Onwards.

“Let’s keep going. I don’t think she’d head farther down than this, it’s way too dangerous on lower levels. There could be anything down there; Spider Matriarchs, Tunnel Oozes, Mimics, maybe even a Rat Emperor. Ratty’s just too sensible to risk it.” You weren’t looking forward to the idea of getting desiccated, or melted, or eaten, or… emperored. Come to think of it, you didn’t quite know what that last one would do to you, but Scars had it on excellent authority from a cousin of a drinking buddy of his that they were very much nasty business, and so you’re keen to avoid them if you can.

Jitter nods shakily, and the two of you walk around the cistern to head down the path marked by the rat skeleton. The skittering noises you heard earlier are louder, and the path quickly becomes marked by bones and other detritus; this must be a big spawning area for rats. You’re grateful for your feline eyes yet again; entering this area with a torch would be an absolute **** trap.

The two of you proceed carefully, checking the rooms you pass for any signs of Ratty… or anything else, for that matter. It’s as if the tunnels are taunting you, dangling signs of life and existence around you, yet steadfastly refusing to actually show anything to you. As you walk, to fill the time you keep running through how you’re going to talk Ratty down and into joining you. Most of them end in your mind with her yelling at you, and a couple end with her stabbing you, but soon enough you’ve got a plan you think might work. You’d have to convince her on a few things, but hopefully there’d be a chance to demonstrate your abilities as a leader and tactical thinker and that would help with everything. Or maybe she'd stab you.

You pass several closed doors, pushing on them but finding no give, and are cursing under your breath in frustration after the last one. After a long stretch of hallway with nothing but empty rooms and collapsed passageways, you’ve become actively irritated at the fruitless search. Taking your anger out on the environment you shove at the next closed door you come across, expecting it to be locked or blocked like the others… and to your horror, it swings wide open and slams unbearably loudly against the stone wall.

You and Jitter both freeze, and look at each other. “Y-you’re a f-f-f-ucking idiot, Mael.” Jitter curses at you, and you have nothing but the fullest agreement as your ears begin to pick up sounds of skittering and squeaking. The sounds of angry rats grow louder and closer, and you and Jitter are both running back the way you came in full flight. Seconds later, a veritable flood of rats of all sizes comes roaring into the corridor. They race towards the sound, and soon the front ones have caught sight of you; a wave of squeaks spreads through the horde, and you’d swear it’s almost as if they’re communicating your presence to the others. Their speed increases, and they draw closer and closer to you and Jitter as you run your hearts out for the second time in two days.

Just as it feels like you’re about to be caught by the nipping teeth of the rats, one of the doors you pressed on swings open and you are both yanked inside. You’re thrown to the cold stone ground, and as you pick yourself up you recognize Ratty slamming the door closed again on the head of a particularly fast, yet particularly unlucky Small Rat. It expires with a ding, and the door closes fully; Ratty quickly braces against it, holding it shut against the pressure of the rats.

“Don’t just fuckin’ sit there! Help me, or we’re all dead!” she yells. You and Jitter scramble to your feet and quickly help her hold the door from the rats, although you can feel the pressure build on the other side. “What did you two do? You assholes! We’re all going to die!”

Jitter begins to protest the use of “you two”, but you cut him off. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I’m really really sorry that this is happening, but don’t blame Joska for it, because I convinced him to come.”

“Well he should have had the sense to ignore you! Fuck you! Joska, how did he…” She stops abruptly, and you can tell she’s suddenly wrestling with the same realization that both you and Jitter had earlier. “Joska, he… Mael’s gotten us into all this. Why would you follow him? Why did you two come here? You don’t… you don’t even know my name… I didn’t know yours, either. I don’t know mine…” To the absolute surprise of both of you, Ratty begins to cry—stifled, but you can see the tears welling in her eyes.

Okay, sudden emotional breakdown was not on your list of expected consequences. You… honestly, you don’t know how to proceed here. You didn’t want to make her cry, for that matter you weren’t even 100% sure she _could _cry; she always seemed so tough and invulnerable. You start to say something, although you’re not sure what, but Jitter blessedly interrupts your words. “I-it’s okay, don’t worry. Don’t feel bad. N-none of us knew our n-names… it just kinda… happened, I g-guess. We can find yours too. Milky knows how. It’s p-part of the joining process.”

She glares at you when Jitter says this, anger in her eyes as well as tears. “I’m not becoming a fucking servant just for a… for a name. I won’t. I can name myself. I won’t be used by anyone.”

“H-he’s not gonna use you, that's just n-not... him. This is Milky we’re t-talking about. H-he didn’t know what t-to do with a p-prostitute, he has n-n-no idea about you. And he… he wouldn’t use us. You know he w-wouldn’t. He’s not mean like S-Scars, or nasty like Pitch. And if he i-is, we’ll l-leave—there’s an option for th-that.”

You are sorely tempted to protest part of this, as you_ do _know what to do with a prostitute and they damn well know it, but… Jitter is defending you far more than you had expected. More than you deserved from him, you felt. It would be both incredibly stupid and incredibly ungrateful of you to correct him when he's speaking better for you with a stutter than you could ever hope to try.

Ratty starts to respond to him, but suddenly there’s a massive push against the door; you’re all almost sent flying, but barely manage to keep it shut. “Milky, you better have a damn good plan for us to get out of this!” she yells; it’s becoming hard to hear each other over the cacophonous squeaking on the other side of the door. Your mind is racing; it’s plain to see that there’s no exit from this room worth speaking of, and there’s no way in hell that you can fight your way out, but… maybe you don’t have to fight to escape, you realize. Maybe you just have to die. Quickly, you piece together a vague plan of action and a decent-ish explanation.
__

“I’ve got a plan! It’s… look, okay, I know this seems really really_ really _fucking bad right now, but I need you to join me as a minion. If you join my faction, it’ll set your respawn point to the lair, which is miles away from here. Then we open the door and let the rats kill us, so we respawn at the lair where we’ll be safe. You can leave right away, I won’t make you stay in the faction, but if you don’t then you’re… you’re gonna go back to the sewers, and that madwoman will be there. I can't... I can't let that happen to you.”

She seems to think over your words for a moment. A heavy push impacts the door, and it’s all the three of you can do to keep it from flinging open. Another impact, yet stronger; a second rat manages to poke its head through the door, and meets a similarly lethal end to the first. Finally, she slumps. “Send the fucking invite.”

Immediately you have an invitation sent to her. At that same moment, the final push happens, and the door is knocked off its ancient hinges. A flood of rats enters the room, and you are in immediate and unbearable pain. It’s mere seconds before blackness takes you, and your last thought is the **** hope that Ratty had been able to accept before she died.

You have died.

Respawning in 01:00:00... Respawning in 00:59:59... Respawning in 00:59:58...