The area is also home to a critically endangered species of bats, as well as a unique subterranean ecosystem inhabited by rats and mice—both of which are now under official protection. Effective immediately, this site is permanently preserved.”

The Crew stared in stunned silence as the woman handed the foreman the documents.

“What about the developers?” he asked weakly.

“They’ve been compensated,” she replied curtly. “And this project is canceled. Instead, the site will receive government funding to create new bat caves, restore the burrows, and preserve the graffiti as part of a national heritage center.”

Scarlett’s jaw dropped. “This… this is impossible,” she whispered.

“No,” Ivy said, a slow smile spreading across her face. “It’s the Nexus.”

Amelie’s eyes filled with tears as she clung to Scarlett. “We did it. We really did it.”

Atlas leaned back, a wide grin breaking across his face. “Okay, I take it back. Fancy motorbikes are overrated.”

The workers began packing up their tools, the diggers rolling away as the protesters cheered. Rats and mice cautiously emerged from their hiding places, their faces lighting up as they realized the danger was over.

The woman turned to leave, but she paused, glancing down at the Crew. Her sharp features softened for a moment, as though she could see them—or sense them. Then she smiled faintly and stepped into her car.

The Crew stood in the square, watching as their home began to heal. The humans may not have seen them, but the rats, mice, and bats knew who had saved Ratropolis.

Scarlett turned to her friends, her chest swelling with pride. “We did it. Together.”

“And now,” Ivy said, clutching her book, “we rebuild.”

With renewed determination, the Crew set to work, knowing that the future of Ratropolis was brighter than ever.



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The Rat Gang Crew and the Overgrounders, Chapter 8: Atlas and the Rat Biker Crew

Chapter 8: Atlas and the Rat Biker Crew

The Rat Gang Crew sat in The Burrow, still abuzz with Amelie’s successful mission. The humans’ protest was growing stronger, but the construction company wasn’t backing down. And there was a big court case coming up to stop the protests and continue the devastating build.
Ivy stared at her rubbings of the ancient carvings, her brow furrowed.

“We need to buy more time,” she said. "But I am pretty sure I will work this out in a few days. I just need a bit more time to decode the ciphers."

Scarlett crossed her arms. She looked as if she was about to cry. “Time isn’t exactly on our side, Ivy. The humans could start digging again any day now."


Everyone gathered around Scarlett. She had worked so hard but things were getting on top of her now, being the oldest.

Amelie nodded. “We need another stall, just for a few days till the court case. A distraction. Something big enough to stall them.”

“I might know someone who can help,” he said, a sly grin spreading across his face.

All eyes turned to Atlas, who had been quiet up until now. He leaned back against the wall, his tail flicking lazily.

Scarlett’s ears perked up. “Who?”

Atlas shrugged nonchalantly. “The Rat Biker Crew.”

The room went silent. Ivy’s eyes widened. “The Rat Biker Crew? Those vandals?”

“They’re not vandals,” Atlas corrected, sitting up straight. “They’re artists. And they’re legends. But anyway, they know how to create waves and stay under the radar overground.

Scarlett snorted. “Yeah, and they’re also impossible to work with. They don’t follow anyone’s rules.”

“Exactly,” Atlas said, his grin widening. “That’s why they’re perfect.”

The Rat Biker Crew operated out of the old subway tunnels beneath the city. Their hideout was a neon-lit cavern filled with graffiti murals, the smell of oil and paint hanging thick in the air. Rats in leather jackets milled about, their tiny motorbikes parked in rows along the walls.

Atlas strode confidently into the hideout, the Rat Gang Crew trailing behind him. He was greeted with a mix of cheers and suspicious glances.

“Atlas, you sly rat!” boomed a burly rat named Diesel, the leader of the crew. His jacket was patched with a flaming skull insignia, and his ears were tattooed and pierced with tiny silver rings. “What brings you to our turf?”

Atlas grinned and clasped Diesel’s paw in a firm shake, a fist bump, and a heart thump.


"Oh goodness whispered Amelie, are we safe here?"
Scarlett took her hand reassuringly.


“Got a job for you, Diesel. Something big.”

Diesel raised an eyebrow. “Big, huh? We like big.”

Atlas gestured for the rest of the Crew to step forward. Ivy hid behind Scarlett, too scared to look any of the biker crew in the eyes.


“This is about Ratropolis. The humans are digging again. We need a distraction to keep them off our tails while we figure out how to stop them.”

Diesel stroked his whiskers thoughtfully. “A distraction, huh? What kind of distraction?”

Atlas leaned in, his eyes gleaming. “I was thinking... a mural. Something massive. Something they can’t ignore.”

Diesel’s grin widened. “You’re speaking my language, Atlas.”

The plan was set in motion that night. The Rat Biker Crew revved their tiny motorbikes, the roar echoing through the tunnels as they prepared for the mission. Atlas rode at the front, his leather jacket flapping behind him. He had been a part of this crew once, a mascot, back when he was younger and wilder. Tonight, he was back where he belonged.

The construction site loomed ahead, bathed in the harsh glow of floodlights. Security guards patrolled the area, but they were no match for the speed and cunning of the Rat Biker Crew. The rats zipped through the shadows, their bikes leaving faint trails of smoke and sparks.

Once inside the site, Diesel and the others pulled out cans of spray paint. They worked quickly and silently, transforming the drab walls of the machinery sheds into a vibrant, defiant mural. The centerpiece was a massive depiction of a rat with glowing red eyes, standing triumphantly atop a pile of construction equipment. Surrounding it were images of bats, birds, and other creatures, all united in a show of strength.

Atlas climbed to the top of a crane, holding a spray can in his paw. He added the finishing touch: the words “Ratropolis Lives” in bold, dripping letters.

As the first rays of dawn broke, the Rat Biker Crew finished their masterpiece and vanished into the shadows. The humans arriving at the site were greeted by the mural, their jaws dropping in shock.

Back in The Burrow, the Rat Gang Crew gathered around Atlas as he recounted the night’s events. Amelie clapped her paws in excitement. “That’s amazing, Atlas! They’ll be talking about that for weeks.”

Scarlett smirked. “I’ve got to admit, that’s impressive. And risky.”

Atlas shrugged, his usual bravado on full display. “That’s the Biker Crew for you. No guts, no glory.”

Ivy pointed to the radio. “Listen!”

A human news broadcast crackled to life. The reporter’s voice was filled with awe and indignation. “Overnight, a stunning piece of graffiti appeared at the construction site, sparking outrage and admiration in equal measure. The protestors are calling it a symbol of resistance, while the company calls it vandalism. Either way, the mural has gone viral, bringing even more attention to the fight to save this land. Several art galleries are fighting over ownership of the artworks suggesting this mural could be worth millions to the artist but they do not know who did it."

Atlas leaned back, a smug grin on his face. “Sounds like mission accomplished to me.”

Amelie patted his shoulder. “You were amazing, Atlas. And so was the Biker Crew.”

As the Crew celebrated, Ivy looked down at her rubbings. The carvings seemed to pulse faintly, as if responding to the energy of their victory.

“The carvings,” she murmured. “They’re changing.”

Amelie leaned over. “What do you mean?”

Ivy pointed to a new symbol that had appeared, faint but unmistakable. It depicted a small rat standing proudly before a towering figure. “I think… it’s trying to tell us something.”

Scarlett’s tail flicked nervously. “Whatever it is, we’d better figure it out fast. The humans won’t give up that easily.”

Atlas nodded, his usual swagger replaced by a glint of determination. “Then we’ll just have to stay one step ahead. Ratropolis is not dead yet."



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The Rat Gang Crew and the Overgrounders, Chapter 6: Wings in the Night.

The Rat Gang Crew and the Overgrounders, Chapter 6: Wings in the Night.


Tommy Smith sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the coded message in his hands. He had read it three times, each pass revealing a new layer of meaning. Scarlett’s words painted a picture: stars, diggers, night flyers. It wasn’t a message—it was a plan. And Tommy knew it was up to him to bring it to life.

His room was a typical boy’s haven: posters of animals, a clutter of books about nature, and jars filled with carefully labeled specimens of leaves, rocks, and feathers. Tommy reached for one of his jars, plucking out a single dark feather. “Bats,” he whispered to himself, grinning. “Of course.”

Downstairs, the faint hum of the television mixed with the sound of his dad’s snoring. Tommy tiptoed out the back door, his flashlight in hand. He had a destination: the old stone chapel near the edge of town. It was abandoned, but every spring and summer, the bats filled its rafters with the flurry of wings and quiet, high-pitched chatter.

As he walked through the cool night, his mind raced with ideas. Scarlett’s note had been careful, but the meaning was clear: bats swarming the construction site would draw attention—especially if they showed up in numbers.


When Tommy reached the chapel, he slipped inside through a broken window, landing lightly on the dusty floor. He shone his flashlight upwards, illuminating a sea of tiny, beady eyes staring back at him. The bats hung upside down, undisturbed by his presence.


“Hey there,” Tommy whispered. “I need your help.”


He reached into his backpack, pulling out a small device—a handheld ultrasonic bat caller he’d built for a school project. It could mimic the echolocation calls of different bat species. He adjusted the dial and pressed the button, sending out a series of high-frequency sounds.


The bats stirred, rustling like dry leaves in the wind. Tommy grinned. “That’s right. Follow me.”


Back in Ratropolis, The Burrow was a hive of activity. Ivy was poring over her rubbings, her brow furrowed in concentration. Amelie and Scarlett watched anxiously as Atlas tried to patch a crack in the ceiling caused by the earlier tremors.


“These carvings,” Ivy said finally, “they’re a mix of symbols and numbers. I think it’s a map, but it’s not just about where to go. It’s about when.”


“When?” Scarlett echoed, her ears twitching.


Ivy nodded. “The elders used to talk about the cycles of the moon. These symbols match up with those phases. If I’m right, there’s a specific time we’re supposed to follow this map.”


“And if you’re wrong?” Atlas asked, his tail flicking skeptically.

“We won’t get another chance,” Ivy said quietly. “The construction is speeding up. If we don’t act, Ratropolis won’t survive.”


Amelie stepped forward, her voice firm. “Then we trust the map. Whatever it takes, we follow it.”

Scarlett sighed. “Fine. But if this leads to nothing, I’m holding you responsible, Ivy.”


“I’ll take that risk,” Ivy said, her eyes blazing with determination.

At the construction site, the air was thick with the smell of diesel and the rumble of idling machinery. Tommy crouched behind a pile of wooden pallets, his bat caller in hand. He adjusted the frequency and pressed the button again.

Above him, the first bat swooped down, its wings cutting through the air like a shadow. Then another. And another. Within minutes, the night sky was alive with dozens of bats, their erratic flight patterns creating a mesmerizing dance.

Tommy couldn’t help but smile. Scarlett’s plan was working. The bats swirled above the construction vehicles, their presence eerie and unexpected. He just needed to make sure the right people noticed.

Grabbing his phone, Tommy snapped a few photos and started typing a message. **“Endangered bats swarming construction site. Need to act fast. Can’t let this happen.”** He sent it to every environmental group he could think of, adding the photos for proof.

The response was almost immediate. Messages flooded in, promising action. Tommy slipped away, his heart racing with excitement.

Deep below, the Rat Gang Crew felt the vibrations of the bats’ wings through the earth, a strange rhythm that seemed to resonate with the ancient carvings Ivy had uncovered.

“Do you feel that?” Amelie asked, her voice hushed.

“It’s… like a pulse,” Atlas said, pressing his paw against the wall.

Ivy looked up, her eyes wide. “The warnings in the walls. They’re responding. The bats must be triggering something.”

Scarlett’s whiskers twitched. “You’re saying the bats are part of the carvings?”

“I don’t know,” Ivy admitted. “But it’s all connected. I can feel it.”

As the Crew stood in awe, a faint glow began to emanate from the carvings, illuminating the chamber in a soft, golden light. The symbols pulsed in time with the vibrations, casting long, shifting shadows across the walls.

“What’s happening?” Atlas whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I think,” Ivy said, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and wonder, “we just activated something ancient.”

Above ground, the bats continued their mesmerizing display, drawing a small crowd of curious onlookers. Tommy watched from a distance, feeling a strange sense of triumph. He didn’t know what was happening underground, but he knew one thing for sure: the fight for Ratropolis had only just begun.


To be continued. To subscribe to our bedtime story channel pop over to https://www.iservalan.com/
See you there everyone.





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