Mandibite leaned low toward the glass, his grotesque rat-face filling the view. His whiskers twitched as his wide grin stretched impossibly, lips peeling back to bare crooked fangs. Slowly, deliberately, his tongue dragged across the window, leaving a streak of foul, bubbling saliva on the glass.
The survivors recoiled. Some whimpered. One of the purebloods gagged.
Mandibite chuckled — a wet, grating sound that carried into the chamber like nails dragged across tile. His eyes locked onto Celeste’s, unblinking, the smile never faltering.
Carys clutched her arms, nose twitching nervously. “Celeste, this is a terrible idea. He’s tricked hundreds like this. You’ll just—” she faltered, voice breaking, “—you’ll just end up another pod.”
“I agree,” Pitch said bluntly, shotgun gripped tight. His usual grin was gone, though his tone still carried that rough humor. “This is suicide, kitten.”
Celeste’s eyes darted to the feed still flickering on the cracked monitor. Mezzo and the others, bound in gum, bodies slack, eyes rolling shut as the Cat-o-Wrap sang its lullaby. Her stomach lurched. If she did nothing, they’d die.
Before she could speak, the blue-haired dragon mythic from earlier cleared his throat.
“Um—hey. Sorry, uh—” He raised a claw, fidgeting as his glasses slid down his snout. “I, uh… didn’t even tell you my name before. It’s Cosmo. Yeah. Uh—but, more important—”
He dug quickly through a satchel at her side, nearly dropping the straps in his hurry, then pulled out three faintly glowing glass orbs. His claws trembled, but his eyes lit up with a spark of pride.
“Would these help? They’re… mana bombs. I, um, kinda made them? I mean, they’re crude prototypes, but they should destabilize mana fields if you throw them just right. I was saving them for, you know, worst-case scenarios.”
He pushed them forward, blinking rapidly, like he wasn’t sure if anyone would actually take him seriously.
Pitch blinked, then let out a low whistle. “You’re a bloody genius, scales.” He snatched one from his claw, weighed it in his paw, then turned to Celeste.
“Alright, listen.” He crouched to meet her eyes, voice serious but not without a crooked smile. “I’m gonna open the door, lob this bastard out, and you run. Your pal on the intercom—” he jerked his head toward the speaker where Bracer’s voice had cut through earlier—“I hope he knows his maps, ‘cause he’s your only guide. I’ll get the survivors out another way.”
He shoved the remaining bombs into her hands, heavy and warm with pulsing mana. “Use sparingly. Slow him down if you can. Loud noises make him twitch, but he’s fast as hell. And for God’s sake, don’t die on me, kitten.”
Celeste swallowed hard, managing a wobbly, nervous smile. “I—I’ll try. Um, but I’m very clumsy, so—so no promises, right?”
She turned toward the glass where Mandibite’s hulking silhouette writhed, antennae twitching eagerly. Her voice cracked, but she forced it steady:
“I accept your game. But if I reach my friends—you let them go.”
The Centerpied tilted his grotesque rat-like head. For a fleeting moment, those glinting eyes softened—something almost mournful. Then the grin returned, wide and jagged.
“No promises, little cat. But I do expect you to play fair.”
Celeste nodded, blades trembling in her grip.
“One…” Pitch braced by the door.
“Two…” Cosmo’s claws flexed, runes glowing on her goggles.
“Three!”
The seal wrenched open—
Mandibite lunged.
But Pitch was faster. The mana bomb arced through the air and burst against the sewer wall in a shattering blaze of green fire. The Centepied shrieked, his body convulsing, smoke hissing from his cracked chitin.
“GO!” Pitch roared.
Celeste bolted into the tunnels, the bombs rattling in her arms. Her legs carried her faster than she thought possible, breath sharp in her throat.
Behind her, Mandibite’s voice tore through the dark, ragged and furious:
“YOU LIAR!”
And the chase began.
Celeste’s paws slapped against the candy-slick stone, her breath ragged, heart hammering so loud she thought it would burst through her chest. The tunnels stretched endlessly—pipes hissing, water dripping, the smell of syrup and rot choking her lungs.
Behind her, Mandibite thundered. His grotesque centipede body scraped against the walls, antennae twitching, claws gouging into stone with every lunge. Each time his shadow swept over her tail, her fur bristled.
Bracer’s voice cut through the static in her ear. Calm. Measured. Unshakable.
“Left. Now. Don’t think, just move.”
Celeste skidded, nearly toppling, scrambling through a narrow side corridor. Her shoulder slammed into the wall, pain flaring—but it was better than teeth in her spine.
“Oh stars, oh stars, I’m not—I’m not fast enough, I’m gonna trip and he’s gonna eat me like—like a soggy biscuit—!”
“Eyes forward, lass,” Bracer snapped. “Corner ahead. Tight. Duck low, or you’ll lose your ears.”
She ducked on instinct—Mandibite’s claw whistled through the air where her head had been, sparking off the pipework.
“HAH!” The Centerpied’s warped voice screeched from behind. “Run, little kitty! You’re quick, but I’ve got so many legs. You can’t win a race you can’t finish!”
Celeste whimpered, clutching one of the mana bombs to her chest. “This is a horrible idea—worse than that time I tried to bake treacle tarts and set the oven on fire—!”
“Focus,” Bracer growled. “You’re coming up on a junction. Take the far right tunnel—ignore the others.”
She darted right, panting, her glow flickering faintly along the sludge-wet walls.
Mandibite slammed into the corner behind her, shrieking in delight. “Ohhh, clever girl! But every maze has a rat at the end!”
Celeste risked a glance back—and instantly regretted it. His jagged rat-face leered in the dark, syrup dripping from his crooked fangs. He was faster than she thought. Too fast. His antenna whipped forward, snagging the back of her hood.
“EEEKKK—no no no nonono!” Celeste shrieked, thrashing, yanking herself free. The fabric tore—and she stumbled, nearly falling flat.
Bracer barked in her ear. “Mana bomb! Now, lass!”
With a squeak of pure terror, she hurled one over her shoulder. The orb shattered, a pulse of green energy exploding down the corridor. Mandibite reared back, his scream rattling her bones, smoke hissing off his carapace.
Celeste kept running, legs like jelly. “Oh thank goodness, oh thank goodness—”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Bracer cut in. “Two more turns. Then a drop. You’ll need to jump.”
“Jump?! Oh, I hate jumping! Every time I jump, I fall, and when I fall, I bruise, and when I bruise—”
“Celeste. Trust me.”
She gulped. Nodded even though he couldn’t see.
Mandibite’s laugh slithered down the tunnels. “Ohhh, little mouse-cat, little glowing morsel—you can throw your toys, but when they run out, what’s left? You. Cornered. Delicious.”
Celeste’s eyes watered from panic. She saw the drop ahead—an old maintenance shaft gaping open into darkness. Bracer’s voice was steel.
“Now, lass. JUMP.”
Celeste screamed and leapt—clumsy, flailing, every bit of her hating it. For a moment she thought she’d missed, but her paws smacked the opposite ledge, claws scraping, body dangling. She scrambled up, sobbing out of sheer relief.
Mandibite didn’t even slow. He launched after her, his body coiling like a spring, snapping his jaws inches from her tail as she yanked herself forward and collapsed onto the floor.
The tunnel shook with his landing.
Celeste staggered up, clutching her blades, her voice a broken squeak. “I’m so dead. I’m so dead.”
Mandibite laughed again, so close now she could feel his breath on her back.
“Yes, kitten. You are.”
Her lungs burned, legs trembling — but then something in Celeste snapped.
The fear was still there, a thunder in her chest, but her body stopped listening to her panic. Her pupils narrowed into thin, glowing slits. Her ears twitched, tracking the slightest echo. She no longer thought about the next step. She knew it.
She dropped to all fours without hesitation, claws sparking against the stone as she tore through the tunnels like lightning. The stench of syrup, rot, and acid filled her nose — and she could pick it apart, smell Mandibite’s sour musk behind her, the cold trail of stagnant water ahead, even the faint iron tang of rusted pipes to her left.
Bracer’s voice crackled in her ear, sharp but lower now. “There it is… aye. That’s what I wanted to see. Instinct. Stop thinking like a scholar, lass. Start fighting like a cat.”
Her only response was a guttural growl as she launched herself across a broken gap, claws digging into the far wall as she scrambled up it like a wild thing. Mandibite lunged after her — but she skittered vertically, claws tearing chunks of sugar-stone free until she hauled herself over the ledge.
The Centerpied’s head smashed into the wall below, chitin cracking. He screeched, furious. “You… little vermin! You won’t scurry from me!”
She landed, hissed low in her throat, and sprinted again.
The tunnel twisted downward into a slope. She didn’t slow — she dug her claws into the wall, dragging sparks to steady herself as she half-slid, half-ran. Mandibite thundered behind her, snapping his jaws, antennae whipping inches from her tail.
The slope ended in a drop.
She didn’t think. She leapt, claws out. Slammed into the far side. Slid. Scrabbled. Hauled herself up with a feral snarl. Mandibite followed — and for the first time, he hesitated. His rat-face sneered as blood dripped from the fresh slashes where she’d clawed him earlier.
Celeste whipped around, pinned, her back to a wall. The Centerpied lunged, snapping.
She slashed.
Her claws raked across his face, leaving blazing gouges down his muzzle. He howled, rearing back, ichor sizzling as it splattered the floor.
Bracer’s voice cut through, firm and approving. “That’s it, lass! That’s the feral I was after! Not prey. Predator. You corner a cat, and gods help what comes next.”
Celeste didn’t speak. She just snarled, lips peeled back, eyes burning.
Mandibite writhed, antennae twitching erratically. “You filthy—filthy beast!” His voice cracked, no longer mocking but edged with anger. “You think claws will save you? I’ll rip them off one by one!”
She didn’t wait. She tore past him, darting between his legs, bounding forward on all fours. She leapt cracks, climbed walls, swung from jagged pipes with a grace she didn’t know she had. Every move faster. Every turn sharper.
And Mandibite — for the first time — couldn’t quite keep up.
His screeches grew louder, more erratic, his massive body thrashing against the walls as he barreled after her. But his words no longer dripped amusement. They spat frustration.
“No more games, kitty!” he roared. “I’ll peel your skin and wear it!”
Celeste only growled back — low, dangerous, and feral — before vanishing around the next bend, her claws sparking against the stone.
