Days passed.
Two days left until the academy exam.
Night settled over the slum. Pipes sighed in the distance. Lamps blinked low.
Ash stood in front of the cracked mirror, doing poses like a boy who had finally found a new reason to flex.
"This is it. My muscles are coming out," he muttered, grinning at his reflection.
He only had small muscles and a faint line of abs, but compared to last week, the change was there. A tiny difference, but real. Maybe siphon had something to do with it, some strange boost to his recovery. On Earth, months or years were needed to get this kind of change. Here, things moved faster.
He flexed, laughed at himself, and then covered the small gaps in his room with scraps of fabric. He stuck a half-empty can on a weak nail above the door, a poor man's alarm. When the steam cloud device roared at full power, the vibrations would knock the can down and make noise. That would be his wake-up trick, less brutal than the steam-cloud alarm.
"No one's gonna wake me up on that way," he told himself, satisfied.
He lay on the thin mattress, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.
A minute passed.
Squeak.
…
Squeak!!!
Ash shot upright.
He stared at the doorway. The rat was back.
"YOU!!" he shouted, pointing. "I'm gonna kill you!"
He lunged.
Crash.
The can fell. The fabrics he'd hung as soundproofing tore and collapsed in a soft mess... He looked at his masterpiece, then sat down, defeated.
The rat stood in front of him. In its tiny paws was a stick with a scrap of white fabric like a flag.
It waved the flag.
Ash blinked. The rat looked… earnest.
He wiped dust from his shirt and stared.
"Do you understand me?" he asked.
Squeak. (Nod.)
Ash's eyes widened. His jaw dropped like somebody pressed pause on his brain.
This was the first time he saw an animal that could communicate with him.
He swallowed and asked again, softer.
"So, why do you keep coming to me?"
Squeak! (Because it's fun, idiot, weak, crybaby, you don't understand me, hehehe.)
Ash frowned. He didn't understand all the rat-squeaks...
Then, suddenly, the rat bit Ash's wrist.
"Ouch!" Ash yelped, but didn't hit it. He stared at the small puncture.
Squeak. (Kid, you understand me now?)
Ash's eyes widened further. He nodded slowly and looked at his wrist. There was a tiny mark, but it felt warm, like a seal.
"What did you do to me?" he whispered.
Squeak. (A contract.)
"A contract?" Ash echoed, heart racing.
Squeak. (Yes. You and I are linked. No betrayal. You help me; I help you. Seal with bite. Old rat way.)
Ash thought for a long second. Contract? Strange ritual.
He looked at the rat, at the labors he had done all day, at the exam coming up. He felt tired, but his conscience told him to help this poor rat.
"Why do you need my help?" he asked.
Squeak. (My children are suffering. They're trapped. I need your strength, kid. Please.)
Ash blinked. "Children? Your children?"
Squeak. (Yes. Babies in cages. Lights and tubes. They scream at night. We can't break the metal. Big men in white coats. They take them away. I couldn't do anything. I find help. You're the one who can move them. You can hide them. Please.)
The words hit Ash like a cold splash. He remembered the secret lab he'd heard about in rumors, crazy experiments. His blood chilled.
"You mean to break into a lab? Rescue mice?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Squeak. (Not with brute force. With a plan. I watch. I know. Follow my plan. We must be quiet.)
Ash sat back, fingers curling into his bandaged wrist where the rat bit him.
The exam was in two days. The idea of sneaking into a lab right now sounded insane. But the little creature's eyes were serious.
"You promise?" Ash asked quietly.
Squeak. (I promise. Old rat spirit honor. You help; I help.)
He thought of the academy. He thought of the system on his phone. He thought of Laura.
Then he nodded.
"Okay," he said. "We do this.
The rat squeaked happily, tiny body vibrating like a metronome. It hopped and wagged the white flag and then darted toward a crack in the wall.
Ash followed.
They moved through back alleys, and under the pipes that carried the steam cloud. The city felt sleepy in the late hours, but everyone was moving . Ash kept low, heart thumping.
At the corner where metal met stone, the rat stopped.
Squeak. (I watched the lab. Workers change shifts at dawn. There is one supply route under the west pipe. Thick cables. Old door. Small crack beneath. No patrol at night.)
Ash listened, eyes narrowing.
"How do you know all this?" he whispered.
Squeak. (I live near it. We steal scraps. I heard their sounds. I remember the smell. I counted. Mice are good at watching.)
Ash grinned despite the tension. The rat's cunning made him feel a little less alone. It was funny. this tiny creature, more street-smart than many humans he knew.
They moved closer until the rat stopped in a shadow.
Squeak. (Tonight, we test. You try small first. Open a weak cage. Hide one. If it works, we plan bigger.)
Ash nodded. "One by one. No noise. No alarms. We get them out safe."
They waited until the city noise dwindled, pipes clanking, someone singing far away, a steam tram clattering. The rat led him along narrow maintenance passages that stank of oil. Finally, they came to an old service hatch no one used often.
Squeak. (Here.)
Ash pushed the hatch. It squealed a little. He put his ear close. Voices. A hum of machines. Not close to guards, but not empty either.
He felt the weight of what they were about to do.
He pried the hatch open slowly and slipped inside.
The rat scurried forward to a small pipe entrance. Ash followed, sliding into a maintenance tunnel until the space opened into a small storage room far from the main lab, just as the rat said.
"Okay," Ash whispered, palms sweaty. "We try one cage. We'll see how it goes."
The room had a faint light and stacked crates. At the far side was a small cage—tiny, metallic, a cruel kind for small animals. Ash hid behind some boxes and watched.
Squeak. (Now.)
The rat darted forward with incredible speed. It bit a lock cylinder, tiny jaws working, then squealed loudly. The sound was a diversion more than anything. A guard from the corridor' head turned. Ash held his breath. The guard muttered and walked away to check nothing.
The rat yanked the lock. The cage door popped open.
Inside were three small mice, eyes wide, bodies trembling. The rat grabbed the smallest by the nape with practiced care and nudged it toward Ash.
Ash gently cupped the mouse. It felt feverish and thin.
"Okay," Ash breathed. He pulled the phone from his pocket and whispered the command for illusion.
"Cloak."
Darkness like he felt before opened beneath his palm, swallowing the small mouse with illusion energy. The mouse was gone.
He exhaled so slowly.
The rat returned to the cage and freed the other two. One by one, Ash use illusion on them continuously.
They worked silently, efficiently. The rats kept lookouts, squeaking warnings. They moved like a practiced team.
When the last mouse vanished, a shadow moved near the doorway. A boot scraped.
Ash froze. His heart jumped into his throat.
But the boot passed. The guard walked by without noticing them.
They slipped back into the maintenance tunnel.
Squeak. (Good job, kid. Tomorrow, bigger. More cages. You must rest now.)
Ash nodded, adrenaline still high.
They returned to the slum before dawn.
He sat on the edge of his bed and looked at his wrist where the rat bit him. The tiny mark.
He whispered, "We did it."
Squeak. (Yes. Sleep. We need energy for tomorrow.)
Ash closed his eyes, muscles trembling.
Two days before the exam and he had a new responsibility. A contract. A small team with a clever rat. A secret that could get him killed if it leaked.
He smiled weakly.
"Okay," he said to the dark room. "Tomorrow, we do more. For them."
The rat held its breath with him.
And in the distance, pipes carried mist to the surface, unaware that a small rebellion had just begun deep below.
A spark that will start a prairie fire.