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Kugrash had been in the old tunnels under the city, connected to the subway tunnels.
He was often in the tunnels. He was a rat, after all. Or- he was now a rat, at least. A rat man. And as a rat man, he had gotten very good at navigating the tunnels. They weren’t his home as much as the subway tunnels themselves were- a bit more drafty, a bit harder to navigate, but they were a part of the city, a part of the underground, a part of him much the same. And so it was easy to navigate them. He took the turns with no hesitation, not caring about the darkness, or the cracks in the floor, or the mess of cobwebs and dust. Kugrash simply traveled easily, walking through the tunnels-
And then he hit a wrong turn.
Kugrash never hit a wrong turn. He knew the old tunnels as well as he knew the back of his hand. His rat hand, not his- his memories of the past weren’t so clear, anymore. But he knew the tunnels like the back of his paw. He knew them well. And even if he had, at one point, gotten lost in them, when he had first been turned into the rat man he was now. That time was long behind him. So- why had he just hit a deadend, and had to turn back? Kugrash didn’t know. And he was supposed to know the tunnels. And more than the tunnels, Kugrash knew rats. His rats. He knew them all, and spoke to them all, in his own way. And yet, the rats that he met, as he turned back and tried to find his way in the tunnels… they were different. They didn’t talk to Kugrash, they didn’t even acknowledge Kugrash. They just wandered. Aimless. Lost. No live in their eyes.
These weren’t his tunnels, and these weren’t his rats.
Something was wrong, Kugrash decided. Yes. It had to be. He wasn’t sure what, however. Had he been struck by magic, and just not noticed? Kugrash had gotten good at noticing when he was hit by magic due to- well, obvious reasons. Reasons Kugrash didn’t always want to face. But- he hadn’t noticed. Still, it wasn’t out of the question, not if the magic had been powerful. Or, maybe it was some sort of disease, affecting the rats. Kugrash wasn’t sure. But there was something wrong, that much he knew. Kugrash just knew. He had gotten well acquainted with the rats, and the tunnels, over all these years- and Kugrash was certain that something was wrong.
And even if he wasn’t certain, the strangers walking towards him certainly helped him decide that something was wrong.
“What the hell is that?” One, with strange, bone… growths…? coming out of her skin asked. That was a big tell, right there. Even knowing about magic, Kugrash had never seen someone with armour made of their own bones before. “Is that a- a fucking rat?”
“It’s a bit big for a rat,” the other said. She looked mostly normal, no bones, just dark skin and a soft smile. “Is it… like us?”
“It’s a fucking rat,” the first one said.
Kugrash coughed. “‘It’s’ right here,” he said. “And can here you.”
“The rat can talk,” the first one said, again. “It can talk!”
“I told you he was like us,” the second one said. “You shouldn’t be so surprised.”
“I’m surprised,” Kugrash said. “Who are you?”
“We’re the Morlocks,” the second one said. “You came here for sanctuary, right?”
“If you even get sanctuary,” the boney one said. “We have to see what Callisto says, first.”
Kugrash had never heard of this Callisto person in his life. He had no idea what was happen.
“Sanctuary?” Kugrash asked.
“Well, yeah,” the first one said. “You know, from humans.”
“From mutant prosecution,” the second one corrected. “Not from humans.”
The first one stared at the second, flatly. “It’s humans who do the persecuting, Cecelia.”
“Only humans?” Cecelia, apparently, asked. “Mutants have never been persecuted by other mutants, Sarah?”
“This is a very lovely- and confusing- conversation,” Kugrash said, cutting off whatever that was. “Why are you here?”
“Patrolling our territory,” Sarah said. “What are you doing here, if you aren’t looking for sanctuary?”
“Your territory?” Kugrash asked. “The tunnels are my territory.”
“Yours?” Cecelia asked. “We’ve never seen you before, and-“
“And the Morlocks have ruled these tunnels for sixty years,” Sarah said, cutting her off. “They aren’t yours.”
If Kugrash really, really hadn’t been certain that something was wrong yet, then he certainly was now. There had been a time that these tunnels weren’t Kugrash’s, of course. But now was not that time. They had been his- his to protect, his to cherish, not his to own- for decades. Decades. No human had ever dared to lay claim to them, and they sure as hell weren’t going to start now. So why did this woman sound so sure of herself, that these weren’t Kugrash’s tunnels? And why did they act like never seeing him before was surprising. He had never seen them before, because they were the ones new to the tunnels. Not the other way around. So why the hell did they think that it was? That was just wrong. That was just plain wrong.
“These tunnels are mine,” Kugrash hissed, his rat side coming out in full force. “I have protected these tunnels for years. And I have never, not once, seen any of you. Not a single human living-“
“We’re not humans,” Sarah spat. “We’re mutants.”
“I’ve never heard of mutants, either,” Kugrash said. “Faeries, pixies, golems, sure- But not mutants.”
“What, do you live under a rock or something?” Sarah asked.
“No,” Kugrash said. “I live in the tunnels. My tunnels. Which I have never seen you in, once.”
“You haven’t seen me?” Sarah asked. “We’re here, every day. Patrolling the tunnels.”
“And we’ve never seen you,” Cecelia added. “Sorry, but- it’s true.”
“You’re crazy,” Kugrash said. “These are my tunnels, end of story.”
Sarah grabbed one of the spiky bones coming out of her skin and ripped it out, throwing it at Kugrash. It narrowly missed, hitting the tunnel behind him and causing a massive crack.
“The Morlocks own these tunnels, rat,” Sarah said, harshly.
“We don’t own tunnels,” Cecelia said, behind her. “But we do live here.”
“And we have, for longer than you have,” Sarah added. “So scram.”
Kugrash could have fought them. He had power, and experience- but he also had common sense. Something was wrong, and these weren’t his tunnels, and that woman could grow bones out of her skin and throw them.
“Yep,” Kugrash said, doing a fake salute, as he turned away from them. “Scramming. Of course.”
“Scaredy rat!” Sarah yelled.
“That’s insensitive!” Kugrash yelled back, as he ran away from them.
“You just told him to run,” Cecelia said. “You can’t then insult him for running!”
“I wanted a fight,” Sarah moaned. “And since I can’t just go and fight a random human-“
“You really can’t,” Cecelia said. Their voices were hushed and distant, now, as Kigrash continued to run. “That’s highly illegal. And unethical.”
“And boring,” Sarah said. “And now I can’t even fight this rat!”
“You’re the one who missed with your freaky bone spear,” Cecelia said.
“I didn’t miss,” Sarah moaned. “I was- it was a warning shot!”
“Was it?” Cecelia asked.
Kugrash was too far away to hear her reply. And thankful for it, too. Even if he wanted to be down in the tunnels, even if that was where he wanted to, even if they were his tunnels. He needed to figure out what was wrong with them. That meant being alive to figure it out, and not a rat on a bone skewer, roasting over a trash can fire. And, Kugrash had to admit, he probably would need help, as well. He wasn’t the most knowledgeable about magic, or rat diseases, even if he had plenty of experience with magic and rats. He would need an expert, and, sadly, there weren’t many experts living underground. Just him, and weird bone spike people, apparently. Yeah, Kugrash needed to figure out what the deal with them was, too. So he walked through the tunnels, getting lost again, once or twice, but finally emerging. Kugrash came out of the tunnels to sunlight. He was pretty sure it had been night, when he’d left them. Still, he was away from those strange people, and hopefully he’d be able to figure out what was happening to his tunnel and his rats- and that was mattered.
“Oh, hello,” a voice said, above Kugrash.
“Are you talking to me?” Kugrash asked.
“Who else would I be talking to?” The woman asked. She had curly grey hair, and wild eyes. “I am talking to you.”
“I’m a rat,” Kugrash said. “Or- you should be seeing a rat, not a rat man.”
“I see the rat, and the man, and the rat,” the woman said. “And I see that something is not right with you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Kugrash said. He moved to move past her-
“Would you like a reading?” The woman asked. Before Kugrash could answer, she answered for him. “You would like a reading. Come inside my shop, before someone screams about the strange rat man.”
“But they should just see a rat,” Kugrash said. “Unless they’re part of the Unsleeping City, and if they are, then a rat man wouldn’t scare them.”
“There is no such a veil here,” the woman said. “Everyone sees it all. It is a lot to see.”
“Right,” Kugrash said, slowly.
“So,” the woman said. “Come inside, and let Iga give you a reading.”
Kugrash looked at Iga. He didn’t feel like getting a tarot reading. But he also really didn’t feel like getting in another fight, today.
“Sure,” Kugrash said, finally. “If you really want me to.”
“I won’t even make you pay,” Iga said. “Very rare, from me. Normally only corpses don’t pay.”
Kugrash ignored that statement, and walked inside. Iga sat down at a table with a deck of cards.
“How does this work, exactly?” Kugrash asked.
Iga barely shuffled. She flipped one, lazily, and slammed it on the table. She didn’t look at it, and Kugrash couldn’t even see on top of the table.
“You are from another world,” Iga declared, loudly. “Or, rather, the same world, but a different version of it.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be telling me about my love life, or something?” Kugrash asked.
“I am telling you about your present,” Iga said, in a tone that brokered no argument. “Do you want to hear, or no?”
“Go ahead,” Kugrash said.
She flipped another card. Once again, she did it with little fanfare.
“You will get home,” Iga said. “But you will need help to do it. Help I cannot provide.”
“Right,” Kugrash said. He paused. “Wait, do you know what mutants are?”
“They are everywhere,” Iga said. “Like I said. No veil, here. But there’s a veil where you are. Different powers. Less radiation.”
Kugrash didn’t want to admit that she made sense, but he had been burned by a w- he had learned that lesson, before.
“How do I fix this, then?” Kugrash asked. “How do I… get home?”
Iga pulled a third card. This time, she stared at it, unblinking, for nearly an entire minute.
“Are you okay?” Kugrash asked. “Are you having a stroke, or something?”
“Let me read the card,” Iga said. “Hush.”
“Fine,” Kugrash muttered, only to get shushed again.
Iga stared at the card again. For ten seconds, and then twenty, and then-
“Leave,” Iga said.
“What?” Kugrash asked. “After all that-“
“That is what the card said,” Iga said flatly. “Leave.”
Kugrash sighed. “You could just tell to me leave, you know, you don’t have to make the card do it-“
“The card said leave!” Iga exclaimed. “If you do not want to go home, then fine, stay in my shop forever for all I care-“
Kugrash left the shop. And as soon as he did- he saw a familiar face.