The Cat Who Saw The World End

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.

“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.