The day was late. The sun had already descended hours before, casting a cold blanket over the town nestled atop a mountain range. Harsh winds blew over the rooftops of homes, pubs, and shops. Far below the warm lights and the rowdy merry-making inside the wooden buildings, the singular port leading into town sat at the bottom of the cliffs. The rickety wooden structure sat amidst the dark, thrashing waters, swaying with each twist and turn of the current.

Across the horizon, there could be a shape slowly emerging from the waters. A ship was fast approaching. 

Back to the village atop the cliffs. There was a pub in the village. It was filled to the brim with happy, rowdy patrons drinking and revelling together in the warmth of the torchlight and their drinks. It sat right on the main street that ran through the town, and its doors were open so long as patrons walked in with full coffers. The ship that had come in from waters far away was just docking at the port as a glass, thrown from the top of the cliffs by a drunken bear, fell down with the force of a cannonball, simply punching a hole right through the moist wood. The tall figure that had stepped off the boat was one more step from being hit by the glass. 

The figure looked up, craning their neck to look up at the top of the cliff. They couldn’t see who threw that, but finding the culprit was not the top priority on their list. They took out a paper from their cloak, and unfurled it slowly in their paws. It had a drawing of a man that they had once known. Frozen in time, the figure sketched onto the paper brought back memories buried in the years past. Doubt swirled in the stranger’s mind. Would he still remember me? Would he even hear my request? 

There was no time to stand around and wonder, however. Time was of the essence, so the stranger stepped over the hole in the boards with deft feet and quickly began to stride up the stone steps towards the cliffside town.

The pub was nearing full capacity now. The singing was getting louder, the scuffles starting to inch into brawls, and drinks were running low (unsurprisingly.) The main room was stuffed with the big, furred bodies of the native bears, who still wore their large, heavy coats as they sang in quartets together. There was a pack of wolves that sat together at one end of a long table, quietly drinking and plotting together, while a group of cats at the other end lapped at their milk delicately from bowls, playing a card game against each other. The lights were old-fashioned, un-repurposed candles. Not a speck of metal or stolen tech was to be seen here.

Suddenly, the door to the pub slammed open, a swirl of snowflakes blowing in with the breeze. The whole pub went silent for a moment, as all eyes turned to the tall, cloaked figure standing in the doorway. The figure stepped inside, closing the door behind them. Their boots clomped on the wooden floor with each step towards the central table. Slowly, the conversations from before back back, and the pub mostly ignored the stranger seated right between the wolves and the cats. 

The two groups also mostly ignored the stranger. 

A waitress soon walked up to the stranger. A harried she-wolf wearing a long knee-length tunic. “Anything I can get you?” She asked. The stranger shook their head, and retrieved the rolled up paper form inside their cloak and presented it to the waitress. The drawing on the paper was of a coyote, dressed in a poncho. The name ‘Shale’ was written on the bottom of the paper. 

“Oh. Looking for someone then?” The waitress said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Sorry. Can’t say I’ve seen someone like that around. Mostly Gradus folks around here.”

The stranger sighed, waving her away. Another long month at sea to go looking for him again. 

“Hey.” One of the cats at the end of the table spoke up. “Can I see that?” The stranger looked up. The speaker was a dark- furred tabby clad in hunting gear. He seemed young, probably hadn’t seen much danger, given how fluffy he was in comparison to his friends. The stranger reluctantly handed him the paper.

“…Hey fellas, don’t this look like that guy who won’t talk to anyone?” The tabby said to his friends, showing them the paper. The other cats started to crowd around to get a look at the drawing. 

“Oh, yeah it does!”

“Really good drawing-”

“-He’s still here, isn’t he?”

This got the stranger’s attention, as their long ears poked up in surprise. The tabby handed them back the paper.

“Yeah, there’s a guy in the back, won’t talk to anyone. He looks a lot like that drawing.”

One of the tabby’s friends piped up. “Pssh! No one wants to talk to you, Herbie! You talk too much!”

The stranger quickly stood up and left the table before they could hear Herbie’s rebuttal. They walked around crowded tables and other busy servers to reach the back end of the pub. There were few chairs to sit in, and the lights were dim, heightening the shadows that followed the stranger as they strided forwards with purpose.  There were three figures in the lonesome chairs overlooking a large glass panel in front of them. The view outside gave them the whole of the ocean, just beyond the cliffs. The stranger could see their ship, thankfully still docked, at the bottom.

Out of the three figures, two were bears. The last one was a small coyote, roughly shoulder height to the stranger, with a cup of mead in one hand. He was slumped in his chair, possibly asleep. He wore a long winter coat that seemed to exaggerate his smallness to comical degrees, and the wide brimmed hat he wore covered his eyes. The stranger quietly pulled up a chair in front of him, before moving his hat up so they could look at his face clearly again. 

Shale Owens. He looked just the same when she last saw him, although with less gray around his fur. The stranger took off her cloak’s hood, exposing her bald skin to the colder air. She ran a large paw over the eyepatch that sat on her right eye, hesitating before she moved to wake him up.

Shale made a groaning noise, the cup of mead tipping dangerously out of his hand. The stranger quickly grabbed it from his hand, setting it down at her feet. The coyote grumbled under his breath and blearily opened his eyes, widening when he saw who it was sitting across from him.

Pierce. Still the same from all those years ago. Same old scar on her throat, same eyepatch, same bald, pink skin. She looked taller though, a little more toned than before. He frowned heavily. That cursed feline!

“Ach- Sweet mercy, you-” He started to rise from his seat, but the stranger was faster, pulling on his arm and roughly setting him back in his seat. It wasn’t hard for her, being larger and stronger than him by a mile. She held up a finger to his lips, her eyes wide with worry. He quickly shut up.

“What the hell are you doing here, Pierce?” He whispered to her, glancing to his left and right. The bears seated nearby were busy talking to each other, not concerned with the sphinx cat and the coyote conversing near them. “I thought we agreed never to see each other again?”

Pierce looked away guiltily, signing with her paws in the Universal Tongue. ‘I meant to. Something came up.’ Shale raised an eyebrow. 

“What kind of thing?” he asked, his ears twitching. There was that younger Shale still in him, Pierce could tell. Still in there, itching for an adventure. 

‘Rat.’ She signed to him. 

Shale sighed, slumping back in his seat. “Rats? They’ve all died out. Those still alive out there aren’t the same rats who nearly blew apart Gradus.” He looked around and found his mead cup again, raising it to his lips. “Why did you chase me down here to tell me about some bum rat?”

‘He came from a U-Boat.’ 

Shale paused mid-sip, his eyes narrowed in confusion. “…Impossible. No way. The U-Boats… they were all destroyed. I was there.” Even as the words left his mouth, he didn’t sound assured. 

‘Not all. Some are still out there. Found survivor. Left U-Boat. Tells of plans to bomb all three of the continents. Wants to help stop it.’

Shale scoffed, downing the rest of his mead in one gulp. “No way. You- You can’t be serious. It’s been nearly ten years since we’ve seen each other, and NOW, you come over here to Gradus to tell me Rats are coming back?” His tone was rough, angry. Pierce huffed, signing more impatiently. 

‘You have to help me. Can’t do it by myself.’

Shale shook his head. “You know better than me, that you hated relying on others.” He said, his voice darkening. 

Pierce looked away again, guilt prickling at her spine. ‘Please help me. What I say is true.’ She looked at him urgently. He had to agree. 

Shale glanced at her, amber eyes meeting gold. 

“…And why should I trust you after all this time?”

‘Because the kid needs someone better than me to look after him.’

Shale looked at her again, disbelief spreading out over his features. “It’s a kid? …Shoot.” Curse my weak heart. “Fine, I’ll help.” He said, standing up and stretching his back. “But after this is done, I’m gone. And don’t come back to find me again. Capiece?”

Pierce nodded her head, standing up with him. Part of her was excited, to again be on an adventure with the person she loved. Another, less sentimental part of her held her back. It was for the sake of Tarvus that they must work together. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Regardless, the two set off for her boat, both of them together, fighting back-to-back again. Just like old times.

“So this is the kid you were telling me about?” 

Pierce nodded her head. The two were standing outside one of the cabin doors in her ship. They were already well on their way to their destination. It wouldn’t be more than a few days travel now to where they needed to be. And their navigator was a rat. A member of the race that had nearly killed off an entire continent. Shale was more than a little wary of him. 

“…Why’s he look so bony? Don’t you feed him anything?” Shale asked Pierce, peering through the porthole to look at the rat. He was around his teens, thin as a rod and pale as the moon. His fur was an unnatural white color, and his eyes, ears, and extremities were all bright red, like he had just bleed from all his orifices at once. He was sitting down on a bed, hands clasped tightly as he stared off into space, his tail wrapped around his legs. He wore a simple grey jumpsuit, clearly made by industrial means, not like the rough, handmade clothing Pierce and Shale wore. 

‘I try. He doesn’t eat much.’ Pierce signed back to Shale. ‘Found him drifting in the sea. Was very badly injured.’ She looked at the rat, almost forlornly. ‘He’s named Karl.’

Shale glanced away from Karl to look at Pierce, a small smile forming on his face. “Ah, you don’t say? Doesn’t look like a Karl to me.” He and Pierce moved away from his room, and walked back above deck. Pierce’s ship was a sleek, wooden barque that could have held at least 20 more crew members before things started to get crowded. But it was just Shale, Pierce, and Karl here. A ghost ship running with a skeleton crew.

The two adults walked up to the bow of the ship, watching the waves lap at the sides of the ship. 

“So, how exactly did you come to know that the entire world is in danger?” Shale asked conversationally, letting his gaze flick from the school of fish following the ship, and Pierce’s face. Many of the other races found sphynx cats ugly, what with their bald, wrinkled heads, and tendency to get grease over clothing and furniture. Shale never saw any of that. Then he remembered that he was here on a job, not to be thinking about the past. 

Pierce seemed far more controlled with her emotions than he was. ‘He told me. His family has control of a U-Boat. A nuclear U-Boat. They plan to exact vengeance on the people who drove them from the mainland.’ 

“So… basically anyone who had gotten into a war with the tech-hoarders?” Shale said jokingly. The subject of wars was not taboo or unheard of around Tarvus. Tribes of Kroks fought each other for the hell of it all the time. Shale was a good friend with a Gator who had gone to fight in one of them because he was bored. But the rats waged war in such a manner that exiling them from the whole of all land masses was deemed the only necessary course of action. Rats, along with other races, hoarded technology from the fallen wreckage of a great ship dubbed “The God’s Seat,” and it is from this artificial continent that other races were able to propel themselves from burgeoning societies to great nations. But the rats were greedy, and wanted more, all of it, for themselves. 

Shale wasn’t born during that time. But his father was there, firsthand to see what kind of destruction was wrought upon the land after such a destructive war. 

Pierce nodded her head. ‘Yes. He wants to stop them.’ 

Shale looked back towards the deck entrance. “Does he say anything about why he wanted to betray his whole race? Besides the whole, ‘avoiding the end of the world’ thing?” 

Pierce nodded her head, tapping the back of her skull with one finger. ‘Was the runt of the family. Got beat a lot. Sent off to a lab. Sold for 100 Klinks.’ 

Shale whistled. 100 Klinks was a decent stack of gold and parts there. “Jeez. I would want to betray my race too if I got sold for that sum. He’s worth at least 200.”

Karl, once he opened up to Shale, and had introduced himself to him, was a surprisingly smart lad, given how… neurotic he was. The rat and the coyote were busy at the control panel of the ship, a fancy little upgrade Karl had cobbled together with fished parts from his life raft. 

“So, Karl. You… holding up okay?” Shale asked softly. He was told he was good with kids. He didn’t feel like it sometimes. 

Karl appeared to not hear him the first time, focused entirely on inputting coordinates into the janky computer mashed into the wall. 

“Huh? What- Oh. Yeah. I- I’m doing fine. Good to have someone on my side is all.” He spoke quickly, almost slurring words together in his haste. “I- I find it comforting to have someone as distinguished as a coyote warrior on the side of stopping. I- I have been told by Miss Pierce about your exploits when you were younger.” 

Shale half-listened, half-tuned out as Karl began to recite some of the few stories he had heard. Shale chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t believe everything that she says. I’m not exactly a spring chicken anymore, am I? Besides, they were different times back then. I was just chasing around bounties with her, not… trying to stop weapons of mass destruction from being launched.” Shale waved a hand around, laughing halfheartedly.

“Nonsense!” Karl rebuked. “You seem very capable anyway! More so than me at least. Couldn’t fight for the life of me.” He laughed at his own self-deprecating comment, before a little chime from the computer brought his attention back to the green screen. 

“Uh-oh. Storm on its way.” 

Shale immediately stood up, looking around the horizon. It was all clear skies and sunny rays from what he could see. “Are you sure your little computer isn’t wrong?”

Karl shook his head, looking and sounding grave as he spoke. “No. Computer picking up Rat weapon signature. Weather machine. Big guns!” He was starting to sound more panicked now, fingers flying at the keys, trying to urge the ship to change course. Shale quickly vaulted over the railing and landed hard on the deck. He rushed down to Pierce’s cabin, bursting in to see her delicately sipping a bottle of rum, her cherished musket rifle sitting by her side. She raised an eyebrow as Shale tried to speak.

“Get to the deck. Karl says we’ve got trouble coming up.”

When both of them had made it to the deck, the clear weather from before had taken a sudden turn for the worse. Dark clouds were gathering right above their ship, thunderous and rumbling. Karl was still busy trying to mash directions into the computer, but had given up, lying across the keyboard and groaning loudly. 

“No use. They have a hold on us now.” He said sadly, pushing himself away from the computer to scamper to her side. “Whirlpool formations have also begun.” 

Shale looked over the side of the ship, and indeed, there were several large whirlpools starting to froth and form around the vessel.

“Ah. They can just do that?” Shale said calmly, watching as the whirlpools started to grow in size and intensity. 

“Among other things.”

Pierce wasted no time in grabbing rope for lifelines, while Shale and Karl got their hands on their

tools. The possibility of being taken into the submarine was high, of course. Shale had a modest knife concealed in a coat sheath, and his own claws should the knife be taken. Pierce had her musket rifle and bayonet, and a pistol hooked onto her belt. Karl had no weapons, but a miniaturized computer that he could use for operating machinery inside the submarine if- no, when, they were taken. 

The whirlpools were massive now. Two had appeared at opposite ends, threatening to tear apart the ship with the force. The rain had quickly become a downpour, the sun from earlier smothered and drowned in the bullets of rain that stung the back of Shale’s neck.

He was hanging closely over the railing, looking down into the water. He could have sworn he just saw something moving underneath the hull…

“Please tell me your people don’t happen to have watercraft besides their U-Boat.” Shale asked Karl over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off the water. Karl was about to form a response when something burst from underneath the ship, forcing its way past metal and wood. It looked like a pin needle being driven through a button, all sharp angles and points that shattered the main mast, and their connection to their lifelines. Shale cursed as the two pieces of the ship began to split apart, dipping into the water where the dark shape under the waves seemed to grow in size. 

Kinda like a whale opening its mouth open. Shale thought to himself, just before he was sucked into the depths of the U-boat. His body hit the metal flooring hard, and everything went black.

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Ugghh… The hell happened?” Shale’s words came out all sticky and slurred, like his mouth was full of molasses. His head hurt like he had a bad hangover. Actually, his whole body seemed to hurt. 

Trying to move his limbs proved futile as well, seeing his wrists and legs bound together with a plastic wire. The room he was in was too dark to see his surroundings either, and he was stripped from all his clothing save for his undergarments.

Trying to pull the wad of memories from his head, he caught glimpses of dark, churning water in his mind’s eye. Karl’s panicked screams. Pierce trying to reach out, to grab onto him, onto anything to stay afloat while the ocean tried to drag them down into its depths. Why couldn’t he remember anything after that?

Well, at least I’m alive. He thought to himself. If he was alive, surely Karl and Pierce should be too. So he closed his eyes, just sitting in the darkness, listening. Better to let his captors come to him, rather than calling out for someone to hear.

This place was metal, metal all around. He could hear it creaking and groaning constantly while pipes hissed and rushed with water, sending it to places unknown. And he could hear voices sometimes too. Speaking in a strange tongue. They echoed off the walls and became distorted, deeper and more metallic. The smell of the metal was starting to get on his nerves when someone finally came to see him.

A light was flicked on inside the room, momentarily blinding Shale. He looked down at the floor, waiting for his eyes to catch up and adjust to the sudden flood of brightness.

Now with a light on, he could see that the room he was in was actually rather small. Just enough room for himself and another person to stand together and move around a few paces. It was incredibly bare. Shale’s guess was that this room was probably a storage compartment of some kind. His gaze flicked back up to the figure who just walked in. 

Unsurprisingly, it was a rat. 

Shale took a good long look at her, noticing her steady gaze right back at him. She walked in like she owned the place, calmly and assured of herself. She wore almost the same outfit Karl had on, save for a few small details added onto it, such as an actual collar around the neck and a golden circle patch sewn onto the shoulder. Her face was eerily similar to Karl’s as well, with the same sharp cheekbones, white fur, and red eyes, and close cropped hair. She seemed more put-together than him, of course. 

“Nice place you got here.” Shale said once she had taken place standing across from him, holding her hands behind her back. 

“Thank you. I’m sure it’s quite the step up from your wooden hovels back on land.” She said pretentiously, holding her chin up. Her voice was smooth, eloquent. It made it easier for him to dislike her. Shale kept up a tight smile as he responded.

“Oh, it is, seeing as I can have fresh, clean water instead of recycled piss for a shower.” He sat up straighter in his chair, slouching against the backrest. “Do  you have a name?”

“My name isn’t important.” She said curtly, whistling towards the doorway. Another rat, bigger and brawiner, stepped into the room. His hands were covered in giant steel gauntlets, with only two movable digits, like boxing gloves. His face was fuller, and he wore distinct scars across his face like medals. He strode across the room, unclipping Shale from the chair, but kept a tight grip on his wrists, the metal gauntlets cutting into his flesh. He hissed in discomfort. 

“But where we’re taking you is. Now, march!” She commanded. 

Shale was led forcibly out of the room, and down a long corridor overlooking the delicate machinery that powered the submarine. He craned his neck out as far as he could, trying to peer into the depths, but he only saw the small bodies of the workers below, scurrying between giant pistons and rumbling metal boxes. Some of them called out directions to each other, pointing out leaks and patches to be fixed. 

The interior of the submarine was cluttered with pipes and important looking mechanisms. No empty space was left unused, with each reclamation machine, water pipe, and light fixture fighting for an open area. It must feel comforting for the rats, having such a love for technology, but to Shale, it was starting to grow claustrophobic, and he started trying to make small talk to keep his mind off of it.

“Where exactly am I being taken to?”

She, to his surprise, responded rather amicably. “You’re being taken to a viewing port. I want you to witness the triumph of my people firsthand.”

The big rat gripping Shale’s wrists with a death grip chuckled menacingly. “We’re gonna blow up Thorn first, with all them kitty-cats.” This rat spoke with grace of a falling boulder, his deep bass more felt than heard. “Like that ugly one we took in when we got you, ky-yote.”

Ugly one? Pierce isn’t ugly. Shale thought to himself, hiding his anger and surprise under a stoic mask. “You found my friends then?” 

“Tch. If you could call them that. My brother is less than a man, and the feline might as well be a feral animal. But yes, we have them.” She said calmly. “Now hurry up! The firing sequence is sure to start soon. I don’t want to miss it.”

The bigger rat quickly shoved him forwards, stopping him from trying to crane his neck over the railings and look for Pierce and Karl. They could still be in their own cells, waiting for something to happen. 

The viewing room was rather spacious, with less dedication to the mess of piping, and more to comfort. There was a nice chair behind a desk, a tabletop lamp, and even a bookshelf containing some leather bound copies of literature from other lands.

 Shale, as much as he hated to admit it, was impressed. His knowledge of the world and other cultures was surface-level, and seeing as they had resources from long ago, even this snobbish rat was more knowledgeable than him. 

“Nice place you got here. Are these all your books?” 

The rat nodded her head, running a hand over the spines as she walked up to the desk, taking a seat in the swivel chair behind it. “Indeed, they are. Passed down from my father to me.” She returned her full attention to her desk, pressing a button to activate an intercom to the submarine. 

“Please send in the prisoners from block A. And prep the teams in proximity to the firing zone to evacuate. We launch in ten minutes.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

A few moments later, Pierce and Karl were brought into the same room, and tied to separate metal pipes in the room. Karl looked the most distraught, his eyes darting around everywhere, his hands scrabbling to try and undo the locks on his wrist bindings. Pierce merely glanced at the brawny rat who was busy tying Shale to a chair.

“Hey guys.” Shale said, looking over to his two friends. “Glad you could make it. The fireworks are gonna start soon.”

Karl didn’t respond to Shale. In fact, he didn’t seem to register that someone was speaking to him in the first place. He was speaking to himself, repeating the word “no” over and over to himself. The female rat at the desk looked over to see Karl whimpering to himself, and she sneered. “Ah, dearest brother. How nice of you to join us.”

The brawny rat finished tying Shale’s wrists, and then turned to look at Karl, chucking to himself. 

“Hey! The runt came back, did he? Nice to see ‘im again, heh-heh.” He stomped over to Karl, clenching his fists and drawing his fist back for a blow to the head. 

“No! Don’t do that, you fool! We still have some use for him, Egon! The launching will not work without him!” The rat at the desk shouted, stopping Egon from concussing Karl. He groaned, walking back to her side. 

“But Heidi-”

“No! I won’t hear it. We need him, much as I despise the thought of having his hands be a part of our new legacy.”

While Heidi and Egon were arguing, Shale looked around his immediate surroundings for something of use. Pierce was going the same thing, trying to break apart her bindings with sheer strength, her brow furrowed so deeply it might have been stuck like that forever. 

Shale looked around, but found that the floor was picked clean of anything useful. Damn it! He thought, looking back to Pierce. Maybe she’s got something. He whistled quietly at her, trying to draw her attention. She looked back at him, and shrugged. No dice on her attempt either. If only he had his tools with him…

 Karl had become quiet now, and Shale looked over at him to see how he was doing. 

In fact, Karl was doing rather well. He had managed to smuggle with him a thin rod in his shirt, and was hastily trying to lockpick his restraints. Heidi and Egon had just begun to settle down with their argument just as he was starting to pick at his cuffs. Shale acted quickly, calling out to Heidi.

“Hey! Why do you need Karl anyway?” He asked, making his voice louder than necessary. Karl hid the rod in his palm while Egon strode over to Shale, hauling him up to his feet. 

“Because the activation keys won’t work unless they are all turned simultaneously by us three siblings. A failsafe measure designed by our father, who perfected genetic coding for certain items.” Heidi explained, taking a small key from her pocket and twirling it in her fingers nimbly. Egon nodded his head, taking out his own key and dangling it in front of Shale’s face while laughing. 

“Go on, grab it then.” He taunted, yanking the key just out of his reach before lowering it again. “Come on… Come on…”

“Stop playing with the dog, and get- KARL?!” Heidi’s surprise came in the form of a shout, as her younger brother deftly unlocked the cuffs binding his wrists together, and darted over to work on Pierce’s bindings. Shale took advantage of the confusion to headbutt Egon right in his nose. Blood spurted from both nostrils, and he howled in pain. Blindly, he tried to go after Karl, but Shale tripped him up, kicking him repeatedly to try and stop him. Heidi had ducked behind the desk, disappearing from view. 

“Hurry up, Karl!” Shale shouted at him. 

“I am hurrying!” He shouted back, sighing once he heard the click of Pierce’s restraints unlocking, and falling off.  Once her cuffs were off, she was on her feet, dragging Egon from Shale for a proper brawl. Then, before she could even pull her fist back for a punch, a loud bang rang throughout the room, and she collapsed onto her side, her body writhing and shuddering with electric spasms. 

Karl flinched, and that split second of hesitation led to him also being shot in the back. He yowled in pain, arching his back to such an extreme degree Shale could hear his spine cracking and popping. 

“NO! DAMN YOU ALL!” Shale shouted at Heidi, gripping a boxy pistol in her hand. She was smiling devilishly as she brought the pistol to level with his chest. 

“No, I think it will be you who will be damned, coyote.” 

And then all was dark. 

I shouldn’t be here… This was a mistake… An elephantine lapse in my judgement! All sorts of thoughts like this were running through Karl’s head, bouncing in his skull and throbbing painfully. He tried to cry out, to lift his arms, but both his jaw and his arms were like lead, and he was unable to move. His arms were crudely bound to a table. An operating table, he realized. 

He thrashed around even more fervently than before. 

A few meters ahead of him, draped in the dim lighting of the operating room, were his two elder siblings. Heidi stood off to the side, a white apron covering her body down to her ankles. Egon was at her side, clenching and unclenching his metal hands as he looked upon his brother with hungry eyes. 

There was a table filled with sharp medical instruments, gleaming menacingly in the light. Heidi motioned wordlessly for a doctor to step out of the shadows, inspecting his tools with the delicacy of a renowned chef preparing his next course. He wore a long white smock, a face mask, and goggles to obscure his face from view. Karl could see the sweat starting to collect on his brow in the reflection. 

“We’re ready to begin, Miss Heidi.” The doctor said, gently airing out a syringe of anesthesia.

Heidi held up her hand, taking the syringe from the doctor. “Oh, that won’t be necessary, doctor. Proceed with utmost diligence.”  

The doctor nodded his head, reaching for his scalpel. Karl watched in limp horror as the masked doctor inched closer with his instrument, grabbing his wrist and pulling the arm out to the side of the table.

“As you no doubt know, dear brother, we need your genetic fingerprint to activate the other key, and launch our armaments.” Heidi explained while Karl watched in silent suffering, the removal of his arm. “The rest of your body… we could do without. Really, this was our last resort, dearest brother. But you left us no choice after trying to have poor, gentle Egon here killed by that feline brute.” He looked up at them with tears welling in his eyes, and then back at his arm, where he saw sinew and muscle spill out from the incision, heard the wet dripping of his blood pooling around his now detached limb. The doctor quickly replaced his scalpel with a bonesaw, sawing away at the humerus as fast as he could. Heidi and Egon watched with fascination, eyes locked on the dismembered limb. The doc placed the amputated arm in a bucket of ice, and then wrapped a roll of cloth around the exposed muscle and bone. It was a crude job, just enough to keep Karl alive.

For now. 

Heidi ‘tch’ed at her brother’s pitiful look, snapping her fingers at Egon. He diligently lumbered over to grab the bucket with its chilled contents inside. His metal fingers left dents in the metal.

“Procedure is done. Should we… euthanize him?” The doctor asked, motioning to a number of syringes on the table, filled with more deadly liquids. 

Egon seemed to light up at that idea, moving his grip on the bucket to his underarm, so he could display his fist right at Karl’s level. 

“Nah! Lemme jus’ smash ‘is ‘ead open! Faster anyway.”

“NO!” Heidi shouted, swatting her brother’s hand away. “…We’ll let him rot here. He always did hate this place. Put him in solitary confinement. One of our smallest cells, if you could. Now, hurry along with that arm, Egon. Let’s see the dawning of a new age, firsthand.”

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Meanwhile, Shale and Pierce were just coming to, far away on the other side of the sub. The coyote and sphynx awoke to harsh fluorescent lights, and the stifling heat being radiated all around them from the steel silo they were in. 

A sense of vertigo washed over Pierce first, and she looked down to see a near endless expanse, ending at the floor of the silo. Looking around, she could see the urgent deckhands and mechanics rushing around the missile, making last minute checks and packing up their tools. The distant rumble of the sub’s engines could be heard with the rapid clank-clank-clanking of boots on the metal flooring. 

Her ears twitched as she heard Shale start to wake up enough to speak to her. “Okay… would it be weird to say this isn’t my first time waking up to find myself tied to a rocket that’s about to launch?”

Pierce rolled her eyes, trying to look around for anything of use. Damn rats… if they weren’t so cowardly, and fought properly… A sudden pinch caught her forearms, and she stopped her angry lamentations to see the rope that bound Shale and her to the rocket was moving back and forth.

Shale, opposite her, was trying earnestly to wiggle out of the rope, shimmying his body from left to right to try and slip out from under the rope.

…He must have fallen on his head. Idiot. She rapped her knuckles as hard as she could on the side of the missile, tap-tapping in a broken rhythm. What are you doing, you fool?! 

Shale stopped moving, for the time being. “…What? I’ve got a plan, Pierce.” He said reassuringly. 

Another series of taps, some long, some short. Really? Then tell me, what’s the plan?

“My plan isn’t stupid! You can’t see it, obviously, but there’s a platform still connected to the missile. I can drop down to it and then look for Karl before they launch.” 

Oh, smart enough then. What about me? If you drop down, I’ll drop too. And I don’t have a platform on my end. 

“…Well, you’ve got claws right?”

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Karl was just beginning to regain some movement in his limbs when he was dropped unceremoniously into his new cell. Possibly for the rest of his rapidly shrinking lifespan. His new cell was cold. Cold and hard. And like everything else on this ship, it was fashioned from steel. The cot, the combination sink/toilet, and the bars over the porthole were all made of steel. 

Slowly, he probed how far his limbs could be manipulated. Flexing his fingers first, stretching them out, and clenching them into a fist. Each digit tingled uncomfortably as the anesthetic wore off. Moving his arm took a little longer, but he was able to haul himself over to the cot, pulling his torso up to rest on it like a seal sunbathing. His legs were still unresponsive, for the moment. 

For the moment, he pulled himself up to rest on the cot, and think things through while his legs regained some mobility.

He was stuck in a cell, without tools or a means of communication. Nothing in the cell could be used to aid his escape, and the world outside was most likely going to end in a fiery explosion if Shale and Pierce were unable to do anything outside. In other words, the world outside was quite doomed. 

Two guards were stationed outside his cell door. They were dressed in simple long sleeved shirts and pants, covered by light plate armor on their chest and limbs. The guards were wholly unnecessary in Karl’s opinion, seeing as he was already down one limb, and the cell lacked anything remotely useful to him for a means of escape. 

Outside his cell, there was a sudden noise. Loud enough to be heard through the thick door, and to startle his two guards. They ran off to the cell where the noise was coming from, while Karl ran to his window to try and crane his neck to see what was happening. 

One of the inmates in the cells was attempting to pick the lock on their door. Karl could see a tail poking out of the window bars, coiled tightly around a small metal stick, which was being jammed into the lock. The guards ran for the door, but they were far too slow. The lock had just been unlatched with a loud clank, and the inmate inside burst from their cell, fangs bared. 

The two guards drew stun batons from their sides, just as the inmate began to attack them viciously, trashing their tail around like a whip and hissing violently, a fierce look in their eyes.

Karl’s eyebrows shot up, surprised. How in the world had they contained a cobra on board? 

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“Okay… just… a little more… get ready…” Shale shouted over to Pierce, straining to squeeze his chest under the tight cords of rope. Pierce nodded her head, letting her claws unsheathe. He looked down one last time, squashing any last feelings of uneasiness. 

Shale shifted one arm, then another… and he was out! His body fell from the ropes fast, even as he tried to slow his fall by pressing his feet to the side of the rocket as he slid down its side towards the platform below. A loud, painful screeching noise from the other side of the rocket signalled Pierce’s own descent, her claws digging into the metal and slowing her down a great deal better than Shale’s attempts. 

Sparks flew from her claws as she descended, her eyes scanning for anything she could leap towards and grab. As she scanned the floors falling past her, she saw some of the technicians stopping in their tracks, staring at her for a few moments before breaking into a panic, running around and shouting for guards. Pierce narrowed her eyes. 

Shale landed on the platform with a hard thump, his knees nearly giving out from the impact. He hissed in pain, clutching at the handrail to pull himself up. Across from him, he could see a few rat guards jogging through the narrow catwalks towards him, electric prods already bared and thrumming with power.

“Wonderful.” Shale muttered under his breath, his tail swishing behind him and his hackles rising up as he prepared himself for a brawl.

They came down the platform all at once, trying to simply out-muscle him off the edge. Bare fists against their armor wouldn’t do so much as a scratch to them, but he didn’t need to throw any punches. As the first guard came into reach, thrusting his baton at Shale like a spear, he sidestepped the attack, grabbing the weapon and planting his foot right into the guard’s chest, kicking him hard while also yanking the prod out of his hands. His fellows all scrambled backwards, trying to prop their friend up and pass him a new prod. Shale twirled his in his hands, admiring how it hummed so sweetly to him when he held it. 

When another attack came for him, he ducked down, jamming the end of the prod between the plates covering the guard’s chest. He cried out in pain, his body writhing for a moment before collapsing onto the floor. The next guard in line stepped over his friend’s body, wildly swinging his prod like a bludgeon, forcing Shale to backstep and parry. He could see three more men behind this one, and many more surging through the catwalks towards him.

Damnit! He thought, trying to sneak in a blow here or there between armor plates. “Pierce! I’m a little busy here! Need some help, if you could!”

Pierce, on the other hand, was dealing with her own set of problems, She had managed to stop her descent down the missile, and was hanging onto the sides with her claws dug as far as they could be into the metal. But now, she was stuck here. No other foothold could be seen along the silo walls, everything was too smooth for her to grab onto. If only she had some rope…

Wait… rope. That gave her an idea. She looked behind her, running a hand around the cool metal surface of the missile. Surely there should be a panel of some sort- aha, yes. With a touch as gentle as a sledgehammer, she plunged a hand right into the seam parting the panel, tearing it open with overwhelming brute strength. The panel concealed a large mass of wiring, a mess of reds, blues, and blacks. She yanked out a thick armful of the wires, pulling out enough to reach the walls of the silo, tying a knot at the end of the improvised rope.  

One of the last few technicians running across the catwalks slowed down when he saw a figure on the rocket’s side. His eyes widened in surprise once he saw who it was. Frozen with shock, he watched as a makeshift rope and hook came sailing towards him, landing on the catwalk with a thump. It latched into the grating floor, and with a few testing tugs from the feline, it was ready for use. 

Pierce effortlessly clambered across the silo’s chasm, reaching the catwalk without so much as a bead of sweat on her forehead. Once she turned around to scan for Shale, it had just occurred to her that she was on the wrong floor.

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The door to his cell opened slowly, and Karl stepped back instinctively, eyeing the inmate warily. 

The cobra that appeared in front of the doorway was tall and lithe, having to coil its serpentine tail just to be under the frame. Their scales were a sandy beige color, speckled with black spots here and there. A large hood ran from the back of their head to their neck, flaring out like an umbrella. It wore just an extra long shirt for clothing, seeing as they had no legs, but a long tail connected to the base of their hips. Two black eyes gazed upon him with equal wariness, trying to discern whether killing would be useful or not.

The cobra held up the small metal stick that was used to pick the lock, offering it to Karl.

“…You dropped this.” They said, their voice rough and their words fast.

Karl carefully took the stick from the cobra with two fingers, tucking it into a pocket. “No problem, uh.. who are you? Why are you helping me?”

The cobra looked him up and down, and shrugged. “I don’t remember my name. And I’m helping you since you might know how I can get off this ship. You do want to get off this ship, right? Seeing as you were in prison and all? I do. They’re gonna be launching missiles soon.”

“I know that!” Karl said, pushing his way past the cobra. “I have to find my friends! They can help stop it!” He ran over to one of the dead guard’s bodies, taking the electric prod and keys from his belt before continuing to run, outside the prison blocks with the cobra in tow. 

“Hey! Don’t leave me here!” They called out behind him. 

The two ran and slithered, respectively, down the narrow hallways of the submarine. Karl could hear the worried shouts of rats many corridors away, trying to clear the areas close to the silos. Guided only by muscle memory, he took a sharp turn left, towards the one place everyone else was trying to get away from. 

“…So, why were you in prison, rat?” The cobra asked innocently, looking at him for a moment curiously. 

“I had a… disagreement with my sister. And my name is Karl. Why were you in prison, cobra?”

“Wrong place at the wrong time. And you can just call me… Rook.”

Karl nodded slightly. “Rook… good name. By the way, do you want to help me stop the world from being destroyed?”

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Shale was gasping for breath now. He had fought through nearly a dozen or so of these guards, and their numbers just didn’t seem to stop. Every bit of space he managed to make forwards wasn’t nearly enough to call it ‘progress.’ 

“Come on then… that all you fools got?” He taunted the next sucker in line, opening his arms wide in a carefree gesture, smiling as if he had just woken up from a pleasant nap. He quickly glanced up at the catwalks above, looking for a familiar feline somewhere above. 

Come on… where are you, Pierce? 

A resounding cry of fear from somewhere further behind the mob of guards drew all their attention away from the battle. A cobra had somehow snuck into the silo area, their mere presence sending waves of guards backtracking from them. And, to Shale’s surprise, Karl was there too, clasping an electric prod in his hand, and remaining behind the cobra for cover. 

And to add to the chaos, Pierce came flying in from the second floor, landing right on top of an unlucky guard, flattening him. Pressing the advantage, Shale pushed through the guard in front of him, tackling him to the floor and driving the prod right into his neck. Pierce had grabbed one of the guards by the feet, and was swinging them around like a giant club, smacking the rat into their fellows. The cobra was sinking their fangs into the necks of any rat close by, while Karl stood by the edge of combat until all the rest was finished.

“Phew… thanks for the save there. Finally.” Shale said with a dry chuckle. “Karl, who’s your friend here- oh, Great Spirit, what did they do to your arm?” His smile melted once he laid eyes on Karl’s missing appendage. 

“This is Rook. I met her in prison. And Heidi took my arm.” Karl said quickly, his eyes darting around the mass of unconscious bodies on the catwalk floor. “… Have you and Pierce disabled the rocket?”

“Was a little busy.” Shale replied, kicking one of the bodies. “Pierce was too. Please, tell me that we can stop the launching sequence?”

Karl shook his head. “Impossible. Once it starts, it cannot be stopped. Only other way I can think of is… is to disable the actual rockets. But I doubt we can do such a thing with what we have now!”

Pierce cut into the conversation, pointing a finger at an exposed panel on the side of the rocket. 

“…Is that the panel for the warhead navigation?” Karl said in disbelief, staring at it open-mouthed. “I- I could probably tear up enough of the systems from there to render a launch impossible… or worm my way into a fuel line and screw it up…” He tapped his chin excitedly, nodding his head. “Yes, yes… that could work.”

Rook raised her hand suddenly, looking at each of the three animals slowly. 

“Sorry to ask this right now, but who are you two, and what’s going on again?”

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“Heidi, are you sure we should flee now? What about the-”

“The plan has failed, Egon. If we stay here, we die for nothing. If we leave now, we can still find other ways to achieve our goals. Now, are you coming into the lifeboat, or not?”

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Pierce held the thick cords of wiring in her hands, steadying herself against the railing as Karl went hand over hand down the rope, heading for the panel. Shale and Rook stand guard beside her, looking out for any last straggling guards bent on stopping Karl. 

A worryingly large rumble from the warhead shook the rope, and Karl screamed, hurrying even more to shimmy down the rope.

“Keep it calm, Karl!” Shale called out to him. “Can’t have you fall to your death now! I’m too fat to climb down that rope!” 

“V-v-very funny…” Karl muttered to himself, using his toes to catch the open lip of the paneling and pull the rest of his body into the dark, cramped space. The space smelt heavily of rocket fuel and dust, the tight walls seeming to close in on him even more. Forcing his way through the compressed wall of wires, he shimmied through the tight space with his back against the wall, and his stomach brushing against the wires. 

Outside, Shale, Rook, and Pierce were now completely occupied with an elevator filled to the brim with guards. Shale and Pierce trying to barricade the doorway, while Rook uses a prod to force them back into the small space. 

“I sure hope Karl can stop that rocket fast enough.” Rook commented between swings of the prod. 

“I sure hope we can fight off this mob long enough for him to stop it.” Shale replied, grunting in exertion as he started piling up the unconscious bodies in front of the elevator doors.

The fuel line was just in sight now. Karl could see it, wrapped in a bright yellow warning sticker. Shame that whoever built this rocket put it in a very inconvenient spot to try and hit, especially since Karl could now only move his arm, given how tight his surroundings had gotten. 

He reached for the line, his fingers brushing against the metal. He groaned, leaning in closer as much as he could. His fingers held on a little longer, and then- yes! He latched onto the line and pulled with all his might. It creaked, but held fast. He pulled harder, trying to shake the line loose. 

Back with the other three, the elevator situation was just cleared up, Pierce continuing to stack bodies in a wall while Shale and Rook ran back to the wire rope. The two watched expectantly at the dark hole in the paneling, waiting for Karl to exit triumphantly. 

“…Come on… how long does it take to break a pipe?” Shale muttered to himself.

“I mean… It’s a rocket. I think it’s meant to be resistant to breakage.” Rook chimed in.

“Not helping.”

Another moment of silence. Another ominous rumbling noise, the rocket shaking dangerously in place. The silo doors opened up above, exposing bright sunlight to the dark, metallic environment. 

Shale glanced up, and then back at the paneling. Come on… come on…

Then, a little movement. Or was it just his mind? No, no it was movement! Karl’s scrawny body squeezed itself from the open panel, his face slick with sweat, but judging by his smile, he was successful. 

The rocket had been stopped. 

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After that, the group of four managed to board one of the last remaining lifeboats, and return to the surface of the water, but not before sending the U-Boat to the depths of the ocean floor first. 

They all returned to the mainland, and despite Shale’s promise before, he stuck around with Pierce for a few more adventures after that. 

Of course, all of those ones were less harrowing than this one.